CHAPTER 57
Blythe~
“Be careful,” he shouted at her.
Careful! First he’d rescued her, and then he’d dumped her back in the ice-cold ocean. She’d give him careful. The agony of bones being remade abruptly gripped her and sucked her under. She got a mouthful of cold salt water when she tried to breathe fire again. Luckily, she seemed to be buoyant, for she bobbed to the surface.
“Watch your tail. It’s venomous.”
Good to know. She tried swinging it on purpose. It skidded across the water and struck the stern of the boat hard enough to leave a scratch. Her wings floundered in the waves, not really acting like paddles, and not feeling strong enough to raise her out of this freezing brine she was steeping in.
This time when every muscle spasmed in response to her changing skeleton, she wasn’t surprised when the ocean dragged her down. Caught between muscles clenched tight against pain and bones that weren’t where they were supposed to be, she drew water into her nostrils which weren’t where she expected them to be either.
She gurgled, coughed and blew steam into the waves. The steam frothed the water, as if it were a milkshake being frothed by a child blowing through a straw instead of drinking. Her head was throbbing, especially over her eyes. But she dunked her muzzle and made more bubbles. The water warmed slightly. So she did it again. It was fun.
Was her shift over? Neil was still standing on the stern yelling, so she guessed not. On impulse she flipped onto her back, water sloshed everywhere. A wave rocked Neil from his perch on the stern. His arms windmilled and he disappeared. She listened for a splash but all she heard was a whoosh. All she felt was a breeze.
Clumsy perhaps, but she had gotten the job done. And at least he had shut up. After all, a certain amount of ungainliness was to be expected. She hadn’t been the most coordinated rabbit in the burrow at first change, but she had improved. And floating on her back seemed to be easy. She waved her wings one at a time, revolving first in one direction and then in the other.
The sky really was glorious. A blue so bright that the gulls sparkled like diamonds. The air was so clear she could make out the red rims around their black eyes and the red dots on their bills. Their pink legs were vivid against their dazzling white bellies. As they swooped low in search of fish, their raucous cries rang loudly.
Well, of course. She could see more colors, everything was in better focus, and gulls were even noisier than she had previously believed. And their calls had more variation and range. Her brain hurt from the sensory overload, and yet she couldn’t stop absorbing it all. And then without warning she flipped back to her regular senses. The world dimmed and hushed.
In a couple of seconds her dragon senses were back on steroids and the world was a flashing wonderland. Cool. She tried her fire again. A long stream of radiant flames emerged, all the usual incandescent reds and golds were burnished with a paranormal palette that flashed and twinkled in colors that had no name.
Agitated bugling broke her absorption. Neil circled overhead, below the luminescent gulls, calling frantically to her. She was tempted to greet him with another blast of fire. He deserved it for transforming her without consent. Surely she had not given permission? She’d teach him to overrule her.
Emotions roiled within her. Pleasure in her new senses warred with a queen-sized sense of grievance. How dared he transform her? This heady sense of self-righteous indignation struck a chord in memory. Her new morph was affecting her emotional balance. Overriding her common sense and logic. She was freaking out on an adolescent-dragonling high.
Out of control like a drunk teenager. Charming. Not.
Neil’s bugling was replaced by a series of trills, almost whistling. Her heart calmed. Her pulse settled. She had not realized how fast it was racing. Or how the pain and fury of her first dragon shift had sent her into an overwrought emotional tailspin. She forced herself to breathe deep and slow to distance herself from the throbbing in her limbs and skull. Breathing fire was not the answer.
Her mate was still looping above her. The glittering silver of his broad wings was mottled with even more dazzling paranormal colors. Her new vision could barely focus on his magnificence. But she could make out his heavy armored underbelly with its icy blue scales and the mirrorlike gleam of his long curving horn and diamond-tipped tail dart.
To her horror his huge muscular body thrilled her to her soul. She wanted to mate with that magnificent flying hunk of dangerous predator. To be clasped in those stalwart limbs and to be penetrated by the huge cock dangling between his rear legs. The double-headed cock. She had heard a lot of rumors about dragons, but no one had ever said they had forked dicks.
Her horror and dismay didn’t last. Even that long waggling penis made the blood pound in her veins. She made no protest when he dove low and his glittering talons grasped her torso and lifted her out of the sea. But he had not lifted her to mate. His wings strained to mount higher. The downdraft from those giant wings gusted against her sensitized body and face.
The yacht got smaller. He let go, adding a little spin as he released her. She rolled belly down, instinctively she spread her wings. The breeze made them expand and lifted her above the waves. She was flying. She closed her eyes against the expectation of vertigo. But Neil’s whistling made her open them.
She tried flapping. She rose. She tipped left and right. Something wasn’t right. Neil darted around her, thrashing his long tail like a bullwhip. His motion grew erratic. He controlled the lashing movement and his flight stabilized. Her tail was a rudder. Of course.
Flailing it was easier than delicately manipulating it. Her first few attempts nearly landed her back in the icy drink. But suddenly she was banking left and right and angling her wings to catch the wind. Effortlessly she rose on the thermals generated by the sun on the water.
Neil danced with her in the air. Nowhere near long enough. His whistling sounded ever more like a mating call. Like a love song. But he made no move to touch her. Just as well, there was no way she could remain airborne while they attempted to fuck up here. He circled her one last time then lightly touched down beside the yacht.
He paddled beside the rear ladder. Waiting for her. Her landing was nothing like as graceful as his, more of a belly flop than a two-point landing like his. And she wound up yards from the stern. She swam slowly toward him, conscious of a deep fatigue to go with the ache in her bones. And she had the return to woman to look forward to.
Neil let her change first, making small encouraging noises, rather like an anxious papa bird. She endured the agony of becoming mortal once more. Instantly the frigid wind off the Pacific froze her limbs. He nudged her up the ladder. The sun felt glorious on her cold wet body. And then he was there, beside her.
“Let’s go.” He swept her into his arms. “They’ll be here in ten minutes.”
A motorboat engine roared in the distance.
CHAPTER 58
Neil~
He felt triumphant as he carried Blythe below decks, savoring the flush of arousal on his mate’s face and neck. His hands tightened involuntarily. He locked eyes with her fierce ones. Oh-oh. “You still mad, sweetheart?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m sorry if you feel I transformed you without permission,” he said stiffly, “but it’s not as if I did it deliberately.”
“If you want me to believe in your apology, you should stop grinning. You look too smug to be penitent.”
He tried to explain. “I am truly sorry you feel I’ve betrayed your trust. But I just enjoyed my nuptial flight with my mate, who just so happens to be the loveliest dragoness-made since the creation of the world. I’d have to be made of stone not to be ecstatic.”
“Loveliest dragoness-made ever?” Her voice was skeptical. “Is that why you were dangling your double dong for me?”
His face heated. “I expect so. It’s typically an internal organ.” He’d certainly never seen any of his family flying with his joystick extended.
>
“Ah. Does that mean I’ve got a forked vagina? Inquiring minds want to know.” Her eyes sparkled wickedly. She thought she had him on the run.
“If you really need to know, it would be my pleasure to check out your dragon pussy. Purely in the pursuit of science.”
“Are you inviting me to aerial hijinks?” Her lips curved in a gotcha smile.
He went with his sternest expression. “Don’t know how you rabbits behave, Blythe Warren, but dragons consider it the height of uncivilized conduct to screw while in animal morph. Besides in the air would probably be impossible. We just weigh too much.” Although the thought made his eyes cross.
“I wouldn’t dream of enticing you into misconduct unbecoming a dragon and an officer.”
“If you’re feeling like a walk on the wild side, now that you’ve got the hang of swimming, I could make an exception. Maybe in the water?” He carried her into the head and turned on the shower.
Unfortunately, there was only room for one in the narrow stall. The yacht was luxury itself, but it was still a ship. Space was limited. He put her inside and shut the glass door.
Before he could make a plan to remove Blythe’s residual resentment, brisk footsteps outside their cabin door were followed by energetic knocking. First time any of the hawks had disturbed them. Had to be important. He yanked the door open.
The youngster in the doorway was excited. “The Dragonfly is here, sir. Captain’s compliments. You and Ms. Warren are to go aboard,” he hesitated, “immediately,” his voice trailed off.
“You sure that the captain didn’t say ‘On the double,’ son?”
The boy gulped. “I believe he may have said something to the effect of ‘tell them to get the lead out,’ sir.”
“Accuracy is important, son. Tell him to give us five minutes.”
Amber eyes rounded. “Yes, sir. Five minutes, sir.” The hawk handed Neil a small rolling suitcase. “This is for Ms. Warren.” He pelted up the companionway.
CHAPTER 59
Blythe~
It was great to have her own clothes. But she had to bear in mind that Duncan Drake hadn’t delivered them out of the kindness of his heart. He was still trying to run the show and by extension her life. And Neil’s. But she dressed quickly and let Neil lead her topside to transfer to the Dragonfly.
She had seen Mr. Drake’s seventy-five-footer before. And she had grown up in Mystic Bay where luxury yachts were a dime a dozen. But she hadn’t actually ever been aboard one. The Dragonfly made the Olander vessel appear a trifle lacking in the finer amenities. A girl could get used to the kind of sumptuousness that expressed itself in glossy woodwork, modern design, and luxurious fittings.
Duncan greeted them himself, stooping to kiss her cheek and giving her a head-to-toe inspection before nodding in approval. She didn’t think he was checking out her outfit, and his words confirmed that. “I’m glad to see you and Neil have found time for the most important matters. I’m looking forward to holding my great-great-grandchild.”
Really, he was a most mortifying old person. Belatedly it occurred to her that she was embarrassed and irritated by his reference to her transformation and possible pregnancy, but not terrified. Oh, wow. She and Neil were going to have a baby.
This newfound mettle was a most welcome byproduct of becoming a dragoness. Neil deserved a bold mate. Not that Great-Grandfather wasn’t provoking and highhanded. Well, she was now a mighty predator in her own right. She could stand up to him.
They were no sooner aboard than Duncan signaled to Jake Brown, who was at the wheel, and they sailed away from the Olander cabin cruiser. Without so much as asking what they wanted. Or giving them time to say goodbye. Neil squeezed her hand in what she interpreted as a signal to remain silent.
They settled below decks in the luxurious sitting room. Through the portholes they could see that the sky had clouded over and turned the sea gray. Mr. Drake ensconced himself in a massive leather recliner that put her in mind of a throne. Not because it was gilded, or over the top, but because it was twice as large as the other armchairs.
“Are we going home?” she blurted despite Neil’s warning.
“All in good time, my dear. We have another errand first.”
“Because I need to get to a phone. My folks are bound to be frantic.”
“Your parents have returned from their vacation, my dear. And while they are undoubtedly concerned about your, ah, adventures, they have been persuaded that planning your wedding is a better use of their time than chasing over the Pacific in search of you.” Duncan offered a smile to go with his breathtaking officiousness.
“Besides the sheriff conscripted your father to help guard the merchants of Garnet Lane.” Garnet was the commercial street where most of Mystic Bay’s geotalents worked.
“Our wedding?” she yelped.
“Indeed. Sonia is conferring with Neil’s mother and grandmother. We thought a truly lavish celebration would be the best way to satisfy both our clans.”
She gave up. This dude had no boundaries. Beside her, Neil was shaking with suppressed laughter. She went with sarcasm. “Haven’t you picked out our honeymoon yet, sir?”
“I thought as the ladies were discussing a floating reception, you might like to take the Sanderling on a voyage after the party.” The Sanderling was his other yacht. The hundred-and-fifty-footer. He was utterly incorrigible.
She foresaw a lifetime of pushing back or getting trampled. But Neil was squeezing her fingers hard and still trying not to laugh. Maybe it was too soon to make waves. She subsided. For the moment.
“Sounds great, sir,” Neil said with admirable voice control. “But we were wondering why you showed up to fetch us yourself.”
A benign smile spread across that devious old face. “I’ve brought you news.”
“Of Dom?” she asked.
“Among other things. In light of recent events, we thought you were entitled to a few answers.”
Who was we? Time to shut up and listen. There was some subtle undercurrent here between Neil and Duncan that she didn’t quite grasp.
“For the last several months,” Duncan went on, “the Pacific Northwest has been troubled by a steady and persistent trickle of paranormal weaponry. This isn’t the first time that psi-criminals have created psi-weaponry, but it is the first time that SPAR has faced such large-scale organized manufacture and distribution of paranormal arms. And it is the first time that our containment efforts have failed.”
“Failed?” Neil murmured.
“In so far as this group is still out there, albeit operating in the shadows. The incidents of the last week did bring us closer to Vector than ever before, but we are still grasping at smoke and mirrors.”
“Vector, sir?” Neil prompted.
“SPAR’s code name for this psi-mob.”
“But isn’t Dom the head of this Vector mob?” Blythe exclaimed. “I thought Rory Packard was in hot pursuit of him? Surely if you get the boss, you can shut Vector down?”
An aristocratic hand waggled back and forth. “Maybe, maybe not. Packard tracked Dom to a warehouse in Seattle which we have placed under observation.” A thin smile. “We hope when he emerges that he will lead us to more of his accomplices.”
“What about Jinx?” she asked. “Where does she fit in?”
“A sinister young woman, and not without a flair for criminal enterprise. She has, I believe the expression is, lawyered up. Fortunately, Merritt was able to use her phone and a flash drive he found on her person to locate some incriminating evidence. It looks like she and her partner, the evocatively named Desirée Sweet, ripped off Vector. Sweet seems to have been their tuner. The weak spot in Vector’s supply chain is that they require a glass tuner to tune their hot-glass crystals to the end users’ auras.”
Enlightenment struck Blythe. “That’s why they wanted Molly!”
“Possibly. Probably. It seems that one of this Sweet woman’s customers was the psychic conman you knew as Hyland Ferris. He
bought at least two crystals, and when one burned out, or lost its tuning, he asked Molly Needles to retune it. She pretended she was unable to, but offered to find him a glass talent who was powerful enough. That seems to have been the event that led to your unhappy adventure, my dear.”
Neil leaned forward. “Dom kept asking for his property back from Blythe. He seemed to believe that crystal was important.”
Duncan shook his head. “There are so many layers of lies and deception here that sorting out the truth is difficult. We believe that while Dallas Sheppard was instructed by Jinx and Dom to retrieve the crystal his brother had given to Molly, the real object was to snatch her. Jinx and Dom hoped Blythe would lead them to Molly.”
“But I didn’t know where SPAR had stashed her. She is okay, isn’t she?”
“Indeed. She has been much safer than you throughout this affair. But to return to the late Madame Sweet. Merritt located Jinx’s storage unit which contained her backup plans. Digital and physical evidence that implicates both her and Dom and has also revealed his true name. Or what she believed to be his true name. I’m afraid he deceived her as much as she deceived him.”
“So Jinx betrayed both Dom and Desirée Sweet?” Blythe asked.
“Of course,” Neil said impatiently.
Blythe scrambled to catch up. But the wheels within wheels were just an incoherent jumble.
Duncan smiled thinly. “To cut a long tale short, it turns out that Sweet stole a large quantity of untuned crystals from her supplier. A Vector associate. This double-cross got her killed. The villains however couldn’t find her cache once she was dead. Or so Jinx led them to believe. In fact, she had relieved her partner of her stolen goods and concealed them in her storage locker. Merritt was able to recover them.”
“So it really is all over.” Blythe felt the tension leave her body.
CHAPTER 60
Neil~
He and Great-Grandfather exchanged glances over the head of his poor deluded mate. “I wish that were true, Blythe,” he told her gravely. “But Vector has obviously got a manufacturing plant, and several lines of products. They’re still very much in business.”
Dragon Intrigues Page 19
