by Tate James
“Fuck,” George whispered. “Ari, are you alright?”
I was fine. But I really fucking wanted to know who this Warden guy was and why I was connected to him even though I hadn't met the fucking asshole. Guess our orgy was powerful enough that I vicariously had had sex with him, too. Figures.
“Fine,” I breathed, moving on with my search until I found Shane.
As soon as I ran into the essence that was his, I could feel a slight breeze picking up stray bits of my hair. I wasn't sure if it was real or not, but it was comforting in a way. Shane was okay; he was alive.
And he definitely wasn't anywhere near here.
“He's not here,” I said, opening my eyes again. This time, I didn't get distracted; I had a good lead on Shane's magic. It felt … like it was underneath us. “He's in the sewers,” I said, paused, wetted my lips. “I think.”
“The sewers,” George said, and although there were a lot of plumbing and pipe jokes I could've made with that, I said nothing. You know, plumber lost in the sewers is funny and all that … “Okay,” George said, and then he shifted back into his dragon form. “I'm going to look for him,” he told me, flicking the long, curved length of his tail. Tiny leaves sprouted from it here and there. “Tell the others.”
Before I could respond, he whipped forward and disappeared into the tunnel.
Fuck me running.
I was going to have to go after him, wasn't I?
I jogged back to the house, through the herd of werewolves, and inside.
“Billy,” I snapped, relieved to see that Reg was actually sitting up, blood trailing down one side of his face. His mother … I didn't see her anywhere. “Shane's in the sewers,” I said, stomping one heeled foot for emphasis. “Like, way, way down in the sewers. George went after him, and so am I.”
I turned before the boys could stop me and got about fifteen feet before there was one asshole on either side of me.
“Slow your roll, ST,” Reg said, and I had a hard time explaining to myself why I was so fucking glad to hear him speak, see him standing up next to me, even if he was covered in blood. “You're not going anywhere without us.”
“You're injured,” I told him, trying to pull my arm from his grip. He was strong as fuck, Reg was.
“I'm fine,” he said, but he didn't look it. I wasn't exactly sure how healers worked, but he didn't seem like he was ready to take on cuntmuffin again. “Once I shift, I'll be fine …”
“Until you shift back,” Billy said, sounding pissed off. He gave me a look and I swear, there was more than just metaphorical fire burning in those eyes of his. He was fucking madder than a wet hen, as Shane might say. “Our dragon forms are fluid, elemental,” he stressed, dragging me across the wet grass toward the sewer entrance. “But our human forms … they're fucking meat sacks.”
“Wow, Billy, really, your talents as a poet are simply wasted,” Reg said, scowling at him. “I know my own limits, okay?”
“Yeah? Well I know your limits better than you do. Sit your ass back and wait for us. Go round us up some backup.” Billy pulled me from Reg's grip and toward the sewer entrance. I had no idea what we were going to find down there, but I could feel Shane slipping further away from us, George chasing after him. “Stay close,” Billy warned, crossing his arms over his chest. “And stay in dragon form.”
He cocked a brow, like he was waiting for me to shift. Again.
“Well, I don't fucking know how I did it the first time, do I?” I half-shouted and Billy's eyes tightened, like he was really trying not to shake the shit out of me.
“Doll face, now really isn't the time for your self-doubting shit. Just give into it and it'll happen naturally. It's a part of who you are now …” He nodded encouragingly to soften the hard words. He was right though: Shane was lost somewhere deep in the sewer and an injured George was chasing after him. I needed to pull my shit together fast and go save them.
Taking a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut tight, as it was how I seemed to be getting all my 'magic' done these days. I let the tension and worry drain out of my body and instantly felt the shift washing over me like one of those fancy rainfall showers. Mental note: make my new husbands upgrade the bathroom when this was all over.
“'atta girl,” Billy murmured, shifting into his own dragon form and nodding his huge scaled head at me, flames dancing down the back of his neck and spine like a mohawk. He tapped shiny black claws against the ground and ran his long tongue over white-white teeth. It shouldn't have been sexy, but ... it kind of was anyway. “Come on then, Firebug. Stick close and point the way.”
“Yes sir, my dear dragon captain,” I said, slopping on a heavy dose of sarcasm—just to maintain my usual norm. Couldn't let a crisis derail me from snark and sarcasm, now could I?
“We're not fucking dragons.” Billy's indignant voice echoed around the walled confines of the sewer as he took off with me tight behind him. Mm. After this was all over, I think maybe I would like to be tight behind him. Or rather, maybe I'd like him tight behind me?
Whoops, might take a bit of getting used to not to let my hormones derail every thought I was having down the road of sex, sex, sec. Fuck knows I didn't need to be thinking about Reg deep throating Shane earlier …
“Never thought I'd find two men going at it as fucking hot as if they were doing me,” I mumbled, like way louder than I intended. Shit echoed down here—it wasn't my fault!
“Seriously? Just … focus on finding Skeeter, would you, doll?” Billy said, the flaming orange and red shape of his body twisting around corners and lighting up the darkness ahead.
It was a good thing my dragon form couldn't blush, or I'd be the color of a slapped ass right now. At least I assumed we couldn't. Shaking my head to clear it, I focused again on finding my connection to the air elemental.
He was even further away this time, and I had to carefully dodge the live wire that was my connection to the mysterious Warden.
“Got him!” I called to Billy and saw him cringe, as much as a dragon can cringe. Sorry, echoes again. Having sex down here would definitely suck; I was already loud enough as it was. And then there was that ball slapping thing ... in echo? No thank you.
“Lead the way, Ari—it'll be quicker than you trying to direct me.”
Together, we flew through that sewer pipe at what felt like the speed of light, taking each turn and intersection with unwavering confidence that we were heading in the right direction. It was as easy as holding that thread that connected me to Shane and just … pulling. All of a sudden we were almost on top of them, both Shane and George.
At some stage, we'd crossed from the sewer into the storm water system and had just almost landed right on top of our missing lovers. The shock of it sent me straight back into my human form, and given my human form couldn't travel the elements like my dragon form could, I ended up plunged into a deep pool of ice-cold water.
For a moment, I flailed wildly under the water, freaking the fuck out that I was going to drown, but then remembered I could now control the elements—water being one of them. Trying to be delicate about it, I politely coaxed the water to bring me back to the surface, but must have thrown a little much oomph behind it because my body shot out like someone had just detonated a stick of dynamite.
“You okay, sugar?” Shane coughed as I landed hard on the concrete ledge both he and George were resting on. “Looks like you're getting a handle on those powers pretty quick?”
An incoherent groan bubbled out of me as I pushed myself up to sitting. I was still in my ridiculous bondage outfit and somehow even the stiletto boots had survived all the fighting and shape-changing, but I was soaked. My hair hung in front of my face in wet noodles and I had no doubt all of Britt's carefully applied makeup was halfway down my face. I bet my black eye looked particularly awful right about now.
“That bad, huh?” I muttered, noticing the looks on both Shane's and George's faces and interpreting it as holy fuck, Ari, you look like death warmed
up.
“Don't be ridiculous, Arizona,” Shane scolded with a gruff voice. “You're as pretty as a peach—always are. We're just starin' because your, ah ...” He waved his hand toward my chest and smirked.
“Oh for the love of fucking Vegemite,” I growled, tucking my boob back into the stupid pleather top where it belonged. I guess it took just a smidgen more practice to get all my clothes back in the right place after shifting.
“Need me to check everything's in place at the other end, sug?” Shane winked at me and I fought back the urge to take him up on the offer. Damn sexy air elemental.
“Thanks, but I never did find my panties earlier.” I meant it as a shutdown but there was a long pause while both George and Shane stared at me with heated gazes.
“I see that,” Billy chuckled from behind me, where he must have just shifted back into human form. Of course after my abrupt exit from the water I had ended up on all fours with my ass in the air.
“Ahem,” I fake coughed, sitting back on my ankles to hide at least a little bit of my dignity, “so what the hell, Shane? What are you doing down here? You had us all really fucking worried and George needs to see a fucking healer!” George was holding his arm awkwardly, but it didn't seem to be bleeding out which was odd, given the severity of the wound.
“I know,” Shane grunted. “I'm holding an air bandage on it for him. We just couldn't quite work out how to get back to Charlie's house from here. These tunnels and pipes really all look the same …”
“So what you're telling me”—I held back a smile—“is that you were up shit creek in a barbed wire canoe with a rusty teaspoon for a paddle until Billy and I found you?”
“I actually understood that one,” George said, lighting up a bit. “She means we were fucked.”
“Exactly!” I winked at him; George got me. “What were you doing all the way down here anyway?”
“Ah, when Kuntemopharn did his little disappearing act, I caught the tail end of him disappearing down the sewer, so I decided to follow and see if I could find out where the fuckers were camped out or some shit.” Shane shrugged. I couldn't argue; it was sound reasoning.
“So did you?” I hated when people dragged out the suspense in their stories. Drove me nuts.
“No, but I did get some pretty useful information. Can we go back to the house though? I'm worried George and I won't make it back if we use much more energy down here.” Shane really did look beat. His dark blue eyes were packing so many bags it was like he was going on holiday, and his broad shoulders were slumped with exhaustion.
“I guess so …” I grimaced. “Back into dragon form then?”
“Correct—although we're not dragons,” George said playfully and I just rolled my eyes, sliding into my dragon form with considerably more ease than the last few times. Although, you know, still like a stumbling newborn calf.
“If it walks like a dragon, and talks like a dragon,” I muttered under my breath.
“Still not a dragon, sugar.” Shane's voice slid into my head like honey over a biscuit. “Let's go on and get back before we get caught in a turd-floater.”
The four of us made quick work of getting back to the house as all I needed to do was follow the thread connecting me to Reg and we were back inside the library in no time. It was a pretty nifty trick, come to think of it.
“George you should get that arm seen to.” I frowned as we all rematerialized into our human forms and he clutched at it, groaning.
“I'll take him to the healer and then we can reconvene in Reg's room. Sound okay, sugar plum?” Shane asked, raising an eyebrow at me. Thing was, last time one of us had used the word reconvene, we'd ended up in an orgy.
Not sure if that bothered ... or excited me.
Like I was going to argue the point now, while George was bleeding out.
“Of course,” I said smoothly, my unconscious mind repeating orgy, orgy, orgy over and over again. “Go. We need to make sure Reg is okay anyway …” I trailed off and gave Billy a look. Did we know if Joan was alive or not? Billy gave me a small head shake so I kept my mouth shut, waiting until the other two men left the room.
It wasn't my place to tell Shane and George that their foster mother might be dead.
“Do you think Joan ...” I began hesitantly, surprised that I even cared if the bitch was dead. Thing was, if she went now I wouldn't get the chance to prove her wrong about me.
“There you are,” Charlie interrupted, coming into the library and pausing for a moment, staring down at the glass beneath his feet like he'd just realized this room was a bloody mess. When he lifted his face back up to stare at us, there were lines there I hadn't noticed before, like he'd aged a decade in the short time since I'd met him upstairs.
“Is Joan …” Billy started, breathing in sharply, like he was preparing himself for the news.
“She's alive,” Charlie said softly, rubbing both hands down his face, “but in bad shape.” He paused for a moment and gave his pseudo-son a long look. “We have a couple of big jobs next week—including all those new bathroom installs down at the rec center. Do you think you and the boys can handle it?”
“As soon as I see what condition Reg and George are in,” Billy told him, his boots crunching across the shards of glass as he walked over and gave the older man a one-armed hug, patting him roughly on the back in typical dude fashion. “Where's Reggie right now?”
“Upstairs with Joan,” Charlie said, expression tight. “I think he had a concussion, a few broken ribs, a punctured lung. He's fine now, but he needs to sleep. And please, for the love of god, we owe that poor man a bathroom remodel—pro bono obviously.”
“Healers have a take no payment, creed, Charlie,” Billy said, lighting up a cigarette and nodding with his chin for me to follow. “You know that.”
“Just install his new shower for me, William,” Charlie said, grabbing a glass decanter from a cabinet against the far wall. “And stay the night, would you—just in case.”
Billy stiffened, but I wasn't sure what that just in case was for—in case Joan died? In case Kuntemopharn and his allies came back? I had no idea.
I followed Billy out of the library and up the curved staircase, past the entrance to the veranda where we'd had our drinks, and then down the hall and up another set of stairs. He knocked lightly outside a pair of double doors that'd been left partially open, and then slipped inside.
Me, I just stood in the hallway feeling nervous and out of place. Felt a little weird to go into the boys' mother's bedroom and just, you know, stand there.
“You did well tonight,” Gram told me, materializing next to me in her spectacles and houndstooth suit.
“Did I?” I asked, moving over to the banister and leaning my butt against it. All along the wall, various oil paintings were lined up, hanging from a picture rail. They were all predictably themed but also sort of … weird—a fireplace with little fire lizards (salamanders, right?) crawling out of it, an ocean with mermaid tails protruding from the water, a tornado with a face, a tree crawling with small doll-like creatures hanging from its branches. The last one featured an electrical storm with purple, blue, and pink strikes dropping from thick, gray clouds.
Electricity.
I had another … elemental, uh, boyfriend out there somewhere ….
“Are you even listening to me?” Gram asked, drawing my attention back to her. I kind of wasn't, but I nodded anyway. “There's not a lot I can do for you in my current state, but I will tell you this—for once in your life, please take this seriously.”
“I take things seriously,” I said, still unsure as to how I felt about Gram's ghost following me around. I mean, I was sorry she'd died but we were never really close. Having her around now … I doubted much would change. “Are you going to tell me who my biological parents are?” I asked, but when I glanced over at her face, her expression was dire. “That bad, huh?”
“Arizona, your parents … you just met them.”
“I …
wait, what?!”
I felt my stomach drop and suddenly, my heart was racing like crazy again.
“That … rotting thing was my parent?!”
“Not the kuntemopharn,” she said, using the word easily, as if she was fluent in the elemental language, too. “But Daniel, and his wives.”
“His wives?!” I asked, feeling a whole bunch of emotions rush over me at once. I was simultaneously disgusted and fascinated at the same time. But then something occurred to me … “Wait, which one is my mother?” I asked, remembering Billy's wild story about all the elementals needing to, uh, come inside of me to get me pregnant.
“All of them, Duckie,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “But I'm not going to explain how six women and one man collect their fluids in a single place. You can figure that one out on your own.”
I just stared at her.
“My dad's a sexist polygamist prick with six wives?” I asked, and then realized that the cherry on top of my shit sundae was this—who the fuck was that metallic dragon?! I'd sort of been laboring under the impression that there were four elements, then I was told about a fifth and then a sixth … and now a seventh?! Did I have two fucking elemental a-holes out there connected to me?
“Pot calling the kettle black,” Gram warned, and then paused when Billy and Reg exited the room. Reg was clean, and wearing a fucking Pokemon shirt that was probably left over from his childhood. He smirked at me as soon as he saw me, so I figured everything was okay.
“Are you talking to yourself, ST?” he asked, glancing roughly in Gram's direction.
“How you're allowing that man to disrespect you like that …” she began with a tired sigh. Gram pushed her silver spectacles up on her face.
“Gram was just explaining how I had six mothers and one father,” I said, feeling the right side of my face twitch. “Weren't you, Gram?”
“Your father and your mothers were here tonight, yes. They're the ones that raised the kuntemopharn from the dead,” she added, tucking that little nugget of shit into her explanation like it wasn't particularly important.
