Light Dragons 03 - Sparks Fly

Thala, as well as the shard. Would you prefer that I prostrate myself before Dr. Kostich, or be forced to make some sort of an agreement that will make me vulnerable to him, and place us in obligation to him?”
    His teeth ground for a few seconds while he thought that over. “I prefer to handle this myself.”
    “I know you do, but Thala is just too powerful when she has all her minions around her, so you need to just let go of some of your animosity toward Constantine, and accept his help.”
    “I do not like your having dealings with the dead one.”
    “I’m dead because I sacrificed myself for Ysolde!” Constantine chimed in.
    “You’re dead because giving your life for hers was the only way you could pay for killing Alexei!” Baltic snarled in return.
    A silence so thick you could cut it with lemon pudding filled the room.
    “You ... Did I hear that right? You killed Alexei?” I stared at the now slightly visible Constantine with stunned disbelief. “Your own wyvern?”
    “I did not,” Constantine said, but he couldn’t look me in the eye. “Your mate, as always, attempts to divert the truth by casting guilt on others. Ask him what happened to Alexei, if you like, but do not expect to hear what really took place. I have better things to do with my time than to stay here and be abused by him. I bid you farewell, my lovely one, for the moment. I will return as soon as I can.”
    He faded away to nothing, and the sense of his being near disappeared, as well.
    I turned slowly to face Baltic.
    “No,” he said, marching past me. “Not now. I am too busy. Another time.”
    “The questions are stacking up; you know that, don’t you?” I called after his retreating form. “I can stifle only so many of them before my head explodes! And if that happens, you’re going to have to clean up the mess. Baltic? Baltic! Drat that dragon! One of these days, he’s going to drive me really insane, and then he’ll be sorry.”

    “The sleeping arrangements leave a whole world to be desired,” Maura said approximately seven hours later when one-handedly she helped me shove a small bed close to a window seat.
    “I’m not thrilled about them, either, Your Royal Pain-in-the-assness,” Savian replied, irritation overriding the dulled glint of pain obvious in his eyes. “And I’d better not catch you ogling my manly form during the night. I’m a very light sleeper, and I’ll know if you try to have your womanly way with me.”
    Maura turned to face him. “Have my womanly way with you? Seriously? Because right now, the only thing I want to do to your manly form is bang it on the head with a very heavy blunt object. And then maybe find a hacksaw.”
    “I told you the handcuffs can’t be sawed apart,” he retorted.
    I fluffed up the pillow on the window seat and made sure the blankets, which Pavel had brought from one of three trips into Riga, were adequate to keep the sleeper from getting a chill.
    “I wasn’t intending on sawing off the handcuffs ,” she answered with an arch look.
    His eyes widened, but the fact that he didn’t retort told much about his physical state. Although a Slavic healer had made the rounds of all the occupants of our house, spending the most time with Holland and Savian, she wasn’t a dragon, and her healing abilities were not as profound as I would have liked. Holland was recovering quite nicely, but Savian was mortal, and thus couldn’t regenerate like the rest of us.
    Despite her veiled threat, Maura helped me get Savian into bed, although he did balk a bit when I tried to undress him.
    “I’d accuse you of wanting to change my nuts to toads again, but I suppose after today, I can trust you with them,” he said, slapping away my hand when I tried to unzip his pants. “However, I can’t say the same for her ladyship.”
    Maura blinked for a second. “You tried to change his testicles to toads?” she finally asked me.
    “No, I just threatened to change them to-never mind; it doesn’t matter. That was months ago, and I’ve long since changed my mind about Savian.”
    “Thank you,” he said wryly.
    “You can’t sleep in those pants,” I told him, gesturing at his legs. “They’re caked in dried blood. Pavel bought some jeans and underwear while he was in town getting the bedding, so at the very least, let me get a clean pair of shorts on you.”
    “I have dressed myself since I was very young, and I do not need any assistance now,” he replied with great