Dragon in the Dark (Kindred Tales)
“What’s that? What did you find?” Iyanna asked hopefully. Her throat felt like sandpaper by now, but she felt she’d rather die of thirst than be left alone where some strange man might find her.
“A wall pad—they’re sometimes used to conceal heating or refrigeration units so they don’t break up the flow of a room’s décor. I thought from the layout of this place and the way it’s decorated they might be hiding their appliances.”
“Appearances must be pretty important to the Lix’dorians if they hide their heaters and refrigerators to avoid making the room look wrong,” Iyanna remarked.
“Looks like it. Let’s see which one this is,” Dra’vik muttered, for a section of the wall had slid to one side, revealing a rectangular gray box, about as high as his waist.
When he opened it, Iyanna saw two rows of square glass bottles. One seemed to hold water—or at any rate, some kind of clear liquid. The other row of bottles held a dark pink drink, which didn’t look good to her at all.
“Is that water?” she asked, pointing to the row of bottles filled with clear liquid.
Dra’vik took one out and thumbed the top off easily. He sniffed it, then took a drink and shrugged.
“Tastes like water to me. Here you go, little girl.” He passed her a bottle which Iyanna took eagerly. She drank half of it in one long swallow, feeling like a plant whose leaves had been curling and brown, finally getting hydrated.
“Ahh…thank you—I needed that,” she sighed at last, blotting her mouth with her long, trailing sleeve.
“Same.” The big Drake had been drinking a bottle of water as well, and now that he had stopped, she could see white tendrils of steam rising from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth.
The sight awed Iyanna and she remembered the darks smoke he had been emitting earlier, when he was so angry.
“Hey, are you actually, er, on fire inside?” she asked uncertainly.
He nodded shortly.
“I have the Fire Breath—I can summon flames if I need to. Or sometimes, if I’m not careful, the Fire can burst out on its own.” He shook his head, his face going dark. “Fucking nearly burned this whole damn place down when I saw what those two bastards were trying to do to you!”
“But you restrained yourself—it’s good you did,” Iyanna told him gravely. “You don’t want to kill innocent people. And speaking of killing people, are you sure you won’t get into trouble for, er, offing that guard?”
The memory of the guard’s purple blood splattering the ground at her feet made her stomach clench and she quickly pushed the image away.
Dra’vik’s eyes flashed at her question.
“They want to bring me up on charges, let them fucking try. I’ll say I was defending my cherished wife!”
“Well, I’m afraid I’m nothing but a ‘pleasure slave’ now—at least until I can get my outfit fixed.” Iyanna looked down at the gaping triangular holes in her crimson jumpsuit. “I just wish I had something else to wear—I feel so exposed like this.”
“I know, little girl—I’m fucking sorry,” Dra’vik growled. “Shoulda thought to try and grab your case when I came for you, but all I could concentrate on was taking you away before I got so damn angry my Fire got away from me.”
“I understand,” Iyanna told him. “In fact—”
But just then there was a knock on the door and a fussy voice called,
“Excuse me, but are you in there Sir Dra’vik? We really must talk.”
TWENTY-NINE
Dra’vik swore under his breath—he knew that voice. It was Master-Doctor Ostensio, the Lix’dorian Minister of Botany. How had the roly-poly little bastard tracked them down and what did he want now?
“Hang on a minute,” he called and then turned to Iyanna. “It’s the Minister of Botany,” he muttered under his breath.
“Shit!” she looked around anxiously, covering her breasts and crotch as well as she could with her arms.
“Here.” Rapidly, Dra’vik unbuttoned his leather vest and handed it to her.
She slipped it on, but it didn’t really help the situation much, since he was so much bigger than her and the neck was cut in a deep V. It still revealed the sides and inner swells of her full breasts, though at least it covered the nipples. To hide her crotch, she crossed her legs modestly and then sat up straight on the couch.
“All right, let him in,” she whispered.
Dra’vik went to the door and pressed the switch to make it slide open. Standing in the doorway was the Minister of Botany, looking very much more flustered than the last time Dra’vik had seen him.
“So there you are!” he exclaimed, striding into the room, his long, scholarly robes swishing around his rotund body. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
“I had to go save my cherished wife from an attack by the fucking guards in your scanning room,” Dra’vik growled.