Dragon Storm
Page 39
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Bee seemed to have a spasm of some sort. “A what now? Ladyplant?”
“Yes, you know.” He gestured toward Bee’s ladyplant. “That part of you that is likened to a garden. I do not know what modern terminology is—the ladies at the Our Bodies, Ourselves seminar refused to tell me. They claimed ladyplant was their new favorite phrase. One of them said she was going to embroider it on a garment.”
Bee blinked at him a couple of times. “And this makes you think you’re a feminist?”
“I didn’t say that. I said that I am in touch with what women like and need, and you liked me touching you in your ladyplant area. You liked the device despite declaring you wouldn’t. We spent an enjoyable hour together, and I thought we might do so again.”
“Sadly for my peace of mind, I suspect we will spend many more hours together using that device—” Bee eyed it with an expression that mingled satisfaction with disbelief. “—but that’s really neither here nor there. I have to get in touch with Aisling to hear what her demon found out about your daddy.”
Pain twisted in Constantine’s gut. He made an abbreviated gesture of denial and flung back the sheets to rise. “Do not call him that. The day he tortured and killed my mother in an attempt to bring me to heel he lost the right to be named such.”
Bee was in his arms before he had his balance, and the two of them tumbled backward onto the bed. Bee wrapped her arms around him, kissing his shoulder and nuzzling his neck in a way that both inflamed him and brought him a strange sense of comfort. “He killed your mom?”
“Yes. That is one reason why I did not wish to engage him in battle—he strikes quickly and hard, and always at the most dearly held possession.”
“What—you don’t have to answer this if it’s too painful—what happened that he would do that to your mother?”
Her breath was warm and sweet on his neck, and as he shifted her slightly to the side so that she was no longer crushing his penis, he toyed with the thought of commencing a seduction to keep her in his bed. The memory of that time long in the past drove out all thoughts of pleasure, however. “I was named by the wyvern of the black dragons as his heir—at least I was until Baltic, another of the First Dragon’s sons, usurped my position, and claimed the sept for his own. By that time, Kashi was already befriending those beings who would lead him into becoming a demon lord, and he wished for me to follow him. I refused. He struck back in a way that he knew would devastate me: by killing my entire family.”
“I’m sorry, Constantine, I’m so sorry.” She kissed his jaw, his cheek, and finally his mouth. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I lost both of mine in a senseless act of violence when they went to help the underprivileged in Africa, but at least I had my sister and brother to share my grief. I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for you to struggle through the loss of your family on your own.”
Constantine allowed himself a moment of remembered grief, then set it aside as he had so many times. “I regret that you, too, have had the pain of losing a parent, and I would be happy to comfort you, but you must remove your clothing in order that I do so. Or allow me to remove it. Have you more garments with you?” He lifted a hand and wiggled his fingers. “Dragons tend to show our origins by means of claws when we are sexually excited. I would not purposely shred your clothing while removing it, but you tempt me more than any other woman, and I can’t guarantee that your garments might not be damaged.”
“Claws, huh?” She pushed herself off him and eyed his hand. “You didn’t go claw-boy earlier. I’d have noticed that.”
“I retained superior control of myself because I knew you were hesitant over allowing me to demonstrate a toy.”
“Is that so?” She got to her feet, rebuttoning the buttons on her shirt that he had just slid open, and made a face at herself in a mirror. “I look like I was dragged through a hedge backward.”
“Or you just had an extremely satisfying sexual engagement with a wyvern,” he answered, blowing a little ring of fire at her, and throwing as much come-hither into his eyes as was possible.
She resisted it, the little minx. Instead she just laughed and slid the strap of her bag across her torso. “That was pretty slick, and I am truly tempted, but if this curse is ever to be lifted, then I have to put duty before your sexy self. I assume I’ll be able to find a taxi outside?”
“No.”
“Really? Drat.” She frowned. “I’ll have to go out a few streets to try to catch one, then.”
“No, you will not.” He rose and reached for his clothing. “I will take you to the green mate’s house. We will deal with Bael together.”
“Are you sure?” She watched him dress, her brows still together. “I was wrong to flip you shit for not wanting to help, and I would feel horrible if you let me guilt you into doing something that you’d rather not. You certainly have a solid reason for not wishing to get involved with your fa—with Bael.”
“We have already discussed the matter, and I will not change my mind. Bael being loose may not be my responsibility, but I feel obligated to do what I can to end what will only result in a reign of terror for everyone.” He pulled on his shoes and, after a moment’s thought, picked up a small black box and spoke into it. “Bee and I are going to the green wyvern’s house to discuss Bael. Do you wish to stay?”
“Who are you talking to?” Bee asked, reaching for the lock on the door.
“Gary.”
She gave him an oddly unreadable look. “You bought him a walkie-talkie?”
“No. That would be ridiculous. It’s all he can do to manipulate the remote that controls his truck.”
She just looked at him.
He gave a little cough. “I bought a communications earpiece set from a shop catering to surveillance officials. It seems to work quite well for us.”
“Uh huh. And this from the man who claims he wants to leave poor Gary on the roadside because he’s so much trouble.”
Constantine thinned his lips at her at the same time that tinny static came out of the small box, followed by loud music, over which Gary could be heard to say, “Hey, chicky, you ever made it with a disembodied head? Oh, hello, Constantine. Are you and Bee finished? So soon? You must have been very forceful. Did she like the silk lift? Did you?”
“Yes, you know.” He gestured toward Bee’s ladyplant. “That part of you that is likened to a garden. I do not know what modern terminology is—the ladies at the Our Bodies, Ourselves seminar refused to tell me. They claimed ladyplant was their new favorite phrase. One of them said she was going to embroider it on a garment.”
Bee blinked at him a couple of times. “And this makes you think you’re a feminist?”
“I didn’t say that. I said that I am in touch with what women like and need, and you liked me touching you in your ladyplant area. You liked the device despite declaring you wouldn’t. We spent an enjoyable hour together, and I thought we might do so again.”
“Sadly for my peace of mind, I suspect we will spend many more hours together using that device—” Bee eyed it with an expression that mingled satisfaction with disbelief. “—but that’s really neither here nor there. I have to get in touch with Aisling to hear what her demon found out about your daddy.”
Pain twisted in Constantine’s gut. He made an abbreviated gesture of denial and flung back the sheets to rise. “Do not call him that. The day he tortured and killed my mother in an attempt to bring me to heel he lost the right to be named such.”
Bee was in his arms before he had his balance, and the two of them tumbled backward onto the bed. Bee wrapped her arms around him, kissing his shoulder and nuzzling his neck in a way that both inflamed him and brought him a strange sense of comfort. “He killed your mom?”
“Yes. That is one reason why I did not wish to engage him in battle—he strikes quickly and hard, and always at the most dearly held possession.”
“What—you don’t have to answer this if it’s too painful—what happened that he would do that to your mother?”
Her breath was warm and sweet on his neck, and as he shifted her slightly to the side so that she was no longer crushing his penis, he toyed with the thought of commencing a seduction to keep her in his bed. The memory of that time long in the past drove out all thoughts of pleasure, however. “I was named by the wyvern of the black dragons as his heir—at least I was until Baltic, another of the First Dragon’s sons, usurped my position, and claimed the sept for his own. By that time, Kashi was already befriending those beings who would lead him into becoming a demon lord, and he wished for me to follow him. I refused. He struck back in a way that he knew would devastate me: by killing my entire family.”
“I’m sorry, Constantine, I’m so sorry.” She kissed his jaw, his cheek, and finally his mouth. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I lost both of mine in a senseless act of violence when they went to help the underprivileged in Africa, but at least I had my sister and brother to share my grief. I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for you to struggle through the loss of your family on your own.”
Constantine allowed himself a moment of remembered grief, then set it aside as he had so many times. “I regret that you, too, have had the pain of losing a parent, and I would be happy to comfort you, but you must remove your clothing in order that I do so. Or allow me to remove it. Have you more garments with you?” He lifted a hand and wiggled his fingers. “Dragons tend to show our origins by means of claws when we are sexually excited. I would not purposely shred your clothing while removing it, but you tempt me more than any other woman, and I can’t guarantee that your garments might not be damaged.”
“Claws, huh?” She pushed herself off him and eyed his hand. “You didn’t go claw-boy earlier. I’d have noticed that.”
“I retained superior control of myself because I knew you were hesitant over allowing me to demonstrate a toy.”
“Is that so?” She got to her feet, rebuttoning the buttons on her shirt that he had just slid open, and made a face at herself in a mirror. “I look like I was dragged through a hedge backward.”
“Or you just had an extremely satisfying sexual engagement with a wyvern,” he answered, blowing a little ring of fire at her, and throwing as much come-hither into his eyes as was possible.
She resisted it, the little minx. Instead she just laughed and slid the strap of her bag across her torso. “That was pretty slick, and I am truly tempted, but if this curse is ever to be lifted, then I have to put duty before your sexy self. I assume I’ll be able to find a taxi outside?”
“No.”
“Really? Drat.” She frowned. “I’ll have to go out a few streets to try to catch one, then.”
“No, you will not.” He rose and reached for his clothing. “I will take you to the green mate’s house. We will deal with Bael together.”
“Are you sure?” She watched him dress, her brows still together. “I was wrong to flip you shit for not wanting to help, and I would feel horrible if you let me guilt you into doing something that you’d rather not. You certainly have a solid reason for not wishing to get involved with your fa—with Bael.”
“We have already discussed the matter, and I will not change my mind. Bael being loose may not be my responsibility, but I feel obligated to do what I can to end what will only result in a reign of terror for everyone.” He pulled on his shoes and, after a moment’s thought, picked up a small black box and spoke into it. “Bee and I are going to the green wyvern’s house to discuss Bael. Do you wish to stay?”
“Who are you talking to?” Bee asked, reaching for the lock on the door.
“Gary.”
She gave him an oddly unreadable look. “You bought him a walkie-talkie?”
“No. That would be ridiculous. It’s all he can do to manipulate the remote that controls his truck.”
She just looked at him.
He gave a little cough. “I bought a communications earpiece set from a shop catering to surveillance officials. It seems to work quite well for us.”
“Uh huh. And this from the man who claims he wants to leave poor Gary on the roadside because he’s so much trouble.”
Constantine thinned his lips at her at the same time that tinny static came out of the small box, followed by loud music, over which Gary could be heard to say, “Hey, chicky, you ever made it with a disembodied head? Oh, hello, Constantine. Are you and Bee finished? So soon? You must have been very forceful. Did she like the silk lift? Did you?”