Текст книги "The Dragon's Favorite Strays"
Автор книги: Ruby Dixon
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CHAPTER 29
MURR
I rub my cheek, startled. Dakotah just gave me a kith.
It was on the side of the face, just like she gave Ribbit, and not on the mouth with extended lips like I have seen in some of the pictures. She has fulfilled our bargain, and I feel a twinge of guilt because I have made the kith out to be something impressive and it was…
Uninspiring. Brief and uninspiring.
I appreciate that she felt the need to honor her vow, so this disappointment is all on me. I touch my cheek again, and as I do, I think about how soft her lips were against my skin. The softness is the thought that lingers. Perhaps it feels very different when it is mouth on mouth.
Perhaps it feels different when it is my lips on her face.
I turn to look at her hopefully, wondering if I can lean over and push my lips to her face. But Dakotah is turned away, watching Ribbit sleep, so I abandon the idea. One of my cats arrives and kneads his claws in my thigh, purring. I scoop him up to pet him instead, and watch Dakotah out of the corner of my eye. She looks weary. Tired. Worried. Her hand moves to her strange instrument on her other side, over and over again, stroking it like I stroke the cat in my arms.
Eventually Ribbit sits up with a yawn and a cat crawls out from under the blankets with her. They both stretch, amusing in their shared movements. Ribbit smiles at her mother, then at me. Then, she leans in close, her voice dropping.
“Ahgee n Doh-dee stilleer?”
“Stilleer,” Dakotah murmurs. She gets to her feet, wincing as she stretches the kinks out of her body, and says more soft words to Ribbit. They are discussing something, sharing whispers back and forth that are too quick for me to follow. I catch the names of the two elder females more than once, and I suspect they are trying to determine what to do with them. Ribbit gestures at me, but it is not an indication for me to join the conversation, I think.
Ribbit eventually puts her hands on her hips. “Yr so supicshs, Mom.”
“I no.” Dakotah shrugs. “Gitressed.”
Then, Dakotah taps my arm and indicates I should get up and follow her out. I set down the cat in my lap and get to my feet. As I do, my loin wrap falls to the floor. I pick it up again, putting it around my hips once more and making sure that Dakotah sees that I yet cover myself to appease her jealousy of the other females. Is she not pleased that I keep myself only for her?
But my female gives me an absent-minded smile, takes my arm, and leads me out of the room.
We head outside, and my cats come running to greet me. I pause to pet and hug each one to let them know I appreciate their affection and check them over. A few need their eyes cleaned again, and I make a mental note so I can show Dakotah later. She moves to the firepit and begins to put sticks in the bottom, building up a pile so she can make the day’s fire. I slide the cat in my arms onto my shoulders and pick up the one rubbing against my legs and move to join her.
I wait for Dakotah to ask me to help her with fire, but she does not. Perhaps she has forgotten? I pull one of the sticks out of the pit and blow a puff on the end, setting it alight, and then hand it back to her. She looks startled, and then sheepish, and puts it in the pile of woodstuffs. “Dankyew.”
She looks so chagrined that I wish I had the words to tell her that it is not a problem. That I want to help her with the tasks she has around the home. That I enjoy assisting her and making her day easier.
But her cheek is turned to me, and I impulsively lean in and press my lips to it.
Her cheek is as soft as her lips.
Dakotah goes still. Her eyes go wide and she looks to me as I pull back, watching her reaction. She gazes up at me, her eyes the same warm blue color that does not tell me if she is happy or sad. They never change colors to indicate to me how she is feeling, and yet her gaze goes to my lips and lingers there—
“Mom?” Ribbit’s voice interrupts.
Dakotah jerks away, startled and skittering backward. She gives a high, nervous laugh and approaches her daughter. I see Ah-gee and Doh-dee standing near Ribbit. Ah-gee has the strange fur atop her head again, and both of them carry their sticks at their sides. My female puts her arms around her daughter and begins to talk in a quick, wild way, gesturing at me, the fire, and then the distance.
The other females chime in. There is a lot of back and forth between all four of them. Doh-dee nods and holds her hand out to Dakotah. They clasp hands and then Ribbit clasps Doh-dee’s hand as well. Ah-gee flings her arms around them both, the fur on her head askew.
Then, they all look at me.
I search my limited vocabulary of sounds for a word to use to communicate with them. Seeing them all jabbering together makes me feel strangely isolated all over again. It is good for them to have each other, but I wish I was included. I say the only thing I can think of. “Meat?”
Ah-gee guffaws.
Dakotah shoots her an annoyed look. She steps forward and moves to my side. “Wok,” she says, and then moves two of her fingers in a downward wiggling motion. “We wok. Journee.”
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CHAPTER 30
MURR
After much hand-gesturing, I learn that the finger-waving means going on a journey. Learning their strange sounds are bad enough. Now I must learn hand signals too? Just when I think I am catching on to their strange language, they change it on me. I try not to show Dakotah how defeated the finger-wiggling makes me.
How am I ever going to learn to speak properly to them when all my ways to talk have been stolen away? Again, I push my thoughts at Dakotah, determined to break through whatever is preventing me from hearing the others around me. There is nothing but silence, and I end up giving myself a headache.
Whatever has changed, whatever set my mind back to itself has also stolen away my ability to communicate.
I’m starting to think I’d rather be insane.
The females do not notice my morose mood. They put their packs on their backs and chatter over each other. The two elderly ones—Ah-gee and Doh-dee—take the lead. Dakotah follows behind them, listening attentively to their conversation as they seemingly argue with each other. She carries a stick weapon of her own, the end studded with bits of metal, and holds it as she walks. I notice that she does not seem easy as she moves. Her gaze is locked on the two elderly females, as if she does not entirely trust them.
Perhaps later I should ask Dakotah if she needs them killed. Not all who smile are friendly.
Perhaps this is another reason she asks me to wear the loin wrap. Does she think to protect me from them in some way? Am I misunderstanding that she wishes to keep my male glory for herself?
If so, this is another disappointment.
Ribbit follows after the group, and the protector in me cannot let all my strays go off on their own. They are more vulnerable than a kitten wandering away from its mother. At least kittens are fast and know to duck into small places at the first sign of danger. My humans are not. They need me.
We travel over the ugly landscape with Ah-gee and Doh-dee talking constantly the entire time, scaring away any game that might be nearby. My ears prick at the sound of distant hooves—deer that were scared away by Ah-gee’s loud sounds. I lift my head and scent the breeze, looking to pick up anything else that might be in this area.
A male’s scent is here. Old and stale, but I recognize it. It is the same male that I scented back near Dakotah’s nest. It makes my hackles rise, and I skirt around the area, following the scent trail while the females converge on an old human-sized metal box and pry it open. After a few paces, I relax a bit. The scent heads away from our camp. My females are protected…for now.
This must have been where the older two females were staying before they met us. They pull soft things out of the metal box and begin to fold them up. Dakotah puts some of them in her pack while Ah-gee and Doh-dee continue to argue.
Ribbit comes to my side, her expression curious. “U ok Murr?”
I nod, her words slow enough that I can follow them, which I appreciate. I point at the metal box. “Caah?”
“Yes!” Ribbit seems happy to talk with me. “U want more words?” She gestures at her mouth. “More talk?”
I nod. More hand signals. I hope I have not been missing a hand language this entire time. “Ribbit words yes.”
She beams and squats down nearby, her hands flattening on a round dark object. “Tire.”
“Tiaah.” It is a hard sound to wrap my mouth around.
She points at more things, and when I know the word, I say it. I have words for tree, and cloud, and building, and she is pleased at my progress. Her fingers go to her face and she puts them at the corners of her mouth, lifting them up.
“Kith,” I announce, even though I know the word for this lip-stretching.
“What?” Dakotah’s voice raises high and she turns to stare at me and her daughter, horror on her face.
“No, silly,” Ribbit giggles, delighted at my response. “SMILE.”
“Smiiih,” I try, glancing over at her mother. “No kith.”
Ribbit just gives me a sly look. “Murr kith Dakota cheek.”
Good, she wants to know more about why I put my lips on her mother, too. This is a topic I wish to discuss as well.
Dakotah calls out sharply, storming over to her daughter’s side. “Rabbit!”
“Yes kith,” I agree and pat my jaw. “Kith face.”
“Mouth kiss better,” she continues. “Murr should kiss Mom on the mouth. Big happy.”
I put my hands on my hips, trying to decipher what Ribbit’s goal is. Dakotah is watching us, her expression one of mortification, not excitement. She does not want my mouth kith. There is something I am missing here. I lean in so only Ribbit can hear me. “Mouth kith…bad?”
Ribbit puts her hands in the air. “Immalet Mom hannel dis un.”
Dakotah just crosses her arms and scowls at the two of us.
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CHAPTER 31
DAKOTA
My sweet daughter is selling me out. Here I am, trying to help Aggie and Dottie move their gear to our home, and she’s trying to distract me. All day I’ve been watching the two women, looking for clues that they might be misleading us, or telling half-truths to hide something. I haven’t been paying much attention to Murr because I’m fuzzy with lack of sleep and getting a headache from Aggie’s voice. She has two volumes—loud and really damn loud.
How am I supposed to focus on those two women when Rabbit is bringing up kissing? Now everyone’s staring at me, expectation in their eyes, as if I should fling my arms around Murr’s neck and just plant my mouth to his to satisfy their curiosity.
The worst thing about it? Now I’m imagining what would happen if I did. How would he react? Does he know what kisses lead to, or is he just the most intimidating clueless virgin left on the planet? He’s naked more often than he’s not, and while he’s not been walking around with his cock erect, what if kisses lead to that?
What if I’m in the process of scarring my poor daughter for life?
“Kissing is no one’s business,” I say sharply. “Let’s just pack this stuff and go.”
Rabbit ignores my tone. She skips over to me. “He kissed you on the cheek earlier, Mom. We all saw it. I think he thinks you guys are together.” Judging by the eagerness on her face, she loves this idea, probably because it involves a belly full of red meat and all the cats she can cuddle for the rest of her days.
She doesn’t see how very thorny the situation can be.
“I think this is a fantastic love story,” says Aggie. Dottie says nothing, but she looks as unsure as I feel.
I shake my head. “He’s just learning the language from me. Nothing else.”
“Uh huh,” says Aggie. I glance at Dottie and Rabbit, and it doesn’t seem as if anyone believes my answer.
“We’re packing,” I say determinedly, “not grilling me about my private life.”
“So you admit there’s a private life?” Dottie chimes in.
There’s a pillow in my hands, and right now I want to put it over someone’s face and smother them with it. “Stop it already.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Rabbit says. “We all know Murr likes you. It’s sweet.”
“It’s sweet right now, but I can’t forget that he’s a dragon. I’m not sure if it’s safe for him to be around all the time.”
This elicits a response from Aggie and Dottie both. Dottie gestures at him. “He’s a dragon! This is the safest place to be.”
“Yes, well, what if he asks for more than just a kiss?”
“Who’s he asking?” Aggie counters. “I’d say yes.”
Dottie snorts and nudges her buddy. “Thanks for that mental image, Aggie. No one thinks he’s gonna be asking you.”
“Just volunteering,” Aggie replies cheerfully.
I’m torn between laughing at their banter and wanting to shake them for not seeing how serious this is. Rabbit’s watching me carefully and I shake my head. “I’m not saying that Murr is a bad guy, but kisses can lead to other expectations. Powerful men in charge that give their protection in exchange for a woman’s body doesn’t make things safe for us.”
Dottie looks chagrined. “You have a very good point.”
Rabbit moves to my side, touching my arm. She looks almost offended I would say such a thing. “Murr is a good guy. He’s different from the others. You know he wouldn’t do that, Mom.”
I want to believe her. I do. But I’ve seen how much “good guys” change their tune once they get a bit of power. “We need to get to know him better. That’s all.”
“Then we’ll keep teaching him words.” My daughter is determined. “And he can tell us exactly what he thinks of everything.”
That’s the hope.
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CHAPTER 32
DAKOTA
As we tie pillows onto my backpack, there’s a rustle in the bushes. I look up just in time to see a trio of deer bounding away.
Aggie immediately points at them. “Look, Murr! Big meat!”
It’s like he’s been waiting for this moment. With a growl low in his throat, Murr flings himself bodily into the air. A split second later, he’s switched to his dragon form and pushes off the hood of a nearby car with massive claws. He’s in the air and chasing after the deer before I even have time to breathe.
We all stare up at the big golden dragon in the sky, and Aggie laughs with delight. “Well damn, that’s impressive.”
Dottie just huffs, the sound one of amusement as she folds an old sweatshirt. “You just wanted to see him drop his kilt again.”
Oh dear. I don’t know whether to laugh or be alarmed at how randy Aggie is. My grandmother was never like this, and I suspect Rabbit’s wasn’t either. Aggie seems to be her own person for sure.
“Are we taking this?” Rabbit asks, holding up a styrofoam mannequin head. Atop it is a long wig with flowing blonde curls.
“That one is Shakira,” Aggie says. “We don’t leave her behind. She’s for when I’m feeling frisky.”
“When are you not feeling frisky?” Dottie retorts. “And we don’t need Shakira. You haven’t worn her once.”
“But I like the thought of wearing her,” Aggie says. “You never know.”
“I know.”
There’s a lot more crap in the van than I’d expected. The women made it sound as if they were staying there temporarily, but there’s more blankets and pillows and clothing (and wigs) than can fit in our backpacks. I’m contemplating how we’re going to take it all back with us. “I’m not sure this is all going to make it in one trip,” I say. “Maybe we should just get the necessities today and come back some other time for the rest.”
“How did you guys get this all here anyhow?” Rabbit asks, handing the wig over to Aggie.
“Couple of trunks with wheels and some creative rope work,” Dottie says. “At one point we had our bikes practically set up like rickshaws. You can carry a lot like that.”
“Where are they now?” I ask.
“They broke. I think there’s one over on the far side of the parking lot,” Aggie says with a wave of her hand. “Wheels went flat.”
If it rolls, we might still be able to use it, though. I set down my overloaded pack and head off in the direction Aggie gestured, looking for something that resembles a wheeled cart. I pass by Murr’s discarded kilt and pick it up, smiling as I do. He sure loves to feed us. Straightening, I put my hand to my brow and scan the skies for the big dragon. I see his big form in the distance, dipping low over the area where the bookstore is. He might be feeding the cats before he returns to us, or maybe the deer gave him more of a chase than I realized.
He’s a good guy. I don’t know why I’m always so nervous about…well, everything. It’s just hard to turn off that part of your brain when it’s been wired to be on high alert for so many years.
I move around a broken-down car, picking my way through the old parking lot. As I do, I come across another vehicle I hadn’t seen yet, an old ambulance, its tires flat on one side and the entire thing tilted as if sinking into the ground. Weeds have grown up around it, and a small tree is sprouting through one wheel well, but that’s not what draws my attention.
It’s the neon green DRAGON LOVER IN BOOKSTORE spray-painted across the entire side of the ambulance.
I stare at it for a moment, reading it once, twice, before my heart starts to pound with anxiety. Taking Murr’s kilt, I move to the painted words and try to rub them off, but they don’t budge.
Shit. Shit, shit, fuck, damn and shit.
Who knows that we’re here, other than the nomad? And how does he know about Murr?
I know exactly what this sign is, of course. It’s a callout to anyone in the area that if they’re looking to cause trouble, I’m one to pick on. The worst thing you can call someone in the After is a dragon lover, or a dragon sympathizer. It means you’re no longer on the side of humanity. It means you’re aligning yourself with the dragons that have set fire to and destroyed our homes for the past ten years. I don’t think enough time has passed with the dragons no longer attacking us for that mentality to change.
“Hey, guys?” I call out. “Can you come look at this?”
The others come over to where I’m standing, and Dottie curses under her breath at the sight of the lettering. “That damn nomad is determined to cause trouble.”
“You think it was him?” I ask, worried.
“I do. He’s done this shit before. His hobby is harassing people,” Dottie says. Aggie is unusually quiet for once, but her expression tells me that she’s just as unhappy about this as Dottie is.
“We can paint over it, Mom,” Rabbit says, moving to my side. “I’m sure we can find some paint cans and cover it up. It’s not a big deal.”
She’s right. There’s no need to panic. We can cover it, like she says. There are bound to be paint cans around somewhere that haven’t turned to glue. I put an arm around my daughter’s shoulders in a hug. “You’re right. Thanks, baby.”
I’m just being overprotective. Panicky.
I glance over at Aggie, who’s still quiet. She’s staring off in the distance, and I follow her gaze.
DRAGON LOVER is painted on another car, with an arrow. Beyond that one, there’s another car that’s been hit by the vivid green spray paint.
Jesus, this guy really is determined.
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CHAPTER 33
DAKOTA
I must look like I’m ready to explode. Rabbit gives me a worried look, touching my arm. “Mom, are you okay?”
“I kind of want to kill a man right now, actually,” I say, keeping my voice cheerful. “Just find that guy that’s trying to ruin our lives and put a few arrows through him.”
“You and me both,” Aggie says, her voice mournful. “He won’t give up. We should probably just all leave the bookstore to him, Murr included. Just go somewhere else and live peacefully.”
Rabbit scoffs, leaning against the car as if she can cover up the hateful words with her body. “Why would we do that? Murr can just eat the guy.”
“We don’t want that,” Aggie says, suddenly alarmed. “That’s just wrong!”
Is it? Or is there something else going on?
I round on the two women, narrowing my eyes. Why is it that finding a big dragon-man living across the parking lot from us hasn’t been half as chaotic as these two old ladies coming into our lives? What is it about them that brings such craziness? “Don’t you find it strange that this guy won’t fuck off? That he’s picking on women who haven’t done anything to him?”
Dottie frowns at me, folding an old quilt as tightly as she can. “What are you saying?”
“If he’s a mercenary, why won’t he just leave? We don’t have anything he wants. If he wants some books from the bookstore, he’s welcome to come grab them. Why hassle us? And why are you suddenly so gung-ho on us leaving? What is it you’re not telling us?”
Aggie just scowls. “I don’t like your tone, missy.”
It’s Dottie that lets out a heavy sigh and turns to her friend. “Maybe just tell them the truth, all right? I’m tired of all this subterfuge.”
Aha. Now we’re getting somewhere. “You’re working with him, aren’t you? That’s what all this is about.”
Aggie’s mouth quivers and for a horrifying moment, I think I’ve made an old lady cry. “It’s not what you think. It’s not like we have a choice.”
“He’s got Stella,” Dottie says, her voice flat. “And he’s going to keep her unless we do what he says.”
I knew there was something suspicious about all of this. It all felt like too much, all at once. A hostage makes sense. He’s got their friend and that’s why some of their stories don’t quite line up. I don’t feel that Dottie and Aggie are malicious, but some of the ways they’ve been acting have seemed cagey for sure. “Did he push you two towards us? Told you where we were?”
Dottie nods reluctantly, and Aggie just looks utterly deflated, her mouth pulled into a permanent frown. Dottie continues, “He told us to go make friends with you. See if you had anything worth taking. We’re supposed to report back to him. Give him a signal if you’re worth stealing from.”
“And are we?” Rabbit asks. I can hear the betrayal in her voice.
“Of course not. You’ve got a dragon! He’d be an idiot to come steal from you,” Dottie scoffs. “And you’ve been real nice to us. It would have been easier if you guys were jerks. I don’t feel too bad snowing someone if they deserve it. But it’s the fact that you’re nice that throws things off.”
“And the dragon,” Aggie says, uncharacteristically solemn. She sits down on the floor of the open van, as if all the energy has left her body. “He protects you. Feeds you. I bet he’d protect and feed us if we stayed, too.”
“I don’t know that I want you to stay,” I point out, angry. “Not if you’re putting me and my daughter at risk.”
“And the cats,” Rabbit adds. “Murr loves his cats. I love them, too. I don’t want anything to happen to them.”
“We’re not interested in harming the cats,” Dottie begins.
“You might not be but what about this jerk?” Rabbit retorts.
“His name is Curtis,” Dottie says. “And I don’t know how he feels about cats. He’s more interested in electronics. And Stella, of course.” Her mouth purses and she looks over at Aggie again. “He’s not going to give her up without a fight.”
“”Not if he wants to breed her,” Aggie agrees, her tone mournful.
My daughter sputters. “Wait, what?”
I frown to myself, too. I’ve been picturing poor old Stella as some gray-haired little granny, too fragile to take control of a bad situation or too small to fight back against this Curtis guy. “He’s breeding her?”
“Well, yeah, he wants to. I mean, she’s too stupid to care,” Aggie says.
“That’s not nice,” I say automatically.
“It’s true, though,” Aggie continues. “She doesn’t care who’s in charge as long as she gets fed, but he’s got plans. He thinks he’ll make a fortune selling the little ones in the forts. He’s just gonna keep her locked up and breed her until she can’t breed no more.”
“That’s awful,” I say, revolted anew at how terrible people are in the After.
Aggie grimaces and scratches under her wig. “Well, yeah. He’s not a good guy. He saw we had Stella and took her from us. I just want her back.”
Dottie nods, holding the blanket tightly against her. “She deserves better.”
“Of course she does. No one should live like that.” I’m picturing the poor woman myself. It sounds like she’s mentally disabled and in the hands of an awful man who’s using her. I’ve heard of some horrid things in the After but breeding a woman really takes the cake. I press my palm to my forehead. “We’ll rescue her. What can you tell us about Stella?”
“She’s five,” Aggie says, choked up. “And just the happiest girl you can imagine.”
My brain explodes.”What?”
“She’s five?” Rabbit cries.
“And she’s got three legs,” Aggie adds. “And the biggest jowls you’ve ever seen.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. My mental picture has gone from an old woman to a tiny child and now just fritzed out entirely. “Wait a moment. Stella’s not a human?”
“What? No! She’s my dog,” Aggie declares. “He’s holding her captive to force us to do his bidding.”
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