A dragon? Another one? Here?
Alex internally cursed his reaction when Elaina’s expression, which had almost appeared hopeful a moment before, closed down and became wary.
He forced his facial muscles to relax. “I don’t offhand, but I can try to figure it out.”
“Forget it.” She shrugged his arm away and fell into a quiet mood.
Several minutes later, he followed her lead and stepped off the bus behind her. Without a word of explanation, she trudged up the sidewalk. He trailed her, his brain buzzing with her revelation.
Of course there were other dragons. She’d come from somewhere after all, and she’d talked about growing up among them. But accepting a beautiful, non-threatening dragon—who couldn’t shapeshift into the big serpent thing anyway—was vastly different from accepting a powerful and dangerous dragon. Especially as he’d always imagined them as having their own homeland far—far—from humans.
She’d talked about a “him” and how the gossip column had been like giving “him” directions to her. Given how long this “him” had been around to collect treasure, he likely could shapeshift into a winged serpent.
A serpent dragon in Chicago. His body ached at the idea, as though the creature’s tail had already leveled him with a sideswipe. No wonder she was running.
After two blocks, the side street ended at a main road. In front of him, Elaina’s shoulders rounded, like from fatigue or despair, perhaps both. She crossed the intersection without checking if he was still following her.
On the other side, an unmarked set of wooden stairs led up an embankment, and she gripped the handrail while she climbed. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was using it for balance, her innate grace nowhere to be seen.
She paused and swayed, and he rushed to offer her an arm. He didn’t expect her to accept his support, but she had a death grip on him by the time they reached the top of the steps.
What was wrong with her? Sure, she looked tired, but he couldn’t detect any other symptoms. Then again, dragon sickness was a mystery. Did they become feverish, go pale, or something else?
He rubbed at his temple where a headache gathered. Dealing with helplessness out of his own ignorance wasn’t one of his strengths.
A Metra rail station sat off to the left at the top of the embankment. He guessed that to be their destination and steered them toward the building to buy tickets.
“No, it’s okay.” She straightened and fumbled through the side pocket of her bag. “I have at least two rides left on this.” Her fingers clutched a ten-ride ticket as evidence.
Had she finally accepted his assistance? She’d offered him passage—in advance.
He clasped her wrist and scanned the ticket. “Are you sure there’s enough for both of us? You’re not trying to ditch me again, are you?”
“I don’t have a choice right now.”
That wasn’t reassuring.
“Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”
Her eyelids drooped. “Let’s get over there for the northbound train.”
They rode the Metra for two stops, and then she directed them to exit. Any other time, he’d be celebrating his victory over her. Instead, her apparent illness left a sour taste in his mouth.
The white columned station here in Morton Grove was nicer than the glorified shed for the one in town. She once again steadied herself on his forearm and led them south. Broad lawns fronted the office parks they passed, and the smell of freshly cut grass finally erased the lingering scents from the bus that he’d rather not identify.
He’d given up trying to figure out her destination. The phrase “along for the ride” applied perfectly to this situation.
A couple of blocks later, she released him and dug through her bag. He followed her across the lawn toward a parking lot. Half-hidden by a low-hanging tree, a rust bucket of a car marked their destination.
He stopped, his limbs heavy and numb. Damn it. He should have known. This whole time, her goal had been to escape. She’d needed to get to her car when James hadn’t been able to deliver her here this morning.
She took the driver’s seat, and he stood in the open door in a last ditch effort to prevent her from leaving. But no convincing words came to him.
Even his aggressive instincts remained silent. Now that he knew the reason for her fear, his protective nature overwhelmed any impulses to force her to stay.
He rested his forearms on the roof, his head sagging between them. What the hell was he going to do now? Nothing he’d done or said had changed her mind. She still wanted to leave, probably to move halfway across the country if the tabs on her web browser were any indication, and he’d lose her forever.
Crazy urges to follow her cross-country, relocating his headquarters if need be, whispered persuasively in his head. After everything he’d learned in the past twelve or so hours, he wasn’t sure he had enough logic remaining to resist his impulsiveness.
Several quiet clicks interrupted his internal debate. She hadn’t started the engine. Had she changed her mind? Inside the car, she hunched over the steering wheel, in much the same position his body had just held.
“It’s okay.” He rubbed her shoulders. “We’ll figure out something.”
She sat back and slapped the steering wheel. “You stupid, no-good piece of junk. I need you to work. You do not get to slack off today, you understand?”
Wonderful. She wasn’t upset about leaving him. She was upset she couldn’t leave him.
“Slide over, let me try.”
She obeyed without protest, and he settled inside and turned the key. Another quiet click, like a dead battery or loose connection. He tugged the switch to pop the hood.
“Stay here. I’ll take a look.”
She hugged her bag and gave a silent nod.
One engine problem was immediately obvious. The battery terminals had corroded so much the cables weren’t making a good connection. He needed something to scrape off the crud.
His hands went to his pockets, and he felt her discarded apartment keys. If she wasn’t going back there, she wouldn’t care about gunk all over them. He disconnected the cables and got to work.
Several minutes later, the terminals were clean enough to reconnect the cables. Inside the car, she’d slumped against the passenger door during the wait. He turned the key in the ignition again. Bingo. Still enough charge in the battery.
She didn’t move at the rumble of the engine, dead asleep. He watched her long enough to be sure and then allowed himself a fist pump. Now he was in charge of their destination.
After gently closing the hood, he returned to the car and edged her bag out of the way to click her seatbelt into place. The satchel slid to the floor from her lap. In her sleep, she whimpered and shimmied closer to him, snuggling under his arm. A contented sigh curved her lips.
This was more like it.
His sense of triumph leaked away at the sight of her vulnerability. His chest constricted until it was hard to breathe. He’d never been more lacking in the knowledge of how to protect someone. He didn’t have the slightest idea of how to take care of a human, much less a weak and defenseless dragon.
Well... Right now, she seemed to need sleep. And he just so happened to have a luxury bed at home. Rationalization or not, it was a good plan.