Tansy curled up on the sofa with a pen and paper, scribbling out her thoughts and feelings, trying to sift through the crap without digging too deeply into the experiences that had created them. She was determined to face what had happened to her and to find a way to get past it. What she didn’t need was a day-by-day inventory of the pain and degradation she’d suffered. So she tried, with varying degrees of success, to separate her emotions from the events that had created them. Writing down her feelings was a trick her mother had taught her from a very young age. She was firm in the conviction that once those emotions were out of her body and on the page, their power to hurt was greatly diminished.
Tansy had scribbled herself stupid, but she was under no illusions about how hard her road to recovery was going to be. She was on her fourth page and starting to flag when she was given a very welcome distraction.
With a pop and a shower of mid-air sparks, her little friend Oskaal appeared. He was average size for a dragonet, about three meters long from nose to tail, and his particular color scheme ranged from bright gold to dark chocolate. The sun danced across his scales in a river of sparkles and the lower edge of his wing membrane was embellished with fluted ovals that resembled the design of a peacock feather. He was fine-boned, appearing more seahorse than dragon, and he loved nothing more than to curl up in her lap and be stroked to sleep.
All the Earth women living in the den had been assigned a dragonet companion. They couldn’t talk mind-to-mind like the battle dragons, but the dragonets could pop in and out at a moment’s notice and run messages. Tansy had been told that if a dragonet spent enough time with a person they could track him or her anywhere on Gemarra. The Enforcers thought the dragonets were a good insurance policy—in fact they’d already saved Sorcha’s life—but Tansy valued Oskaal most for his company. He was smart, interactive and entirely without judgment. He was the perfect cross between a friend and a pet.
Oskaal flew down to the couch and pushed the notepad out of her hands, cramming himself onto her lap and giving an impatient trill. He was determined to be petted to sleep, and Tansy was happy to oblige him, sweeping her hand down the length of his back from head to tail. He shuddered with pleasure, a steady purr rolling in his chest. The vibration and heat from the dragonet acted like a soporific and Tansy could feel herself relaxing. Her mind fell quiet and she sank back onto the couch, the tension draining out of her body.
When Sorcha called out to announce her presence, Tansy was slow to rouse. Oskaal had no such problems. His purring stopped and he jerked himself to his feet. Standing half on the couch and half on Tansy, he glared at the doorway.
Tansy smiled in welcome as Sorcha entered the room, but Oskaal sent a mean and deliberate hiss her way. The dragonet was clearly unhappy to have his nap time interrupted.
Sorcha’s smile was equally mean. Her bright-red hair flowed free to her waist and her pale-green eyes sparked when she looked at Oskaal. She stalked across the room, the elegant motion of her body given power when she fixed her hand on her hips. Tansy stroked her hands over the grumpy dragonet, knowing he’d lost this battle before it even started.
“Good morning, Oskaal,” Sorcha said, baring her teeth. “Would you like to be civil or would you like me to explain to Tengale how you growled at me and hurt my feelings?”
Poor Oskaal squeaked, shot into the air and disappeared with a hasty pop.
A laughing Sorcha dusted off her hands. “And that’s what happens when the biggest, meanest dragon in the den claims you as his pet.” She fell onto the couch next to Tansy. “It’s good to be me.”
Tansy chuckled. Sorcha was a powerhouse in her own right. With the weight of the two senior dragons in the den behind her, she got her own way more often than not. Even her mates gave in to her, though not always with good grace. One of Sorcha’s husbands, Jaxmyre Randovar, was the den commander and he didn’t like being told what to do by anybody. Kaelum Sentrellovere, her other husband, was a sweet, generous man who seemed to be the peacemaker of their family.
Jax and Kae’s battle dragons, Tengale and Jaysada, had firmly and irrevocably claimed Sorcha as their pet, and the fiery Bostonian had no qualms about throwing Tengale’s weight around.
Sorcha slapped the couch cushion. “So, koala girl, are you ready for your dragon-talking lesson?”
“Koala girl?” Tansy couldn’t help cracking a smile despite the hokey nickname.
“Yep. As you are one of only two Aussies in our little community, I want to be culturally sensitive.”
Tansy snorted. Sensitive her ass. Sorcha grinned and kept talking. “I call Chelsea kangaroo girl, so that one’s taken, but koalas are cute. Right?”
Only if you’d never heard them grunting and squealing in the middle of the night. Tansy’s dad loved camping and insisted that it bonded the family. He particularly enjoyed the rustic, natural appeal of bush campsites with no facilities. After learning to dig a hole to go to the bathroom, koalas had been the least of her childhood worries.
Tansy refrained from enlightening her American friend on the realities of wildlife in the Australian bush. Instead she chose to focus on her Concern of the Moment—because god knew, she had plenty to choose from.
“About the dragon-talking thing,” Tansy said, half tempted to simply nix the idea altogether. “I’m not sure I want a den full of scary and scaly blabbing away inside my mind.”
“I don’t blame you.” Sorcha shuddered. “I wouldn’t want that either. But you can relax—only Fellescend and Zenbaylan will communicate with you.” She winked in a way that wasn’t reassuring and Tansy could almost feel herself being railroaded.
Sorcha sailed on, oblivious. “Usually the blacks won’t talk to anyone but the two Enforcers they’re partnered with. Happily—or unhappily—for us, the ones who carried us back from the rescue mission now consider us their pets.” Sorcha pulled a face that suggested that acquisitive claim could go either way. “They’re also very territorial. Tengale and Jaysada will only talk to me, Benmonth and Annlyss will only talk to Chelsea, and Fellescend and Zenbaylan have reserved their privilege for you.”
Tansy rubbed her eyes, trying to get her head around the idea of talking to someone mind to mind. Or was a dragon something?
The concept was a two-edged sword, though there was no denying the advantage of scaly communication. If she could “talk” to Dev and Rye’s dragons, it would give her an immeasurable level of security. And as their pet, she would belong in the den regardless of her relationship with Dev and Rye.
But the downside was her fear of flying. The dragons seemed too arrogant not to call her out if they knew about her phobia. She wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with that on top of everything else she was juggling.
Unfortunately Sorcha didn’t seem to be in the mood to take no for an answer. And—aside from confessing the truth—Tansy had no real excuse not to commit to a dragony mind meld.
Deciding to tough it out, Tansy took a deep breath. “So I’ll only have to communicate with Fellescend and Zenbaylan. Nobody else will be in my head.”
Sorcha’s laugh pealed out. “No, they won’t let anyone else talk to you. And I can assure you two is more than enough to be going on with. Being a dragon’s pet sure has its perks but it’s not all sunshine and champagne.” She gave Tansy a frank look. “They can be kind of irritating, and the arrogance—sweet Mary, you have no idea. But that’s small potatoes compared to the good stuff.”
“Like what?” Tansy was intrigued despite her reservations.
Sorcha grinned. “No matter what’s going on in your life, they will be on your side, even if you’re completely at fault. When I first got together with Jax and Kae we had a little hiccup and I went running to their dragons. Jaysada let me sleep in her arms and Tengale wouldn’t let those ass-hats come anywhere near me.” Sorcha reached out and laid a hand on Tansy’s knee. “Truly there is nothing safer than the love of a dragon. If it hadn’t been for Tengale and Jaysada I’d be dead by now, and that alone should have you scrambling into the lair.”
Tansy bit her lip. The picture that Sorcha painted was so very, very tempting. “I know you’re right, but the thought of the dragons crawling around in my head—or anyone, really—makes my stomach churn.”
“Oh, I see what the problem is,” Sorcha said, waving a negligent hand in the air. “You think if you open up they’ll have unlimited access to your mind, but that’s not how it works. Talking to a dragon is like talking to a person. They can hear your words, watch your body language and be guided by your tone.” She turned to face Tansy and tucked her feet up on the cushions. “For example, when we talk I can make an educated guess about what you’re feeling but I can’t read your mind. Neither can Fellescend or Zenbaylan.”
Okay, that didn’t sound so scary. “So they’ll only hear what I think at them?”
“Yes, pretty much.”
That “pretty much” was completely equivocal and raised all sorts of questions. But Tansy knew she couldn’t afford to fight this battle—her sense of safety was too important to her recovery. She’d just have to brazen her way through. Somehow she’d have to hide her emotions from Fellescend and Zenbaylan. Her feelings regarding her ordeal, her phobia and her inappropriate crushes were nobody’s business but her own. Right now she didn’t want anyone, skin or scale, to know just how fucked up she was.
She was still trying to shore up her defenses when Sorcha grabbed her by the hand, dragging Tansy to her feet. Taking advantage of their momentum, her determined friend led her out of the Enforcer part of the den into the section of the living quarters that was the domain of the blacks.
Fellescend and Zenbaylan were waiting, yellow eyes alert and their wings tucked back tight against their bodies. The battle dragons ranged in color from pale gray to blue-black, but Fellescend and Zenbaylan were almost evenly matched in the hue of their smoke-gray scales. Fellescend wriggled in excitement and Tansy was amazed that a creature who was the size of a small plane could appear so puppy-like.
His excitement was contagious and Tansy found herself hurrying forward, her spirits lifting in unexpected anticipation.
The dragons rested on a huge bed of fine, white sand. As Tansy stepped over the low retaining wall, the soft slide of it under her feet reminded her of home. She squished her toes a bit deeper and turned to Sorcha.
“When we were kids, we used to holiday on the beach and the sand was exactly like this.” Her memories of summer always included warm sand, salt-encrusted skin and the smell of sunscreen.
“Maybe we should bring in some water and make sand castles,” Sorcha said.
Tansy grinned. “Maybe Chelsea and I should teach you how to play beach cricket.” She tried to picture her American friend with a cricket bat in her hand, but the image wouldn’t come.
Sorcha laughed but didn’t get a chance to reply because Fellescend ran out of patience. He snorted, enveloping the women in a cloud of smoke and sending them both into a coughing fit. By the time Tansy had recovered, Fellescend had his neck and chin stretched out on the sand, and his nostrils were practically resting on her toes.
Sorcha got the message and gestured her forward. “They like full-body contact. Just lie along his muzzle, wrap your arms around his cheeks and rest your forehead against his.”
Tansy blinked. She was tall for a woman, at almost five nine, yet if she did as Sorcha suggested it would only just bring her to eye level with Fellescend. She shuffled forward, tried not to think about his razor-sharp teeth, and plastered herself to his hard, scaly head.
“Just relax,” Sorcha said, as if it were nothing more than a matter of willpower. “Close your eyes and imagine you can see the natural barriers you have around your mind.”
This was all sounding a bit woo-woo to Tansy, but she stuck with it. Pushing aside her healthy skepticism, she did her best to tune in to Sorcha’s voice and make like a believer.
“Your barrier might look like a wall or a fence,” Sorcha continued. “It might be metal, stone or wood. It might even be pure energy. Whatever it is, it will be unique to you—yours to hold and maintain, yours to lower if you wish.” Sorcha was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again her voice was much quieter. “Tell me when you see it.”
Tansy kept her body relaxed, timing her breathing to the dragon’s inhale and exhale as it brushed by her feet. She did her best to feel Fellescend with her emotions as well as her body, and then she went searching for her walls. To her utter amazement, she quickly came up against a high, impenetrable barrier of solid steel. “I’ve found it.”
“Good.” Sorcha’s quiet voice was full of approval. “Now I want you to concentrate on Fellescend, the feel of him and the texture of his personality. Then I want you to make a tiny door in your wall. A special door, security coded so no one but Fellescend will even know it’s there. Only he can open it, and only then if you let him. Tell me when you have the door ready.”
Tansy was so deep inside herself now that she didn’t even feel self-conscious. And she was so tuned in to Sorcha’s voice she simply did as she was told. She created a door, coded to Fellescend’s DNA, and then she cracked it open.
“He can come in now.”
She hadn’t even finished the sentence when the rush of Fellescend’s energy blew her right out of her trance. She jumped, drew her head back and looked into his sinister yellow eyes.
Pet? Pet, can you hear me?
She grinned like a crazy woman. Yes, I can hear you.
Finally. I’ve been calling and calling for weeks but you wouldn’t listen.
I’m sorry. I didn’t know I could. I wasn’t shutting you out on purpose.
He harrumphed deep in his throat. Well, you didn’t know any better but you do now. He nudged her away with his nose. Now it’s Zenbaylan’s turn. Hurry up.
Bloody hell, from excited to imperious in two sentences flat. She figured she’d just got her first taste of dragon arrogance…and dragon impatience as Zenbaylan muscled her way in.
Sorcha gave her a shit-eating grin. “Second verse, same as the first.”
Tansy rolled her eyes and flung herself over Zenbaylan’s nose, resigned to creating another chink in her defensive wall.
Zenbaylan’s touch was softer and more patient, but when Tansy made a door for her she pushed it open and just kept on coming. Steady, inexorable, making room for herself and establishing her place with an unsettling degree of permanence.
Thank you, pet. You did well.
Bloody hell. Tansy had thought Fellescend sounded imperious, but Zenbaylan could rival an Egyptian pharaoh. She turned to Sorcha. “What now?”
Sorcha’s smile was pure evil. “Now my work is done and you get to spend however long you want bonding with your new master and mistress.” She slapped Tansy on the back. “Good luck with that, sister.”
The smartass turned and left, singing an out-of-tune rendition of “Puff the Magic Dragon” so loud and off-key that it was a wonder the pale-gray paneling didn’t peel from the walls.
Fellescend’s mammoth body shifted and he brought his forearm forward, wrapping his lethal claws around Tansy. She went rigid in his grasp, her proximity to those razor-sharp talons completely freaking her out. Unfortunately her anxiety didn’t slow Fellescend’s motion. Drawing her close, he didn’t ease the pressure until they were practically nose to nose.
We need to talk, pet.
About what? She tried not to hyperventilate, but being held so firmly a breath away from the teeth of a battle dragon would make anyone pee their pants.
We want to know why you won’t let our males claim you.
What now? That wasn’t where she’d expected the conversation to go, and the topic was so surprising that her fear of the battle dragon took a backseat. Fellescend, I have no idea what you’re talking about.
He growled, a low rumble in his belly. Yes you have. You like our males, they like you, it is right that you should mate.
It’s not that simple.
Yes it is.
Tansy had often seen her Enforcers shake their heads in disgust at “dragon logic”, and she was beginning to understand why. Fellescend made it sound so simple and easy, and it probably was to his way of thinking. Unfortunately, from her side of the fence everything was complicated and messy.
She wondered if she could explain her experience in terms the dragons would understand. When I was being held against my will, bad things were done to my mind and my body. Physically I have healed but my mind and my emotions will take a bit longer. It’s not as simple as moving on because I want to. It takes time to process what happened, to sort through my experience and find the best way for me to deal with it and move forward. The kind of hurt I suffered lingers and it’s not the type of thing I can just wish away.
Zenbaylan lowered her head and rubbed her cheek against Fellescend’s claw in a movement that was clearly intended as affection by proxy. Tansy wiggled her arm free and reached up to lay her hand on the black’s smoky scales.
I like your males very much, Tansy said, the admission out before she thought better of it. But I wouldn’t be doing them or myself any favors if I pushed my recovery too far and too fast.
Very well, Zenbaylan said. You can have a week.
Tansy shook her head. It doesn’t work like that. You can’t put a time limit on healing.
Zenbaylan snorted, her breath hot enough to singe Tansy’s cheeks. A week will be long enough. If you’re not ready to move forward by then, Fellescend and I will help you.
Yes, pet, don’t worry, Fellescend rumbled in Tansy’s head. We will have you ready to mate in no time.
Bloody hell, she was being steamrolled by ten tons of scaly, well-meaning muscle and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Apparently, pet status was going to suck ass.