A Dragonlings' Magical Christmas (2 page)

Riley turned to look at Ha’ven in surprise. He gave her a lopsided grin. She guessed that the proverbial cat was out of the bag for Ha’ven now and everyone knew that he could do weird stuff.

“No one’s allowed to blow Vox, but me,” she growled before blushing. “I mean, blow up. No one’s allowed to blow up Vox… Oh hell, you know what I mean.” Her voice faded when all the men snickered at her gaffe. Turning, she looked up at Vox with a raised eyebrow. “I think you’ve done enough damage for the night. It’s past Roam’s bedtime and you know he won’t settle down unless you’re there to tuck him in.”

Vox glared at the other men when they snickered again. It was hard to stay mad at any of them when he knew they felt the same way about their mates as he did about his. Wrapping his arm around Riley’s waist, he pulled her close and brushed a kiss across her temple. In the past year, his life had changed dramatically, and for all the playful ribbing the others loved to give him, it had all been for the better.

“Let’s go put Roam to bed, then you can show me just how much you love to blow me,” he whispered in her ear.

A low grunt escaped him when Riley elbowed him in the stomach and pulled away. In a flash, she had shifted again and released a low, menacing snarl at the other men who chuckled. Obviously, he hadn’t been as quiet as he thought.

His eyes turned to watch as Riley, in the shape of her white tiger, moved gracefully down the walkway flicking her tail as she pranced. A soft rumble of approval escaped his cat before he could contain it, drawing even more snickering comments from his friends. Right now, he could care less. He’d get even with them tomorrow. Tonight, he had more important things to do, like tucking his son into bed so he could take his beautiful mate up on her unwitting offer.

“Oh my goodness! Trelon! The girls found your duplicator again,” Cara called down in a harried voice. “I think they tried to use it on Symba. There’s a bunch of freaky little gold things running all over the room.”

“Freaky little gold things?” Zoran repeated, looking at Trelon with a sympathetic expression. “Good luck, Trelon. It sounds like you are going to need it.”

“Just… don’t touch anything until I can check out the panels again. I’ll switch to emergency power,” Trelon muttered, turning quickly and stepping over the plants so he could shift. “At least that will get us through the night.”

“Dragon’s Balls,” Mandra groaned. “I thought for sure we would be done by tonight. We’ve only got a week to get things together if we want to be done in time for the day the women want to celebrate.”

Zoran chuckled and slapped Mandra on the shoulder. “Come on, Mandra. You and Trelon can tackle your section again tomorrow. He has enough to worry about tonight.”

Creon watched with a grin as Trelon took off for the second story balcony while Zoran and Mandra chatted as they walked away. Turning back to Kelan and Ha’ven, he gave his brother and best friend a crooked grin.

“It seems only fitting that the night the women want to celebrate their ‘Christmas’ is the same night that the Great War officially ended,” Creon added in a quiet voice. “It is a time that should be celebrated as peace settled over our worlds and we gained new friends.”

“That is true,” Ha’ven agreed, thinking of the day long ago when he, Creon, and Vox sealed their alliance and pledged to bring down those that would try to rule through deceit. “Too many lives were lost because of a few who wanted power. It is a time of celebration, for great friends and for our new families.”

Trisha sighed the next morning as she looked at the tree sitting between a set of double doors in the living room of her dad and Morian’s palace quarters. Tilting her head, she glanced at her dad and shook her head. It was still leaning to the left a little bit.

“It needs to come to the right,” Trisha said with a frown. “It looked level just a few minutes ago.”

Paul stood back and looked at the tree as well. Bending down, a low chuckle escaped him when he stared through the branches. He had wondered why it suddenly felt heavier when he moved it this last time, the tiny tip of a tail flicked back and forth, barely visible through the thick, green branches. He was pretty sure he knew the reason why now.

“Where’s Bálint?” Paul asked, glancing up at Trisha.

“Bálint? He’s….” A slow grin curved Trisha’s lips as she leaned forward and peered through the branches. “Playing hide and seek,” she replied in a soft voice as a pair of bright, golden eyes stared back at her. “I wonder where he could be?”

Paul’s chuckle echoed through the room when the body of a purple and gold dragonling suddenly jumped out of the tree and into his arms, knocking him onto his back. Holding his grandson in his arms, he almost dropped Bálint when he suddenly shifted. Bright eyes, dancing with mischief and glee, stared down at Paul in delight.

“Tag! I tag…,” Bálint happily crowed.

“Yes, you did. You tagged your Grandpa,” Paul laughed. “Now, it is time to eat me some belly.”

Trisha shook her head as she watched her father and Bálint rolling on the floor wrestling. Looking up, she caught Morian’s smiling face as she came out of the kitchen area. Her eyes scanned over Kelan’s mother; to say that Morian was glowing would’ve been an understatement.

“He used to wrestle with me on the floor like that,” Trisha commented, watching as
Bálint climbed on her dad’s back and started kicking him in the ribs. “He loves riding his horsey.”

Trisha reached out and helped Morian straighten when she grimaced as she reached for an ornament. Morian’s reassuring smile made her feel better, but she was still worried about her. Her eyes scanned Morian’s flushed face, looking for any signs that she had been overdoing things again.

“How are you feeling?” Trisha asked, taking the ornament and hanging it on the tree.

Morian chuckled when she saw Paul pause and glance at her with intense, scrutinizing eyes. Blowing him a kiss, she laid her hand against her rounded stomach. At almost five months, she was getting very close to her due date.

“I’m fine,” Morian assured her, handing Trisha another ornament. “The healer says I could deliver any day.”

Trisha grinned and took the beautiful glass dragon that Abby had made. “I can’t believe I’m going to have a little sister,” she murmured as she hung the dragon high enough that she hoped Bálint wouldn’t be able to reach it.

“Neither can Kelan or the others,” Morian commented dryly. “I fear she is never going to be allowed out of the palace.”

“Yes, she will,” Paul replied with a grin, holding Bálint by his ankles as his grandson hung upside down over his shoulder squealing in delight. “She’ll learn about the forests and the rivers and the animals that live on this world, just as Trisha did back on Earth. She’ll also learn how to protect herself should the need ever arise.”

“Only if we are there as well,” Kelan commented, stretching his arms up before he plucked Bálint off of Paul’s shoulder. “In the meantime, I have a son to pick on for a few minutes before I go help Mandra. I had another idea last night.”

“You’d better tell Trelon about it,” Trisha warned, shaking her head. “I don’t know why you guys won’t let us girls help. Shoot, at least get Cara to help you. Poor Trelon looked pretty ragged yesterday.”

Kelan chuckled, lifting Bálint up so he was sitting on his shoulders. “There is a method to our madness,” he replied with a huge grin. “The busier we keep Trelon, the less time he and Mandra have to put up their creations. I’m sure Creon and I are ahead.”

Trisha rolled her eyes at Morian when a smothered snort escaped Kelan’s mom. The guys’ competitive nature was hilarious to observe, but painful to live with. Between the constant power outages, there had been the tangle of wires, a few minor trips to the healer for cuts and burns, and some very late nights waiting for their respective spouses to come home.

“You should be nicer to Trelon,” Trisha murmured, stepping up to tickle Bálint’s toes before she brushed a kiss across Kelan’s lips. “He has enough of a hard time dealing with Cara and his two little ones.”

“Little dragonlings, you mean,” Kelan chuckled. “I wonder what happened last night. Cara said the girls got hold of his duplicator again and used it on his symbiot. Something tells me the Goddesses would not allow their blood to be duplicated so easily.”

“You are pure evil at times,” Trisha admonished even as she fought the giggle that was trying to escape. “Hand over Bálint and go find out if Trelon needs any help. Remember, we are all meeting at Abby and Zoran’s quarters tonight for dinner, cookies, and eggnog.”

Kelan lifted Bálint from his shoulders, barely moving his head to the side to avoid the tiny kicking feet. Holding Bálint close to his chest, he bent and pressed a kiss to the chubby cheek before handing him to Trisha. His eyes softened as he gazed down into Trisha’s warm brown eyes.

Lifting his hand, he trailed his fingers down along her cheek before he cupped her chin and lifted it. He captured her lips in a kiss full of love. A low moan escaped him, and for a moment, he forgot that they were not alone as he deepened the kiss. His tongue tangled with hers in a dance as old as time, awakening the dragon inside him. The fleeting thought that perhaps either his mom and Paul or Bio could watch Bálint for a short time disappeared with a painful grunt.

“Bálint, no biting,” Trisha chided in a husky voice.

“Dada bite mommy,” Bálint growled. “No bite, Dada.”

Kelan grimaced and rubbed his throbbing ear before he bent and nibbled on Bálint’s neck, sending his small son into a fit of giggles again. His eyes smoldered with desire as he stared at Trisha. Tonight, after dinner, he would be doing some serious biting.

“Tonight,” Kelan whispered, brushing another kiss across Trisha’s lips before he reluctantly stepped back and turned. “I’m sure we’ll be successful this time. That is, if Vox and Ha’ven don’t set the palace on fire first.”

“Don’t be late,” Morian called to Kelan as he opened the door. “And help your brother.”

“I will,” Kelan replied before he shut the door behind him.

Paul gazed after Kelan for a moment before turning when he felt a delicate hand on his arm. The corner of his mouth lifted when he saw her silent request to follow Kelan. Brushing a tender kiss across her lips, he stepped back and gave her a slight nod.

“Thank you,” Morian whispered. “Sometimes they have just a little too much fun.”

Trisha stepped closer to Morian and watched as her father walked out of the living quarters. She lowered Bálint to the floor when he started to wiggle. With a loud sigh, she grimaced when she realized he was making a beeline for the lights.

“Daddy will be able to get them organized,” Trisha said, reaching for Bálint again. “I think we are going to need Bio’s help if we are going to get this done before tonight.”

Morian chuckled as she watched Trisha trying to peel Bálint’s fingers from the string of lights. Every time she got one hand free, the other one reached out and grabbed it. Waddling over to them, she bent with a grimace and helped rescue the battered string.

“I wonder how the other girls are doing,” Morian commented, rubbing her lower back with a soft groan. “I forgot about this part of being pregnant. How Carmen and Cara dealt with carrying twins, I’ll never know.”

*.*.*

“Cara! There’s another one of these golden zombies,” Abby shrieked in surprise as she fell backwards from where she had been hanging more tinsel on the tree in Cara and Trelon’s living quarters. “Oh my god, they are just… creepy.”

“Symba! We need you again,” Cara frantically called out as she tried to sweep the inch sized golden robot-type creature into a dust pan. “Damn, this one looks like something straight out of a Tim Burton film.”

“That or one of those demented purple minions, only this time in gold,” Abby added in a shaky voice. “I hope you’ve hidden that duplicator thing so the girls can’t find it again.”

“We did. Trelon took it down to the lab,” Cara explained as she turned and tossed the golden replica through the air to Symba. Both she and Abby winced when they heard a loud screech before Symba swallowed the damn thing. “I hope that is the last of them.”

“Where are Amber and Jade?” Abby suddenly asked, looking frantically around for Zohar. “Oh God, where is Zohar?”

Cara blanched and turned when she heard a muffled cry. She released a curse when she heard Amber and Jade’s giggles. Hurrying around the couch, she sent an apologetic glance at Abby.

“I’m so sorry, Abby,” Cara mumbled as she skirted the couch. “Girls, Zohar is
not
a present. You cannot wrap him up.”

Abby bit her lip to keep from laughing as she followed Cara. Amber and Jade had rolled Zohar up in some Christmas paper that Cara had duplicated. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but they had used what looked like a whole roll of tape and the rest of the fabric bows to decorate him.

“Oh Zohar,” Abby chuckled when she saw that he looked like a rolled sausage. “At least they didn’t cover his face.”

“Momma, pretty,” Amber said, patting Zohar on his forehead as he looked up at his mother with pleading eyes.

“Yes, he is pretty, but he isn’t a present,” Cara admonished. “Jade, what do you think you are going to do, young lady?”

Jade grinned up at her mom and dropped the box that she was carrying. It toppled over and more than two dozen tiny golden creatures in various shapes escaped. Loud giggles burst from all three children when Cara and Abby both released a startled squeak as the demented gold creatures began crawling out of it. .

“Oh my goodness!” Abby groaned breathlessly as she scooped Zohar up in her arms before they could reach him.

“Symba!” Abby and Cara yelled at the same time.

“Mine!” Jade growled when she saw Symba bounce into the room. “My toys.”

Cara grabbed Jade in one arm as her daughter reached for one of the golden monsters before turning to grab Amber in the other. Struggling to get the two squirming girls up onto the couch where Abby and Zohar had taken refuge, she watched as Symba chased the creatures around the room.

Abby sighed as she watched the pile of wrapping paper and boxes the girls and Zohar had been playing with scatter in all directions as the tiny beasts tried to escape Symba’s tongue. By the time the last one had been scooped up, the room looked like a dozen tiny tornadoes had swept through it.