Dragons

Shaking her head at the fanciful turn her thoughts had taken, she moved away from the dragon prints and off to the stand of trees. The first tree was too tall. The second was too lopsided. The third reminded her of her fourth grade teacher. The fourth tree was just right. Six feet tall with a big bushy base. She started hacking at the base and it shook snow on her with every stroke. When it dumped down the back of her shirt, she squealed and jumped back. Dropping her axe, she shook it out as best she could with her parka in the way.

"What is it? What is wrong?" The deep baritone hummed out of the darkness.

Maggie shrieked and looked down for the axe. It was deep in the snow and she couldn't get it out in a hurry. "Who is there?"

"Syrus. We met this morning." He came out of the shadows to meet her wide-eyed gaze with his own.

"You are dressed. I distinctly remember you being naked." She was stupefied. His dark shirt and pants looked centuries out of date and yet perfectly suited him. His hair blended with the fabric and framed his face. She was going to say more when the tree she was working on shifted alarmingly. She squeaked in surprise when he swept her into his arms and away from the falling pine.

"Why are you chopping a tree in the dark? It is most unwise."

"I started when it was light. I would have been done if you hadn't surprised me." She was a little defensive and mildly irritated that the thickness of her clothing kept all contact with his body in her imagination. Damn it.

"You are very light," he said it almost absently as he shifted her to one arm and grabbed the tree with the other. "Where did you want this tree?"

"Ideally, in my house in one piece. It's my Christmas tree. Tomorrow, I decorate it and put the presents my friends gave me under it."

He began striding to her cabin, her cradled with one arm and the tree with the other.

"My axe, the toboggan…"

"I will retrieve them later. A holiday tradition isn't something to die over and you cannot see in the dark like I can." Irritation coated his tone and he stopped at her door.

She could opened it for them. Inside, he slid her down his body, the puff of her coat seemed to frustrate him so he removed it. Maggie shucked her gloves and touched his skin for the first time. She cupped his jaw line and stroked his flesh, amazed at the smoothness of his skin. No five o'clock shadow or trace of a beard dared to interrupt the texture of his skin.

She traced the outline of his wide mouth with her fingertips and his tongue flicked out to touch her, taste her. Evidently he liked what he tasted because he sucked her fingertip into his mouth and twisted his dexterous tongue around it. He stroked her digit for a moment and then released her.

"I see you are less frightened of me this evening."

"I have decided that if I have gone insane I am going to enjoy it."

"Well, far be it from me to deny you your hallucination."

Apparently, for an imaginary dragon, that constituted foreplay because he lifted her up and wrapped her limbs around his waist, then walked her to her bedroom with his erection rubbing against her clit through her jeans.

His mating frenzy took on a new intensity. He had deliberately chosen to take her facing away from him so he could change his form to one which could impregnate her. With her lost to the rising pulse of her passion, he changed into his warrior form. Large wings sprouted from his back, a tail took shape at the base of his spine, and his cock began to grow in size as he increased his height by two feet.

Marcus threw his head back, the muscles in his powerful neck straining as he fought for control. Her climax had been sudden and he had nearly followed her into release. But that was not his intention. As her walls relaxed their grip on his member, he began to thrust again. Harder and faster than any human could possible bear. His hips bucked back and forth, blurring at the speed at which he moved. When he couldn’t hold off any longer, he bent forward until his body covered her body entirely, and his head was in the crook of her neck.

He breathed deeply of her scent, and with a roar and a feral lunge he buried his fangs into the hollow where neck and shoulder met. At the surprising bite, she arched up and screamed again, her body bucking and shuddering in response to the pain and venom of his bite. He maintained his grip on her neck and began the final thrusts that would finish his pleasure. He began to groan as his orgasm over took him.

When he began to empty his seed into her, a small venom sack in his mouth released a liquid into her bloodstream. He could feel the toxin release from his mouth, and kept his hold her neck as it began its work on her body. She went limp beneath him and he followed her to the ground, still linked at both mouth and member. After a few minutes he withdrew both fangs and cock. He removed himself to a few feet away, and resumed his human seaming.

Marcus made a small fire, and watched Lia carefully. He had turned her over and laid her on a blanket, gently cleansing away the blood on her neck and the seed between her thighs as she lay in the grip of the venom.

Hours passed and finally a tracery of blue was beginning to show around her neck. He watched her for any signs of consciousness, and when she began to stir, he lifted her into his lap and held her close.

She waded into the icy water until she was hip deep and turned to look back at the campsite. D'hai had a cheery fire going with some kind of meat nearby on a spit. The man himself was staring at her as if he had never seen a nude Terran wading in ice water before. Making eye contact with him, her nipples hardened to pebbles while her breasts grew full and heavy. Embarrassed at her body's reaction, she simply let herself fall backward until her body was encased in ice.

That cooled her libido as nothing else would have. It would have continued to if the water hadn't suddenly warmed and begun to caress her flesh in places even her fingers had problems going. She stood up, only to find that she had floated out beyond her reach and she treaded water.

D'hai stood nude at the edge of the water, the dragon on his chest writhing with power. The other dragon in question was not looking at her, but it held her attention as nothing else could. As he walked toward her, she merely waved her limbs idly in the now-hot water as he grew closer and closer.

Floating was out of the question—she wouldn't be able to watch him. When he ducked under the water and it began to foam and bubble, she became concerned. When a tail flicked between her thighs and rubbed her in a manner no fish would dare to, she knew that D'hai was using something else to drive her to him.

Nothing prepared her for the head with glowing silver eyes breaking the water beside her. The dragon in the water might have had her panicking if not for the voice in her head.

Ask me for the Hospitality of my body. There is no sense torturing both of us and it defies the laws of guests for me to seduce you. Well, seduce you in my human form—there are no rules against this one.

"That is fascinating." So was the stroking between her thighs being executed by his tail. "So, you thought if you shifted forms, you could get me to ask you for Hospitality?"

Yes. I thought this form would make it easier for you.

He was sliding his form around her naked limbs, supporting and stroking at the same time. Her body suddenly felt warmer than the water around her. When he stopped moving against her, he watched her closely, his silver eyes having translated the shift. It was definitely D'hai and now she could see why he was one of the Elite.

Shapeshifters were not common in space, but they did occur. Usually not into something that Myka would recognize though. She had heard of the dragons of Drai, but most of that race could no longer shift. Something in this world had kept their abilities firing. The embrace she was in was living proof.

"It makes it easier to scream and run like hell. You could have warned me."

He was supporting her in the water, so she reached up to stroke his head. She estimated him to be about twenty feet of undulating muscle with claws and fangs as large as her fingers.

You do not find this form appealing? There was laughter in his voice as he ran the coils of his body over her.

"I find your regular form very appealing, this one is just disturbing. Fun. But disturbing."

As I find your pale shape pleasing. It surprised me when you shed your clothing to bathe.

"Bathing is important to me. Unfortunately, the first time we met, I made a bad impression."

He snorted, vapour jets appearing from his nostrils. You were starved and beaten. Do not think I cannot still see the bruises on you. Your condition was forgivable.

"Thank you. Your generosity knows no bounds." She inclined her head formally an instant before he raised his head and shot a flame into the sky. If he ever laughed really hard, the local flora might be in danger.

I am still awaiting your answer. Will it be easier to ask me for Hospitality in this form?

"I think it might be a little weird. It will have to be something asked of your other shape."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, he began to shift. Floating naked in a warm pond with a man whose body she craved was out of her realm of experience. However, when in Rome…

"Elite D'hai, I would like to request the Hospitality of your body."

She treaded water just out of his reach. As her words flowed over him, he tilted his head back, exposing the strong column of his throat. He shuddered, a sharp glow pulsed from his tattoo to cover his body. When he reopened his eyes, they were glowing as well.

"Thank you. I am not the most patient of men and knowing you wanted me but would not ask was driving me to the edge of my control." He surged forward in the water, letting Myka know for the first time that he could still touch the bottom.

"Since you asked, I formally offer you the Hospitality of my body. Use it as you will."

He was close enough to touch now and with the buoyancy afforded her, she floated over to place her hands on his shoulders.

"If you don't want me, say so now and we can forget I ever spoke."

He said nothing, so she forestalled any other speech with a kiss. The taste of him drove her senses to the edge. The indescribably wonderful scent of him transferred into a taste that was more than she had bargained for. She tried to push away from him, but he held her tightly against him with a gentle but firm touch.

He held her head still and took his own turn learning her flavour. She was shaking with heat by the time he finished. He leaned back, wonder in his eyes.

"What? I haven't changed anything."

"I beg to differ. You do not normally burn with a blue flame." He held her at arm's length and as she looked down her body, she saw what he was seeing, blue flame covering every inch of exposed skin, which meant her whole body.

"Oh, I am sorry."

"Why? I am impervious to flame. It feels rather nice against me, in fact." D'hai drew her close and kissed her again. This time, she knew as the heat in her body flared, it was exterior as well as interior.

His hand began a slow wander down her spine, cupping her buttocks and pulling her against his arousal in a firm but definite way. She moaned into his mouth and rocked against him, using the ridge of his cock to apply pressure to her clit. She was getting hotter, wetter and louder until she came against him, screaming her release to the echoing rocks.

A blue and gold banner emblazoned with a clawing white lion snapped in the wind above the War Duke's head. From the height of the ridge, his golden eyes watched the carnage of the battle that had shifted from the ridge to the valley below. His great black war-horse shuddered under him, excited by the scent of blood and death. The massive stallion pawed the bloodied earth, jingling his bit, his armored sides heaving. The horses of his accompanying troops shied nervously under their armored riders as they stood arrayed about him to either side.

The War Duke's eyes were drawn to the opposite ridge of the blood-drenched valley, where a woman battled ferociously atop a screaming fire-red stallion. Even in her crimson armor with its fanged dragon helmet, there was no mistaking the feminine curves. She lashed out at her attackers with uncanny speed and deadly accuracy.

The War Duke pushed his helmet visor up to get a clearer view of the woman. She looked like a red dragon in female form, the gilded scales of her armor glittering in the dying sunlight, her scarlet cloak flying about her like wings. Her sword flashed with the unmistakable glint of blue steel. The hilt was set with a stone that caught the dying sun's light and blazed crimson. No one could stand against her. Obviously an artist had made that scaled suit of steel for her alone. It hugged her curves and moved as easily as flesh.

The War Duke whistled as he sat atop his restless stallion. "My god, she's magnificent!"

"Where in the seven Hells did the Boar find her?" one of the captains exclaimed.

The War Duke narrowed his eyes. "I can't tell what family she comes from, her shield is too smeared with blood to see what's on it. She has to come from good family, though, I think that's a ruby in her sword. Nothing else would glow that bright in sunlight."

"God in heaven! She just cut that soldier in half!" said another.

"That's not a woman. That's a she-demon conjured from the pits of hell," said a grizzled older captain. "Look at her, she fights with more than the strength of a man."

“Hey, look!” Zane called out, gesturing toward the sky.
 

A dragon, as white as the snow on the mountains, came down to land in front of us. I had never seen one with wings. Then again, my experience with dragons was limited to my knowledge of Aloysius. He was a walking dragon, as he so eloquently put it one day when I asked him why he couldn’t fly.

The breeze increased for a moment, the flap of its wings fanned my skin. I realised the air was tropical, and I could see why we didn’t need clothes. Wearing anything in this heat would have been uncomfortable and I would have stripped down after a while anyway.

“Look at the size of the mother fucker,” Zane said, taking the words out of my mouth.

The dragon coming toward us was indeed huge, all scales and teeth and claws. I’d say it was as big as Aloysius, if not more. I stepped back, taking Callum with me. What the dragon did next surprised me beyond words. It turned into human form.
 

It was a male. His skin a stunning white, just like the dragon had been a few moments ago. Why the purple light didn’t reflect off him I had no idea. But there he was. He was also naked. If I were to put it into human terms, as that is now what he was, I’d say he was handsome in a funny sort of way. He had white hair, deep red eyes and, to top it all off, his skin was smooth and hairless. Not even a tuft of hair sprouted from where his pubes should have been. His muscles flexed as he walked. He was damn fit. Even his cock was a sight to behold, one to rival Zane’s fine equipment. I gasped. The dragon man’s foreskin was unlike Zane’s though. His covered his glans, forming a nice pucker tip, just like Callum’s and my own.
 

When he was closer to us, the dragon man smiled, then said in smooth, yet deep voice, “Welcome to the realm of dragons and the hold of the Clan of the Light. I am Devlyn, flyer for the Mountain Cradle tribe.”
 

If I thought him turning from a dragon into a human was something to make me open my mouth in awe, what he did next was something I shall never forget for the rest of my life.
 

When he was close enough, he kissed my earlobe and at the same time grabbed my cock, shook it twice, then let go it go. He did the same to Callum and Zane. Was this how dragons welcomed each other? Damn. Sure beats a hand shake. Good thing I was naked. I think I would have reacted differently if Devlyn had unzipped my pants and began rummaging around in my underwear just to say hello.

Finally he rose and led me from the country house to a modern, H-shaped building. The center wing was paned with large windows on two sides and only hosted a large, low table made of pale wood. Chairs were not available. Across the garden entrance which we had used one could see a little patch of forest.

“I am highly pleased to meet a so attractive connoisseur of our culture,” he introduced the business part in fluent, almost accent-free English. Connoisseur? My knowledge was patchy at best. But I knew a few significant rituals, and not only those concerning martial arts.

“The pleasure is on my side. I was relieved to find such an admirable opportunity to contemplate after the inconveniences of the last days. For this I have gladly changed my plans for the afternoon.”

Smack. He winced like he was hit and faced me directly.

“You’ve got something that is mine.”

“Then I will gladly give it to you. What is it?” There weren’t many options, but I wouldn’t make it too easy for him.

He reached his hand toward the camera which I still carried over my shoulder, and I willingly handed him the device.

“I am highly pleased to have found the right owner so quickly,” I lied. “When I found this object, four persons of dubious origin and manners tried to get it into their possession by questionable methods. It appeared advisable to me to take it into my custody until clarification of the ownership, more so as the mentioned subjects seemed not to be able to apply proper protection to this preciosity.”

Swallow that. Outside I remained cool.

“How praiseworthy.” He continued to examine me. “As it appears, one of these subjects wasn’t even able to watch his pants. Yet I deem it remarkable that you could find it interesting.”

“My wardrobe required urgent amendment. Unluckily it remained impossible so far to replace these tasteless, at best practical pieces. An important business appointment had cropped up.”

He paused. “Well. Otherwise you would surely have tried earlier to make your find available to the lawful owner?”

“According to my own standards I am not appropriately dressed for such an occasion. Indeed I would have preferred to approach it under more classy circumstances.”

“Be it as it is. How should I treat you now in your opinion?”

“It would be kind if your driver could take me back into town.”

He shook his head. “Out of the question. Unluckily I have to admit that your friendliness and your understanding puts me in distress. On no account can I risk that you might tell what you now know to certain other persons. So I fear—”

While he told me this, I intensely listened for conspicuous signals, for example of operated safeties, concentrated breathing noises, the singing of drawn strings, looked around for secret loopholes, dancing shadows and other evidence of an imminent attack.

Thus I saw and heard the approaching missile hissing and riding on a fire-tail over the forest shortly before its impact in our meeting room.

"Oh, my goodness!” April spun around in a circle, trying to take everything in. “It’s beautiful!” It took every ounce of her self-discipline to keep herself from running around the suite, inspecting the other rooms. The last thing she wanted was to act like the bumpkin she obviously was in front of the bellhop. That the hotel still employed bellmen was a statement itself.

She watched as Drake handed the man a generous tip and showed him from the room. When her husband turned to face her, his eyes going all dragony, she felt the heat rush to her face. She’d waited for this moment for the last month and a half. They were finally alone for two glorious days and nights.

Giving Drake a wobbly smile, she sauntered around the large, cream-colored leather sofa that sat in front of the huge gas fireplace. She needed something between them, at least for a minute.

“Alone at last.”

The deep rumble of Drake’s voice as his dragon asserted itself always made her knees go weak and a delicious heat to pool low in her abdomen. She placed her hands over her stomach, her fingers splayed wide. Whether it was to protect herself or hold the delightful heat in, even she didn’t know.

Drake raised an inky brow and smiled. Gold glittered on his face and forearms as he stood staring. His pupils elongated like a cat’s and tendrils of smoke began to curl around his head.

April swallowed thickly. When he started smoking like that, it meant he was ready to pounce. Slick heat flooded her middle and soaked her panties. Maybe she shouldn’t have teased him with all of the things she wanted to do once they were alone in their room.

“What happened to my brave witch who promised me all sorts of delights once we found ourselves alone?”

Gathering her courage, April ran her tongue slowly over her lower lip. She knew what that did to him. His eyes darkened to a deeper shade of emerald, then started to glow with a golden tint and she smiled as she walked her fingers up the arm of the sofa. “To which promise do you refer? Do you have a preference to one you would like fulfilled first?”

“He took the bait,” I informed Matt by mobile phone, of course over an encrypted line, once I had searched my camper for bugs routinely but thoroughly. “The hook is in deeply and firmly.”

“Of course,” he commented briefly. “Cheb already made contact and is preparing the equipment. Rico and I start tomorrow. Watch yourself.”

Around noon Leo called. I was scouting the closer vicinity on my bike. This kind of movement allowed a much more detailed look around inconspicuously than rushing up the road in a car. When the phone rang, I stopped at the side of the road. “May I invite you tonight for a romantic candlelight dinner?” he asked.

Oh, how nice! “Sure you may. Dress code? I’m afraid I don’t own a little black dress.”

“Completely informal, come as you are. Close to nature. I’d strongly advise not to wear high heels, boat shoes would be better.”

“Do we have the same understanding of close to nature?”

“Me Tarzan, you Jane. No, wear something suitable for the beach. Sand- and seawater-proof. I’ll pick you up at five.”

He disconnected without waiting for my confirmation. So. This invitation was sufficiently unprecise to reduce any fashion-conscious woman to despair. Romantic candlelight, but no stiletto heels and no cocktail dress. Boat shoes! What men considered romantic, bah.

Well, it was easier for me. I had to stick to my role and my very limited choice of clothes, and according to the role there was no budget for shopping.

For city and clubbing I only had the yellow cotton pants, but for dinner nothing but the ultra-short white mini skirt seemed appropriate. I could only choose from the tops—shoulder-free or bare midriff? The latter worked better with the narrow, low-riding mini and turned the gaze away from my tits. No trainers, it had at least to be sandals, and after returning to my camper I had the rest of the afternoon left to repaint my toenails.

A few minutes to five I was ready. My camper didn’t provide a truly large mirror, but my outfit should do. Pink tube top, white mini, trekking sandals, my feet with painted toenails, quite nice, but to match my role sufficiently patched together for an ex-soldier and drop-out not versed in terms of fashion. No display model.



Five o’clock on the dot, he knocked at my door. He wore a clean white shirt with short arms, white jeans and white canvas shoes, his hair was newly washed and done, his face shaven. He didn’t smell like marine diesel, but a bit like after shave. All nice, but truly unexpectedly he conjured up a bouquet of twenty long-stemmed white roses from behind his back.

“Oooh Leo, those are wonderful!” I asked him inside, gave him a long kiss and looked for something like a vase. The only available item was a sky blue five-liter bucket. Oh well.

“We have to go, the sun sets early,” he pressed.

It was only a five minute drive to his wharf. One of his mechanics held the boat ready with the engine running, so that we just had to change. The man couldn’t keep his gaze away when I stepped from the pier into the boat. No wonder, when I lifted my legs the skirt bared truly everything, and my panties—no G-string this time, it would have peeked out above—were rather skimpy. I didn’t care, he couldn’t take anything away from me.

With the boat it took about twenty minutes to reach a lonely spot on the western shore of one of the northerly located Keys. We had to wade through the shallow water for a short distance to reach the beach with its fine sand, so I left the sandals in the boat.

Leo struggled hard carrying a large ice chest and a voluminous picnic basket, which he dropped into the sand with a wink.

First he spread a large crimson blanket on the sand. On it he adjusted the top of a camping table horizontally with some rough wooden wedges. Then the ugly wedges disappeared under a fine white tablecloth. A bit hastily he arranged porcelain plates and silver cutlery for two, placed pre-folded cloth napkins on the plates and two silver candleholders with long crimson candles in glass tubes at two corners on the table.

“I’ve used glass-protected candles,” he explained when he lighted them. Then he added two champagne glasses from the picnic basket and produced a matching bottle from the ice chest.

After a first sip from the good Californian champagne he took a seat on the blanket next to me. The fiery sun had almost reached the horizon, and we enjoyed the natural spectacle in silence.

When only the play of colors in the evening sky was left, he continued to unpack. On silver plates he served a very delicate carpaccio of beef with Balsamico vinegar and freshly shaved Parmesan, followed by a cold gazpacho. For the main course he had brought different samples of cold sushi. Meanwhile we had changed from sparkling wine to a delicious dry Sauvignon Blanc, which accompanied us to the final chocolate cakes.

Relaxed Realms specialized in non-human clients. It took a certain amount of strength to work on supernatural creatures.

“You are the massage therapist?” His brow rose in astonishment. She was tall, slender and looked incapable of applying the necessary force to engage in therapeutic massage. Her olive skin made her look Mediterranean at first glance, the dryad was only there if you knew to look for it.

“Yep. You would be Mr. Ringler?”

“Yes.”

“Please remove your clothing and lie face down on the table. If you like, I can leave the room for a few minutes.” She turned to prepare the second sheet, then saw him unbuttoning his shirt with a lack of concern.

“I am fine with it if you are.” The challenge was obvious. He was quite an impressive specimen, and as he removed his clothing, she found that he was older than he looked.

With a dragon, you could tell the age by their bodies. He bore a series of scars that she acknowledged as territory dispute markings. The claws of another dragon had plowed through his golden skin. His hair was quite long, hanging below his shoulders within the confines of a strip of leather. It was a rich chestnut which contrasted starkly with his golden eyes. When he undid his pants, she watched with interest.

The policeman’s gun jerked up, just like the guns of his colleagues. This situation was completely out of control! I counted ten, no, twelve policemen aiming at us with their pistols or rifles, three of whom just retreated with their handcuffs.

“Officer, yes?” my policeman asked. “And I’m Donald Duck.”

“Fine, Donald,” I said grimly. “But martial law is still in effect. I am Admiral April Winston. If you don’t check my claim right now, you’ll face a charge of treason. Moreover you better put your weapons down, they’re making us nervous.”

I nodded toward my weapon on the ground. “I’ve fired two warning shots with this gun. Those fake FBI agents there have each fired at least half a magazine at us without even showing their ID or otherwise making themselves known. You can check that right now. Or you have a look at the holes in the yachts behind us.”

We were waiting.

A short time later another policeman called from behind, “There is no Admiral Winston in the Navy.” What?

Zoe looked at me, I looked at Zoe. I nodded lightly. I felt sorry for the policemen who did their jobs in good conscience. But something was very fishy here, and I wasn’t inclined to investigate this from the inside of a prison cell, where we could have an accident any time. Or whatever they had planned for us.

I was no longer sure if they hadn’t planned for Zoe’s presence and the entire scenario served to corner her by law and morale—to wear her down by making her do things she didn’t want to.

Like our current situation.

Three policemen stood in front of us, with pistols and handcuffs, unsettled and with slowly tiring arms.

Six others aimed at us from behind a door or the hood of their police cars, distributed rather evenly in a half circle around us.

One sat in the car—he had just checked and denied my identity. Not good!

Two were caring for the injured behind us and to our right and were only just noticing the new situation. These two were freshly alarmed, and were just now drawing their guns on us. Danger at all angles.

Zoe would act as soon as I did. She didn’t need any other prompting. And Theo? Ideally he’d remain standing where he was or simply drop, then he’d be out of the way. Hopefully he’d think the same thing.

I aimed at the middle one of the three freestanding men and smiled. For a moment he was unsure how to interpret my glance. This was my chance!

I jumped at him. No one could shoot at me without endangering the other cops. My victim took a blow to the throat, the one to his left got a kick that took his legs away under him. I guided his weapon hand toward the two most dangerous targets and released an unaimed shot that forced them to find cover. That was all the time Zoe needed.

Theo stood rooted to his place with an open mouth. Then after a moment he looked around. Twelve policemen lay scattered on the ground unconscious, and Zoe stepped to my side smiling and handed me my own gun.

It was one thing to read reports. It was quite another thing to watch Zoe live in action. “She’s fast, isn’t she?” I asked happily.

“Incredible,” Theo confirmed. “Your coordination is incredible.”

Cynthia Norman knew that she was destined for a strange future…in the past…with a dragon. The only confusing thing was how to get her there. With a lifetime of struggle within a race not her own facing her, she took a deep breath, got into a shuttle and hopped a comet.

Garo had been dreaming of his yellow haired alien, but the reality of her presence is more than he was prepared for. A knee-jerk reaction on his part makes Cynthia seek out a suitable substitute and with a grim certainty, he has to claim her as his own. Will she accept his offer, or hold his initial rejection over his head?

 

Nakedella had stopped screaming miles ago. The gargoyle had been waiting for her on Market Day and had caught her leaving the candlestick maker’s home. He had gripped her firmly in taloned hands and began heavy wing beats to take them toward the distant mountains.

She had only her cloak on her shoulders and her bag gripped in her hands. She held to it tightly, as she had no idea when the gargoyle would land and let her eat.

The wind was growing warmer now that they had passed the mountains and it was soothing to her blue-tinged flesh. She had almost frozen over the high passes in the range and the wind had numbed her body. Wherever he was taking her, it was warmer already.

By the time he landed outside a palace, it was hot. Desert heat. He had taken her into the sandy depths of the desert where djennies and djinns ruled and demons ran off with fair maidens all the time.

Remembering what she had been told, she quickly dug in the pack for her dress. It was decently concealing, in a certain light. Her cloak would have to do the additional duty of concealment.

She finished settling herself and turned to her kidnapper. “Where am I supposed to be going?”

“Follow me, Nakedella.” The gargoyle turned his back on her gaping mouth. She hadn’t realized that he could talk.

She followed silently in his wake, wishing she had boots that would help her move through the sand scorching her feet. Sand slowly gave way to paved streets and soon she was on cooler stone. She sighed in relief.

The gargoyle paced slowly through streets that should have been teeming with people. They were empty. No one was near and she wasn’t sure, but it looked like the city had been abandoned for quite some time.

Who could be waiting for her in this desolate place?