Firedrake Page 4

  Devyn grinned from ear to ear. “I think you’re right, Krysta. I saw how fast that bastard took off once he saw Lady Jenet rising over the scene.” The tavern owner chuckled and bowed once more to the dragon. “Again, I thank you for your intervention.” He opened his arms to gesture toward everyone in the small party. “All of you. And now, I must see to the rest of my guests. Drake, do you still feel up to a song? I daresay we could contrive an opening in the tent to make room for Lady Jenet. What do you say?”

  “I, for one, wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Jenet’s dry commentary was for Drake alone. “I haven’t heard you sing in fifteen years and I won’t wait another day. I always loved your songs, Drake.”

  “I’m always up for a song, Devyn. You know that.” Drake sent the man one of his best smiles as the tavern keeper bowed once more to Jenet and bustled back into his domain. Jenet’s words had touched him more than he could say.

  He’d been a musical child, encouraged by Ren and his mother, who was also a gifted musician, but Declan thought it a frivolous pursuit and a waste of time. Still, he’d sung Jenet to sleep almost every night, playing the instruments his mother gave him for various occasions. There were few she couldn’t play and she taught him all she knew.

  Drake had learned much in his travels over the past fifteen years. Something inside him looked forward to showing his family just how good he had become. That would start tonight, with Jenet, who’d been his best friend in the whole world during his youth. Funny how she fit right back into his life, even after the years of separation. It was like they’d never been apart.

  “I’ll sing for you tonight, Jenet.” He felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat. “Just for you.”

  The dragon moved to the side of the large tent where Devyn waited with several big men who were helping him lift the heavy canvas. Reaching out a wing, she made short work of sliding under the fabric, settling herself half in and half out of the big tent. Drake could just imagine what the mostly Jinn audience packed into the room thought about the appearance of a dragon in their midst.

  “I should be going.” Krysta was already backing away.

  “Can’t you stay for one song?” He found himself reluctant to let her go.

  But she shook her head. “I’m on duty. I only stopped for dinner and now it’s back to work.” She was rejecting him again. Her smile held true regret this time, though, which was a small victory at least.

  She moved off down the street, and he followed after. “Can I see you again?”

  Damn, he hadn’t sounded that desperate in years. What happened to Drake the Seducer? He was acting more like Drake the Dunce right now, but she didn’t seem to mind. She smiled up at him more brightly than any smile she’d given him before. Perhaps this sharing of his deepest secrets was the key with this particular special woman.

  “I’m certain our paths will cross at some point, Drake of the Five Lands.”

  So she knew who he was. Suddenly he regretted the reputation he’d cultivated as a ladies’ man and playboy. He didn’t want her to think badly of him, or that he was just toying with her. This woman—in such a short amount of time—had become something precious to him. He didn’t understand it, but he wasn’t questioning it just yet…at least not much. It was too important to secure a date with her before she disappeared into the night.

  He wished he could follow her, but he too had work to do that night. It wouldn’t do to disappoint his king on the first mission entrusted to him since his return. How would that look to the eyes of his family? His blood-father, Declan, in particular?

  “When?” Drake touched her arm, stroking with a gentle, beseeching touch. “When will I see you again, Krysta? Will you join me for lunch tomorrow? At Devyn’s? Or perhaps at the castle? I could give you a tour. You could meet some more dragons.”

  She laughed, and his heart dropped into his stomach. “You don’t have to bribe me with dragons, Drake. I enjoyed meeting your friend Jenet. She’s lovely. But I have met other dragons before. One in particular, in fact.” She stopped walking and turned to face him, true regret in her gaze this time. “I’m lunching with his knight tomorrow, so it wouldn’t be fair to encourage you.”

  “You’re involved with a knight?” Drake felt his stomach lurch once more as anger stirred. She couldn’t be involved with a knight. Not when he’d given up his chance at that life in favor of his own road. It just wasn’t fair.

  Krysta shrugged. “A little. I met him a few days ago and we’ve shared one other meal. He’s a cautious man.” Her chin lifted. “And I’m a very cautious woman.”

  Drake lifted one hand to touch her hair. “A very beautiful woman as well.” His words were soft as he drew closer, unable to keep from kissing her. She didn’t move away, so he pressed his suit, dipping his head to touch his lips to hers. The kiss started out as a calm salute, but quickly escalated to a conflagration as he drew her into his arms.

  Drake counseled himself to slowness, but his body wanted nothing more than to ravish her. But that wouldn’t do. This woman was a warrior, a Guardswoman. She deserved respect. He’d never had a problem controlling himself with women in the past, but Krysta was different. From almost the moment he’d seen her, she’d called to him in a basic, yet complex, way. He wanted her. On many different levels. But he’d deal with the physical first.

  She was fire in his arms, soft, womanly and full of spirit as she returned his kiss fully and eagerly. Drake pressed further, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, learning her taste and feel, delighting in the soft whimper that sounded in her throat as he swept his hands down her body, gripping the soft globes of her perfect ass and pulling her against his hardness.

  Krysta moved into him as if she’d been made for him, but this had to stop. They were in the middle of a public street and people were waiting for them both to get on with their work. Drake drew back, little by little, though it was one of the hardest things he had ever done. He was breathing hard, just from her kiss, and his cock was as hard as a pike.

  The woman packed a punch in more than one way. Drake was gratified to see the sleepy, sensuous look in her eyes as he moved back. She swayed a bit as he held her upright and a grin split his mouth. She was as affected as he was. That was something at least.

  “Tell me your knight makes you feel like that and I’ll leave you in peace.”

  Her eyes cleared abruptly, and she pulled away.

  “I can’t tell you that because he hasn’t kissed me yet.”

  Drake didn’t like that “yet”. If he had his way, the unknown knight would never get a chance to kiss her at all.

  “Have lunch with me tomorrow.”

  “I can’t. I made a promise to Sir Mace.”

  “Mace?” Drake cursed inwardly. He should have known. Any woman he found attractive just had to be spoken for by his childhood friend and rival. And it figured the bastard was a knight now, to boot.

  “You know him?”

  Drake paced away a bit, trying to hold his tongue. “I knew him as a child. We grew up together.”

  “Why do I get the idea you weren’t friends?”

  She saw too clearly, but he didn’t want to leave her with the wrong impression. Drake sighed. “We were friends, but I did resent him. Mace was always so perfect, so predictably warrior-like. My father held him up as an example to me more than once and I grew to hate the phrase, ‘Why can’t you be more like Mace?’”

  “Oh, that’s awful.” Krysta placed her hand on his arm, and Drake’s spirits lifted a bit.

  “Awful enough that you’ll break your date with him and have lunch with me instead?” He waggled his eyebrows with a teasing grin though he knew her answer already.

  Krysta chuckled. “It wouldn’t be right. But—” Drake sensed an opening, but waited to hear what she’d propose. “I suppose I could have dinner with you. I’m not working tomorrow. It’s my weekly day off.”

  Drake cursed fate once more. “I’m promised to my parents for dinner tomorrow night
and I can’t postpone again. I haven’t eaten in their home in fifteen years and this promises to be a rather…difficult occasion, or I’d invite you to join us. Hell…” he ran an impatient hand through his shoulder-length hair, “…I’d love for you to come just to act as a buffer between me and them, but that’s the coward’s way out.” He sighed. “I may be many things, but never a coward.”

  She smiled and the look in her pretty eyes was kind. “I’ve heard that about you, Drake, and I respect your reasoning. Perhaps another time.”

  “When?” He pounced verbally as she turned to go once more. “How about breakfast the day after tomorrow? Before you have to be at work.”

  She laughed as she moved off down the dimly lit street. “If you’re up at dawn, meet me at Pritchard’s Inn on the High Road in Castleton. All right?”

  Drake whistled through his teeth as he watched her walk off. “It’s a date, sweetheart. You can count on it.”

  “I won’t hold my breath, but if you do show up, I won’t throw you out either.”

  Drake watched her walk away, enjoying the sway of her hips and remembering the feel of her generous curves in his hands. She was explosive in his arms and he looked forward to feeling more of her fire. But first he had a job to do.

  When she was out of sight, he turned back to the tavern and collected himself before entering. He could hear a lot of talk about the dragon now seated comfortably under one flap of the huge tent. People were throwing apples to Jenet as he entered, and she caught them in midair with a resounding chomp that seemed to delight the crowd made up mostly of newly arrived Jinn.

  “Enjoying yourself, milady?” Drake couldn’t help but tease her. Like him, Jenet had always loved to be the center of attention wherever she went. Being such an odd, lustrous color had a lot to do with her notoriety of course, but her sweet, outgoing nature was just as important in her popularity with humans and dragons alike.

  “These apples are tasty,” she agreed as she plucked another one out of midair.

  Drake went to the bar and retrieved his lute from Devyn, taking a moment to unpack it from its traveling case and tune the strings. As usual, the crowd became aware of the imminent entertainment, and he heard whispers as his name made the rounds of the tables. The excitement level in the room rose a notch as he moved to the space cleared next to Jenet. It was clear these folk weren’t entirely comfortable with her in the room and had left her a wide area that was just perfect for his stage.

  Shocking the assembly with his audacity, Drake seated himself on Jenet’s bent knee, close in near the sinuous column of her neck. No one but Devyn knew of their prior relationship, and Drake trusted the older man not to speak of it unless he was specifically told it was all right to do so.

  He wanted to make the Jinn more aware of the gentle side of dragons. Introducing them to Jenet like this and showing them how friendly she could be would go a long way toward easing their minds about the non-human citizens of their newly chosen land. Having a good working relationship between dragonkind and Jinn would be important in the days to come. Especially if the Jinn decided to stay in Draconia permanently, which was looking more and more like their intent.

  Drake started with a few runs on his lute, limbering up his fingers and teasing the audience to silence with the soft music. Jenet’s ears perked up and a toothy grin lit her dragonish face. It was an expression Drake knew well, though it was unlikely anyone else in the room was able to read the face of a dragon as well as he.

  When the room fell silent, Drake began to sing. All his songs that night were for Jenet. He’d written many over the years with her in mind, and tonight she would hear them all. He’d stored up fifteen years’ worth of tunes that he wanted to share with her, some that had become famous throughout the Five Lands he’d called home for far too long.

  The crowd recognized many of the tunes and clapped or tapped their feet along with his rhythm. A few other Jinn musicians even found enough courage to approach the cleared area around Jenet and set up their instruments to join in.

  After twenty minutes, Drake had a regular little band formed, complete with drums, pipes, flute and another lute as well as a young girl with a bell-like voice who sang clear, pure harmony with him. The tavern was packed to capacity and all within were clearly enjoying the rare talent of the Jinn musicians as they performed songs Drake had written and made famous.

  Drake sang for Jenet, and she seemed to love every moment of it. He could tell by her sparkling eyes and mobile facial features when a poignant line in one of his songs touched her tender heart, or when one of his little musical jokes struck her funny bone. The other musicians became more at ease with her presence as well, as did the inn’s patrons, though few dared go any nearer than just a few feet away from her scaled body.

  “So what do you think?” Drake couldn’t help but ask after the first few songs. Jenet had been surprisingly quiet, listening intently, judging by the slight mobility of her ears.

  “You were always gifted, Drake, but you are world-class now. I’ve heard some of these songs before. Traveling minstrels have played them for us in the castle from time to time, but I had no idea…I mean… You wrote them, didn’t you?”

  Drake felt a little uncomfortable. Jenet was never hesitant in her speech, except when she was emotionally overwrought. He didn’t want to be responsible for making her sad or upset. He answered carefully. “Yes, I wrote most of them, sweetheart.”

  “Oh, Drake!” Jenet took a moment, raising her head a bit as she shifted just slightly. Drake knew it was a sign of her distress, and his heart seized.

  “What is it, honey? You know you can tell me anything.”

  Her jeweled eyes rolled back down to meet his gaze. “You’re even more famous than I thought you were, aren’t you? You truly have a life in the lands beyond. Without me.” Her tone was flat, somewhat defeated, and Drake hated the sound of it, but was powerless to contradict the truths she spoke. “I’m so proud of you, Drake. I knew no matter where you went or what you did, you’d succeed, though I often wished I’d been able to go with you on your adventures. But a dragon’s place is here, in Draconia. No matter how many times I contemplated flying off to find you, our parents reminded me it just wasn’t that simple.”

  “Oh, baby. I wish you could’ve come with me too. But I had to do it on my own. I had to learn who I was, outside of the duty I could never fulfill. I had to make my own way.”

  “I’m sorry you saw it that way, Drake. Truly.”

  The crowd cheered as the instrumental tune they were playing came to an end, and Drake moved quickly into the introduction for a new song. He couldn’t win this argument with his words, but perhaps he could express his feelings in one of the many songs he’d written over the years to explain the things he’d learned on the lonely road he’d chosen. The other musicians followed his lead and some of the crowd seemed to recognize the opening bars of one of his most poignant tunes. Sighs met the first clear notes of his voice as he sang the opening bars.

  And he sang his song, “The Golden Beauty”, finally, for the dragon he’d written it for, all those years ago.

  When the song ended, the crowd was hushed for a long, sweet moment while the last clear notes rang through the room. Then a cheer erupted, louder than all that had come before, and coins were tossed toward the wide-brimmed hat one of the other musicians had placed on the floor in front of the make-shift group.

  “‘The Golden Beauty’ isn’t about a human woman, Jenet.” Drake wanted her to know the truth. “I wrote that song—and many others—just for you.”

  Jenet sighed, a fine mist of cinnamony smoke wafting into the air above their heads as Drake saw her struggle with her emotions. When she reached down to butt him in the chest with her snout, soft chuckles came from a few in the crowd, but when a single, magical tear leaked from her eye to land in his palm, the crowd was silenced. This was magic. True magic, in their midst.

  The dragon gifted him with the rarest of the rare—a tiny
bit of her magic made real—a gem of the finest quality. A fire opal that flashed like the faceted fire in her eyes.

  Drake was very conscious of the crowd sharing this special moment with them. He was still the Spymaster of the Jinn, and he had a reputation to uphold.

  He displayed the rare gem, holding it up to the crowd. “A kingly gift for a poor troubadour.” Drake stood and bowed low to the dragon. “I thank you, Lady Jenet, from the bottom of my heart.”

  Jenet bowed her head as well. “You play nicely to the crowd, Drake. I loved your song. Almost as much as I love you.”

  “And I you, sweetheart. No matter where I go or what I do, you are always in my heart.”

  Chapter Five

  Mace was a handsome fellow, if a bit quiet. Krysta had taken to him right away and enjoyed the solid camaraderie of the knight who seemed wise beyond his years. She guessed he was about the same age as she, but his eyes seemed older somehow. Perhaps, she thought not for the first time, there was some truth to the rumors about knights and how they stopped aging when they bonded with their dragon partners.

  It was a well-known fact in Castleton that the royal family and the dragon knights outlived other people by many years, if they weren’t killed in battle first. There was a price to pay for the added years—if you lived to see them. The price was a life-long duty to the dragons and the land named for them. A life-long promise to protect and serve Draconia’s inhabitants.

  But the trade off wasn’t too bad. Increased lifespan and a dragon to call friend and partner. No, Krysta thought that was a pretty good deal, and if she’d been born male and had the ability to bespeak dragons, she’d pray to the Mother Goddess every night to grant her a dragon partner of her own. As it was, Krysta was female and not of this land she’d come to call home. It was highly unlikely she would discover a rogue gift of dragon speech at this late date, and even if she did, women were never chosen to be knights, no matter how skilled with a sword.