Bonded to the Dragon: The Lick of Fire Collection: Dragon Lovers Read online

Page 6


  He wasn’t even human. I had to stop staring at him.

  I looked at the house. For some reason, I remembered it being larger and scarier, not this old, tired little thing that looked as if it might fall apart during the next snowstorm. “What was it that he offered to you in exchange for me?”

  “The Key of Transcendence. It makes doors in places where there are none, even supposedly to death.”

  I turned at the sound of some strange music from within the house. “Do you hear that?”

  Grant gave me an odd look. “Hear what?”

  I listened intently but didn’t hear anything else.

  “If there was something to hear, I would hear it.”

  “Maybe it’s magic,” I snapped.

  “Perhaps,” Grant replied. “But what I know of human magic? It doesn’t last past its maker’s death.”

  “What about the Devourer’s magic? The Devourer was driving Andrew like a car.”

  He looked at the house and focused on it, pausing for a moment before he spoke. “I have dedicated my life to recognizing the signature of the Devourer’s magic. If there was a remnant of it in there, I would sense it, and destroy it. It is best we go now. We’re late.”

  Grant moved toward the car. I needed one more moment to see if I could hear that sound again.

  “The Key sounds valuable.”

  The car beeped and the doors slowly folded upward, like a bird tucking in its wings. “I spent a long time searching for it because I believed it would help me break into the Angel of Death’s fortress. But I no longer have need of it,” he said, giving me a meaningful glance.

  Because he had me.

  I gave the house one last look. “An inanimate key is a lot less troublesome than me.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  He could have traded me. He could have sold me for what he wanted.

  “Thank you,” I said, getting into the car.

  He shook his head. “You don’t need to thank me. You don’t sell people who trust you.”

  6

  Lucky for us, Andrew with his little pocket-dimension stunt, had cut short our journey to where we were going.

  I fingered the reddish pink rose on my lap. It was small and delicate with tiny green leaves still attached.

  We had reached a sort of understanding after leaving Andrew’s place. I kept looking at the grass I was stepping on, touching leaves and trees, trying to see if any bit of power was inadvertently escaping me. I felt as if I might be a bomb about to go off.

  Grant had noticed.

  Before we’d left, Grant had gone off into the forest and found a wild rose.

  “Here,” he’d said, handing it to me. “I’ve taken the thorns off. Hold on to this. If it starts to die while you are holding it, then you know something is wrong.”

  Andrew had never given me flowers.

  Regret and relief churned within me.

  For a part of my life, he’d been the only one who stuck by me. There were moments that hadn’t been bad. Even if he hadn’t been the best human being, he had kept his promise about never leaving me alone, well, until the day he’d left me with his “friend.”

  My eyes were wet, and I kept my face toward the window. Tears streamed not from sadness, but from a vast sense of relief that Andrew was truly gone, that I would never have to think about him again.

  Was this how my mother felt about me?

  Grant tapped me on the shoulder and handed me a tissue. “I’m sorry.”

  I tried to scrub the ridiculous tears from my eyes. Why the hell was I crying? “I’m not. Andrew got what he deserved.”

  “You’re not…mourning his loss?”

  “No.” I said no more, hoping Grant wouldn’t ask.

  Thankfully, he didn’t.

  We drove on in silence for a while until Grant turned off the road down a dirt path. Tree branches scratched and squealed against the car. “There’s something I have to tell you about this place,” he said. “My friend’s wife is a bit unusual.”

  I snorted. “Unusual? Is she a mermaid or something?”

  “Or something. She’s a shen.”

  Something pricked my finger. I turned the stem. “You keep mentioning that word like you expect me to know what it is.”

  He paused. “Titania is a shen.”

  There was still a small thorn attached to the rose. You couldn’t rely on others even if they meant well. I picked off the thorn. “I thought Titania was a fairy.”

  “Fairy is what humans call them. Shen is what they call themselves.”

  I checked the rose for more thorns and didn’t find any. “As long as she isn’t related to that bitch.”

  “She is related. They all are.”

  “What?” I went hot and cold all at once. “I thought you were going to help me. Are you planning on leaving me with her?”

  “Sophie’s not like other shen.”

  “That’s not an answer,” I said, drawing my power to me. Strangely enough, it was easier than before. I was slowly learning how to move my wings, but I still didn’t know how to fly.

  “You don’t need to feel threatened. I still have plans for you.”

  “That’s not particularly reassuring.”

  “It’s not supposed to be.” He turned and looked at me. “It’s honesty.”

  And somehow, I was okay with that, because at least I knew where he stood.

  What did it matter who I was stuck with?

  The car slowed to a stop before a huge red boulder. “Sophie will know more about what you are because you were made with shen magic.”

  “You seem quite confident that she isn’t like Titania.”

  He turned off the car. “Hunter wouldn’t have married her if she was. And Hunter… I once would have said I would have trusted him with my life.” He got out of the car.

  That didn’t bode well. I shoved the door open and ducked out of the rising door. Thick leaves crunched underneath my feet as I followed Grant into the forest. He wasn’t going to avoid this conversation. I called after him, “What happened?”

  “Nothing. I just learned not to trust anyone with my life.”

  I glanced at the ring of mine on his hand. “Is that a lesson I should have learned too?”

  “That’s different. I know what betrayal is, and I won’t do it to anyone else.”

  “Oh, now that’s completely reassuring.” I waved my arms exaggeratedly. “All I have to do is trust you.”

  The red boulder in front of us moved.

  It wasn’t a boulder.

  It turned and drew back its lips, stone flowing like flesh and skin in a strangely nauseating manner. The size of a two-story house, it was a massive Chinese Foo dog like the ones outside of the buffet my mother used to take us to on the rare coincidence of special occasions and money.

  The thing lowered its suitcase-sized nose to us. Grant held out his hand. I jumped in surprise. A primal shiver went down my spine as Grant let out a draconic snarl that sounded completely fuck-you vicious.

  The beast nodded and turned back into the brush, moving way more quietly than something that big should.

  “What was that?”

  He was smug even when he shrugged. “How you say hello in Draconic.”

  A ball of light floated toward me. A woman’s voice emanated from it. “What are you?”

  I tried to look at the fluttering light, but it was so tiny bright and blinding, I couldn’t see what it was. “Is that…a fairy?”

  “No,” said the woman’s voice. “A communication light. Just in case that I decide I don’t want you on my land. You feel of death magic.”

  “She’s a human brought back from death by the fairy queen Titania.”

  “Against my will,” I added. “I would have been perfectly happy staying dead.”

  The light stopped moving, hovering in midair. “Did you say Titania?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No.” The light continued floating. “Go on.”
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  “I’ve been told I’m a demon spirit of death. But until last night, I didn’t even know what that meant, other than the fact that I can’t seem to die.”

  “Have you been trying to kill yourself?” asked the light with humor in her voice.

  “As a matter of fact, I have.”

  “Really?”

  I ticked off the manner of ways I had tried off on my fingers. “Shooting, stabbing, both with steel and wood, drowning, poison, falling from a cliff—none of that worked. All it was was painful, and eventually I’d black out and then wake up on one of Titania’s gardens whole and as if nothing happened.”

  “What happened last night?”

  Grant spoke this time. “She killed a piece of Devourer. On her own, by touching it.”

  * * *

  We hiked through shrubbery, following a dirt path for what seemed like forever but couldn’t have been more than minutes, before we came across a large grassy meadow. As we walked, the air began to warm, becoming more humid, more fragrant, smelling of oranges and flowers.

  Just like Titania’s lands.

  An awareness prickled at my scalp. More fucking fairies.

  But then a disgustingly handsome man in a black T-shirt strolled out.

  Oh, he was definitely not a fairy. His magic screamed dragon.

  I paused. Could I sense types of magic? When had I learned how to do that?

  He welcomed Grant with a big thumping bro hug.

  “Sorry I missed the wedding,” said Grant.

  “It’s fine. I know you don’t come to those things anymore.”

  There was a small, modest-looking house, but beyond it was a grassy field that stretched some distance. Two huge red barns were behind the house. Movement caught my eye, and I squinted to see what it was.

  Was the red siding on the barn moving?

  I stepped forward, shielding my eyes from the sun, staring harder.

  No movement. How strange.

  A heavily pregnant dark-skinned woman came out of the house. She had that mixed-race Afro-Asian-Latino look that wasn’t traditionally pretty but compelling all the same.

  She wasn’t a dragon, but she wasn’t quite…human or fairy either. I didn’t know what she was.

  She introduced herself as Sophie and offered her hand.

  Hunter grabbed her hand. “I don’t want you touching her.”

  For a split second, it hurt. But I understood the reasoning. “I think he’s right. I’d rather not.”

  Sophie heaved a sigh. “Stop being rude, Hunter. These are guests, welcomed on the land. Look, I’m pregnant, not unable to protect myself. I know the shape of Titania’s magic, and I’ve already put defenses into place.”

  “Just because you know how a mousetrap works doesn’t mean that you can’t be hurt by it,” said Hunter, watching me as if I were a snake.

  She tilted her head at me, and I had the strangest feeling that she could see things about me that I could not.

  “She will be fine,” said Grant. “That’s why she’s holding a rose. If it begins to wither, I will act. I have a ring of binding.”

  Was that what it was called? Were rings of binding a common thing?

  Even now, I still couldn’t believe that I had given it to him. What had I been thinking?

  “See, it will be fine, Hunter. She is welcome, and she and Grant are going to have lunch with us,” she said with a finality. Sophie turned to me and smiled. It transformed her face from ordinary to extraordinary. “You’ve come just in time for cuss noodles.”

  Some foreign food I’d never heard of. “Umm, I don’t eat.”

  Sophie gave me a strange look.

  “She doesn’t sleep either,” said Grant.

  “No?” She seemed genuinely astonished. “Still, you have to try this dish. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

  The cabin’s main room was a honey-wood-paneled space that looked like the comfortable sort of place people actually lived in. On one wall was a huge scroll with hundreds of Chinese characters. I walked over to a table with incense, a bowl of oranges, and a photo in a frame. It was a picture of Sophie and an Asian woman. I squinted, trying to think of why the Asian woman looked so familiar.

  My stomach growled.

  I set the photo down and put my hand to my stomach. I was feeling…hungry?

  “Looks like you do need to eat,” said Grant, brushing past me.

  I rubbed my stomach, trying to get rid of the hollow feeling, but it only seemed to make it worse. “I guess.”

  We sat down at the table, set with napkins and chopsticks, watching Sophie and Hunter through the cutout to the kitchen. They reminded me of my friend Lana, and her dragon, who I had watched as a ghost. Oddly enough, I had seen more of love, felt more of love, when I had been dead, than in life. Even if it hadn’t been directed at me, watching my friend was like seeing a story unfold on a TV. It made me feel things, and want things, but in a safe way because I was already dead.

  But this, seeing those unspoken glances, the casual touches, those little moments of warmth in real life?

  I felt even more empty.

  I thought I had long reconciled that part of myself, the unwise part that wanted some imaginary connection to another person.

  That sort of thing wasn’t meant for someone like me.

  I hugged myself, trying to ignore the emptiness inside me, desperate for the oblivion and temporary happiness that drugs had brought me.

  Knowing my luck, even if I had drugs on hand, they would be as effective on me as death was now.

  I met Grant’s gaze for a moment. He immediately looked away.

  He had been watching me.

  Probably making sure I wasn’t going to accidentally try to murder his friends.

  I glanced at the rose I was still carrying. Still alive.

  “Have you thought about putting the rose in your hair?” asked Grant.

  “Huh?”

  “You know, so your hands are free to eat. I’ll let you know if something happens to the rose.”

  I tucked the rose behind my ear.

  Sophie dropped a big platter of yellow noodles in front of us. It had bits of chicken and vegetables mixed in and smelled mouthwateringly of garlic, ginger, and cilantro.

  Sophie served me first. “Do you need a fork?” she inquired.

  I picked up the silver chopsticks. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  Hunter, Sophie, and Grant chatted as I stared at the yellow noodles on my plate, with a scattering of seaweed and sesame seeds sprinkled on top. I’d had Chinese food, of course, the ubiquitous cheap, greasy takeout, but this? This was all light fluffiness and something else altogether. I lifted a bite with my chopsticks and inhaled the smell.

  The scent of those noodles, oh, that scent was fresh yet familiar, exotic and homey all at once. There was a hint of curry, a touch of chili, and other spices I didn’t recognize.

  The scent alone was almost enough.

  “Go on,” said Sophie. “I promise I’m not trying to poison you.”

  “It wouldn’t work anyway,” I said before taking a bite.

  Maybe it was the fact that even when I had been alive, my senses had been dulled by drugs, or maybe it was that I hadn’t eaten anything since I had been resurrected. “Oh. My. God. This is the fucking most amazing fucking fabulous thing in the world!”

  Sophie burst into laughter, and the other two men started to chuckle.

  “This is why Grandma called them cuss noodles,” said Sophie. “They’re so good, they make you cuss.”

  * * *

  After making a glutton of myself by having second and third helpings, I was finally done.

  Sophie went to take a nap, apparently exhausted. Grant filled my wineglass. “Go for a walk on the grounds. Hunter and I are going to clean up and work on a few other things. But if lights come flying to you, don’t go any further. The stone lions might eat you.”

  I raised my eyebrow at the mention of cleanup. Men who cleaned up after a meal? No
w I knew I truly was in a strange land.

  I side-eyed him. “I don’t mind dying.”

  As I said it, I realized that that wasn’t quite true anymore.

  Grant looked at me strangely.

  And I remembered what he said, about smelling my lies.

  I had to get out of here. I spun on my heel and headed out the door.

  I followed the gray stone path down toward the orchard. By all appearances, it seemed to be like any ordinary slate-and-cement path, but in between the bits of mortar there were little shells, keys, and crystal-like beads. It reminded me of the steps at Titania’s court, only without bones and teeth.

  The sky was blue with a single cloud. I headed toward the line of trees, with my glass of wine, the liquid on my lips tasting of life and richness in a way I’d never known it could. The air was oddly warm, more summer breeze than autumn air, with the hint of something floral and citrus. As I came closer to the orchard, I realized that they were orange and lemon trees.

  Up here? In Upstate New York? Even I knew those trees shouldn’t be growing up here.

  But they were thriving by the looks of it.

  Bees and jeweled hummingbirds flitted between the leaves.

  My physical body was full for the first time, but simultaneously, it made me realize how empty I was.

  I couldn’t honestly remember the last time I’d had a home-cooked meal, let alone in a home so filled with light and love.

  It gutted me.

  It was a longing that had haunted me for my entire life, a hole I had tried to fill with Andrew, to forget with drugs, and to escape in death.

  But apparently, I was going to be cursed with life forever.

  And I had to admit, rightfully so. I had always been a problem for those nearest to me. My mother, Lana, Andrew.

  And now…

  I drained the glass of wine to stop myself from finishing that thought.

  “How are you doing?” asked Sophie, startling me. For a pregnant lady, she was pretty damn quiet with her footsteps.