Текст книги "The Dragon's Favorite Strays"
Автор книги: Ruby Dixon
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 26 страниц)
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CHAPTER 20
DAKOTA
My heart is fluttering hard as I finish off the lesson and decide to find other things to do. I’m flustered, thoughts racing, as I get up with a burning need to suddenly rake the ash out of our firepit. “So busy,” I say to no one at all. “So very busy.”
I can’t stop thinking about kissing.
Specifically, about kissing Murr. Like, that shouldn’t even be on the list of things in my mind, and yet my brain keeps circling back to it, over and over again, like an itch that just can’t be scratched.
I should not want to kiss a dragon. Ten years of a world-ending apocalypse has taught me that dragons are the enemy. Dragons are bad. I’ve seen people burned alive by dragonfire. I’ve seen dragons snap up people and eat them like they’re chicken nuggets. Dragons have been terrifying creatures ever since they came through the Rift, and they’ve destroyed everything in their path.
Doesn’t matter that things have been quiet for the last six months. Doesn’t mean things won’t go back to shit again very soon.
Just because Murr has been nice and kind to us doesn’t mean he deserves to be kissed. Him being curious about kisses doesn’t mean he deserves to be kissed. The fact that his features in his human form are strikingly attractive doesn’t mean I need to put my lips on them.
I need to remember how bad things have been in the past. They’re good now, but that can change all too quickly. I need to somehow communicate to him that kisses are things that only happen between two consenting adult partners. If I kiss him, is he going to think it’s okay to kiss Rabbit next?
Because absolutely fucking not. I will put a crossbow bolt in his big dangly dick if he even tries something like that, red meat or no red meat.
It’s just best that kisses don’t happen at all, I tell myself. It’s safest for all parties.
I’m not going to think about how hard he stared at my mouth, his lips parted, as if he wanted to see what I felt like. I’m not going to think about how it’s been over seven years since I’ve had sex. I have a toy hidden in the depths of my bag if I get lonely enough, and surviving takes precedence over horniness more often than not.
The apocalypse has taught me that I don’t need a man. That they just complicate things.
I sure don’t need a dragon.
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CHAPTER 21
DAKOTA
The next day’s weather dictates our actions. It’s rainy outside and cold, a sign that the weather’s changing. There are leaves littering the parking lot outside, and I’m dreading the winter. Texas winters are always mild compared to a lot of states, but they still get colder than I’d like, and it makes survival that much harder every day.
Luckily for us, we have a nice building to shelter inside. Even if we can’t make a fire indoors—and won’t, because I don’t want to risk it—being out of the wind and elements makes the chill tolerable. I put on my thickest sweater over my clothing and double up my socks. Rabbit is still wrapped in her blankets, sitting next to an open space on the floor near one of the windows. She’s working on a puzzle she found near the back of the store, and one of the cats is in her lap. One of the black cats has attached itself to her and goes with her everywhere, and it both warms my heart and scares me. If we have to leave the cat behind, she’ll be devastated.
But that’s a problem for the future, I chide myself. I can think about it tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll figure out what we can plant in pots that will grow in the winter. We’ll scavenge the nearby areas to see if there’s anything left behind. Today, though, we can be a bit lazy. There’s dried meat from yesterday, and I’ve got a can of black-eyed peas I’ve been saving for a special occasion. We’ve got food.
I pull a gardening book into my lap and light a candle nearby. The moment I do, the door opens and Murr strolls inside. He’s got a cat on his shoulders, one under his arm, and two more trotting at his side like he’s the Pied Piper of felines. Murr’s expression brightens when he sees me, and he saunters over, flashing his teeth in that still-slightly-unnatural grin of his.
“Good morning,” I say, sitting up and extinguishing the candle immediately. If I’m not reading, I need to save it for future use.
“Dakotah.” He thumps down into a crouch, setting down one cat and then letting the big one on his shoulders climb down his arm. One cat comes to me, and another rubs against his leg. Murr immediately makes a “speak” gesture with his hand to his mouth, indicating that he wants to learn more words. “Yes?”
I nod. “Yes. We can do more lessons.” Just not about kisses. Not getting anywhere near kisses.
The gardening book offers some safe photos, so I point at the obvious objects that will apply to our daily life. He won’t give two shits about weeds or fertilizer, but the words sun and tree and flower are universal enough.
He points at an elderly woman gardening in one picture. “Dakotah?”
Jeez. That woman’s at least seventy if she’s a day, complete with gray hair and a floral grandma gardening scarf on her head. “Woman. Not Dakotah.”
“Wommn,” he echoes, studying the picture. He flips through the book to another page, his clawed fingertips cumbersome for finer movements, and finds another photo. This one is of a younger woman spreading mulch. He points at her. “Wommn not Dakotah?”
I nod. “Woman.” Flip back to the prior page to the older woman. “Woman.” I point at myself. “Woman.” Point at the first picture again, then the second. “Not Dakota, not Dakota.” Point back to myself. “Dakota.”
He considers this, then asks, “Ribbit no wommn?”
How do I answer that? She’s female, true, but is she a grown woman at the age of fourteen? The mother in me who’s raised her for the last eight years says absolutely fucking not. It was only yesterday that she was my little baby with pigtails and gap teeth. But how to give nuance to something like age when our words are so limited? “Dakotah woman, Rabbit girl,” I decide on. “Girl.”
Now to find a book with a young girl on it so I can show him the difference between the two.
Murr digests this information, then says, “Dakotah kith Ribbit.”
Did I? I’m sure I did. “Yes.”
I’m also pretty sure I know where this conversation is going.
“Dakotah kith…Murr?”
Yup, there it is. “No. Kith is special. I mean, kiss. You don’t kiss people just because they ask nicely.” Or because they have a pretty mouth. Or anything like that. “Kisses have meaning.”
“Meeng,” Murr says, and then gestures I should repeat myself. It’s clear he’s not following. His gaze is on my lips again, as if he wants to understand…or maybe he just wants to know what it feels like. It’s probably just curiosity, right? A human custom he doesn’t quite understand, since he doesn’t really seem to grasp our language, or smiling, either. When he laughs, his body shakes with amusement, but most of the time, no sound comes out. It’s like he’s having to learn so many things brand new, which is baffling.
But if that’s the case, then it would make sense that he’s curious about a kiss, right? I’m sure I’m reading too much into it.
I try to explain to him (using a cat that wanders past with her kitten as an example) that Rabbit is my kitten, more or less, and that mothers kiss their babies. As if to prove my point, the cat immediately sits down and starts to groom her kitten, washing the little face with her tongue.
The light clicks on for Murr. He lifts his hand and licks the back of it, then gestures at me. “Dakotah Rabbit?”
Was I grooming her? With a kiss?
Okay, maybe the light didn’t click on after all. “Not exactly.” I drum my fingers on my mouth, thinking. I’m just making this worse. “Maybe—”
There’s a metallic crash outside.
Murr’s smooth golden eyes immediately shift to pitch black, and he tenses.
Oh shit.
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CHAPTER 22
DAKOTA
I’m not sure what to be more afraid of—the dangerous black eyes of the dragon-man sitting in front of me, or the noise outside that tells me the nomad has returned. I knew it was just a matter of time.
Murr surges to his feet.
I jump to mine, too. “No! Don’t attack!”
I appreciate his protectiveness, but I’ve learned through experience that the best confrontation is no confrontation at all. Someone could get hurt. Our home could get destroyed. He could be coming back to apologize.
The latter seems unlikely, but I don’t want to take chances. Plus, what’s to stop Murr from losing his mind and attacking us afterward?
I put a hand on his chest and shake my head. “Don’t change. Don’t attack. Just…let’s not do anything.”
“Mom?” Rabbit’s voice is nervous, and my daughter comes racing over, her sleeping bag still wrapped around her. She’s wearing her fuzzy bunny slippers she loves so much, and her black cat trails after her. “I think I heard something outside—”
“I know,” I say quickly, putting on a smile. “Go hide and I’ll check it out. It’ll be fine. Take your weapon just in case.”
She looks at Murr, uncertain. “His eyes went dark…”
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I’ll keep him under control.”
I hope.
Rabbit nods and drops her sleeping bag, then rushes in to hug me. I hold her close and press a quick kiss to the top of her head—she’s still shorter than me, thank goodness—and then she scoops up her cat and goes racing off to the bathroom at the back of the store, our designated “panic room.” I’m tempted to follow her, just to hover and make sure that she’s safe, but I need to keep an eye on Murr.
I keep my hand on Murr’s chest, watching his coal-black eyes and hoping that they’ll swirl back to a better mood color. They turn black when he’s agitated, and it’s terrifying to see. “Calm down,” I say, voice even. “Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was deer. We don’t know—”
There’s another metallic crash, and then the front door shakes.
My heart leaps into my throat.
Murr growls and surges forward, and I grab him again before he can go. “No,” I whisper. I’ve seen what happens when dragons lose their shit. Entire cities burn down. I have to think of a way to get him to stay calm and stay with me. “I’ll kiss you if you stay here,” I blurt out. “Dakota kiss Murr.”
His eyes swirl orange, his gaze going to my face.
“Come on,” I say, and take his hand in mine, pulling him to the back of the store. I want to see what these intruders are up to. If someone’s just looking for a few books to snag, they’re welcome to them. If it’s that horrible nomad, maybe he’ll think we’re gone if he comes in and sees no one.
We can’t attack until we know what we’re dealing with.
I’m relieved that Murr lets me pull him along, and I race through the big, book-strewn store to a small back broom closet. It’s down the hall from the bathroom, but I don’t want to be in the same room as Rabbit, because if someone heads in this direction, I’ll sacrifice myself and jump out to keep her safe and hidden. But until then, I’m going to hide.
Pushing aside mops and a big wheeled bucket, I squeeze into the cleaning room with Murr at my side, and then I shut the door enough that there’s only a tiny crack of light being let in. I want to spy on them before they know I’m nearby.
Murr pushes toward the door, trying to nudge me out of the way.
I stand between him and the doorway, my back to him. I grab his hand and link it with mine, lacing our fingers together. I rest our hands on my stomach, like we’re a couple at prom, just because it’ll keep him close and I’ll know if he tries to leave or change forms. One crisis at a time, I remind myself, and focus on that tiny sliver of light coming through the doorway.
Murr’s body presses up against mine, and then I feel him sniffing my hair. I’m suddenly acutely aware that I’ve shoved a big naked man into a tiny closet with me.
And I’m holding his hand.
And he’s made it clear he wants to kiss me.
And I did say I’d kiss him back.
I rub my thumb over his hand, my breathing speeding up. He rubs his mouth against my hair, and his warmth is flooding the small space with heat. His arm tightens around me, as if he’s pulling me closer. “Dakotah,” he murmurs in that strange, tricky way of his, like words are so hard and yet he’s trying just for me. “Dakotah.”
“It’s going to be okay,” I whisper. “I promise.”
I turn my head, and then his nose is against my temple. He’s big. I mean, I knew he was big, but being pressed up against a very large man is different than just acknowledging that he’s tall. It’s not just his height, it’s the way he takes up space, too. Murr’s big presence threatens to swallow up the entire room and me with it.
How long has it been since I was close to a man who was interested in me?
Why does this make me feel so vulnerable and yet protected? Safe?
There’s another crash from inside, and someone swears.
I freeze, because…that doesn’t sound like the man that was here yesterday. It sounds like…a woman.
“Now you’ve done it, Aggie,” says a raspy voice. “You’re making enough noise to raise the dead. Why not just get a trumpet and blow it and let everyone know we’re here?”
“Oh, you hush up, Dottie.” A second voice, more wobbly and faint, joins in. “I can’t help it if there’s junk all over the damned floor.”
“It’s an apocalypse. Of course there’s going to be junk on the floor.” The sound of another pile of books crashing to the ground makes me wince. There’s a pause, and then the first voice says, “Okay, that one’s on me.”
“Quit bitching and help me find some crosswords.”
A book hits the ground somewhere outside. “You like sudoku?”
“Do I look like I enjoy math? Does anyone enjoy math?”
I don’t know whether to laugh or be alarmed at the argument happening a short distance away.
We’re being robbed by…old ladies?
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CHAPTER 23
DAKOTA
If they didn’t have guns, I’d go out and introduce myself.
As it is, I’m trapped in a closet with a big, naked golden man who’s growling. Not an ideal situation. My daughter is hiding in the old bathroom, which adds to my tension. I want to protect her, but I can’t if I get shot. I don’t know how trigger happy these women might be. I don’t know what to do.
Murr growls again, and in the direction of the bathrooms, something crashes. My heart skips a beat.
“Who’s there?” one of the ladies calls out.
My instincts to protect my daughter go into overdrive and I race out the door, shutting it behind me quickly and holding the doorknob so Murr can’t get out after me. “I am,” I call out. “I live here. I’m not armed!”
The door rattles behind me. I keep holding the doorknob.
A shotgun barrel comes into view, and an older woman with a terrible wig on her head appears a moment later, holding the other end of the gun. Her face is lined and she’s maybe five feet tall, a hundred pounds soaking wet. Huge glasses dominate her face and she glares at me, taking another step forward with the gun. “Who are you?”
“I live here,” I say again. “My name is Dakota.”
“Why are you hiding back here?” she asks suspiciously.
“Because you have guns?” Now if Rabbit could just stay put, that would be perfect.
The door behind me rattles again. The woman’s eyes narrow behind the magnified lenses and she scowls at me. “What’s in there?”
I think for a moment, trying to come up with a plausible answer, and then go with the truth. “Big naked man?”
Her mouth quirks and her gun dips a little. “He good looking?”
“Aggie!” barks the other voice. “That ain’t important right now!”
“It could be!” the woman, Aggie, calls back over her shoulder. “Been a while since I’ve looked at a pretty man.”
“We’re not here for men. We’re here for crosswords.” There’s a shuffling of feet and then a second woman comes around the corner, into sight. She’s carrying the biggest assault rifle I’ve ever seen in my life, the strap slung over her shoulder. She’s about the same height as the first woman, her hair a snow-white cap of short, tight curls, and her dark skin is unlined despite her age. She scowls in my direction. “You should have said something when we came in instead of acting all suspicious.”
“Again, you have guns,” I remind them, unable to take my eyes off that enormous assault rifle. “Really big ones.”
The women look unfazed. “Course we do. It’s the After. Guns are how you stay safe.” The second woman pats her rifle and then gives me another suspicious look. “Why aren’t you and your man in a fort?”
I think for a moment as the door rattles behind me. Murr growls louder. “Dakotah!”
The guns lift. Shit. I put my free hand up. “He’s not really my man.”
“But you said he’s got his pecker out,” the one in the bad wig—Aggie—reminds me.
The second woman takes a step toward me, her expression uneasy. “You in danger? Do you need rescuing?”
Aggie’s eyes light up behind her glasses. She lifts her gun. “Do you need us to shoot him?”
“Let’s not shoot anyone!” I say nervously. They seem a little strange, but the offer to rescue me makes me trust them a bit more. “Maybe we start over. Hi, I’m Dakota, and I live here. My teenage daughter is currently hiding because, again, you guys have guns. And the guy in the closet is a…friend that lives across the parking lot. He’s naked because…”
Aggie leans in to hear the answer, eyes wide.
“He’s a bit of a nudist,” I lie.
“Bad nudist or good nudist?” Aggie wants to know, then gestures at the door. “I don’t mind judging for myself—”
“Aggie!” the other woman chides. She eyes me. “Anyone else we need to know about? And you’re sure you’re not in danger?” Her voice drops very low for the last part, so low that only I can hear it.
The door behind me rattles again, and Murr makes a frustrated sound. I decide to amend my statement, because it’s clear they’re not going anywhere anytime soon. “He’s, uh, a dragon. A dragon-man, that is. A dragon in man-form, but still a dragon.”
They exchange a look.
Aggie speaks up first. “Is he trying to eat you? Are you safe?”
“Very safe! He’s quite friendly, I assure you, despite all the noise he’s making.” I continue to hold the door handle. “He’s probably just nervous thinking that you’re both a threat.”
“And…he’s naked?”
“Quite naked.”
Aggie’s brows go up. “Can…I see his pecker?”
“Aggie!” The other woman is scandalized. “What do you want with a dragon pecker?”
“I don’t want anything with it! I just want to see if it’s normal. That’s all. Can’t a lady be curious?” Aggie pushes her heavy glasses up her nose. “I mean, he’s already naked.”
“He’s a dragon. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t eat us,” the other woman chides.
She’s got a point. Not that I think Murr would be dangerous to them, but dragons in the past have been…volatile. “Just don’t touch any of the cats around here and I think you’ll be all right. He thinks of them as his.”
The older women nod. Aggie nudges her gun at the door. “We can do that. Bring him out.”
I close my eyes, questioning my sanity for a hot moment. At least Rabbit knows enough to stay hidden for now, just in case all of this goes south. Taking a deep breath, I turn the doorknob I’ve been holding in place and open the door. Murr slinks out the moment it’s open a crack, still in his human form. Smoke floats out of his nostrils and he looks peeved as he sees the two old ladies.
Then, he moves to my side, puts a possessive arm around my shoulders, and draws me back against him with a growl.
Aggie titters, looking him up and down. The other woman just gives me a knowing look. “Seems like the cats aren’t the only things he thinks are his.”
She might not be wrong.
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CHAPTER 24
MURR
It seems we are collecting more human strays.
These two have arrived upon my doorstep, with strange scents and loud voices. They have the drying scent of old age despite their strange trappings, and wave two sticks around as Dakotah talks to them. Ribbit still hides away, and I can smell her unease. I remain alert and wary, ready to attack. Dakotah has a calm demeanor, but a mother protecting her nest can be deadly. If she needs my assistance, I will give it readily.
But then Dakotah calls out and Ribbit emerges, all timid smiles. The older females put their sticks away and coo over her, and all the scents change from anxious to happy. It reminds me of when there is a new cat that arrives and begins to lurk around the others. The existing colony is uncertain until the newcomer settles in and allows the others to sniff under its tail.
So far there is no tail sniffing but perhaps that will come later.
They all babble and flash their teeth, making the mouth noises so quick I cannot follow. I watch Dakotah’s mouth, looking for familiar movements. She turns to me, as if realizing, and then moves to my side and puts her hand on my arm. “Murr,” she tells the group, “S’murr—” and then launches into another bout of words, so fast I cannot follow. She gestures at her daughter. “S’Rabbit.”
The newcomers peer up at me. One pushes something on her nose, strange circles over her eyes that make them seem bigger. The other one with the short white mane and dark skin touches her chest. “Doh-dee.”
The big-eyes one points at herself and bellows very loudly. “AH-GEE. AH-GEE.”
The other females make faces at her, exclaiming and babbling. “Snotdeff,” Doh-dee says, and Ah-gee mutters something in a reply.
Ribbit steps in front of me as if she’s protecting me. “Friend,” she tells them. It’s a word that I have learned recently. Friend means a companion, like my cats. Someone you enjoy.
It makes me feel warm inside. We are skipping the tail sniffing, it seems. “Fren,” I agree, though my mouth does not form around the sound as well as theirs. “Ah-gee, Doh-dee, Dakotah, Ribbit, fren.”
Ah-gee titters, her hand going to her mouth. “BIG fren.”
All the females make scolding sounds at Ah-gee, who just cackles even more. She points at me with delight, making more sounds, but I miss all of her words. She speaks differently than Dakotah and Ribbit, who say their noises slowly and deliberately so I can follow. Ah-gee wiggles a finger and says something else and Ribbit buries her face in her hands. Dakotah will not look me in the eye.
“No?” I say, indicating I did not follow their words. I shake my head.
Ribbit brightens and turns to look at me. “Murr, food? Meat?” She makes an eating motion with her hand. “Meat for Ah-gee, Doh-dee?”
This I can follow. She wants me to feed them like I do all my strays. This is an easy enough task, and one that gives me pleasure. I bare my teeth at them to let them know I am pleased, and Ah-gee stops in her cackling. Doh-dee makes a concerned sound, reaching for her stick again.
The fear-scent returns, and I wonder what I have done wrong.
“Murr friend,” Dakotah says firmly. Her tone indicates that if they do not like it, they do not have to be part of our family. I am filled with a rush of affection for Dakotah, because like Ribbit, she is protecting me in her way. She will not have anyone be scared of me.
Her reassurance pleases me so much that I pull her closer and nuzzle her hair affectionately. She stands stiff against me, her heart beating fast, and I rub my nose against her mane to drink in her scent and to show the others how much she means to me. “Meat,” I reply, “Murr meat.”
“BIG meat,” Ah-gee whispers, and Doh-dee nudges her shoulder.
“Big meat,” I agree. If they want a large amount of food, I will bring these females a feast.
I drop three cattle—one for my cats, and two for my humans—before shifting back to my human form and returning. Dakotah has started a tiny fire as she likes to do, and Ribbit is chopping up bits of meat for the cats. They crawl all over her, meowing with excitement. Doh-dee and Ah-gee sit by the fire, perplexed expressions on their faces as they watch the proceedings.
Do they not understand the food is for them? I stride forward and rip a haunch from one of the dead cattle, then hold it out to the seated elders. “Big Meat.”
“Ohmigawd,” mutters Doh-dee.
The sound of excitement! “Ohmigawd,” I agree happily. “Yes ohmigawd.”
Dakotah moves in, touching my arm and trying to lower it. “Dankyoo, Murr,” she tells me. I recognize “dankyoo” as a praise word she makes when she is happy. She beams up at me and pats my arm again. “Cook meat.” Points at her small flame. “Fire.”
I nod again and do as she has shown me. She likes the meat shoved through a metal stake and spit over the fire so it can roast in the smoke and heat steadily instead of directly in the coals. I do this for her and once I am done, she grabs my hand and pulls me away from the fire and the other females. Curious, I let her, wondering what is happening. Humans have such different customs that sometimes they confuse me. She has not indicated that she is unhappy with me, or that she wishes to mate, so I am not certain why we are leaving.
After a moment, she produces a long length of cloth and holds it up. “Fr mi?”
“Fr mi?” I echo, touching the cloth.
She shakes her head, indicating she does not have the proper sounds to describe it yet, and reaches around my waist. As I stand still, she puts the fabric about my hips and knots it, wrapping my groin and covering me from abdomen to thigh. She says a few words, and I catch “Ah-gee” and “Doh-dee” and “no,” but the rest of it is lost.
It’s all right. I know what this is, and I throw my shoulders back with pride.
Dakotah does not wish for the other females to look upon my cock. She wants to keep my body for herself. She is declaring her intent to claim me. I have seen female cats chase away other females that get too close to the male they are fond of, and surely this is more of the same.
I could not be more pleased.
I wonder if this means she will kith me now. I lean in close, eyeing her face, waiting for her lips to distend towards mine.
They do not.
Her pulse races. Dakotah gets skittish, muttering something under her breath that’s too quick for me to follow. Her gaze flicks over my face, her cheeks reddening.
Then she gestures over her shoulder, indicating that she is going to rejoin the other females.
No kith, then. I wonder why not.
I follow after her as she returns to sit near the fire. The wrap around my hips constrains my movements, but not enough to be a bother. I’m rather proud of the wrap, given that she put it on me deliberately. It means she’s claiming me.
The others notice this, too. Ribbit makes an excited sound and points at me. “S’werringpantz!”
Indeed. I have been marked by my female. I pat the fabric around my hips proudly, letting them know that she has made her designs on me clear for all to see. “Murr Dakotah yes.”
Dakotah just groans as if in pain.
Ah-gee titters again.
I sit next to my Dakotah by the fire, hands on knees, and I could not hold my shoulders any higher if I tried.
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