GWEN

Fort Dallas reminds me a lot of Fort Tulsa. The barrier—made entirely of broken-down cars and trucks stacked atop of each other like massive building blocks—is new, but the squalor isn't. Even before we get there, I see trash lining the broken streets and carcasses of dead animals, kicked into muddy gutters and left to rot. I know what the inside will look like without even crossing through the gates, because this reminds me so much of Tulsa and all the things we didn't want to do in our new home. The smell of the fort hits me like a ton of bricks—filth and excrement, mud and animals and overall a horrible, rotten sort of smell that's like garbage times a thousand.

Breathe through your mouth, Vaan tells me. That is what I do when it is the worst.

Is…this how everything smells to you? I ask him, horrified. I've never noticed it before and I wonder if I'm noticing now because we strive to keep Fort Shreveport so clean, or if I'm noticing it because I'm attached to Vaan's senses. Either way, it's appalling.

Your scent is the finest I have ever smelled. The others are not.

Diplomatic enough. Should we move in closer?

He circles lower, and as we approach, I can feel caution edging into Vaan's mind. We near the fort and I see several golden shapes perched atop the fort barrier at strategic locations. Those have to be the captive dragons. There are two more atop buildings in the fort. None of them are paying the slightest bit of attention to the fact that we're circling around, which is alarming in itself. Vaan swoops in low and one lifts its head, studying us as we fly past, and I can see the brilliant eyes are a dull, dead gray shade.

People look up as we pass over, but there's no alarm that sounds, no one runs away in panic. They just stare up, shielding their eyes, and then go about their day.

This is so damn weird.

They feel safe under the Salorian's claws, Vaan sends, and his thoughts are tinged with disgust.

Or they don't have any choice. Still, it's hard to disagree with him when I see groups of people wandering and laughing in the streets as if they're not surrounded by dragons.

Dragons, for fuck's sake. The entire world's gone mad.

Should we land outside the gate? I ask Vaan. Shift to human form and then walk in?

I will not shift to two-legged form, he tells me, and that protective edge laces his thoughts. I will remain in battle-form and you will remain at my side. This is not something I will yield upon.

Okay. I guess if he wants to talk truce, he can meet us outside then. I eyeball the buildings. Most of them are hovels, but there are a few larger barracks, none of which are large enough for a dragon to fit into, though. We'll figure something out. I guess we land anywhere, then.

Are you sure you wish to do this?

I'm not afraid. If we were going to be attacked, there's been ample opportunity so far. I eye the dragons sitting on their perches atop the wall as we circle lower. They just wait, and wait, gazing out into the sky and staring at nothing. Only one watches us, one of the dragons sitting atop a building. I make eye contact with the possessed dragon and he lowers his head a moment later, then closes his eyes. Well, all right then. I don't think he's scared of us, either. Has anyone—or anything—tried to touch your mind other than me?

No. I can feel nothing despite being surrounded by my own people. If their minds are in there, they are buried. His thoughts are full of distaste for the situation.

All right. Let's just land. Pick somewhere.

Vaan flies over the fort and picks out a spot on a low roof in the center of things and veers in. This time, people scream and scramble to get out of the way, obviously surprised that a dragon's about to land on their heads. I feel Vaan's unholy pleasure at their terror and stroke his neck even as he comes to a thumping landing. The roof smells like melting tar in the heat, and it only adds to the stench. Poor Vaan. He really hates this. I can go in without you, I offer.

I can fly off with you in my claws and that can be the end of this, he tells me.

Okay, fine, fine. We do this together.

I am glad we agree.

I'm smiling at his sour tone despite the severity of our situation. Someday you're going to let me protect you instead of the other way around.

Someday. Perhaps. Not this day, though. Not with you so vulnerable. He steps forward on the roof and then lowers his shoulders so I can dismount. Get down and wait by my claws.

I do as he asks, and the moment my feet hit the roof, I'm immediately snatched up by dragon claws and yanked against Vaan's breast. Yikes! I wasn't going anywhere!

I know. Better safe than sorry.

I bite back my hysterical giggle. This isn't funny. In fact, the situation is utterly dire. It's only nerves that make me want to laugh like a loon. Only nerves. I stroke Vaan's large claws. What do we do now?

If they wish to speak to us, they will let us know. He leans down and nuzzles my hair. You are sweaty.

It's hot as hell. Of course I'm sweaty.

He lifts his other foreleg and carefully—almost daintily—strokes my hair back from my head in the same hard motion he always uses.

The petting can wait, Vaan. I'm all right.

I only wish to make sure that your eyes do not sweat.

This again? You’ve said that before and it still makes no sense to me.

Your eyes. They sweat. The stroking helps. I know this because when I pet you, the eye-sweat goes away.

Ohmigod. This man—dragon—is the most adorable being known to mankind. How did I ever get so lucky to have you?

Do human males not stroke their mates?

Not nearly as often as they should.

Then they deserve to lose them.

I can't argue with that. We don't get a chance to talk about it more, because the one dragon sits up, alert. His eyes focus on us for a long moment, and then he blinks, slowly. They remain that same unfocused gray, and I'm uncertain what to do. Is he talking to you, Vaan?

No. Shall I reach out?

I remember what the others said about how a Salorian can poison minds, just by touching minds with another who is infected. No. Let's wait. If you need to talk to someone, talk to me. Don't touch their thoughts at all.

I will not. Yours are enough for me. And he nuzzles my hair again.

I reach up and caress his scaly snout, for a brief moment wishing we were anywhere but here. That we could run away from all of this and just hole up somewhere quiet and wait for the world to get back to normal. Of course, that will never happen, and it's silly to hope for such things. Even so, I can't help but want it.

Dakh said he took his mate to a great shoreline in the south. It made her happy.

The ocean? I remember vacations with family, hot sand and salty waves, and picking up shells on the beach. That sounds wonderful, I admit wistfully. Maybe we can do that after all this is over.

We can. I will go wherever you want, do whatever you like, as long as we are together.

Me too. Even as I think it, I realize the pleasure in that thought comes from spending time with my dragon-man and not the actual ocean itself. I don't need the sand or the waves, really. I just need Vaan. He's my home now. I trace my fingers along his scales, and down below, a door opens in a nearby building. Three soldiers emerge in green khaki uniforms, and I remember Claudia mentioned that Fort Dallas had a militia. Looks like they're working with the devil. Figures. Two set up by the door, guns on shoulders, and one approaches the building we've alighted upon.

He's sending out humans, not dragons. Huh. I glance over at the other dragons nearby, but they might as well be statues. Not a one has twitched a muscle. It's so bizarre. Is there a reason he's not using them and opted to send humans? Something fishy is going on.

He's not trying to get you, is he? I ask Vaan again.

No.

Hmm. I eye the dragons as the soldier steps forward and waits. Is it possible he's overextended himself?

The Salorians I knew could handle hundreds of drakoni warriors with the blink of an eye.

Yes, and this one only has a few despite the fact that the land’s crawling with dragons. Makes me wonder if his mental powers are limited here, like yours are.

If they are, now is the time to kill him.

He's not wrong…but at the same time, I want to know what the big deal is that's so important he'd call on the enemy to come visit. This “truce.” What's it for and why? Let's wait and see. If things get out of control, you have my permission to eat as many people as you want.

Vaan snorts and lowers his muzzle until his nostrils are buried in my hair. Remember how bad your people smell? I do not want to eat any of them. He opens his mind a little, and I'm hit with a wave of hot garbage and B.O.

Urgh, right. I wonder how I smell to him. He says it smells good, but I wonder.

In the next moment, a new scent invades my senses—musky, sexy, and sweaty, but in a pleasant, exciting way. It's a scent that feels like pure pleasure to breathe in. That is how you smell to me.

I practically squirm with delight. That's me that smells so good?

Yes. I could breathe in your scent forever.

For some reason, this is far more flattering than if he'd told me I was beautiful.

"Hey," the guard calls out from down below, and I re-focus on him instead of my dragon and his flattery. "Azar told me to come out here and invite you two in to have a meal with him."

I can feel Vaan tense and I stroke his claws. It's okay. He's jockeying for the best position, that's all. "No thanks," I call down from the rooftop. "If he wants to meet us, he can come out here and say hello instead of sending his lackeys."

The man scowls, his hand twitching on his gun. I smell smoke and a moment later, Vaan lowers his head, completely hiding me from the guy's sight, smoke pouring from his nose. Insolent pup—

It's okay, I promise him again. He's swinging his dick to try and intimidate us. If they act like assholes, we'll leave. If they want to talk, they can come out here. We'll give them a chance to play nice before we head out.

I do not like the way he looks at you. Vaan's thoughts are dark and I can feel the heaviness in them, like a storm is about to thunder in. Not a good sign. I know that any time Vaan struggles with control, there are sensations of storms and darkness lit up by lightning, and I know to step in and re-focus him. He hasn't lost himself lately, but I usually step in before things can get tricky. Vaan?

Let me rend him—

No, no rending. We're good, I promise. I soothe him with a touch—both physical and mental. Stay focused with me. This is part of the game. He wants us to come to him, we want him to come to us. It's a standoff and we'll see who breaks first.

I feel a ping of assent from him and he calms as the soldier turns and heads back inside. He gives the two guarding the door of the nearby building a look and I notice that they're touching their guns more readily and their gaze is locked on us.

Long minutes tick past in the heat, but nothing happens. I suspect someone's going to try something else soon. This Azar guy isn't going to want to look as if he's conceding anything to us.

It is not the Salorian way, Vaan agrees. There's something in his mental tone I don't like. His thoughts feel…tight. Distracted. Like something's pressing on them and it's hard for him to focus.

Vaan?

I am…here. But he sounds more distant by the moment, more strained.

I glance over at the door and the guards, but no one's coming out. Are you all right? I reach up and caress the massive jaw, trying to get him to focus on me.

I…am…

All at once, it hits me what's going on. Since we won't go in, this Salorian asshole is trying to force us to come to him. That's why Vaan's thoughts are feeling more and more flattened by the moment. Stay with me. Let's talk about us. You want to go to the beach after this is done? We could set up a nest, work on getting me pregnant, just like you mentioned.

We…do…not need…the sea…for that.

I chuckle, trying to keep my thoughts light and my panic out. Hold on to me. Focus on me. We've got this. We're not going to let him win. I only hope I'm telling the truth. As soon as we're done here, you can have me alone. I'll strip down naked and you can lick every part of me that you want. When that doesn't elicit a response, I touch his jaw. What is your favorite part to lick, by the way?

I get a close up mental image of my folds, slick with arousal, and a hot blush scorches through me.

Gah.

You asked. His thoughts are a little easier, but still strained.

So I did. All right. Permission to lick with abandon once we're done with this mess. How's your brain holding up? I lightly stroke his scales, letting my thoughts get frisky. It's not the easiest shift of thought considering I'm worried about him and it's not the time for sexy play, but I need to bring him back, to change his focus. And focus is easiest when it comes to sex.

I am…trying.

I know. If you want, I can take the lead when we return. Since he's sending me mental images of sexy things, I send him one of me, pushing a hand down on his chest and playfully forcing him to the ground. In my mind, his cock is completely erect and the head is dripping with hot cum—hot cum that no longer burns me with a touch since I have his fires running through my veins. The mental Gwen shimmies down his body in a totally sexy way that I probably couldn't achieve without practice, and then mental Gwen's hair falls over Vaan's thighs as she leans in and licks him from root to tip.

His thoughts surge in my mind like a ripple. I have his attention fully now. You are doing that when we get back.

Relieved laughter bubbles up in my throat. I am absolutely doing that. Are you with me? Is he still attacking you?

Things are quiet. It is just you and me…and you are lucky I am in battle form. If I was in my two-legged form, I would have already mounted you in front of all these staring humans.

We could give them quite a show, I agree, keeping a teasing note in my voice. But I thought you wanted to remain in dragon-form to protect me?

I do, and it must come first. But he sounds disappointed anyhow, even as he runs his muzzle over my hair one more time. You are good at distracting.

I just know what you'll be the most interested in. I'm relieved, though. He's back with me again fully, the strain no longer pressing on his mind. Either Azar's given up, or he's no match for blow job visuals. Who knew that would be the secret weapon against Salorian mind control? The thought's almost funny.

Almost.

We wait a bit longer, and I settle in on Vaan's foreleg, resting my butt against his scales as he keeps his head low, artfully shielding me from the others. I can “see” through his eyes that they're still watching us, but the rest of the fort has gone back to their daily lives. People go up and down the muddy street as if it's normal to live in a fort covered in dragons, and off in the distance, I see a couple of boys playing soccer. It's almost peaceful…except I can't shake the feeling of wrongness. This is not how it's supposed to work. That's not how any of this works.

We're alone for maybe another hour—it's hard to tell without a watch, but the sun's moved in the sky—and I sip water from a bottle to cool my throat as we wait. I brought food, too, but I'm not going to break into that just yet. If it was me in that building, I'd make us sit on this roof all day long in the hot sun, just to be a dick.

I'm not entirely surprised when the doors open again a short time later, and a handful of guys come out, all human. No Azar. They don't look at us but instead get to work setting up a gauzy white awning to block out the sun. Once it's established, more people appear with pretty wrought-iron lawn furniture. A square table is placed, then two chairs. Then two more chairs. Finally, new guys arrive with trays of food and drink. Even though I'm not all that hungry, I admit that what he's got on the table looks better than the dried-up ration bar in my bag.

What is all this?

I think he is coming to us, Vaan suggests.

I think he's right. It means our bluff worked. This Azar guy really, really must want to talk. Interesting. Really interesting.

When Azar finally emerges out of the building, I'm not sure what I was expecting. Certainly not someone attractive—but he is. He's got a lean, hungry look to him, but everyone in the After does. His eyes are narrow and sharp, his skin pale, and he's covered head to toe in flowing robe-like garments that make me think of the desert sheikhs, right down to the linen head wrap. He's tall and lean and it's clear he's used to being obeyed, because his stance is one of utter arrogance and irritation as he storms out. His gaze impatiently flicks about, looking for us.

So I wave a greeting from my perch up on the building.

His gaze fixes on me, and his pale gold eyes remind me so much of Vaan that I'm a little shocked at first—I expected evil to be different in some massive way, but he's not. He could be just another drakoni. I bet if I peeked under his head wrap, he'd be blond under there, just like Vaan is, and it only adds to the feeling of being unnerved. A new scent is on the air—faintly spicy, a bit like char—and it reminds me all too much of Vaan, which I hate. A second later, he bares his teeth in a mockery of a smile and I see that his teeth look unnatural—square, but unnatural.

He tries to appear as humans do, Vaan sends to me, utter distaste in his thoughts.

Oh. That's…alarming. Liam did the same thing, but there’s an air of…menace…to Azar that Liam completely lacks. The other humans study the Salorian warily, but it's still clear to me that he's in charge and rules with more than a little fear.

Azar gazes up at us. "You are making this quite difficult, you know." He gestures at the area. "Have I not made it quite clear that you are my guest?"

"Was that before or after you tried to take over Vaan's mind just now?" I keep my voice sweet as sugar.

His eyes narrow and I get the vague impression that he's amused. "What a fierce little thing you are." His voice is thickly accented, his inflections different from anything I’ve heard before. His English is good, though. Scary, scary good. I can see how he passes for human.

"Don't be gross. My man's standing right here." I pat Vaan's claws, still wrapped tight around my waist.

"Oh, I know he's there. I can smell your human stink all over him." His nostrils flare delicately, and I get the impression of fine-boned features compared to Vaan's blunted, fierce beauty. "So do I have your word that you will try no trickery? No poison, no stunts, nothing that will force me to do anything unpleasant? I truly do wish for this to be a parlay. We have much to speak of."

Now that's odd, too. He's the one standing there with a bunch of dudes with guns…and he's asking me to behave?

This is…strange, Vaan adds. Salorians do not make deals.

Do we trust it?

I will follow your lead, but I will never trust a Salorian. If he gives me the chance, I will destroy him. Hatred tinges his thoughts, and I realize that just because Vaan's been quiet, it doesn't mean he's calm. He's on the verge of cracking, the storm clouds roiling at the back of his mind.

Focus on me, I tell him. Focus on my scent.

I am. I will not disappoint you.

You never do, I tell him warmly. Do you want to leave? Say the word and we can go now.

Irony laces his emotions. You think he will let you go now without insisting you hear what he has to say? The big dragon looming over me snorts to punctuate the thought.

All right, good point. Let me take the lead, though. He can't touch my mind, and if it becomes too much for you, let me know.

I am not shifting forms, he warns me.

I don't expect you to, Vaan. You stay just as you are.

With a low growl, he releases his claws from their tight grip on my waist. I don't move out of his hold just yet. "Truce, like you said," I tell the Salorian. "I won't try any bullshit if you don't."

"Fair enough. Please, come sit." He gestures at the table of refreshments under the airy, pretty tent down below.

Vaan? I ask, but I don't even have to. A split second later the dragon's scooped me up in his claws again and then descends the side of the building with a heavy, solid thump that shakes several roofs nearby. The soldiers look alarmed, clutching their guns as Vaan slinks forward—well, about as much as a whale can “slink” through shallow water. He's not stealthy in the slightest, but he makes it very, very clear that he is Not To Be Fucked With. A low warning growl rumbles in his chest, and everyone seems to shrink back except for the Salorian.

He looks bored, flicking a bit of dirt off of one pale sleeve.

Vaan moves forward next to the table and gently sets me down by one of the chairs. The Salorian moves across from us, and he studies me for a moment. "You're wearing a gun."

"Your men have guns," I point out.

"If I send them away, will you put aside yours?"

I blink. "Sure."

He turns and looks at the men. "Away. All of you."

"Sir—"

"Do you think your gun will protect me more than the dragons covering this city?" His lip curls with arrogant displeasure. "Be gone."

The men nod and shoulder their weapons. "Yes, sir." The one that must be in charge looks at the others, gestures for them to leave, and is the last one to file out.