Dragon Bites

by Badger, Nancy Lee

  Dru hadn’t sniffed another dragon for thousands of miles, unless you counted the underwater creature the Scots called the Loch Ness Monster. And Nessía was a female. She didn’t like to think of Nessía, a poor excuse for a dragon. She didn’t even have wings.

  Her brother and sister dragons had scattered eons ago to eke out a living. To survive any way they could. Would she see any of them again? Dru smiled, until she remembered the night in the alley.

  The bright note?

  The handsome human soldier. Shaw promised to return in a week, and that meant today. What little they had shared had to sustain her until she saw him again. His kiss had filled her nights with heart stopping dreams. Shaw’s promise was the reason Dru looked forward to today.

  The end of the longest week of my life.

  Grabbing her apron from the peg on the wall, Dru slipped out of her bedroom. She skipped down two flights of stairs to the kitchen to face the day with smiles and happy thoughts, but came face to face with an employer sporting a disgruntled sneer.

  CHAPTER 3

  Surprised to find herself facing the woman who held her life inside her weathered palm, Dru’s chest filled with a sudden piercing dread. She backed up a step.

  “Dru, dear, you are late again.”

  “Beg pardon, Mistress Cumberland, I lost track of time.”

  “Most likely you were sleeping off the day. Your hair is an unruly mess of brown curls.” The woman’s lips thinned and her gaze swept over Dru, searching for other flaws. “If you want to keep working here, you shall strive to arrive presentable and on time.”

  “Understood,” Dru whispered. How could she have gauged her flight so poorly? She’d spent too much time thinking of Shaw and not enough time watching the rising sun. Dru dare not lose her job. The body and mind of the young girl she’d manifested into her current form only knew how to serve food and drink.

  Rumors were spreading on an ill wind across the city. The possibility of war kept business owners from taking on new workers. If Mistress Cumberland let her go, how could she replace her perfect attic accommodations? Her nature needed the freedom to fly, and how would she find another flat roof large enough to hold up under the weight of a dragon?

  Even a little one?

  Smoothing her hair into a more serviceable bun, she tied on her apron as she waited for her employer to return to the dining room. Footsteps clicked along the wide plank floors and disappeared.

  Maggie nodded to Dru.

  Dru threw her a look of disgust softened by an apology. “Sorry I’m late. My mind wandered.”

  “Ha! Ye were probably in yer little bed dreaming about a certain handsome lieutenant.” Maggie laughed, and returned to her cleaver and basket filled with chicken carcasses.

  “Shush, Maggie. This week has dragged on so long, I feel I may go mad. What if he does not come?” Dru’s heart clenched deep inside her chest. How could a man’s simple kiss turn a mighty dragon into a simpering lass?

  Because they had shared more than kisses.

  “Hurry with those pitchers, Dru,” Mistress Cumberland called from the dining hall.

  Dru jumped, surprised at her skittishness. Dru deemed her current employment important, but what more could she do than apologize? “What more does she want from me?”

  Maggie turned, her cleaver held high in her tiny hand. Maggie’s brows arched as if she thought about her answer. Dru had never known Maggie to hold back.

  “You have to understand, lass. Our employer is a widow running an inn and glorified tavern.”

  “She calls it a dining hall.”

  “Men come to eat and drink. Pretty tablecloths will never turn a sow’s ear into silk. Our employer is a woman in a man’s world. We are, as well.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “We are employed when most believe bad times are coming. She don’t hold slaves as other folks do, neither.”

  Slavery fueled the big argument between the states. Newspapers recounted how it made American territories pick sides. A conflict brewed and Maggie worried it could easily escalate. Black people were of a different race, but no different from the humans she lived and worked around than her dragon was from other creatures her size. Many people of Charleston regarded slaves as less than human. What if the residents of Charleston discovered Dru’s true self?

  Would they cast me out or throw me in chains?

  Maggie wiped blood and chicken feathers from her hands, then rinsed them in a bucket. She picked up a basket of bread and strode toward the dining hall. “Best to do as she says. Yer lieutenant may appear at any time.”

  Dru sighed when an image of the soldier’s striking face intruded on her thoughts. She managed to fill a pitcher with cider while her body hummed, the pleasure of their kiss making her want more. Wiping her sweaty palms on her apron, she bent over a bubbling pot. The pasty smell of porridge stopped her cold. As a born and bred carnivore, hiding her true nature took a toll at times.

  She licked her lips at the basket of chicken. She couldn’t wait until Maggie rolled the pieces in flour and spices than fried the meat in hot oil. Dru longed to devour them.

  Maggie strode back into the kitchen, an odd smile making her look ten years younger than her six decades. Dru’s defenses went on instant alert, readying for battle.

  “What’s gotten into you? Has Mistress Cumberland suffered a sudden demise?”

  The older woman sighed then nodded toward the dining room. “Soldiers from Fort Moultrie just walked in. Such a handsome lot, too.” Maggie’s eyes darkened. “ ‘Tis a pity their presence will stir others to eat elsewhere.”

  “Are the locals hostile toward men doing their jobs? Don’t they realize the channel needs protecting?” Dru’s heart pounded, and her fingers tingled for a reason other than worry about a possible war. Had Shaw arrived with the men?

  “Aye, he’s out there.”

  “Who?”

  “Yer fella. He’s straining his neck, glancing back here. I told him to be patient. His friends were making rude comments about you and him.” Maggie focused on Dru’s face. “Have you been doing something you shouldn’t?”

  “Nay. Aye. I let him kiss me, ‘tis all.”

  “Either his friends saw you two a’kissing, or he shared the news with them. Men are pigs. Be careful?”

  “I will.”

  Dru’s mouth watered at the mention of a favorite food source. She hadn’t tasted fresh pork on the hoof in several years. She rubbed her stomach and concentrated on the bubbling pot of porridge. A few quick stirs kept her fingers busy, and forced her feet not to run into the dining room and strangle the man. If Shaw had tattled to his friends, she might have to kill something.

  Pig or human? She cared not. Not as long as she sank her fangs into meat. With a surge of anger, her fingernails elongated into talons and her teeth into fangs. Fire built down deep inside her lungs. She strained against her beastly nature to keep calm, tamping down the rage.

  No sense divulging all my secrets to a roomful of soldiers.

  How dare he spread tales of their intimate moment? Was she naive for assuming Shaw considered her special? Well, if he harbored the idea she might kiss him again anytime soon, Lieutenant Shaw Stenhouse had better brace for a rude awakening.

  Dru grabbed an earthenware pitcher, pushed through the door, and entered the smoky tavern. Two men chewed on pipe stems. The others in the group shoveled Maggie’s fresh-baked bread into their smiling mouths.

  Are they smiling at me?

  Six soldiers peered at her from above their smirks as she walked toward them. Muted voices echoed easily since no other patrons filled the remaining tables. The unusual dilemma Maggie had mentioned. Happily, her employer was not in evidence, either.

  “Cider?” she asked, hefting the pitcher.

  “Cider for me,” one of the men said with a sly smile, “though something even sweeter would make my day.”

  Is he staring at my mouth?

  If the young, red haired soldier meant
his answer to amuse her, he’d failed. Dru stiffened her stance and waited for a true decision from her customers.

  Shaw sat quietly in the far corner, a frown marring his quiet good looks. Her knees wobbled as she gazed at his long, straight nose, square jaw, and clean-shaven cheekbones. When he’d kissed her a week ago, his evening beard left her sensitive human skin rough and red. Was this the man whose image filled her nights? Whose remembered intimacies made her body cry out for more?

  He focused on her face as well until the sweet-talking soldier laid a palm against her hip. Shaw stood, but Dru diffused the moment by pouring cider into the offender’s lap.

  “Clumsy whore,” he yelled, jumping to his feet and knocking his chair to the floor. The dining hall quieted.

  Dru stepped back, but not in fear. Her eyelashes swept nearly closed and her breath heated as anger rose. Danger lurked, and if the stupid man knew how close she’d come to burning him to a crisp where he stood, he would have kept his dirty accusations to himself.

  Turning, Dru slammed the pitcher on the table. Cider sloshed over the side, soaking the loaves of bread. Heads turned and voices rose, yet Shaw said nothing. Forcing her dragon temper to calm, she marched into the kitchen and out the back door. Maggie called her name as she passed, but Dru didn’t stop walking until she’d stomped through the empty alley and stood on the docks.

  The river lay below her, awash in sunlight. Salt-laced spray rose as gentle waves rolled beneath the pier. Seabirds dipped and rose, making her stomach growl. Rubbing her hands together, she lifted her face to the rising sun. Pain and self-loathing, amid such beauty, was not to be borne.

  They were stupid soldiers who had it all wrong. She was the furthest thing from a whore, though she had to admit she’d kissed a human male. So what? Why not kiss a handsome soldier?

  Eagerness to see what all the fuss is about spurs me on.

  With no companion on this continent nor back in Scotland, finding love and a mate left her little choice but humans.

  She gazed at the blue sky tinged with pink and sighed, “I want to fly.”

  “When you kiss me, I feel like I can fly.”

  Dru shrieked, and spun around. Tripping over a fisherman’s creel, she fell backwards, arms flailing as they searched for purchase. Two large hands grabbed her waist and settled her on her feet. Still in shock, she focused on Shaw’s handsome face, his expressive brows arched in concern. Why did he have to follow her, and in broad daylight?

  She glanced behind him, toward the inn. “Being seen with me will give yer friends more fodder to spew more lies.”

  He had the decency to blush; curse beneath his breath; and step back. Turning away, he kicked a stone into the inlet. While tiny circles spread out across the murky water, Dru rubbed her hands up and down her suddenly chilled arms. At times like this, she missed her heavy scales and the leathery wings she longed to wrap around her body.

  “I made a mistake. When I returned to the boat that night, my friends asked me what put the smile on my face. I told them. Forgive me?”

  “How dare ye share our special moment with others?” Dru glared at him, then was instantly sorry for the anger lacing her words. Was it wrong to believe that passion shared between two people should stay private?

  “You think kissing me was special?” Laughter crinkled his mouth.

  His annoying grin made Dru sputter to explain. “That is not what I meant and ye know it. Unmarried women are held to a higher standard than men.” Human women, that is. Dru could only hope her employer had not overheard the other soldier’s lies.

  Shaw kept smiling.

  “Ye took liberties, Lieutenant, and I won’t have ye giving other fellas ideas.” Her throat clogged with pain. Shaw had done something unforgivable by sharing, as evidenced by how his fellow soldier had treated her in the tavern.

  “No one had better touch you again,” he growled.

  Dru hesitated, then remembered he’d wronged her. He had no claim to her. “I do not go around letting strangers take advantage. I should have held my ground against ye, but ye aided me with those drunkards, so I thanked ye.”

  “I saved you. No more, no less, and did not seek a reward, but I discovered I could not resist the urge to kiss you. I find I want to kiss you again.”

  Dru stared up at him. The look she’d seen that night, just before he lowered his mouth and kissed her senseless, had returned. His silvery eyes blazed bright in daylight, and the grin had left his mouth.

  Unable to think of a response, and not wanting to fall under his spell again, she walked away. Away from him, the dock, and the sunlight. A sudden urge to return to the safety of the kitchen quickened her steps.

  “Wait.”

  “Nay.” She kept walking. His shadow hovered at her side, blocking the sunlight, chilling her to her dragon core. Did he plan to follow her inside? Mistress Cumberland would never accept such an indiscretion. “Leave me be.”

  “Miss Little, I cannot leave you. Not after what my so-called friend called you. I miss your touch. I have not slept because your kisses fill my dreams. Sometimes I feel as if I am flying, but then...”

  Dru’s steps slowed until she halted. He stood so close she could see flecks of gold circling his silver-gray eyes. When he would not meet her gaze, concern hit her.

  “What happens then?” she whispered.

  “I wake up screaming.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Shaw regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. Concern filled Miss Little’s face, furrowing her forehead. She stepped back. Why had he mentioned his nightmare to the woman? A stranger he met and kissed one night? Instead, he'd change the subject and explain how his visits might be coming to an end. Shaw wanted to make the most of today.

  To get to know her, he kept telling himself.

  However, the nightmares grew worse each night. Something involving Miss Little would soon escalate. He could feel it in his gut. Or, the rumors of a coming war could be fueling his thoughts.

  If he could only feel her lips beneath his, and press his body close to hers, then he might sleep again.

  “I am sorry this visit has started off on the wrong foot.”

  “Aye. Every woman wants to be courted by a man after his friend calls her a whore.”

  Dru’s mouth curved up slightly. Dare she laugh at him? The other soldier had certainly put a damper on his afternoon. He had better things to do then argue the fact with her.

  “What I mean is, let us not waste time arguing. My visits to town could soon stop. I might not see you again—”

  “Why?”

  Shaw’s ego rose to new heights at the worry echoing in her voice. She sounded like she’d miss him. Hope made his voice rise as he continued. “A conflict between the northern states and the southern plantation owners has been brewing for some time.”

  “Aye. Maggie talks about it daily. She has family in New Hampshire.”

  “Battles could erupt. Since Charleston is as southern as a city can get, and hosting a convention where secession will be discussed, that is a distinct possibility.”

  “How do ye know such a thing will happen?”

  “From newspapers, and from the look on peoples’ faces. I won’t be surprised if the first conflict erupts right here.”

  Shaw had a right to be nervous. He’d heard more than rumors. Military strategists continuously relayed information about the goings on of the plantation holders and their threats of secession. If the conflict boiled over, his soldiers would wind up in the middle.

  “Well, keep safe. If ye want to visit me while doing so, I will not send ye away.”

  Her whispered invitation rolled through him like thunder on a spring day. His heart pounded in his chest, and his hands yearned to pull her close. Her scent—cinnamon and apples—invaded his senses and reminded him of the night they met in the alley, hidden in shadows as he kissed her thoroughly.

  “One rule.”

  “Anything, Miss Little.” He choked out the words. H
is entire body vibrated with hope. She wanted to see him again, and soon?

  “Do not return with those men.”

  “Done,” he answered, then removed his glove, grabbed her hand, and shook. He would not mistreat her again, and he certainly wouldn’t allow others to do so.

  She wants to see me, was all he could think when she didn’t pull away. Joy spread through his belly like wildfire. Still holding his hand, she turned and strolled toward the alley. Her cool skin ignited his passion once more. Shaw resisted the urge to pull her into his arms in broad daylight, an action she would detest.

  She wanted to see him even after he’d kissed her in the alleyway, after the drunken sailors limped away? The rumored conflict had better stay a rumor. Nothing could keep him away.

  That’s not true and you know it. He was a soldier. An officer. A leader of men on the brink of possible civil war.

  And here I stand wasting precious time.

  The last time he came to town, important errands kept him from enjoying nothing but a quick pint of ale before he had to hurry back to the fort. He’d bought a loaf of bread from an old slave shivering in a doorway, then marched toward the docks when he’d heard the scuffle and saw Miss Little pinned to the ground, kicking and thrashing. He could only describe what came over him as an uncontrollable need to kill. Luckily for them, he’d brandished bread and not his sword.

  At first, Miss Little acted embarrassed that someone would come to her rescue. Lucky for him, she let him kiss her. After he’d helped her with the heavy bag of flour, he enjoyed another stolen kiss. She hadn’t thrown herself at him like a wanton, yet he used her as such.

  She should never want to see the likes of me, but she does.

  As long as she forgets about his flying nightmare, they could move on. He wanted nothing more than to get her into bed. With war looming, time was their enemy.

  ***

  Dru stared at the man at war with himself. He’d ignored the subject of flying, instead filling her head with talk of a possible war between countrymen. How absurd, or maybe not. Clan wars had erupted throughout Scotland’s history. Could such a war here be any different?