Chapter Fourteen: Melody

 

 

There was heat and cold in waves; there was pain, but distant and muffled, as if she was somewhere far away from where her body was. There were voices. She thought she heard her father, and Tessa and Ben. Of the other voice—the one she strained to hear, the one she wanted to hear most—there was no sign.

He'd survived, surely? Fear penetrated her hazy half-awake state, and she struggled to claw her way back to the waking world.

Instead, she clawed her way ... somewhere else.

Melody found herself standing on an endless plain made of fine gray sand that shifted under her slippered feet. The sky was dark, with no stars.

Her dragon sat before her, on its haunches like a dog, silver head upraised and intelligent gray eyes fixed on her.

Melody gazed up at it, awed. She'd never actually seen her dragon before, except from the inside, and its beauty took her breath away. There was grace and power in every clean line of its body, and a predator's cool appraisal in the way its alien eyes studied her.

She'd never quite realized how alien it was before. Other shifters, most of them, shifted into beasts that had real, Earth analogues. They might be larger and more intelligent, but fundamentally they were bears or wolves or dolphins or honey badgers, just like their normal, wild equivalents.

But there was nothing else like dragons on Earth. The only dragons were the shifter kind like Melody and her clan.

For the first time, she thought to wonder, Where did we come from? Who are we? Are there non-shifter dragons somewhere, under some alien sun?

Her dragon spoke then, in a musical voice like a pipe organ, somehow different from the way it sounded when her own voice spoke in those fluting tones. It sounded accusing. "You wanted to banish me."

Guilt slapped her in the face: guilt not just for herself and her dragon, but also for Gunnar. "Not you," she protested. "Never you."

"Gunnar then?" her dragon asked.

"No!" she protested. Her gaze dropped to the sand underfoot; she couldn't meet its eyes. "It was me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "My fear. My pride. I just wanted a choice."

"And if you could choose now?"

There was a curious timbre to her dragon's voice. She looked up at it.

"Is it true what they say about dragonsbane?" she asked. "Can it break the mate bond?"

"It might. Is that what you want?"

The answer came back to her in the form of memories: Gunnar's sure hands on her body, his warm laugh, the shy way he'd opened up about things he'd never discussed with anyone before. All his courage, his heart, his love, all waiting for her.

"No," she said firmly. "If there is a choice, I choose him. Now, today, and every day. Forever."

"Good," her dragon said, sounding pleased.

It settled down on the sand, folding its great legs under it the way Melody had done for Gunnar to mount on her back. She hadn't realized how catlike it looked from the outside. The dragon seemed to be waiting, so Melody went up to it and laid her hand on the silver neck, feeling the pulse of its heartbeat beneath the scales. It felt real. She felt real. Nothing else here felt real at all, but this was real, she thought.

"I like being able to talk to you like this, face to face," she said, a bit shyly. "I like being able to see more of you than just what I can glimpse out of the corner of my eye."

Her dragon nudged her face with the tip of its great snout, which turned out to be unexpectedly warm and soft. "I am you," it said. Its voice was fond and indulgent. "I'm your courage and your secret hidden heart. I'm the fierce part of you and the jealous part of you. I'm the part of you that stands up when everything else falls down."

"Someone's a little full of herself," Melody teased, pushing playfully at the graceful silver neck as she might have shoved her brother when they were children.

Her dragon laughed, a soft laugh for such a huge creature. It was a familiar laugh, Melody realized, because it was her own. "I think you should wake up now. There are others who would like to see you. But remember, I'm part of you. I'll never be farther away than your own soul."

It nuzzled against her face, and then her eyes snapped open, and she woke up.

Her body dragged at her, aching and heavy. She had to blink a few times, trying to clear her vision, and finally raised her hand to her face before she understood that her vision wasn't going to clear; she didn't have her glasses on.

For the first time she realized she hadn't been wearing them in the dream—or vision, whatever it was. She'd been able to see perfectly clearly without them.

Oh well. I guess dreams don't have to follow real-world logic.

"Melody?" a voice said. A moment later, Tessa's blurry face loomed in her vision. "Melody! You're awake! Can you hear me? Can you sit up?"

Too pliant to offer resistance, Melody let Tessa help her to a sitting position. Her friend fussed around her, propping pillows behind her back and bringing her a glass of water. She didn't have to ask where she was; despite the blurring, she recognized the glitter of gold everywhere and the lush opulence of the bed, which was big enough to accommodate four people. She had to be at Darius's mansion.

A warm, firm lump against her leg settled the matter. It was orange and purring. She didn't have to be able to see it to know it was Toblerone.

"How long was I out?" she asked weakly as Tessa helped her lift the glass of water to her mouth. Her hands trembled and her arms felt limp.

"Two days. We weren't sure—" Tessa pressed her lips together, to stop the words or to prevent them from quivering, Melody wasn't sure. "Anyway," Tessa went on in a more normal voice, "Ben and I have been staying at your father's place while we waited for you to wake up."

It touched her deeply that they'd come. "What about Gunnar?" He must have survived, he must have. My father was there; I don't remember it well, but I do remember that. Surely he would have made sure that Gunnar survived. He must have survived ...

"He's here," Tessa said, and Melody's stomach unclenched in relief. "Well, not precisely here here. Your father wanted him—uh—"

Melody pushed the half-empty glass of water away as her stomach knit its walls together all over again. "Tessa. Where is Gunnar?"

Tessa cleared her throat. "Did you know your dad has a dungeon? Because I didn't."

"He put him in the dungeon?" She started to climb out of bed and immediately got tangled up with the covers and her own weak legs. It was embarrassing to have to slump on Tessa while the spots stopped dancing in front of her eyes.

"I don't think you should be out of bed yet," Tessa protested. "You almost died."

Anger was a remarkable motivator. She managed to wobble to her feet, clutching at Tessa's round, pregnant body for support. "I can't believe my dad put my mate in the dungeon. I'm going to kill him."

"In fairness to your dad," Tessa said, putting an arm around her to stabilize her, "Gunnar kind of volunteered to put himself down there. Nobody quite trusts him, and there was some question of—uh—"

"I trust him!" Melody snapped. "I wanted him here! That should be what counts." She used furniture and Tessa to pull herself toward where she hoped the door was.

"There was some question of how you got the dragonsbane in the first place," Tessa said.

She sounded embarrassed. As well she might. Melody turned a withering glare on her friend, or at least the closest thing she could manage while she was dressed in nothing but a nightgown, unable to see anything except a giant blur, and using her death grip on Tessa's shoulder to keep from falling on her face.

"People think Gunnar gave me the dragonsbane?"

"He said he didn't, but I'm not sure your dad and Ben believe him."

"I am going to kill them," Melody decided. "No, first I'll let Gunnar out of the dungeon. Then I'll kill them." She made another attempt for the door, but her human crutch was rooted firmly in place. "Tessa, so help me—"

"I will help you, if you'll put some clothes on," Tessa said. "I know how I'd feel if it was Ben down there. At least sit down for a minute, before you fall down."

"I guess ..." Melody wobbled and sat down abruptly on the edge of the bed. "I guess I could do that."

Tessa brought her a silk robe from the closet. "You know they're just trying to look out for you."

"I know," she sighed. "I expect this sort of ridiculousness from Dad. I thought Ben had more common sense, though."

"If it helps any, I think Ben likes Gunnar." Tessa helped Melody put an arm into the robe. "I don't really think he wants to, but he does. Ben's always been a pretty good judge of character. Speaking of Ben, he and your dad need to know you're up—"

"They can twist in the wind for a little while yet," Melody declared heartlessly. "First we get Gunnar out of the dungeon. Then we let them know I'm not dead."

She almost changed her mind when she lurched out of the bedroom, leaning on Tessa, to be confronted with an expanse of polished marble floor that looked approximately a mile long to her bleary eyes. She'd forgotten how huge Darius's mansion was.

"I'm not quite sure I know the way," Tessa admitted. "This place is a maze."

"I know the way. Just tell me what wing we're in."

"Uh ... he said he put you in the Daffodil Room."

"Really? Okay, that means east wing ..." She turned around. "This way. Onward."

They had to stop a few times along the way to rest, taking shameless advantage of benches that were probably intended to be ornamental. Melody took them down a servant's stair to the basement level, which was older-looking and much more utilitarian than the main floors of the house; it was primarily used for storage. Tessa picked up some self-assurance here, led them through the wine cellar, and opened the secret door to the dungeons with a confidence that indicated she'd already been here a few times.

The women stepped through the swinging section of wall into a square stone passageway. "My father spares no cliché," Melody muttered, glancing at the fuzzy blobs of lamps set into recesses in the rough-cut walls, and Tessa laughed.

Melody just hoped the lamps were electric. Her father was odd and old-fashioned, but he was smart enough not to risk a fire in the subbasement for mere ambiance ... she hoped.

Maddox, her father's bodyguard and manservant, was sitting outside the lone occupied cell in the cell block. He stood up quickly, laying aside a book; Melody had to stop herself from tracking it with her eyes, trying by habit to focus through her nearsightedness to read the cover.

"Melody?" said a familiar, beloved voice, and all thoughts of books fled her mind.

She pushed away from Tessa and stumbled to the bars of the cell. Gunnar scrambled to his feet and pressed against the bars, reaching through. They hugged as desperately as they could with the bars in the way.

"You're all right," Gunnar breathed. He brushed her face with his fingertips before pulling her close again. "You're all right."

"I'm still pretty far from a hundred percent, but I think I'm going to be okay." She pressed against him, as if she could melt through the bars and into his arms. "And you—" She'd already felt the bulk of bandages under his shirt. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? They made you stay in here if you're hurt—"

"They didn't make me," Gunnar said quickly. "Well, your dad kind of ... implied I might be happier here. But it's okay. If you didn't make it, I didn't really ..."

He trailed off. She was glad he hadn't finished. "I'm fine," she declared, "and you're fine. Or at least we're both going to be." She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him.

"Maddox," Tessa said in a no-nonsense tone, "let him out."

"Not without the boss's say-so," Maddox ground back at her in his bass rumble of a voice.

"Maddox, the boss isn't here, but I'm here. Which of us are you more worried about?"

Melody was intrigued to find out which way this battle of wills was going to fall, but had no chance to learn. "Actually," said a quiet voice said from the corridor, "I am here." Darius stepped into view, hands clasped behind his back and face calm. If he had any emotional response to the fact that his daughter who had been on her deathbed just recently was now up and moving around, it didn't show—though admittedly she was only getting the broad strokes of expressions right now by squinting at people's faces.

"Daughter," Darius said, and was that perhaps relief in his voice, despite his efforts to hide it? "I see you're up and about."

"Yes, and I see Gunnar is in the dungeon," Melody snapped. "Let him out."

Darius nodded to Maddox, who stepped forward with the keys. "Oh, and I brought you something," Darius said casually, holding out a hand to Melody.

She couldn't tell what it was until her hands closed over familiar glass, plastic, and wire. "Oh, thank God," she murmured, fitting the glasses to her face. Finally she could see. Darius was smiling slightly. "Where did you get these?"

"I've taken to keeping a spare set on hand, should you need them while visiting."

She'd only started wearing her glasses around him recently; up until that point, they'd both pretended that her eyes were perfectly 20/20. Melody gave him a highly suspicious look, but just then the cell door opened with a clank, and she turned to throw her arms around Gunnar properly this time.

"You're okay," she murmured, pressing kisses to his stubble-scruffed cheek, to his lips and nose and neck.

"I'm okay." He held her close. He must have showered since the fight, because his clothes were clean and he smelled of soap and, ever so slightly, of dungeon.

He could have smelled like a pigpen for all she cared. The important thing was that he was alive and okay. Her conviction from earlier was still with her. Gunnar, I choose you. No matter what. Through storm and fire, through my family's disapproval, I will always choose you.

Right now her family was looking uncomfortable and somewhat guilty. Ben had arrived with her dad, and she shot him a glare past Gunnar's shoulder, hoping he could read the unspoken subtext: I expect this of Dad, but I thought better of you.

He seemed to understand; there was apology in his slight smile, and then, as he took in the way they were clinging to each other, a long-delayed comprehension seemed to dawn. He went over to put an arm around Tessa's shoulders, and his pregnant mate leaned against him and kissed his cheek.

"I was so worried for you," Gunnar whispered into her hair. "It was all I could think about, how you'd collapsed and I couldn't do anything about it."

"It's all right. It's not your fault in the slightest. No matter what some people think." She directed this in Darius's direction.

Darius looked like he was on the verge of saying something, but just then Tessa interrupted them with a small, surprised gasp. She wobbled away from Ben and sat down abruptly on the chair Maddox had vacated.

"Tessa?" Ben said, alarmed.

Darius asked at the same time, "Are you well?"

"I'm fine," Tessa said slowly. She pressed a hand to the swell of her pregnant belly. "I just ... think I had a contraction."