CHAPTER SEVEN
Lukendevener
I despise the feeling of losing my magic every time I’m sucked into the book’s world. It was even more unsettling this morning, because normally I would have flown to the top of the tree to rescue the cat.
Trapped in a world without magic, I lose my fire, my flight…
I lose everything that makes me a dragon, that makes me special.
I can’t stand it, and I can’t stand for Skye to see me that way, either.
Then I remember how she smiled at me in the book. She clearly prefers me as a man, not wanting my more beastly form. I hate that the first time I made Skye laugh and smile, it wasn’t truly me.
My teeth grind. Most of all, I hate that Shadow is right. I like the witch—I’ve been drawn to her ever since our first meeting, when I felt her magic call to mine. Yet I’m clearly unable to be the man she wants.
“The dinner on Friday night,” I growl, “do you think that will be an actual scene we’ll be pulled into?”
“Probably.” Her head bobs nervously.
“Can’t you check?”
A tiny line creases her brow. “No, the book won’t let us touch it, remember?”
“I thought humans mass produced books. Can’t you simply read another copy?”
“Normally, yes. But not this book.” She nibbles on her lower lip, her fingers playing with the belt of her coat.
“I got Dance of Desire as an advanced reader copy. It won’t be published for another three months.
I already emailed the publishing company to double check, and they won’t send me another copy. ”
I grunt. That must be why my spell failed as well. I used several of my most powerful transportation crystals to exchange gold for human romance books from the town’s bookstore. The only book I specified was this book, yet it did not arrive with the others.
“Look. We obviously need to break this spell, and you have the best magical library in all the realms.” Skye rushes through the words, sounding almost breathless. “I know you might not want to hire me any longer, but I think you have to let me back inside your library so we can find a solution.”
“You’re right. We will spend today there. With any luck, we’ll break the spell before dinner tonight.” I lean forward, ready to pick her up and fly us to my castle.
Skye lets out a little squeak and hops backward. “I need to get dressed.”
“You’re wearing your coat. I assumed you were ready to go.” I frown down at her. “Wait—are those the same shoes you had on in the scene from the book?” They appear so, all covered in fluffy pink feathers that match no bird I’ve ever seen.
Skye’s cheeks flush pink, her rosebud mouth caught in a little O of surprise.
Does that mean the little witch is wearing nothing but that pink negligee under her coat?
Goddess, her outfit this morning was enough to drive a man to distraction, and the way she smiled up at me, her eyes full of promise.
My cocks stir at the memory of her glorious breasts barely contained by those tiny scraps of fabric, my leather pants becoming suddenly way too tight.
My tail whips up and forward to cover the telltale bulge, the cat making a mew of distress at losing her play toy.
“Yes, get dressed,” I bark. “I will do the same.” Reaching into my invisible storage pocket, I send a pulse of magic into the space, asking for what I want.
Instead of leaving, Skye steps closer, her eyes latched onto the location where my arm disappears. “That’s amazing. What is it?”
“It’s a magical mini-realm only I can access.” A spurt of pride goes through me. “I created it when I was only fifty years old, barely out of the nursery.”
Those cornflower eyes meet mine. “How old are you?”
“Three hundred and seventy-three years.”
Surprised awe explodes across her face, like a firework bursting with light, her voice going breathy. “That old?”
“I’ll have you know I’m a dragon in my prime.
” My wings rustle, my shoulders going back.
My inner fire leaps within my chest, burning hot and ready.
I’m exactly of an age for mating. Only no dragons ever sparked my mate bond, not that they’d accept one such as me, my shifting magic shattered inside me like a cracked mirror.
Fabric flies into my hand, and I pull out a shirt. Holding it up in front of me, I send another pulse of magic through it, and it opens like a flower, molding to my chest and arms, the cloth petals wrapping around my back and sealing together without disturbing my wings.
“I wondered how you got into shirts! Or pants, with your tail.” The little witch flutters her hand toward said appendage. “That is so cool.”
I grunt. None of this would be necessary if I could shift into a man. But since I’m stuck in my weredragon form, and people on Earth have strange ideas about nudity, I’m forced to purchase magical clothes to accommodate my wings and tail.
Princess Buttercup meows, and Skye laughs. “Yes, I know you like his tail. I do, too.”
“What?” I growl, surprised at her words. Why would she like my tail?
“Nothing!” she squeaks and turns away, hurrying down the hallway. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
I stare down at the cat, who watches me with fascination as I retrieve a pair of boots from my storage pocket and pull them on. Once done, I twitch the tip of my tail again, letting her play.
The little hunter hunkers low to the ground and inches forward, her triangular ears swiveling forward, searching for sound. With her coloration, she’d be difficult to see in a forest of autumn leaves, and it’s amusing to watch her act as if the hallway provides her any such camouflage.
Everything I can see in this small home is bright colors. One doorway shows a daffodil-yellow kitchen, while the other shows a fuchsia living room with an overstuffed couch that looks softer than any piece of furniture I own.
It’s as if everything Skye touches becomes spring flowers, as pretty and bright and fresh as the woman herself.
She returns, her coat hanging open, showing the slacks and sweater she wears underneath. “I’m ready.”
The cat straightens from her play and meows up at the witch.
“No, I’m not going to bother him with that.”
“With what?” I ask.
“It’s nothing.” She begins buttoning her coat.
With a snort, Princess Buttercup darts into the kitchen and leaps onto the counter to headbutt a wooden box.
“Is she hungry?” I ask. “You may take the time to feed her.”
The cat meows again and points a paw at the witch.
“I fed Princess Buttercup already. She’s telling me I need to eat breakfast.” Skye blushes, rose-petal pink, her hands fluttering in the air. “But I don’t! We can totally get straight to work.”
“No.” I frown down at her. “You’ll work better if you’ve eaten. We’ll pick up something in town.” When she tries to protest again, I hold up my hand. “It’s on the way.”
Brooking no further argument, I stride outside and pull the witch into my arms. With a pulse of flight magic, I leap into the air, my wings spread wide.
Skye gives a breathless little gasp and clings to me, and my tail wraps around her legs, helping to hold her close. I stoke my inner fire, forming a bubble of warm air around her, and enjoy the delightful wiggle the little witch gives as she snuggles closer.
Once I crest the treetops, the houses of the residential area soon slide by below us, giving way to Ferndale Falls proper. I ask, “Where do you wish to eat?”
Skye twists in my arms, her gaze fascinated as she takes in the colorful buildings of downtown. “For breakfast, we could get waffles at Slice of Life or pastries from Cake My Day. Pastries will be faster.”
“Cake My Day it is.” I angle toward the ground, wings canted to make a spiraling turn to come down on the middle of the town green.
Severin’s clearly been at work, using his plant magic, because the grass underneath the thin dusting of snow already appears spring green. The fae himself waves to us from a few yards away, circled by tulips.
When the flowers notice us, they run over, their pink flower heads bobbing, leaf arms waving for attention.
Skye giggles and leans over to pet them. “Look how pretty you are. You’d never know it’s winter.”
“As long as they spend most of their time in the greenhouse, they seem to be all right.” Severin points to the glass structure standing at the end of the town green. It encloses a dogwood tree and several of the rooted bushes, all living in perpetual summer due to his plant magic.
A couple of human children walking along the sidewalk squeal and race onto the green. “Kitties! I want one!” My power instinctively reaches out, confirming they don’t have any magic, which is why the town’s protection spell makes them think the walking flowers are cats.
The tulips take off, little root feet flashing as they dart across the snow, the children laughing and chasing after them.
Then several small pumpkins roll out from under a bush and join in the fun, causing the children to scream about hedgehogs.
“That never gets old,” Hannah says, walking up to stand beside her husband.
Severin’s normally stern expression softens as he hooks her arm with his.
The children’s mother calls for them to return, and they reluctantly give up pursuit, walking back over with little hellos to “Miss Skye.”
“Don’t forget to come to story hour next week,” she calls after them, and the mother waves her agreement.
“What is this story hour?” I ask.
“One Saturday every month, I read a book to the children. It’s the start of my charity, to get them interested in reading. If I get enough funds, I’ll also be able to give them books to read for themselves.”
“She’s being modest,” Hannah says. “Skye gives every character a distinct voice and acts out all the fun parts of the books. The children adore her.”
I wonder if it’s something dragon younglings would like. Anything that gets them interested in reading and learning is desirable.
“I know I’m supposed to be on vacation, but I can’t miss story hour.” Skye clasps her hands together in front of her chest and gives her friend a beseeching look, all big blue eyes and vulnerability.
That look makes something tickle inside my chest, a feeling of protectiveness washing over me.
“I don’t want you to miss it. I know how much it means to you.” Hannah grimaces. “But I can’t let you work without the state penalizing you for it.”
“But I don’t do it as town librarian,” Skye counters. “I do it as my charity. It just happens to take place in the library.”
“Okay, you can be in the library, but only for this,” the mayor says, and the women hug.
I clear my throat.
“Right.” Skye pulls back. “Got to run. Lots of research to do.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Hannah says. “We didn’t find anything at the palace library that would help you break the spell.”
Severin shoots me a knowing smirk, making me realize his wife has told him about my predicament. So much for keeping it secret. I imagine he’ll tell the other men, and once the pixies hear about it, then everyone in town will know. The little imps are the worst gossips in Faerie.
I scowl at him, which only makes him smirk harder.
The tulips and pumpkins escort us to the edge of the green, where the small gourds plop down onto their bases and wiggle around until their little painted faces look at us. Skye fusses over all of them for several minutes before I finally pull her away.
We cross the street to Cake My Day. Several delicious smells surround me the moment we step into the bustling, warm room.
While I’ve never been inside before, Skye looks at home in the bright-pink bakery.
She weaves in between the pastel-painted tables and chairs to make her way to the two display cases that fill the back of the room, one sweet, one savory.
There’s a line in front of us, but my height means I can see over the humans to the bewildering range of baked goods on offer.
As we shuffle our way forward, the selection doesn’t get any less overwhelming.
But when the couple in front of us finally moves away, I relax a little.
The two-foot tall woman working the counter is a brownie, and one facet of their hearth magic is you can ask them to serve you whichever food you will like most.
“Pepperpot, hi!” Skye says. “I’ll have a cinnamon roll and one of the new Valentine’s strawberry cream cheese Danishes, please.”
“Good choice.” The baker slides the pastries into a pink box, then turns her brown eyes to me.
“I ask that you select for me, oh master baker.” I tip my head to her as a sign of respect.
“Not many remember this is one of the brownie magicks,” Pepperpot says, her light brown face split into a smile.
“We lost much while the doors of Faerie were closed for three hundred years, isolating the realms,” I murmur, knowing the brownie’s fae hearing will pick up my words, “but the dragons remember.” We are superior in all ways, this being only one of many.
She raises her hands, and her magic rolls over me like a warm fire on a cold day, bathing me in welcome.
The sensation fades slowly, and as it does, Pepperpot loads a large bakery box with a mixture of items from the savory case.
I assume she’s done, but she moves over to the sweets case and plucks up one of the strawberry cream cheese Danishes and deposits it before closing the box with a flourish.
At my skeptical look, she says, “You like sweets more than you think, dragon. And you certainly need more of them in your life.” Her eyes slide toward Skye, and Pepperpot gives me a knowing smile.
Why are all the small fae so meddlesome? I grunt and hand over a gold coin along with a slip of paper. “This will cover today, but I would like to start a tab. That is the number of my account at the bank.”
“Yes, you’ll be a regular customer from now on.” The coin disappears into one of the pockets of her patchwork leaf clothes, and the brownie gives me another sly grin. “I have sensed it.”
The equally short gnomes in line behind us chuckle and elbow each other as we move past, little light-green faces grinning as they whisper, “The dragon has a girlfriend.”
When I scowl at them, they simply tumble out of my way, doing front flips that put them beyond my reach.
Perfect, just perfect. Every fae in town will know by evening.