The Queen's Flight (Emerging Queens) (4 page)

Her mother’s scream jarred her out of her thoughts, and Viola’s neck craned painfully as the force of three heads turned toward the sound.

“Thank you so much for all your help,” the white horse head said to Carolyn.

“Oh, blow it out your ass,” the red goat head shouted at her mother, who was at the window and not bothering to hide her disgust behind the curtain.

Viola craned her middle head to see what her wings were doing and saw a purple dragon hovering in the air. His body was sleek and muscled—just like he was in human form. Silver tiger-like stripes crisscrossed over his body, reflecting the moonlight. His tail was barbed at the end and swished through the air like an irate cat. He back-winged and she flinched from the dust that sprayed up. They stared at each other and she shuddered from his malevolent gaze. What had she ever done to him?

“Okay,” Carolyn said. “Good job. I’m going to drive the car. With all your stuff, there’s not room for you and Sergei, anyway. Reed will pick me up when he’s done beating the crap out of Smythe. Follow Sergei, and he’ll take you to the safe house. You’ll get there first, even with my head start. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Wait, don’t leave me,” Viola said, but Carolyn was already in the car.

She took off, spraying gravel and hitting the gas hard enough that the engine screamed.

“Fly,” Sergei growled.

Viola’s three heads all considered each other. Then she shrugged. Her wings unfurled, cracking like a canvas sail in the wind. She lumbered to a lope and then leapt up into the air like Jack did. Her wings hit her heads, boxing her own ears.

“Ow.”

“Stop fooling around.”

“This is my first time,” Horse said, eyes watering.

“Be gentle with me,” Goat said, winking at him.

“Stop that,” Viola said to her goat head. “I don’t know why it does that.” She smiled apologetically at Sergei, but he continued to flip his tail.

“Any time now.”

“Okay.” Viola flapped her wings and jumped in the air.

“It’s like watching a hippo try to fly,” her mother said from the porch.

“Bite me,” Goat said.

Her mother shook a broom at her.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sergei glared down at her, hovering impatiently.

“I don’t know how to fly.” Viola couldn’t believe this. Only
she
could fail so miraculously in front of not only her mother, but also a dragon she’d like to get back in good graces with—if he even had any.

Just fly, you idiot.
Viola strained so hard, she almost burst a blood vessel.

“Of course you can. You’re a dragon,” Sergei said, flipping his tail like a disgruntled cat.

“I’m trying,” she spat out between her teeth.

“Well, try harder. I’m not going to carry you.” He shuddered in disgust.

“I don’t want you to. I can do this.” Part of her wondered if he thought she was too heavy to pick up. It made her want to sit on him. And not in a fun way.

“What’s going on out there?” Mrs. Johnson stepped out on the porch. She had her camera around her neck.

“No pictures,” Sergei roared, showing a mouthful of impressive teeth.

Mrs. Johnson fled back into the house.

“Now you’ve done it,” the goat said. “The old busybody is probably calling TMZ.”

“I think I’m too fat to fly.” Viola’s horse head lowered almost to the ground.

Sergei sighed. “That’s ridiculous. You need to let go. Let go of all of this bullshit.” He pointed a talon at the twitching curtain. “You have evolved. You are a miracle. Believe it.”

Viola screwed up her courage and ran full out and took a giant leap in the air…and fell on her face in the road. A car swerved to avoid hitting her, honking its horn.

Sergei plowed into her, pushing them both out of the road and knocking them onto the dirt in a tangle of arms, legs, and claws as a truck whipped past them,

“Asshole!” Goat called after the truck.

“Did you have this much trouble flying the first time?” Viola asked, unwinding her limbs from Sergei’s. Dragon form to dragon form, she was bigger, but he was more muscular. Strength and confidence oozed from him in equal measures. He was breathtaking so close to her. For a brief moment, she clung to him just to feel like there was a solid foundation to her crazy mixed up world.

“No, I was flung out of the rookery.”

She let him go, but he didn’t move away. Half buried in a ditch, covered with road dust, Viola’s heart quieted. “How far was the drop?”

“About 700 meters.” He moved off her and she missed his closeness.

Viola blinked. “How many feet is that?”

“A lot.” Sergei climbed back into the air, effortlessly. “Change back to human and get on your bike.”

“I can still see you,” her mother called. “The police are on their way.”

“Shut up!” Sergei and her goat head called back, then he turned to her and said, “I guess you get to keep your bike after all. Head over to I-95. I’ll catch up to you. We don’t have time for flying lessons.”

“I thought you said a dragon can fly faster than my motorcycle?”

“We can. But if I’m flying over you, I might as well take out a huge sign that says ‘Queen Here.’ If we were flying together, we could hide in the clouds. Right now, I want to avoid the human authorities. So put on your helmet and head for New York. You’ll be another bike rider on the highway.”

“How are you going to catch up to me?”

“My bike.”

“What about the other male dragons? What if they smell me out and kidnap me?”

“You’ll be alone for fifteen minutes tops. If your mother wasn’t such a bitch, I’d have you hide here.”

“I can handle fifteen minutes on my own.”

Viola closed her eyes and imagined racing the Hayabusa up I-95. The wind buffeted into her face as Sergei shot into the sky. It felt like speed.

When the thrill for the open road became too much for her, she opened them and stared at her palms, human once more. She patted herself, to make sure she had on clothes and then touched her head—and confirmed there was only one. Viola stood up, looked both ways, and crossed the street.

She expected one last confrontation with her mother, but the door remained firmly shut and the curtains pulled closed. Well, that was it then. She revved the engine so the pipes roared like a dragon.
Eat that, Mrs. Johnson.

Putting on her helmet, she tucked her hair up so her long, blonde strands wouldn’t give her away as a female. Then she turned her back on her former life and headed toward the highway. Hopefully, she wouldn’t run into any dragons hunting for a Queen.

Chapter Five

Reed was long gone, taking the paparazzi with him, by the time Sergei landed in the parking lot of Talon Industries. If Smythe was still conscious, he was keeping a low profile inside. Sergei didn’t usually rat out his friends to the feds, but Smythe was dead wrong in this case. If they stooped to Cassandra’s level and captured and tortured a weaker creature, for fun or because they could, it made them no better than the vile Queens.

Reed’s new Queen, Carolyn, on the other hand, seemed more human than dragon. And to him, that was a good thing. Viola could turn out that way, too. No matter what, they weren’t like Cassandra. He had to keep telling himself that so he didn’t chomp Viola’s head off. Sergei flowed into human form. He disengaged the security from his bike and threw his leg over the seat.

He ignored the panicky feeling in his stomach. He’d been in the presence of two Queens and the only time he’d wanted to choke a bitch was when he was dealing with the old lady whose husband left her for Cassandra. In fact, he’d actually stood up for Viola when her mother went at her.

That was his old training kicking in. It couldn’t be because when he looked at her all he thought about was sex.

He glared at the road, his fingers tightening hard enough to put hairline cracks in the handlebars.

He didn’t want to serve another Queen, no matter how tame she’d be. It did surprise him that he still had courtly manners. He’d figured Cassandra had beaten all formality out of him. One of these days, he’d have to stop letting her define him.

It didn’t matter. Sooner or later these new Queens would turn bitchy, once they realized their power, and he planned to be long gone before that happened. He’d escort Viola to the safe house in Upstate New York and then continue on to Vermont.

As he revved the bike to gain speed, he let his senses expand. He didn’t smell any other dragons—which was the only reason he’d left her alone. Reed would have his head, anyway, or at least he’d try. Sergei smiled to himself. It might be worth it to see whose poison was more virulent. Reed had a breath weapon that spat a corrosive poison at his enemy, but Sergei’s tail held a sting that rivaled a fat tail scorpion.

A human would be paralyzed instantly and suffocate as their lungs and heart stopped. A dragon, depending on where the sting landed, would also be impaired. Multiple strikes and the dragon would stop moving, allowing him to perform a coup de grace.

Not that he wanted to kill Reed. He and Jack were do-gooders, and while Sergei didn’t have time in his life for that nonsense, the world could use all the help it could get.

He signaled and tore up the entrance ramp, pushing the speed up past ninety.

Speed equaled freedom. He’d been chained because he was so fast he could beat any pursuer. He held the record for most escape attempts and bore the whip marks on his body to prove it. Of course, in hindsight, if he hadn’t been such a rebel he wouldn’t even had popped up on Cassandra’s radar.

One stud among the harem
.

He opened the bike up full throttle and pinned it at one-hundred-and-ninety miles an hour. Using his dragon reflexes, he ran up the middle line, dodging passing cars as if they were standing still. One of these days he’d outrun the memories.

But not today.

He saw the Fat Bob Harley in the fast lane, harassing a Prius to get out of her way. Sergei blew both their doors off, passing on the right. He eased off the throttle and let the new Queen catch up. Viola ducked her head down and passed him, glancing over her shoulder with a little smirk. Sergei had to look away. He liked human women. They were easy. They smelled nice and they didn’t expect anything long-term. Dragon Queens, on the other hand, ruled over men. And as pretty as Viola’s brown eyes were, he wasn’t going to be commanded ever again.

They rode side by side; sometimes he let her pull up ahead and take the lead, and he ogled her lush backside. Man, if they’d only met a few weeks ago, what fun they could have had. He bet she smelled like the wind and would taste like honey wine. He had a weakness for curvy blonds.

Sergei blinked.
Where the hell did that thought come from? Get your head in the game and stop thinking with your dick. There will be plenty of Vermont cuties waiting for you once you begin your exile.

A few hours later, they pulled into a gas station to rest.

“You seem tired,” he said as they filled up. He batted her credit card away. “I have an expense account.”

“Does that include dinner?” she asked, stretching.

He tried not to stare at the sweet band of flesh showing as her sweater pulled up. “It includes anything I want. You hungry?”

“For anything except lamb,” Viola smiled at him and he grunted. “Although it’s got to be way past midnight.”

Sergei nodded. “We did the right thing, leaving when we did. It didn’t give the press a chance to regroup. Plus, any studs in the area will be two hours south of us.”

“I don’t know if I can drive all night.” She rubbed her temples and stifled a yawn.

“I know a steak house we can stop at. It’s not the Ritz Carlton, but it’s got huge portions. We’ll get a couple of pots of coffee and load up on grub.”

“I’m in,” Viola said. She sighed. “I’m still feeling like I’m trapped in the Twilight Zone.”

“That was an ugly scene with your mother.” Sergei had been chased out of his village by pitchfork-bearing peasants a few hundred years ago. So he felt for Viola. Her mother used words as weapons, though, and those wounds didn’t heal easily.

“I call that a regular Tuesday night.”

“Why were you living with her?” He’d rather hitchhike to some place warm and live on the beach.

“Trying to build up my credit report and my savings.”

“So some jackass rooked you out of your 401K?” Sergei’s vision tinged red.

Viola replaced the gas cap and nodded at the Harley. “His was blue.”

“Why did you buy him a bike?”

“I was buying myself a dream. My husband had left me for a nurse—after I supported him through med school.”

“Another prick.”

“After the last bill was paid, he wished me a nice life. No hard feelings. He wanted to have fun after working all those hours. Take advantage of the good life. He was a good deal older than me, but I wasn’t expecting he’d hit his midlife crisis at thirty.” Viola shrugged, a glum look passing over her tired features.

“I hope your lawyer hog-tied him and is going to garnish his wages.” Sergei knew a few lawyers that would have scented blood in the water and ripped her ex apart like the sharks they were.

Viola shook her head. “Nope. I even gave him the house.”

“For fuck’s sake, why?” Sergei had to lower his voice when a family in a minivan goggled at him like he was the devil incarnate.

He was surprised to see her expression had brightened. “I hated that house. I wasn’t allowed to have a room for my workshop.”

“You don’t seem the tool type.”

“Not that kind of workshop. I had a small business designing knitting patterns and selling crafts before I married Mark. But we needed something to survive on while he got his diplomas. So I found a steady job. We decided that after he established his practice, I could quit work and go back to creating all day long. I should have realized that was never the long-term plan when the basement became a man cave and my spinning wheel didn’t fit.”

“Well, now you can fly over his house and take a dump on his lawn.”

Viola laughed, which surprised a smile out of him. He could get used to that sound. Against his better judgment, he was enchanted by her dimples. He wondered if she would moan if he kissed her. Taking a step forward, he realized she wasn’t even on the same page. Her eyes were far away and sad.

“Tempting.” She sighed. “But I’d rather pretend he doesn’t exist. Let’s go to dinner. I’m starving.”

It was another half hour on the road before he led her to the all-night diner that featured steaks the size of platters. It looked like every other roadside diner he’d ever been in. They slid into a booth that had seen better days. Colored, frayed duct tape covered the rips in the seat. The Formica table had initials carved into it. Viola stared out the bullet-proof glass window and yawned so widely, he heard her jaw crack. He was wondering how she managed to keep the bike upright. She looked like the walking dead.

His phone buzzed as they were flipping through the menu.

“Yeah?” Sergei said, motioning the waitress to pour them some coffee.

“Where are you guys?” It was Reed.

“We stopped for dinner.” He drank the cup down in one swallow and snagged the waitress for a refill before she left the table.

“Don’t tell me where. We’re on an unsecured cell phone.” Reed’s tinny voice still had a weight of arrogance that put Sergei’s back up.

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Are you sure you weren’t followed?”

“Yep,” Sergei said. “Why?”

“Because Carolyn got ambushed by the Cult of Humanity.”

Sergei snarled a curse that had Viola staring at him wide eyed. “Is she all right?” he asked.

“Yes. Luckily, I was flying in the clouds above the car at the time. I lifted it up with her in it and flew off.”

“What did those dickheads do?”

“They shot at me, but they weren’t expecting a dragon in full battle mode. Little weasels were hoping for a panicked Queen.”

“Well, we’ve been clear so far.”

“Keep off the roads until morning. I’m afraid they’re going to double back and catch you.”

“There’s no way they can pick us out of a crowd.”

“Some genius ran all the plates in the Talon Industries parking lot and your bike lit up as belonging to a dragon. The press will be looking for it. It’s not exactly discreet.”

“If I wanted discreet, I would have bought a cruiser.” Viola’s bike was a cruiser.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

He returned the favor and shocked her into a blush. Sergei stopped listening to Reed as he droned on about statistics and probabilities. Viola was combing her fingers to fluff up her helmet head. Her hair, a darker shade of blonde, fell down to her shoulders in soft waves.

She crinkled up her brow as she frowned at a few split ends. Sergei was mesmerized by her cute nose and full lips that were twisted into a small pout. Her V-neck sweater was stretched tight over a generous rack, and he was distracted by the deep cleavage.

Shifting in the booth because his jeans went tight, Sergei rubbed the back of his neck and tried to remember she was a Queen.

He breathed in her scent, hoping it would make his body react like he’d plunged into a cold shower. But instead of the rancid perfume he recalled from Cassandra, Viola was scented like a wood stove and autumn leaves. For a moment, he pictured the two of them curled up in front of the fire in his cabin in Vermont. Her hair would be splayed across the bearskin rug and she’d be gazing up at him with those wide, brown eyes. He’d lose himself in her lush curves and bury his face between her juicy—

“Are you still there? Did the connection drop?”

Sergei blew out an exasperated breath. “No, I’m here. The connection is a little sketchy. Repeat what you said.” He took a large swallow of black coffee, letting the heat burn down his throat.

“I said, I still think it would be best if you two ditch those bikes and take to the air.”

“She can’t fly,” Sergei bit out.

There was a pause on the line. “Damn,” Reed said softly. “You’re going to have to show her how.”

“I’m not a good teacher. I don’t have any patience.”

“No kidding,” Viola said in a sotto voice.

He flipped her off.

“Well, the only other alternative is to pick her up and carry her.”

Revulsion shook the last of the horny thoughts out of his mind. “Never,” he growled.

“Well, she can’t ride on your back. She’ll slide off.”

“I need my arms free to fight.”

“It’s your choice. I can send some troops out to you now, but I think it will cause a media ruckus that we don’t want.”

“No,” Sergei said. “Let’s keep this as low-key as possible. We’ll be at the safe house in another four hours if we drive through the night. We’re stopping for a meal right now.”

“I don’t think I have another four hours in me,” Viola said.

“Have her ride on the back of your bike,” Reed suggested.

“No.” No Queen was going to wrap her arms around him. He knew that didn’t make any sense when less than five minutes ago he was fantasizing about making love to her on the floor of his cabin. But that was different. She was on the bottom. He was in control. On the back of his bike, she could cause them to crash or she could attack him.

He scratched the stubble on his chin and willed the paranoia back. Her scent calmed him, reminded him of the out-of-doors instead of being locked up or trapped. He couldn’t be in the same hotel room with her, not closed up overnight. With his nerves the way they were, it could go either way with him either banging her or stinging her to death. And with the Cult of Humanity clowns wandering around, he didn’t dare leave her unguarded.

“You can do it,” Sergei told her. “You have to try.”

Viola sighed. “Okay, I’ll try.”

He felt like a heel.