Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Rain pattered against my scales, not that I felt the cold or wet, but still, why had I given up my comfortable bed to fly into a storm?
If it had only been about hunger, I could have eaten my unwelcome guest, a thought that, for some reason, didn’t involve me crunching her bones to bits but my head between her—
Oh no.
Oh fuck no.
The randy turn of my mind surprised. It had been a long time—so very long—since I’d had any interest in the female sex.
With a human body came human needs. But why this woman?
In the hours since we’d met, she’d done nothing but vex me with endless questions.
More annoying, I found myself replying, even as I didn’t mean to.
How had she gotten me to reveal so much?
She must have somehow beguiled me. Was she a witch?
Doubtful. She didn’t have that stink of magic about her.
Whatever her trick, she posed a danger, and on the morrow, she planned to leave.
Leave with her knowledge of me. Leave to boldly confront Nessie over a stupid treasure.
Leave for an almost certain death because the gentle water dragon I used to know had turned ugly and bitter.
Not my problem. I had other more pressing issues that required my attention, such as the emergence of some baby dragons.
My first inkling of their existence came from Asteria over dessert during one of her random visits. We’d just finished my freshly made bread pudding when her eyes unfocussed and she muttered, “Nestled in magma, the egg warms and cracks, heralding a new beginning.”
Fancy words that clearly indicated a dragon had been born.
Not that I cared. It was bound to happen eventually.
To my surprise, though, Astaria returned within the week and offered another premonition about a second hatchling.
By the time she announced a third dragon had emerged from its shell, I found myself curious at the sudden flurry after eons of nothing.
Being shit with technology, I ordered my attorney—who had connections—to find these baby dragons.
He succeeded in finding the first three and then a surprising fourth, and I received a brief packet with their current locations.
Not that I planned to visit. No point in going through that much trouble until I’d decided what to do with them.
I’d trashed the dossiers but not before memorizing their contents. It proved all too easy to remember what I’d learned.
The first to be born was Pollita, a delicate female living in the jungles of Peru, surrounded by servants who all belonged to one big extended family. She seemed sweet.
Second, who hatched apparently within days of Pollita, called himself Abaddon.
A large, black-scaled male with curling horns and the ability to spit fire.
He resided on a ranch in Alberta, Canada, and had guards patrolling the property and several savvy servants.
The file indicated he’d talked openly about his plans for world domination, meaning he’d need monitoring.
Persephone, the third, turned out to be female and plump, with breath that could frost the living. She called Italy her home and had an American novelist and a rich widow at her beck and call.
The fourth, and only one not predicted by Asteria, was a male runt named Tigger. The dossier indicated his growth might be stunted since a Hawaiian volcano spat him out mid-incubation. A few years later, his egg finished curing in a kiln. He had the gift of poison gas and toxic spit.
From no dragons hatched in eons to four in such a short time span seemed suspicious. Coincidence or something else at play?
The most recent hatchling, born in Hawaii, didn’t surprise.
Volcanoes in those isles tended to be active.
The Italian and Peruvian volcanoes that also produced babies, while not entirely dormant, did end up being a shock to those who monitored them because the usual warning signs didn’t occur.
Then again, nature couldn’t always be predicted.
The hatching that perturbed the most came from the dead cone in Alberta that exploded suddenly.
From all accounts, it should have never blown.
Did the humans have the technology to wake volcanoes?
And if yes, were they intentionally trying to hatch dragons?
I sure as fuck hoped not. That many dragons, all at once, in a world that had long since relegated them to myth, posed a dilemma.
Let them live or cull them before they could cause trouble?
I already knew Abaddon had delusions of ruling the world. A goal that would fail because I’d kill him myself if he dared to even try. I wasn’t about to see my species go extinct because of a hatchling’s arrogance.
Hopefully I wouldn’t have to act, as I kind of liked knowing dragons had returned to the world.
Should I reach out to the hatchlings? Would they even be open to companionship?
If they came from a certain clutch, I feared their preprogrammed shell—imbued with the knowledge their mother wish to impart—might have tainted their minds.
If that were the case, then they posed a danger to Earth.
To me. To all mankind. Still, could I be so callous as to end their lives before they’d barely begun?
Should I judge them before they committed any crimes?
At the same time, getting rid of them now while still in their growth phase would be easiest—if cruel.
They wouldn’t stand a chance against me.
Thus far, according to my lawyer, they seemed mostly concerned with their own well-being, striving to create a safe environment, acquiring loyal servants, as well as accumulating—or in some cases confiscating—wealth for their hoard.
If I thought they would be content with getting rich and lording it over their territory, I wouldn’t be worried, but while my progenitor had passed on to me only basic knowledge, I feared their mother had passed on more.
I wondered if, like her, they’d inherited an insatiable need for power and domination—and a taste for human flesh.
Decisions. Decisions. As if I didn’t already have my hands full renovating the castle and now dealing with a human who wouldn’t shut up. Adding to that, I now also had Asteria claiming she saw me going on a journey with Davina. Not a fucking chance.
As my mind whirred and I coasted the currents above the isle, my keen gaze sought movement on the ground.
During inclement weather, most animals burrowed, waiting out the storm.
Even if they ventured forth, they’d be safe from me tonight, for I hunted not to feed but protect.
Where had the Red Cap from that afternoon gone?
The rain had washed away its tracks and scent, but it had to be here somewhere, even as I wondered how it had arrived.
Had it been hidden from me this entire time or only recently been sent by Nessie, and, if the latter, why?
Sure, our last visit almost ten years ago hadn’t gone well.
The shock of Nessie cussing me out because I wouldn’t do her a favor had shocked.
“If I weren’t a prisoner of this loch, I’d go myself!” she’d yelled. She’d wanted me to visit a distant cave once inhabited by a dragon long dead.
“There’s no point in me visiting. It’s best to leave the past alone.”
An answer that led to her trying to attack me, to no avail. She was stuck in the water, and I simply jumped into the air and flew away, subjected to her furious screams for miles. I’d not been back since, figuring once she snapped out of her mood she’d send me an apology. I waited still.
I circled the island, dipping and sniffing, puzzled by the fact I couldn’t seem to find the Red Cap. Had it fled the isle, knowing I’d kill it? It wasn’t until I winged in the direction of my castle, giving up my search, that I caught a putrid whiff.
A smell headed for my home!
The nerve.
Soon as my clawed feet hit the ground, I shifted to my man form and took long strides toward the kitchen door, which I could see had been busted open. The stupid creature dared trespass?
In my rage, I almost shifted. If my dragon would have fit, I’d have rampaged through the castle.
However, the rooms and halls, while large and grand, couldn’t accommodate my girth.
Whatever. It wouldn’t be the first time in my long life that I had to fight in my human shape.
Although, I did wish that my sword, a beautiful claymore I’d wielded for centuries, wasn’t in my room.
A butcher knife from the kitchen lacked the length I would have liked.
The short blade would make it harder to decapitate, but I’d manage.
Losing its head wouldn’t actually kill the Red Cap—for that, I needed fire—but a body without its head tended to be easier to handle when the time came to setting it aflame.
The dirty and wet trail of the Red Cap passed through my kitchen to the hall and up the stairs. Given its attack earlier that day, no need to guess where it headed, although I did wonder at its interest in Davina.
I bounded up the steps, two at a time, moving quickly, wondering if I’d arrive too late.
A sudden scream showed my guest still alive. In that moment, I had a choice: slow down and let the Red Cap solve my dilemma, or save the woman?
I sprinted, my tarnished honor unable to do anything less than go to the rescue.
The door to my bedroom gaped open, and I entered to find Davina cornered, her back pressed to the wall, a pillow in hand. Make that soaring, as she tossed it at the Red Cap. See what I mean about humans lacking basic preservation skills?
A quick glance at the bed showed the sheets shredded. The creature must have attacked while she lay abed, only Davina had obviously sensed the danger and moved out of the way.
To distract it from the professor, I snapped, “Did you not get the memo? This isle is off limits to Red Caps.”
The creature whirled and hissed in my direction, as if I would be impressed by its savage appearance. I’d seen worse.
“Do not get involved,” it growled.
“Says the fucker who came uninvited into my home.”
“I have my orders.”
Interesting. It came at someone’s behest. “You are not killing my guest.”
“The female won’t die.”
“The split in my mattress says otherwise.”
“My orders have changed. I am to take the female with me.”
The claim arched my brow. “Why?”
“Because the mistress commands it.”
While I suspected I knew who, I asked anyhow. “And who is this mistress that thinks she can send her minions to my territory?”
“The mighty one. The queen of the lochs. The—”
Given I didn’t know how many titles it would spit out, I interrupted. “Of for fuck’s sake. Why can’t you just say her name?”
“Mistress Nessie.”
“Guess she’s still pissed at me.” And now I was more than annoyed with her.
“The mistress has no quarrel with you.”
“Obviously she does, or you wouldn’t be here trying to abduct Davina.” Why did a human professor suddenly interest Nessie to the point she’d dare send a Red Cap into my territory?
“The female doesn’t belong to you,” the thing further stated.
“Nor to Nessie,” I added. “Why does your mistress want her?”
“The why matters not. I am taking her.”
“Like fuck you are.”
Apparently, not the reply it wanted. The Red Cap lunged for me while swinging its rusty blade. Too slow. I easily stepped aside and chopped with my own knife, lopping off its arm.
The screech that emerged hurt my sensitive ears.
I crouched and pulled the hilt of my claymore peeking from under the mattress, and as I rose, my blade was already in motion, I sliced through its neck, and the head went flying.
The body collapsed in a foul heap of blood and putrescence, which would be devilishly hard to remove from the wooden plank floor.
As would be the vomit Davina spewed.