“You know, my mind is having a bit of a hard time accepting the idea of real magic, but given that I’m a dragon lite, I’m going to tell it to get with the program. Okay. Magic exists, and you can stick it on things. What things?”
He made a vague gesture. “Pretty much whatever you want. That magic usually makes the object much more powerful, kind of like it enhances the quality of the item.”
“So if I magicked up my Xena sword, it would become a super Xena sword?” I asked, trying to wrap my brain around that idea.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Considering I’m almost a mythical creature that I had no idea existed a few days ago, then I’ll buy the whole magic thing.”
“Alchemists break magic. That is, we take it from whatever it’s imbued and re-form it into its essential components, rendering the object magically impotent.”
“And you do this?”
“I have. Once before.”
The way he said the words raised all sorts of warning bells in my head. “And?”
He was silent for a moment, his gaze slipping away from mine. “And the first time I tried it, some people interfered with the process. I should have stopped them, but I was only sixteen at the time, and cocksure. Not to mention the fact that the people in question—dragons, to be exact—weren’t inclined to take no as a suggestion. They paid the ultimate price for their interference—the breaking went wrong, and instead of turning a relic of a demon lord into a harmless object, it exploded with dark power. I was thrown back by the blast, but the four dragons who were with me… they took the brunt of it.”
“Oh, how horrible,” I said, scooting closer to him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him to comfort him, but I had an idea he had a little more soul-baring to do… not to mention I wasn’t sure if he’d welcome the gesture.
“It was. More than horrible, it was devastating, especially considering I’d tried to get the dragons to leave while I attempted the breaking. Once I recovered from my injuries, I was visited by a being who claimed he was the progenitor of all dragonkin.”
“I have a feeling he wasn’t there to chitchat,” I said, risking a little squeeze to his arm.
He slumped back, his face filled with remembered pain, and suddenly it was too much for me. I clutched him by both arms, pulling him to me so I could hold him and ease the anguish.
“He wasn’t,” he said, his face pressed into my bosom. His voice was muffled, his breath hot on my skin. I ignored that sensation, though. It wasn’t at all right to get turned on while trying to offer solace. “Would you mind if I asked what you’re doing?”
“Comforting you,” I said, stroking his back.
“Ah. I suspected it was something along those lines.”
“Do you not like to be comforted?” I stopped rubbing his back and peered down at the top of his head.
“I’m quite enjoying it, as a matter of fact,” he said against my breasts. “But I fear if we remain in this position for much longer, I may be forced to take action.”
“Action? What sort of action?”
His tongue snaked out into the valley between my two Xena’d breasts. “We have been discussing nipples, after all.”
I shivered, my body alternating with flashes of heat and waves of desire. “Great galloping ghosts, hurry up and get off your chest whatever it is you want off, so we can go into my room and go wild on each other.”
I’d released him by then, and he pulled himself upright, giving me the wickedest grin I’d ever received, a grin that ignited flames of passion.
Literally. I stubbed out the flames burning merrily about my feet. “Dammit. Go on.”
He was silent for a moment, his gaze losing a lot of its heat. “Your connection to the dragons is why I felt it important to tell you my history. The dragonkin know me as a murderer of their own kind. I wouldn’t want you to think the stories they tell about me were true.”
I tugged up my breastpiece, which had shifted a smidgen during the comforting process. “What did this dragon daddy guy want?”
“Revenge. Well… of a sort. He bound a danegeld to me. Do you know what that is?”
“I do, as a matter of fact. My roomie is a huge historical fiction fan, and she’s always forcing books on me. It’s a tribute people had to pay their overlord.”
He nodded. “The First Dragon demanded that I pay for the deaths I’d caused.” He made air quotes around the last word. “He gave me five years to pay back the cost of each life. He said that I didn’t have the payment by the time the entire period was up, I would forfeit my own life.”
“Well, that’s just bullshit,” I said, outraged on Rowan’s behalf. “How dare this high and mighty guy lay down the law on you. You’re innocent until proven guilty, and if everyone is ignoring the fact that you weren’t responsible, then that’s not your problem.”
“Unfortunately, it is.” He fell silent, but absently, as if he didn’t realize he was doing it, he took my hand and rested it on his thigh, his finger stroking across the top of my hand.