Hidden Dragons (38 page)

Since the leader was coming out to meet her, Cass stopped and waited for him.

“I am Dubh,” he said. “Head of the Dragon Guild.”

He most assuredly wasn’t “Dubh.” Cass didn’t know the symbolism of all fae names, but
Dubh
only meant black-haired.

“I am Cass,” she returned, inclining her head as stingily as he had. “Keeper of the Sevryn clutch.”

Scarlet contributed to the girl power anthem with a short caw. Dubh unbent enough to smile paternally down at her. Cass didn’t appreciate the implied ownership in the look.

“Before you put your foot in it,” she said, deciding a dose of her gran’s plain speaking was in order. “If you’ve come to take these dragons back to Faerie, you’ll find that plan is a non-starter.”

She’d hit the nail on the head. She saw that from the startled flicker that crossed the faerie’s face.

“We’re the Dragon Guild,” he said.

“And I’m a free citizen of Resurrection.” She laid her hand on Scarlet’s warm scaly skull. “As are my brood. The mayor himself put them on the city’s rolls.”

At the time, she’d assumed this was a ceremonial honor—something the Guild didn’t need to know.

Dubh blinked his calico eyes. “The brood will be safer in Faerie, under our protection.”

Cass allowed herself to snort. “Hardly. Queen Joscela wasn’t born to a keeper line, but she expected to imprint these dragons. I can only infer she infiltrated your guild—whether through torture or trickery—and stole your secrets. And then there’s Ceallach’s sword. How did that fall into his hands? I’d say your ‘protection’ hasn’t been stellar.”

“Are you certain you’d have done better?”

His tone was glacial, his body stiff with injured arrogance. Fearing she’d gone too far, Cass moderated her tone.

“Look around you,” she said. “Most of these folks would lay down their lives for the brood. They protect everyone they care about—and perfect strangers too. They don’t need magical swords or kings or a guild to drive them to it. Their hearts guide them, and their sense of justice. The Pocket has become much more than a fae creation. It belongs to its people. The Sevryn clutch is going to grow up here. They’re lucky this is their home.”

“But—” The Guild leader’s jaw worked briefly. “You can’t raise dragons on top of a department store!”

“We can for now,” she said. “When they grow too big, we’ll move them to the Maycee farm.”

“Do you even know what you’re doing? The challenges you’ll need to overcome? Dragons are more complicated than house cats!”

His calico eyes were practically shooting flames. Cass was happy she had a response ready.

“We’ve been working with a local foundation, the Society for the Protection of Rare Creatures. I hear they have a board position open. I’m sure they’d be honored if one of your members volunteered to fill it.”

Dubh shut his mouth on whatever curse he was tempted to let out. Since it might have been a literal curse, Cass was grateful for his restraint. The Guild leader glanced down at Scarlet, who was looking up at him. Cass had to fight a sudden surge of humor. Scarlet’s ruby red wings were slightly lifted, her head tilted fetchingly. The little minx was doing the dragon version of lash batting. The strategy must have worked. The Guild leader’s stiff face softened.

“They do look healthy,” he conceded grudgingly. “And they’re certainly socialized.”

Scarlet butted his hand and creeled softly.

“Fine,” he said, succumbing to her invitation to pet her head. “The Guild accepts your offer, but we’ll want two board seats instead of one.”

Cass refrained from pointing out that without her dragons, the Guild wouldn’t have much relevance.

“I expect they’ll make room for you,” she said.

Sensing some irony, Dubh lifted his multi-colored eyes to hers. His gaze shifted toward her father and back again. “You certainly are Roald’s daughter. He was stubborn at your age too.”

Amusement tugged her lips. “I don’t believe he’s outgrown it.”

“Hmph.” The beautiful faerie looked down his nose. “I suppose you’re hoping we’ll award Ceallach’s protector sword to him.”

“That’s your business,” she said, though the idea had occurred to her.

“Your father has new commitments,” Dubh said flatly. “He’s no longer an appropriate choice.”

Cass didn’t argue. She suspected she’d already won more concessions than the Guild wanted to give her.

“You will need two more protectors,” he continued, making it sound more like a threat than a benefit. “Since you have three dragons.”

That caught her flatfooted. She tried to think quickly. “Well,” she said. “I trust the Guild will select candidates both I and the brood find acceptable.”

She supposed this was an intelligent response, because Dubh leveled a tri-colored glower at her.

“Keeper,” he said, offering her a short bow.

“Guild head,” she returned the same way.

Old Country bureaucrats didn’t do long goodbyes. He turned and stalked back into the penthouse, drawing his fellow Guild members into an obedient line behind him. She watched them recede down the repaired portrait hall, thinking who-knew-what about her human ancestors. Party sounds started up again as they went, but Cass wasn’t ready to return to the festivities.

Her knees still shook a little in reaction.

Rick came up behind her, his warm hands settling on her shoulders. “Everything okay?”

She turned to rest her palms on his chest. “I think so. I told them about the SPRC. They’re leaving the dragons here in return for two board seats.”

“Good.” He put a lot of feeling into that single word.

“I love you,” she said.

“Don’t I know it,” he teased. He hugged her and held her until her legs steadied. Then he held her a little longer, just because it was nice.

“You’re my heart,” he murmured, his lips brushing her temple.

She squeezed him back, then turned her head toward a swoop of movement in the sky. The lead aviator was Grant the gargoyle, circling the terrace with her babies. Party lights illuminated the dragons’ wings from beneath, gleaming gold and green and red as they glided on thermals that rose from her father’s spell. Cass’s heart swelled with pride. Though the brood was small compared to Grant, they didn’t seem less strong.

“They’re so graceful,” Rick said, awe coloring his tone. “When did that happen?”

They might have been graceful, but they weren’t grown up yet. Unable to resist showing off for so many lifted faces, Auric did a loop-de-loop, followed in neat succession by Verdi and Scarlet. The kids watching on the roof
oohed
excitedly.

The joy of the moment was quite perfect.

“They’re magic,” Cass said.

Rick met her gaze and smiled. “The whole world is.”

Cass concluded her wolf was a wise man.

# # #

EMMA Holly is the award winning,
USA Today
bestselling author of more than thirty romantic books, featuring vampires, demons, faeries and just plain extraordinary ordinary folks. She loves the hot stuff, both to read and to write!

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