Light Dragons 01 - Love in the Time of Dragons

human form, leaning over me and cradling my head. “Ysolde! My dove, my cherished one—have I harmed you?”
    Baltic shifted back into human form as well, jerking Constantine off me and onto his back, the glittering silver point of a sword digging into his neck.
    “You have lost your mate, your sept,” Baltic said, panting, “and now your life.”
    “No!” I yelled, leaping up as he raised his sword overhead, clearly about to cleave Constantine’s head from his body. I threw myself forward over him, looking up at Baltic. “Do not kill him.”
    Baltic’s eyes narrowed on me. “You have a change of heart?”
    “No. I will be your mate. My life is bound to yours from this moment forward. But only if you spare Constantine.”
    His jaw worked, and for a moment, I thought he would refuse. But slowly he lowered his sword, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet. “By the grace of my mate, I will let you live,” he told Constantine. “But only because she desires it.”
    The sight of Constantine’s face haunted me as Baltic led me away.

Chapter Eight
    “A fter it’s dehydrated, I take out the natron that is in the inside, and put cloth soaked in resin and more natron inside the body. Then I get to paint the whole thing with resin. That takes, like, three weeks to dry, so I want to get started right away. I think I have enough resin to do the whole fox.”
    “Whether or not you do is moot. I think you’ve spent enough time with your unnatural hobby. I’d like you to make yourself sociable today so May and Gabriel don’t think you’re a ghoulish little boy who is obsessed with dead things.”
    “Dead things are interesting,” he protested.
    “Regardless, I think you can leave your experiments alone for one day and socialize instead. How much?”
    I paid off the taxi driver when he stopped in front of Gabriel’s house. A strange man was at the front door, about to ring the buzzer as Brom and I got out.
    “Hullo,” the man said.
    “Hello.” I gathered up the bags of shopping from the floor of the taxi, eyeing the man as I did so. He had a long face that I thought of as typically English—not too long, but sort of ruggedly handsome—with dark blond hair and bluish grey eyes.
    He examined me just as obviously. “You wouldn’t happen to be Ysolde de Bouchier, would you?”
    I took a deep breath. “My name is Tully Sullivan.”
    “That was going to be my other guess,” he said, laughing. It was a nice laugh. He looked like a nice man, with a bit of a roguish twinkle to his eye, but still, nice.
    “Your husband sent me,” he said, taking me completely by surprise. “Name’s Savian Bartholomew.”
    Nice? He was the devil incarnate!
    “Gareth sent you?” Brom asked. “How come?”
    “You must be Brom. It seems he wants you and your mother kept safe from some very bad dragons until he can come and get you,” Savian said.
    “Eek! Go away!” I said, shoving him toward the taxi.
    “Eh?” he asked, looking confused as he clutched the side of the taxi in order to keep from being pushed inside.
    “The gent want to go somewhere?” the taxi driver asked.
    “Yes! He wants to go far, far away,” I said.
    “I do not! Stop shoving me, or I will be forced to subdue you!” Savian said, struggling when I tried to force his head down so I could push him into the cab.
    “Sullivan, I don’t think that man wants to go anywhere,” Brom commented from his location on the sidewalk.
    “Yes, yes, what the lad said!” Savian squawked as I grabbed his ear and managed to get his head inside. “Help! I’m being kidnapped!”
    “Just the opposite, actually,” I grumbled, grunting as I gave a mighty heave that forced his shoulders in. “Just go already!”
    “Never! Why are you doing this?” he yelled, somewhat muffled since I blocked most of the door with my body in an attempt to get rid of him.
    “Can’t you take a hint, you annoying man? Shoo! I don’t want you!”
    “But your husband—”
    “Is a complete idiot! Now go away before I lose my temper and turn your eyebrows into warts!”
    “The lady is crazy,” I heard him tell the cabdriver in response to his inquiry about what was going on. “I think she fancies me.”
    “I’m a great and . . . urgh . . . powerful mage . . . unph! . . . and I will . . . dammit, let go of the door! . . . I will smite you with all sorts of unpleasant spells.”
    “Help!” Savian said to the taxi driver.
    The man watched him impassively. “I would,