Destiny Kills

Chapter Twelve

I don’t know how long I cried. I just couldn’t seem to get my act together, and much of that was guilt. It was ridiculous to feel that way, I knew, because the past couldn’t be changed no matter how much I might wish otherwise. I’d done what I’d done. I’d left knowing Dad was ill, that the diabetes was getting worse. But in the foolishness of youth, I hadn’t figured it would be so hard to free my mom. Hadn’t counted on getting caught myself. I’d been too confident in what I was and what I could do to worry about such things as capture by the very people who held my mother.

Through all the tears, Trae was there. Holding me when I needed to be held, making love to me when I needed the intimacy, leaving me alone when I wanted to be alone. He fed me and looked after me, and was patient with me when my grief ran into the need to rant and rage.

But I couldn’t stay in that pit of despair and guilt forever, especially not when I still had promises that needed to be kept. Besides, the more I delayed, the longer Trae was away from his sister.

It was well after midnight several days after the memorial service at the hospital when I turned in the warm circle of Trae’s arms and said, “We should leave here tomorrow.”

He touched my cheek, running his finger down the length of it until he reached my lips, then lightly began to trace them with a fingertip. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

I nodded and stretched out languorously, so that my body was pressed more fully against his. “It’s probably best to swim to Scotland. Or fly, in your case. I wouldn’t put it past them to have someone watching the airports.” Or be paying one of the customs officers to keep an eye out for them.

“I could acquire you a new passport, if that’s your worry.”

His touch moved down my neck and across my right shoulder. Desire trembled through me, but I held still. That feather-light caress felt too good to move on to more intimate pursuits just yet.

“In this day and age, with all the massive security checks they have at airports, faking it is not worth it.”

“Faking it never is in the long run.” Amusement played around his lush mouth as his fingers drifted toward my breasts.

I arched my back a little and pressed into his hand. “And do you often fake it?”

He cupped one breast and flicked his thumb over the erect nipple, sending little arrows of pleasure shooting across the rest of me. His blue eyes twinkled mischievously in the night. “Never when it’s important.”

“And this is important?” I said softly. Emphatically.

“The most important thing in my life,” he said. “And not only for this moment.”

Then he kissed me.

It was a kiss that was deep and long, a kiss that explored and aroused. A kiss that spoke of emotions that had been hinted at, and talked around, but never actually said. They were there nevertheless, thick and real.

“The trouble with a moment,” I said when I could, my voice more than a little breathless, “is that it does only last a moment.”

“I think I should be offended by that comment.” His voice was dry. “I’ll have you know, my stamina is legendary. I’ve been known to last for hours.”

“Then prove it.”

He chuckled softly. “A challenge you may yet regret, my girl.”

“Not when you’re still talking rather than doing.”

He grinned and sat up on the bed, shaking free of the sheets and blankets. Then he picked up my right foot and began massaging my toes with warm fingers.

Frustrated amusement rolled through me. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“Hush, and let the master work.”

I snorted. “You’re not my master.”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I’m the master of your seduction, and you will be putty in my hand by the time I’m finished. Now shut up and enjoy.”

I shut up as ordered and closed my eyes, enjoying the press of his fingers against my foot. Enjoying the warmth that flooded up my leg and across my torso. Enjoying the tingle of expectation as the minutes ticked by, and the desire—need—for him to move on grew.

Eventually, he did, paying similar attention to my calves, and then my thighs. I made a small sound of disappointment when he skipped the hot spot at the junction of my legs and moved up to my belly. He chuckled softly, but that disappointed sound moved into a sigh of contentment when he began to caress my breasts. But he moved on all too quickly, working his way up to my shoulders and down each arm, before finally—thankfully—he began his teasing, erotic journey back down my body to the one point he’d missed. Even before his fingers slid over my clit, I was shuddering with pleasure, but that softest of touches had me moaning. God, if he didn’t get on with it soon, I’d surely burst.

He kept up that teasing caress until I was squirming and pressing myself harder against his hand, wanting—needing—the orgasm that loomed so close. When he finally slipped two fingers inside me, I gasped and came undone, shuddering and groaning and thrusting into his touch.

When the shudders began to ease, he started again, this time with his tongue, savoring every glorious inch of me, until sweat sheened my body and every fiber vibrated with the need for release.

When his tongue slipped over my clitoris, I made a sound that was little more than a gargled half scream, and thrust up against him, so that his face was buried in the warm heat of me. And he licked and sucked and delved his tongue deep inside of me, until my body was afire and I was begging him to take me fully.

He finally relented and slid up my body, capturing my lips as he slid slowly, deeply inside. As my flesh enveloped him, a low groan of pleasure vibrated against the back of my throat. God, was there a greater sensation on this earth than the completeness of this one moment?

I began to move against him, but he held me still and continued to kiss me. Not urgently, not desperately, but slowly, passionately, like he had all the time in the world. I answered in kind, even though my body was trembling with the need for completion. I slid my hands up his back and around his neck. And I knew, in that moment, that we were one. Not just physically but spiritually, our souls entwined and eternally linked.

“Look at me,” he ordered softly.

I opened my eyes and gazed into his, and felt like I was falling into a bright ocean. Caught, once and for all—and forever.

He began to move then, slowly at first but gradually gaining in intensity, until he was thrusting deep and strong. And suddenly the control and the calm were gone, and our lovemaking became all passion and heat and intensity. All I could think about, all I wanted to think about, was this man and this moment. Pleasure spiraled so quickly my body was shaking with the force of it, and when my climax finally—gloriously—hit, the convulsions stole what little breath I had left and tore a strangled sound from my throat. He came a heartbeat later, his body slamming into mine, the force of it echoing through my being.

When I remembered how to breathe again, I took his face between my palms and kissed him long and slow. “That was amazing.”

He rolled to one side and gathered me in his arms. “I told you I was a master of the art.”

I snuggled closer to his warm, sweaty body and breathed a sigh of contentment. “Would that be the art of bullshit you’re talking about?”

He chuckled softly and gently tucked a sweaty strand of hair behind my ear. “That would be my other specialty.”

“No doubt about that,” I murmured, and drifted off to sleep.

When I woke the following morning, I was alone in the bed, but the smell of cinnamon toast and coffee filled the air, making my stomach rumble.

I shoved the blankets aside and got out of bed. The day beyond the windows was bright, filled with blue sky and few clouds. But the way the spruces swayed suggested the wind was pretty fierce. And if it was coming straight off the sea, I had no doubt it would also be icy.

I grabbed my old terry bathrobe from a wardrobe still filled with all my clothes and pulled it on, doing up the sash as I clattered barefoot down the stairs.

“That smells good,” I said, as I entered the kitchen.

He looked over his shoulder and gave me a warm smile. “I should hope so. I’ve been slaving away in the kitchen for hours.” I raised an eyebrow, and his smile became a grin. “Well, a good ten minutes, at least.”

I stood on tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. “Mmmm, you taste better than the food smells.”

“As much as it pains me to admit it, you need food more than you need more of me at the moment. Here.”

I grabbed the plate and began to munch. It was as delicious as it smelled.

“I exchanged some cash after I rang my mom,” he said, dropping some dishes in the sink and washing them. A house-trained man who also could cook—you had to love that, I thought with an inner grin. “So we’ll have some usable money when we get over there.”

“Unfortunately, I lost my credit cards when the scientists snatched me in Scotland,” I said, around a mouthful of toast. “But I found a new ATM card when I was going through some of the mail.”

Which the Doc had given me after the small memorial service, along with a small bag of Dad’s possessions. Tears touched my eyes again, and I blinked them away. He was gone, but at least he’d gone the way he’d wanted to go. I’d given him that, if nothing else.

“I think we need to hit them fast,” Trae said, “before they’ve got time to realize we’re even there.”

“I agree, but we can’t be too fast. That’s what got me caught the last time.” I finished the last of the toast, then gulped down the hot coffee. “I’ll go upstairs and have a shower.”

He nodded. “I checked the tides. We need to leave within the hour if you’re going to make it under the Lubec bridge in time.”

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

“Does a woman ever really mean that when she says it?” he asked, voice dry but a twinkle in his eyes as his gaze met mine.

“Time me,” I said, and raced up the stairs.

After the quickest shower in recorded history—for me, at least—I dried myself, then padded naked into my bedroom to raid my wardrobe, picking out a pair of jeans, an old Nirvana T-shirt, and a woolen sweater that would keep me warm even when it was wet. I dug an old pair of Nikes from the thick dust under my bed, then grabbed the waterproof food carryall my dad had made when I was a teenager who constantly needed to be fed and yet who was prone to wandering unheeding of time under the sea, and filled it with extra clothes and a coat. At least I’d have something dry to change into once I was in Scotland.

That done, I picked it up and clattered back down the stairs.

He glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes and forty-five seconds. You’re late.”

“So I’ll make it up to you later. There is, however, hot water left, so maybe you should be thanking me.”

“Maybe I should.” He put his coffee cup down on the bench, then walked across to give me a quick kiss. “Hmmm. Nice.”

“Shower,” I said, smiling as I stepped away from him. “Otherwise we’re never going to get out of here.”

“A bossy woman,” he muttered, the twinkle in his eyes belying the edge in his voice. “Just my luck.”

“Get,” I said, imperiously pointing toward the stairs.

He got. I poured myself a coffee, then turned off the machine and leaned back on the bench, sipping the hot, sweet liquid and listening to the shower, imagining all that water running over lean, hard, golden flesh.

He rattled down the stairs ten minutes later, as sexy as all get-out in jeans and one of my dad’s old black sweaters. My body began to ache at the mere sight of him, but now was not the time. We had people to rescue, and they’d all spent too much time locked in hell already.

“Got everything you need?” he asked, switching the kitchen light off then grabbing the car keys from the counter.

I nodded and rinsed out the rest of the coffee under the tap, then followed him out the back door. The wind whipped around me as I stepped onto the porch, flinging my still-damp hair in every direction. I shivered and locked the door, then shoved the key in my pocket. No need to put it in the plant anymore. There was no one else left who needed it—not unless I rescued my mother.

“What happened to those men who were waiting for us?” I asked, a slight catch in my voice that could have been caused by either fear of what I still had to do or the cold itself. Maybe even a bit of both.

He strode ahead of me, already in the trees, and for a moment, I didn’t think he’d heard me. Then he flung over his shoulder, “I flew them off the property. Dumped them and a few supplies in some secluded forest in Canada and took their cell phones. It’ll take them days to get anywhere without phones.”

And by the time they did get somewhere, we’d be long gone.

I followed Trae through the trees and down to the beach. The wind in the open was even colder, filled with the scent of the sea, a scent that called me on.

I gripped my bag tightly, and stopped beside Trae. “Talk to you in Scotland,” he said, and dropped a kiss on my cheek.

“You’d better have a coffee ready,” I said, “because I’m going to be fucking freezing by the time I get to those shores.”

He laughed, and flung an arm around my shoulders, hugging me briefly but fiercely. “There’s better ways than coffee to warm you up,” he said, giving me another swift kiss, then letting me go.

I walked down to the water. The sea greeted me with its usual enthusiasm, and a smile touched my lips. I dove into the water and kept under the waves, swimming far out. When I finally surfaced, Trae had already gone.

The journey to Scotland was a long and, in many ways, a lonely one. Trae occasionally swooped above me, his gold and silver form bright against the blue of the skies, but mostly I was alone, deep under the water, with only the occasional pod of dolphins to keep me company.

I didn’t stop, though tiredness was a weight that made my body ache. Stopping gave me time to think about Mom and the kids and what they might have gone through while I was away, and those were thoughts I just couldn’t handle right now.

I made my way around the Hebrides and Orkney Islands and finally swam down through the North Sea to the Moray Firth near Inverness. Night had leeched the warmth from the sky by the time I got near the River Ness, and the lights of the city washed brightness across the river. I swam upstream for as long as I could, then, when the water would no longer cover or hide my dragon form, shifted shape and swam toward the shore.

To say I was dripping wet and freezing cold by the time I climbed up the grassy bank would have been the understatement of the year. I splashed out of the water and looked around, wondering where the hell Trae was. I hadn’t seen him for at least six hours, and given how densely packed with humanity this area was, he wouldn’t have been able to land anywhere near.

I just about had a heart attack when a voice behind me said, in a thick Scottish brogue, “Jesus, girl, are you all right?”

Totally glad I’d decided to keep my clothes on rather than swim naked, I turned around and gave the stout, gray-haired man standing in front of me a wan smile. “Yeah. I fell into the water while trying to retrieve my cell phone.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to be doing at this hour of the evening.”

I crossed my arms and shivered. “Stupid, more likely.”

“Aye. Are you staying nearby, lass? Can I drive you anywhere?”

“I’m not staying far away, and I’ll be fine walking. But thanks for the offer.”

He nodded, then shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his big old coat and continued on his way. I thought about pulling out my own coat, but given my sodden state, that would be pointless. It’d be wet in no time and I’d end up just as cold. I resolutely turned and splashed my way up the pavement, following the river and that tiny spark inside that said the home of my ancestors was close. A spark that drew me on, even though exhaustion and cold were trembling through my limbs.

About five minutes later a car rolled to a stop beside me and the passenger window slid down. “Need a lift, gorgeous?”

“Only if you have coffee.”

“I can do better than that,” he said, eyes gleaming with amusement. “I can take you where it’s warm and feed you.”

“I’m yours,” I said, and jumped into the back of the car.

Trae laughed. “Too right, woman.”

I leaned over the seat and gave him a warm, lingering kiss that did a whole lot to chase the chill from my body.

“Nice to see you again,” I murmured, when I could.

“She says through chattering teeth. Even your damned lips are freezing cold. I think you’d better get changed. Blue doesn’t suit your human form.”

I laughed and dropped back onto the seat. I undid the carryall and dragged out some dry clothes, then somewhat awkwardly stripped off the sodden stuff and wriggled into the dry stuff, all the while aware of Trae’s heated gaze watching me, and feeling warmer because of it. I wrung out my hair as much as I could, finger-combed it into some semblance of order, then clambered into the front of the car.

“I believe you promised food.”

“I believe I did.” He started the car, turned the heater to full blast, then drove on.

It was late evening, so the streets weren’t packed with people, but they were around. Their laughter and music rode the air. He eventually pulled into a parking space outside an old, weatherworn inn. Despite its run-down appearance, inside it looked warm and it was packed with people—more locals than tourists, if the thick brogue filling the air was anything to go by.

We got out and went inside, Trae guiding me with one hand at my back. We found a table near the huge old fireplace, and for several minutes I did nothing more than stand in front of it and melt the ice from my bones.

A few hours, a few ales, and a good meal later, I was feeling decidedly better and sat back with a sigh.

“Feel human again?” Trae asked, a smile teasing his lips.

“As human as I could ever feel.” I drained the last of the ale from my glass, then said, “I guess we’d better move. We need to find somewhere to stay up near the loch, and it’s getting rather late.”

“I’ve already booked us a cabin near Strone Point, which didn’t look that far down from Drumnadrochit’s main center. The owners advertised the cottage as overlooking Urquhart Bay and the loch, so I thought that would be handy.”

“It will be.” Because it would also overlook the sharp hills of my mom’s lands, and the house the scientists were using as their base. I needed to watch that house for a while. Needed to get a feel for their rhythms and movements. I had no idea how we were going to get in, let alone rescue my mother and the kids, but one thing was certain. It could not be rushed.

Still, Mom would feel me near. Would know I’d come back to rescue her, as I’d promised.

“I told the proprietor we’d be arriving a little late.” He glanced at his watch. “She’s going to meet us there with the keys in about half an hour.”

“Should be plenty of time.” I somewhat reluctantly pushed to my feet. Trae held out his hand, and I wrapped my fingers through his, letting him lead me through the crowd.

Once back in the car, I stared out the side window, watching the bright lights of Inverness fade into hills and darkness. Trae turned on the radio, and the gentle melodies that filled the car were restful rather than intrusive. After days of swimming, it was tempting to let my eyes close and drift off to sleep, but that was pretty pointless given that Strone was only fifteen miles away.

Twenty minutes later, the headlights were sweeping across a little white cottage, highlighting the stone-work and the pretty little window boxes. Its curtains were drawn and there were no lights on inside.

“She’s obviously not here yet,” Trae said, stopping the car and turning off the lights.

“No,” I agreed, and climbed out of the car. The wind stirred around me, tugging at my hair and chilling my face. I breathed deep, letting its crispness fill my lungs.

This might not be the place of my heart, but it was the land of my ancestors. Standing here in the night and the cold, feeling the grass and the soil under the worn heels of my Nikes, hearing the lap of wind-stirred water against unseen shores, sent a huge wave of rightness and belonging through me.

I might not have been raised here, but sea dragons had used this area as a refuge long before humans had come to claim the lands for their own. We were a part of the very foundation of this place, and it a part of us. And no matter how much I loved my home in West Lubec, there was no escaping the power of this place.

No escaping the simple joy of merely standing here.

Lights swept across the night, twin points of brightness that pinned me where I stood. Trae climbed out of the car and walked around to stand beside me, wrapping one arm across my shoulders and pulling me close to him. The warmth of his body battered away the chill of the night.

I raised a hand to protect my eyes from the lights, and watched the car approach. It pulled to a halt a few yards from where I stood, and an older-looking lady climbed out.

“Oh dear, you’d be Trae and Des Jones, then?” she said, looking us up and down. “I wasn’t expecting a couple.”

Trae had obviously given her a false surname, meaning he was a whole lot smarter than I’d been when I’d first come here. “Is that a problem, Mrs. Molloy?”

“Oh, no. It’s just that I’ve given you the bigger cottage, the one with several bedrooms. It’s a bit more expensive, though.”

Trae gave her a smile that brought heat to her cheeks, and said, “That’ll actually work out well, because we’ve some friends who were thinking of coming over from England to join us.”

“Ah, good then. And it’s nice and quiet out in these parts. Except when the trucks go past on the A82.”She fetched a silver key from her pocket and bustled toward the door. “You two here for a bit of monster-spotting, then?”

“Not really,” Trae answered, his glance at me full of amusement. “But we’re told we can’t tour Scotland without at least having a look at Nessie’s loch.”

“Well, there haven’t been many sightings of her since those damn scientists moved in up there.” She waved a straightened finger toward the hills of my mother’s lands.

I raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Scientists?”

“They’ve been here for years. Don’t know why—they debunk the monster myth every chance they get.” She sniffed and pushed open the door. “Hasn’t harmed tourism, but I’ll be glad when they leave, all the same.”

My heart just about stopped. “They’re leaving?”

“That’s the talk. Certainly they’ve been a bit more frantic in their activity of late.”

“But why would they be leaving?”

“Maybe they’re finally believing their own words.” She swept on the lights and shrugged. “Most researchers give up after a while. The loch holds her secrets well, and even the most well-financed venture must run out of cash.”

I hesitated, then asked, “So they’ve had no sight of the monster?”

She looked at me. “Oh, that’s one for conjecture.”

“So despite what they’re saying, you think they have?”

“I think they’ve found something, lass. Whether it’s the monster or not is anyone’s guess.”

I smiled. “You don’t believe in her?”

“Oh, I do. But I believe she’s far too clever to be caught by the likes of them. After all, she’s lived in these parts for centuries. She’d have to be a canny one.”

Canny didn’t take into account modern equipment or hunting methods. And it certainly didn’t take into account being betrayed by some greedier members of the dragon community.

Even so, perhaps my mother, like the locals, had been too complacent, too confident the loch would hold her secrets against all comers.

But then, that affliction had also been my downfall. I’d been so damn confident in my skills that I’d waltzed straight into their trap. Well, not again. Not without some planning beforehand, anyway.

But the five hundred-foot range of the tracker in my tooth would make planning my assault a whole lot tougher. The minute I entered that place, they could find me. If they suspected I was there, that was.

The question, of course, was whether they actually had the receivers here, or whether they were all in America with those who were still trying to capture me. I had to hope they were, but I couldn’t actually bank on it. They knew I wanted my mother out of there, after all.

I ducked in front of Trae and stepped into the cottage. The front room was small, but homely, and filled with flowers whose sweet scent warmed the slightly stale air.

“Haven’t had time to give it a good airing, but open a window or two, and it should be right.” She walked across the room. “There’s three bedrooms along the hall through here, the bathroom to my right, and there’s a small kitchen diner to your left.”

“It’s lovely,” I said.

She beamed. “Will you be needing breakfast?”

I hesitated, and glanced at Trae. “Would you prefer breakfast early or late?”

I put a slight emphasis on “late,” and he raised his eyebrows, amusement bright in his eyes. “Late would be better. I’d prefer to sleep in after the flight over we had.”

“Late, then. About ninish?”

She nodded, and Trae gave her the cash for the cottage. She bustled back out the door, a woman who was all energy and good cheer.

“Now what?” he said, once she’d left.

“Now I need to go talk to the loch.”

“Just let me bring in the bags.”

While he did so, I opened a few windows, allowing the cold night breeze to meander in and freshen up the place, and lit the fire with the kindling and logs provided. Then I kicked off my shoes, picked up the keys, and chucked them toward Trae as he came out of the bedroom.

“Barefoot?” he said, as he caught sight of my feet. “I hope that’s not a requirement around these parts, because I’m just not built for it.”

I grinned and tucked my arm under his. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm.”

He snorted softly. “You can hardly keep yourself warm at night. I mean, look at your toes. They’re blue.”

“But it’s a very fetching shade of blue.”

He laughed and dropped a quick kiss on my lips. “Come on, let’s get down to the water so we can get back up here to the warmth.”

We headed out, picking our way across the grass and then highway, before walking down the slope to the dark shores of the loch. To our right, the stony remains of Urquhart Castle were silhouetted against the moon-washed water and the hills beyond, and only the occasional twinkle of a house light, or the bright beam of headlights sweeping past on the A82 shattered the illusion of being alone in the wilderness.

I stopped when the water began to lap at my toes and his boots, but the touch of it filled me with a delicious sense of power and welcome. It was almost as if the loch had long mourned the loss of her dragons. Part of me ached to dive in, to swim deep and enjoy the murky depths, surrounding myself in the sense of strength, power, and history that the loch represented to my family. But given that the scientists might have sensors located along the loch, if not in it, that just wasn’t wise. I’d have to wait a while yet before I could enjoy such freedom.

“That’s my mom’s land over there,” I said, pointing left, across the bay to the sharp, tree-covered hill that had been the ancestral lands of my family right down through the generations. Few lights shone through the thickness of the trees, certainly none coming from the old, stony building that was neither house nor castle, but somewhere in between. But even a heavily fortified building that had withstood time and weather hadn’t been able to withstand the invasion by the scientists.

He frowned. “There’s not much evidence to be seen that there’s a whole underground scientific study going on over there.”

“That’s why he’s been able to get away with it for so many years.”

He scanned the tree line for a moment, then said, “So there really is another castle over there?”

“Well, it’s not what you’d call a traditional castle—there’s no massive towers and stuff.” Although it did have turrets. “It’s more like a great big fortified house. Dad used to draw me pictures of it.”

I couldn’t actually remember a whole lot about the place. What I knew about the history behind it was thanks to the pictures and the stories he’d told me. He’d loved the old house, and had for years studied the ancient texts that were hopefully still locked securely within the secret vaults. He probably knew more about all the different generations of sea dragons who had lived and died within its walls than my mother did. Thanks to him, I knew my past, even if I had no real acquaintance with this land.

“Meaning it’s a protected building?”

“Yeah.”

“Then the scientists shouldn’t have been able to do much alteration without someone knowing about it.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t bother to apply for permits.” There’d been basements there already, of course, but they’d added to them. Added the pools and the cells that had become our home within home for far too long.

My gaze ran across the hill again. “It is odd that we can’t see any lights. The last time I was here, the outside walls were lit all night.”

Hell, they turned off the lights in our cells for a bare six hours, and only then because they’d finally realized Egan wouldn’t come near me unless it was dark.

“Does the no-lights factor mean they have already left?”

“God, I hope not.” But my heart began to race at the thought. It would have been ironic indeed to have come all this way for naught. Ironic, cruel, and yet somewhat fitting, given the way my life had been turning out of late.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the sick fear that was churning my stomach and not entirely succeeding.

“I could do a flyover and check,” Trae suggested.

I was shaking my head before he’d finished. “Too risky. Besides, there’s a better way.”

I let go of his arm and stepped a little deeper into the water. The waves tugged against my legs, as if urging me to go deeper still. I smiled and squatted, slipping one hand into the water and caressing it with my fingers.

Ripples of power ran away from my touch, a steady vibration of energy only one other would notice or feel.

If she was close to a source of loch water, that was, and wasn’t out of her mind with the drugs.

And she should be near water. The scientists had learned very early the importance of water to us sea dragons. While they’d originally used tap water in our ponds, they’d quickly discovered that if they wanted happy sea dragons, then they’d at least better use the loch water.

I continued caressing the water, and the power grew, until the night seemed filled with a sense of raw expectancy.

And then something stirred across the far side of the loch. An energy that was almost lethargic, and yet whose very presence made the dark water shiver in anticipation.

Mom, responding to my call.

What, she said, her mind speech slurred, but nevertheless strong and filled with so much anger, the fuck are you doing here?