Dancing with Dragons

by Lorenda Christensen

  Just then, the wide doors opened, and a mottled-yellow dragon lumbered in to stand beside the two humans. From the movement of their bodies, it appeared that the two thugs exchanged pleasantries with the new member of their group before settling in to wait for the hospital employee.

  I started frantically looking around for convenient places to hide. Dragons were never sent on assignments where combat wasn’t expected. Peacetime talks, at least outside of reparations discussions, were rare.

  Daniel gave me a look. I told you so.

  The group continued to stand at the entrance, bored, as the employee scrambled to find some help. I fought the urge to duck as the dragon took in his surroundings with a slow swivel of his long neck. He was much smaller than the green dragon that had attacked Myrna and me at the hotel, but he looked no less dangerous for his size. Even without a badge, it was clear from his color that he was one of Adelaida’s. The European dragon lord was known for her canary yellow scales, and made certain whatever outfit she’d chosen for the occasion displayed their gleaming perfection. With his odd mixture of yellow and brown, there was no doubt he was a direct descendant.

  Before I’d spent much time with dragons, I’d thought Lady Adelaida was the most interesting of all the lords, because we shared an interest in fashion. I’d half hoped to meet her during Hian-puo’s trial, but she’d been too busy with arranging the accommodations for the other lords and their traveling companions for me to feel comfortable approaching her.

  Now, with her dragons hunting me on Lord Relobu’s behalf, I found I had no regrets on the matter.

  “Carol?”

  Daniel raised an eyebrow in question. “Are you coming with me, or taking your chances with them?”

  I weighed my options. Which is to say, I studied every possible solution to my problem, took one more look at the dragon, and finally admitted that I had no options.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Chapter Six

  Daniel took my hand and pulled me a few feet down the hall before pushing open the door to the stairs. My knee wasn’t fond of all this walking, but at least it was holding my weight. Mostly, I was amazed at my body’s general weakness. After a week in a hospital bed I’d already lost a good portion of the muscle I’d put on during the mandatory combat training required by Lord Relobu in order to join the team in China.

  At the time, the exercise had been a lot of fun. I’d learned some moves that weren’t taught in my weekly kickboxing class, and I’d been pleasantly surprised to see how good my newly toned arms had looked in a halter dress. But now that I think about it, the training had been a complete waste of time. I knew five or six ways to severely injure a dragon, but not one of those methods had kept me from being thrown against the first handy wall my attacker had found.

  And now I’d lost the toned arms. Go figure.

  I stumbled as I was trying to reteach my legs how to work, and my paper bag of medicines crumpled against the concrete wall.

  “Here, let me hold them.” Daniel took the sack from my hands and set it on the floor before he tossed me his jacket. “Put this on. Your hospital gown is so thin it’s transparent.”

  I scowled at him, but took the jacket and stuck my arms through the sleeves. He’d already picked up the medicine and was halfway down the stairwell before he turned to check on my progress.

  “Are you coming, or not?”

  I muttered something uncomplimentary under my breath as I followed him down to the ground floor and out the door to the employee parking lot.

  It must have been around noon, because I had to squint at the blinding sun reflecting off rows of shiny expensive cars. Where did people find the money to buy new these days? With the price of gasoline, and electricity, and...well, everything after the war, I felt lucky to have a car at all. It looked like medicine was still a lucrative profession.

  Which shouldn’t surprise me, based on my own personal experience. I hadn’t even needed to go outside to have a dragon whack my head against the wall. I wouldn’t be surprised if serious injuries had probably multiplied ten times over since dragons had entered the world. And I’d bet the Péterfy Sándor was even more successful than most, if the majority of dragon-related injuries were sent here.

  As I did my best to keep up with Daniel’s long-legged stride, I mused about the probability of my heart exploding from the exertions of simply walking in a parking lot. Extended comas apparently aren’t great for staying in shape, and I was walking proof. I’d broken out in a clammy sweat, and my stomach was protesting at all the movement.

  Daniel fished in his pocket for a set of keys, and pointed.

  “This is me.” He stopped in front of a sleek black motorcycle, kitted out with chrome bars, chrome exhaust, and a gleaming black helmet hanging from one side of the handlebars.

  I stood and stared, trying to determine whether I could be lucky enough have hit my head so hard that I’d just hallucinated the entire thing—hospital, dragons, motorcycles and all. This could not be happening. I was still trying to formulate a question that didn’t start with “what the hell” when he made an impatient sound in his throat. He swung a leg over to straddle the machine before sliding a pair of sunglasses onto his head and reaching out a hand to help me on.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked when I made no move to join him.

  “Are you crazy? I’m not riding on that.”

  I could see my bruised and battered face reflected in the lenses of his sunglasses as he considered me. Daniel pushed the bag of drugs he’d been carrying against my chest, turned the key in the ignition, and started the bike with a kick. “Suit yourself. Tell Lady Adelaida—and Lord Relobu—I said hello.” He tipped his head toward the door we’d just exited. The dragon lord’s men had slipped outside and were scanning the parking lot. The dragon must have been forced to take another route as the door was standard human size.

  Daniel knew what he was doing when he took the garage exit.

  One of the men caught sight of me and tapped the other on the arm. They yelled, and started to run in our direction.

  “Okay, okay. I’m coming.” I crawled onto the bike awkwardly, trying to figure out how to keep the edge of my hospital gown firmly underneath my rear instead of free to fly up over my head once we were moving. As soon as I was settled, Daniel revved the motor. I grabbed him firmly around the waist, my white paper sack of medication dangling over his stomach.

  The world went dark for a moment and I felt Daniel’s abs ripple as he twisted to awkwardly shove my head into his bike helmet. I winced as the pressure pulled on the stitches in my scalp, but I didn’t plan on complaining. If we wrecked, my already broken skull needed all the help it could get.

  With the helmet properly in place and just a little too big, I could see again, provided I didn’t make any sudden movements. I looked behind us to check on the progress of Adelaida’s men. They were only a few feet away, and one of them reached out to grab me when the motorcycle jumped forward in an awesome burst of speed. I involuntarily tightened my already snug hold on Daniel.

  “I can’t drive if I can’t breathe,” he yelled.

  I reluctantly loosened my grip on his midsection as we left the parking lot and merged with the busy lunch-hour traffic. Adelaida’s men watched as we drove away, cell phones glued to their furious faces as they reported our escape.

  Without taking his eyes from the road, Daniel reached around me with his left arm and patted the leather saddle bags strapped to the back of the bike. “You can put your meds in here.”

  “I’m fine.” There was no way I was unlinking my hands and turning around while we were moving.

  I gasped when I felt a yank and then a tear as Daniel took the bag from me and stuffed it angrily into the leather satchel. “These damn bottles are playing Chopsticks on my nuts. Put them in the saddle bag. You are the most contrary person I have ever met in my life.”

  Thoroughly disgusted with Daniel and my current situation in general, I gave
in to my childish side and pinched the skin over his ribs. “You aren’t exactly a ray of sunshine yourself, buddy.”

  * * *

  About thirty minutes of mutual huffy silence later, we pulled into the driveway of an old, vine-covered stone building in a quiet neighborhood north of Budapest. Daniel angled his bike into a small parking space and cut the engine.

  Taking the helmet off was twice as painful as putting it on, since my last dose of pain medication had been four hours ago. Daniel tried to help me, but gave up, cursing when I yelped at his every movement.

  Once off, I handed him the helmet and struggled to dismount from the bike. I groaned as my still-sore muscles protested the experience, and I was forced to use Daniel’s shoulder as support while I regained my equilibrium.

  Without a word, he retrieved my meds from the travel bag, and looped an arm around my waist.

  I’d like to say that I angrily refused his offer of assistance, but I was too exhausted from the pain in my head to care. All I wanted was a flat surface to lie on until the worst of the nausea had passed. I almost cried when I spotted the rickety elevator tucked into the corner of the old lobby. I didn’t think I could handle another flight of stairs.

  We rode up to the third floor, and then Daniel half carried me down the hall before stopping before a white wooden door. Its human size made me sigh in relief. While the absence of a dragon door wouldn’t stop a really determined pursuer, I was sick of staying in places that made it easy for dragons to navigate. At least this floor plan offered me an extra minute or so of protection from any potential dragon visitors.

  Daniel finished with the lock and swung open the door, revealing a small studio apartment decorated in decidedly bland colors. He released me and headed for the kitchen.

  “I’m getting something to drink. Make yourself at home.”

  I stayed where I was and took in the living space. A metal-framed futon was pushed against the far wall, opposite a small stand holding a television and telephone.

  The telephone wasn’t much of a surprise, but the TV was. Since the end of the war, most people didn’t bother with television, because they needed a new circuit board about once every six months due to EMP corrosion. With all the massive EMP interference from the tech-jamming weapons we still had floating around in the atmosphere, the upkeep on electronics was expensive—the smaller the circuits, the more often they had to be replaced.

  The tech-jammers been placed up there by specialized aircraft during the war, but now we didn’t have anyone brave enough to get in a plane to take the weapons down, because the planes equipped with the proper equipment were all military. The dragons had pledged to destroy anything resembling an attack vehicle, and so far no one had figured out how to modify a commercial plane without changing its appearance, so we were stuck with the things floating around up there and wreaking havoc on our lives.

  To each his own, I guess. Some people said my closet of shoes was an unneeded luxury.

  The kitchen consisted of a single countertop and sink snuggled between a squat yellow fridge and an ancient gas oven. Daniel must have spent all of his money on the electronics, because the only other furniture in the room was a large bed near the bathroom door. The bed was unmade, with a twist of white sheet in a ratty navy comforter sprawled across its surface. But it was a bed. I didn’t wait for permission. I felt sick, and dizzy, and more than half-dead, so I simply shrugged out of his jacket, dropped it on the floor, and collapsed into the welcoming softness.

  Except it wasn’t soft. Not at all. I hit the mattress with a crunch and a surprised squeal. When I tried to roll off of whatever it was I’d landed on, something sharp stabbed me in the side and I yelped. Daniel looked up from the sink in horror, and dropped the glass of water before rushing across the room.

  “No! No, what are you doing?” Completely ignoring the fact that I was being stabbed to death by his bed, Daniel hefted me up an inch or so to dig his hands under my back. “Those are my papers. My notes!” He pulled a rumpled sheet from beneath my shoulder blade and tried to smooth out the wrinkled mess before reaching under me again for another.

  With no help from Daniel, I finally managed to sit up. I grabbed one of the papers from Daniel’s grip, wondering what had turned him into a raving—and completely rude—lunatic. My name, along with Richard’s and Myrna’s, was scribbled along the top half, with illegible notes—some circled, some underlined—filling the rest of the white space. Question marks surrounded a section written in dragonscript about troop movement near China’s Xinjiang province.

  “What is this?” I’d turned the page upside down and was trying to determine whether the marks made more sense in a different order when Daniel snatched it from my hands.

  “None of your business. Get up.”

  I scowled. “Of course. My apologies. It’s not like I have a freaking head injury or anything. We can’t have your notes wrinkled.”

  My sarcasm sailed right over his head because he kept on digging through the sheets and blanket, snatching anything he found with the frazzled panic of a guy who’d dropped an entire plate of newly grilled steaks in the middle of a pack of hungry puppies. I opened my mouth for another retort, but Daniel held up a hand.

  “Wait. Just give me a second.”

  He finished gathering the remaining papers, scanning each and shuffling them into some sort of cryptic order before placing them on top of the TV. I sat back down on the bed and heard a muffled snap. When I located the source of the sound, I held it up.

  “I broke your pencil.”

  He frowned but took the pieces and set them on the kitchen counter. “Are you always like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “A harbinger of death, destruction and dragons everywhere you go?”

  I thought back to the last few weeks of my trip. “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if I were.”

  He snorted and, returning with the glass of water, handed me two tablets. “These are your pain meds. You have a couple of antibiotics you’ll need to take before bedtime.”

  When I eyed him suspiciously, he rolled his eyes and tossed the pill bottle in my direction. “I’m not trying to kill you or anything.”

  “A girl can’t be too careful.” I peered into the bottle and compared the pills with the two I held in my hand. They looked exactly the same.

  “Thanks.” I chased the tablets with a couple of sips from the glass.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So, what do I owe you for all this?” I made gesture meant to encompass everything—the ride, the place to sleep, and ready assistance with my pain medication.

  “I’m not that much of a monster. We’ll talk about it later. I need to go out for a while and pick up some things. Will you be okay here?”

  “Toothbrush.” At his confused expression, I expanded. “I need a toothbrush. It’s been over a week since I’ve brushed my teeth, and it’s disgusting.”

  His nose wrinkled at the thought, but he nodded. “I’ll be back soon.” Daniel started for the door.

  “Oh. I’d appreciate some clothes, if you wouldn’t mind.” I hated the idea of being in debt to him any further, but it wasn’t like I could wear the hospital gown in public and expect no one to take notice.

  “Will do.”

  And with that he was out the door, and I was left to myself for the first time in what felt like ages. I got up and walked the glass of water back to the sink, careful to keep a hand on the counter to prevent myself from falling.

  The door opened one more time, and Daniel’s head appeared. “Don’t try to go anywhere. Those pills will have you stumbling into oncoming traffic, and I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to rescue you a second time.”

  He walked in, scooped his leather jacket from the floor, and walked out.

  I made a face at the closed door. This man was the most irritating person in the world. But for now, he was also the only thing between me and a hoard of dragons.

  Chapter Seven
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  “Hey.”

  His voice came from right behind me and I didn’t think, I just reacted, and was surprised when my hand met flesh.

  “Owww! What was that for?”

  I looked up from the chair I’d been watching television from to find Daniel looming over me, wearing a dark scowl and the perfect imprint of my fingers across his stubble-covered cheek.

  I hadn’t even heard him come in.

  “I was watching television. These pain pills are doing a number on me, for a minute I thought you were a...” I trailed off, my foggy brain a little too slow to explain my slap-first-ask-questions-later greeting.

  He continued to glare at me from beside the chair while eying me suspiciously—gauging my honesty.

  “I’m sorry. Really. My brain and pain medications don’t usually dance well together.” I sat up, rubbing my eyes in an attempt to bring the world—the real world—back into focus.

  Daniel seemed to take my explanation at face value, because he turned away and started tossing plastic bags filled with stuff onto the bed on the other side of the room.

  I started to ask whether it was really necessary to use the bed as a table, but stopped myself. Somewhere in these bags I hoped there was a toothbrush, and making him angry—again—probably wasn’t the best way to get my hands on it.

  I wasn’t disappointed. When he walked over and slapped the toothbrush into my palm, I immediately headed for the bathroom. I was glad to see my legs were steadier after my hours in the chair, and I was feeling quite cheery at the idea of a clean set of teeth and maybe even a pair of clean underwear to put on after a warm shower. Until I opened the door.

  “Oh my God!” I tried to back out of the room, but hit the half-open door instead.

  “What? Carol, are you okay?” I heard the thump of Daniel’s footsteps. The door opened and Daniel grabbed my arm, pulling me backwards until his body stood between me and the bathroom. He was silent for a moment while he scanned the small space, but then he turned to me in confusion. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong?”