The Queen's Flight (Emerging Queens) (9 page)

“But in the meantime?” Viola thought he was taking this too lightly. She couldn’t imagine being one of the lost Queens. It was scary enough when she exploded into being at work and Smythe trapped her. If the good guys hadn’t ridden to the rescue, she’d still be there.

Niall frowned. “They may suffer. But we need to protect the hundred we can identify first. It may seem ruthless to you, but it’s how we’ll proceed.”

“What do the humans think about the dragon invasion?” Viola thought there were going to be a lot more paranoid groups rising up if the dragons in the House and Senate couldn’t keep things at an even keel.

Niall raised his eyebrows. “What does that matter?”

Viola shot him a disgusted look. “It matters. Humans matter.”

“They’re overjoyed,” Sergei said.

“How do you know? Maybe they’re like my mother and want to exterminate us.”

“They can try,” he showed his teeth at her.

“You can’t solve every problem with your teeth and tail.”

“Yes, I can.” Sergei patted her head.

“Condescending jerk.” Viola said without heat and crossed her arms in front of her.

“Which is why it is terribly important that you don’t go anywhere alone,” Niall broke in.

“Wait. So what do I do in the meantime?” If Viola was going to have to make sure the studs didn’t kill each other, she’d go insane.

“Have your court teach you what is expected.”

Sergei stepped closer to her.

Niall went on. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to fly to.” His old doddering professor form shifted in an eye-dazzling burst of russet and gold scales. His body one moment human, the next full grown dragon, should have made her step back in fear.

He was the size of a city bus and already hovering in the air above them. Horns ringed around his neck and at the top of his head. With his tail pushing him upward, his wings expanded to block out the sun. It was easy to see why the early humans worshipped the dragons. He was breathtaking.

“Take care, my dear,” he said and then flew off into the clouds.

“I hope I can fly like that someday.”

“You will,” Sergei said. “Are you planning on taking a consort?”

Viola’s face heated up. “I’m not going to force anyone.”

“You wouldn’t have to.” He trailed his fingers down her arm.

Shivers ran down her spine. For a moment, nothing existed but the two of them. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears. He wet his lower lip with his tongue. Viola swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Sergei tracked the motion, leaning down as if in slow motion.

A dragon call from above snapped them out of the trance. Sergei winked and then went back to his sky maneuvers before she could gather up the courage to ask if that meant him, too.

Chapter Twelve

Viola was alone in the kitchen frowning at the heel of the sock she was knitting. She hated turning the heel. It was the hardest part. Casimiro came in. She couldn’t believe a rock star would want to hang out here with her when he could have women throwing their panties at him. But he’d been at the safe house when she arrived and seemed to spend all his time either rehearsing or watching her. Until Sergei scowled at him, and he’d return to singing.

Today, he was shirtless, wearing only white cotton pants that left nothing to the imagination. Standing in the doorway, he stretched and peered at her under his thick eyelashes.

“Would you like some coffee?” Viola asked and rose to get it.

“Sit,” he said, and sounded so scandalized she sank back down. “You mustn’t wait on others. You are a Queen. Your studs live to serve you.”

“I don’t want to be a pain in the ass. The coffee is already there.”

“Mark my words, start as you mean to go on.” Casimiro poured them both cups.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him she preferred tea. He sat close to her, moving his chair so he was facing her instead of the table. A hum in her ears distracted her as a red haze settled between them.

What was that?

Viola reached out a hand to touch the reddish mist, but it dissipated, leaving her hand half raised to his face. She snatched it back.

This is strange.

Electricity sparked between them and almost of its own violation, her head moved to gaze into his deep brown eyes. Viola counted her breaths as they stared at each other. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought something might be off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. When she tried to focus on it, it eluded her. Her attention clicked back on Casimiro like he was a magnet and she was a cheap necklace.

“My friend, Krissie, and I tried to get tickets to one of your shows, but it was sold out in minutes,” she blurted out, still feeling a little strange. Had he spiked her coffee?

“From now on, you’ll have backstage passes.”

“Wow.” She sat there, stunned by his offer. She should stop being so suspicious. That was a generous offer.

He is so handsome.

Viola blinked. Did she just say that aloud? He was, but he was also a little conceited.

“Would it please you to hear me sing?” His voice was a seductive purr, and she leaned forward as if on the end of a fishing wire. Casimiro was reeling her in. Viola put her hands on the table to stop herself. Frowning, she wondered what was going on.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

Viola nodded, her head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. The blue of the sky outside caught her attention and she stared out the window, comforted by the color. The haze faded a bit. “I like your song ‘Find Me’ from your live album.”

Casimiro huffed a self-conscious laugh. “Thanks. I was thinking of something more romantic. How about, ‘I want to make love to you all day long?’”

Her head turned as if not under her own volition. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one,” Viola fiddled with her coffee cup. She felt like she was underwater, with a red ocean swirling over her.

“That’s a shame,” he said and leaned in to nuzzle her ear.

“Oh boy,” she said, shifting away. It was creepy and alluring at the same time. She wiped her sweaty palm down her leg. “Casimiro, I have a hard time thinking when you’re this close.” She gripped her cup and stared down into it, hoping it would come up with a solution like it was a magic eight ball.
My Sources Say: You’re Screwed.

“Thinking is overrated.” Casimiro twirled a strand of her hair in his fingers, gently tugging it so she turned to face him.

Sergei banged into the kitchen. Viola barely stopped coffee from sloshing over her knitting.

“You’re pathetic,” Sergei snorted, but he was glaring over her head.

“Now, wait a minute,” Viola protested. “He’s
the
Casimiro. I have all his albums and he’s half naked. Cut me some slack here.”

“Not you. You’re not using dragon magic to seduce him.” Sergei moved between then, shoving Casimiro’s chair back a few inches.

“He’s using magic on me?” Viola put her hand on her forehead. That’s why she felt all oogly. She kicked out at Casimiro, who was quick enough to avoid the blow.

Sergei growled. “And not being very subtle about it. I felt the pull of the weave from the sky. What’s the matter, canary? Afraid she won’t fall for your charms without it?”

“My magic is a part of me.” Casimiro leaned back and the hazy feel of desire faded.

“Fat chance that’s going to happen now. You jerk.” Viola wondered what would have happened if Sergei hadn’t shown up when he did. Part of her wanted to run into his arms and cover his face with grateful kisses. The other part of her that still had a shred of self-esteem inclined her head in what she hoped was a regal nod of acknowledgement. After all, she didn’t want to appear pathetic if Sergei was just doing his dragon duty.

“I’m her Protector. If she goes to you, she goes in with a clear head.” He lifted Casimiro up with one hand and pinned him against the wall.

Give him a good shake, Sergei. Especially if it causes those arm muscles to flex like that.
Focus, Viola. Focus.

“Wait?” Viola said, shaking her head to chase away the fuzzies. “Did you slip me the equivalent of a dragon roofie?”

“No, of course not.” He looked at Sergei. “Would you give us a few moments alone, please?” Casimiro asked, his legs dangling off the floor. But the asshole hadn’t lost his cool.

Sergei raised an eyebrow at her. “Should I go, my Queen?” Distrust showed in every line of his body.

“As long as you don’t go too far,” Viola said, moving her knitting to her lap. Might as well see what the jerkoff had to say for himself. She ran her fingers over the stitches instead of looking at either of the dragons. “And as long as he keeps the magic out of my head.”

“As you wish,” Casimiro said.

Sergei opened his hand and dropped Casimiro. While Casimiro was fluffing himself, Viola kept a close watch for Sergei, who went only as far as the living room.

“What the hell was that all about?” Viola asked.

“Niall wanted to me to help you with the dragon politics.” Casimiro said, smoothly. He tugged down on his shirt. “I thought it would be easier if we were naked in bed together.”

“Easier how?” Viola attempted not to screech at him. It was all she could do not to jam her knitting needle up his nose.

“I was going to show you how to change your body into something more appropriate for a dragon.”

Jeez, the more things changed the more they stayed the same
. Her lips pursed, Viola stared at her knitting. “I’m not sure what you mean.” She was proud her voice was even and calm.

Casimiro gave a shaky laugh. “I find you beautiful as you are. But the other Queens will not.”

“I’m not supposed to mate with them, too, am I?” Viola said through her teeth, making sure she’d give him cavities with her tone.

His eyes grew unfocused for a moment and he shifted in his seat. “What a compelling idea. But no. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how cruel women can be. You need to be able to meet them on a world stage and shine.”

“Why?” Viola asked. She fisted her knitting needle and tapped it on the table.

“So they do not treat you poorly.” He tried on a few smiles, but none of them melted the ice that was forming around her heart.

“And by getting naked with you and practicing magic, that’s going to help me be a stronger Queen?” She twirled the knitting needle like a ninja.

“I’m not handling this well.” Casimiro tracked the pointy stick.

She heard Sergei step back into the room, ghosting in like a wolf. He folded his arms over his chest and glared down at Casimiro. “What shit heel is trying to say is he wants you to change your human guise.”

“I don’t have a human guise,” Viola said, using her knitting needle to indicate her form. “This is me, dumbass.” She directed the last part to Casimiro.

“I think that’s what you
were
,” Casimiro said, running a fingertip up her arm. She jerked her arm away. “But you could be so much more. I’d leave your breasts the way they are. It would be a crime of nature to modify them. But you may want to reduce other areas.”

She slammed the knitting needle down on the table. “What gives you the right to dictate how my body looks?”

“I’m here to help, like Niall wanted.” Casimiro shot Sergei a panicked look.

“And you thought it was helpful to tell me to that I needed to be skinnier?”

“You’re fine the way you are,” Sergei said.

“Well, concentrate and picture the ideal you. Think the shape of a fine Spanish guitar.” He moved his hands in an hourglass shape.

She focused on the table because she couldn’t bear Casimiro’s gaze on her. Mentally, she flipped through pages of fashion magazines and visualized famous movie stars. She could have an athletic body like Serena Williams. But what if the studs thought that was too butch? She could have abs like Keira Knightly. But what if they thought that was too waif-like? Maybe she could Heidi Montag herself into the perfect woman.

But why?

When she was human, she would say it was to be healthy, but in reality it was because she wanted to be “normal” sized. And that was so far out of her spectrum right now it was ridiculous. She was a three-headed dragon. If it was to become more attractive to men, well that reasoning was out of the question now, too. There were at least a hundred studs for every Queen.

“Why?” she asked.

He spluttered. “To compete. No one will take you seriously if you appear human.”

He didn’t quite sneer the last word. But it was close enough.

Viola glanced at Sergei. Was that what he thought, too?

“Say the word,” Sergei answered, his face a blank slate. The utter calm chilled her.

“I’m going to my room,” Viola said and pushed away from the table. Her sock knitting fell to the ground.

She heard crashing noises before she slammed the bedroom door. Rage and humiliation tore through her as she took her pillow and screamed into it. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know she was too heavy for most men. And sure, she’d like to use her dragon magic and be instantly thin.

How many times had she wished she had a special pill that would make her immediately svelte and a perfect size six? But it still hurt to have Casimiro point it out. She was going through enough changes in her life now, couldn’t she at least see someone familiar when she looked into the mirror?

“Go away,” she said when someone knocked on the door.

“It’s me,” Sergei said.

“You’re not going to go away, are you?”

“No.”

“Then why did you bother to knock?” she asked grumpily and flopped on her back on the bed.

He let himself in, closing the door behind him. “Casimiro is too used to using his magic to seduce, he doesn’t know how to relate to a woman without it.”

“What were the smashing sounds?”

“I threw him out. Literally.” He tossed her sock knitting to her on the bed.

“My stitches,” she said and saved them before she lost any. “Is he coming back?” She arranged the knitting in her lap so it camouflaged any bulges.

“Do you want him to?” Sergei cocked his head.

“Hell no. If I wanted to listen to an asshole, I’d fart. But who’s going to teach me about court life, then?”

Sergei let out a long suffering sigh. “I will.”

“When was the last time you were in a court? You strike me as the lone wolf—er dragon.”

He stared up at the ceiling in deep thought, so Viola took a moment to ogle him. He still resembled a thuggish Mr. Clean, but there was a sensuality that coiled about him. Not wanting to get caught noticing how well he wore tight black leather, she focused on his face. When their eyes met, it felt like he was touching her physically.

“What do you look like without your dragon magic?” she asked. “Are you normal looking or still gorgeous?”

“You’ve seen it. A purple Wyvern with silver scars. I was hatched.”

“Why did you choose to look like Mr. Clean?” Viola stroked the top of her head.

“Haven’t you ever heard of Telly Savalas?” He manifested a lollipop in the corner of his mouth. “Who loves ya, baby?” he said in husky drawl that wasn’t his own.

Despite herself, Viola’s toes curled and her face felt flushed. “Is that an all-day sucker?”

“Sure it is. Come here and find out.” He grinned.

“Seriously, who are you trying to be?”

“Before your time,” he smiled. “How about Vin Diesel?”

“There we go.” Viola snapped her fingers. “You remind me of him in Riddick.”

“I’m glad I remind you of a stone-cold killer.” If his voice was any drier she’d need a humidifier.

“But in a sexy way,” she reassured him, giving him the thumbs up.

“Sure,” he said. “Like that makes sense.” He rolled his eyes, then looked her up and down. “You remind me of Jayne Mansfield.”

“Was she fat?” Viola gave him the squinty glare of doom.

“No, she had curves,” Sergei said. He made an hourglass with his hands.

Viola wasn’t sure how to take this side of Sergei. She’d gotten used to the surly, gruff side. Now that he was here of his own free will he’d lightened up a bit, at least when they were alone. The intimacy should have been making her run for the hills. He had a deadly temper, but she wasn’t afraid of him. He stood up to her mother. He told off her ex-boyfriend, and he’d almost put Casimiro through the wall for insulting her. She was charmed. She was also probably an idiot. Why did she always have to fall for the bad boy?

“Have you always looked like this?” Viola asked, attempting to see Casimiro’s side of things. Maybe the crooner wasn’t a douche. Maybe dragons changed their appearances like she changed her nail polish. Then she shook her head. Nope. Anyway you cut it, Casimiro was a jerk—a talented singer, but an asswipe off stage.

“I change my appearance every few decades,” Sergei said.

“How do you choose?” Viola wondered if there would ever be a time she would be bored with what the mirror showed her.