Chapter Six
Flora
INSUFFERABLE. HE KIDNAPS me, brings me here, and deserts me. It doesn’t help that he’s too good looking for his own good. Okay, I’ll admit he’s more than good looking, but a man cannot survive on looks alone, and it will do him no good when it comes to winning me.
I grab the sword I found yesterday and work it in my hand for a moment to warm up my wrist. I doubt my dragon will appreciate landing on his knees with a knot in his throat that won’t go away completely for a few days. He’s lucky I pulled the punch.
I don’t have long to wait, and I’m in my fighting stance when he storms into the room with a roar. Man, does he have a set of lungs when he can breathe.
Flick, flick. I twist my wrist again ready to strike.
He stops and drills me with eyes filled with perplexity. “That’s my sword.”
“Mine now,” I answer with seeming boredom.
“Give it back.”
I lift my arm to an en garde position ready to remove his head. And such a gorgeous head it is. His hair may be dirty but it’s lovely. Full and wavy to go with his thick, long eyelashes. No man should be this pretty.
“That’s my sword,” he says again.
“Prepare to have your head removed with your own sword, then. I know it’s bad form to use your own weapon to kill you, but you’ve left me no choice. Take me back home or lose your head.”
He walks closer and I don’t so much as blink. His next action is too quick to follow and it makes me dizzy. I stare down at my hand, which is now minus a sword. Slowly I raise my head. He’s twirling the damn thing like it’s a baton. Sacrilege. “Give that back.” It’s the first thing that comes out of my mouth even if it is stupid.
He adds another twirl. “I told you it was my sword. Don’t touch my stuff. If you want a sword, I’ll have someone in the village make you one.”
This throws me because I’ve flown as far as I could in every direction around his castle and saw nothing resembling a village. “There’s a village?” I ask. I also need to find out about the shield blocking me from leaving this realm but I’ll save that for later.
He leans against the wall while twirling the damn sword. “There’s a village in the next realm.”
Argh, he’s driving me insane. “Explain realms to me.” I know a little, but this is the first time I’ve actually been to another one.
He cocks an eyebrow. “Are you giving me orders?”
I roll my eyes. “Are you taking me home?”
“No.”
“Then I’m giving you orders. Explain realms to me and then take me home.”
His hand passes over his throat and I don’t bother hiding my smile. I’m dangerous and he doesn’t want to admit it. Of course, with how easily he removed the sword from my hand, I know he’s dangerous too. He doesn’t know about the small magic trick up my sleeve, and I’ll keep it to myself until I really need it.
“Fly with me.”
Maybe I didn’t hear him right.
“I have a saddle or I’ll carry you. Maybe if you get out for a bit you’ll be in a better disposition by lunch.”
Now he’s pissing me off again. Before I can utter a response, I’m lifted into the air, carried outside, and tossed from the balcony. Damn. My clothes. I start tearing out of the stupid over-sized shirt I’m wearing and look at the ground, which is getting entirely too close. A sharp jerk to my shoulders lifts me twenty feet up almost instantly and then higher still. My feet clear the turret with mere inches to spare.
“Forget the saddle, you took too long to answer, and you’ll learn quickly I have no patience.”
The buffoon. I hate him. Swinging my body up and around is easy. I take my time and make it look harder than it is, though. When I’m upright, holding tight to his talons and looking out at the scenery, the dragon’s voice goes off in my head again. “It’s good that heights don’t bother you and I’m impressed you didn’t scream when I tossed you over the side of the tower.”
Egotistical maniac. The fact he’s able to speak in my head just irritates me more. My screams were silent and all included curse words attached to sparky pants’ name. I decide to ignore him and enjoy the scenery. He wisely goes quiet and my stress lowers a notch. I love the air from this height and I’ve never experienced it in my human form. I lift the frames of my glasses slightly and see a small scurrying critter. My heartbeat accelerates with thoughts of hunting. No, I tell myself silently, just enjoy the beautiful area. Ashrac would be surprised if I shifted and attacked the creature below us. Hell, he might eat me. I’d rather save the surprise for a time when he isn’t in his dragon form. I’m unsure what effects shifting has on his tiny brain, but when I’m in eagle form, my hunting drive fine-tunes and I’m lethal. At least when it comes to anything I can hold in my talons. Ashrac can easily carry a human, so I know he can eat one.
I had tried to break through whatever barrier holds me in this dang blasted kingdom with no luck. I flew away from some invisible wall with bruised feathers instead. Okay, it’s the wings that hold the feathers. They’re bruised but I can feel it throughout each separate feather. Repeated hits against the barrier became bad for my health, so I stopped trying. I need Ashrac to take me across, but I have no idea how to handle the asking. If I tell him I know about the barrier, he’ll have questions I don’t wish to answer now.
Suddenly, we rise rapidly and my hanging feet almost hit the side of the mountain Ashrac ascends. His power is glorious and I fight not to laugh in glee at his death-defying tricks. He swoops over the crest and plunges down the other side. I can’t help the “whoop” I let out.
“You like that?” he asks in my head, sounding bewildered.
“Of course I like it. Do it again.”
“Okay, but if you act like you’re scared, it will put me in a better mood,” he grumbles.
I need to find a more fitting word than buffoon and sparky pants to describe my kidnapper. Nincompoop, blockhead, and dumbbell don’t have the proper connotation, so I’ll keep thinking. “Oh, I’m so scared,” I squeal as we plunge down the side of the mountain again. Ninnypooper doesn’t seem to mind my false intonation. He laughs gleefully even when he knows he hasn’t terrified me. I’ve come to the conclusion dragons are simpleminded.
Ashrac circles the mountain again and then turns us back toward his castle. I’m disappointed the ride didn’t last longer. I’ll sneak out and take my own flight as soon as he leaves me to go back to his infernal lab. He’s like the evil professor coming up with some diabolical plan. Now that scares me.
“I need sustenance, woman,” he says after dropping me on the landing pad outside my room. Again, his voice comes from inside my head because he hasn’t shifted. This is the first chance I get to admire his dragon form. He’s the size of a building with red scales. I’ve had no dealings with dragons and admit the size of his teeth are enough to send most people running and screaming for their life.
I roll my eyes at his “sustenance” comment and look my fill. He’s red, big, bulky, and scaly. I would give anything to show off my sleek form right now. Oh, and he stinks. It must be a dragon thing. Maybe they melt in water or soap burns their skin.
“Food,” he growls when I don’t answer him right away.
I shrug. “It’s your death. Show me the kitchen.” I don’t mention my growling belly or the weakness in my limbs from lack of food. That small rabbit seems so long ago. I can cook, I just don’t want to cook for him. Then I change my mind. Payback is a bitch sometimes and this might be fun.
Directions to the kitchen spit into my head. I don’t bother thanking him. He flies away as soon as I turn to enter my room and then walk through the door in search of food. I climb down the tower stairs and head to the back of the main room. I walk through large double doors into a massive dining room. A huge table and chairs for at least twenty people is the only furniture in the room. The chairs themselves are massive and I can just imagine a room full of dragons who could practically crush the legs when they sit, enjoying a meal at this table. I don’t stand around gaping for more than a few seconds because now I’m on a mission.
I walk through a large swinging door and stop.
Oh hell no. The dragon hasn’t washed a dish in his life. Every counter is covered in dirty dishes, pots, and pans. I’m surprised food doesn’t drip from the ceiling it’s so nasty. I glance upward just in case. At least I’m safe from food dollops falling on my head.
What are my choices? I run them through in my head: Murder the dragon or clean the kitchen. Murder the dragon and clean the kitchen or… my mind just goes back to murdering the dragon.
I roll up the sleeves of the dragon’s shirt and start cleaning; all the while my stomach growls between cussing. I hate cleaning, but I hate filthy more. I estimate an hour passes before shiny metal appliances and marble countertops greet me. I slowly run my fingers over the newly cleaned counters and walk to the stove. It looks odd and it takes a moment for me to figure out it’s not gas or electric; it’s a wood burning stove with an edgy look, so it fits the room. There’s no microwave or dishwasher, but there is a sink which I used to clean the dragon’s mess. I open cabinets without discovering actual food. Plates, cups, and utensils are here but no ingredients. Next I open a small door thinking it’s a pantry only to find stairs. Cool air rolls up at me and I take a tentative step downward. Four steps down, turn, and another four more steps lead into a cellar, pantry, aka refrigerator. The room has everything and it’s cool enough to keep the food from spoiling too quickly. It’s also surprisingly organized. A recipe plan develops in my brain as I gaze around and rub my hands together in delight. I gather the items I need and carry them upstairs.
If the dragon wants to eat, I’ll give him a meal he’ll never forget. My plan is simple… give dragonbreath a taste of his own medicine.