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"Someone else was there with me, I think."
Who?
A fragment of a memory unfurls in my head. "Our son."
Our son? he echoes. His hand splays over my abdomen, and I can feel his mind reaching out and searching. He must find something that satisfies him, because in the next moment, he sighs heavily with contentment. Our son.
I stroke Mhal's hair, trying to follow the flutter of memories. They're receding already, which breaks my heart. I want to see his little face again, to hear his voice, but it's quickly leaving me behind. "He told me his name but I've forgotten it already. It was such a good name, too. Long. You'd like it."
I cannot wait to meet him. Mhal's thoughts are full of emotion.
"Soon, he said. We'd meet him soon." I run my fingers through Mhal's wiry golden hair. "And he said we needed to help the others in the fort."
My drakoni mate tenses against me. Why?
"Because if we don't then there won't be any future." I continue to run my fingers through his hair, comforting him. "But if we go back, we're going to make sure we have the power. And we're going to make sure he knows it."
I like the way you think.
We talk the rest of the night and into the morning. In the end, our plan is simple. We're going back to the fort so I can have the doctor present when I give birth. We're not entirely sure if I'm pregnant yet, but after my dream, if I'm not yet, I will be soon. Any lingering doubts I had are gone after “meeting” my child in my dream.
I want my son at my side. I want a future for him, and if that means I have to go back to the fort temporarily, I will. Mhal and I will go along with Azar's plan for as long as his goal matches ours. We'll sleep in the bed he gives us, and eat his food, and pretend like we're on the same page.
And the moment the Rift is secure and the threat to our world extinguished, we're gone.
Until then, I have plans. Plans for demands that the lord of Fort Dallas will need to fulfill if he wants our help.
35
MHAL
Jenny is calm as she packs the last of our things into bags. She wants to return to the human hive bearing gifts for her friends. She has spent the day filling satchels of small trinkets to bring with us back to the fort—more of the endless plastic mugs she likes, tiny mirrors and soaps, old towels with strange pictures of things called “rollercoasters” printed on them, and most importantly of all, the sewing she has worked on for the last few weeks. Each piece of clothing scavenged from the place below has been cut into squares of fabric, and she has worked hard to create new things out of them. There are several cloaks of bright colors, and blankets of the softer fabrics. There are skirts and several dresses she likes to wear.
She has made clothes for other people, too. I watch as she folds a small cloak into one of the bags. "That one's for Bethany's son, Michael," she tells me. "He always runs around in this torn shirt and I worry he's going to get cold with the weather changing." Her thoughts are fond, but I can feel her concern.
You worry about him. And about her.
Jenny shakes her head. "I want better for her, but she makes bad choices. I don't think she had many to begin with, but I know even if we found a way to get her away from her husband, she'd go back to him anyhow. She feels…loyal, I guess. I don't know if it's love." She sits back on our bed and sighs. "How can you love someone that treats you so awful?"
Shall I eat him?
She turns to me, blinking. "W-what?"
Shall I eat him? I repeat, quite serious. I could pretend to forget myself when in battle-form, which is not such a stretch. You could point him out to me, and I could eat him. Humans are not my favorite food, but it would solve a problem.
Her mouth drops open. "You've eaten people, Mhal?" She's horrified.
I search my mind. I do not recall specific people, but I am sure I have when lost in the madness. You are all bite-sized. It does not mean I will eat you or anyone that is your friend. I shrug when her thoughts continue to roil with troubled sensations. I have viewed myself as being at war with your people for a very long time. Sometimes in war the easiest solution is the best one. It does not mean I will continue to do so, especially not after mating you.
Jenny purses her lips, thoughtful.
I move to my mate's side and sit next to her on the bed. This thought has never occurred to her before now, and she is realizing just how different I am from her. I am very different, I agree. I am drakoni. I have not and never will be human. That does not mean I cannot appreciate and cherish my human mate. I pull her against me, her back settling against my chest. I slide my legs outward and seat myself behind her, curling about her as I would if I were in my battle-form. Unlike my battle-form, though, I can lean in and kiss her soft, fragrant neck. Do you hate me now?
