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Authors: Sarah A. Hoyt
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wave-a-wand type of magic at least.
She squeezed her hands so tight that she thought she was going to put holes into her palms, but nothing happened.
Why wasn’t the shift working?
Had the Great Sky Dragon done something that meant she couldn’t shift? But why? And why put her in this room, behind the diner? What in heaven’s name could he mean by this? And by setting the building on fire? Bea realized she was absolutely sure that he’d done just that, though she couldn’t say why. If only her head didn’t hurt so badly.
Smoke was now coming in from outside too, a thick pillar of it obscuring the parking lot. She coughed and for a moment thought she was going to shift, but the burn up her nose and at the back of her throat told her it was only the smoke.
There was a thud on the roof ledge outside her window, and she ran toward the sound. Through the smoke, she had a brief glimpse of glistening green scales, a set of silver claws, and a rolling golden eye, and then—
A young man was there. He was dark-haired, blue-eyed, and completely naked. His black hair was curly and much too long, making him appear a wild man. But she remembered the scales, the claws, the eye. A dragon shifter. She wondered if he were one of the Great Sky Dragon’s. She wondered what excuse he meant to use for being naked. But none of it mattered. He knocked at the window. She opened it. And then—
And then he was reaching in and saying, “I’m sorry, this is going to sound very odd—”
He stopped and sniffed, and for a moment she wondered what he was smelling, besides the obvious smoke in the air, but his voice was subtly different as he said, “Or perhaps not so very odd. Listen, I shift into a dragon and I’m going to shift. And then I’m going to fly you down to an area behind the dumpsters where I can shift and change. Do you think you can climb on my back?” he asked, even as his face seemed to already be elongating for the shift. “And hold on while I fly you down?”
She wanted to make a joke about wanting to be introduced first, but instead she nodded once and watched as he coughed and writhed in the change from human to dragon. The hand grasping madly at the windowsill changed to a giant clawed paw.
The dragon facing her looked nothing like her own dragon form. He was sturdier, more massive and looked less like the serpentine dragon of Chinese myth. Bea didn’t look like Chinese dragons in tapestries and parades either. For one, she had wings. But this man’s dragon looked more like something that might have been carved into the front of a Viking ship: barrel-chested and heavy-jawed.
His mouth worked, and he said something that sounded like “now.”
She scrambled hand over hand, grabbing at his neck, surprised by the feeling of warm scales, wondering if hers felt like that too; then she stepped onto the narrow ledge of shingles, trying to throw a leg over the massive ill-balanced body, and mentally cursing the Great Sky Dragon.
She lost her footing and held her breath, seeing the fire trucks so far below. He grabbed her with his spare paw and threw her over his back, barely giving her time to hold onto his neck before flying down, carefully keeping behind the smoke, to land with a jar in the alley, behind the dumpsters. He began contorting almost immediately and Bea jumped off.
She stood, shaking, not believing she was on solid ground, and it was all she could do to keep herself from kissing the compacted dirt of the alley.
Moments later, he was saying, through a coughing fit, “I’m sorry. I had to hurry you. If the breeze shifted, they would have seen us.”
“No, that’s fine,” she said and averted her eyes, as he dove for a bundle of fabric behind the dumpster. “Thank you for saving me.” She wasn’t sure if she should fake astonishment at his being a shapeshifter, but in the next second she was glad she hadn’t, because he came from behind the dumpster, fully dressed, grinning, tying back his
She squeezed her hands so tight that she thought she was going to put holes into her palms, but nothing happened.
Why wasn’t the shift working?
Had the Great Sky Dragon done something that meant she couldn’t shift? But why? And why put her in this room, behind the diner? What in heaven’s name could he mean by this? And by setting the building on fire? Bea realized she was absolutely sure that he’d done just that, though she couldn’t say why. If only her head didn’t hurt so badly.
Smoke was now coming in from outside too, a thick pillar of it obscuring the parking lot. She coughed and for a moment thought she was going to shift, but the burn up her nose and at the back of her throat told her it was only the smoke.
There was a thud on the roof ledge outside her window, and she ran toward the sound. Through the smoke, she had a brief glimpse of glistening green scales, a set of silver claws, and a rolling golden eye, and then—
A young man was there. He was dark-haired, blue-eyed, and completely naked. His black hair was curly and much too long, making him appear a wild man. But she remembered the scales, the claws, the eye. A dragon shifter. She wondered if he were one of the Great Sky Dragon’s. She wondered what excuse he meant to use for being naked. But none of it mattered. He knocked at the window. She opened it. And then—
And then he was reaching in and saying, “I’m sorry, this is going to sound very odd—”
He stopped and sniffed, and for a moment she wondered what he was smelling, besides the obvious smoke in the air, but his voice was subtly different as he said, “Or perhaps not so very odd. Listen, I shift into a dragon and I’m going to shift. And then I’m going to fly you down to an area behind the dumpsters where I can shift and change. Do you think you can climb on my back?” he asked, even as his face seemed to already be elongating for the shift. “And hold on while I fly you down?”
She wanted to make a joke about wanting to be introduced first, but instead she nodded once and watched as he coughed and writhed in the change from human to dragon. The hand grasping madly at the windowsill changed to a giant clawed paw.
The dragon facing her looked nothing like her own dragon form. He was sturdier, more massive and looked less like the serpentine dragon of Chinese myth. Bea didn’t look like Chinese dragons in tapestries and parades either. For one, she had wings. But this man’s dragon looked more like something that might have been carved into the front of a Viking ship: barrel-chested and heavy-jawed.
His mouth worked, and he said something that sounded like “now.”
She scrambled hand over hand, grabbing at his neck, surprised by the feeling of warm scales, wondering if hers felt like that too; then she stepped onto the narrow ledge of shingles, trying to throw a leg over the massive ill-balanced body, and mentally cursing the Great Sky Dragon.
She lost her footing and held her breath, seeing the fire trucks so far below. He grabbed her with his spare paw and threw her over his back, barely giving her time to hold onto his neck before flying down, carefully keeping behind the smoke, to land with a jar in the alley, behind the dumpsters. He began contorting almost immediately and Bea jumped off.
She stood, shaking, not believing she was on solid ground, and it was all she could do to keep herself from kissing the compacted dirt of the alley.
Moments later, he was saying, through a coughing fit, “I’m sorry. I had to hurry you. If the breeze shifted, they would have seen us.”
“No, that’s fine,” she said and averted her eyes, as he dove for a bundle of fabric behind the dumpster. “Thank you for saving me.” She wasn’t sure if she should fake astonishment at his being a shapeshifter, but in the next second she was glad she hadn’t, because he came from behind the dumpster, fully dressed, grinning, tying back his
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