by Viola Grace
She walked and noted the long coil of chain under the bed. “Will it reach?”
“It should, but I’ve never actually tested it.” That made her feel better for some reason. Jealousy? Nah.
She couldn’t close the door with the chain there, but it did reach into the shower. First, she used the rest of the facilities, and in the time-honored tradition, he had left the seat up. Men. Lots of fun,
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but hard to housebreak.
The shower felt fantastic, the hot water pounding on her stiff muscles. She stretched as best she could in the shower stall, soaping everything and wincing at the soreness between her thighs. It had been a while since her muscles had had a workout like that. She had to leave the shower door open a crack as well, damn that chain.
So, Livonath had offered his granddaughter to Decklyn. She wondered absently what he must have paid for the privilege of getting her pregnant. Dragon compatible females didn’t come cheap. Especially ones who had the bloodlines to start with.
She used his shampoo, noting that he had conditioner as well, a rarity in a guy. Her hair hung to well below her shoulders, and she normally kept it bound in a braid. The damned stuff was so thin that the slightest wind would wrap it around and throw it into the air. She hoped that he had a brush.
As she rinsed off her hair, she moved to the edge of the shower, blinking water out of her eyes and groping for a towel. A strong warm hand brought it to her, and she laughed in surprise at the greedy look that Decklyn was giving her wet, slick form.
She wrapped the towel around her, tucking it in
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over her breasts and reached for another to dry her hair with. “Hands off mister. Unless you’re planning on doing my hair.”
She clanked past him with her head held high. The rustle of the chain on the floor setting a weird beat as she moved.
Anryn smiled at the freshly made bed, and the tray of crackers and cheese that he prepared. Or that she thought he prepared. A second tray of fruits floated in on ghostly hands and she realized that he had a spirit servant.
“So, did you make the bed? Or did your flying buddy here do it?” She took a seat in one of the comfy chairs in the corner near the window, and began to dry her hair with brisk movements.
“Jeeves is a great butler, but he got the food. I made the bed.” And he was lounging on it with an invitation in his eyes. She ignored him. His golden skin and mouthwatering erection was difficult to ignore, but she wanted some answers.
“What did you give to Livonath for his descendant?”
“Mining rights to a small mine in Arizona.” His knee was waving as he watched her struggle with her hair. “The brush is in that drawer.” Decklyn jerked his head over to the dressing table near the window.
“Thanks. Did you approach him? Or did he approach you?” After opening two other drawers,
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she found the brush.
“I approached him. I had known your father for some time, and figured that any daughter of his would be exceptional. Livonath was not known to treat his women folk well, so I thought it best that I step in as soon as possible.”
“Here is the other question, why did you wait thirty years to come get me? And why the elaborate charade?” She struggled with the brush, it was a little too large for her hand.
“This modern world is a little more complicated. I wanted to make sure that I was ready to support a family in the appropriate, modern manner.”
She was wrestling the brush through the tangled tresses and at his sentence, she froze. Laughter bubbled out of her in waves. She put the brush down, and hooted with mirth. That was too funny.
In an era where a growing percentage of children did not even know their fathers, he was worried about spending time and money on children who did not even exist yet. Dragons were obsessive parents for the most part, Livonath being the exception. He had spread his seed in as many women as he could, leaving his bastards to starve or survive on their own. Like her great-grandmother, Eisha.
As the tears of laughter faded, she looked over
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at the serious and protective dragon that was laying claim to all of her offspring. He would probably make a great father, but a tyrant of a husband.
Whoa. Where the hell did that come from? She peered over at him through squinted eyes. He was wearing that same innocent look as he had when he had pumped enough magic through her to light up a small city. He was using his damned talents on her again. Either that, or they had started bonding. She shuddered slightly, that would be bad.
“Stop that.” Anryn was scowling now. Her earlier laughter forgotten. “Stop using glamour on me. It’s tacky.”
“Glamour? What glamour?” The innocence was in full bloom now. He could have posed for the Renaissance painting of an angel.
She scowled harder. “The one that is telling me what a wonderful father you would make.”
“But it’s true. And you missed part of it.”
“I don’t doubt it, and what part exactly?” Now it was her turn to be all innocence. She glanced into the dressing table mirror and winced. She looked like a wind-blown whore. Her eyes were wide, lips bruised and her hair was still half-tangled. The towel only covered the lower half of her breasts, the upper cleavage was a little inviting.
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“The part about me being a good husband. I will be, you know.” He stood and began to approach her. Lifting her from her chair, he held her and sat back down with her in his lap. “Give me the brush.”
Mutely, she did so. He continued his explanation. “I have been working these thirty years to establish myself in the human community as a venture capitalist. It has been my every effort to create a human persona with a steady income and a sterling reputation in the business community.”
“First, I had to get birth records, then set up an imaginary family that would be able to inherit my fortune as I aged. The transfer from my original persona to Decklyn Ringler occurred five years ago. Then all I had to do was wait for you.”
She was astonished. There was more to being a magical creature leaving Realm than she had thought. “Me? Why did you wait?”
“You seemed to be having so much fun with your friends and family that I didn’t want to intrude.” His hands kept brushing in long slow strokes, he had made short work of the tangles and was now only dragging the brush through to sooth her. Like an upset cat.
“You do know that whatever we do end up as, I am not leaving my family, or friends.”
At this he scowled, “Dragons are solitary by
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nature.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, “Tough. I’m not.” Something moved out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head just in time to catch a glimpse of something in the mirror.
“Uh, Decklyn? Are you sure that you are up to taking on Cathal?”
“Who?” He was a little distracted by the silk of her hair. Even with his shampoo, it smelled distinctly like her.
“The Az demon.”
“Yes, why?”
“Because, it’s watching us from the mirror right now!” She darted out of his grasp and jumped for the door, only to be brought up short by the shackle on her leg. She had made it into the hall outside the master suite and fallen flat on her face. Twenty feet was her maximum distance it seemed.
“Calm down Anryn. It can’t get through the wards.” He had moved to put himself between her and the mirror.
“It did at the Lakin Estate. Blasted right through them!” She began to fire magic at the shackle in her panic, waves of prickling pain spread through her as she found herself unable to stop. The hysteric fear of being chained like bait filled her and she screamed as the pain flowed over her, taking her into darkness.
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Chapter Five
“alnut. Walnut, wake up.” Her mother’s v
oice was calling her. It’s gentle cadence pouring over her in a soothing wave. W
She was in her own bed, in her own home. “I don’t want to go to school!” She rolled over and buried her face in the pillows. Laughter erupted in the room around her. Two men and her mother.
“Walnut, you don’t have to go to school, but you do have to get up. Decklyn is worried about you.”
“Decklyn who?” She pouted and pulled herself upright, noting the white nightgown that her father must have insisted on. She looked into the dragon’s stricken face and sighed. “Come here Deck.”
He sat next to her, apologies in his eyes, and she quickly drew his head down to kiss him. “It’s okay. I am assuming that the demon didn’t get me?”
“No, but you were right. Cathal did break
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through the wards. It will take him a while to rebuild his energy, so your parents thought that you would be more comfortable in your own home.”
She looked closely at him, he was wearing a buttoned shirt and trousers again, and she thought she could smell… “Did he hurt you?” It was blood. Decklyn’s blood. Tiny pin pricks had seeped through the shirt.
“Nothing that I haven’t had done to me before. I’m far more worried about you. You almost drained yourself while fighting the shackle.” He caressed her hair, sifting the black silk through his fingers.
“I panicked.” She blushed.
He smiled, “I noticed.”
“I wasn’t expecting the attack, and then I couldn’t defend myself, or get away. I freaked.”
“It’s alright, under the circumstances I should never have confined you. Even if it is dragon tradition. At least until this matter was finished.”
They locked eyes and reached an understanding. She read a question in his eyes. “What? What do you want to know?”
He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Why do your parents call you Walnut?”
“Because she fell out of trees and never broke.” Dominick’s voice was right beside them and their heads turned as one to look at him. “If you two are
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finished, we need to make a plan for the next attack by the Az.”
“I always thought it was because my head was shaped funny, huh. Who knew?” Anryn shrugged and looked back to Decklyn. “Shall we?”
“Indeed.” He scooped her up and took her out of the bedroom and through her hallways to the living room.
“Why did you decide on my house?” He set himself down on the couch with her in his lap, the white nightgown flowing virginally around her.
She couldn’t be sure if he was blushing or not, but he looked embarrassed. “Yours is the best warded house in the state. Nothing is getting in here.”
Oh, right. She had put all of her weekends alone into wards on her property. “Ah, well. Everybody needs a hobby.”
“Walnut, how many layers do you have on this house?” Her mother settled in next to them, her scent like flowers in the rain. Anryn breathed deeply and was instantly calm. It was amazing what the familiar scent of your mother could do for you.
“Around forty-seven. Maybe a few more. Why?” She looked absently around her home. All was in order. The flowers in the window were blooming, the plants were lush. Her backyard was wild and untamed, the tree house visible from
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where they sat.
“Do you see what I mean?” Dominick looked from his daughter to her lover. A lifetime of living with a driven female in his eyes.
Decklyn started to move underneath her, and she felt his laughter, “Yes, I am beginning to see.”
“Okay, enough. Lets talk strategy.” She crossed her arms across her chest and glared at both of the men, quite sure that she knew what they were talking about. So she was a tad obsessive, so what?
“Fine. Let me get the tea.” Mylawith rose gracefully and ran around the kitchen for a few moments. She returned with a full tea service, cups and saucers on a tray.
Mylawith loved tea, and as she served them, it showed in her graceful and economical movements. The heady scent of the wild berry blend filled the room, and Anryn smiled at the memories of childhood that it evoked. As the tart sweetness rolled across her tongue, she was suddenly five again and talking about her first day of school.
When everyone had a cup of tea in their hands, she sat back. “Alright. I think that after this one attempt at a frontal assault, Cathal is going to try a new strategy.”
“Or an old one.” Anryn sipped delicately at the tea, then took the rest of the cup in one heated gulp. She had never achieved her mother’s grace
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and style. She had dropped more cups than she could count.
“What do you mean?” Decklyn was just as serious as her parents. Everyone was now looking at her.
“When he attacked Albina’s he made a deal with a human. I think he might try it again.” She gave her mother the empty tea cup, and she suffered Mylawith’s reproachful glance. A lady was supposed to sip her tea. That is what the books had said.
When Mylawith married Dominick, she studied human etiquette and society so that she would fit in. The glamour that she used in public made her appear to be Mediterranean; she was expected to behave like a lady.
She had tried to raise her daughter the same way, but her little Walnut would never do anything with delicacy and grace. It was always full steam ahead.
“Deck, do you have any humans that he may use?”
“Do I have any humans? No.” He did look puzzled.
Anryn decided to let him in on something. “Your house is warded right?”
“Yes.”
“Then how did he find me? No one knew where I was except you and Dad.” A dawning
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sense of horror was crossing Decklyn’s face.
“Your receptionist, right? You told her that you would be at home for a few days. And she connected my appearance with your disappearance.” She patted his shoulder to comfort him. “I thought I smelled demon on her, but I thought I was imagining things.”
“Ariane couldn’t be the one. She is totally professional.” He was sputtering now. Anryn got stiffly to her feet and faced him.
“If it wasn’t her, then come up with someone else who knows where you were. My father was behind his own set of wards and couldn’t have been the one. And my mother is a dryad, she is immune to demonic influence.” She began to stretch, her body rolling from one pose to another.
“I’m going to go climb. I need to think.” She walked to the back door and went out into the afternoon sun.
Decklyn was stunned. He had never thought that he could have brought the danger to her. As she crossed the backyard, she stripped off the nightgown and he noted that her parents were sitting quietly, their eyes fixed and looking within. Telepathy. Damn. He wondered if he and Anryn would develop the same ability. There were some signs already, he felt her panic back at his home, and her gentle acceptance of him when she woke. That had to be something.
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He followed Anryn to the yard and watched her climb the tree. She wasn’t a creature of the woods, but she was at home there. Her muscles stretched and grew taut as she pulled her body up the tree. She was fifty feet in the air when she reached her tree house. She dangled her legs off the porch and stared into the sunset. He wanted to leave her to her reverie, but more than that, he wanted to join her.
There was no way that he was climbing that tree. So that left one option. Shedding his shirt, exposing the burn marks to the fading light, he shifted into his winged human form. The warrior shape. In this form, he could speak, fight, fly, and mate.
Bending his knees, he pushed off and shoved down with his wings and a burst of magic. He circled the tree slowly, climbing ever higher, until he was engaged in a shaky hover near Anryn.
She had watched his ascent with bemusement. This was new. Although she had seen several dr
agons in her lifetime, this was the first time she had seen one in flight. He was gorgeous. His skin was now a rich, navy blue. His eyes a starling contrast, yellow against the blue. His wings were enormous, the heavy strokes needed to keep him in flight blasting her with gusts of wind.
“For winds sake, sit down!” She moved aside and he landed next to her. She could see the marks
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that the demon had left, and winced at the healing scabs on his dark skin.
“This is quite the tree house.”
“It has three bedrooms, I used to invite Ruana and Albina to camp out. When I moved from my parents’ place, they said I could take it with me.”
That puzzled him. “But the tree is grown through it. How did you move just the house?”
“We didn’t. This is my tree. It has seven hundred wards on it. My father started on them the day I was born. It walked here.” She leaned back and the leaves rustled in contentment.
“What will it do when you come to live with me?”
“If you have a safe place for it, it will walk to us.”
“Us?”
“Yeah, us.” She stroked her hand up his thigh, kneading at the muscles as she went.
White pointed teeth gleamed in the dark face and his eyes danced with glee. “That reminds me. I owe you a massage.”
Faster than she could move, he had her up in his arms and was walking into the tree house. He looked around the comfortable living room, and walked into the first open doorway. The bedroom. Score!
“Do you have any oil around here?”
“None that you are getting your hands on
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mister.” He had dropped her onto her belly on the small double bed. It was only a mattress on a frame on the floor, but it would do. She craned her head around and tried to keep him in her sights. No use. He found her stash.
