Fianna the Gold

by Louisa Kelley

  Nareen indicated with a sweep of her arm they should all enter the cabin. Marcus resisted, and planted his feet with a grunt when Fianna pulled on the rope.

  “Hello, Marcus,” Nareen said, her tone cold. “You’ve caused a great deal of trouble.”

  “Don’t try and pretend you had no idea,” he finally said, his voice bitter and accusatory. “She’s of my House. What she carries belongs to me.”

  “Come in, Marcus, we can talk. Let’s be civilized, shall we?”

  He growled. “The rope?”

  “Ah.” Nareen considered it. “Will you behave?”

  His mouth twisted. “Possibly. I’m somewhat under the influence, as you well know.”

  “Hmm.” The Queen narrowed her eyes, then nodded to Fianna, and the rope dropped.

  Marcus shook himself like a dog. “Very well,” he said in an irritated voice, and pushed past Fianna to the porch. “What are we standing here for?”

  Nareen continued to wait at the open doorway like a congenial, queenly hostess, greeting each who passed with comments in lilting Drackish. Guin and Orla seemed nearly as awestruck as Abbie.

  Abbie was last and she hung back in sudden trepidation. Maybe she didn’t deserve the warm, queenly hello. Maybe she was in the doghouse along with Marcus. Wasn’t the whole mess her fault? She remembered Nareen had repaired the cabin with magic the last time it blew up, which was definitely her fault.

  Abbie dragged her feet up the steps with her eyes downcast, unable to meet Nareen’s gaze. Her voice shook. “Hello, you probably know I’m Abbie. The one who…you know, caused some trouble here for everyone and I’m really sorry. I honestly tried, I didn’t mean to…” Abbie couldn’t stop babbling until a warm, firm hand landed on her shoulder.

  Nareen tilted Abbie’s chin up so she had to meet her eyes. “Stop,” Nareen said, her tone understanding, yet firm. Her gaze turned to one of assessment, and she looked Abbie up and down as if in inventory while Abbie squirmed. “Yes,” she murmured. “You are indeed…a rare one. Perhaps there is more to what Marcus…” She trailed off, and patted Abbie’s cheek. “Stop worrying,” she said, and pointed the way to the living room.

  Abbie joined the others in a daze and grabbed for the standard sweat pants and cotton shirt from a pile on the couch. She’d completely forgotten they were all naked. She wasn’t even cold. Must be getting used to being a dragon, she thought. “One can only hope,” her sister-self said in a dry tone. “Ha-ha,” said Abbie, then became completely distracted by the delicious smell coming from the stove.

  Everyone else was, too. “Do I smell soup?” Fianna asked in an incredulous tone.

  Nareen smiled serenely as if she did this every day. “Help yourself,” she said.

  The Queen of the Draca made them soup? In the immaculate stainless steel and granite countertop kitchen, not a single thing was out of place. Two pots sat simmering on the stove, with five bowls and five spoons stacked neatly on the table alongside two loaves of crusty French bread and a large dish of butter.

  “Food!” said Orla.

  “Yes!” said Guin. Abbie had only eaten French fries in the past twenty-four hours. They piled around the table. Even Marcus trailed along.

  “The small pot is vegan,” said Nareen. “The other has chicken in it.”

  Abbie couldn’t believe it. The Queen made her vegan soup. She looked to Nareen, shining and gorgeous, and fought back tears as she said, “Thank you so much, Nareen, for the soup. It smells delicious.”

  Nareen’s face softened. “You’re welcome,” she said. “Now eat.”

  Abbie filled up a bowl, tore off a huge piece of bread and followed Fianna to the sofa in the living room. Surrounded by her new magical family, sitting next to Fianna, the woman she loved, and eating soup made especially for her by the Queen, she felt more cared for and treasured than she’d ever felt in her entire life. She sniffed back tears as she dug into the fantastic tasting soup.

  a

  Abbie looked so blindsided, Fianna choked back a laugh. She understood very well Nareen’s intoxicating effect. Plus…Nareen cooked? Fianna doubted there wasn’t more than a hint of magic involved, but who cared? Fianna couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten, and attacked her bowl ravenously, then went back for more. She noticed the pot refilled itself. Nice touch. She’d have to ask Nareen about that particular spell.

  After they finished eating, Fianna slung an arm around Abbie’s shoulders and tugged her close. Abbie nestled into her side as if she belonged there. She kissed the tangled curls on top of Abbie’s head and ached to do so much more. Something had happened between them in that wild flight up the Gorge, and Fianna longed to get Abbie alone. They had only been able to exchange smoldering glances since they’d landed in the meadow. Abbie had been wondrous up there in the storm-laden skies. How she’d gotten out of the cage and managed to join them was a burning question that would have to wait.

  She yanked her attention back to the Queen, still warmed by Nareen’s encouragement. “Stay the course, no matter what,” Nareen whispered. “This looks like a disaster but it doesn’t need to be. You are nearly there, Fianna. Have no doubt.”

  Nareen startled everyone by dragging a stool over from the kitchen and perching on it, which made her the tallest person in the room. Marcus had enthroned himself in the sole wingback padded chair next to the fireplace, then sunk into a sullen, brooding silence. He finished off two bowls of soup without a word or glance to anyone.

  Fianna glanced at the front door. Guin and Orla had taken up sentry duty there, even though exhaustion lined their faces. Marcus was not escaping, no matter how tired they were. The excitement over capturing him and the flight up the Gorge was fading, replaced by worry over the publicity fallout tomorrow and what would happen next. Fianna knew the lack of sleep and relentless tension was taking a toll on everyone.

  She was relieved to see the broken furniture and damaged walls were repaired, leaving remnants of deep magic wafting in the cabin, which luckily affected the Draca like a reviving tonic. Yet Fianna’s mission was not over. She’d only solved a piece of it, and even then, not entirely. Abbie wasn’t in Dracan yet, was she?

  The Fire Agate glowed in a dull, muted way and the dracophone sat dark and silent on the table beside it. An odd silence set in as everyone waited for Nareen to speak. She regarded Marcus with a cool, inscrutable look. Should Fianna try to explain anything? She realized she’d forgotten her thanks. She cleared her throat.

  “Our deepest gratitude, My Queen, for once again repairing the cabin.”

  “Hmm,” Nareen said, with a nod of acknowledgement. “Quite a mess you made, Marcus.”

  He didn’t respond and looked even more belligerent.

  Nareen sighed. “A few questions, and then I’ll let you all take a well-deserved rest.” She pointed to the dracophone. “Trying to steal the phone, Marcus?” she asked, her voice curiously gentle.

  “Perhaps not the best idea,” he said in a bitter tone.

  “Attacking Orla?”

  A confused look crossed his face, his eyes went blank. “I attacked Orla?”

  Orla made a surprised noise from where she stood by the door. “You don’t remember our fight all over the house? Crashing through the bedroom wall?”

  Marcus shrugged. “No.” He looked rather pleased with himself. “It appears you survived,” he noted. Orla made a rude gesture and Marcus barked out a laugh.

  Nareen’s foot tapped impatiently on the rung of the stool. “Your crimes began when you broke past my protection spells, accessed the sacred grimoire, and stole the Transformation spell.”

  This, he remembered. Marcus’s face brightened in a sly grin. “Indeed. I believe I won the grand prize with that one.” He smacked his hand on the chair and looked quite smug. “I bet you’re still trying to puzzle it out.”

  For a second, Fianna caught a glimpse of Marcus in his prime, the skillful, ever-wily king of tricks. No one could ever catch him in the act and he was impossible
to fool. It’s partly how he’d built his power base—attracting, then bedding, others of like passions and creating a significant bloodline from scratch, full of wily, narcissistic, and power-hungry dragons, just like him. The term “ill-gotten goods” had multiple layers of meaning on Dracan, not all of them bad.

  Nareen wasn’t done ticking off his sins. “And, worst of all, you let your true nature be known to the humans. Where is your aged wisdom, Council Leader? Was your quest so vital as to endanger us all? Dracfire or not, how could you break our most sacred law, one you agreed to and lived by for so many generations?” she continued, implacable against Marcus’s rebellious silence. “There must be a reckoning with the full Council, you understand that.”

  Marcus growled and claws erupted on his fingers. “You have no idea what I was on the edge of accomplishing,” he said, defiant as he rose to his feet.

  Nareen thrust her hands up and threw a calming spell, which hit Marcus square in the chest and dropped him, open-mouthed, back to the chair.

  “And you will tell me, Marcus, everything, in due time. For now, you have no further Council powers or authority of any kind.”

  Marcus wilted, staring in dazed shock. He rubbed his chest and remained quiet, his lips pressed tightly together. Fianna hoped Nareen told all of them what was going on with Marcus. Dracfire didn’t explain everything, and the fact that it involved Abbie made her near crazy with suspicion.

  “We’re missing someone.” Nareen broke into Fianna’s musings. “The human woman. What is her name?”

  “Miriam,” Abbie volunteered. “The cage was in her house. She made a deal with Marcus to hold me,” she added in a bitter tone, “in that terrible magic cage.”

  Marcus’s lips thinned, but he said nothing. Comprehension filtered in and out of his expression.

  Nareen’s face darkened and she nodded. “Exactly as I suspected, with Blackwood in the mix. There’s no other purpose for such iron. What happened?” She glanced around the room in a royal command and silence fell as the sisters-Draca joined with Nareen in a belated telepathic huddle and exchanged their information in seconds. Their circle kept out the brother dragon of Marcus, who didn’t want any part of them, anyway.

  “Ah, the aggravating old fool of a dragon.” Nareen took in a deep breath and ignored Marcus when he stomped his foot at her words.

  Fianna nodded, sick at the thought of Abbie’s distress. There was a lot to explain to Nareen.

  Nareen turned to Guin. “Guin, I know you are tired, but I need you to deal with this Miriam woman. Bring her here to the cabin. And, just as important, bring me the video of Abbie shifting in that Portland park.”

  “You mean now?” Guin startled to attention.

  “Yes.”

  “What if she doesn’t want to come?”

  “I have full confidence in your powers of persuasion, Guin.”

  “Please don’t tell me I have to drive.”

  “No. At least, not from here to Portland. Give me your hand.” Nareen clasped Guin’s hand, closed her eyes, and uttered familiar spell phrases.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Guin asked. She got to her feet and stretched.

  Nareen smiled and made a shooing motion. “Go.” Fianna and Orla wrapped Guin in a tight hug. “Be safe,”

  Fianna said. “Miriam probably has a fancy car, take hers.”

  Nareen was right. The sooner they had control of the human woman, the better. Poor Guin had to drive back, but at least she had an invisibility spell to aid her flight west. What would happen to Miriam, Fianna had no idea. That was up to Nareen and the Council, not her, and thank the goddess for small favors.

  Guin grabbed an apple from the bowl on the dresser and took a ferocious bite as she exited. “Be back soon,” she called out. “Kisses!”

  Nareen addressed the tired group. “Everything will be reviewed by the Council back on Dracan. But that time is not now. The sun is rising and no one has slept all night. I am sending the lot of you to bed. Marcus, with me,” Nareen ordered.

  He didn’t move.

  “Get up,” she said.

  He ignored her.

  “Do I need the rope?” she asked.

  “How else do you intend to keep me here? Chains?”

  “You wouldn’t think about leaving, would you?”

  Muttering protests, he followed her up the stairs, the rope trailing from Nareen’s hand. The master bedroom door clicked shut behind them.

  Orla yawned. “Time for bed is right. It’s been quite the day. And night. And there’s probably a shitstorm to face tomorrow. I mean, today. Gods, I’m tired.” She leaned down to give Fianna and Abbie a kiss. “I’ll take the bedroom upstairs, you two can have the one down here, ’kay?” With that pronouncement, she shuffled off.

  Fianna gazed at Abbie’s tired, dirt streaked face, the too-big sweats hanging from her lanky, slender frame, and thought she’d never seen anything so beautiful. They fell into each other’s arms and held on tight, wordless in the light of what they’d just been through together. So much had happened, so fast. And something big had changed between them in that flight across the Gorge, something that softened Abbie’s eyes when she looked at her, and made Fianna’s blood beat in an irresistible mating rhythm.

  Fianna couldn’t think anymore. She could only feel. She inhaled Abbie’s scent of sweet smoke and rain, and bent for her lips in a deep, hungry kiss. The sense of tiredness vanished and the rest of the world dropped away. “How are you doing, little dracling?” she murmured against her cheek.

  “Exhausted. Mind blown.” Abbie moved her lips to Fianna’s and they kissed again for a few minutes, sweet, delicious kisses that heated the chemistry between them like a match. “And happy,” she added shyly.

  “Despite being caged by a mad old dragon?”

  “Oh, but look how I was rescued,” Abbie said. “What more could a girl ask for? Three totally badass women dragons charging in to save the day.”

  Fianna grinned. “Badass, eh?”

  “Quite.” Abbie grinned back, the new sweetness in tone making Fianna’s heart, and everything else, pulse in desire.

  “I want you so badly,” Fianna whispered. “Ready to go to bed?”

  “As long as it’s with you,” Abbie said, her eyes hot.

  Fianna stood, pulled Abbie to her feet, then reached under Abbie’s knees and swept her up in her arms. Abbie squealed and clutched Fianna’s shoulder. “Ooh, so strong. I love all your muscles,” she said, grinning. She squeezed Fianna’s biceps. “Yum. Am I gonna get buff like that, too?”

  Abbie was adorable. Orla had always said so, and she was right. Fianna walked down the hall to the bedroom and carefully dropped Abbie to the mattress, then slid on top of her. “Yes, but you’ll need to do a lot of flying to get there. No worries, dracling, you’ve got me to teach you everything.” Fianna licked Abbie’s neck in a slow, delicious slide of her tongue. She pulled up the black shirt and lowered her mouth to Abbie’s rosy-tipped breasts. Abbie ran her fingers through Fianna’s hair.

  “And…oh…such soft lips,” Abbie whispered.

  “Mmm…” Fianna drew the taut, little nipple into her mouth and began sucking until Abbie thrashed around with little moans. She slid her mouth to the other nipple, loving Abbie’s sighs of pleasure.

  Abbie tugged on Fianna’s shirt. “Off.”

  Their remaining clothes were tossed and Fianna returned to straddling Abbie’s hips. She ran her palms over the soft skin of Abbie’s ribs, across the sweet belly, into the dip at the waist, and dark curls between her slender thighs. Abbie was thin, yet wiry strong, and the energy of her dragon nature hummed in her blood in a unique, irresistible combination. Fianna’s sister-self purred with contentment. She adored the feisty, moody sister-dragon.

  Strands of Abbie’s hair stuck straight up, like a dark, jagged crown, and her wide brown eyes gleamed with emotion. There were so many things Fianna wanted to tell her…do to her…

  “Wait a minute. How did you get out of
the cage?” Fianna cursed herself for stopping but couldn’t help the question. She’d been dying to know how Abbie had pulled it off.

  “Oh, well, um…”

  Abbie looked so guilty, Fianna couldn’t help a grin. “What happened, Abbie?” This should be good.

  Abbie held up her left hand. “Did you notice your ring had gone missing?”

  “Yes, I noticed.” She laughed. “Did you think I wouldn’t?” She lifted the hand with the ring to her lips, saying in a sultry tone, “I’ll have to think about how to punish you.”

  “I’m so sorry, Fianna. I wanted to do a dragony trick, like Orla talks about.”

  Fianna shook her head in mock disapproval. “Bad dracling. However, I still can’t figure out how you stole it. The ring was magically woven into my finger by Nareen. It never leaves me, even when I’m shifting.”

  “Oh, that’s weird,” Abbie said. “I wondered why it was still on my finger after I shifted. Anyway, I didn’t do anything special, just the moves I always used in Las Vegas. I should give it back.” Abbie tugged at the ring.

  “No, stop. This is shifter-power, Abbie. The ring could never have been stolen without its magical consent. You little thief, the ring let you take it. The magic sensed where it was needed most. As I had hoped.” Fianna kissed the finger with the ring. “It’s yours for now. Maybe it will come back to me one of these days.”

  Abbie’s face filled with wonder. “You must be right. The ring is what got me out. I accidentally used the ring to get the cage door open.” Abbie described her anger when Miriam deserted her and how she banged her hand into the magic metal. “I couldn’t believe it was so easy. I tried to use the ring before, when we were trying to chop the green rope off. I guess I just didn’t know how to do it.”

  “We?”

  “Yeah, me and Miriam.” She stopped with a guilty look. “Um, I have some things to tell you about her.”