Dragon Soul
Page 68
“Indiana Jones.” A fleeting smile graced her lips before she returned to looking worried. “I figured it wasn’t so far off from what you really are. Were. Before the First Dragon bopped you on the head, that is.”
He took the costume, eyed the accompanying bullwhip, gun with holster, and canvas bag, and decided that the situation could be worse. “I am a sociologist, not an archaeologist, but I agree the costume is not obnoxious. Although I refuse to carry around the rubber snake.”
“I think that’s meant to be more of a prop than anything.” She gathered up the second bag and headed for the door. “Since Mrs. P and her pride of models were heading upstairs to the party, I’ll change in her bathroom so you can have ours to have a shower and stuff.”
“You don’t wish to shower together?” he asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“In a heartbeat, but not in that shower. I can barely fit into it as it is.”
He had to allow that the shower was very small.
“It might take me a little longer to get ready, so I’ll meet you upstairs, okay?”
“Very well.” He glanced at his cell phone, willing the mage to call him early. He’d never felt so much like he had his back firmly against a wall, and he didn’t like the sensation one little bit.
Twenty minutes later, he scooped his phone and other items off the table and into the canvas bag slung across his chest, and made his way to the upper deck, there finding the party fully underway. Music played—lively, danceable tunes—at the fore of the ship, the area around it having been cleared to serve as a makeshift dance floor. Beyond that were scattered round tables, two banks of buffet food laid out in the form of a smiling crocodile, and a giant punch bowl. Balloons waved gently overhead, tied to the strings of festival lights that festooned the length of the ship. Standing separated from the others were the captain and two of his officers.
Rowan pushed his hat to the back of his head, feeling rakish despite the silliness of being forced into a costume. Perhaps it was the bullwhip coiled at his belt, or some new dragon emotion running rampant through him, but there was more than a little hint of a swagger when he strolled over to where May and Gabriel stood sipping glasses of what looked to be champagne. “Good evening.”
“It is, thanks to you,” May said, lifting her glass to him.
Gabriel’s lips twisted. “I apologize for not being on hand to help with the challenge. We… erm… we…”
“We were otherwise occupied,” May said smoothly, a smile hovering around her mouth. “Although Gabriel did wrap things up quickly so he could go help you, but the challenge had already started. Was it awful?”
“Moderately so,” he answered, remembering the pain of his burned arm. Absently, he rubbed it.
“There’s only one more to go, and that should not be too onerous.” Gabriel shot him a piercing look that grated on Rowan’s already frayed nerves. “That is, if your soul is not found wanting.”
“I did not kill those dragons,” he ground out through his teeth, and would have given Gabriel a piece of his mind if not for two things: the first was Mrs. P, who was now wearing a Black Swan ballet costume, complete with tiara and theatrical makeup. Behind her a woman followed, a woman who made his heart beat faster just watching her. It was at that moment that Rowan realized that what he was feeling wasn’t just attraction held by a wyvern for his mate but love. Actual love. The kind that hit him hard in the gut and stripped all the breath from his lungs. It pierced his heart, making him simultaneously giddy and a bit frightened. He’d never felt such depth of emotion for anyone, let alone a romantic partner, and here he was completely and utterly besotted with Sophea.
“Hello, everyone.” Sophea smiled at them all, then said with a little nod toward Rowan’s gun belt, “I decided that if you were going to have a gun, then I got one, too. And a knife, and a bow and arrows.” She pulled a gun from the holster strapped to her thigh. He had a hard time taking his eyes from the form-fitting black sleeveless shirt she wore, until he noticed the equally tight black shorts.
“Hmm?” he said, wondering if people would think it was rude if he picked her up and carried her downstairs.
“Gun. One. We both have. And now I’m evidently doing a Yoda impression. Oh, you look nice, May. Is that a flapper outfit?”
May smiled and did a little twirl. “It is. Isn’t the beaded dress exquisite?”
“It’s really very pretty. I’m amazed at the quality of these costumes, to be honest.”
“And you’re Lara Croft?” May guessed.
“Yup. Game version, not Angelina movie version. Game version has lots more weapons.” Sophea did a twirl of her own, one that Rowan much appreciated since it allowed him to admire her ass in the tight shorts without having to stand behind her and blatantly ogle. “I feel armed to the teeth. Doesn’t Rowan look dashing?”
“Very Indiana,” May agreed. “Rowan says you had a hard time with the challenge?”
“Oh, it was awful!” Sophea took a deep breath, then launched into a retelling of what they had gone through, finishing up with, “I can’t tell you how thankful I am that Rowan was there, because if it had been up to me to finish the challenge, I’d still be standing on that little plot of land.”
“I’ve never heard of fire we could not harness,” Gabriel said with a frown. “It burned your flesh? Actually burned it?”
“Definitely,” Rowan answered, rubbing his arm again. “But the healing technique you mentioned helped ease it.”
“Hmm.” Gabriel looked thoughtful. “I must mention this to the others. I don’t like to know there’s something out there that is unique to the dragonkin over which we have no power.”
“I think there’s probably a lot of that,” Sophea said. “We still have this third challenge tomorrow, and that’s not going to be open to persuasion by dragons. I’m still a little unclear as to what’s going to happen.”
“As I understand it,” May said, “we present ourselves to a goddess named Maat, and she decides if we’ve lived a good life or not. If not, we have to stay here. If we have, we get to leave.”
“That’s simplifying it greatly,” Gabriel said, nodding. “But that’s the basics of it.”
He took the costume, eyed the accompanying bullwhip, gun with holster, and canvas bag, and decided that the situation could be worse. “I am a sociologist, not an archaeologist, but I agree the costume is not obnoxious. Although I refuse to carry around the rubber snake.”
“I think that’s meant to be more of a prop than anything.” She gathered up the second bag and headed for the door. “Since Mrs. P and her pride of models were heading upstairs to the party, I’ll change in her bathroom so you can have ours to have a shower and stuff.”
“You don’t wish to shower together?” he asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“In a heartbeat, but not in that shower. I can barely fit into it as it is.”
He had to allow that the shower was very small.
“It might take me a little longer to get ready, so I’ll meet you upstairs, okay?”
“Very well.” He glanced at his cell phone, willing the mage to call him early. He’d never felt so much like he had his back firmly against a wall, and he didn’t like the sensation one little bit.
Twenty minutes later, he scooped his phone and other items off the table and into the canvas bag slung across his chest, and made his way to the upper deck, there finding the party fully underway. Music played—lively, danceable tunes—at the fore of the ship, the area around it having been cleared to serve as a makeshift dance floor. Beyond that were scattered round tables, two banks of buffet food laid out in the form of a smiling crocodile, and a giant punch bowl. Balloons waved gently overhead, tied to the strings of festival lights that festooned the length of the ship. Standing separated from the others were the captain and two of his officers.
Rowan pushed his hat to the back of his head, feeling rakish despite the silliness of being forced into a costume. Perhaps it was the bullwhip coiled at his belt, or some new dragon emotion running rampant through him, but there was more than a little hint of a swagger when he strolled over to where May and Gabriel stood sipping glasses of what looked to be champagne. “Good evening.”
“It is, thanks to you,” May said, lifting her glass to him.
Gabriel’s lips twisted. “I apologize for not being on hand to help with the challenge. We… erm… we…”
“We were otherwise occupied,” May said smoothly, a smile hovering around her mouth. “Although Gabriel did wrap things up quickly so he could go help you, but the challenge had already started. Was it awful?”
“Moderately so,” he answered, remembering the pain of his burned arm. Absently, he rubbed it.
“There’s only one more to go, and that should not be too onerous.” Gabriel shot him a piercing look that grated on Rowan’s already frayed nerves. “That is, if your soul is not found wanting.”
“I did not kill those dragons,” he ground out through his teeth, and would have given Gabriel a piece of his mind if not for two things: the first was Mrs. P, who was now wearing a Black Swan ballet costume, complete with tiara and theatrical makeup. Behind her a woman followed, a woman who made his heart beat faster just watching her. It was at that moment that Rowan realized that what he was feeling wasn’t just attraction held by a wyvern for his mate but love. Actual love. The kind that hit him hard in the gut and stripped all the breath from his lungs. It pierced his heart, making him simultaneously giddy and a bit frightened. He’d never felt such depth of emotion for anyone, let alone a romantic partner, and here he was completely and utterly besotted with Sophea.
“Hello, everyone.” Sophea smiled at them all, then said with a little nod toward Rowan’s gun belt, “I decided that if you were going to have a gun, then I got one, too. And a knife, and a bow and arrows.” She pulled a gun from the holster strapped to her thigh. He had a hard time taking his eyes from the form-fitting black sleeveless shirt she wore, until he noticed the equally tight black shorts.
“Hmm?” he said, wondering if people would think it was rude if he picked her up and carried her downstairs.
“Gun. One. We both have. And now I’m evidently doing a Yoda impression. Oh, you look nice, May. Is that a flapper outfit?”
May smiled and did a little twirl. “It is. Isn’t the beaded dress exquisite?”
“It’s really very pretty. I’m amazed at the quality of these costumes, to be honest.”
“And you’re Lara Croft?” May guessed.
“Yup. Game version, not Angelina movie version. Game version has lots more weapons.” Sophea did a twirl of her own, one that Rowan much appreciated since it allowed him to admire her ass in the tight shorts without having to stand behind her and blatantly ogle. “I feel armed to the teeth. Doesn’t Rowan look dashing?”
“Very Indiana,” May agreed. “Rowan says you had a hard time with the challenge?”
“Oh, it was awful!” Sophea took a deep breath, then launched into a retelling of what they had gone through, finishing up with, “I can’t tell you how thankful I am that Rowan was there, because if it had been up to me to finish the challenge, I’d still be standing on that little plot of land.”
“I’ve never heard of fire we could not harness,” Gabriel said with a frown. “It burned your flesh? Actually burned it?”
“Definitely,” Rowan answered, rubbing his arm again. “But the healing technique you mentioned helped ease it.”
“Hmm.” Gabriel looked thoughtful. “I must mention this to the others. I don’t like to know there’s something out there that is unique to the dragonkin over which we have no power.”
“I think there’s probably a lot of that,” Sophea said. “We still have this third challenge tomorrow, and that’s not going to be open to persuasion by dragons. I’m still a little unclear as to what’s going to happen.”
“As I understand it,” May said, “we present ourselves to a goddess named Maat, and she decides if we’ve lived a good life or not. If not, we have to stay here. If we have, we get to leave.”
“That’s simplifying it greatly,” Gabriel said, nodding. “But that’s the basics of it.”
