Phoenix (26 page)

I have no other option.

Sitting opposite Jala at the small table in the cabin she shares with her grandfather (though he’s back in Azerbaijan for a few weeks right now), I give her my most rational smile and try to speak in a voice that says I’m not a crazy person, and I actually know what I’m talking about. “It’s going to be far more dangerous for me to go in there if you don’t help me.”

“B-but,” Jala stammers. “You can’t do it if I don’t help you.”

“I’m less likely to be successful without your help, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try. Come on, if you’re worried about my safety, then come with me so I’m not alone, at least.”

“You don’t even know what you’re doing.”

I bite back the words that’s never stopped me before, and try to think of the thing that’s most likely to convince her to go along with her side of the plan. “My family will be forever grateful to you for the role you played in helping me find a mate.”

“Your family will forever despise me if anything bad happens to you.” Jala buries her head in her hands. “Your mother saved my life, you know. When I was only a very little girl, and the yagi swarmed the village square—”

“Nothing bad is going to happen to me.” I cut off Jala’s story because I’ve heard it a dozen times already and to be honest I don’t believe she was ever in half as much danger as she thinks she was.

Nor am I going to be in that much danger, but I’ve got to convince her of this. I stand. “Let’s go.”

“We’re not going now! You at least have to wait until three o’clock tomorrow.”

“We’re not going, going now. I just want to peek at his castle, like we did last summer. Come on. It’s perfectly safe.”

“It’s not perfect safe,” Jala pouts, but she stands, anyway.

“I’ll let you ride on my back.” I know Jala’s a sucker for riding on a flying dragon. Who wouldn’t be? Besides maybe breathing fire, flying is our most awesome feature.

And Jala hasn’t had a chance to ride on a flying dragon in almost a year, not since early last summer when most of my family came to Siberia and a bunch of crazy things happened. In the midst of those crazy things, when everyone else was distracted with destroying the water yagi and discovering the yellow dragon, Nia (who ended up marrying my brother), Jala and I sneaked off and I got to see Ion for the first time.

I haven’t been able to forget him. Honestly—Jala thought I might change my mind? If anything, I’m more determined now than ever. I can’t wait to see him again, even if it’s from a distance, spying on him from the Siberian woods.

Is he as handsome as I remember, or did I embellish my memories because of my longing? Has he changed? Will I still feel what I felt when I saw him the first time?

I fling my sweater off and step out onto the porch.

“Be careful. You don’t want to be seen,” Jala reminds me, as if I could ever possibly forget that I can’t allow anyone to see me in dragon form. “Eudora’s still dangerous. I don’t think she’s happy about having her water yagis destroyed, and her yagi population decimated by your brothers’ volcano antics, or whatever that was.” But even in the midst of her protests, Jala climbs onto my back the second I turn into a dragon and crouch low.

Once she’s holding on, I bound forward into the evening sky in the direction of Ion’s castle.

I’ve been looking forward to this for almost a year. Okay, yes, it’s probably dangerous. Ion is supposedly in league with Eudora, who’s been trying for centuries to kill off all the dragons in the world (or maybe just control them—my brother Felix has some interesting theories about this). And I know Ion very nearly killed my father, but there were a lot of extenuating circumstances that don’t apply right now.

But besides all that, there’s this feeling I get when I look at Ion. I can’t explain it. I’ve always had a picture in my head of what I wanted my future husband to look like and be like. Cultured. Sophisticated. Handsome. Articulate. Not a half-mute muscle-head like my dad and brothers (they’re great guys, don’t get me wrong, and I love them all to pieces and all that, but seriously, my father’s almost completely non-verbal. It works between him and my mom because they can practically read each other’s minds or communicate with nose-twitches, or something like that, but that’s not what I want in a mate).

When I saw Ion last summer, it was as though everything I’d wished for had materialized before my eyes, only better. Jala and I saw his castle (which is itself an amazing piece of architecture and I’ve been wanting to explore it since the moment I saw it) and there’s a big balcony off the main ballroom, with these enormous arched windows and a concert grand piano inside. And Ion sat down at the piano and played.

He played the piano!

We couldn’t hear him, or anything, on account of the windows all being closed, but it was beautiful to watch. He closed his eyes and got caught up in the music, and I knew.

I just knew.

This man. This dragon. The only single male dragon in the world I’m not already related to—he has to be the one for me.

There’s just that little part about how everyone in my family hates him, and he might secretly want us all dead, and that. Don’t think I haven’t weighed the pros and cons here. I know it’s complicated. I’ve told myself for the past year my plan is crazy and I should probably just forget about him.

But I haven’t been able to forget about him.

And now I’m here.

I set down in the woods behind some trees, in a spot near the one we observed him from last summer, with a clear view of the ballroom’s high arched windows.

The castle is still, with no signs of life. I don’t see Ion, but the castle is even more gorgeous than I remembered. It’s nestled among the silvery stone mountains, with turrets that jut up like so many mountain peaks. And it’s all silvery green like aged copper. I’ve heard Ion has pale silvery-green eyes, but I’ve never been close enough to him to see them.

I bet they’re beautiful.

“Okay, you saw it. Can we go back to the cabin now?” Jala asks.

I’m pressed against a boulder as big as a car, my knuckles white with excitement as I grip the cold rock, watching, studying the castle windows for any sign of movement, any indication of whether he might be home and what part of the house he may be in.

“I want to see him,” I whisper, willing him to appear. Come on, Ion. Walk in front of a window. Look outside. I just want to catch a glimpse of you. It’s been a year. Just a glimpse.

“You know this guy is dangerous, right?” Jala leans against the boulder, her back to the castle, her arms crossed over her chest. “I mean, he’s a dragon, for one thing.”

“Yes, he’s a dragon, and so am I,” I remind her. “But has he ever done anything to you, specifically, to make you think he’s dangerous?”

“He almost killed your father.”

“I know.” I’m sick of hearing about it. “But that was a long time ago, and they were fighting. I want to know—has he ever done anything to you. Any violence? Threats?”

Jala makes a grumbling noise. “He’s always very polite, but he has these looks, you know? These intense looks, with his eyes. You just know he’s dangerous. He could turn into a dragon at any moment.”

“Are you scared of him?”

“I’m there for a reason, you know. My grandfather and I, we do his back adjustments and massages. He has a lot of tension. He needs us.”

“But are you scared of him?”

“I respect him. I respect that he’s a dragon. But I’m not his arch-enemy, or whatever your family is. I’m not there to trick him.” She uncrosses her arms and gestures to me.

“I’m not going to trick him. I’m just going to win his affections. I’m not a threat to him.”

Jala crosses her arms again. “Just what, exactly, are you planning to do?”

“When you go in tomorrow for his chiropractic massage appointment, I’ll go with you. We’ll explain that I’m the substitute, that I’m going to learn how to do his adjustments since your grandfather is getting old and you want to go home and visit your family from time to time. It makes perfect sense. It’s a great cover.”

“And then?”

“And then I learn how to fix his back.” I stop studying the lifeless castle long enough to look at Jala and see if she’s getting any of this. “I’m a dragon. I know what the issue is with our backs, where our wings grow out. The bones get out of joint sometimes. My dad has the same problem. My mom fixes it by plowing her elbow into his back like a pile driver.”

“Ion’s not really the pile driver type.”

“I know. But I can fix his back for him.”

“And?”

“And one thing will lead to another.” I go back to studying the castle.

“I’ve been fixing his back for years,” Jala reminds me. “One thing has never led to another.”

“You’re not a dragon. I am.”

“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?” A note of realization hits Jala’s voice.

Caught.

“I know exactly what I’m doing.” I try to sound like I know what I’m talking about, never mind that I’ve only ever been on a few dates, and most of those were group things with a bunch of friends, out to dances or couples tennis, or whatever. And never with a dragon. “I’m trying to save my species from extinction by finding a mate.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing.” This time, the tone in Jala’s voice is conclusive. She’s made up her mind. “Have you ever even kissed a guy?”

“Ion is a dragon.”

“Not relevant. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“Shh! He’s there! That window, third turret from the left, two down from the roof.”

“Probably where he keeps his prisoners. You know, the ones who show up to seduce him.” Jala makes a face, but looks where I’m pointing.

“Shh!” I insist again, not that he could possibly hear us, but just because I don’t need her arguing with me when I’m trying to focus. He’s there. Right inside that castle turret. So close I could see him if he would just look outside.

The curtains move—just those curtains, not any others, so it’s not as though there’s a surprise breeze blowing them, unless that window is the only one open. But why would it be open unless someone opened it? Either way, there is almost certainly something on the other side of the window. As a dragon, I have super-sharp vision, even when I’m in human form. But I can’t see through curtains.

Fingers grip the fabric and move it to the side. Another hand appears, this one working the window latch, and I realize what looked like a big arched window from this distance, is actually a casement door, with a balcony.

The glass pane swings outward.

A man steps out.

Ion.

He’s even more handsome than I remembered him. His dark hair hangs loose nearly to his shoulders, and his goatee is trimmed in a crisp anchor shape, which accents his jawline. He is tall, his slim waist emphasized by the cut of his coat, a classic smoking jacket like out of an old movie. He is so classy, so sophisticated.

Positively dreamy.

“Get down!” Jala whispers and tugs on my arm.

“He can’t see me.” I’m staring, yes, peering past this big rock, trying desperately to see his eyes. I want to know what color they are, exactly.

He casts a sweeping glance across the valley. We’re probably a mile from him, but with my dragon vision, I can see him almost as though I’m looking through a pair of binoculars. His gaze comes to rest in our direction, and I finally see his eyes.

Pale, pale green. Almost a silvery green. Like the mountains, and the northern lights, like the haze of dawn and new things.

Jala’s voice cuts off my thoughts. “If you can see him, he can see you. He’s a dragon, too, remember? Get down.”

CHAPTER TWO

I duck, pressing my back to the rock, trying to catch my breath.

Why do I feel winded?

Did he see me? Is that why he was looking this way? For the first time, I wonder what my hair looks like, and wish maybe I’d bothered with makeup. I’m not even wearing my contacts, so my crazy magenta-violet dragon eyes were probably glowing all jewel-like through the woods at him.

“Oh, no! Do you think he saw me?” I cover my face with my hands, though it’s pitifully too late and pointless now that I’m behind the boulder. “Is he still there?”

Jala raises up in a crouch and peeks over the boulder. “I can’t tell. You’re the one with the amazing dragon vision.”

I flip around and peek over the boulder. “He’s gone. The window’s closed. I don’t think he saw me. If he saw me, wouldn’t he still be standing there looking to see if I peek back out at him?”

“Unless he went back in so he can come out here and track you down.”

I stare at the castle, studying the rest of the windows. “I don’t see any other signs of movement. Why did he even come to the window, do you think?”

“Maybe he sensed he was being spied on.”

“Can he sense that?”

“How would I know? You’re the dragon.”

“Has he ever said anything that would indicate he can sense things like that? I don’t know that many dragons, mostly just the ones I’m related to. Who knows if some of the others have special powers, or extra senses, or whatever?” I slump back down into a seated position, with my back to the boulder. I miss my sweater.

“He doesn’t really talk to me.” Jala slumps beside me. “Do you think he has powers or extra senses?”

“I don’t know.” I weigh whether I should tell her what I learned about him. Since I still need to convince her to help me, maybe it’s best that I let her in on what I gleaned from my mother and grandfather. “After last summer, I wanted to find out everything I could about Ion—to find out if I’d be crazy to come back out here.”

“You are crazy.”

“No, seriously, I learned some things.” I raise back up and peek over the boulder. Still no sign of life from the castle. “Maybe we should head back to the cabin. It’s going to be dark out in a few hours.”

“Walking?”

“I don’t dare fly as a dragon, not if there’s any chance he saw me.” I rise and brush the dirt off my skirt before picking my way back toward the spy cabin. It’s a couple of miles away over some fairly rugged terrain, and I’m barefoot from being in dragon form. Fortunately the ground here is mostly pine needles, which aren’t too prickly for my calloused feet. I grew up walking barefoot in mountains just as rugged as these.