He’s still out. How long is this supposed to last, exactly?
I move to his arms and tug on them again, frantically, fervently hoping that he’s somehow become two hundred pounds lighter in the last few minutes. No dice. I keep trying, because I refuse to be helpless. I just need the right leverage?—
“Mom? Are you still out here?”
Shit. I stand in the rain like a guilty weirdo as my teenage daughter arrives, pulling the hood of her jacket over her head. She sprints across the wet parking lot towards us, then skids to a halt at the sight of Murr prone and naked on the ground. “What happened?”
“Um.” What do I tell my daughter? She’s too old for ‘adult stuff’ to work as an answer. “He passed out and I can’t wake him up.”
“He passed out?” Rabbit’s voice raises an octave, and she moves to his side, kneeling. She checks his pulse. “What happened? What were you guys doing?”
“Nothing,” I say defensively.
She eyes him and then turns her face up, giving me a suspicious look. “Why is he naked if you weren’t doing anything?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I blurt out, moving to Murr’s head. “Grab one of his arms and help me pull him inside.”
“We can’t just drag him across the concrete! He’ll get all torn up!”
“Then get a blanket and we’ll roll him onto it and drag him inside.”
Twenty minutes later, we’ve dragged my dragon husband, face down, under an awning. His golden butt stares up at us almost as accusingly as my daughter’s face. Rabbit waits for me to speak, and when I don’t, she puts her hands on her hips. “So.”
“Should we turn him over?” I ask, bending over him and fussing with his hair. It’s fluffy when it’s dry and windblown. Wet hair is so much longer and drapes all over his face, which has to bother him on some level, right?
“Absolutely not, and this view is bad enough,” Rabbit says. “Did you kill him, Mom?”
“What? No!” I jerk back to my full height. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’ve got a big nasty bite on your neck? Do we need to hide the body? Because I know Aggie will be down.” My daughter leans in conspiratorially. “Dottie might need a bit more convincing.”
I put my hand over the incriminating bite. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it?”
Oh god. Not the conversation I wanted to have with my daughter right now. I manage a weak smile. “When a man and woman love each other very, very much?—”
“Nope!” Her hands go up in the air. “I’ve heard enough!”
Rabbit turns and walks inside.
CHAPTER 64
MURR
I wakeup with my face in a damp blanket. I am in my two-legged form, but there is no Dakota in my arms. Mentally, I reach out for her, hoping against hope that I’ll feel the brush of her mind to mine. That we’ll have the link that all mates do. But there is nothing, and I feel a vague sense of disappointment, even though this was expected.
As I sit up, I realize I’m no longer in the parking lot. Not in the same spot. I’ve been moved from the spot where I had Dakota seated atop the rusting car. I’m in front of the bookstore now, near the doors and safely under the overhang. The fire is out and rain pours down in rivulets that spatter onto the ground a short distance away. I don’t see Dakota, and yet her scent is everywhere.
There’s a crash around the side of the building, and Dakota comes rushing over. She’s wearing a strange black plastic sack over her body with a hole cut out for her face, and she rustles as she moves to my side. “You’re awake! Oh, thank goodness.”
Did…did she sense that I was awake?
She kneels down next to me, and her scent is layered and complex and wondrous—she smells like a more vivid version of herself. It’s mine mixed with hers, and it feels sorightthat I pull her into my arms. I nuzzle at her throat, seeking the bite I left there earlier and am pleased to find that it remains closed, the heat of it throbbing against my tongue.
Dakota squeals as I tug her into my lap and rip the plastic monstrosity off of her. “Murr! Are you all right? I didn’t know how long you’d be out.”
“Good,” I tell her, rubbing my nose against the spot just below her ear that has been revealed. “Murrgoodgood.”
