CHAPTER FOUR
Tem
“What happened to the other girl?” asked Tem. “The one with you yesterday?” Tem stared at Astrid who wore the ridiculous glasses that were supposed to keep them safe against dragon “enchantments.” They were silly and ineffective, but it was wisest that the dragons did not reveal this. One never knew when the slightest chance at escape could present itself, or what thinnest edge of an advantage would help that goal.
Are you beating time with my girl? thrummed Evan. He had taken a shine to the pert redhead, and even allowed her to enter his cage to clean the stinking mess of the previous dinner from the glass of his cage. This involved retracting the chains into their sheaths in the walls and standing flush against the stone, not exactly the most comfortable of situations. That Evan allowed it revealed his soft spot for their newest guard.
Your girl? replied Tem.
“She left me a chocolate bar under my plate. She was quite cute about it.”
Tem reflected that Astrid might be the most effective weapon yet sent in against the dragons. Her apparent kindness was a balm against the cruelties of their existence and could cause them to lose their desire for resistance. This created a resolve to steel himself against her charms. It was a resolve that quickly dissolved when she turned her adorable smile on him.
“She called in sick,” said Astrid.
“And where is the redoubtable Mrs. Parks?”
“She had a last-minute meeting with the commandant. But redoubtable?” She arched her eyebrow.
“It’s a word,” said Tem.
“But is it the correct word? Recalcitrant is more like it.”
“As in ‘hard to deal with’?”
“I’m glad you know your five syllable words.”
“Sweetheart, I invented five syllable words.”
Astrid smirked. “Really?”
“Someone had to educate the savages.”
“You talk a good game, Mr. Rawlings. But you aren’t that old.”
“Call me Tem. All my friends and some of my good enemies do. And how do you know my age?”
“Tem, eh? What am I? Friend or enemy?”
“Don’t know. Can you tell me?”
“I’m your keeper, Mr. Rawlins. I certainly can’t be your friend.”
“Unfortunate.”
“For you, perhaps.”
He grinned. “I understand, sweetheart. You have to toe the party line.”
“Do I?” she replied provocatively.
There was a tension in her shoulders that was a sign of something, but what, Tem could not tell. But she kept the silly grin on her face, which again told him she was hiding behind it. But why?
“I think you should get a shower,” she said.
“Why?” said Tem.
She glanced at his chest, which he still had not bothered to wash from last night.
“You know why.”
“We aren’t allowed showers.” He shook his wrist, rattling the chains on his arms. “The shackles could rust.”
“Then maybe you need a good sponge bath.”
“Why? Are you offering?”
She cocked her head, but then down toward the plate she put in the exchange slot.
“Well, you know how that works. I’d have to retract the shackles and put you against the wall. Are you up for that?”
“Hmm, bondage and a sponge bath. I don’t know how I can resist.”
“Hey,” thrummed Evan in protest.
“Quiet, boy,” he replied. “I’m working here.”
“Oh, okay,” came Evan’s dispirited reply. Damn. Tem couldn’t help but feel for the boy, trapped in here just for his ancestors, and not any real wrongdoing of his own. But Tem was a mission: Operation Freedom. He smiled at the pretty attendant. She gave him one back.
“So, you are into bondage?” she said sweetly.
“Apparently.”
She snorted and Tem thought it was charming.
“I have a real thing for discipline,” said Tem with a smirk.
“Oh, a real 50 Shades man, eh?”
“50 Shades?”
“You don’t know what that is?”
“Yes, I do, we’re allowed a movie from time to time. I thought Christian was rather tame. Nothing much interesting there.”
“It was supposed to be a love story.”
Tem snorted. “Sure. With blindfolds and whips. That spells true love.”
“I see you are a skeptic.”
“And I see you’re an incurable romantic.” He slid forward, coming to the half foot he was allowed toward the glass. “Careful, darling. Remember humans are crunchy and tasty with ketchup.”
Hey, interjected Evan with a thrum. You know nothing of ketchup. Here you people call it ‘sauce.’
Quiet. Busy.
“You don’t scare me, Mr. Rawlins,” said Astrid. Her words brought him sharply back to her countenance, staring at him through the glass. She was totally unaware of the rumbling communication between him and Evan.
“Don’t I?”
“No. Eat your dinner and I’ll see about that sponge bath.”
“Don’t go to any trouble. I happen to know that my social calendar is shockingly thin of late. A missed clean-up or two won’t offend anyone but me.”
A pained look came across her face and he wondered if she wanted a chance to get up close and personal. She nodded her head again toward his plate, this time more pointedly.
“At least eat. You never know what you’ll need your strength for.”
She was trying to tell him something.
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll do that. Just to make you happy.”
She turned and looked over her shoulder toward him with a snappy shrug.
“I’ll check on you later,” she said. And then she sauntered away, affecting the cool matronly demeanor that was expected by her employers. Damn. She was up to something. And sexy. Damn sexy.
Hold up, old man. Until proven otherwise, she’s the enemy.
She left Evan a chocolate bar. What did she leave him?
He drew out the covered plate, reveling the intoxicating scent her hands left on it. With a turn, he set in on the metal protrusion that served as a desk on the right-hand wall. The security camera pivoted and followed him, but he was used to this. He pushed the chair forty-five degrees from the table in an affected casual air. Long experience taught him this position also had the advantage of blocking the line of sight of the camera to objects on the desk.
He lifted the metal cover and saw the mass of ground raw chicken. He sniffed. If he kept eating this dreck he’d get seriously sick. There wasn’t any ground bone in it, which was essential to a dragon’s diet.
“Fee, fie, foe, fum,” he hummed, remembering the old fairy tale. “I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.”
You’ve definitely been locked up too long.
Then you better see what you can do about that.
Talking to and answering himself was a bad sign. He definitely needed to get out of here.
Back to provocation.
He turned his head to the camera.
“Hey. I’m still waiting on my live goat.”
The image of Astrid rolling her eyes filled his mind. The flash of her eyes, the exasperation in her sigh was as real as if she stood in front of him.
What the hell was that?
Stay on task.
He cautiously tipped the plate up and to his disappointment found nothing. Why did he think she had left something for him? Then he remembered Evan’s candy bar. That couldn’t fit underneath the plate like he said, unless—
Tem inspected the dish again. It appeared to be sealed in its heavy base, but he slipped in his thumbnail between the crease of where the plate met the base and found the two pieces could separate. Coolly, slowly, so as not to alert whoever was watching for Astrid’s subversion, he lifted the plate and found a slip of paper. He pulled it out with his index finger, sliding it along the base and nipping it out with his forefinger and thumb.
As thin elegant script flowed across a small square of parchment paper.
Sorry. They’ve scheduled your execution for two days from now. I don’t know what I can do, but I’m trying to work out something.
A small spark of hope flared in his heart. Even the suggestion of freedom was a piece of joy that he wouldn’t deny. But she was one human girl and he couldn’t hope that she could overcome all the security measures installed in this prison.
Execution.
In one way, it would be a relief. Twenty-four years in prison wasn’t so long for a dragon of his years, but it was still intolerable to be denied his true form, to fly the skies and enjoy the freedom of the wind.
But it was wrong. He did nothing to deserve death but oppose a scaly worm that was bent on humanity’s destruction. As annoying as the younger race could be, it had incredible potential and deserved to live.
Tem stared at the paper and saw it was a damning piece of evidence. The last thing he wanted was the lovely Astrid to get into trouble for trying to help him or him agreeing to it. He stuffed the paper in his mouth and chewed it into a pulpy mess, then swallowed it. Tem still wasn’t sure whose side she was on. She could be a provocateur sent to excite him to a new crime. How much could he trust her?
She’s human. Very little.
He had to warn her off trying to help him.
Because if she did try, he was sure it would not go well for either of them.