Smitten (20 page)

“Use your breath, Grandma!”

Blue-white lightning crackled across the space between them, faster than Max could blink. Lances of electricity seized his body in a state of paralysis, and while neither of them were fighting with the full force of their ability, it still stung his toughened hide. He came out of it in time to bat her away as she lunged forward. She dodged his next slash, darted in beside him, and left a stinging mark down his flank.

“
Ow
,” Max said. He twisted around for a look at the scratches in his hide. Ēostre’s claws could have cleaved him down to the muscle if she’d wanted. Male dragons might have had the greater size and brawn, but their talons were blunt compared to the terrifying weapons held by their female counterparts.

“Was it too much? Did I hurt you?”

“No, no. Mere scratches,” he assured. “Hardly any blood.”

“Grandma wins!” Astrid bounced from side to side with her excitement. “Right, Daddy? That means she won, right? Grandpa Max said ouch.”

When Ēostre approached to fawn over his flesh wound, Max took the initiative. He tackled her, pinning her to the earth and disturbing a cloud of dust. She squirmed and nipped at him in an effort to regain her freedom, but he didn’t budge.

“That’s cheating!”

“It’s very fair,” Max disagreed. “She can’t get away without using magic.”

Ēostre pushed with her hind claws, but her talons, despite their razor sharp tips, couldn’t scratch his belly where his skin was toughest.

“Ugh,” she grunted. “You’re heavy.”

“And you’re beautiful.” Max touched their snouts together and growled playfully. “But I have won our spar. Do you concede?”

“I suppose I can give you this win,” Ēostre replied before nipping his shoulder.

“Get a room!” Saul called.

“Yeah!” Chloe agreed. “Not on my lawn!”

“There are young eyes watching,” Astrid said.

Laughing, Max let Ēostre up from beneath him. She shook the dirt from her radiant, white feathers and cheerfully leaned against his side, unfazed by her defeat.

“I see nothing has changed, and you still spar like you’ve taken lessons from the Patriots, Maximilian.” Saul chuckled and set his arm around Astrid’s back. “A warning to you, my daughter, he plays dirty, as you have seen. He’s crushed me countless times in the past, and my bones still remember it.”

“I’m not afraid,” Astrid said. “When can we practice again, Grandpa Max?”

“I’ll take a look at my schedule and make sure to dedicate a few hours to you as often as I can.”

Astrid considered his words before nodding. “Okay. Thank you, bye!” She ran back towards the house, leaving the adults alone.

“Thanks for this, Max. She’s never said so, but I know she was down about not being able to use her breath.” Chloe smiled up at him. “My little girl is growing up so fast.”

Saul rolled his eyes. “That isn’t what you said to me a month ago.”

“Shut up, you,” she grumbled. “So, what’s next for you two then? Are you, um, going to take this public soon or wait until after you get sworn in?”

Max chuckled. “It was nothing, I’m happy to teach Astrid. As for coming out to the public. I believe I shall enjoy the pleasure of courting Ēostre in public. We know how the world loves its gossip, and I look forward to giving them something to watch.”

Chapter 14

Mahuika entered the premier antiquities store of Boston, Massachusetts with a smile on her face. A scent hung in the air and permeated the open lobby, wafting to her from glossy wooden shelves holding rows of leather-bound books. The place smelled like dust and old things, aged paper, priceless memorabilia, and treasured goods protected by collector after collector.

It smelled like trash and worthless relics to Mahuika, who preferred the gleam of gold and odorless gems. She gave a disdainful sniff as she passed a dress form mannequin clothed in a vintage dress from the 40s.

She had a storehouse full of them, and no desire to revisit the style any time soon. If not for Loki insisting she carry out the task herself, she wouldn’t bother to step one foot inside the witch’s little storefront shack.

Classical jazz whispered from the shop’s speakers, contrasting the junk in the aisles. Mahuika passed old signs and out of print paperbacks lining shelves that were tidy but full.

A bright-eyed young woman in a sophisticated pencil skirt and low-cut white blouse approached Mahuika. “Hello, ma’am. Have you been helped?”

“I would like to speak to the owner.”

“She’s busy at the moment. Is there anything I may do to help you?”

“Yes, find your employer.”

“Can I give her a message?” the associate asked.

The smile slipped from Mahuika’s face. When she breathed in, she smelled the saccharine sweet scent of mana clinging to the girl’s skin, human magic and sorcery interwoven in a subtle seduction spell. Probably some trick to force men to part more easily with their money.

“Yes. You may pass her a message.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice to a terse whisper. “Tell your employer if she values the safety of this dust-infested hut, she will provide her company to Mahuika of Aoteoroa. If you know what I am and understand what I can do to you, you will deliver this message to her without fail, little witch.”

The girl’s mouth opened, only to snap shut again in wide-eyed terror.

“There’s no need to threaten my employees, you old snake,” Agnes spoke up from an open doorway. “Let’s talk in private. Mira, tend shop for me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As Agnes led the way to the rear of the store, they passed over an enchanted threshold to discourage thievery. The magical charm made Mahuika’s skin tingle and nothing more, a mild irritation that couldn’t cause her harm even if she did decide to steal. She sniffed disdainfully.

Beyond the initial storefront, they reached a chamber where the decor met Mahuika’s initial expectations. Glass cases lined the walls, housing all manner of shiny and expensive baubles, a transformation taking the hag’s shop from tacky thrift store to high-end antique dealership.

The witch whirled to face her once they were in private. She’d touched up her appearance with magic, smoothing the worst of her wrinkles and stuffing her old bones into a chic dove gray suit. From ninety to late fifties in a single spell. “What do you want?” She wasted no time with pleasantries.

“I came to enlist your aid in bringing down Maximilian.”

The old crone cackled. “And why would I do that when he is doing exactly what I hope? Business will be booming once people realize my spells and fortune telling are legitimate.”

“I am telling you, not asking you, Agnes the Black.” The dragoness curled her lips back from her teeth.

“You crossed the line by coming into my shop to make demands. Scaring my student that way and threatening my belongings. I don’t have to do anything you tell me to do. Now get out of here. I have tricks for dragons like you, and even
you
won’t like what happens if I use it.”

“Ohhh, yes, your tricks.” Mahuika smiled slyly and removed a sleek mobile phone from her purse. “Once I tell the rest of the dragon council about your little trophy, what do you think will happen to you then? Will your little tricks protect you against a flock of us? Perhaps I should call Watatsumi now…”

Agnes silenced. Her features became stony and her eyes narrowed. “Loki told you?”

“Now you understand how much he desires Maximilian’s downfall. He and Ēostre must suffer.”

“And how should I do that?”

“Release the heartstone.”

Agnes paled. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“On the contrary, I know exactly what I’m asking — for you to release the one thing on this earth able to ruin their happiness and tear them apart. Now, where do you keep it?”

“What a bossy lizard,” Agnes muttered under her breath. “Here.” The witch slid an oil painting aside to reveal a digital safe embedded in the wall. Opening it revealed a single treasure, a fist-sized ruby on a soft bed of velvet. It pulsed with a gentle light, rhythmic, slow, and filled with magic.

“How long will it take for the spell to take effect? How long?” Mahuika asked. She licked her lips and followed in the hag’s shadow.

“I can’t do this kind of work in the blink of an eye,” Agnes snapped. “You’re a dragon. Have some patience.”

“How long will it take?” Mahuika repeated, enunciating each word. Her eyes flashed.

“A year, maybe two. Anything more may be courting danger. It’ll risk everything.”

Mahuika’s nostrils flared. Instinct told her to crush the hag and take the jewel to one of the crone’s dark acquaintances, but on the other hand, none of them were likely to understand the spell. “Fine. Keep me updated on your progress. I want Maximilian ruined.”

“Why go to such extremes? This won’t stop him from going forward to expose us.”

“It’s not about that anymore. This is revenge.”

Chapter 15

April: 17 Months Later

Max slid behind the sophisticated desk in the oval office and ran his fingers over the polished wood surface. Despite having more than a year behind him since his inauguration into the White House, every day still felt like a miracle. They were one step closer to accomplishing their dream of uniting shifters, magicians, and humans by coming out to the world.

Although enjoyable, the first year hadn’t been all smooth sailing. Between adjusting to the presidency and giving Ēostre the proper courtship she’d deserved, his days were busy and the nights long.

The staff went out of their way to make him happy, and fixtures from his old life in California were brought to add a sense of normalcy to his new but stressful routine. Hiring Lynette onto the housekeeping staff had at least provided a familiar face who knew his personal preferences. It also kept the young woman in a job, since he’d felt awful about laying her off after his departure from the governor’s mansion.

For the most part, they kept the truth about his nature a closely guarded secret, and most members of his Secret Service detail remained none the wiser. Key members in the CIA, FBI, and Department of Defense knew, of course — Ian had given them full disclosure. The head honchos had watched Max with greedy eyes during their first meeting together, thrilled with the idea of a leader who could breathe napalm and rain fire from the skies on their enemies.

Max didn’t plan to let them use him as a weapon, however. He lacked the volatile nature his fire dragon kin were known for and had visions of peace for the future.

Ēostre entered the office and shut the door behind her. “Aren’t you finished working for the day?”

“Not yet. I have a few e-mails to answer, and then we can meet with the planner.”

“Mm… well, make it quick then.”

The world’s most gorgeous distraction settled on the edge of his desk, facing him with her legs crossed. Her navy blue, sleeveless dress would have been knee-length on most women, but her long legs revealed inches of thigh.

“I can’t believe it’s been over a year already,” she murmured. He idly caressed up and down her shin, appreciating the smooth silk under his touch. Sweet Ancestors, he couldn’t concentrate on his work with her near, and a year of making love to her in every way imaginable hadn’t curbed his urges in the least.

“
I
can’t believe we’ll be married this upcoming week. Are you excited?”

“It’s only a silly human tradition,” the dragoness said. Contrary to her words, a warm smile curved her lips and color bloomed over her cheeks, revealing it was more to her than a stupid mortal custom. It had come to mean something to them as yet another manifestation of their love.

Maximilian shutdown the computer and stood. “The rest can wait until tomorrow. I’ll answer them before the teleconference with the British Prime Minister.”

Arm in arm, they left his work behind and traveled to the covered walkway. Her heels clicked against the ground, a methodic noise amidst the chirping birds.

“Where did you leave Spartacus?” Ēostre suddenly asked.

“In my room. He likes to try and chime in on phone calls, the rascal. I asked Lynette to come fetch him during lunch.”

Ēostre laughed. For his birthday, the family had gotten together and discovered an African Grey breeder preparing to retire several specimens from his program. Spartacus was an exceptional creature with a smattering of red plumage amidst the typical gray feathers. They loved him dearly, especially Astrid. He was family to them. “Yes, I can imagine a parrot offering advice to world leaders isn’t well accepted.”

“Hopefully he hasn’t nested in your underthings again. He took personal offense to the last time he was parted from my office, and I think it would hurt his feelings to exclude him from the wedding, too,” Max jested. Ēostre had appropriated a few drawers in his bureau for her own personal belongings, dedicating one to French-cut negligee, softening the blow of losing his personal space. As far as he was concerned, she could have the entire dresser and all the closets if she’d fill them with silk panties and corsets.