“Do you remember,” I said aeons later when I could do more than just lie in a quivering pool of postorgasmic rapture, “when I used to do this for you?”
He looked down at where I knelt before him, helping him to get the thigh-high boots on. “Yes. Frequently it ended up in lovemaking because you insisted on taking me into your mouth, and that led to me reciprocating, and then I had to love you again, because you were always a demanding woman.”
I bit his knee and started on the other leg. “Why do little snippets of my memories like that come through for me, but the big things, the things I really want to remember, are lost?”
“You have not yet woken your dragon self. Once you do that, your memory will return.” He picked me up and carried me, naked since he hadn’t bothered to collect the bits of clothing I’d strewn for him, into the house. I prayed that Brom was fast asleep.
“Why were you resurrected with your dragon fully awake, but I wasn’t?”
“Questions, questions, always with you it is so many questions,” he said, climbing the stairs without even the least bit of panting. I kissed his neck.
“Here’s a few more: how did you get ahead of me back in the woods and make it sound like you were behind me? Do you by any chance know how to hoot like an owl? And don’t tell me you can’t reveal all your secrets, because then I’ll lose interest in you, because we both know that’s not the least bit true.”
He laughed, opened our bedroom door, and set me on my feet. “I will wash the dirt off my back,” was all he said as he headed for the shower in the attached bathroom.
“That’s what you get for knocking me down.” I picked a few leaves from my hair. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you haven’t answered my questions, not that I really believe you can hoot like an owl, because that’s not at all your style, but still, you could tell me how you sounded like you were behind me and were really in front of me.”
The sound of running water was my only answer. I climbed into bed, smoothing down the sheets, waiting until the water stopped. After a few minutes of silence, I glanced at the slightly open bathroom door. “Baltic? Are you there?”
An owl hooted.
From the bathroom.
That rat!
Chapter Eleven
“Akashic League of Great Britain. How may I direct your call?”
“I’d like to book the services of a Summoner, please. One who is familiar with dragons.”
Brom, bearing a shovel and a plastic bag, marched past where I was sitting in the morning sun on the east patio, and disappeared into the shrubbery.
“Er . . .” The woman on the other end of the phone was clearly taken aback by my request. “Dragons?”
“Yes. Do you have someone who can summon a dragon spirit?”
“I . . . I don’t know. I don’t think anyone has ever asked for a Summoner with dragon experience. They aren’t often raised as shades. In fact, I can’t ever think of the time one was. Perhaps it would be best if I transferred you over to booking.”
Brom headed back into the house.
I listened with impatience to the classical music provided by the Akashic League before a male voice greeted me. “Booking.”
“I’d like to engage a Summoner, one with experience with dragons,” I said. “Can you hook me up with one? I’m just outside of London, but I’m willing to go anywhere in Europe to speak with her.”
Brom wandered past with a large bucket, heading for the shrubs again.
“Her?” the man said, suspicion dripping from the word.
“Or him,” I said quickly. “I’m good with either gender, so long as the Summoner has experience with dragon ghosts.”
“Dragon ghosts?” the man repeated, his voice taking on a weary tone. “Madame, you are aware, are you not, that there are several types of spirits?”
“Well . . . not really. I mean, a ghost is a ghost is a ghost, isn’t it?”
“No,” he said firmly. “There are bound and unbound, released and unreleased spirits. There are alastors and alguls, as well as shades, revenants, and liches. A sentient being who is brought forth by a member of the Akashic League may take any one of those forms. How and when did the dragon you referenced die?”
Nico, the green dragon tutor whom Baltic had reluctantly engaged for Brom’s education, smiled at me as he passed by carrying a large covered tray and a small hatchet.
“Oh. Um, I’m not exactly sure.”
The man sighed heavily. “Your chance of success in raising the spirit or entity will depend directly on the amount of information you can give the person assisting you.”
I made a rude face at the phone. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to dig up more information, but really, I think it’s best that I talk directly to the person who will be doing the summoning.”
Pavel, armed with a coil of rope, a small chain saw, and a plate of pastel-colored cupcakes, passed me with a determined look on his face, and disappeared into the yew shrubs.
“Well . . .” The click of keys on a keyboard followed. “As it happens, we do have a Summoner who lists dragons as an area of expertise. Would you like to book her services?”
I agreed, and provided the man with the necessary information, thanking him when he finally parted with the name and phone number I wanted.
“Her services will not be cheap,” the man warned before I hung up. “Nor will she take kindly to a client who wastes her time.”
“Oh, I don’t think we have that to worry about,” I told him, getting up to see just what was going on in the shrubs, all the while planning what I would say to Dr. Kostich.
After admiring the new archaeological dig site (Nico had devised a way to incorporate lessons in history, botany, biology, and a little physical education in a manner that kept Brom’s interest), I returned to the house to call Maura Lo. She didn’t answer her phone, so I left a voice mail saying I was interested in hiring her services for help with a dragon spirit.
“I don’t suppose it is any good asking you to reconsider your plans.”
I looked at the man standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, face set in a disgruntled expression, my stomach doing an excited flip at the sight of him. I wondered if I would ever be able to see him without that little wibble of pleasure. I sure hoped not. “I want this to end, Baltic.”
He shook his head, coming into the sitting room, pulling me into a gentle embrace. “It serves no purpose, mate. The weyr believes only what they wish to believe.”
“Only because they’re too stubborn to see the truth, but we can help them overcome that.”
His sigh ruffled my hair. “I wish that I could understand your desire to be a part of the weyr.”
I snuggled against him, breathing in the wonderful Baltic scent that never failed to leave me a bit giddy. “I wish you could, too. But since you can’t, you’re just going to have to accept that this is important to me. To us. I don’t want Brom or any of our children growing up in the middle of a war.”
A wicked smile curled his lips as he pulled me tighter, grinding my hips against his. “Our time would be better spent working on those children.”
“Tempting, but I think I’d rather have weyr peace first, so you can stop trying to woo me into bed. I’ll just get my things and then I’ll be ready to go. Where’s your girlfriend?”
He stared at me with a slight frown.
“Thala.”
“I cannot decide if your jealousy of her is amusing or irritating,” he said thoughtfully. “Perhaps it is both.”
“I’m not—oh, never mind. Is she here?”
“No.” He looked away, suddenly cagey.
