She smiled, enticing. “You know if I could take three dragon lovers, I’d be on you like no tomorrow.”
“Our mutual loss, then.” He inhaled deeply and caught her scent; it made his mouth water. “Maybe one day?”
He left to return to his apartment after she moved on. On the way there, he focused on how much he desired her physically, how much he wanted to be her. He rushed to the bathroom through his dark apartment, feeling the burn of morphing chemicals fueling transition through his body. Heart racing with a nauseous combination of anticipation and fear, he turned on the light. He blinked with amazement.
Damn, I’m her.
The perfection astounded him. He leaned closer to the mirror and checked out the subtle color striations in her eyes. He palmed her breasts with appreciation and whistled softly.
Hell, not bad. Not bad at all.
Her eyes stared back at him in the mirror as his thoughts ran wild.
If I can be this good as Shelby, I can be anybody.
He smiled at her face, enjoying her beauty one last moment before beginning the process of shifting back into himself. He closed his eyes and drew up his face in his mind.
I’m Arcadian. I want to be Arcadian.
When the chemicals began coursing in his bloodstream and the burning began, he opened his eyes. Like a time-lapse video, her flesh morphed into his own visage. Within seconds, his familiar face stared back from the mirror.
The impossibility of this swamped him, and yet he’d just watched it happen. “I can be who I want, as long as I have a scrap of their DNA and the desire to become them.”
Still, he wondered … how? Genetic modification was inherently a wild card. But, as far as he knew, never had a dragon shifter been able to transform into anything but a dragon.
Until now.
His heart stuttered and he coughed. Excitement rippled through him, bringing palpitations interspersed with bursts of incredulous laughter. He stood, wanting to fly with exhilaration, and clutched his fists to his chest.
I’ve got it! I’ve got a way off Draco!
“Planning. This will require precise timing,” he muttered as an escape idea began to form. “Genetic modification has its pros and cons. What they didn’t plan on was a new genetic ability developing. One that will get me off station and onto Earth.” He paused in his excitement. All thoughts and movements froze as he wondered …
Is this an unforeseen accident of genetic manipulation? Or is it something engineered? Or is it an evolutionary jump?
“Scratch deliberate engineering; such an ability would never have been added on purpose. Or, did evolution respond to my desire to leave by developing this ability?” The idea spun in his mind. Astonished, he warmed to his new status.
I have a secret ability. This makes me even more special.
He wanted to shout but put his finger to his lips. He recalled the moment after taking the genetic cocktail when he recognized his superiority over the human technicians. Today’s discovery was that realization all over again, only on steroids. The urge to shift with excitement rushed through him, bringing the initial sensations of shifting. He said, “Stop!” The process shut down, the tingling eased, his heart rate slowed.
What remained were visions soaring in his mind of freedom from Pantheon. A mix of joy and invincibility raced down his spine, and he shouted, “Yes!” as he leaped into the air with a conquering fist.
I’m free!
He came down on both feet and dropped into a crouch as he grinned and whispered, “My chains are broken.”
The next morning, he went to his shift on the surface of Prime, boarding the mining shuttle with a secret smile tucked into his heart.
The shuttle doctor came by and checked Arcadian’s watch that recorded his surface time. “You doing all right, Arcadian? I see you’re maintaining no overtime. That’s good. Let’s keep it that way, right?”
A grenade of silence dropped. The unspoken yet explosive words ‘Or be dead like Nate’ hung in the air.
“No problem,” Arcadian said.
I’m leaving Draco, but not in a body bag.
After his shift, he returned home and changed into a shirt with short sleeves. He left on an excursion for more DNA and more data on his ability to change who he was.
In the hallway, he waited at his door as if just coming out until one of the farm workers passed behind him. He followed him into the elevator and reached for the buttons, but said, “Oh, hell I forgot--” He jumped to catch the elevator doors, deliberately brushing his bare arm against the man’s hand. “Sorry,” he said, and bolted out the doors.
His arm began to burn and tingle where he’d touched the guy in the elevator. But he didn’t want to morph into everyone he touched—he had to find a way to control this ability. With a different objective this time, he turned his mind off the farm worker. He kept focused on himself and the desire to remain in his own DNA.
The burning and tingling ceased.
He returned to his apartment and entered, resting his back against the door. “Arcadian Savoy, Arcadian Savoy,” he chanted.
His heart eased down. He closed his eyes and focused on his individuality and commanded his body through his emotions. He exhaled slowly, keeping the image of himself in the front of his thoughts. Within moments, chemical delivery shut down, and his body relaxed.
I did it. Now, what else I can do?
The thought sent a shiver down his spine, followed by an eruption of ideas racing through his mind. “Slow down, bad boy. One thing at a time.” He exhaled with caution. “Now I know how that works, on to the next part of the plan.”
After work the next day, he stopped by the library. “Hi, Lois, can I look at
