Page 14 of Confessions of a Middle Aged Dragon Queen
As usual, they were up to no good, daring each other to one dangerous thing after another. It was a daily occurrence and one I’d learned to ignore. After all, they were stupid boys. UGH! Bringing up the rear was the youngest, Barney, the worst of the bunch. Of course, he zeroed in on me, in the far corner, and came up with the bright idea of trying to scare me.
I could hear everything the Mackrelfresh brothers, who were Wyvern Shifters, were discussing. I decided to bide my time and pray that the older brothers could stop their sibling from enacting his foolhardy plan. I heard Geoff, the oldest, say, “No way, Barney. Not only is she a Fire Dragon, but Mom said she’s the first Dragon Queen in three centuries and the eldest of three. The Power of Three is not to be messed with. No one knows the extent of Martha’s Gifts or her Magic. I ain’t messing with her.”
“Yeah,” Wilbur, the middle brother, breathed, obviously more than a little freaked out at the thought of tangling with me.
After the fact, it was all kinda funny. When I had time to think and wasn’t scared that I’d fry all three Mackrelfresh boys to a crisp, it was hilarious that they were scared of me because of a Legend, not because of what they’d seen me do. Because if I were honest, I couldn’t do much, and the Mackrelfresh boys hadn’t seen me do anything impressive in any definition of the word. The Aunts and even my uncles refused to teach me more than basic defense until I learned absolute control over my Shift. They said ‘flaming’ someone was always the last resort, after all other attempts to resolve the situation had failed.
They also loved telling me I had to master a wide range of blades before learning the art of Dragon Fire. Yep—you guessed it. They wanted me, Martha, the Dragon Queen from Dragoon Bootay who’d rather bedazzle her sheath than hold a sword, to learn how to attack, lunge, feint, disengage, riposte, flèche, parry, and retreat. Was the Universe, the Goddess, and Fate sure they had the right girl?
None of that mattered because it wasn’t long before the Mackrelfresh brothers’ discussion took a dark turn. With my right hand partly Shifted into Aideen’s paw and the tip of her left wing poking out of my back, I heard the sound of a fist hitting a jaw. It was dull and muffled, followed by what could only be a soaking wet towel hitting a brick wall. That meant blood was most definitely flowing from somewhere.
Then Barney roared, “You knocked my frikkin’ tooth out, you idiot! I’m gonna fuckin’ kill…”
Spinning to the left and losing my concentration along with my partial Shift, I was just in time to see the unthinkable. Geoff, the oldest, had to launch himself into the air, do a barrel roll to end all barrel rolls, and land with a thudding slide on the opposite side of the paddock to keep from becoming a crispy critter. He just barely escaped the fiery, ferocious blast of flames billowing across the field. The whoosh of fire was so hot I felt my long dark curls sizzle. The crackle and acrid stench of scorched earth filled the air. It was Wyvern Fire. It was angry. And it was used in anger against a Family member.
“It can’t be…” Aideen and I gasped in unison.
My eyes shot to the right. It could be, and it was. There, not fifty feet away, was a fully Shifted, completely Wyvern Barney Mackrelfresh, and the dumbass was taking aim in my direction.
I was frozen in place. I had no clue what to do. Sure, Aunt Jayne taught me plenty of defensive maneuvers, but my mind went blank. I could barely remember my name, let alone how to keep my perfectly curvy ass from getting fricasseed.
I’d seen some Dragon Guardsmen practicing battle maneuvers. Those dudes were big and brawny. Their muscles had muscles. And they had swords—honest to the Goddess swords, with blades so sharp they could separate a man from his head in one swipe. They were the Universe’s Chosen Warriors. Built for battle.
I was Martha—just Martha. I knew I was bound for greatness. My parents made sure I knew how special I was. But faced with a fire-breathing Wyvern who decided I was the enemy, I froze.
Thank the Great Goddess, the Universe, and God with a capital G that Aideen knew what to do. From one second to the next, the Dragon Queen with whom I shared my soul took control.
She forced the full Shift, crossed the paddock in five determined strides, and plucked the shocked Wyvern up by the nape of his neck. Chuckling, a sound that more resembled rocks rolling around in a dryer than laughter, she taunted her prey as his Shift disappeared into thin air, and in human form, he wet his pants. It was so sad.
After handing Barney over to the Guardsmen who had come running into the paddock, Aideen retreated to the back of my psyche, and I was back in control. But I had to ask, “What will happen to Barney?”
“He will be taken to the Council’s Prison, placed in one of the lead and silver-lined cells, and spend many years being shown the error of his ways.”
All I could say was, “Wow.”
So, now that I’ve regaled you with a cautionary tale from my youth, I’ll get back to my story…
(B) I did not argue with my sister, because along with threatening me, she wasn't the least bit interested in why my shop smelled like the Great Barbeque Cook Off and Jamboree of 1965 and she was driving her prized possession– a shiny, shimmering silver Aston Martin DB5 convertible that she'd restored all by herself - the shit was seriously hitting the fan somewhere and she needed my help. I was going to help her save no matter what, come Hell or high water.
Grabbing the handle, I snatched open the door and pushed the front seat up so Arthur and Otis could climb into the back. Holding my breath, I was ready for the speech about their fur in the carpet and their nails scratching the leather interior– but she didn’t say a word, not one damn word, and that kicked my preternatural senses into overdrive. We were headed to Def Con Dragon when Maeve wasn’t worried about the interior of her car.
Pushing the seat back, I slid into the passenger seat, placed Chewy on my lap, and was reaching for the seatbelt when two absolutely insane things happened at precisely the same second.
Theresa Thomas– yes, I was still holding the phone in my hand, and she was still there– calmly inquired, her voice steady but her emotions a jumbled-up mess of fear and worry and the need to rush to save the day, "What is happening? Do I need to send the police? Do you need me? Are you okay? Please be okay. Oh, frig this, I'm on my way. You need me whether you know it or not. I'll track your cell phone. See you in a minute."
Before I could tell Theresa that we had everything under control– a total exaggeration if there ever was one- that sexy Fire Chief, who I wanted to strip naked and have my very wicked way with, vaulted over the side of Maeve's car, hit the backseat with perfect precision right between Athur and Otis, and announced, "Name's Kai Rí, and there's no way in hell I'm letting you out of my sight, Martha Dellencourt. No way, no how.”
(Now, I know what you’re thinking. I’m bettin' it's pretty close to what was going through my mind – how the hell was Theresa going to track my cell phone? I mean, I'd seen that shit on TV shows, but didn't have a clue until that very moment that it was a real thing. My flabbers were seriously ghasted. I was incredibly impressed and…
Wait? What was that? Oh, you’re wondering about Kai? Yeah, okay, I’ll tell you that bit first since you insisted, and because it was… Oh hell, here, just read this bit.
My mind went from Def Con Dragon to Martha’s found her soulmate in less than a flirty bat of my long, dark eyelashes. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that Maeve had everything under control. I mean, we were together, and that was two out of three Dragon Queens. What couldn’t we handle? And she was driving, so, in my mind, there was time for me to get to know my One True Fated Mate. It all made sense in a ‘Martha’s World’ kind of way.
Therefore, without further ado, I tossed my phone into Maeve's lap. It was something we did all the time with pretty much anything and everything, except for coffee and soda, because those would spill. Duh. I mean, let's face it, when in the car, even if you weren’t driving, there was never anywhere to put anything, especially in the teeny, tiny, cramped automobile my dear sister loved so very much. So, as my phone touched down on Maeve’s thigh, I spun in my seat, got up on my knees, and was facing backward faster than you can say, 'Holy shit, Mom, Fae Kings are real.'
Lifting my hands to perch them on the headrest, one atop the other and stare, starry-eyed, at the sexiest man ever to be made by the hands of the Goddess and the Universe, I was instantly and completely tied up in the seatbelt I’d forgotten to unhook. It should have been embarrassing. My cheeks should’ve gotten red. I should’ve slid down the seat and contemplated dying of humiliation.
But that didn’t happen. Not even a little bit.
