Page 40 of Deadly Maiden

Curiously, I don’t know. Do they retrieve life or merely re-animate a lifeless body?

Nonetheless, it does not change my vow and should not alter my decision if I ever need to decide to kill her for evilness.

She has questions for me. I feel we both seek answers.

Below, I spy the winding, darkening shine of the Georgie River. That clearing looks adequate, so I spiral down, scanning for other living creatures. If anyone sees me land, they will knowshe, too, is here, if they have seen the posters or heard the news about us. We are a pair, at the moment.

And she has questions.

I stutter to a halt, my feet thumping down, skidding, and tearing up the grass, leaving parallel furrows in the earth.

For these questions, I need to be prepared. But should I abstain from this flirting?

She slides off me and backs away. Despite the descending gloom, her dark leggings and shirt, despite the added shadows of the cloak, my dragon eyes discern the curves of her thighs. Her curves higher up also.

I react to her femaleness, and flirting becomes a minor worry. Luckily, my dragon phallus is well hidden in a sheath unless I choose to reveal it.

Fuck me, though, I am aching. Shifting back will cure me of this erection. It will not answer my own question—why am I becoming so enamored of this girl’s body?

I have had no mate for fifty years and more. A necromancer’s spawn is not an appropriate creature to rut with.

Rutting.Argh.Why did I have to think of that. Another second and I would’ve sprouted below notwithstanding my sheath. I’m out of practice with this love stuff.

I bellow at her, “TURN ASIDE! I MUST SHIFT TO MAN SHAPE.”

She runs off and claps her hands about her ears.

“SORRY. I mean, sorry.”

As always, the shift feels instantaneous, and I find myself on one knee. I am naked, of course. I should’ve remembered that too.

“Do not look! I must find clothes.”

“Okay,” she squeaks.

I eye her, suspicious of her intent. If she is peeking past her hands, I cannot be sure. Though lying about looking is notexactly bad, is it? I stride to where I dropped our gear and shuffle through the bags.

When I shifted on the road, I lost my sword, along with the shredded clothes. I will need another sword if only to appear normal when in a town. Next time I must prepare myself better. Though…

Will there be a next time? Fear stirs in my chest. I don’t know because I also do not know why I regained my ability to shift.

“Are you decent?” she asks.

“When am I never not decent?” I pull a blue shirt from my bag, one with tarnished silver buttons, then a new pair of black breeches. A belt. Two sets of clothes are all I have left. “I have no damn boots. I burst them when I shifted. Luckily my feet are tough.”

“Are. You. Decent?”

“Yes.” I’m doing up the last button on my pants when she looks. And stares.

I find myself assessing her, yet again. I’m dreaming about handling Wyntre when I am supposed to be impartial and assessing her for evil doings. I drag my gaze off her and point to the riverbank, as if something good or interesting sits over there.

What is wrong with me?

“Let’s make camp here. Morning, we will start walking. The next town is about two hours away. Venin. I will not risk being dragon so close to a town, until we know more.”

She nods vigorously, and I see how red her cheeks are. She blushes often and visibly.

I breathe slower, feel my nostrils expand as I take in her scent, and I turn once more to the river. “You wanted to bathe?”

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