Текст книги "The Dragon's Favorite Strays"
Автор книги: Ruby Dixon
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 26 страниц)
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CHAPTER 48
DAKOTA
“She looks so good, doesn’t she?” Aggie straightens the little hat she’s put atop Stella’s head and beams at the dog as if she’s cured cancer. “Such a smart girl.”
The smart girl has twin strings of drool hanging from her jowls. Her tail thumps on the ground, and she settles herself at Aggie’s feet, placid and fat with puppies. She’s also insanely enormous, easily the biggest dog I’ve ever seen. No wonder Curtis was so fired up to get her. He could sell mutant guard dog puppies to people in forts and make a fortune. “She’s huge,” I point out to Aggie, who might be smaller than Stella in size. “Is there a breed of dog bigger than a Great Dane?”
“Pfft, she’s not that big,” Aggie says dismissively. “And she eats less than Dottie.”
Dottie just makes a face at her friend. Rabbit giggles, the sound as happy as ever, and she pulls Kermit into her lap as we all sit near the fire and warm up dinner.
I’m glad they can relax after the day we’ve had. Me, I’m going to be hearing the words of the nomad in my nightmares. He’s told the fort about us. It doesn’t matter if Murr dumps him five hundred miles from here—if he really told someone at the fort that we have solar panels, they’ll come looking. And with every fort I’ve had experience with, they don’t appreciate people that do their own thing.
We’re in danger, but we can hide easily. I’m more concerned about Murr, because if a fort gets their hands on a dragon, who knows what they’ll do to him? And Murr is good and kind and sweet…and innocent. They could abuse that easily, and the thought terrifies me.
I’m going to have to convince him that he’s better off on his own, somehow.
We sit around the fire until it’s late, and Dottie pulls out knitting and a blanket she’s working on. “It’s going to be a cold winter,” she tells us. “We’re going to need to prepare as much as we can.”
“Can you show me how to knit?” Rabbit asks.
“If we can find more yarn, of course.”
My daughter looks over at me, her eyes bright.
“There’s bound to be a craft store somewhere in the area. We can look around when we get some free time.”
“I bet if you asked Murr to lift you in the air, you could see a lot more, Mom,” Rabbit says.
She’s not wrong, but I’m also planning on telling Murr to leave when he gets back. It’s for his own safety. “We’ll see.”
When Murr returns, it’s well past sunset and I’m nervous that he’s been gone so long. Hell, I seem to be nervous about everything lately. I’m just one big bundle of anxiety when it comes to him. The only reason I know it’s Murr is that the breeze he causes as he sails overhead nearly puts our fire out. I expect him to pop up a moment later, but he shifts to his human form at the far end of the parking lot and approaches our fire. The cats rush towards him with a chorus of meows, and he meows back at them.
It takes everything I have not to jump to my feet and throw my arms around him. I manage to keep it cool, noticing that he’s wrapped his loins before coming to sit at the fire.”Hi there,” I say, offering him a plastic bottle full of freshly boiled water. “All good?”
“Good,” he agrees. He takes the water from me, but doesn’t drink. Instead, he reaches out and touches my face, turning it slightly so he can examine the scrapes along my chin. He frowns at the sight but strokes it gently before releasing me.
“Enough flirting,” Dottie says. She nudges Aggie with her knitting needle, and Aggie awakens with a snort. “What did you do with Curtis?”
“Curtss,” he says, repeating. “Bad…man. Yes?”
“That’s right,” Rabbit says. “Very bad.”
“Murr fly.” He raises a hand, gesturing at the horizon. “Fly, fly, fly. Big water. Bad man…” He clenches a fist and then releases it, flattening, as if to mimic that he dropped him over the water.
Aggie chuckles. “I hope that was the ocean.”
Murr moves to Stella’s side and crouches near her. The dog immediately goes to him, licking his cheeks and covering him with slobbery kisses. He submits to this, grimacing as it continues. “Stella…good.”
“She’s very good. That’s enough, Stella. Let someone else love on him for a while. Like, say, Dakota.” She gives me the most obvious wink possible.
Oh brother. I take the water bottle from Murr and wet a towel, offering it to him so he can wash his face clean of dog slobber. “Why don’t we let Murr and Stella get acquainted tomorrow morning? It’s late and we could all use some sleep.”
And I personally need to talk to a dragon about plans for the future.
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CHAPTER 49
DAKOTA
Rabbit wants to know all about Murr’s journey and where he dumped the nomad, and what it looked like from above and if there were any landmarks and…
“He can tell us all about it tomorrow,” I reassure her, picking up a random cat that rubs against my leg and plopping it into her arms. “Murr’s tired and it’s late, and Aggie and Dottie will want to hear what he has to say. Let’s save it for the morning, all right?”
She stifles a yawn, looking over at Aggie, who’s asleep in her chair again. Dottie’s managing to stay awake, but just barely, her eyes mere slits. “Tomorrow, then.” Rabbit gets up, cat still in her arms, and moves to Murr. She gives him a one-armed hug, then me one, and then Dottie and Aggie. “Night, everyone.”
Three cats trail after her, no doubt because she’s good to snuggle with.
“That’s my cue,” Aggie says, heaving herself to her feet. “Come on, Stella girl.”
The massive dog follows after Aggie, but Dottie lingers behind for a moment. She takes a long time to put away her knitting, and when she finally stands up, she moves to my side instead of heading to bed. Dottie takes my hands in hers. “She isn’t going to say it in so many words,” Dottie says, voice low and soft. “But what you did today to help us was kind and thoughtful, and we appreciate it more than you realize.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I protest. “I literally fell out of a window.”
“Murr listens to you, not to the rest of us. We noticed.” She squeezes my hands, hers trembling. “Aggie hasn’t been herself since Stella got taken. She’s been so subdued and sad. We thought we’d never see that dog again. I just want to say thank you for giving two old ladies hope.” She turns to Murr, beaming him a smile. “Both of you.”
Aggie has been subdued? Jesus Christ on a cracker. “Again, it was all Murr.”
She turns to Murr and puts her arms out. “Then let me hug you, Big Meat.”
He carefully wraps his arms around Dottie, as if she’s the most fragile of creatures, and when she pats his back, he pats hers. He glances over at me, as if seeking reassurance that this is normal, and holds her until she lets him go. She releases him, gives me a brief hug as well, and then waves a hand. “And now I’m off to bed. I hope that dog didn’t get my spot, because she snores like a freight train.”
“Let me know if you need more bedding,” I call after her. “We can make a bed for Stella if we need to.”
She disappears into the store, and then it’s just me and Murr by the fire.
I glance over at him, suddenly nervous as he turns towards me. “Well, now we have a dog. A pregnant dog. At this rate, you’re going to collect an entire menagerie of strays. I hope you don’t mind catching a lot of food because if this continues, we’re going to have a veritable…Noah’s…Ark…”
My words trail off as he cups my cheeks with both hands. He stares down into my eyes, his thumb-claw grazing over my lower lip. God, the way he’s looking at me, it’s as if he’s trying to memorize my face. He cradles me tenderly, and I’m helpless in front of his warm, intense gaze.
“Dakotah,” he murmurs, and then leans in to kiss me.
Oh, mercy. Stay strong, Dakota. I bite back the groan that rises in my throat as his tender lips brush over mine. It’s the best feeling in the universe, and I want to kiss for hours…but we can’t. With insane self-control, I pull his hands from my face and meet his gaze. “Murr, wait. We need to talk about the future. I think you need to go for your own safety. Find some other place to set up shop. The fort’s going to think we’re rich and they’re going to come after us. It’s one thing for me and Rabbit to hide, but it’s another for you. And if they realize you’re a friendly dragon, they might not want to let you go. I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you.” I realize I’m rambling word-soup at him, so I boil it down more. “Murr not safe here. Murr go.”
He tilts his head at me, a clear question.
“More bad men will be coming,” I say. “Murr not safe. Murr go.”
That strange, erotic mouth of his curves into a hint of a smile, flashing his fangs. He cups my face again and leans in so his nose brushes against mine. “No.”
I can’t help myself. I move in toward him, closing the distance and kissing him. Just a quick, stolen kiss. Just a sip. “Murr, yes.”
“Dakotah, no.” He kisses me again, his tongue sweeping over my lower lip in a quiet invitation. “Dakotah here, Murr here.”
Those four words speak volumes. “I’m not going to convince you, am I?”
He kisses me again, gently tasting my upper lip, then back to my lower lip again. He showers me with the sweetest kisses, until I give in and slide my hands to his waist, holding him close as his tongue touches mine. No man has ever kissed me like this before him, like I’m the most precious thing in the world. Like he’s been starving for my touch all day long, and now he wants to feast.
All right, if he’s not going to leave, we’ll need a plan B.
Just…as soon…as we stop kissing…
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CHAPTER 50
One Month Later
MURR
No wonder humans wear a dozen layers of clothing at all times. I pull my loin wrap tighter around my hips, wondering if I should switch to my battle-form, where the wind and cold do not bother me. The skies clouded overnight and instead of the normal balmy “ween-turr” weather, there is an icy breeze that makes the cats run for shelter and huddle in corners. I want to shift into my battle-form to warm them, too…but when I am in battle-form, there are no kisses and no caresses.
Two legs it is.
Dakota reassures me that the hay we put down for the cats in the other building will help them keep warm. Most of the cats have migrated over to the bookstore, because Rabbit gives them treats and pets and they curl up in her bed. There are a few cats that don’t like humans at all, but I make sure they are fed regardless.
I do not care for some humans, either.
“Murr, wilu hand me dat tarp?” Dakota says, gesturing at the blue rustling sheet near my feet. She speaks slowly so I can understand her words, along with the hand movements. “S’for my plants.”
“Why?” I ask as I drag the long, noisy length of blue…something over to her. It is not leather, for it rustles too much. I do not know what it is, only that when she woke up and saw her breath frosting, she dragged several of them out of the supply room and got to work. It is shaped a lot like the blanket she likes to wrap herself in, but the feeling is very different. “Is…bed?”
She takes the tarp from me and moves to the row of plants she’s been nurturing in a sunny spot in the parking lot. Dakota saved some of the hay we retrieved for the cats and piled it over her tiny greens. “Cover to keep warm. Tarp, hay.” With an ear-deafening rustle, she lays the tarp over her plants. “Protect from cold.”
Interesting. Dakota always has a plan of action for everything. I admire this about her. There is never a scenario that she is not ready for. “Dakota smart,” I praise.
She beams at me, smiling. Her nose is pink in the cold, and she shivers in the air before tucking the tarp around the plants again. Rabbit is working on bringing in piles of hay—dried grasses from the field nearby that we cut down with some strange blade—over to ensure the cats are warm. Dottie and Aggie are just outside the doors of the bookstore, huddled in blankets and tending to a small fire out of the way of the wind.
Stella is inside, probably passing gas and sleeping. The dog is a strange creature, far less fastidious than the cats. She is very easygoing, though.
I gesture at the window in the bookstore, which is full of more of Dakota’s plants. In the days since we last saw the bad male, she has been seeding pots and filling them with dirt. Something about “goinallin” which I do not yet grasp.
Dakota nods at me. “We’ll cover them too. Later.”
“Later” is a sound that means “not right now,” so I wait to see what Dakota has planned. I move closer to her so I can assist in whatever we work on next. The wind rips again, ruffling my mane and tearing the loin wrap from my hips.
Immediately, Aggie hoots. “BIG MEAT.”
“Ignore her,” Dakota says, stripping off her outermost layer of clothing, the puffy thing she calls a “coat.” She removes the next layer, too, and hands it to me.
“For…chest?” I hold the small garment up to my pectorals, amused. We are not nearly close in size, Dakota and myself. This might fit over one arm.
She makes a face at me and grabs the long dangly parts on the sides—sleeves, I remember—and ties them to my waist. The front part flaps and covers my cock, once again proving just how protective she is of me as her territory.
I do not mind. These small moments when she asserts her ownership over me are my favorite ones.
Dakota adjusts the material around my hips, then gives me a little pat and steps back. She puts her coat back on and eyes me as she does. “Not cold?”
I shrug. I do not have the words yet for “the breeze is annoying but I am fine.” “Dragon warm. Always warm.”
“You should change to dragon, then.”
Brushing a lock of hair behind her ear with my claws, I grin at her. “Later.”
She blushes furiously, my human, and it only makes me grin wider. It is fascinating that she thinks the others have no idea about us. That we meet in Dakota’s bed every night for kissing and caressing before she curls up into my arms and goes to sleep. That she is covered in my scent and touches me constantly, and we spend all of our time together. I only kiss her when we are alone, as I have been taught, but I do not mind if the others know how I feel about her.
I would make Dakota my mate, give her my bite, my fires. The only reason I have not? I want her to ask me first.
And she has not asked. She will kiss me happily, but she has not asked for more.
I must be content…
My nostrils prick as a strange scent fills the air. It is coming from inside the bookstore. Nostrils flaring, I move toward the front doors and nudge Dottie and Aggie aside. They move their folding chairs, complaining. Opening one of the doors, the scent grows even stronger, and I turn to the others. “I smell blood?”
“Ohmigawd!” shrieks Aggie. She flings aside the book in her lap. “I bet Stella’s having her babies!”
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CHAPTER 51
DAKOTA
No one goes to sleep early that night. Stella pushes out puppy after puppy, much to Aggie and Rabbit’s delight. By the time she’s done, there are nine of them, like little wriggling sausages curled up against her belly. They vary in color from pale to dark, and Aggie is already busy naming them based on the personalities she thinks they’ll have.
“We’ll call the gray one Prince,” she declares, pulling off her wig and setting it on the styrofoam mannequin head she keeps next to her bed…which also used to be my bed. I haven’t had the heart to kick them out of my cozy set-up. It was easier just to set up another room farther back into the bookstore. She yawns and gives Stella a fond scratch behind the ears. “For Prince Charming, isn’t that right, baby girl?”
Rabbit doesn’t care for that name. “You can’t call it Prince!” she says with a laugh. “What if it’s a girl?”
“Well, then it throws off the entire naming scheme, doesn’t it?”
“What naming scheme?”
“Prince Charming, Snow White, and then the seven dwarves.” She gestures at the row of wriggling puppies. “Unless you can think of another set of nine. I was going to use the names from Friends if there were only six, but she had to go and give us three more.”
“The friends from who?” Rabbit asks.
“You’re too young,” Dottie says, sounding cranky. She’s curled up in her bedding a short distance away, less charmed by the puppies. “And I’m too old. Can we please go to sleep now? I’m exhausted and y’all are making far too much noise.”
Aggie leans in and rubs Stella’s head. “Someone’s not an animal lover like us.”
“I am, but I am also very tired,” Dottie says, and yawns again. “I promise to love them more in the morning.”
She does look exhausted, and Aggie, too. Rabbit might be able to stay up all night, but not the rest of us. “Why don’t we give the new mom some time alone? Let her bond with her babies. We can check on them in the morning.”
I tap on Rabbit’s arm and she gets up, heading to bed. Aggie’s a little harder to convince, but I remind her she can see Stella’s nest in the plastic kiddie pool from her bed. If the dog needs anything, Aggie is right there. Because I’m a helicopter parent, I make sure Aggie’s comfortable and has enough pillows before heading out of her room. I take our candle (really a teacup filled with tallow and a shoelace for a wick) over to Rabbit’s room to check on her. My daughter is in her bed, three cats curled up next to her and another tucked under her arm like a stuffed animal.
“’Night, Mom,” she says, not stirring. “Night, Murr. See y’all in the morning.”
She can’t see Murr from her vantage point, but of course she knew he was two steps behind me. In the last few weeks that have passed, it’s become increasingly obvious that Murr is interested in me in a “more than friends” sort of way. He never grabs me and kisses me in front of the others, but the way he looks at me makes it clear that we’re…something.
I’m not entirely sure what. All we do is kiss and sleep together. Initially, that worked great for me because I don’t need a baby with our future so uncertain, and there’s no birth control available. Kissing suits me just fine.
Mostly.
Except that it never goes beyond kissing, and sometimes I wonder if I’m not giving out the right signals. Or should I even be sending signals? Maybe he thinks hot, buttery kisses are the norm between a man and a woman and I should expect nothing more? How does one even broach that subject? Couldn’t help but notice that while we were tonguing, you didn’t really squeeze my tits or go for anything below the belt. Is that a cultural thing or a me thing?
I’ve been leaving it all alone since we’ve been making preparations for “Just In Case.” In the last month, I’ve been trying to think of everything possible for just in case Curtis comes back. Or just in case the nearby fort sends people to look for solar panels. Or just in case more strangers show up.
Or just in case Murr gets tired of taking care of all of us and leaves one day.
I have to be ready for every situation, because it’s not just me depending on him for, god, far too many things. Aggie and Dottie are vulnerable. Rabbit is vulnerable. We’ve got the cats and now Stella and her jillion puppies to think about. We’ve fallen off on scavenging for food since he makes it so readily available, and I’ve exchanged that for scavenging for supplies to turn our bookstore into a mini fortress. We’ve got weapons inside and barbed wire on the perimeter. We’ve got booby traps set up in a few strategic places. We’ve got dummies in wigs stationed in a few cars just in case it might fool someone.
I want to be ready for anything, because I want to survive. If that means surviving with a broken heart, I want to be able to handle it. So it’s easier, sometimes, not to ask. I head for my new ‘room’ in the bookstore, in the back section where the children’s books are. I blow out the candle and set it down on a nearby table, and when Murr puts his arms around me and kisses my neck, I tell myself not to ask for more.
Maybe it’s a good thing that kisses are all I’ll ever get.
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CHAPTER 52
MURR
The next morning is extremely cold. Even I, who am not usually bothered by the weather here, find it uncomfortable. My limbs in my two-legged form feel the pinch of the chill. I offer to make a fire inside the bookstore for the humans so they can warm themselves in the shelter, but they do not want to burn anything inside. It must be outside, and so windbreaks are propped up around the fire and folding chairs are set closer to the firepit than usual.
“You need pants,” Dakota says as we stand near the fire just outside. She holds her hands out to the flame, warming them as she eyes me. “I don’t like the thought of you catching a chill.”
“Is that something dragons get?” Rabbit asks, curious. She does not have as many layers on as Aggie and Dottie. I do not think they will be spending much time by the fire today. Already the elder females look miserable, and Aggie has mentioned that she wants to spend her time with Stella and the new puppies.
They need warm food for their bellies. “I good.”
“I am good,” Rabbit corrects.
“I am good,” I echo, then make a wing flapping motion. “Dragon soon. Go hunt for meat.”
“Pants would probably just get in the way,” Dakota says thoughtfully.
“He needs stripper pants,” Dottie says. “The ones with the velcro.”
“What are stripper pants?” Rabbit asks, giggling. Her eyes are wide.
I am curious about this, too.
Dottie shrugs and continues moving her sticks and yarn. Nee-ting, I think it is called. She chuckles to herself. “Back in the Before, there were men that took their clothes off for money. The pants they wore had velcro all down the sides and so they’d just reach down and pull, and their clothes would come right off instantly!”
Rabbit squeals with laughter.
“This good,” I say. I am still not entirely certain on the concept of man-ee or whatever vel-cro is, but pants that come off instantly seem logical to me. “I want stripper pants.”
“No,” Dakota says, and her shoulders shake as if she is about to cry. She presses a hand to her mouth. “Maybe we don’t talk about this in front of impressionable ears.”
“Oh, whatever, Mom.” Rabbit rolls her eyes.
“I was referring to Murr,” Dakota says. “And I expect stripper talk to come from Aggie and not you, Dottie.”
“I’m old. I ain’t dead.” Dottie snorts. “I’ve seen some shit.”
“Why am I getting roped into this?” Aggie asks. “I didn’t do anything! I’m just minding my own business.”
I frown as I listen to their banter. There is something I am missing. I have made great strides in picking up their language, but some things still elude me. “What is this ‘stripping’? Why is it bad?”
“It’s not bad,” Dottie says to me. “It’s very, very good—”
“Enough,” Dakota says, interrupting. She frowns at Dottie. “Don’t you have something you could be doing?”
Dottie holds up her knitting. “Doing it.”
Dakota shakes her head and moves towards me. “I’m sure you have questions, but trust me, stripping is nothing to concern yourself over. It was something that happened in the Before, and no one does it anymore.”
“If you like, I can,” I offer.
Aggie snickers.
“Very sweet of you to offer, but no.” Dakota shoots Aggie a hard look over her shoulder. She puts her hands on my arms and frowns. “And you are cold. Let me get you a blanket.”
She is changing the subject and bustles inside the bookstore. I am suddenly frustrated that something else has happened and it is not being told to me. I look over at Rabbit, but she has gone silent, and her expression is impossible to read. Her lips are pursed in the way I have learned that means she is not happy. Perhaps she wants to know more about stripping and these convenient pants, too.
Rabbit hops to her feet. “I’m going to go check on the ferals in the other building. Make sure they’re warm. Murr, you want to come with me? They like you more than me.”
I nod. She has a good heart and wants to make sure all the cats are comfortable. “I go with you.”
She cups a hand to her mouth. “Mom, we’re going to check on the ferals! We’ll be back soon!”
“But Murr needs something warm to wear,” Dakota calls back, worried. I hear her footsteps racing as she moves to the doorway and she opens the door again to frown at us. “Just wait—”
“He can go dragon and stay warm. Come on, Murr.” Rabbit sticks her hands in her pockets and heads across the parking lot, abandoning the campfire. I glance at Dakota. She does not seem upset at this new turn and shrugs. I follow after Rabbit, shifting to my battle-form the moment I am clear from the bookstore’s overhang.
It is much warmer in this form, the cold air unable to penetrate the hardened scales that cover my body. It would be easier to fly the short distance over to the other building, but Rabbit is walking, and so I follow after her, stepping over cars and trailing a few paces behind. She’s silent all the way over to the other side of the big flat area called a parking lot.
When we get to the other building, the one with the ferals and the hay inside, Rabbit opens the door and looks at me. “Change and get in here, Murr. You and I need to talk.”
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