As the road sloped even further, I could see the water even through the dark of the evening. At that point, Alex turned to the right into what appeared to be a giant parking lot guarded by three toll booths. He pulled up to one that had an OPEN sign on it and smiled at the woman in the booth. “Two passengers besides me. Heading for the Clinton Ferry.”
“Eighteen fifty, please.” She took his credit card, swiped it, and then handed it back. “Next sailing is in fifteen minutes. Park in Lane B, please.”
We eased into the lane, which was empty, parking up at the front. Lane A was full. Across the street from us was an Ivar’s, and to the right of the restaurant, the Silver Cloud Inn, directly on the water’s edge. To the left, beyond Lane A, was an intersection. Left of the intersection was an alehouse and what looked like another hotel. The road leading straight ahead jogged around Ivar’s to lead to the ferry terminal. The ferry was in, and they were unloading the last of the cars and foot traffic from the sailing.
Alex turned off the engine. “They’ll probably start boarding us in five minutes. They tend to be fairly prompt on the sailing times. There are bathrooms aboard, so unless you have to pee really bad right now, stay in the car.”
“I went before we left.” Ralph’s nose was still buried in whatever he was reading.
I strained to catch a glimpse of the water but from here, the buildings and other cars blocked my view. “How long is the trip?”
“This run? Not very long. Fifteen minutes . . . maybe twenty. It’s not as long as some of them.” Alex grinned at me. “You’re excited. I can tell.”
“Well, yeah.” I paused, then ducked my head, returning his smile. “You don’t know what it’s like, being a water dragon stuck in a city. At least Seattle’s on Puget Sound, but I haven’t gotten up the courage to find an area where I can dive in and shift form. I’m just . . . a little out of my element still. In more ways than one.”
Alex nodded. His voice softened. “Well, when we get back home after this trip, I promise you, we’ll find a safe place for you to swim. I know several private coves where you can probably find water deep enough.” The way his voice curled around the words made me think he was offering me more than just a friendly outing.
I glanced at him sideways, trying to gauge just what to say with Ralph in the car. Flickering my eyes toward the backseat, I hoped Alex would catch my drift. “You like to swim, then?”
He held my gaze for a moment, then slowly inclined his head as though he understood my meaning. “You might say that. When I was alive, I was a fairly good swimmer. I had to learn early on. What say we talk this over later?” Again, the smooth caress of his voice over the words, and my stomach took a leap into my throat.
“I think . . . I’d like that.” A shiver ran down my back as I wondered what I was getting myself into, but my mouth seemed to have a mind of its own, and right now it was slamming the door on the CAUTION sign flashing desperately in the back of my mind.
“Good girl.” Alex turned the key and started the ignition. “We’re about ready to roll.”
The ferry guard—I wasn’t sure what his full title was—had motioned for people to start their engines. He was blocking off traffic in the street as he motioned for the cars in Lane A to file through to the ferry terminal. Before long, we joined the queue. As we drove onto the ferry, we ended up next to the edge on the lower level.
Alex turned off the ignition and motioned to the railing. “Come on. Let’s take a walk around the boat. Ralph, you want to join us?”
“Nope, I’ve got my book.” Ralph seemed oblivious, immersed in whatever was on his e-reader. Both Ralph and Alex were big readers, and while I was getting used to the format—in the Dragon Reaches, we read but for different reasons—I hadn’t really connected with the concept of storytelling yet. But it was growing on me.
I opened my door and stepped out. The ferry was huge, but apparently there were bigger ones that traveled through these waters. I crossed to the side of the ferry, stepping up on the wide side step and leaning on the railing. Alex joined me.
“How many cars does this boat carry?”
“Over a hundred cars. There’s an elevator to the main cabin, and bathrooms on both levels. Do you want to go up to the cabin to watch from there?” He stared out over the water as the ferry began to chug its way out into the Sound.
I thought about it, then shook my head. “I’d rather stay here. Feel the wind on my face and smell the water, you know.”
The side of the ferry was low enough so that you could stand against it, leaning on the rail, and watch over the water. I stared out into the darkness, all too aware of Alex’s presence beside me. But then the glint of the water shone under the lights of the boat and the gentle rocking caught me up. I loved the feeling of motion. I loved dancing, running, swimming, sex, anything that set my body to moving. The waves were so close that I could almost touch them, and the feeling of deep water—not ocean deep, but deep enough—rushed over me like a wave. As the ferry chugged across Puget Sound, I stood rapt, caught in the soothing embrace of the Water Mother’s song.
My nostrils flared as I caught the scent of kelp and brine. I leaned forward, staring at the ripples of water that rolled beneath the boat, longing to spread my arms wide and dive so deep that I never needed to come up. The water was a sensuous lover, all-embracing, all-encompassing. It strengthened me and made me feel whole. Inhaling deeply, I straightened my shoulders, feeling my energy rise from the close proximity.
“Shimmer?” Alex’s voice intruded, low and sultry.
I turned to find him staring at me. “Alex . . . ?” I slid my hand along the rail toward him. The air felt so thick it was like breathing vapor.
He held my gaze as he reached out to place his hand over mine, his skin cold as ice, cold as the depths, cold as river wine running down my throat on a hot summer evening. I sucked in a deep breath and shifted as a gnawing hunger began racing up through my body, between my legs, into my breasts. I let out a low growl and stepped closer as he tightened his grip around my fingers.
“Please return to your cars . . .” The voice interrupted, echoing through the loudspeakers.
Startled by the intrusion, I let out a low curse. Alex licked his lips, but then let out a faint laugh.
“Time enough, love. There will be time enough.” And with that, he let go of my hand. “Come, we have to get back in the car.”
Grumbling, I followed him back. As I fastened my seat belt, I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. Blue dragons aren’t just emotional, we’re also the most sensual of all dragons. We like sex and a lot of it, in all forms and aspects. My love life had been difficult. Being outcaste was akin to being undesirable and I’d spent a lot of time alone, not by choice. As I forced myself to relax, it hit me. I’d as good as told Alex I wanted to hook up with him.
Ralph seemed oblivious, still absorbed by the book he was reading. Alex gave me one last glance as the lights of the Clinton pier appeared. He winked at me, and I let out a sigh, but grinned in return.
As we disembarked, we drove onto what turned out to be a continuation of Highway 525 from over on the mainland, I reluctantly watched the water disappear behind us.
The town of Clinton, on Whidbey Island, was more a pit stop than anything else, and the Coupeville to Port Townsend ferry terminal was a good half hour away. It was fully dark by now, and though the rain had let up, there wasn’t much to see along the way except the road in the sweep of the Range Rover’s headlights. I glanced back at Ralph, who had put away his e-reader and was now staring out the window, a thoughtful look on his face.
“You okay?”
He nodded. “Full moon was night before last. I’m still feeling a mild hangover. I went out to one of the pack’s sanctuaries and ran all night long.”
“What pack do you belong to?” At one point, Ralph had mentioned it, but I couldn’t remember right now.
“Technically, I belong to the Glacier Peak pack, although my family belongs
to an urban offshoot. But most of my relatives belong to the GPs. Our sanctuary is near Monroe, and we welcome werewolves from a number of different clans. The only rules are: One, you respect others, and two, the Glacier Peak pack makes the rules.” He let out a sigh.
“I expected werewolves to be more . . . insular.” From what I’d heard, werewolf clans were usually up there with dragons for hierarchy and kowtowing.
He shrugged. “We’re different—at least my family’s subgroup—in that we’ve broken a lot of traditional mores for werewolves. We have an alpha, yes, but women have full status in our pack, and we are making use of technology to keep track of our members. We also have a strong internal behavioral monitoring program to keep an eye out for troublemakers, and we get them into therapy when it’s deemed likely they can be helped.”
“The modern world of humans has certainly shifted things for all of us.” I leaned back against the headrest. “Alex, what about the vampires? I never thought to ask if you’re aligned with anybody.”
“Well, the big chief around here is Roman. He’s Blood Wyne’s son—she’s the vampire queen, if you didn’t know that. And Blood Wyne is determined that vamps make inroads into being accepted in society. The Seattle Vampire Nexus is all about streamlining vampire-human relations. I finally joined even though I didn’t want to. Menolly D’Artigo knew about me, and she’s Roman’s consort, although I think it’s more of a business arrangement than anything. She’s married to some werepuma. But if Roman discovered I was running a business without his official authority, I could be subject to expulsion from the area, so I caved and applied for a license. We’re all legal now.”
He sounded slightly disgusted. “I agree we need to learn how to coexist, but I’m not so sure how some humans are going to feel about this as time goes by. It’s one thing when we’re like the circus sideshow acts. Quite another when we buy the house next door and set up shop in the town square.”
“Yeah, that’s why dragons aren’t so out and about. It’s one thing to know your next door neighbor is a werewolf . . . quite another to discover you’re landlord to a dragon who could not only destroy the entire apartment building but eat everybody in it.” I was smart enough to keep my nature under wraps unless I knew I could trust someone. Stacy was used to Supes; she wasn’t threatened. On the other hand, there were enough hate groups around to make us all wary, and they weren’t silent in their opposition to our existence.
We were still debating whether the world was ready for dragons when we arrived at the ferry terminal. But the line was huge—stretching back far along the road.
Alex frowned. “You sure that we’re good to go? Did we just miss the boat? There’s a lot of cars lined up here.”
Uh-oh. Time to confess. “I have to admit, I forgot to check on the sailing times for this ferry, but I figured they’d still have a few this time of night, with commuters and all.”
Alex gave me a long look. “And you didn’t think to say anything before we got here?”
“I’m sorry, okay? Look, there’s one of the ferry guards coming along now.”
A woman dressed in a uniform, sporting a Washington State Department of Transportation badge, was walking up to the driver’s window. Alex rolled it down.
“Good evening, love. Are we in time for the next sailing?” He smiled pleasantly, and I noticed his fangs were retracted.
She nodded at him—and us—and said, “That depends. Do you have a reservation?”
“Reservation?” Alex didn’t sound so happy now. “We need a reservation for a ferry trip?”
She shrugged. “I’m sorry, but we always recommend reservations on this run. We run an average of eighty-five percent booked, and the remaining slots, if any, are first come, first served. I can guarantee you that you won’t make this sailing, or even the next two. They’re booked solid and the overflow from the waiting line here will fill them both up before you get near the boat. You might make the last sailing if you stay in line.”
I wanted to slide under my seat. How could I have made such a stupid mistake?
Alex cleared his throat. “You’re sure? We need to make it to Port Townsend tonight.”
She nodded. “You can wait, but it might be quicker if you return to Mukilteo, drive down to Edmonds, then take the ferry over to Kingston. You can drive up to Port Townsend from there. At the worst, you’ll probably get there at the same time as you would if you just parked here and waited.”
Alex thanked her and rolled up his window. He turned to me. “Shimmer . . .”
I blushed again. “I’m sorry! I screwed up. I admit it, but there’s not much I can do about it now.”
“Of all the idiotic . . .” He let out a low growl, but it wasn’t really a threat—I had heard him use it often enough when dealing with Glenda.
I let out a snort. “Oh, stuff it. You could have checked yourself.”
“Check myself? All right, love, but remember, it was your idea.” Again, the smart-assed grin and he reached for his crotch, stopping as I swatted at his hand.
“Stop that!”
He laughed.
I shook my head. “Fine, fine, it’s all my fault. So, what do you want to do? Stay here or backtrack?”
He glanced back at Ralph, who was wisely keeping out of it. “What do you think?”
“Not my call—I’m just along for the ride.” Ralph kept up his stance as Switzerland.
“All right, then. I don’t feel like twiddling my thumbs on a possible chance of getting aboard a ferry tonight, so we’re going to go back to Edmonds and take the ferry to Kingston like she suggested.”
As he pulled out of the waiting line and we headed back the way we’d come, I decided to join Ralph for a strategic game of keep-my-mouth-shut. While Alex didn’t seem all that angry, he definitely wasn’t amused and given the shift between us, I figured silence was golden.
• • •
Not quite two hours later, we were in Edmonds, looking for the ferry terminal. Numerous construction projects and roadwork signs led us on a merry chase, but Ralph managed to navigate us around the chaos thanks to his GPS, and we lucked out by pulling into the terminal just in time to drive right onto the ferry. No waiting.
Ferry ride, take three.
By then, it was ten thirty. Thank gods the ferries ran late, I thought. Or I’d really have mucked things up. The ride was a little longer than the earlier one, and once again, I stood out on the deck in the chill night, which was misting lightly. The pull was stronger now that the wind and rain had picked up. It quickened my blood and made me long to change shape.
Suddenly, I was aware that, once again, Alex was standing by my side. This time, however, the sparks between us kept themselves at bay.
He leaned on the railing and stared at the water. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. It’s my element. My essence.” I turned to him. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t check the schedule.” I didn’t like mucking things up. All my life, I had learned that you screw up—you lose.
Alex shrugged. “Eh, it happens. Just a simple mix-up in the scheme of things. But next time, make certain you do the work. This time? It doesn’t really matter. We’ll be there late, but we’ll get there. But . . . when others are counting on you to come through, forgetting your assignments can lead to disaster. You’ve never really had a job where you were part of a team, have you?” He glanced sideways at me.
“Teamwork? When you’re an outcaste? Not so much. At the Lost and Foundling, it was every dragonette for herself. Survival depended on trusting yourself and only yourself. The wardens didn’t care whether we lived or died, to be honest. They trained us, but if we fucked up, it was on our heads. And if you trusted somebody, chances were they’d double-cross you because the ones who did the best got the most food and the fewest beatings. Once I was on my own . . . I walked away and didn’t look back. I’ve never had to learn how to work with anybody before.” I shivered, remembering those hardscrabble days. “I swore nobody would e
ver get a leg up on me if I could help it. I guess . . . I’m used to fending for myself. I won’t fail you again.”
“You’ll pick it up. Just remember: Do the work and when you need help, ask. When you screw up, tell me first thing. Everything will be all right.” He reached out to gently wipe the rain—which was now slashing down against us—out of my eyes. Grateful for his understanding, I leaned my cheek against his palm and he traced his fingers down my cheek. “We’ll be pulling into the dock soon. From there, it’s a hop, skip, and a jump up to Port Townsend.” But as he turned, he paused.
I had the feeling he wanted to say something else. “What is it?”
“Just this. The Olympic Peninsula is home to a lot of spirits. Not all of them are ghosts. Dragon or not, you don’t want to be running around without somebody with you. Don’t wander off alone when we get there. Take Ralph with you if it’s daytime, and me when it’s night. Trust me, it’s not a place you want to tangle with. The forest is ancient, and very much alive.”
As he spoke, it was as if I could feel the presence of the approaching land descend around us. I looked up to see that we were pulling into the terminal. And right then, an overwhelming feeling of otherness hit me. Alex was right, this was not a place to get lost from the pack, as Ralph would say. Because even if you were the odd person out, I had the distinct feeling that you wouldn’t ever be alone. And right then, I knew that some of the beasties out there had a razor’s edge to them—sharp, shiny, and waiting to slice open a vein.
CHAPTER 4
The drive up the inner side of the peninsula left me breathless, even in the dark. Ralph was feeling it, too. He let out a noise suspiciously like a whine as he pressed his nose against the window. As we pulled away from the dock and onto Highway 104, the energy settled in, and the moment we passed the cross street of Lindvog Road, a brooding sense of watchfulness took over.
Alex seemed immune, but still, he totally focused in on driving, as if he was trying to tune out anything that might be a distraction. Ralph, however, shifted pensively in the backseat. He’d stowed his phone and iPad and silently stared out the window. I turned to watch the trees passing by. Now and then, there would be a spate of houses—usually on large lots or acreage—between the stands of forest.