Chapter Seven

Fiona

The city of Galveston, Texas—September, 1900

I couldn't help butbe awestruck. So much of the world had changed. Josef had told me of huge moving beasts called trains and boats that traveled with neither oar nor sail but powered by steam and coal. He told me of the telegraph and the telephone and of newspapers, too.

Then he had given my daughter and me pale dresses made from soft cotton and heavy soles called shoes with laces and hooks. After we trudged through a town lit with lights whose flames flickered without fire, I was mesmerized by the trolley, which was far bigger than any cart and needed no horse to move. Josef brought us to Mrs. Jenkens, a portly woman whose wooden home was raised up on stilts above the sandy shore.

Mrs. Jenkens and Josef had briefly spoken in a cooking room called the kitchen. After they'd returned, Mrs. Jenkens's eyes were red and swollen. Despair and grief clung to the woman's heavy frame like a shroud. She bade us all to sit as she handed us clear goblets of a heavenly drink called lemonade.

When Josef took his leave, promising he'd call on the morrow, I tried my best to stifle my fear. I knew I needed to be strong and not just for myself.

I stole a sideways glance at Safina, still in awe at the changes in my daughter. As with most dragon princesses, Safina had been slow to bloom, though bloom she had while in our cocoon. Whereas before she had been awkward with long, lean legs and the chest of a lad, she'd matured into a beautiful young woman with soft curves, a mass of flaming red hair, and a dazzling smile. Those eyes were pale blue, just like her father's. I swallowed a lump of regret, pushing my sorrow to the recesses of my mind. It would do no good to think of Duncan now.

"I will have you both know I am a Christian woman," Mrs. Jenkens said as she heaved her body onto a cushioned bench.

"Of course." I nodded at the buxom matron while I sipped my drink.

We sat facing each other on furniture draped in embroidered satin in a room Mrs. Jenkens had referred to as the parlor, candlelight flickering across the walls which were covered in flower murals. Much of the room was decorated with fine vases and glass cabinets. Josef had said Mrs. Jenkens was a commoner, yet I felt as if I was seated in a house of royalty. I wondered if these Americans, as Josef had called them, appreciated the luxuries that time and prosperity had afforded them.

"This is a family establishment," Mrs. Jenkens continued, wagging a finger at us. Then she pointed toward the stairwell with railings and steps in a rich mahogany. "I expect everyone to be tucked in bed by nine o'clock. And no male visitors for either of you."

Safina, seemingly unperturbed, swallowed her lemonade in large gulps before dragging her sleeve across her lips. I scowled at my daughter for her ill manners, though it was my fault for never teaching her better.

"Trust me." I smiled sweetly at Mrs. Jenkens. "You need not worry about that."

Mrs. Jenkens uncrossed her arms and reached for her lemonade. She held her goblet for a long moment, staring down at the frothy yellow drink. Heavy lines framed her red-rimmed eyes. "Of course, Se?or Cortez is always welcome to visit. Like I said before, I'm a God-fearing woman. I believe in angels and miracles... and devils, too."

I was nearly compelled to look away when the old woman shot me a pointed look.

"Se?or Cortez healed my granddaughter, Abby, when she was sick last winter." Mrs. Jenkens's voice broke, and she covered her mouth with one hand.

I said nothing, allowing the woman time to regain her composure. Seemingly oblivious to the old woman's turmoil, Safina belched into her palm before tapping an annoying staccato on the rim of her goblet. I gently nudged my daughter before turning my attention back to the old woman.

Mrs. Jenkens wiped her moist eyes. "Abby's sainted mother and father, God rest their souls, died of yellow fever when Abby was just a tot. I have raised her since then. This child has been my whole world."

I nodded as a pang pierced my heart. "I understand." For Safina had been my whole world, too, the one thing Duncan and I had done right, and the only reason I didn't regret our star-crossed night of passion. I have taken extreme measures to keep Safina safe, not just from the mortal world but from the man who'd sired her.

Mrs. Jenkens set her lemonade on an ornate wooden stand beside her. With a rigid back and a glint of determination in her eyes, she turned to me. "Se?or Cortez said you're a healer, too. Said your healing powers are far stronger than his."

I shook my head as a knot of dread settled in my stomach. "I have not healed anyone in a long while."

The old woman clenched her fists in her lap and leaned toward me. "Se?or Cortez told me you and your child were robbed on the journey from Scotland. Said you came to America with nothing."

I swallowed. "Aye, 'tis true." That was the lie Josef had concocted. Mrs. Jenkens would hardly believe we had fled to warmer waters almost five hundred years ago and have been sleeping beneath the sea ever since. I didn't fear Mrs. Jenkens would doubt Josef's fictional story. The old woman was in need and willing to believe anything, so long as I helped her.

Mrs. Jenkens shifted in her seat, but her hard gaze didn't waver. If anything, she looked even more determined. "I have a bedroom facing the pier. Rents for eleven dollars a month. I'd give it to you for free, plus meals, if you could heal my Abby."

I arched a brow. "She is unwell?"

The old woman abruptly stood and paced across the parlor. She wrapped herself in a hug while staring out the window. "She was playing with friends at the pier when she fell." Mrs. Jenkens's voice broke, and it took several interminable moments for her to regain her composure. "It has been three days. She barely wakes and mumbles words that make no sense. Sometimes she calls for her mama and papa." She ended on a sob, covering her face with her hands.

The woman's keen suffering was palpable, her sorrow radiating across the room.

When Safina trembled beside me, I placed a calming hand on her arm. Peace, daughter. All will be well, I spoke in thought before rising and bridging the short distance between me and Mrs. Jenkens.

The old woman looked at me with pleading eyes. "Please," she begged. "Please save my Abby."

I heaved a resonant sigh and looked out the window. Though the sun had long set, my dragon-touched eyes had no problem seeing in the darkness as moonlight bathed the waves in an ethereal glow. Several young men frolicked in the water, splashing each other and laughing merrily. An amorous couple strolled along the shoreline, arm in arm, with eyes for none but each other. These people of Galveston, they seemed not as austere as the mortals I'd encountered in the old world. Perhaps humans had changed. But did I dare to hope they'd be more accepting of dragonkind?

I turned back to Mrs. Jenkens. "I understand you are a God-fearing woman. Where we come from, many people looked upon my healing powers as devil's magic."

Mrs. Jenkens nodded solemnly as she dabbed her eyes with an embroidered cloth. "I know that, and some here would, too. Se?or Cortez says you're not a witch, and I trust him."

The tension that had coiled around my spine eased ever so slightly. Perhaps I could count on a few friends in this new world. Besides, I realized I'd have no choice but to save the girl. I needed Mrs. Jenkens's help, at least until after Josef had severed my bond with Duncan. This woman and her granddaughter could teach Safina and me how to adapt to their customs. Much had changed since we'd gone to slumber.

"Where is Abby?" I asked.

"Sealy Hospital." The woman's bottom lip trembled. "The doctor says she may never wake."

I leveled Mrs. Jenkens with a stern look. "If I heal your granddaughter, do I have your word that you will tell no one of my powers?"

Mrs. Jenkens's eyes lit up as she raised one hand while crossing her heart with the other. "Cross my heart, and may the Good Lord strike me down if I do."

My shoulders fell as reality struck me. There was no turning back once I exposed my powers to these mortals. "Take me to her. I will see what I can do."

The palpable tension which thrummed off the old woman's flesh seemed to slowly dissipate as she released a shaky breath. "Visiting hours are over for the day, but after breakfast tomorrow, we will go see my Abby." She flashed each of us a tired smile. "You both look road weary."

If she only knew. "Indeed." I nodded. "We are."

Mrs. Jenkens clasped her hands in front of her. "I'll run your bathwater and fix you hot meals. You and your daughter are about my Abby's size. I'll get you both clean clothes."

"Thank you." I smiled. "You are too kind." I shot Safina an expectant look, and she offered her thanks as well.

Mrs. Jenkens hurried to the opposite end of the parlor. She paused at the threshold, her wide, watery gaze boring into me. "You must heal my Abby. Without her, I've got no reason, no reason at all...."

I held up a silencing palm. "Please, Mrs. Jenkens. Do not fret. Come the morrow, I will heal the child."

Mrs. Jenkens wiped her tear-stained cheeks while managing a smile. "Thank you, Fiona. An angel from heaven, you are. The Lord has sent you here for a reason, I just know it."

Aye, I thought to myself. I had come for a reason, though I would not voice aloud that my purpose here was far different from what Mrs. Jenkens had in mind.

* * *

Fiona

I WOKE WITH A START. My chest heaved and my limbs shook. My sweat-drenched hair and shift clung to my flushed skin. It had been so long since I'd dreamed of the night I had fallen in love with MacQuoid. The night we had conceived Safina. Dreams of the coupling we'd shared could only mean one thing: our souls had awakened. MacQuoid would soon be aware I was no longer in slumber. He would search for me like a moth drawn to a flame. Our need for one another was part of our connection.

This time, I would not flee. I would no longer fight the invisible tether that bound us. I would let him come to me. I would be waiting for him, and I would use the speaker to sever our bond for good.

Careful not to disturb Safina, I pushed aside the thin sheet shielding us from the night air and rose from our soft bed. I knelt on a padded bench and slid open the window.

I heaved a sigh of relief as the salty air cooled my flesh. With my heightened dragon senses, I inhaled deeply the smell of my surroundings: seaweed drying out along the shoreline, pungent shrimp being unloaded on the docks, the scent of freshly chopped wood, and the fragrant aroma of baking bread. Though the sun had yet to peek over the horizon, dawn must be approaching.

On this new day, I would honor my word and heal the Jenkens child. Then Josef and I would devise a way to sever my bond with MacQuoid.

I didn't know the cost of unleashing such dark magic, and I no longer cared. All that mattered was that I would finally be rid of this bond that tethered me to him, a tempest of emotions that threatened to shatter my very sanity.

* * *

Duncan

New York City—September, 1900

"YOUR COFFEE AND MORNINGpaper, sir."

After the buxom maid set the tray on my expansive mahogany desk, she curtsied low, wanting me to salivate over her bounteous breasts, no doubt.

I didn't know how many times I'd have to thwart her advances before I would be forced to terminate her employment. I was growing ever more tired of my servants' lack of propriety. With each passing century, they seemed to grow more bold.

"Thank you, Agnes," I said with a purposely disinterested slur while keeping my gaze on the index of the paper. I quickly scanned the headlines, breathing a sigh of relief that no dragon sightings had been reported.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, thank you," I said tersely as my eyes caught hers from over the rim of the paper.

For the first time I noticed she was wearing heavy face paints. Her eyelashes were thick with black stuff, and it looked as if her pudgy cheeks had been smeared with the pox.

"Are you sure?" she cooed, batting her eyelashes.

I fixed her with a cool expression before waving her away. "I require nothing more from you."

She turned in a huff and stormed out of the room. The girl was becoming bothersome. I reminded myself I'd have to look for new help soon. But for now, I had more pressing matters.

Fortunately, nothing much of interest was in The Times other than a tropical storm nearing Puerto Rico. How long before the dragoness would make herself known? How long before she or the child exposed their true nature to mortals? The world now was far more hostile than the world into which my child had been born. Swords and spears had been replaced by guns and cannons. Next time, the dragons would not make an easy escape from those who wished to do them harm. I only hoped I reached my mate and child first.

I lifted the porcelain saucer of coffee, black and strong, as I preferred it. I tried to take a sip, but my hand trembled, and the steaming liquid sloshed and burned my fingers. I slowly lowered the cup. I hadn't been able to regain my composure since waking this morning. I had no idea how many years it had been since I'd dreamed of that fateful night when I'd made love to Fiona, but for the first time in centuries, her lithe form chased away my recurring nightmares as we made love beneath the light of the full moon.

The dream had felt so very real, and I wanted nothing more than to recapture the magic from the night I'd held her in my arms. The bond that tethered me to my dragon mate must have awakened. But how? Whatever magic she had used to conceal herself was no more.

I stood and walked across the padded Persian carpet to the end of my study, where rows upon rows of ancient tomes filled the shelves. I'd found some real treasures over these past couple hundred years, stories that would now be classified as myths, but I knew were not. The heavy globe I'd purchased during one of my many trips to Europe sat beside a richly inlaid armoire. I sat down and spun the axis of the globe with one hand while tracing a line across it with the other, allowing my senses to lead the way.

I stilled when the globe had come to a stop along the Texas coast. How could this be? The last I'd heard of the dragon mother and child, they'd been in England. But my instinct had never been wrong before. I'd always been forced to pursue them on horseback, sometimes taking weeks or even months to reach them, but after recent industrial advances, the horse was no longer my only means of transportation. This time I would travel by train. It could take me under a week to reach Texas.

Whether Fiona's presence there was an accident, or if the dragoness finally wished for me to find her, I was uncertain. One thing I did know: I would begin my quest again, and this time nothing would keep me from finding my mate and child.