“I knew it,” Gary whispered. “I fucking knew you were sort of creepy in a sweetly romantic way and did things that most people would consider ridiculous. You went in disguise to a fan club for Ryan. Who does that?”
“Lovey Sam is creepy Sam,” Tiggy agreed.
“I’m also a Foxy Lady,” I told everyone even though I wanted to do anything but. “And then Ryan gave me his autograph thinking I was Mervin and he said he was a Sam Girl and I went home that night and put it under my pillow. And I’ve been to at least thirty meetings and I wish I wasn’t saying any of this out loud. So bad.” I tried to close my mouth, but I couldn’t help but add, “HaveHeart forever!”
“I think this is getting out of hand,” Eloise said. “Why don’t we—”
“I knew that was you,” Ryan said. “Okay, well I didn’t. But I did.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” I told him. “But that’s okay. You don’t need to make sense because I’ll still lo—no.” I looked back at Eloise. “You don’t get to have that. You don’t get to take that from me.”
I tried to pull my magic toward me, and on the edges of my vision, the green and gold fluttered. I stood, pushing my chair back.
“Sit down,” Eloise said.
I opened my mouth to tell her to fuck off and then torch this whole fucking village, but instead, I sat down.
“No magic,” she said.
The green and gold flitted away as if they were never there at all.
“I seriously despise you,” I said truthfully.
She didn’t give a damn. “The scorch marks,” she said. “Near the tree the fire geckos lit.”
“Lightning from Dark wizards,” I said. “I took their magic and made it my own.”
I thought that would instill the fear of the gods in her, but it only made her cheeks flush and her breath short. “He will be so pleased,” she murmured. “What we have brought to him.”
“Who?”
“Our Great Father,” she said and the people of Tarker Mills bowed their heads in supplication.
“The Great….” I trailed off, my gaze dropping to the sash. Particularly the beast etched near the top. It all clicked into place. “The dragon. You worship the dragon?”
“He descended from on high,” she said as Tarker Mills quietly agreed with her. “He came to us and we knew we’d found our salvation.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. The dragon hasn’t been in Verania that long. How long have you known about it?”
“Fifty-seven glorious days,” Eloise said.
“Fifty-seven days,” I repeated.
“Yes.”
“You turned your entire town into a cult in fifty-seven days.”
“Not a cult,” she snapped. “A religion.”
“Fifty-seven days,” I said. “You built an entire religion in less than two months!”
“You sound impressed.”
“I am impressed,” I admitted. “You must be a special kind of crazy if you can create that kind of idolatry in such a short amount of time.”
She stood swiftly. “I’m not crazy.”
“Kind of crazy,” Gary said.
“A lot crazy,” Tiggy said.
“Crazy and you force-fed your neighbors a compulsion mix,” I said. “Come on. Let me use my magic. You’re a lady and you look like a grandma, but I still want to hit you right now.”
“Do some magic,” Ryan whispered to me, right in my ear. “Slowly. So I can watch.”
“When we get out of here, I’m going to do so much magic all over you,” I told him. “You’re going to be covered in it.” At that moment, I really wished I’d been born mute and had never set eyes on Ryan Foxheart.
“Make it stop!” Gary wailed.
“Yeah. Cover me in your magic.” Ryan was blushing so hard, I thought his face was about to explode. “I want to stop talking. You have no idea how much I want to stop talking.” He leaned closer and I could feel his breath on my face. It smelled of corn and eroticism.
“Um,” Eloise said. “Maybe you guys could—”
We ignored her completely. “I’m going to do so many spells,” I said, because it seemed impossible for me to stop. “You won’t even believe how many spells I can do. Flora Bora Slam, motherfucker.” Our lips were inches apart.
“I want you to Flora Bora Slam me,” Ryan said and I just choked.
“Therapy,” Gary said. “I’m going to need so much therapy. It’s like watching cows mating and it’s wet and sticky and uncomfortable but I can’t look away because I’m worried some of it is going to get on me.”
“We’re not cows,” I growled at him.
“I’m not very good at metaphors,” Gary said. “I try to be, but I’m not. It’s something I wish I could be better at. I would also like to learn how to tap dance and make macramé art because I think I’m not worldly enough.”
“You think macramé is worldly?”
Apropos of nothing, Tiggy said, “I love chicken. And turtles. And the sky. And shoes.”
Gary narrowed his eyes at me. “Yes, Sam. I’m sorry if it’s not up to your standards of wanting to cover Ryan with your magic.”
“That sounds so awesome,” Ryan breathed, and I was going to kiss him. I was going to fucking kiss him and—
“Except you have a fiancé,” Gary said and that pretty much brought about the end of any thoughts about kissing I might have had.
Ouch.
I pulled my head away. “You love Justin,” I said as my heart clenched. “You love him and want to marry him and have his babies and live in a castle and suck on his dick in the moonlight as he calls you things like babycakes and lovebone.”
Lovebone? Eloise mouthed to herself.
He shook his head adamantly. “No, Sam. Listen. It’s not like that. It’s—”
“Enough,” Eloise snarled. “No more talking.”
We both fell silent. We had no other choice. Ryan looked stricken, like all he wanted to do was talk more, to finish his sentence, but the compulsion we were under was powerful and we could only do what Eloise told us.
“Now,” she said, “where were we? Ah, yes. The offering.”
And I just knew she was about to start monologuing, but I could do nothing to stop it. If looks could kill, though, her head would have been severed from her body the moment she opened her mouth.
But apparently Eloise wasn’t in the mood to monologue and instead got right down to business. “The Great Father will be here soon enough. We mustn’t keep him waiting. Michael, Frank. Would you be so kind as to escort the apprentice to the altar? He has a date with a god.”
Two very large men stood up from farther down the table and started stalking toward me. I tried to do something, anything to stop them, but whatever mixture they’d overdosed us on was stronger. Gary, Tiggy, and Ryan were fighting against it too, and as the men grabbed me by the arms, my eyes met Ryan’s. Sweat tricked down his brow as he tried to move. There was fear in his eyes, but it wasn’t for himself. It was meant for me and I wondered, for just a moment, what things could have been like now that we were forced to be open to each other.
I wondered what would have happened.
Then I was struck upside the back of my head and all I knew was dark.
CHAPTER 20
The Sexually Aggressive Dragon
WHEN I came to, I was aware of three things:
First, I had a bitch of a headache.
Second, I hated corn and Tarker Mills with a passion.
Third, Ryan Foxheart wanted to sex me up.
I opened my eyes and became aware of two more things.
I was tied to a post in the middle of a valley on a stone altar with heavy chains wrapped around my chest, arms pinned to my sides.
And I was alone.
“Motherfucker,” I muttered.
Maybe I did get captured too much.
I still felt sluggish and heavy, the compulsion elixir still running through me.
Which
was just peachy.
I hadn’t been out that long, though. The sun was still high in the sky. There were fat white clouds above and bright green grass below. A soft breeze blew through my hair. It smelled sweet. It would have been relaxing had I not been chained to a sacrificial altar and the fact that I did not smell sweet. Apparently, at some point during my unconsciousness, I’d been sprayed with what tasted like some kind of meat juice (what I hoped was some kind of meat juice and not the pheromones taken from the anal glands of a yak) that I’m sure was supposed to make me more appetizing to any large predators that wanted to eat me.
I wondered just how many people Eloise had done this to.
Or what they were going to do to Gary and Tiggy and Ryan.
I turned my head as far as I could, trying to look behind me. I couldn’t see much as the post was very wide. Just the valley stretched out far.
The altar itself looked brand new, the stone smooth and shining in the sun, and I remembered that technically, there had only been a cult to use such an altar for fifty-seven days, and I gave serious thought to Ryan’s comment that I really did seem to be the common denominator to Verania’s what-the-fuckery.
But then I remembered one time that Morgan had accidentally become an amnesiac bearded lady in a carnival for six months and decided it was more of a wizard thing than a Sam thing.
I felt better after that.
For a couple of minutes at least.
Then I was just bored.
“I’d really like not to be chained in the middle of a field,” I told no one in particular.
Ten minutes later.
“CHEESY DICKS and candlesticks! And everything you need! Listen as I sing a verse or six here in this land of sloth and greed!”
Ten minutes after that.
“HEH. RYAN wants to do me. Sweet.”
Five minutes after that.
“OH MY gods. He wants to do me! What the fuck am I going to do? He’s engaged to the Prince. Everyone is going to find out and I’ll be a home wrecker and I’ll be arrested and thrown in the dungeons and poop in buckets and I won’t ever see the light of day again. All because I couldn’t control my feelings and my erection and I…”
Thirty-four minutes after that.
“…AND WHAT if he gets married and tries to make me his thing on the side? I won’t be a godsdamn dirty secret! I’m a fucking wizard, and I won’t be a strumpet, a warm hole for him to dive into when the frigid Prince doesn’t feel like getting it up. Fuck you, Ryan Foxheart! Fuck you and everything about you! I don’t need this. I was perfectly fine…”
Twenty-six minutes after that.
“…AND YOU can sure as shit bet that if he makes me dress up in a garter belt, I’m going to make him wear one too. I’m not going to let his kinks rule over mine. I want to fuck him while he wears nothing but a—oh. That’s better.”
Because all of a sudden, that heavy, sodden feeling lifted as if it’d never been there at all. I could think clearly. My magic crawled along my skin. I still felt the little tickle at the back of my throat and neck that said obey, obey, obey, but it was starting to fade. It wouldn’t last that much longer.
And now I was just cranky and pissed off.
The chains didn’t appear magicked to bind me in place. There were some halfhearted runes carved into the altar, but they weren’t complete and were done with a novice hand. Suddenly the missing people from around Old Clearing made much more sense. They had to have been taken by Eloise’s cult and placed here as a sacrifice to the dragon. What a bitch.
My hands twitched at my sides as I pushed the green and gold through the metal around my chest and arms. I didn’t even try to speak any ancient earth words. I didn’t have to.
The chains collapsed around me.
I stretched and popped my neck.
Flexed my hands.
“You fucked with the wrong wizard,” I growled, feeling smug with how badass that sounded.
I felt less smug when I took a step, tripped over my feet, and fell off the altar and belly-flopped onto the ground.
“Not okay,” I wheezed, trying to get more air in my lungs as I rolled on my side and curled up into a ball. “I am not okay. Everything hurts. Everything hurts so bad. Just gonna stay here for a while and die. No need to worry about—”
A loud roar echoed across the valley.
“Well fuck me sideways,” I said succinctly and looked north.
Sitting on the rim looking down into the valley was a familiar black dragon. It’d only been a few weeks since I’d seen it last, but I was absolutely positive it’d gotten bigger. And angrier. And maybe it had more teeth with which to eat me.
As I watched, it pushed out its wings, the span of them great and awe-inspiring. Well, it would have been awe-inspiring had I not been the subject of its rapt attention. Now it was just terrifying, and all the bravado I’d built up when the chains fell from me fled rather quickly.
My eyes bulged when it brought down its wings in a harsh push, the grass around its feet flailing in the forced wind. The wings went up and then down again, and the dragon lifted up and off the ground.
And I will admit, though it pains me to do so, that instead of having an awesome one-liner that people would quote for decades to come (You think you can handle me? Fine! Come at me, bro!), I squeaked, “Holy fucking balls of shit,” and tried to stand.
Of course, I tripped again and hit my head against the stone altar and wondered where all those really bright flashing lights had come from.
The ground shook around me as I opened my eyes.
The dragon’s massive head peered down at me. Its nostrils flared as it scented what I was now positive was yak anal gland pheromones because that’s just how things went for me. Its tongue extended, a great forked thing that rubbed against my face, leaving a thick sticky trail in its wake.
“I’ll admit,” I said. “This is not one of the top-ten experiences of my life.”
“Wizard,” the dragon rumbled. “I despise wizards.”
“Yes, yes,” I said. “You don’t like wizards because of my sparkles and my whizbangs.”
The dragon reared its head back. “You can understand me?” he said, voice rough and deep.
I rolled my eyes. “Clearly.”
He shot forward again, snapping his jaws near my face. His breath was hot and wet. Somehow, I managed to keep the squeaking to a minimum. “You’re a pretty thing,” he growled. “But I won’t hesitate to eat you up. Little tasty boy cake you’d be. I’d let you rest on my tongue before I swallowed you whole.”
“That doesn’t sound like fun for anyone,” I managed to say. “I’m all skin and bones. No meat. It’d be a waste of your time. Honestly.”
“How is it you can understand me?” the dragon asked, scraping a giant claw near my side. The grass tore up from the earth, leaving a long dirt gash. “Your kind has never been able to do so before. Tell me, pretty. Tell me before I grow tired of you and start by eating your feet.”
“I don’t know,” I said, and that must have been the wrong answer because his teeth scraped against my dusty boots. “No one knows! I’m just an apprentice.”
“Apprentice,” the dragon scoffed. “Weak little human.”
“Stopped your fire, didn’t I?”
The dragon’s eyes narrowed. “Now I remember you. Your little ice sparkle. You thought yourself so clever. The last time I saw you, you were under a pile of rubble. How is it you survived?”
I shrugged. “It was a weak hit. Maybe don’t forget leg day when you’re working out.”
The dragon hissed. “Shall we find out how weak the hits can be?”
“You think you can handle me?” I said. “Fine! Come at me, bro!”
And once I pulled off that magnificent line, I reached up and punched the dragon in the eye.
“Ow!” it cried as it pulled its head back. “What the fuck did you do that for?”
“Ha!” I crowed as I pushed myself to my feet. “Take that, motherf
ucker!”
“You punched me in the eye.” It shook its head, blinking rapidly.
“Consider it—” I paused dramatically. “—an eye for an eye.” I winced. “Okay, that sounded a lot cooler in my head.”
“I don’t think that would have sounded cool to anyone.” It shook its head, apparently trying to clear its vision.
“Hey!”
“Seriously, though,” it said. “Of all the places to punch, your first thought is to punch an eye. Who does that?”
“You were going to eat me!”
The dragon snorted and a little lick of flame curled out its nose. “I was not, though I’m giving very serious consideration to doing so now.”
“You can’t threaten someone with imminent death and not expect some kind of reaction,” I retorted.
“It’s called posturing,” the dragon said. “It’s what I do. You humans keep showing up in my valley, tying yourselves up for no apparent reason. I come down here, roar a little bit, then break the chains and let them leave. They always run. But nooo. You had to use your tiny little human hands and punch me in the eye.”
“I don’t have tiny hands,” I said, trying to save face. “I’ll have you know, I’ve got big hands. Everyone says so.” No one said that, but he didn’t need to know.
And then it leered at me. “You know what they say about big hands. You big, little wizard?”
“Oh my goodness,” I whispered.
It curled up one of its massive paws into a fist and brought it down next to me. It was almost as tall as I was. “So big,” I breathed.
“You know what they say,” it said, “about big hands.”
“Dude,” I said. “What?” Then, “Oh man. Are you talking about your dick?”