Page 211 of Nine-Tenths

Fuck that.

I look across the room at Laura. She's standing now, the closest she's come to showing any loyalty to Simcoe during all of this. Her hands are locked around the back of the bench in front of her, mouth twisted in a grim line. Slowly, just once, she blinks.

Once for yes.

Two for no.

I wait for a second.

It doesn't come.

"Go on," I say.

Small noises slap against the vaulted ceilings. But nothing so vulgar as a gasp of horror.

"No skin off my nose," I add, when no one says anything else. When no one moves. "And it's not like he doesn't deserve it." I shake off the guard. They let me. I take a step forward. I'm not stopped. I take another, then another, and just like that, I'm at the top of the human-sized steps that lead down into that horrible, blood-stained pit. "If you want to do it. If this is something youwant, then I'll support you."

"This is your life, your choice as well!" Dav says.

"I know." I want so badly to reach out to him, put my hand on his hide. But Simcoe is still trying to fight, muscles jumping, intact eye rolling, tongue lashing. I'm not actually stupid enough to jump in there like a romance novel heroine when there's still a chance Simcoe would crush me with his tail. "And I love you for asking me. But my choice right now is to follow your lead. Mine Own."

Dav's whole body shivers, eyes closing briefly. Then Dav rears up, throat sparking and clicking. Decision made.

"Alva!" Simcoe shrieks.

Davspits. This close, the heat frizzles the hair on my face, slamming into me like a brick wall. It's so much like thatmorning in the kitchen that my scars twinge.Hold it together!I don't tell myself to take deep breaths, because they'll taste like charred flesh.

When Dav stops blowing, Simcoe is…

Simcoe is screaming, high and thready.

But he isalive.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Dav disengages his talons from Simcoe's ruined hide, and lifts his head so Simcoe's remaining eye can meet his. Simcoe's screams die down to a pained keening.

"Remember that a human you entrapped, and a dragon you betrayed, elected to let you live.Together."

And then he walks away.

Limps, more like it.

I move toward him, feeling like I should be running in slow motion, but an authoritative voice cuts through the melodramatic romance of throwing myself at my victor.

"Give me the research, Dragon's Own," the queen says, holding out her hand. "I will give it all due consideration."

"That's all we ever asked, Your Majesty," I manage to squeeze out, frozen on the steps. I grope back at the table for the briefcase. The guard takes pity and pushes it into my hand.

Disheveled and still panting from all the excitement, I cross the stone pit. Sidestepping the blood, I hand the ruler of the British Empire the key to saving the world.

She stands slowly, and with no further word, departs. The members of the royal family follow in her wake.

I wait until the royal box is empty, for the full retreat of the crown, before I lunge at my dragon. He meets me halfway. I throw my arms around his neck, and press my face against the side of his, and hide a relieved sob against his scales. I'm pretty sure every person in the slowly-emptying room heard it anyway.

Dav and I are ignored while more of the paramedics descend on Simcoe with a stretcher. He's whisked out of the chamber faster than I thought it could happen—though I guess they'd have practice with this kind of thing.

On the far side of the ring, Laura Secord stands alone in the shadows. No dragon or Favorite is crowding close to see if she's okay. She is by herself in what I can only guess is her misery.

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