Epilogue
We didn’t leave the room that night, figuring we’d be summoned if there was an emergency, say like Malone coming back for a second ass-kicking or a misbehaving Tigger.
The night passed uneventfully, at least when it came to drama, leaving us to make love, talk, and eventually sleep, a slumber that ended before dawn had fully crested.
A scratching at the door was followed by, “Iolana! Apollo! Why is this door locked? Are you awake?”
I rolled over and groaned. “It’s like having a kid.”
And like a child—with an elephant memory—Tigger hadn’t forgotten what Apollo said the night before, hence why, later that day, we ended up on board Apollo’s private jet winging our way to Alberta, Canada.
A long trip with too many people in an enclosed space, which, at times, devolved into chaos, like when Keanu farted and tried to blame it on Tigger, who took offense and said his anal gas was loud and poisonous, not silent and nauseating.
When we did finally arrive at the ranch, my dragon was a nervous mess, trembling one second, the next emitting some kind of mist that burned the eyes and nostrils.
I leaned close and whispered, “Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
The promise calmed Tigger, but I wished I could say the same of me when a big dragon dropped out of the sky and landed mere paces from us. Now, there was a dragon.
Abaddon cocked his head and, in a deep voice, said, “Welcome.”
A nervous Tigger, cradled in my arms, farted but, in true bratty fashion, pointed to Keanu and said, “My Grand Vizier did it.”
Which led to the usual squabbling and, to my surprise, laughter from the big dragon, who said, “I think I will enjoy having friends.”
And we all appreciated having allies because we all had one thing in common. Make that two. We wanted to protect our dragons, and to do that, we needed to find and eliminate Malone.
Malone stared at his disfigured face in the mirror and grimaced.
His own fault for not being more cautious.
Given the size of the orange fucker, he’d not expected it to have much ability, if any.
After all, at only a week old and three molts, it shouldn’t have been able to do any harm, but as with Abaddon, stress seemed to sometimes bring out their abilities early.
And he’d paid the price.
As Malone rubbed more salve on the flesh graft he’d had done to this cheek, he muttered, “Next time I capture one, it’s going in a sealed crate.” And there would be a next time. Despite the setbacks, he’d not worked this hard and long to give up now.
The problem was, which dragon should he go after next?
The hatchlings had surrounded themselves with security and humans dedicated to their protection.
He could no longer hire mercenaries since Abaddon, the bastard, had managed to drain almost all of his accounts, even the secret ones.
It didn’t leave him many options unless he could convince an oligarch to invest, and it just so happened he knew of one without the moral qualms Apollo had displayed.
Enjoy your freedom while you can, because I’m coming for all of you.
Meanwhile, across the world…
The obsidian bowl arrived, a journey that took weeks since it had to travel all the way from Hawaii to Scotland. Alistair unwrapped it carefully, eyeing the unique piece he’d paid a fortune for. He leaned in close for a sniff, but the solid piece foiled his refined olfactory sense.
Only one thing to do.
He dropped it on the flagstone floor, where the bowl shattered into pieces. He crouched, grabbing a section with a gray swirl, inhaled deep through his nose and…
Well, well. While faint, no mistaking what he’d found. The remnants of a dragon shell. That made four of them now in the world. Four too many.
His lips pursed. Might be time to pay the young dragons a visit. After all, he’d not survived eons in peace and quiet to have some newcomers ruin it with their hot-headed misguided attempts to rule the planet.
What a teaser! Wait until you read Alistair’s story in Protecting My Human.