Andi got off the bus at her stop and immediately went to Eumie’s bakery, conveniently located right under her apartment. “Give me all the halvah or give me death,” she announced, bursting through the door. She was instantly assaulted by the smells of delicious baked goods, cinnamon, sugar, lemon, coffee. The floor was spotlessly black-and-white checkered, and the glass cases with food inside them gleamed. Behind the counter was a wall with a mural of a map to Atlantis atop a crisp blue Mediterranean Sea, and the other wall portrayed Hercules fighting the Nemean lion—although it looked to Andi like the lion was about to win.
Eumie came out of the back, somehow already carrying Andi’s morning chamomile and a pastry on a plate. “No one’s dying in here; the health inspectors wouldn’t like that.”
“Neither would I, honestly,” Andi said, slumping into her usual seat. “Although it would make my life quite a bit easier.”
“Want to talk about it?” Eumie asked, taking the seat across from her, handing over the tea and holding the pastry in reserve.
“Yes and no,” Andi said. There was really no point in trying to hide anything from them, the non-binary baker was one of Andi’s best friends—but they didn’t like Damian on principle, mostly because Eumie had some. Whereas Damian Blackwood the Third’s official non-dragon public image would only buy principles if he could sell them later for a profit.
Eumie’s eyebrows rose. “Is it man related? No, don’t bother telling me; I already know. You get sad about work, but only some dude could make you this pissed off. Unless it’s a dude at work.”
“No. It’s Damian. Again.” Andi had caught Eumie up with the intricacies of her social life since seeing him last, and they knew Andi had decided to keep Damian at arm’s length.
“What, is he like a stalker?” Eumie’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“No. He’s just intermittently persuasive.” Andi stared into her tea for answers and then sipped it. It was perfect, with two Splendas, God bless Eumie. “I just don’t want to be thinking about him. I need to be thinking about me. And Danny. And then, oh, God, Eumie, my uncle tried to set me up with someone last night.” She hung her head and groaned. “Why is all this happening to me?”
“I don’t know, girl, but your life is like my version of TV. Keep going,” Eumie said with a spin of their hand.
“So, the guy last night, at my uncle’s, was actually hot? And, into me? But—”
“You couldn’t stop thinking about Damian,” Eumie predicted.
“Yeah.”
“What is it you even like about him?”
“That’s such a good question…when I don’t even like him,” Andi said, as Eumie gave her a look. “No. He just pisses me off endlessly.”
“Okay, so when he’s not doing that, then maybe? I mean, the boy’s a looker.”
“I’m not shallow. Mostly,” Andi said, rocking back in her seat and staring off into space. “The whole saving the world thing is kind of hot,” she muttered to herself.
“By not paying a logically appropriate amount of his taxes?” Eumie asked, brow furrowing.
Andi sighed and shook her head. She couldn’t very well tell Eumie about how Damian was a dragon or how he spent his nights. Because honestly, just like he didn’t know her, she hardly knew him.
Eumie caught Andi’s hands around her mug to get her full attention. “How does he make you feel, Andi? That’s all that matters.”
“Different. Special. Exciting.”
“Well, you’re a person, not a puppy. Dig deeper.”
Andi thought back to that morning and Damian’s deep golden eyes. “Seen. Sometimes. Like…he cares, sometimes, too. When I’m around him, I get the feeling like I can trust him, Eumie, and that he’d do anything for me. And that part’s kind of scary, Eumie, honestly. I don’t want that kind of power over anyone.”
“I don’t know,” Eumie said, letting her hands go and leaning back. “I think you deserve that. It’d be about damn time. A man who actually puts you first.”
“A man who is sometimes rude and sometimes hangs up in the middle of important phone calls?” Andi asked her.
Eumie squinted. “You didn’t tell me about that.”
“I know,” Andi said, letting her shoulders sink. “It’s…just hard is all.”
Eumie watched her for a second, before pushing the pastry they’d set in front of themself over. “I think you should try this.”
Andi took a bite without hesitation, and it was delicious. More so than anything, Eumie had ever given her. The buttery flakes crisped just right in her mouth before melting and covering her entire tongue with sweet perfection. People said that they were addicted to all sorts of things: alcohol, cigarettes, and caffeine, but what Eumie’d given her was on the level of heroin, and as she swallowed the final bite of it, Andi momentarily forgot all about Damian.
Maybe even all about everything.
“Oh my God, Eumie…what was that?” Andi wanted more, even as she knew that more of it might be very, very bad for her.
Eumie beamed with quiet satisfaction. “It’s a nepenthe cake.”
The name didn’t ring any bells for Andi. “Which is?”
“A taste I’ve been trying to recreate for a few centuries now—at least that’s how it feels,” Eumie said with a snort.
Andi had wild thoughts of running behind the counter and looking for more. “Well, I think you’ve got it because that was truly amazing.”
“No…that’s the thing. I don’t.” Eumie heaved a sigh before licking a finger to smash one of the crumbs down that Andi’d left behind to pop it into their mouth. “I know it’s good. But it’s not perfect yet—not the way it tasted when I was a child. I’ve been trying and trying to get it right—my whole life, it seems—and I don’t know if I ever will.”
Andi frowned. “But it was so good.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Eumie said. “And, if I hadn’t ever had the real thing, I wouldn’t know any better…like you.” They reached out and patted her hand with affection. “I don’t think you’ve ever had the real thing before, Andi. And I don’t know if this Damian guy is the real deal…only you can know that. If you’re even looking for something real, that too.”
“I think I am?” Andi guessed, shrugging with her whole body before shaking her head. “But I don’t have anything to compare it to, Eumie. How am I supposed to know?”
“Same way I will, I suppose. You’ll be in a kitchen someday and voila. Whatever it is, when you’re with him, it’ll finally taste right.”
“Easy for you to say; I don’t like to cook,” Andi said, sticking her tongue out. Cooking reminded her too much of her mom. She raised her fingers to her temples to rub where the headache was beginning to form behind them. “I can’t tell if it’s too early or too late.”
“Time for you to get to bed, then,” Eumie said, swooping up as a customer walked in, making the bell above the door jingle. Eumie smiled down at her. “Tomorrow morning?”
“Same bat-time, same bat-channel,” Andi said, standing up.
“I’ll have the halvah ready,” Eumie promised, and gently shooed her out the door.
Andi’d finished her morning shower and gotten into bed with her phone like she always did—just in case there was news from Danny. Just at his beck and call. Andi rolled her eyes at herself. And now? Damian was back. She groaned. She hadn't even asked him why he was asking about her uncle or what he wanted with the coat he’d given her—both of which seemed like they might’ve been important things to know. Fuck if she was going to call him and ask him, though.
Why did being around him always make her feel off-balance?
It wasn’t fair.
Her phone buzzed, and she instantly looked at it. Sammy’s picture came up—the one Andi kept for blackmail purposes—her roommate as a slutty Raggedy Ann from three Halloweens ago. If she’d only shown it to David, Sammy would’ve already had a date booked.
How was last night with your uncle?
I bartered you off to a biotech nerd.
Sammy sent back a laughing emoji as Andi grinned at her phone. What was I worth, twenty camels?
Sixty. The herd’s out back. We’ve got the camel-milk market cornered now.
Okay, so, seriously, Sammy texted. Was he hot? And what’d he drive?
Yes. And…a Tesla.
Sammy instantly sent her a combination of barfing and poop emojis, and Andi laughed and laughed. Don’t rile me before bedtime! Andi warned.
Then don’t mention Teslas!
Andi rolled over, grinning at her roommate through her phone. How hot would a guy have to be to overcome a Tesla?
Depends on what else was in his garage. IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN, Sammy sent in all caps, and Andi cackled.
Okay. I didn’t get a look at his “garage,” so no promises. But I told him about you. I’ll let you know if anything comes of it.
Aww. Always looking out for me! Sammy sent, followed by three hearts.
Hey, someone in this apartment needs to get laid, Andi texted.
Tell me about it. But…it’s not our fault! We just have high standards, Sammy sent back with a wink. You’re my favorite.
You’re mine! Andi typed, and meant it, before swiping her screen off.
The bus took forever, and then he’d had to walk up to his home. Damian pushed through the front door of his castle. “Report?” he asked aloud, and Grimalkin materialized nearby.
“Everyone’s accounted for and safe! You?” the cat asked, then sniffed the air. “Diesel? And…nurse?”
“Shush,” Damian said. “Austin! Zach!” he called, letting his voice echo through the building.
The werewolves appeared, taking the stairs two by two. “There’s been another Hunter sighting at the hospital.”
“Says who?” Austin asked, eyes narrowing.
“That’s not important right now. It’s reliable intel, okay?” Damian said, brushing aside his concerns. “I want you two to go stake it out.”
“Sounds good to me…I’ve got a score to settle,” said Zach.
“Don’t! No confrontations just yet. Information only. And don’t leave one another’s side. If they’re stalking the hospitals to look for weaker shifters who’ve been injured—maybe even distant bloodlines of people who don’t know they’ve got shifter blood in them—I want to know where this is leading, and who’s in charge.”
Austin and Zach nodded curtly, and Damian strode up the stairs two by two to his room.
He’d had to follow her onto the bus. It was like he couldn’t stop himself, physically—like he needed another hit. Just to be near her, even if she was pissed.
Everything about her was irresistible to him.
Even her anger, he acknowledged with a snort. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and crossed the room to his bathroom, stepping into his shower, turning the hot water on with a sweep of his hand.
His shower was large enough for a small orgy—or even a big one, if everyone was feeling particularly friendly—and right now, it swamped him, hot water blasting him in all directions. He tried to let everything wash off of him, all of the danger from the prior night, the fighting, his dragon, the child…and Andi. Damian held onto the memory of her after everything else was gone.
He scrubbed his hands through his hair and over his body and blinked his eyes open underneath the large shiny metal plate of the showerhead and saw her reflected there. Her soft curves, barely hidden under sheets that had some sort of innocent cartoon penguin repeated on them.
Damian closed his eyes. Stop it, he commanded his dragon.
Why? it asked.
Because. She doesn’t know. Damian opened his eyes again and saw now that she’d turned toward him and was smiling at her phone. He’d never told her how he could use any reflective surface to spy on her because she was already nervous enough, and who was she smiling at like that?
It killed him that it wasn’t him.
But I want to see her, his dragon said.
She doesn’t wish to be seen. Damian kept his eyes closed and got out of the shower, and it was worse. His dragon used the bathroom mirror to summon a vision of Andi, now almost life-sized, still smiling invitingly at her phone screen.
Open the glass and step through, his dragon willed him.
Damian screwed his eyes shut. No, he growled. He turned his back to the mirror. Just thinking about her—his dragon was right, she was so close, and there seemed to be a large enough mirror on her side, so with just a little magic, he could will himself through—his desires burned him from the inside out, almost unquenchable. He carried a low-level ache for Andi all day, every day, that seemed to get worse the longer they were apart. But now, after being close enough to touch her this morning and not taking his chance, it felt like he might die. The last time that he’d felt like this was when he’d been inside her—in his dream—with his dragon at the wheel.
She is so close, his dragon tempted him.
I will not look. And neither will you.
Coward, his dragon hissed.
Hardly, Damian said, willing himself to stay strong. But speaking of cowards, what of you?
Never, his dragon challenged him.
Oh, yes. Remember? In our dream? While you were in charge? Damian pressed. When we were…. Damian flashed to the moment when his dragon had been close to coming inside Andi, before pushing him forward to take over. Why would you pursue her, only to run away?
Because, his dragon told him and then paused so long, he wondered if it was just going to ignore him and sulk, and then it finished. If she were mine…if she were my mate, it said, and then gave up on words to assault him with immersive thoughts. Immediately, he wasn’t in his bathroom anymore. He was flying in a cloud.
Wet wind rippled over every part of him, and he was in quick pursuit of something high above. He stroked his wings through the air, gaining height, gaining speed—the thrill of the chase running up and down his body like it was being circulated by his blood. There was something he wanted above him, he knew it, and he would have it. He burst through into sunlight, overshooting, seeing it there, below him.
Not an it—her—Andi in dragon form, gilded in golden scales and every bit as sinuous as he was. He couldn’t explain how he knew, but he knew. There was something about the way she slid through the air, entirely self-assured, a little bit reckless, a little bit foolhardy. As though she would fly forever without needing anyone, and then, she coyly glanced up at him, clearly taunting his dragon to catch up.
It was more than up to the task, dropping down to gain on her in fast, steady strokes, utterly intent on reaching her, the chase in him transforming into something different, a desperate longing to be joined. A few more swipes of his wings and he’d be even with her. His dragon roared his intent and dove for her as she twisted, belly to the sky, claws out as she pirouetted back.
His dragon surged forward to meet her, and Damian knew what it wanted, even as he was sure they were going to crash together and both fall to the ground. Her claws raked him as he made contact, and Damian’s dragon roared—not in pain, but in triumph. She was clutching herself to him, trusting him to fly for both of them, as their neck and tails wound tight. Anatomy lined up and parts of his dragon that he had never used or felt exposed themselves before sinking into her.
Dragons had no foreplay, knowing the other one was ready when it would let them mount, and so his dragon was already coming into her. Christ, Damian hissed, experiencing an explosion of feeling all at once, riveted in place. A sensation of release like he had never known and then…a thickening. He couldn’t release her even if he tried. His cock had flared to seal himself, locking her for his cum alone, and now they were midflight and falling.
His wings were strong, but they were supporting two great beasts’ weight, there was no way for just him to keep them both aloft. They went from soaring into a half-controlled descent to slowly spiraling toward possible destruction. Had they flown high enough together to be safe? Or had he taken her too quickly in his greed and doomed them both?
Air ripped at his wings, stretching the bands of leather between the bony struts almost to their breaking point. And just as the ground started rushing up and crashing seemed inevitable, his lock released. She flared her wings and caught herself, untwining, pulling off of his swollen member to fly away, and Damian was in his bathroom, leaning against the marble counter behind him, hands curled against its edge.
He was panting, unsure of what to make of himself now, and his all-too-human feeling body. And not for the first time, Damian wondered on the nature of the beast inside him. Was it once its own creature but now somehow trapped? Or were these intergenerational memories made of magic, a base truth that all dragons knew? He remembered the way the beast had been writing on Andi with his hands in their dream—gestures of affection or something arcane?
And that…that’s what you were afraid of? he asked it.
Yes, the beast inside him said, sounding abashed.
Damian turned around and splashed his face with cold water from his sink. In his dream, he’d had his dragon’s wings, so perhaps, it made sense for the beast to be afraid of its own massive cock. But now that his mirror was just a mirror and his dragon wasn’t tempting him anymore, he could see himself in it clearly. He had the face of a man who had spent too much of his life angry, and all of his muscles, sinews, and bone were there just to hide the temperamental monster inside.
It was a dream, he told his dragon. They’d both known it at the time. No matter how much they’d enjoyed it, it wasn’t real.
Dreams can be prophetic, his dragon intoned.
Not for normal humans. But Damian knew he wasn’t normal. And as much as he would give to have hope of being with Andi again, he would give her up if its cost was her being in the Realms.
She can never go there. He’d watched it destroy his mother, and it’d almost destroyed him. Do you hear me? Never.
And even his dragon, who adored the Realms because of the power he was able to freely wield there, rumbled without hesitation: Of course not! She is... His dragon paused to consider things further. Beautiful…but without scales.
Finally, something they could both agree on. Damian stepped back and grabbed a towel, feeling fractionally relaxed for the first time that day.