Margery came back to awareness to the sound of arguing.

“What did you do to her, you cretin?” Casimiro said, the outrage in his voice vibrating through her.

She was being carried in Remy’s arms, and they tightened around her. “She’s doing too much. She needs to recover.”

I’m fine, Margery tried to say, but it was hard to speak, even harder to open her eyes.

“Guys?” Viola said, her voice far away.

“You are a liability and a fraud. Get out of here. Go jump in a lake where you belong.” Casimiro tried to take her from Remy, but Remy’s body reacted, and Casimiro yelped in pain. “You’ll pay for that, you little pissant.”

“Guys!” Viola shouted. “Take her outside. She needs the sun. I can see her spirit fading in the weave.”

Wind blew against Margery’s face as Remy raced with her somewhere. She felt him kick a door off its hinges, and then she was in the sun again. Her eyes opened.

“Remy,” she croaked. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” he told her.

“Put her down,” Casimiro roared. He limped after them.

Remy sat her in a white wrought-iron chair. They were in a park of some sort, only there were huge buildings surrounding it. It looked like a college campus, but more businesslike. She could see a labyrinth and stone statues of dragons of all shapes and sizes.

“Where are we?”

“New York. In Reed’s compound,” Viola said, kneeling next to her. “Are you all right, honey?”

Margery nodded.

“Of course she’s not all right.” Casimiro sank to his knees beside her as well.

“I’m okay, Cas,” she said. “I just overdid it. Like Remy said.”

“You need to be in bed.”

“I’ve been asleep this entire time.” Margery tried to stand up, but it was a little awkward when Casimiro refused to move off his knees in front of her. He gave her a seductive smile and let his gaze wander over her.

“Get up.” She smacked him. “Give me some room.”

“I’ll give you everything you need, corazoncito. Unlike some others.”

“What I need is to have Reed’s files.”

“He told me to give you this.” Viola handed her a mug of tea.

“Oh!” Margery wrapped her hands around it and took an appreciative sniff. Earl Grey. Maybe Reed wasn’t all bad.

Viola showed her a new MacBook Air while Margery drank in the fragrant scent of ginger-peach black tea.

“Shiny,” Margery said in approval, sipping her hot tea. “This is very generous of him,” she added with a sidelong glance at Remy, whose face was back into its stone mask.

Viola snorted. “It’s a bribe. He wants the doctors to look you over. He thinks the prisoners injected you with something and that’s what’s causing you not to be able to shift.”

“Can he bring them out here so I can talk to him?”

“He’s questioning them right now. The doctors should be here any minute.”

“Where’s Sergei?”

“He’s helping Reed with the ‘questioning.’” Viola made air quotes.

“What about Carolyn?”

“She’s on the phone with either Arianna or Mei Hua. I distinctly heard the phrases ‘suck it up, buttercup’ and ‘bring that shit to me,’ so I decided to come out here where it’s safe.”

Casimiro shifted into his dragon form. “I will protect the Queens. Join me, Chump, and we’ll provide a fearsome defense.”

Remy ignored his jibe and laid his hands on Margery’s shoulders, softly massaging them. She leaned her cheek against his hand while Casimiro preened and primped, but when he realized he was being ignored pushed into the air and flew above their heads in a protective circle.

“So what do you know about the sky dance?” Margery asked Viola.

“Never heard of it. But Reed has some experts flying in to show you.”

Remy’s hands tightened on her shoulders.

The doctors were also dragons, and once they realized that Margery needed to be outside, the garden bustled with more dragons in various forms setting up an outdoor examination room.

Margery powered up the computer and started reading through Reed’s files. He was anal-retentive about his paperwork, and she was impressed in spite of herself by his thoroughness. Even though the victims were human, he was taking the investigation seriously.

She checked through all the dead women to see if one of them was Bella. All of the women died carrying dragon eggs, but Margery didn’t see anyone she recognized. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not that Bella wasn’t in Reed’s files. On the one hand, it meant that she might still be alive. Of course on the other hand, it could also mean they’d buried her body where no one would ever find her. Margery hoped for the best.

After that quick glance of pictures that would haunt her dreams for days, she opened up the dossiers on each of her attackers. They were common thugs with nothing in common. She was about to click on the warehouse files when Remy grumbled a warning as one of the doctors came closer.

“Hello, my Queen. I am Dr. Able. Is your consort here?” a handsome, dark-skinned man asked. His voice had a hint of an English accent. He wore the requisite doctor’s lab coat and a male nurse followed him.

Remy growled, and the male nurse fled. “I am Queen Margery’s consort,” Remy said.

“Then you’ll want to be present for the examination.”

“Um.” Margery was about to protest, but the look of sheer fury Remy shot her had her swallowing it. “Right.” She hopped up on the large examination table. They were inside a makeshift pavilion, but the roof flapped open, and the sun touched everything inside.

“I’ll take the sky patrol so no perverts look in,” Viola said and shifted into the three-headed dragon Margery recognized from her rescue.

“No funny stuff, Doc, or I’ll bite your arm off,” the red goat head said.

“Just ignore her,” the white horse head said. “She’s off her meds.”

“Don’t worry, Margery,” the violet head said in Viola’s voice. “You’re safe here. You’ve got Champ and me, and even though Casimiro may be a grade-A louse, he won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I need you to shift into your dragon form,” Able said to Margery when Viola took to the sky.

Margery watched her in longing and stretched herself up to join her. It felt like a giant hand slapped her back down to Earth. She saw stars, and the blackness threatened.

“Margery,” Remy cried and reached over to cradle her upper body into his arms.

“I’m okay,” she said, closing her eyes and feeling the sun melt away the darkness.

“Hmm,” Able said. “I’m going to do a host of diagnostics. I need to take blood and urine. I’m going to set up an EKG also to get a baseline. Tell me who your human doctor was, and I’ll get your records from him.”

It took the rest of the day, poking, prodding, and peeing in a cup. Margery was hooked up to monitors and had electrodes taped to her body. When the sun started to set, she began to shiver uncontrollably.

“I think it’s best that you stay exposed to the sky,” Able said. “I’ll have the studs bring out some bedding so you and your court can stay out here for the night.”

After a brief meeting, Casimiro shifted back to human form to carry in several mattresses. Two men behind him brought in silk coverings, pillows, and puffy-looking comforters. The pavilion was starting to resemble something out of Arabian Nights.

“I am Rathin, a naga.” One of the men bowed to her. He was dressed like an Indian prince, and he offered her a box of jewels. The emerald was as big as an egg, and several sapphires and rubies winked back at her. “My tribute to Queen Margery for allowing me to serve in her court for this night.”

Margery was a little confused, but she figured Reed had arranged this. She didn’t mind the extra bodyguards, but it was a little strange that she was going to bunk down with her old lover, her future lover, and some strange men.

“I am Seriah, a sky dragon.” The other held out his hand as if to shake hers, but when his fingers clasped hers, he pressed a Smooshie doll into her hands. Margery stared at it in shock. Remy lunged at Seriah, wrestling him to the ground.

“I don’t understand,” Seriah said. “I was told the Queen favored the toys.”

Casimiro plucked it out of her hands.

“Who told you that?” Remy demanded, slamming Seriah’s head against the ground.

“Remy, stop,” Margery said.

Casimiro slit open the doll with a talon, and dragon feathers fluttered to the ground, along with a chunk of plastic explosive and wires. Remy shifted, tackling Margery in his coils. She had just enough time to scream before every part of her was enveloped by him. Blind, deaf, she fought down panic. What the hell was happening?

Rolling, Remy took the pavilion with him as the explosion blew him back several yards.

“Margery,” he whispered.

She could feel him against her, knew that his scales had protected her from the shrapnel and the heat. It burned, and she could almost taste the magic that sprouted up from the explosive. He continued to roll, protecting her—until he hit a building.

“Are you okay?” she whispered back.

“Are you?”

She had to take a mental inventory.

Commandos poured out of the building, but Remy didn’t shift back. They either hopped over him or went around.

“Say something to me,” he begged.

“What the hell was that?” Her voice was smothered, and he loosened his coils up slightly so she could peek her head up at him.

“That was war.” Remy trembled.

Was this how they killed Cassandra?

“Was it the Cult of Humanity?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”