The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

Chapter Fourteen

The drive home was conducted in silence, except for a brief interchange that began with Baltic’s insistence that he would drive.

“I have done as you asked, and against my better judgment, allowed the wyverns to question me about my time in Europe when Fiat was slaying his sept. Now you will tell me about your agreement with Kostich,” he said as he narrowly missed plowing us into an elm tree that grew perilously close to the edge of the country lane upon which we were driving. He shot me an irritated look when I screamed, clutching the seat belt that crossed my chest, jabbing at the window with a frantic finger. Luckily, the ditch a bicyclist flung himself into (rather than be mowed down by Baltic) was filled with tall grass. “Mate, you will cease reacting as if I am not competent to drive this car.”

“Glory of god, Baltic! If you kill, maim, or otherwise injure anyone on the way home, I swear I’m never getting in a car with you again! Stop! It’s not our turn to go!”

Baltic ignored both the blast of a car’s horn and its occupant, who was making several rude gestures as he proceeded through an intersection toward the main highway that would take us home. “I am a wyvern. We do not take turns.”

“For the love of—ack! You almost hit that cow!”

“Cows should be in fields, not on roads,” Baltic said, glaring at the bovine in the rearview mirror.

I watched the cow in the side mirror, relieved to see it moving in a manner that indicated it was startled by its near-death experience but not hurt. “Agreed, but that doesn’t give you the right to almost run them down. Look, you scared the cow and now it’s bolted and knocked down that poor cyclist you flung into the ditch. We should stop and help him. He’s just lying stunned in the middle of the road. He could get run over.”

“You should stop trying to change the subject and tell me what Kostich wants you to do for him,” Baltic countered.

Pavel, sitting in the backseat, had turned around to watch the drama between the cow and the cyclist, but now turned back with raised eyebrows. One look at my face had him hunkering down with a book.

“Are you willing to discuss lifting the curse on the silver dragons?”

“No.”

“I can be just as stubborn as you,” I told him, crossing my arms and trying not to notice how close he came to sideswiping other cars as he merged onto the main road.

“I have had ample proof of that,” he muttered under his breath.

“I am sitting right next to you. I can hear everything you say.” I damned his stubbornness, and wondered how on earth I was going to convince him to lift the curse.

He switched to Zilant before falling silent. Although the rest of the trip was fraught with innumerable death-defying moments, we made it home in one piece.

“Mate, you will tell me now what it is you have undertaken for the archimage,” Baltic said, holding me back as Pavel headed for the house. “Is it to do with the light sword?”

“No.” I stopped trying to pry his fingers from my upper arm, admitting that he had done as I had asked and it was my turn to acquiesce. “He asked for my help with his granddaughter.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why would he seek your help for that?”

“Because she’s half dragon, and I was handy. She’s involved with some ouroboros dragons, and he wants her away from them. I promised to find out what’s going on and to aid her as best I can.”

“An ouroboros tribe?” His gaze turned contemplative. “Is that why you were asking about them? Which tribe?”

“I’m not absolutely certain, but I suspect they are the ones who imprisoned Kostya in his aerie.”

He shook his head; then, taking my hand in a gentler grasp, he escorted me toward the kitchen door. “Ouroboros dragons are dangerous. I do not want you becoming involved with them.”

“Dangerous how?”

“They have no respect for septs, or the weyr.”

“Neither do you,” I pointed out as we entered the kitchen to find Nico and Brom seated at the table, while Pavel was obviously about to prepare some paninis. “We’re technically ouroboros, too, so I doubt if we have much to fear from them.”

Before Baltic could answer, Thala burst into the room. “There you are! You are late! You said you would be here two hours ago!”

Baltic looked taken aback for about three seconds, before his expression darkened. “We were detained.”

She tossed an angry glance my way, then took his arm and tugged him toward the hall door. “No doubt it was intentional. Isn’t Kostich friends with the green mate?”

“Not according to Aisling.” I eyed the red peppers and turkey breast that Pavel was slicing.

Thala ignored my comment. “The green dragons summoned you while Kostich was moving my mother’s sword to safety.”

Baltic froze at her words. “He has moved the sword?”

“Yes.” Her lips compressed as she shot me an unreadable look before continuing. “I told you that we needed to do more than simply establish the level of security at Suffrage House. Your woman obviously spoke to the green mate, and she told Kostich of our plans to take the sword. He has moved it from the vault there and taken it to the sepulcher.”

“I would never betray Baltic in any way,” I said, slamming down a quarter wheel of Swiss cheese before marching over to Thala. “And if you ever again imply I would do so, you’re going to be one sorry necromancer.”

She straightened her shoulders and looked down her nose at me. “Do you threaten me again, human?”

“You bet your buttons I do,” I said, making a fist and gathering myself for a lunge.

“Ysolde, remember our son,” Baltic said, pulling me backward against his body. “You do not wish to fight in front of him, do you?”

His words acted like a bucket of cold water tossed on my head. I sent a reassuring smile to Brom, who sat watching with wide, delighted eyes. “No, of course not. But you know full well I didn’t betray you any more than Aisling did.”

“I care not what the green mate did, but I know that you would never do such a thing,” he agreed, patting me on the behind before releasing me and giving Thala a long look. “I have asked you to cease tormenting my mate. You will not make me repeat myself.”

Her eyes were hot with anger, but after a few moments during which I thought she might just challenge Baltic’s dominance, she dropped her gaze in a gesture of submission. “The fact remains that the sword has been moved to a safer location, and now it is beyond our reach.”

“Not beyond it. More difficult to obtain, perhaps, but not out of the question.”

“Where exactly is this—” My phone ringing had me pausing in the middle of the question. “Oh. I . . . uh . . . I have to take this call. It’s about that business we just discussed,” I added with meaning to Baltic, who simply shot me a warning look and allowed himself to be urged away by Thala.

“She and I are definitely going to have it out one of these days,” I said softly as I went out to the kitchen garden. “Hello?”

“Good afternoon. I am Maura Lo, and I’m told you wish to hire me for a summoning?”

“Hello, Maura. Yes, I do. I’d love to talk to you in person about what I’d like you to do for me—are you near London, by any chance?”

“Er . . . no.” Her voice had a kind of husky quality that reminded me of Lauren Bacall at her most seductive. “Actually, I’m in Estonia at the moment. Which is one of the reasons I was calling—I’m afraid my schedule is a bit hectic, so I won’t be able to undertake any new projects for a while.”

I just bet she was busy. Busy with things like orchestrating the theft of objects from the L’au-dela vaults and keeping dragons imprisoned in their own residences. “That will never do. I’m afraid my job is quite urgent.”

“I’d be happy to recommend another Summoner since you have such a great need—”

I interrupted her offer with ruthless disregard. “I was told that you are the only Summoner in Europe who is capable of bringing back the ghost of a dragon.”

“You want a dragon’s spirit summoned?” she asked cautiously. “Which dragon?”

“The former wyvern of the silver dragons, Constantine Norka.”

She sucked in her breath. “Why?”

I blinked at the tidy rows of fresh basil and mint that Pavel often teased me were cosseted. “I beg your pardon?”

“I asked why you want Constantine Norka’s spirit summoned?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that was none of her business, but I reminded myself that a little honey went a long way. “The First Dragon has charged me with a task that involves Constantine. I’ve decided the best way to accomplish that task is to speak with Constantine directly.”

Silence followed that statement. “I see. Well, I won’t deny that the challenge is an intriguing one, but I’m very sorry, Miss . . . er . . . I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name from the message left for me.”

“It’s Ysolde.”

The silence that met my ears was one filled with surprise. “Ysolde de Bouchier?”

“Yes.”

“Oh . . . I thought you were dead.”

“I was. Temporarily.”

“All right. Er . . . one moment, please.” A hushed conversation followed. Listening carefully, I thought I could detect two other voices, both male. Just what was she doing in Estonia?

“Ysolde? I’m sorry, but I’ve just consulted my schedule again, and I really won’t be able to take your job for at least three months.”

“Are you engaged in another summoning job?”

“No, but I am terribly busy with . . . er . . . a little side project.”

“I see.” I hadn’t anticipated that she’d turn me down flat. Now what? I glanced along the edge of the house, catching a quick glimpse of Baltic as he moved to his desk in the study, Thala right next to him, her hands gesturing wildly as she spoke. Take a leaf from Baltic’s book, I thought to myself with a little smile. I straightened my shoulders and adopted a cold, imperious tone. “That is not acceptable.”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“No.” I cut off her excuses with determination. “Your little side projects do not interest me, Maura Lo.”

I heard a small gasp as I invoked her full name, embellishing it with a little flash of arcane magic that must have been tangible even given the distance.

“I have hired you to do a job, and if you refuse to do it, you will leave me with no other alternative but to notify the Akashic League of your denial. I’m sure they will have a thing or two to say to a Summoner who refuses to honor her contract with them. I haven’t had many dealings with them, but I remember someone telling me that the Akashic League takes its contracts with members very seriously, and the penalty for breaching them is very inventive . . . and quite irreversible.”

“I . . . that’s . . . you . . .” Anger was evident in her voice, but she bit it back. “If you can hold for a minute, I’ll speak with my colleagues and see if we can’t work something out.”

“Of course,” I agreed, absently plucking a weed from the lemon balm and noting that the dill needed to be cut back. More murmuring was audible in the background, a full three minutes’ worth before Maura spoke to me. “Ysolde? I’m happy to say that my colleagues understand the importance of attending to League business over our own projects, so I will be available to summon the spirit of Constantine Norka for you after all. I will need a few particulars first, however. First and most important, where did Norka die?”

“You don’t know?” I asked, somewhat surprised, since she recognized his name . . . and mine.

“No. Should I?”

“I suppose not. I just assumed that all dragons knew where Constantine died.”

“Ah. I see someone told you about my father.” The faint thread of humor in her voice had more than a hint of irony to it. “I’m afraid that I don’t have much to do with the weyr.”

“Isn’t your father a red dragon?”

“He was, yes,” she said cautiously. “He was thrown out of the sept when he displeased the wyvern. That was before she killed him, naturally.”

“I’m sorry, I had no idea Chuan Ren would do that to her own people. Well, my memory is a bit faulty, but based on my discussions with the First Dragon, I believe Constantine died in Latvia. Outside of Riga, in fact.”

“Riga? Do you mean Dauva? Of course you do; what am I saying? You were Baltic’s mate, weren’t you?”

“I still am.”

The silence that met that statement was profound. “I see,” she said slowly. “I think the best thing is to meet you at Dauva. We can search for the spirit there. Would it be possible to meet you in . . .” The muffled voices indicated a short conversation. “How about we meet in two days in that little suburb of Riga. What’s the name . . . Ziema?”

“Ziema will be fine. I’ll let you know if I’m unable to make it.”

She murmured something polite, and gave me information about a hotel she said was on the fringe of the town, near the forest that had consumed Dauva’s crumbled remains.

I hung up a few minutes later, staring blindly at the herb section of the kitchen garden, not really seeing anything but my own murky suspicions.

“Is something wrong?”

I gave a mental shake and glanced at Pavel. “Sorry?”

“I asked if something was wrong. You have the oddest look on your face.”

“Ah.” I thought for a moment more, then asked him, “If you were the person who captured and imprisoned Kostya in his own house, why would you be interested in me?”

He didn’t even blink at the bizarre question. “The common link between the two of you is Baltic, so I assume that would be my focus.”

“Yes,” I said slowly, turning my gaze back to the herbs. “That’s what I thought, too.”

“Who is interested in you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“A half-dragon Summoner who may or may not be the leader of a notorious band of ouroboros dragons. I’m going to meet her in Riga in a couple of days. I don’t think I’ll tell Baltic, just in case.”

He pursed his lips. “In case he would refuse to let you go?”

“No.” I snapped the stalk of an amaryllis that grew in a pot next to the kitchen door, flinging away the leafy stem. “In case she tries to harm him.”

It wasn’t until the waxing moon was high in the night sky that Baltic finished his dealings with Thala. He found me standing in a small, seldom-used room, staring blankly at nothing.

“Did you have another vision?” He hesitated at the door before approaching me.

“No. Are you done with Thala?”

“I have been for the past hour. She went into town.”

I watched him walk toward me, his movements smooth and sinuous, like a big cat on the prowl. There was something about Baltic, a sense of coiled power on the verge of being released, that heightened the general feeling of danger surrounding him. It was simultaneously frightening and very erotic. “When I first saw you, I thought you were a warrior, not the mage my sister told me about. Then I found out you were a dragon.”

He stopped in front of me, not touching me, waiting for me to finish my thought.

“Of those three, I think the warrior is strongest in you.”

Eyes of midnight searched my face. “I am a dragon first and foremost, Ysolde. Dragons are warriors. We always have been. Nothing has changed.”

“No,” I agreed. “Nothing has changed. You might wear modern clothes, and drive a car, and use a laptop, but at heart, you’re still the same man you were five hundred years ago. You still make decisions for me. You still shut me out of certain aspects of your life. You’re still a warrior.”

“I protect you when necessary, yes. I cannot do otherwise, mate. I existed once without you, and I will not do so again. Were the events of the past to be repeated and Thala resurrected me again, I would not continue living. You are life to me, Ysolde. I will not live without you.”

I moved into his arms, kissing the pulse point in his neck. “You make it really hard to lambaste you for doing things you know I won’t like. I love you, too, you frustratingly wonderful man.”

“Dragon.”

“And while you may not have changed, I have. I understand that you need to protect Brom and me, and I’m grateful you do. But protecting doesn’t mean keeping me utterly in the dark. You can tell me about threats or things of importance like that. I really don’t like feeling as if I can’t be trusted with the truth.”

“There is nothing with which I don’t trust you.” His breath was hot on my neck and ear as he nibbled a spot that he knew turned me to mush in his arms.

“Did Thala know about Fiat’s threat to kill Brom and me?” I slid my hands under his shirt, stroking the muscles of his back, breathing in the scent of him. It was a heady experience, leaving me simmering with desire.

“Yes. Do you remember the time we were in Venice and you thought to hide behind a mask and test me?”

I stopped unbuckling his belt, prodding hard at the big black chunks of my memory. “No. A mask? Hmm.”

“It was during a festival. You pretended to be a woman of no morals who desired my body, and tried to test my fidelity to you.”

“Still not ringing any bells. Why don’t you do whatever you did to prompt a vision before, so I can relive it?”

He unzipped my jeans, sliding his hands over my hips as he pushed them down, tossing them onto a chair along with my underwear and sandals. “I would prefer not to.”

“Why not?” I shucked my shirt and bra at the same time I tackled his belt, suddenly frantic to get him out of his clothes so I could rub myself all over him.

“You did not believe me when I told you that I knew it was you from the moment you neared me.”

Buttons went flying as I yanked his shirt off while he was trying to take off his pants.

“Does that mean that you let me seduce you, then told me you knew it was me?” I moaned softly as I stroked the heavy muscles of his chest, waiting impatiently for him to get his shoes off. The second he stood up, I flung myself on him, biting his shoulder as I wiggled against him, relishing the sensation of hot, satiny flesh covering steely muscles.

“Yes. You could not wait for me to take you to our bed. You demanded that I make love to you on the balcony of the villa we’d taken.”

“Balcony, eh?” I stopped licking his neck long enough to look speculatively around the room.

“On a table.” His voice was rich with the promise of fulfilling the intention so obvious in his beautiful onyx eyes. “Like the one behind you.”

Cold wood met my behind as he picked me up and set me on the small writing desk, sweeping the accoutrements onto the floor as he took both my breasts in his hands.

“Oooh. New position. Kinky,” I said, squirming as he gently tormented my breasts. I dug my fingers into his hips, sliding them around to his behind as his mouth claimed mine, his fire sweeping through me.

“You particularly enjoyed it when I did this,” he said, dropping to his knees.

I swear my eyes rolled back in my head when he blew dragon fire along my thighs, following it with the even hotter sensation of his mouth as he kissed a serpentine path up toward the source of so much pleasure.

“I bet I did,” I said in between pants. His mouth closed on me, licking and gently biting, and doing wonderful little swirly things with his tongue that had me grasping the edges of the desk. “By the rood, Baltic, your tongue ought to be outlawed, doing things like that. Do that again! No, the other thing!”

He chuckled at my demand, his fingers curled up inside me as his tongue did a particularly effective dance against hidden parts of me, causing me to fall back on the desk, my muscles tightening painfully around him in a spasm of purest rapture. “You were always easy to please, mate. I am glad that has not changed about you.”

I lifted my head to glare at him. “You did that to me and didn’t tell me you knew it was me all along? No wonder I was pissed!”

He made a face. “It was three weeks before I convinced you that I knew it was you all along.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You don’t mean to say that I didn’t reciprocate?”

We both looked at his penis, clearly waiting for its turn.

“You did. But you were angry. I could tell.”

I allowed him to pull me into a sitting position. “Friends don’t let friends give angry oral sex, Baltic. If I made sure you were happy, I wasn’t angry.”

“You were.” Without any further ado, he wrapped my legs around his hips and slid into my body. “You used your teeth more than was seemly.”

I was in the middle of a groan of ecstasy when he spoke, making me hiccup in a few giggles, which in turn caused him to frown down at me as he stroked in and out with long, smooth moves.

“Honestly, Baltic, you’re the only man I know who can frown during sex. Kiss me—my mouth misses yours.”

He obliged, sharing his dragon fire with me, murmuring something in my ear about withholding it until I could access my own, but I was too busy being aroused all over again to pay much mind to his threat. The table protested his increased vigor with a rhythmic squeak that I prayed wasn’t audible outside the room. By the time I flexed my muscles around him, squeezing a nonstop stream of groans from his lips as his hips moved in a way that damn near brought me to tears, I was on the edge of another orgasm, just waiting for him to push me over.

The muffled sound of the front door, situated next to the small room, as it slammed shut had me grasping Baltic’s hips with desperation.

“She’s back,” I moaned, sucking hard on his tongue. “Hurry!”

“You must go first,” he panted, his mouth hot and sweet and endlessly fascinating.

“I had my turn. You go, and that’ll do it for me, too,” I said, my own breath ragged and irregular.

“You . . . first . . .”

I knew that Thala would see lights on and come to investigate, so I didn’t waste time arguing. I simply tightened every muscle I had around the hot invasion of his penis, gripping him with a fierceness that had his eyes opening wide for a moment before he roared his pleasure into my mouth. Like I predicted, that was all I needed, as well, as his last few convulsive thrusts sent me flying.

“Baltic, did you find someone to locate the sepulcher? If you cannot find someone with the appropriate tracking skills, we might think about hiring a blue dragon—” The door to the hallway opened, revealing Thala. Baltic spun around, screening me from sight, but I wasn’t any too happy about the fact that she was getting an eyeful. I snatched up my shirt from the floor, and still behind him, held it in front of his groin, all the while peering around his shoulder to send a potent glare at the intruder.

“I might have known you would be here,” she growled, seeing me. Her gaze went back to Baltic. “Did you at least accomplish what we discussed before your woman distracted you?”

“I grow weary of telling you to treat Ysolde with respect,” he replied, his arms crossed. “She is my mate. You will refer to her as such.”

“Did you?” she prompted, ignoring his demand.

His lips tightened, but after a moment he answered. “Not yet. I will locate one tomorrow.”

“We need someone at the sepulcher as soon as possible, not whenever you get around to it.” She took a deep breath. “You seem to be more concerned about your mate than you are my mother’s sword!”

“Ysolde is everything to me,” he said simply, which just made me melt all over his back. I licked his shoulder blade. “I will regain the sword, do not fear. But I will do it in a manner I choose. Kostich is more powerful than you credit him, and I will not risk Ysolde’s well-being to regain the sword.”

“He would not harm her,” Thala argued. “You said she was his apprentice.”

“Kostich has used her to obtain his ends before, and he may do so again,” he answered. “The sword is mine, but I will claim it in a way that will not allow him to threaten her. I will find a tracker in the morning to locate the sepulcher.”

“A tracker?” I asked, having managed to slip into my jeans and bra while he and Thala were arguing. I picked up his pants and moved in front of him, blocking Thala’s view. “You mean someone who’s good at finding hidden things?”

“Yes.” Baltic donned his pants, pausing when he saw the smile I just couldn’t contain. “Do you know of one?”

“Oh, yes.” My smile grew as I looked at Thala. I’d heard the tale of what happened the night May re-formed the dragon heart. “I know of one who is quite good. In fact, when I was staying with May and Gabriel, he’s the man I was going to hire to help me locate you.”

“I will contact him in the morning,” Baltic said, wrapping an arm around me. “We will go to bed now.”

Thala moved aside as we left the room, her expression too placid for my peace of mind. I couldn’t wait to tell Savian Bartholomew, official thief-taker for the L’au-dela and part-time rogue, that he would have the chance to work with the woman who had come very close to killing him.