The Queen's Wings

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  I actually made a squealing sound and grabbed it from him. “Thank you! Thank you!” I pulled out my copy of Hawthorne’s Last of the Mohicans and smiled. It was undamaged. The rest of the stuff was as I left it.

  “You’re welcome.” Red smiled down at me. “I’m Jack, by the way.”

  In this light, his hair was more auburn than red, and it curled down to his shoulders. He wore faded jeans and a T-shirt that said Tourists are Yummy. He was cute in a I’m-the-good-cop-to-his-bad-cop sort of way.

  Jack’s upper body resembled a triangle without all the pointy bits. I’d bet my last paycheck he had abs you could pound a sweater against in the creek out back. I didn’t want to stare too long, but if Levi Strauss had him in mind when making blue jeans, it’s no wonder they were so popular. Jack’s scent was like hot buttered popcorn drizzled in caramel. With what I considered was remarkable self-restraint, I didn’t immediately ask Jack to turn around so I could check out the rear view. But it was on my list of things to do.

  “What did that idiot Markus want with you?” Jack asked.

  I forced myself to stop ogling him and stare up into his pretty green eyes.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Reed said.

  “It does,” Jack said, evenly. “He said she was a Queen.”

  “He was lying,” Reed said through his teeth.

  “You can’t be so sure.”

  “Are you challenging me?”

  The testosterone in the air was nearly at choking level when they faced off at each other.

  “Oh no,” I said and grabbed a magazine off my desk. I started rolling it up. “No dominance games. The walls can’t take it. I’m not putting up with two studs fighting in the All Knowing’s lair. Are you crazy?”

  They stopped staring at each other and turned to glare at me. I didn’t like being the center of attention.

  “You’re not putting up with fighting?” Reed asked.

  “Are you going to hit me with a rolled-up newspaper?” Jack said with a grin.

  I let the magazine slide to the floor and focused on the first question. “Only a stud with more balls than brains would saunter into a Great Wyrm’s lair and throw his weight around.” I glanced at Jack. “Or fight a drake bare-handed.” I stared at Reed.

  “Reed had a Taser stick,” Jack said. “And eats drakes for breakfast. Me, I get indigestion from them.”

  “Cows do that to me,” I said and then closed my eyes to reboot my brain. “Seriously, I’m Niall’s assistant. If you could let me know what you need him for, I can check and see when he’s free.”

  They exchanged a look that I didn’t understand.

  “Human, this is a matter for dragons,” Reed said.

  “Since when do dragons work for our government?” I asked.

  “Always,” he said with a frown.

  “I didn’t catch your name, Agent…” I remembered his name perfectly well. I just wanted to see what he would say. Plus if I could distract him from bothering Niall, it would be a more peaceful morning.

  “Special Agent Reed.”

  “What happened at the embassy, Special Agent?”

  Reed simply glared at me. He was like a finely carved marble statue. All icy beauty and stillness. But when our eyes met, something uncoiled in my stomach and spread warmth throughout my body. I’d never been dragon-struck—losing all self-control around dragons—but Reed made me feel different inside. I could have held his gaze all day. There was something compelling underneath his douchebag attitude.

  Jack moved in closer, which broke me out of the spell. “I’m Jack.” I blinked up at him, but shook his outstretched hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said automatically.

  “Zhang’s fine,” Jack said. “He’s just a little embarrassed at letting two drakes get the better of him.”

  I ignored Reed’s lip curling into a sneer as I fought a blush when Jack wouldn’t let go of my hand.

  “Bretzche, let go,” Reed said, his tone low with revulsion.

  I flinched. I didn’t know a lot of the dragon language, but that word was a derogatory phrase for a dragon who chased after humans, sexually.

  “What were you doing up in Zhang’s office?” Jack said.

  “I’m a dragon, too,” I said before I could stop myself. “But I can’t shift. Not yet anyway.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows, dropping my hand like I had just told him I was a leper.

  I sighed. Here we go again.

  “No, you’re not.” Reed’s disgust nearly dripped the paint off the walls. “You’re too old.”

  “I’m a late bloomer,” I said, but it sounded lame even to me.

  “You’re insane,” Reed said.

  “That will be quite enough,” Niall said.

  He had reverted back into his Yale professor persona and doddered into the room, pushing the curtain aside. He gave the impression of being slow and feebleminded but Niall could move like greased lightning if the situation warranted it. I was glad to see him. His fresh-washed cotton and spearmint scent coiled around me like a familiar hug.

  “Do dragons think cats are tasty?” I asked him. When I was nervous, every dumb thing that had ever crossed my mind tended to come out.

  Niall was used to it and appeared to consider my question.

  Reed gaped at me.

  Jack snorted and glanced up at the ceiling. I had the impression he was trying not to laugh. As far as second impressions were going, I was doing just great.

  “I think a cat would be too small of a morsel to adequately satisfy a dragon’s palate,” Niall said.

  “That was ALF,” Jack said.

  He had everyone’s attention.

  “You know, Alien Life Form? TV show from the eighties. Maybe you’re one of those?”

  I flinched away from the mockery. It had been said with a genuine smile, but the drakes’ teasing from yesterday was a little raw.

  Niall frowned and harrumphed at Jack. “Carolyn is a student of mine. She needs to gather data for her thesis. Kindly refrain from giving her a poor impression of our race by being sarcastic.”

  “It’s all right,” I said.

  “My apologies,” Jack bowed. “I was going for a joke and failed.”

  That made me feel a little better. “I know what that’s like.” I moved back to my desk and started to collate the paperwork. I was pretending to be normal. Fake it until you make it.

  “So tell me what brings the mercenaries to my door?” Niall asked.

  “We’re government agents now,” Reed said. “We no longer work for hire.”

  “USA. USA. USA,” Jack chanted, throwing a fist in the air.

  Reed’s fist clenched, and I cleared my throat. He relaxed a finger at a time. “I need your help with a case.”

  “I’m not joining your little crew.”

  “I’m not asking you,” Reed said in a voice that made me shiver. “It’s a young man’s game.”

  “Oh, there goes the paint job,” I said and grabbed for the shotgun under my desk as Niall moved like quicksilver and pinned Reed to the wall. The one thing he hated was being called ancient—even if he was.

  Jack had moved behind Niall, which put his back to me. I racked the shotgun, ejecting the shell, so Jack heard what I had in my hand, and aimed at the center of his back.

  “Back off,” I said. “It’s a fair fight.”

  “Between you and me, little Queen? Not even close.” But he moved away, almost stalking me. I didn’t let the shotgun waver. It would do exactly diddle squat, but it would hurt and distract him. Maybe I should get a Magnum like Kristoff had. I could be Dirty Carolyn. Jack smiled and I really wished dragons weren’t so handsome.

  “Why can’t they look like sleestaks in human form?”

  Jack faltered. “Who are you talking to?”

  “Was that out loud?”

  He nodded.

  “Myself.” I lowered the shotgun when he was in touching range.

  “What’s a sleestak?”

>   “It was from a TV show from the seventies. Land of the Lost. I think Chekhov from Star Trek was one of the lead writers. I’m a YouTube freak…” I trailed off again at the laughter in Jack’s eyes.

  He rested a hip on my desk and flipped through the magazine I dropped. Of course it was Dragon World, but it was the one with Rathin—a Hindi dragon Jane had a crush on—on the cover. I was saving it for her.

  I vaguely heard Reed and Niall speaking in a really old form of Gaelic. I didn’t understand a single syllable, but knew they were comparing dicks—figuratively speaking.

  Jack choked.

  “Shit, was that one out loud too?” I groaned.

  “You are going to be a lovely Queen.”

  “Don’t call her that,” Reed ground out, his flesh flaking away into black scales.

  “Don’t speak to her in that tone.” Niall backhanded him.

  “Oh crap, there goes my desk,” I said and ran out into lobby area as Reed exploded into his dragon form. I put the safety on the shotgun and wasn’t surprised to see Jack right next to me.

  “Do you want some coffee?” I asked.

  “Why don’t we go out?”

  We both winced at the sound of splintering wood and crashing of office equipment.

  “My research!” Niall roared and the sound elongated into a full dragon’s boom.

  “Good idea.” I slid the shotgun in between two filing cabinets and scurried out the door. “You’re buying though. My purse is under ten thousand pounds of dragon butt.”

  Chapter Three

  Third Rule of Dragons: Humans not bearing magical blades can be useful for many tasks

  I wrapped my fingers around a very hot, sweet excuse for a coffee and stared into Jack’s green and gold-flecked eyes. His eyes reminded me of my tail. I couldn’t believe I was actually sitting across the table from a dragon. Most of them despised humans, and the ones who actually heard me speak usually crossed the road to get away from me.

  “So what happened at the embassy?” I asked him, spreading cream cheese on my bagel. We were pretty much alone, but the café staff was gearing up for the lunch rush. I saw a couple of waitresses and even the barista try to catch Jack’s eye. But he had his full attention on me.

  It was intoxicating. So much so that I felt that I was a passenger in my own body. I didn’t know if this was what humans felt in the presence of a dragon stud. Niall was far past the breeding age to send out any pheromones, so I couldn’t compare Jack to him. My hand wanted to reach out and touch his face, which was odd because I wasn’t a touchy-feely type of person. Maybe he made my inner dragon roar—in a good way, not the puking-acid way.

  “That’s part of what Reed wants to talk to Niall about.”

  Our waitress brought over two more cappuccinos. “They’re on the house.” She smiled at Jack. “We’re trying out a new recipe.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “Perhaps, I can get your number and I can tell you exactly what I liked about it.”

  The waitress scrawled her number on a napkin and giggled. She didn’t even glance at me.

  “Apparently, another one of my dragon powers has surfaced,” I said when she went back behind the counter.

  “What?” Jack asked, leaning forward toward me.

  “Being invisible in your presence.”

  He shrugged. “You are a Queen. She is a human, think nothing of it.”

  “Then why are you pocketing her number?”

  “Are you jealous?” He smiled. “I promise you will always have my best.”

  “I barely know you,” I gritted out. I was a little jealous and that wasn’t like me.

  “Don’t begrudge me my little distractions.” He blew a kiss at the waitress, who tittered in response. “You’re a Queen.”

  “I’m not royalty. My dad sells cars, and my mom is a banker.”

  Jack chuckled. “You will have many studs to play with at your whim.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” I licked the foam from the rim of my cup and then blushed as his gaze narrowed on me with a hot promise.

  “You just did.”

  I sighed. Now he sounded like my brother. I ignored what he said and asked my question anyway. “Why are your females called Queens?

  “Because they rule territories. As you will.”

  “You believe me? That I will be a dragon?”

  He shrugged. “Why would you lie?”

  “No one believes me.” I winced at the whining tone in my voice.

  “Niall does.”

  “I think he keeps me around because it’s too much trouble to break in a new assistant.”

  Jack shook his head. “If you were merely human, he wouldn’t have struck Reed.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Reed could use a sock in the jaw.”

  Jack almost snorted his freebie cappuccino out his nose at that one.

  “What convinced you I’m a Queen? Seriously, no one else seems to believe it. Zhang certainly didn’t.”

  Jack inhaled, as if he would breathe me in.

  Butterflies tickled my toes, and I had that out-of-body experience again.

  “You don’t smell like a Queen, but you have a pleasing aroma.”

  “Well, I’m glad I don’t stink.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

  “But there is a reaction between us.”

  I nodded. “I feel it.”

  “And your friend the drake seemed to believe it.” Jack shrugged. “I lose nothing by believing you and everything for doubting you if you do shift.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t a mercenary?” I retorted and drank my coffee. At least he was honest.

  “There are far too many males searching for a Queen for me to even hope you could be faithful to me, but I’m hoping I could be your consort. Or at least your protector.”

  Shivers threatened to untether me from my body, but I fought them.

  “You want to slow down,” I said. “I’m not keeping a male harem.”

  “The other Queens do,” he said. “I’m also not harem-boy material. I’m a man of action in more ways than between the sheets.”

  “How nice for you. I think we’re also jumping the gun here. I can’t shift.” I stared into my coffee cup. Listen to me being the voice of reason all of a sudden.

  “It’s just a matter of time,” he said.

  “Do you think so?” I looked up to catch him staring at the waitress’s ass.

  “Maybe I don’t want a harem and be waited on hand and foot.”

  His attention was back on me. “Why not?”

  “Maybe I want to be a woman of action.” Truthfully, action and I weren’t close—unless speed-reading was a sport. I’d have a gold medal in that.

  “Can you fight?”

  Time stopped. I felt pushed to the back of my own mind.

  “I’m a lover, not a fighter,” I said and batted my eyes. What? No, that’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to say, I’m a scholar. But the words were stuck in my mouth. Jack, of course, took that like the come-on it was and reached across the table to hold my hand.

  What the heck was happening to me? I pushed back and my ears popped.

  I snatched my hand back. “Careful, you might make the waitress jealous.”

  “I don’t care about the human. There are millions of them, but only a handful of Queens. My turn for a question. What did you do to convince those drakes you were a Queen, if you didn’t shift.”

  “It’s gross. I’ll tell you when we’re not eating.” I took a bite of my bagel.

  “They wouldn’t be taken in for questioning. Do you understand what that means?”

  “They killed themselves?” That didn’t make sense. Why would a dragon not fight to the death?

  “They went into the weave when they realized they wouldn’t win. They did so to avoid questioning.”

  “Can they come back?”

  “If they had a body, but that’s been taken care of.” Jack had a ruthless smile and while I was really attrac
ted to him, the casual way he spoke of death chilled me.

  “What’s the weave?” My fingers itched for my laptop, but I’m pretty sure he’d clam the hell up if he realized this was all going into my thesis.

  “It’s complicated,” he said.

  “Use little words.”

  He thought about it for a moment. “It’s like an ocean of power.”

  “Where is this ocean?”

  “Schenectady.”

  I raised my eyebrow at him.

  He grinned. “It’s all around us. As a dragon, you will be able to touch it, add power to it and if you are weak, it will drain power from you.”

  “So they jumped into this ocean to save themselves from being tortured?”

  “To use simple words, yes,” Jack said. “Which is why it’s very important that you tell me what they wanted from Zhang. Did they know you were a Queen? Did you start this war, Helen of Troy?”

  “Is this the face that launched a thousand studs?”

  “You could be horse-faced and it wouldn’t matter. A hatched dragon has one less Queen he can mate with. Of the five females we have left, one would be his mommy.”

  Well, that was a boost in the old self-esteem.

  “Who’s your mommy?” I asked.

  “I didn’t hatch. I shifted when I was eleven. Reed is old Iron Britches’ kid, though.”

  It was my turn to hurk my drink. “Iron Britches?”

  “That’s what the studs call Esmeralda, the Brood Mother.”

  “Are you looking to breed?” It was out of my mouth before my hand could slap it back.

  He winked at me. “You know it, little Queen.”

  “Isn’t eleven a little young to shift?”

  “Isn’t thirty a little old?” he countered.

  “Twenty-two,” I said icily, but he had a point, so I quickly changed the subject. “What did Reed want with Niall? Is there really a dragon war going on?”

  “Not yet.”

  I waited, but that’s all Jack said. I leaned forward. “Niall is going to tell me anyway.”

  Jack smiled into his coffee. “That’s his prerogative.”

  “You’re afraid of Reed chewing on your ass if you spill the beans.”

  “There’s an image.”

  My vision went hazy, and I had to concentrate not to get up from my chair and sit on Jack’s lap. That was so not me. I swallowed more coffee, fighting for focus. “Do you think Reed will hurt Niall?”