The Queen's Dance (Emerging Queens) (4 page)

Chapter Four

Falling off a house hurt like a bitch. But not as much as getting shot with a cannon would have. Margery hadn’t expected to be knocked out, though. She must have needed the sleep, because she could feel the sun on her body again. Maybe today she’d be able to fly.

“Is she dead?” A shadow blocked out the sun, and she instinctively flinched. Oh, no, the drakes won. She was a prisoner again. At least they kept her out in the sun.

“Obviously not, Reed. Back off, you big galoot. You’re scaring her.”

Margery opened her eyes at the female voice and smiled at the dragonling hovering over her. She had thick thumbs and toes, no claws that Margery could see. Her face had a hooked beak, and her wings buzzed in excitement.

“I’m Carolyn. We’re from the embassy.”

Margery turned her head and then cowered before the large, black dragon looming above her.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’ll give him a big head. And he’s the size of a bus already. That’s Reed, my consort.”

“Hello,” Margery said. The black dragon landed with a ground-shaking thump. His bulk blotted out the sky. He was truly the most terrifying thing she had ever seen. Sharp horns ringed his neck, and two massive ones rose out of his forehead. His eyes were the size of footballs and glowed red. His claws gripped the ground as he steadied himself.

“We’re from the embassy. Champ called us.” He swung his head around, his nostrils flaring.

Champ.
“Is he all right? Are the drakes gone?” Margery said, forcing herself to look at the smaller dragon.

“Nobody here but us chickens,” Carolyn said. “You look like hell. Do you want to come inside with us?”

“Remy doesn’t want me in the house. He says I should stay outside until I can shift back into a dragon. I’m…damaged.” Margery looked down as she got to her feet, not wanting to see the pity in Carolyn’s eyes. The sun bolstered her, and she straightened up with just a twinge in her back. “I tried to shift last night in the fight and wound up just puking up my supper,” Margery said, feeling like her old self again. Well, her old self without wings, anyway.

“I hate when that happens,” Carolyn said. “Where’s Remy? You shouldn’t be alone.”

“He’s not here?” Margery tamped down a flash of panic. “He saved me. He fought the drakes.” She staggered forward.

“Easy,” Carolyn said. “I’m sure he’s fine. Why don’t we go inside and Reed can find him. I bet you’d like a shower.”

“That would be heaven.” Margery felt like the entire forest was in her hair, and she ached all over from spending the night on the ground.

The air around Carolyn shimmered as she shifted to her human form. Carolyn’s brown hair was swept back into a bun at the back of her head. She had tortoiseshell glasses and wore a pink polo shirt and jeans. She looked like a librarian, but that could be because she was carrying a book. “I brought you this.”

It was James Fenimore Cooper’s
Last of the Mohicans
.

“I know this is Lake Champlain and not Lake George, but I figured close enough. It’s a great book.”

“I’ve never read it, but I saw the movie.”

“Stay alive,” Carolyn recited and acted out, grabbing Margery by her shoulders. “I
will
find you.”

Alive.
“Remy’s okay, right?” Margery didn’t know what she would do if something had happened to him. It would be all her fault.

Reed cleared his throat. He had shifted into a well-dressed Fed, which apparently he was. He was handsome in a hit-man–chic sort of way. He made the word “intense” a verb. “I’ll secure the perimeter and see if I can find Champ. I believe he’s in the lake, where he’s strongest.”

Relief shook through her. “Can you check? Do you think the drakes hurt him?” Guilt nibbled at her. He had been so brave and a total badass. She was glad he was on her side.

“In a moment. I need to process the scene out front. Carolyn, please take Margery inside.”

The Smooshie doll!

“I need to get something out front,” she said.

They followed her around the house. Margery stopped dead when she saw the carnage. There were tracks everywhere. Dead drakes littered the ground, whole and in pieces. The log she and Remy had been sitting on was splinters. The air mattress was shredded into tiny pieces. She was glad the sea serpent–like creature that Remy turned into wasn’t among the fallen.

Her relief was cut short when she saw the Smooshie.

“Oh, no,” she said. She ran over and sank to her knees on the ground. The red stuffed animal had been torn asunder and was nearly unrecognizable after the pounding it took. She checked, but the pills were gone. Her proof was as dead as the drake carcasses.

“What’s going on?” Carolyn asked Reed.

“Take her inside.”

“This was evidence,” Margery said, holding up the scraps of fabric. “I had proof that Smythe Industries was smuggling drugs in these Smooshie dolls.”

Reed shrugged. “I’ll see what information we have on them. Smythe is on my shit list, anyway. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s into something like this.”

“You don’t understand,” Margery said. “I’m not talking about Viagra or Percocet. This drug was made to chemically transform a human’s uterus so it would accept dragon sperm.”

That stopped Reed in his tracks.

“It’s killing more women than it’s making into incubators,” Carolyn said.

“How did you know?” Margery looked up.

“It’s one of my cases,” Reed said. “You have proof of this?”

“I did.” She held up the remains of the doll.

He took it from her and sniffed. “All I can smell are drakes.”

“They knew about it, too.” Margery glanced around, but it didn’t look like any of the drakes would be talking any time soon.

“I’ll get a team to track them. Please, don’t worry yourself about that. I apologize that we arrived too late to save you from the unpleasantness.” Reed inclined his head in respect.

“The pirates who kidnapped me were shipping these”—Margery shook the battered dragon doll—“from Quebec to Vermont. The cargo and the yacht were destroyed when Viola and Remy rescued me. I know it’s just a matter of time before Smythe makes his next shipment.” Margery told him the name of the warehouse and the road it was on.

Reed bowed his head. “That will aid the investigation greatly.”

“Can you find Remy?” Margery rubbed her arms as a chill shook through her. “He was so nice.”

“I’ll fly over the lake as soon as you and Carolyn are secure inside. Do not fear, though. I can be there and back in a matter of seconds. So can Champ—I have no doubt he’s fine, so don’t worry. You were never in any danger after the drakes were neutralized. Did they harm you?”

Margery took a deep breath and relaxed at Reed’s reassurances. Of course Remy was fine—he was so much stronger than all the other studs combined. “I’m okay. I’m just tired and a little weak. But truly, I need to get to the bottom of this Smooshie problem once Remy comes back.”

“I’ll send some agents over to question the men who held you prisoner and another team to investigate the warehouse where you were captured.” Reed reached into his pocket and frowned at his phone. “I don’t have a signal.”

“There’s a satellite connection on Remy’s laptop. I managed to save it during the fight.”

“First things first.” Carolyn stepped in. “You”—she pointed at Reed—“find Champ and bring him back here so we’re all on the same page. I’ll get Margery settled inside. You forget we’ve got another delegate coming in any minute. He’ll probably have a satellite phone that you can commandeer.”

“I find it’s easier just to do as she says,” Reed said to Margery. He kissed Carolyn on the cheek then shifted back into his dragon form and took flight.

Margery let Carolyn take control and watched as she got familiar with Remy’s surroundings then led her inside the house.

“Normally, I’d recommend a nice hot bath, but we’re in a bit of a hurry, so jump in the shower. I’ll put on a pot of coffee and see if I can drum up breakfast.”

Her whole being lit up. “Not coffee. Tea, please. Oh, do you think Remy has tea?” She’d kill for a cup of Earl Grey.

Carolyn shrugged. “His mom is Scottish. They drink tea over there, right? I’ll see what I can find.”

Margery bit her lip. “Do you know how to make tea?”

“Duh,” Carolyn said. “Nuke a Lipton tea bag in the microwave.”

Margery gasped so loud, she had a coughing fit.

“Oh, Nidhogg, are you all right? Should I call for Reed?”

“No.” Margery shook her head. “I just need a minute.” She took a deep breath. “The tea in tea bags is usually not high quality. In most cases, it’s the tea dust that’s left behind from the processing of the leaves.”

“So it’s crap?”

Margery thought that might be a little harsh. But if the shoe fit… “Yes. I mean, comparatively speaking. Tea leaves taste so much better. But I shouldn’t be so picky.” Margery opened up a few cupboards and then sighed in relief when she saw that Remy did have all the makings of the perfect cuppa. She pulled out a kettle and filled it with water. It was one of the few things her English grandmother had taught her to enjoy before she died. Those moments of her childhood when she was with her grandmother were the happiest times of her life. She still missed her with an ache that never quite faded away. After her funeral, Margery was sent back to her mom and the revolving door of “uncles.”

“I can do that,” Carolyn said as Margery put the kettle on the stove and turned on the burner.

Margery showed her a plain white teapot and a canister of loose tea. “First, we need to pour boiling water in the pot to warm it.”

“This sounds like it’s going to be complicated.” Carolyn crossed her arms and leaned against the refrigerator while she watched.

“It’ll be worth it, trust me.” Margery shook the tin and then lifted the lid and offered it for Carolyn to smell.

“That’s nice. It’s stronger than I’d expected.”

“It’s an English breakfast tea. We’re going to drink this with milk and sugar once it’s done. But to prepare it, we’re going to put in a teaspoon for each of us.” Margery counted out four teaspoons. “And one more for the pot.” It was a nice, comforting ritual. Some of the stress in her neck and shoulders eased. She could almost believe things were back to normal. Well, as normal as a dragon who couldn’t fly or shift could get, she supposed.

“Okay, okay,” Carolyn said. “Warm the pot. Scoop in the tea. And put more water in the pot. I think I can handle this. Why don’t you go take a shower?”

“I’m sorry.” Margery slumped. “I’m so grateful to you. I don’t mean to be fussy.”

Carolyn waved away her worries. “I’m the same way with books.”

Well, in that case…
“Once you put in the boiling water, steep the tea for four minutes. Set a timer. No longer or the tea will be bitter.” Margery lingered in the doorway. “Okay?”

Carolyn shooed her away.

Fretting about the tea gave Margery something else to concentrate on other than what happened last night. She really hoped Remy was all right. He had been outnumbered and still he’d stood between them and her, protecting her even though she was a stranger to him. She wasn’t used to dragons being so selfless. Selfish, arrogant, yes. Down-to-earth and kind? Not so much.

Remy’s bathroom was the size of her apartment. The first thing she did was go over to the sound system and turn it on. Casimiro’s latest hit echoed off the tiles. Snorting, she flicked it off. Speaking of self-centered jerks. Casimiro was an incredibly talented singer and songwriter. He was also a Chinese dragon, and one of Margery’s first assignments had been to interview him.

She still couldn’t believe she’d slept with him after only knowing him an hour.

“Whore,” she said to her reflection in the floor length, but there wasn’t any heat or recrimination in her voice. She was more concerned with the large bruises on her back and thighs. The only thing a dragon could do was hurt her heart, and she wasn’t letting a stud get that close ever again. Even if he did have a noble heart.

The thought of Remy’s smile, though, made her grin. It was a secret one, though. Only for her and her reflection.

At least the damage from being in the ship’s hold was starting to fade. Rolling her neck, Margery winced as her tight muscles protested. She ran the water as hot as she could stand it.

The shower was a religious experience. Remy had multiple showerheads hitting her with gushes of water at every possible angle. She could stay in here for hours—Carolyn had been thoughtful enough to bring shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel that had the pleasant fragrance of a seaside breeze. The fresh scent enveloped her, the smell of the ocean transporting her sensually to a beach party.

Most of the time, fragrances were all the vacation she could afford on her reporter salary. And when she came home to her apartment, she’d light a candle depending on her mood. Apple pie was one of her favorites when she was feeling lonesome, which was often. It got so bad that she pretended the chefs on the Food Network were part of her crazy family. The peppy, happy one that cooked fast was her zany sister. The rotund Italian chef was her favorite uncle, who would bring Perugina chocolates to her for the holidays. She even picked the sweet old Southern gal to be her mom. They were just television personalities, but the fantasy was better than the reality. Her sister was a grifter, strung out on drugs most of the time. Her uncle had molested them, and her mother was in jail. Yeah, she’d take fried butter and salmon sammies over that any day.

Toweled off, she got into the clothes that Carolyn had brought. They were a little big, but at least they were girl clothes. She was going to miss wearing Remy’s shirt. After a moment of consideration, she folded it up and stashed it in the overnight bag Carolyn had given her. Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind that she’d nicked it from him. Inside the bag, there was even a makeup bag with clips for her hair.

“You really think of everything,” she said, coming back downstairs to the smell of bacon frying up in a pan.

“I’ve been there.”

Margery made a beeline for the tea Carolyn had strained into four mugs and added milk and sugar to hers. She took a deep swallow, trying not to gulp it.