Phoenix (25 page)

“Is there a woman living here, who looks like this woman?” Felix held up the picture again. Maybe he should have brought his mother, or sisters at least. If there was a petite dragon woman inside the house, the man surely felt it necessary to protect her.

The man looked up from the paper, and Felix realized he was scrutinizing his eyes.

Felix had in color-dulling contacts. Did Grandma Faye’s old friend even know about such a thing, or did she still wear the glasses?

He didn’t want to risk giving away that he was a dragon if the man at the door wasn’t hiding a dragon. But something about the man’s hesitation told Felix he’d have been turned away already if there wasn’t some connection.

Hoping he wasn’t making a foolish mistake—and hoping even more that he didn’t frighten the old man into calling the police—Felix reached up and slipped one contact lens to the side of his eye, revealing a wide sliver of bright red before letting the lens slip back into place.

“Oh. Oh my. Wait right here.” The man closed the door.

From the sound of clunking metal, Felix guessed the man was engaging every lock on the door. Then footsteps pattered away somewhere inside the house.

Felix took a step back on the stoop and waited, as instructed. Surely if the man called the police, they’d arrive with lights flashing and Felix would have a chance to get away.

He looked up at the windows above him and saw movement behind one curtain. Felix still had the picture of his grandmother, but the man had taken the letter.

Felix would need it back if it turned out he had the wrong house.

But no, there was a petite, dark-haired woman looking down at him from one of the windows above. It was difficult to say for sure, from his vantage point below, but she appeared to resemble the woman in the picture.

Sure enough, after a wait that was so long, it went past rude to plain annoying, the man came back down and let Felix enter, leading him to a parlor where the woman sat on a tall chair, almost like a queen, with a toy poodle on her lap and two more on the floor at her feet.

“Let me see the picture,” she demanded, first thing, before introducing herself.

Her accent wasn’t as pronounced as the man’s. Felix was grateful for that. He handed over the picture and explained that Faye Goodwin was his grandmother.

“What ever became of her?” the French woman asked.

“She died forty years ago, after laying my mother’s egg, but before it was hatched.” Felix knew full well that, if the woman before him wasn’t a dragon, she’d be confused by his reference to eggs and hatching. But she didn’t seem at all surprised, only sad.

“Faye was such a good friend to me. One of the last.”

Felix studied her as she removed her tinted glasses and dabbed at her eyes.

Surely she was a dragon. Besides the fact that she still looked young—with her tiny frame and delicate face, she could have passed for being in her early teens—her eyes glowed with a jewel-toned pinkish color, more tourmaline than chalcedony (as dragons, Felix and all his siblings had to learn the names of all the gemstones in their treasure hoard, which was vast).

“Do tell me your story, Child,” the woman requested.

So Felix launched in to a lengthy account of his grandmother’s adventures, which had led to her being rescued by his grandfather Elmir, and the birth of his mother, on through their escapades up to that morning. It was a rather long story, and the woman listened patiently.

As Felix finally reached the part that led through that day and his visit with her, he asked, “Would you like to return with me to Edinburg, to meet the others?”

He expected her to respond with eagerness. After all, he had gone to great lengths to find her. He’d done all the difficult work, and now she had only to accept his invitation.

But the woman toyed with a strand of pearls at her neck, and looked up with uncertainty to the man who’d opened the door, who had been stationed to one side behind her chair the entire time, a bit like a bodyguard.

And old, frail bodyguard.

“I don’t leave Paris,” the woman simpered.

There then ensued an extremely long conversation, which was composed of Felix asking the woman direct questions and trying to be helpful, while the woman mostly simpered and played with her pearls and answered evasively and looked helplessly up at the man, whose name turned out to be Pierre.

Very little came of that conversation. Felix learned the woman was named Alyda Etincelle, that she hadn’t seen another dragon since his grandmother’s last visit, and that she lived a reclusive existence in her apartment, pampering herself and her dogs and watching the world change its frightening face outside her window.

The woman was interested in meeting the other dragons, but she simply refused to leave Paris.

With no other way around the question, Felix feared he’d have to go back for his family, interrupt their work, and devise some means of getting them all back to Paris to meet the woman. When he spoke aloud about his concerns, he noted his doubt that Chen and Zhi would have passports, or even be able to get passports, with no record of their birth or parents.

“Where are they from?” Alyda asked.

“Northern China, near the Mongolian border.”

“Oh? I used to know dragons from China. They taught me their language.” Alyda then rattled off something in Chinese, which Felix caught very little of, but whatever it was must have amused her greatly, because she giggled and looked up at him, her eyes suddenly brighter than they’d been all during their conversation. “All right, you have convinced me. I will go to Scotland with you. But my papers are so very old—I must make myself look old to match them.”

While Felix got on his phone and booked a return flight to Edinburgh—three tickets, since Alyda refused to go without Pierre—Alyda donned a white wig, and used makeup to artfully age herself until she matched the photograph on her passport (for which she must have undergone similar preparations). Thankfully, though she insisted she hated to leave Paris or even her apartment, Alyda had at least gone to the trouble of keeping her paperwork current, even if it meant disguising herself as a ninety-year-old woman.

“Someday soon, I suppose, I’ll have to present myself again as a young woman, and pass myself off as my own granddaughter. That’s what I did the last time. But the rules are so much more sophisticated now. I don’t know if they’d let me through. The world is moving ahead without me. Makeup can only do so much.”

Once she was ready, she grabbed a walking cane and packed a small bag, and the three of them took the train together to the airport. Alyda walked briskly enough until they arrived. Then she leaned on her cane and gave a convincing impression of an elderly woman. Her stooped posture helped hide her face, as her white wig then partially veiled her less-than-elderly features.

Felix was relieved once they made it through security. While they waited for their flight, he called Ed and asked him to pick them up at the Edinburgh airport. Then he tried to chat with Alyda, hoping to learn more about her history and family and the dragons she’d known, but she only shook her head and insisted she felt too nervous to speak.

It wasn’t a good sign. Felix mostly felt annoyed by this woman—even more annoyed than he’d felt with Zhi. And the fact that she was so reluctant to leave Paris, well, it didn’t bode well for matrimony, since he had never been fond of large, sophisticated cities, and Paris was one of the largest, most sophisticated cities in all of Europe, and even the world.

It was lovely enough to visit now and then, but if he had to live there all the time, and never leave, it would feel like a prison to him.

The flight sent smoothly and they found Ed with little difficulty, though the ride home turned out to be slightly awkward since Ed’s truck only seated three people at best. So Felix lay down out of sight in the back end, and they reached the apartment without further incident.

Once inside, the tiny apartment felt even more crowded. Alyda appeared to be completely overwhelmed. Fortunately, the Melikovs picked up on her trepidation and gave her space. Soon she was engaged in a lively conversation in Chinese with Chen and Zhi.

Felix found a spot on the sofa next to Zilpha. “Find any other dragons?”

“Not a whisper. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s exciting finding dragons, but it’s also a great deal of work, and rather—” He bit off his words.

But his sister knew him too well. “Disappointing?”

“I don’t care for either of them. I mean, I’m glad to have found them. And grandfather seems to like Zhi.”

“He does. And she likes him,” Zilpha confirmed. “And Chen seems enamored of Alyda already—which could prove to be a boon, because someday, our nieces and nephews will need mates they’re not already related to.”

Felix nodded, and thought there was nothing more to what Zilpha was saying, but then he noticed his sister pointing discretely to Wren.

“What?” Felix asked.

“She’s going to lay an egg.”

“What? Wren? Are you sure?”

“Quite sure. She’s sure, anyway. We talked about it. She’s thrilled. Ed is over the moon. Haven’t you noticed him beaming?”

“I can’t say that I really paid attention.” Felix attributed his ignorance to having spent the ride back from the airport lying down in the rear of the truck, which made it far more difficult for him to notice the driver beaming.

“Well, there are going to be nieces and nephews. Ram and Nia want to start a family soon, too. There will be more dragons in this world. They’re going to be cousins and I—” Zilpha’s voice caught, and Felix wondered if perhaps this was an emotional cue, such as Ed’s beaming, that perhaps he ought to pick up on.

“I’m happy for them,” Zilpha finished in a hasty breath, her voice higher than usual.

Felix recalled that his sister had always wanted to marry and have children. More than any of the five siblings, she’d been determined to marry, spending hours pouring over history books, searching for clues that might lead her to dragons. But she’d never found any.

“Zilpha?” Felix began, unsure what to say to make her feel better.

“It’s fine. I’m glad for them. I always wanted cousins. And someday—” she cleared her throat and shook her head. “It’s fine. We’ve gone through all the papers today, and found no more clues to dragons, and that’s okay.”

“Were you hoping to find a male?” Felix asked, realizing once the words were out that of course she was.

“There wasn’t much chance of it, I know.” Zilpha shrugged. “But I couldn’t help hoping.”

Across the room, Alyda and Chen were laughing at some shared joke, while Elmir and Zhi stood shoulder-to-shoulder, packing away books in a box.

Felix swallowed back a rogue lump in his throat. He hadn’t found what he’d come for. Well he had, but not really. He’d found female dragons, but he hadn’t found a wife.

Still, his efforts had contributed to the world dragon population in some way. He’d done his part, even if it wasn’t the part he’d intended. And for the time being, it would have to be enough.

“You’ll find a mate someday, Zilpha. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, I know.” She patted his knee and then rose, heading across the room to help pack books.

Felix couldn’t help but be impressed with the confidence in her tone. It was almost as though she consoled herself with the secret knowledge of another dragon, somewhere out there, who she might take as her mate.

But that couldn’t be it. Could it?

The End

And now, here’s the promised glimpse of Zilpha’s story, Vixen.

Vixen: A Sneak Peek at the First Four Chapters

Chapter One

“It’s too dangerous. I don’t think you should go.”

I stop in the middle of tugging on my cardigan sweater and stare at my friend Jala. “Don’t think I should go?” I repeat, unsure what she could possibly mean. “Not go, when? Tomorrow? You think I should hold off a day or two?” I shove my arm through my sleeve and wait for her answer.

Jala’s making this lip-chewing, scrunched-nose face that says she knows exactly what she wants to say, but she knows I don’t want to hear it. Or maybe I’m just projecting.

Yes, hopefully that’s it.

Jala takes a deep breath. “I don’t think you should go, ever.”

“But that’s the whole reason I’m here—”

“I know! But it’s too dangerous.”

“We talked this over last summer. You agreed to help me then. What’s changed?”

“Honestly, Zilpha?” Jala shakes her head regretfully. “I thought you would come to your senses and change your mind. I agreed because it was a year away, and I knew if I argued with you, you’d only dig in your heels that much more—”

“Dig in my heels?”

“You are a dragon. The most notoriously stubborn creatures on earth, which only still exist because they were too obstinate to die off with the dinosaurs.” There’s half a good-natured smile on Jala’s face, so I know she’s only teasing me. But the rest of her expression says she’s scared. Scared of my plan, of what might happen to me—scared of admitting she doesn’t want to help me out, after all.

I’ve got my sweater on and buttoned up against the Siberian cold. It may be summer again, but it’s still Siberia. I haven’t been here since last summer, when my sister’s now-husband defeated the mutant water-yagi, and my brother met his now-wife. Amazing how much the world can change in a year.

But Siberia is still cold.

And I haven’t changed my mind about my plan to seduce Ion—although seduce isn’t technically the right word for it. That makes it sound like I know what I’m doing, like I’m some kind of seductress, which is laughable. But what other word is there? Woo? Flirt with?

I plan to do something between flirt with and seduce. I am not a seductress. I am a...vixen. Yeah, a flirty, woo-some, dragon woman. And I am here to somehow convince Ion that he and I need to be together.

I mean, Ion may be my family’s arch-enemy, and there was that one time when he almost killed my father (yes, on purpose) but he’s also the only single male dragon in the world who I’m not already related to.