by Lucy Lyons
“And where is the redoubtable Mrs. Parks?”
“She had a last-minute meeting with the commandant. But redoubtable?” She arched her eyebrow.
“It’s a word,” said Tem.
“But is it the correct word? Recalcitrant is more like it.”
“As in ‘hard to deal with’?”
“I’m glad you know your five syllable words.”
“Sweetheart, I invented five syllable words.”
Astrid smirked. “Really?”
“Someone had to educate the savages.”
“You talk a good game, Mr. Rawlings. But you aren’t that old.”
“Call me Tem. All my friends and some of my good enemies do. And how do you know my age?”
“Tem, eh? What am I? Friend or enemy?”
“Don’t know. Can you tell me?”
“I’m your keeper, Mr. Rawlins. I certainly can’t be your friend.”
“Unfortunate.”
“For you, perhaps.”
He grinned. “I understand, sweetheart. You have to toe the party line.”
“Do I?” she replied provocatively.
There was a tension in her shoulders that was a sign of something, but what, Tem could not tell. But she kept the silly grin on her face, which again told him she was hiding behind it. But why?
“I think you should get a shower,” she said.
“Why?” said Tem.
She glanced at his chest, which he still had not bothered to wash from last night.
“You know why.”
“We aren’t allowed showers.” He shook his wrist, rattling the chains on his arms. “The shackles could rust.”
“Then maybe you need a good sponge bath.”
“Why? Are you offering?”
She cocked her head, but then down toward the plate she put in the exchange slot.
“Well, you know how that works. I’d have to retract the shackles and put you against the wall. Are you up for that?”
“Hmm, bondage and a sponge bath. I don’t know how I can resist.”
“Hey,” thrummed Evan in protest.
“Quiet, boy,” he replied. “I’m working here.”
“Oh, okay,” came Evan’s dispirited reply. Damn. Tem couldn’t help but feel for the boy, trapped in here just for his ancestors, and not any real wrongdoing of his own. But Tem was a mission: Operation Freedom. He smiled at the pretty attendant. She gave him one back.
“So, you are into bondage?” she said sweetly.
“Apparently.”
She snorted and Tem thought it was charming.
“I have a real thing for discipline,” said Tem with a smirk.
“Oh, a real 50 Shades man, eh?”
“50 Shades?”
“You don’t know what that is?”
“Yes, I do, we’re allowed a movie from time to time. I thought Christian was rather tame. Nothing much interesting there.”
“It was supposed to be a love story.”
Tem snorted. “Sure. With blindfolds and whips. That spells true love.”
“I see you are a skeptic.”
“And I see you’re an incurable romantic.” He slid forward, coming to the half foot he was allowed toward the glass. “Careful, darling. Remember humans are crunchy and tasty with ketchup.”
Hey, interjected Evan with a thrum. You know nothing of ketchup. Here you people call it ‘sauce.’
Quiet. Busy.
“You don’t scare me, Mr. Rawlins,” said Astrid. Her words brought him sharply back to her countenance, staring at him through the glass. She was totally unaware of the rumbling communication between him and Evan.
“Don’t I?”
“No. Eat your dinner and I’ll see about that sponge bath.”
“Don’t go to any trouble. I happen to know that my social calendar is shockingly thin of late. A missed clean-up or two won’t offend anyone but me.”
A pained look came across her face and he wondered if she wanted a chance to get up close and personal. She nodded her head again toward his plate, this time more pointedly.
“At least eat. You never know what you’ll need your strength for.”
She was trying to tell him something.
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll do that. Just to make you happy.”
She turned and looked over her shoulder toward him with a snappy shrug.
“I’ll check on you later,” she said. And then she sauntered away, affecting the cool matronly demeanor that was expected by her employers. Damn. She was up to something. And sexy. Damn sexy.
Hold up, old man. Until proven otherwise, she’s the enemy.
She left Evan a chocolate bar. What did she leave him?
He drew out the covered plate, reveling the intoxicating scent her hands left on it. With a turn, he set in on the metal protrusion that served as a desk on the right-hand wall. The security camera pivoted and followed him, but he was used to this. He pushed the chair forty-five degrees from the table in an affected casual air. Long experience taught him this position also had the advantage of blocking the line of sight of the camera to objects on the desk.
He lifted the metal cover and saw the mass of ground raw chicken. He sniffed. If he kept eating this dreck he’d get seriously sick. There wasn’t any ground bone in it, which was essential to a dragon’s diet.
“Fee, fie, foe, fum,” he hummed, remembering the old fairy tale. “I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.”
You’ve definitely been locked up too long.
Then you better see what you can do about that.
Talking to and answering himself was a bad sign. He definitely needed to get out of here.
Back to provocation.
He turned his head to the camera.
“Hey. I’m still waiting on my live goat.”
The image of Astrid rolling her eyes filled his mind. The flash of her eyes, the exasperation in her sigh was as real as if she stood in front of him.
What the hell was that?
Stay on task.
He cautiously tipped the plate up and to his disappointment found nothing. Why did he think she had left something for him? Then he remembered Evan’s candy bar. That couldn’t fit underneath the plate like he said, unless—
Tem inspected the dish again. It appeared to be sealed in its heavy base, but he slipped in his thumbnail between the crease of where the plate met the base and found the two pieces could separate. Coolly, slowly, so as not to alert whoever was watching for Astrid’s subversion, he lifted the plate and found a slip of paper. He pulled it out with his index finger, sliding it along the base and nipping it out with his forefinger and thumb.
As thin elegant script flowed across a small square of parchment paper.
Sorry. They’ve scheduled your execution for two days from now. I don’t know what I can do, but I’m trying to work out something.
A small spark of hope flared in his heart. Even the suggestion of freedom was a piece of joy that he wouldn’t deny. But she was one human girl and he couldn’t hope that she could overcome all the security measures installed in this prison.
Execution.
In one way, it would be a relief. Twenty-four years in prison wasn’t so long for a dragon of his years, but it was still intolerable to be denied his true form, to fly the skies and enjoy the freedom of the wind.
But it was wrong. He did nothing to deserve death but oppose a scaly worm that was bent on humanity’s destruction. As annoying as the younger race could be, it had incredible potential and deserved to live.
Tem stared at the paper and saw it was a damning piece of evidence. The last thing he wanted was the lovely Astrid to get into trouble for trying to help him or him agreeing to it. He stuffed the paper in his mouth and chewed it into a pulpy mess, then swallowed it. Tem still wasn’t sure whose side she was on. She could be a provocateur sent to excite him to a new crime. How much could he trust her?
She�
��s human. Very little.
He had to warn her off trying to help him.
Because if she did try, he was sure it would not go well for either of them.
CHAPTER FIVE
Astrid
Astrid’s heart beat double time as she walked away from Tem’s cage.
Tem. He asked me to call him Tem.
She felt honored, but knew she shouldn’t be. It was a tactic the prisoner used to try to gain her trust. From her Psychology of Inmates class, she understood this very well.
Astrid couldn’t be sure if the dragon had worked arcane magic on her to skew her feelings toward helping him. The iron shackles were supposed to shut down the magic, but in truth there was still much they did not know about dragons. And Astrid remembered the manifestation of Tem’s dragon eyes. That shouldn’t happen either. Perhaps the iron was not a sufficient deterrent to a dragon’s powers? Or maybe older dragons had more power than their human keepers realized? Certainly planning a breakout from a secure facility was a radical notion even for her. She wanted to work with dragons and learn more about them. But she didn’t want to become a criminal to do so.
And she didn’t put it past Tem to hide his abilities to keep what small margin of advantage he had over his human keepers.
Still, Mrs. Parks’ announcement of Tem’s execution had galled her.
Tem was the oldest dragon in captivity; he might be the elder of all the dragons on the face of the Earth. Her intuition told her no, that the older dragons were too cagey to get caught. But then again, Tem wasn’t exactly caught, but maneuvered into a certain position before his capture. At least that was what a review of his case file told her. But the upper crust manner in which he lived his life, the kinds of connections he had, told her he was a man who knew powerful people. Usually such individuals did not end up in prison unless they ran afoul of the powerful. This, she suspected, was Tem’s real crime.
Not something for which he should suffer execution.
Still, she was one woman against a huge organization, and she was supposed to be working for it, not against it.
Astrid walked into the security room and sat in the chair next to Tim, the technician that monitored the equipment and the alarm systems through the grounds.
“They’ve taken a liking to you,” he said simply.
Tim was about her age, with spiky blond hair and several piercings in his ears and above his eyebrow. Astrid didn’t know how he got away with “being out of uniform,” as the employment manual put it, but he did his work efficiently and Mrs. Parks seemed to like him. At least, she didn’t scowl at him like she did Astrid and the absent-without-leave Jane. Astrid hadn’t had a chance yet to get a feel for his politics on the matter of dragon incarceration. But if he was as vetted as thoroughly as everyone else, he was a law-and-order man, despite the metal in his face.
“They do.”
“Are you going to give him his sponge bath?”
His face was carefully composed but she could swear his voice held a smirk.
“Why would you care?”
“It would be seriously hot to see you wash him down. Do you think you can manage to pull his sweats down? I’m sure that area needs to be cleaned too.”
He spoke the words so evenly and in such a quiet voice that Astrid was caught off guard at the suggestive nature of his words.
“Tim,” she said just as evenly. “Are you a pervert?”
“Nope. Gay. I was seriously cheesed that Mrs. Parks made me leave the room last night so I didn’t get to see him again. And then she secured the recording so I couldn’t watch it. Took me all night to hack her passcode. By then it was time for day mode to come onboard.”
Astrid looked at Tim with new appreciation. Not that hacking evoked her admiration, but his persistence in trying to secure a piece of information did. Like her brother, now a computer systems student at University, Tim had a drive to master whatever systems in his charge, whether he was allowed that information or not.
“I was wrong. You aren’t a pervert. You’re a data daemon.”
He smiled. “Sorta. But instead of a program that initiates actions when a program is tripped, I’m more like a data dragon. I run in the background and keep an accounting of information.”
“Why would you do that?”
“It’s my job,” he said cryptically.
What? Did he mean he was a watcher of the facility employees? Who did he work for? She felt as if the floor was falling underneath her. How deep of a situation was she in?
“Should I call you Inspector Gadget?”
“Luv, that’s classified information. On a need to know basis only.”
She swallowed hard. “So why are you telling me this now?”
“Because I’d hate to see a nice bird like you get fouled by nasty politics.”
“And that’s what you think this place is?”
“Not my place to say. And there’s one thing about me that you should know.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t do more than what the program calls for.”
“Strict protocol, eh?”
He gave her a glance and shrugged his shoulders. “Government pension, luv. I don’t corrupt the data stream. And the data stream says the dragons are a danger.”
Astrid sat and studied the monitor. She came to study the dragons. She studied hard for four years to get a chance for this work. But things were rapidly devolving into an untenable situation. Calvin Porter was obviously dying, a suicide by refusing to eat. Evan Waters didn’t belong here at all. And Templeton Rawlins was slated for the executioner’s axe.
Her hands curled at her side in her frustration. This was not what the government told the people. It certainly wasn’t justice. And, if allowed, the government would let the race of dragons die from unnatural causes.
What did Tim mean when he said he didn’t do more than what the program calls for? That if he guessed she was going to do something foolish he wouldn’t stop her? Or did it mean that he’d follow ‘strict protocols’ and alert the others if she did something to help the dragons?
Tim sat with his eyes flicking from monitor to monitor. He was a serious and thorough worker but the expression on his face was inscrutable. Astrid simply had no compass here to help her decide what to do.
“So, you’ll keep a good watch on me if I go in and give him that sponge bath?”
“It’s my job,” he said with a crooked smile. “Unless, of course, I have to go the bathroom.”
“The bathroom?”
“Yes,” he said with a smirk. “I might have to rub one off, and I can’t mess up the monitors.”
“Pervert,” she said.
“There are little perks to this job.”
She clapped him on the shoulder.
“I hope you enjoy yourself then.”
“Wait a second,” he said. “I have to use the john now. Keep an eye on the boards. I’ll be right back.”
Tim launched from his seat and out the door before she could say anything. She sat looking at the screens at a loss for what to do. Then at Tim’s station she saw a blinking strip at the bottom of his main screen. With a shock she realized they were the day codes for the electric locks on the doors and shackles. Her brand new key card would handle the doors, but the codes for the shackles had to be input either from the central board here, or as a back-up, on the shackles themselves.
Astrid swallowed hard. It didn’t matter if Tim made a mistake leaving these codes in full view or did it deliberately. There was no way she’d get this information again. If she was going to do something to help the dragons, it had to be today and it had to be soon before Mrs. Parks returned from her meeting with the commandant.
Tim returned in a rush and fell into his swivel chair.
“Everything okay?” he said.
“Nothing happened.”
“Sure? These dragons are tricky.”
“If I didn’t catch it, I’m sure it’s on the tapes.”
; “Right. So then, are you going to give Rawlins his sponge bath?”
“Should I?” she said.
“That’s up to you, luv,” he said staring at the screens. “That’s up to you.”
CHAPTER SIX
Tem
The acrid scent of his own cum on his chest filled his nose as he lay on his cot. The cot was a particular form of torture, the length a shade too short and the laughable thing they called a mattress too hard to be comfortable.
He growled, a low rumble that began in his throat but spread to his chest.
What? thrummed Evan.
Nothing. Thinking.
You do that, eh?
Be quiet.
Lord, you are grumpy. What’s going on? Thinking about the lovely Astrid?
Tem’s denial curdled in his throat, producing a bubbly grumble that thankfully didn’t travel through the walls. He was thinking about Astrid. Or rather discrete molecules of her scent clung around him that prevented him from not bringing images of her to mind.
The flash of her smile.
The brightness of her eyes.
Her svelte curves.
The sway of her hips.
It was enough to bring him to a half-hard state, a purgatory of repressed thoughts and un-actionable desires.
Even before his imprisonment, Tem hadn’t had such strong feelings for a female. Not that there were many she-dragons in the first place, but the very few occasions he had met one hadn’t done anything to set his heart aflame. No. The vixens he had met were cold, calculating and tended to think of dragon bulls as an amusement when convenient, and annoying the rest of the time. That dragonesses could reproduce asexually when they so desired did nothing to draw the sexes together.
Which was why half-dragons such as Evan existed. Male dragons were as passionate as females were dispassionate. And human women, or sometimes men, could meet the fire within a dragon’s heart with their own animal passions. Most of the time, such matings were fruitless since the intersections between dragon and human genome were few. But there had undeniably been a rise in hybrid births, no doubt a cause for alarm within the government. To Tem this rise in hybrid births made sense. Humans had an incredibly ability to harbor, combine and disseminate recessive genes. This probably led to humans with recessive genes mating with other humans with recessive genes, creating rare individuals who could bear dragon young. It was a fascinating development that he had been studying before he was arrested and imprisoned, and was something he had thought on much during these past twenty-four years.
