Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

" I t doesn't necessarily refer to Mick," I stated when I could breathe again. I felt my Beneath goddess powers rising, as they liked to do when I was distressed. I tried to control my trepidation so I wouldn't hurt anyone, but it wasn't easy. Nitis had just told me I was nurturing the means to destroy the man I loved.

Nitis regarded me without blinking. "Do you know any other dragon lords?"

I scowled at him. "Doesn't mean they aren't out there. Anyway, how do you know Mick is one? And how do you know about the legend? You're not a dragon. Where did this story come from?"

"It is old." Nitis smiled. "Like me."

"Winged creatures keep track of each other," Grandmother said with a look of disapprobation at Nitis. "Crows. Hawks. Firewalkers."

She'd never mentioned this before, though it explained how she always knew what was going on at my hotel .

"If it does mean Mick, what will you do, Janet?" Nitis asked quietly.

I sat in silence because I had no idea.

Legends aren't necessarily predictions of the future any more than they are accurate portrayals of the past. For instance, there are all kinds of legends in Northern Arizona that are complete bullshit—made up by white journalists in the early twentieth century to attract tourists to certain destinations. The stories, such as the one about the Apaches massacred at Two Guns, were printed and reprinted, without anyone verifying them or turning up any archeological evidence to support them, until the tales were considered history.

Dragons collected plenty of lore, Mick had told me. Some of it true, some of it invented. Even the dragon council made up things to keep dragons in line.

I had no way of knowing whether Nitis's claim was true, or if he had some ulterior motive for telling me this tale and worrying me. Grandmother trusted him—or he'd not be sitting in her house—but that didn't mean I fully believed him.

However, whether or not Nitis told the truth, did Drake believe the legend? Had he given me the egg to guard because he thought he could someday use the kid to take out Mick? Or because he'd truly loved Cesnia and didn't care what legends the little dragon had to deal with?

My thoughts poured forth. "Even if Drake doesn't know the legend or believe it, I'll bet Bancroft does."

"Bancroft is always out for his own power," Nitis informed me. "Whatever his motivation in laying hands on the egg, it will be to benefit himself."

"No kidding." I'd once saved Bancroft's life, but that had gained me only so many points with him. "The dragon council let Mick out of his death sentence because of Mick's high status. I'm willing to believe Bancroft wants to raise this dragon as a weapon against him. Not Bancroft's fault if a more powerful dragon kills Mick, right?"

I shivered as I said the words. I didn't want anyone killing Mick, or plotting it, or even thinking about it.

"You believe the one called Drake does not want to rid himself of Mick?" Grandmother asked. "They have long been rivals, have they not?"

"Drakey wouldn't do that," came an aggrieved voice.

I swung around as Gabrielle, who could move as silently as mist when she wanted to, came toward me through the living room. Dad and Gina didn't look surprised to see her, so she must have used the front door in the conventional way instead of simply appearing.

There was no sign of the basketball team and no sign of the SUV either, by which I concluded it had been returned to the school along with the team.

"How can you be sure?" I demanded of Gabrielle. "Grandmother's right—Drake has never liked Mick."

"Because Drakey has a little thing called integrity." Gabrielle put her hands on her sweatpants-clad hips. She managed to look as svelte and sexy in workout cloths as she did in tight-fitting dresses or low-slung jeans. "If Drake wanted to fight Mick to the death, he'd say so, and do it. He wouldn't come up with weird schemes for raising a dragon to hate Mick and then kill him. Besides, I'm guessing that would take a very long time."

Dragons lived for centuries—years to us was like a week for them. But Gabrielle had a point.

"It is out of character for Drake," I admitted. "And I don't remember telling you all about Drake, the egg, or the legend, which I'm just now learning of."

Gabrielle sent me a pitying look. "If you want to hide a dragon egg from me, you'll need something more concealing than a bowling bag. I heard about the legend when this guy told you. This house doesn't have very thick windows." She waved at Nitis. "Hi, by the way. I'm Gabrielle, Janet's obnoxious little sister."

"So I have heard." Nitis gave her a nod. "Not about the obnoxious part, but that you are very powerful."

"Ooh." Gabrielle shot Grandmother a wink. "I like him. Where did you find him?"

Grandmother's never-ceasing frown deepened. "Do not be rude, Gabrielle. I believe the trash has been piling up in the kitchen bin since you have been out with your basketball team."

Gabrielle's sunny expression deserted her. She scowled, then heaved a long sigh of resignation. "She means Gabrielle, stop butting in. I'll take care of it." She trudged to the kitchen, where I heard bags rattling and the trash can lid banging.

It was amazing and a bit unnerving to watch Gabrielle—who'd first introduced herself to me by trying to kill me—obediently scuttle out the kitchen door with the trash bags and empty them into the outside receptacle.

The old Gabrielle might have blown up the trash, or the kitchen, or the entire house. But her derision for ordinary life and family had retreated. She'd had a shitty upbringing, so learning to handle the mundane reality of everyday living was a big step for her.

Grandmother focused on me again. "Regardless of the Firewalkers' motives, the question is: What will you do, Janet?"

They all studied me—Grandmother, Nitis, Dad, Gina. I was spared only the scrutiny of Gabrielle, who'd started singing loudly as she dumped the trash.

I again laid my hand on top of the egg. I was already fond of the little one, who jumped and danced inside his shell at my touch.

Who the hell was going to take care of him when he hatched? Drake? Me? How much tending did a baby dragon need? Lizards came out of their shells ready to run around and eat bugs, but birds had to be nurtured and fed.

Which would a dragon more resemble—lizard or bird—or would it be completely different from either of those? I desperately needed a How to Care for Your Baby Dragon manual.

"I'm not giving the egg to Bancroft," I said resolutely. "Or to any of the other dragons. Maybe not even Drake." I'd have to discover Drake's motives before I trusted him. He was honorable yes, but he wasn't always clear about his intentions.

My dad spoke from the sofa, his voice quiet. "Will you tell Mick?"

"Yes," I said immediately.

I was sure Mick wouldn't crush this egg when he heard a maybe-true, maybe-not-true legend. He was one of the most caring guys I'd ever met.

A little voice in the back of my mind reminded me that Mick was also an efficient killing machine. The council had chosen him to find me and take me out because Mick was ruthless and got the job done. That Mick had become fascinated with me and stopped himself was simply my good luck.

Since then, Mick had been protecting me from all comers, including the dragons who'd set him against me in the first place.

Mick also never, ever gave in to fear. He sometimes felt afraid, he'd once told me, but he hid it well and never let it drive him. I didn't really think his first reaction on learning about the legend would be to slay Junior without giving him a chance.

The others in the room, I could see, weren't so certain.

"I trust Mick," I said resolutely. "He's earned that. Proved himself many times over."

"Well, that's good." Gabrielle was back, trash done, hands clean. Again, I hadn't heard her come in, and again, I was the only one not startled. My family must be used to her now, and I didn't think anything could surprise Nitis.

"Thank you," I said to Gabrielle, then my eyes narrowed. "Do you mean you agree with me?"

"I mean, it's good, because he's here ." Gabrielle pointed out the window.

Mick was approaching us, fully dressed, sauntering in from the east as though he strolled across the high desert every day. He must have landed and morphed somewhere beyond the hills, though where he'd stashed his clothes, I didn't know. Dragons kept caches of personal belongings all over, apparently, so who knew what niche in the rocks near my house held his extra jeans and T-shirts?

I opened the door for Mick as he reached the porch. He gave me his hot, bad-boy smile and brushed a kiss to my lips before he entered the house .

Mick's smile died as he ran into the force of everyone's stares.

"What?" he asked.

Gabrielle spoke first. "The dragon in this egg is going to grow up to kill you, Mick. Unless you know another dragon lord. Then it might kill him instead." She shrugged under Grandmother's glare. "Better to tell him straight out than beat around the bush. Right?" She wrinkled her nose. " Beat around the bush. Where does that saying even come from? Some British hunting thing?"

"Yes," Mick rumbled. "Refers to the beaters flushing out ground birds so the hunters could catch them. In later centuries, to shoot them."

"Poor birdies," Gabrielle said.

"In medieval times, they had to eat." Mick studied our expressions. "Did you all expect me to flame the egg as soon as I knew?" He raised a hand, as though ready to let fire stream from his palm.

Since his eyes were brilliant blue, and the dragon tatts on his arms were calm—almost amused—I knew he wasn't about to flame anything.

"It would be the quickest way to end a potential problem," I said. I had my arms tightly crossed over my chest, but I'd blast Mick with Beneath magic if I was wrong and he did try to flame it.

Mick moved to the egg and gazed down at it. My father, trusting me and my faith in Mick, relaxed back into the sofa. The others remained tense, though Nitis sat calmly.

"I would never do that to Cesnia." Mick's voice went soft. "She'd not have let herself die if she'd thought Drake couldn't keep the egg safe. She also had to know that Drake would seek help, and the most powerful help was you, Janet. I'm guessing Cesnia knew the legend, but she trusted I wouldn't be cruel in order to protect myself."

"Wait a minute," I said, perplexed. "She chose to die? I thought someone killed her."

"They did. But if Cesnia had believed her offspring would perish without her, she'd have hung on with all her strength until the egg was safe. She knew it was all right to let go."

I stared at Mick. "I'm very confused."

"It's a dragon thing." Mick said this as though it explained everything. "I don't know exactly what happened to Cesnia, so I can only guess. She obviously wasn't worried I'd kill her child, or else she'd have put some sort of ward on him to keep me from coming near." He gently touched the top of the egg.

I felt no fear from the little dragon inside. In fact, the egg wobbled slightly, as it did for me, as though happy for my touch.

Grandmother's scowl lessened, and Gina exhaled in relief. Nitis's expression didn't change at all.

"Looks like you were right about him, Janet," Gabrielle said brightly. "Everyone else thought you'd kill it immediately, Mick."

Mick nodded, unoffended. "A natural assumption, but no."

I was still trying to follow Mick's logic regarding Cesnia letting herself be killed.

"Cesnia couldn't have known about her kid being part of a prophecy to bring down a dragon lord," I said. "The legend says that a dragon born without sire or dam will slay you. Cesnia didn't know her child would be born without father or mother, did she? She'd assume she'd be there when it hatched, and that Drake or Titus would be around too."

Mick raised his brows. "Titus?"

Mick had been gone before Titus arrived. "Apparently, he was one of Cesnia's favorites, too," I said. "My point is, Cesnia wouldn't have warded the egg against you, because she wouldn't have known there'd be a reason to."

Mick listened with his usual intense interest. " Wouldn't she have known?"

I pressed my hands to the sides of my skull. "Please, don't mess with my head, Mick. How could she have known her egg would be the one the legend was about? That she'd die before it hatched? She wouldn't have until the moment she realized her life was in danger, and even then, she might not have remembered this legend."

Mick's slow shrug reminded me why dragons drove me crazy. "We can't know what Cesnia foretold. Dragons are canny. She might very well have predicted her own death, or knew she was in danger of dying. She'd have alerted Drake to be ready to rescue the egg before she even went into battle." Mick finally bothered to look troubled. "I wish I understood better what happened."

I made a noise of exasperation. "Dragons are so?—"

"Cool," Gabrielle said quickly.

"Focused," I finished.

"That too," Gabrielle said. "And infuriating. And fun. And hot."

I pretended to ignore her, but I had to concede that her adjectives were apt.

Mick interrupted us. "I don't expect anyone but dragons to understand. I am not trying to insult you, but?— "

"It's a dragon thing," I filled in for him. "We puny humans can't grasp it."

"He's right." Nitis spoke up for the first time since Mick's arrival. "We can't truly understand. Mick has to figure this out."

Mick pinned his unnerving stare on Nitis. "Ruby, who the hell is this?" he asked Grandmother in a conversational tone. " What is he?" He cocked his head as though trying to understand the man.

"He's an interfering old coot." Grandmother tapped her walking stick to the floor. The cane was a plain one from the drugstore, not her formal one decorated with turquoise and silver. "Following me around, telling us prophecies about our family."

"Not a prophecy," Nitis corrected her, while I tried not to let my jaw drop that Grandmother described Mick as family. "A legend. A tale passed down among the winged creatures. Not a prediction. I only seek to warn you."

"What does his aura tell you, Janet?" Mick asked me without looking away from Nitis.

I tried to tamp down my worry about the egg, Mick, the legend—all things that would prevent me from seeing clearly—and focused on Nitis.

I sensed darkness in the man, but not the shadowy, evil kind. I felt the soft blackness of cool nights that bring peace and starlight. Also, the sable featheriness of a crow, who shook out its plumes and cocked an eye as you went by, as though laughing about the ridiculousness of the world.

"He's …" I hesitated. "Fine."

Nitis flashed me a brief smile. "You flatter me."

"How did you defeat the lightning?" I demanded. Though I didn't sense evil from him, that didn't mean he wasn't powerful and dangerous. "Something attacked our hotel," I told the others when they looked puzzled. Well, everyone but Grandmother. She'd known.

"That was easy." Nitis shrugged. "It wasn't really there."

I blinked. "You mean it was an illusion?"

"Not quite. It could have been deadly, but it was more of a warning. Simple to send off."

"Mick chased it away," I said.

"Mick chased away the dregs," Nitis said. "The source of it would have killed him."

Now I had to worry about what that meant.

"One problem at a time," Mick rumbled. "For me, the most pressing question is: What actually happened to Cesnia? It's bothering me enough that I want to visit her lair and see what I can find." He turned to me, his mischievous smile lighting his eyes. "Are you up for a road trip?"