THE next morning, Bethany stood in front of the fountain, ready to nail her scrubbing spell to the wall.
The algae-infested fountain boiled slimy gas eruptions into the air like it knew she was coming for it, but she stood farther back this time. If her obituary read, “Murdered by Stinky, Dirty Water,” she would literally die of embarrassment.
Yes, literally.
Yes, Bethany had thought that, and she meant it.
Literally.
Because sometimes witches came back as liches if the moon and spells were right, and then they had to die again.
Usually of embarrassment because of something literally like this.
Bethany resolved that such a mortifying thing was not going to happen to her.
So, she had her spellcasting notes, her conjuring paper and inks, and a shot of liquid courage in her orange juice that morning.
After all, her boss wasn’t going to be around. No one was going to know if she was just the slightest bit tipsy on the job.
Bethany sucked in her breath, raised her ink brush, and dipped it in the pot of black ink.
Spirals and runes took shape on the paper as she worked, muttering and singing the spells under her breath. The ink pots dipped and were hovering where she needed them when she needed a new color of ink.
The incantation formed. The power rose within her and funneled onto the paper.
She could do this. It was all just attitude. Ember was totally right.
A positive mindset was all she needed.
She believed that she could make the strongest, suckiest, most voracious algae-eating plecostomus fish in the history of algae-eaters to eat that algae to death.
She believed it.
In apparitional spellcasting, you had to name what you wanted because names were powerful magic.
Rhyming the word plecostomus hadn’t been easy, but she’d worked in “Plecostomus, come flock to us, if it pleases you more,” to draw the algae-sucking fish out of the magical ether.
Apparitions are notorious sticklers for politeness, so formal language is customary in spells.
“Look, madam. See, sir. Pence and pennies for your trouble, pounds and dollars for your time.” She drew copper circles on the paper, then stylized loops to symbolize mounds of gold, all of them contained within a circle of arcane runes. “Take shape, acquire form, if you hear my rhyme.”
The spell was done. The runes looked right.
Confidence infused her, and she stood straighter as she released the magic from her body and soul with a great rush of breath.
The paper lifted off from her fingertips, and everything looked good.
It floated out to the middle of the fountain.
Bethany could have sworn that coagulated lumps in the sludge followed the progress of the paper drifting through the air.
She held her hands aloft, feeding the spell from her power, drawing magic from the ether and the ley lines of the Earth and Cosmos, imbuing the spell with every ounce of magical strength she had.
She was going to need another fortified orange juice after this. Maybe a protein bar. Or carbo-loading.
But these algae-suckers were going to be hungry and huge, and they were going to clean this murderous fountain until it was as shiny as a freaking crystal orb.
The incantation paper spun over the fountain, drawing beams of magic from the sky and ground, and formed a sphere.
Yes, it was working.
Magic flowed through Bethany.
Quite a lot of magic.
A really huge amount of magic surged from the ground and scraped the ether, generating enormous bolts of energy.
No.
No, the spell was getting too big.
The spinning orb shivered and spun above the fountain as the vast quantities of magic poured into it.
Bethany planted her feet and leaned against the hurricane, trying to rein the spell in before it did something she hadn’t planned.
The orb flung itself apart into six gigantic forms.
Long, slithering bodies glistened in the desert sunlight as they dropped into the grotesque water with sloppy splashes.
Bethany gasped.
Those were not plecostomus fish.
They weren’t fish at all.
One of them reared its enormous, red-scaled head out of the fountain’s pool and grinned at her with a mouthful of white, terrifying fangs.
Those were sea serpents.
Bethany had conjured sea serpents.
A small part of her brain was pretty darn impressed with the fact that she’d conjured a legendary-class apparition, but a much larger part of her brain was freaking out because there were sea monsters in the casino’s fountain.
And the angel investors were due to arrive in two weeks.
She had to get the sea monsters out of the fountain before Math saw them. She had to send them back to the ether and summon some plecostomus algae-eaters tomorrow. There was no way she would have enough magic in her for another spell today.
Bethany flipped open her conjuring pad and tried drawing a new spell, but the ink pots had run dry, a metaphor for the fact that she’d drained herself conjuring sea serpents.
A bright green serpent flung itself out of the water, breaching like a whale, and splashed down into the slimy ooze with a slurp.
Bethany stepped back.
A scarlet serpent leaped into the air and dove after the green one, its maw gaping open, teeth shining in the sunlight. Mossy tendrils hung from the row of ebony spines running down its back.
The two serpents coiled around each other, fighting and roaring. Their screams blasted through the air.
“No!” Bethany ran toward the fountain, hands outstretched. “No, no! Stop fighting! No fighting!”
The sea monsters writhed in the slimy pond, struggling mightily.
“Stop that!” she shouted at them.
Two more serpents lunged into the fray, and the other two swam around the melee, hissing and looking for an opening to attack the others.
Bethany jumped up on one of the fountain’s retaining walls and yelled, “I said, stop that!”
Feeble sparks shot from her palms.
And hit the sea monsters.
Which got their attention.
They flinched and turned toward her—eyes rolling, teeth flashing and snapping—and swam toward her.
“Holy magic!” She jumped off the concrete wall and ran.
They couldn’t get out of the water. They were sea serpents. If she ran beyond their reach, she would be safe.
Bethany poured all her energy into her legs and sprinted as fast as she could.
Splashing slapped the concrete behind her.
Bethany chanced a look over her shoulder.
The sea serpents had crawled out of the fountain and were rolling over the cement, using their coils and tails like tanks to chase her.
She leaned forward and ran, yelling “Math!”
The serpents’ scales crunched on the cement, grinding together with a mechanical shriek as they rolled. Their red eyes glared as they pursued.
They were gaining on her, fast.
Bethany screamed, “Math! Help me!” and ran as fast as she could, pistoning her legs and arms.
Ahead of her, Math was sprinting out of the casino doors. His eyes widened as he looked past her. “Bethany! Get down! Dive!”
Bethany jumped for the ground, rolling.
Math leaped into the air, his body snapping apart.
An enormous, golden dragon took his place and flew over her, its wings sparkling and beating the air.
Bethany tumbled on the cement and skidded to a stop. She looked back.
The nearest sea monster reached for her with a long, floppy tentacle. The tip of it lashed her ankle, stinging her like a jellyfish. “Ouch!”
The gold dragon landed between her and the serpent, flapping its wings and towering over the sea monsters, who cowered. Its black-gold talons sliced the jellyfish arm still flipping at Bethany and trying to sting her again as she scrambled backward. The dismembered limb writhed on the cement.
The golden dragon trumpeted an enormous cacophony of sound like an elephant and a choir of angels, screaming.
The sea monsters reared, blown back by the roar.
The golden dragon released a precise stream of fire as narrow as a laser beam, swiping across the serpents. Where the fire struck their flailing bodies, steam hissed into the air and smelled like burnt fish.
The serpents slithered back into the fountain as fast as their coils could carry them, slipping back into the muck with nary a ripple.
The gold dragon roared again, his voice reverberating from the cement and glass casinos around them.
Outside on the sidewalk, naturals strolled by with a disinterested glance at the noise because their minds would not process a golden dragon battling sea serpents on the Las Vegas Strip. A few wolfie types and a day-going vampire paused to watch the dragon before they looked around themselves and melted back into the pedestrian pace.
The gold dragon folded its wings against its back and twisted, looking back at her.
Dragons ate young maidens, didn’t they?
The way that Math talked about his dragon made it sound like something other, something wild and unconstrained, not civilized like the man he was.
Maybe Bethany should run.
And yet—
And yet this was Math Draco, the guy who thought making a move was patting a bed, who had given her a keycard to his room rather than drag her inside, and who had said before he kissed her that if she told him to, he would back up and walk away.
Math wouldn’t hurt her.
Bethany rose to her knees, then struggled to her feet, keeping her weight off the one that the sea serpent’s tentacle had stung.
The wind whipped her dark hair around her head as she watched the dragon pad in a circle to turn and face her, his giant, eagle-taloned feet scraping the cement.
Harsh sunlight gleamed on his skin, throwing shards of mirror-glare on the casino’s white façade.
The dragon stalked toward her, its reptilian body swaying as it moved, beautiful and terrifying.
Bethany stood her ground, hoping Math’s intelligence controlled the dragon that towered above her, blotting out the sun. Its cool shadow spread over the wide courtyard and stretched toward the casino, protecting her skin from the harsh sunlight.
The dragon bent his long neck, peering down at her with his glittering, golden eyes.
Bethany’s legs trembled.
Maybe she should have run away when she’d had the chance.
His head lowered toward her, trailing wisps of smoke from his nostrils.
This was it. Bethany was going to be dragon lunch.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Her muscles clenched, and she hoped that getting chewed wouldn’t hurt too much.
Still a better death than being gassed by rogue algae slime. Less stinky.
Sunlight warmed her face.
Bethany opened her eyes.
The dragon had laid its head on the cement beside her, stretched out. His legs were bent where he was crouching. He’d rolled his head to the side to watch her.
His skull was the size of an SUV.
Surviving another day seemed like a great idea, and she was glad it had happened.
His gigantic head had softly overlapping scales, and his beaded skin was the glittering metal of Math’s eyes.
She reached her arm straight out from her shoulder, settled her hand on his forehead, and stroked his scales.
Yes, beaded skin. Her first impression had been correct. The dragon wasn’t scaly or slimy, but his beaded skin was warm to her touch.
Tendrils of fire escaped his lips, curling in the warm sunlight. She kept her arm back from those, though the golden fire appeared magical, not ordinary.
Her fingers wandered over his face and traced his pale horns that curved back over his head and neck. Hard muscle wrapped his neck and shoulders under his steel-woven skin. He was a machine built for flight and war.
Bethany touched him with both hands, stroking him. “You are beautiful, aren’t you?”
He was still watching her, though his eyelids drooped when she said that.
Beyond his neck, his strong, lean body looked more like a well-balanced Komodo dragon than a pear-shaped Tyrannosaur, and his wings fit tightly against his spine and tail. Clear crystals like diamonds encrusted the delicate bones of his wings and lined his spine between them.
She whispered, “I never realized dragons were so beautiful.”
The dragon relaxed, his body settling closer to the ground, and his eyes closed.
He flickered out of existence.
She jumped back. “Math?”
Math Draco, the man, was crouched on the cement, holding himself on his fingertips and toes. His tanned skin gleamed in the sun, not unlike his dragon’s skin.
But there was a whole lot of skin.
Because he was naked.
Bethany got an eyeful of his strong, muscular shoulders and back that tapered to his slim waist, ripped thighs and striated calves, and dimples on the small of his back. A vibrant black and gold tattoo marked his right shoulder and curled down his back and around his ribs. When she craned her neck, she could see it was a winged, snake-like dragon.
His skin was smooth, what she could see of him, and her fingers reached toward his bare shoulder.
Oh my God. Touching Math when he was a dragon was one thing. Molesting him when he was a vulnerable, nude man was something else altogether.
She snatched her hand back and looked toward the casino, where a few other employees had gathered. One woman started to clap slowly.
Bethany did not want all those people staring at Math. He should be protected. He should be sheltered from their raking gazes.
She kept her eyes averted and flicked her fingers, flinging magical clothes at him from the ether.
The cloth wrapped around his body, forming into slim-fitting denim jeans, a white shirt that hugged his wide chest and flat belly, and loafers for his feet.
The cement was hot. The scalding sidewalk probably had felt good to a fire-breathing dragon, but it would be ouchy to human skin. So, loafers.
Math sat back on his heels and examined the shirt she’d conjured for him. “Cool. Thanks!”
She was pretty surprised her spell had worked. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad there was enough magic left in my battery to produce them.”
Math tugged at the shirt’s open collar. “I cannot express how much I appreciate these.”
“It’s nothing. Magical inanimate objects are easy. Most witches can poof them up. They aren’t going to last, though.”
His eyebrows dipped. “Do I need to get back to my suite right away?”
“Oh, no. They’re stable for a while. When you take them off, it’ll trigger the counterspell, and they’ll disintegrate back into the ether. Or midnight. Conjuring spells often end at midnight. You know, pumpkins into carriages and mice into horses? Midnight.”
“I appreciate it. Shifting back to human form is the worst part of shifting. When I shift to dragon mode, it shreds my clothes. When I turn back, I’m—well, you saw what happened.”
Oh, heck, yeah, she had. She’d seen six feet and six inches of glorious manflesh crouching at her feet, broad and strong and ripped in all the right ways.
Too bad his legs had been strategically positioned when he’d transformed back. Bethany suspected she could have seen quite a bit more.
She looked back over to the casino, where the crowd was dispersing. “I’m really sorry,” she said, unable to look at him in her abject shame. “I put sea monsters in the fountain.”
“Yeah,” Math said, staring back at the fountain, though the sludge seemed to be just sloshing slightly in the pool. “That might be a problem when the angel investors come.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Accidents happen. I’m more concerned with the deliberate malfeasance and outright theft occurring on the top floor of this place. Come on. Let’s get some lunch.”
Her stomach rumbled at the thought of lunch. “But we can’t just leave six hungry sea monsters in the fountain. What if they eat someone?”
Math shrugged. “They aren’t going to eat anyone.”
“They might. Evidently, they can get out of the fountain and slither around.”
“Nah. They’ll stay in there now. They won’t bother anyone.”
“They could eat people or bite them or sting them with those jellyfish tentacles. Their stings really hurt.”
His head whipped around, dark hair moving, and he looked down at her. “Did one of those jerks sting you?”
“While I was running.” She lifted her trouser leg, revealing an angry burn that wrapped her ankle and up her shin. When the air hit the wound, worse pain lanced into her muscles and skin. Red lines were spreading from the edges into her surrounding flesh. “It’ll be okay, though. Right?”
“Jeez, Bethany.” He whipped her up into his strong arms again and carried her over to a tall sculpture in the shade of the casino, setting her down on the wall around it. “Let me see.”
“It’s fine. I’ll call my friend Willow. She can whip up a potion to heal that.” Assuming Willow’s potion worked like it was supposed to, rather than turn Bethany’s foot into an enormous raven’s claw. Again.
Math sat beside her and lifted her leg in his hands, carefully peeling her pant leg back to expose the raw flesh.
Bethany leaned back on her hands, balancing because he was holding her leg in the air. “Um, don’t touch it, okay? It kind of hurts.”
He glanced at her out of the corners of his eyes. “Dragons don’t have much magic other than the shifting thing, but there are a few things we can do.”
Yeah, she’d heard the stories. They were specific and explicit. “Oh? Like what?”
Still gazing into her eyes, Math lifted her leg to his lips and kissed her ankle.
Good thing Bethany had shaved her legs that morning. Otherwise, Math would’ve gotten a mouthful of shin bristle.
Soothing energy flowed over her skin and sank into her flesh. The wound rippled and closed, healing with clean, new skin and only the faintest of scars.
She said, “That feels so much better. You’re a healer?”
“Not with anything else. Sea serpents are a type of dragon. I can neutralize their venom.”
He examined her leg as the skin healed, watching it turn pink and smooth. A few faint lines marked where the wound had been.
One lash near her knee had formed an open sore.
He rolled her trouser leg up farther, lifted her leg, and brushed his lips over that spot, the skin up by her knee, on the inside of her leg, where her skin was maybe two inches from being classified as her thigh.
He opened his eyes and looked at her, his lips still almost caressing the inside of her thigh.
Bethany held his gaze, her lips open, and she couldn’t think of a word to say, certainly nothing like Stop or Don’t. Those words seemed to have entirely fled from her vocabulary.
Math raised his head, still staring into her eyes. His irises were about half sparkling gold.
His lips were still an inch from her knee.
The wound was gone.
She didn’t say a word, even though they were sitting out in the middle of a courtyard in the shadow of an enormous casino, just a dozen yards from where a crowd was rushing by on the Las Vegas Strip.
Math finally shook his head a little and lowered her leg. “I suppose I can put this down now.”
“Yep, it seems to be entirely healed. We could probably stand up, if we wanted to, and go do something else. Probably. If we wanted to.” Dammit, she was blathering.
“Yes, that would probably be the best option. I have meetings scheduled, and you probably have an agenda to see to.”
“Yeah, that’s what should probably happen. We should go to our meetings and agendas.” Her prattle made no sense. She should stop talking.
Math hadn’t let go of her ankle, and she hadn’t pulled away.
He ran his fingers up her calf, sending shivers farther up her leg. “It feels better now, right?”
“That feels great. I mean, it’s totally healed up. Thank you. For healing it. With your magic anti-venom mouth. Thanks.”
Bethany prayed to all the gods of magic for a case of sudden-onset laryngitis.
“My pleasure.” His voice had dropped an octave.
“Mine, too.”
Or the end of the world. Anything to make her stop talking.
Math looked over at her and lowered her leg to his lap. “We should probably get back to work.”
“Yeah. Probably.” She dragged her leg over his knees and to the ground, feeling the friction of their trousers against her leg. “I am really sorry about the sea monsters.”
He shrugged. “We’ll figure out how to get rid of them and the algae. We have two weeks until the angel investors get here. It’s not like they’re going to be here in a few days. In the meantime, those serpents aren’t going to bother anyone.”
“They have big teeth and jellyfish tentacles,” she said. “I still worry that they might eat a person or two.”
He smiled, though it seemed a little rueful or embarrassed. “Nah. I told them not to.”
She was impressed. “I guess it makes sense that you speak dragon.”
“It’s a little more than that,” he said. “I’ve been told I’m kind of an alpha dragon.”
“Is it because you’re so big? You can threaten to beat them up or eat them?”
He laughed. “Not really. It’s not the size of the dragon in the fight. It’s the size of the fight in the dragon. Queen Elizabeth is a tiny, little reptile, but she’s an alpha. When she roars, dragons listen. But let’s eat some lunch. I’m starving. Transforming makes me hungry.”
“I’ll bet. It looked like a lot of effort.”
“Thanks for the clothes again. That trick is handy. Public nudity can be a problem for shifters. I should keep you with me.”
Bethany would like that very much, but she didn’t say anything.
Math looked startled. “I mean, not locked up in my lair or anything. Because I’m a dragon. So, I might steal a beautiful woman away and lock her in my lair. But I wouldn’t say that because that would be an inappropriate thing to say at work. And I wouldn’t want to offend you.” He looked up at the cloudless expanse of blue sky above the towering casinos. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
She turned to him and considered how to phrase her reply. “What if I wasn’t offended?”
He faced her and looked down at her from his tall, tall height. “Then whatever I said wouldn’t be a problem.”
Bethany smiled up at him, really hoping this conversation didn’t go south. “So, you think I’m a beautiful woman?”
“I thought you were beautiful the moment I saw you in the HR office, but that’s not something I could say then.”
“Do you still think so?” Yeah, she knew she was fishing.
He smiled and smoothed a lock of her dark hair from her ear to her shoulder. “I can’t take my eyes off of you.”
She smiled up at him some more, really putting her eyes into it. “Do you really have a dragon lair?”
“Maybe.” His voice had lowered to a gravelly growl again.
“Do you steal beautiful women away and lock them up in your lair?”
“Would you like to see my lair? Or at least my penthouse suite again?”
Yep, he was definitely inviting her up. “Maybe.”
“How about we have supper tonight and discuss alpha dragons stealing you away to lairs and anything else that comes to mind?”
“I’d like that,” she said.
He smiled. “I’ll clear my calendar for the evening.”