Page 18 of O Holy Spite

“This is a Stradivarius. And that’s an original Stratocaster. Ooh, a Lyon & Healy harp!”

I watch her flit through them, then jump on the rolling ladder to slide along the wall full of records. She hasn’t touched a single one, though I’d happily let her. If it continued to make her smile this big, I’d haul one of the damned things back to Cappie and let her fat finger her way through learning to play them.

Not that I can, of course. I have an excellent ear and zero musical talent.

But Rennie and Chester might enjoy learning with her, and the noise would annoy the shit out of the Raj. I might be willing to compromise on a smaller token coming with us if I got all that out of the deal.

“You have soooo many pressings! I bet some of these are worth a bajillion dollars. I mean, you have like… a numbered White Album. “ Her nose wrinkles as she turns back to me. “Some of these don’t even seem like your taste, big guy. Are you hoarding them because you can?”

Chuckling, I shrug. “When you’re a collector and a dragon, you become an odd cross between a crossroads demon and Gollum. You hear about things being unattainable or even suddenly available—either way doesn’t matter—and you do whatever you can to hunt it down. After that, it's a matter of your ethics. What will or won’t you do to add it to the collection?”

“Is that why you have a Wu-Tang Clan album? ‘Cuz it seems really weird.”

Rolling to my feet, I walk over and lift her off the ladder. “That’s a funny story, but it’s probably better left for another time. We have a few more floors to go through before it’s time to head back. We don’t want to end up stuck here unless we’ve brought supplies.”

“Fine, but if you think I’ll forget it, you’re out of your mind, old man.” She sticks her tongue out at me, hopping out of my arms to head for the door. “C’mon. I want to see what lives below priceless history and music.”

I’ll just bet she does.

I wasn’t sure if I’d ever pry her away from the library—our bunny loves books almost as much as I do and she’s now sporting a bag filled with her trinkets from each floor. She’s convinced some of the books she found will help us with the research on the Treaty and about the other schools. I’d carry it for her, but she’s stubbornly descending the stairs to the lowest level. Dolly insisted on skipping the one we’re passing now because she’s ‘not ready to see the Scrooge McDuck money bin,’ and I let it go.

Our girl is the oddest child of wealth I’ve ever met, that’s for certain.

“You know this room is the most secret place of all,” I remind her as we hit the bottom of the tower. “Even Rennie knows not to open his big, fat mouth about it or he’s in deep shit.”

Her eyes dance as she leans against the doorframe. “I have an idea why, but I promise I won’t spill your tea. There are plenty of things to poke and prod you about that are not related to this deep, dark cavernous room filled with something you’re embarrassed as hell about.”

I glare at her, my hand hovering over the hieroglyph. “I’m not embarrassed; it’s just private.”

“Well, it sure as shit isn’t bondage equipment because you don’t give two fucks about that.” I roll my eyes at her and she winks.

Taking a deep breath, I spring the door open and wait for it. Her squeal echoes off the walls at the same time the bag hits the soft carpet. When I look inside the huge room covered in huge pillows, furry stuffies and soft, fluffy things, Dolly is wriggling her adorable ass out of the snowsuit. My jaw drops as she kicks it aside, shaking her hair out before she takes off across the floor in some physics defying acrobatics that land her right in the middle of the biggest pillow of all.

“Son of a bitch,” I murmur to myself. If I’d known she was going to bounce around like a fucking cartoon, I would have brought her here sooner. I close the door, kicking off my shoes next to the bag and make my way over to where she’s sprawled like a starfish amid the mountains of toys I’ve collected over the years. Her rainbow hair is fanned out around her and she beams up at me.

“This is the best room in the entire place! I love it!” she gushes in delight. Her hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist and before I know it, she’s tumbled me into the huge pile with her. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are sparkling and she’s the cutest damn thing in this place.

Fuck. Me.

Propping myself up beside her, I watch as she picks up stuffed animals one after another, studying them for a second before giving each one a hug. “I’m glad you like it, snack size.”

Dolly rolls over, pushing me until she’s lying half on me with her chin poking into my chest. “Don’t be ridiculous, big guy. I love that you brought me here and that you tried really hard not to actually say why.”

I huff, running a hand over her hair. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Uh-huh.” She picks up a fluffy pink sloth and a blue turtle, holding one in each hand to move them as she narrates. “It goes something like this ‘Oh, Dolly, I want to take you on a trip to my super secret place no one gets to go.’ And then ‘Of course I’ll go with you Aubrey. Surely this doesn’t mean anything important?’ Followed by ‘Uh, no. You just can’t tell anyone about my adorable vault of toys I only share with my mates.’ But of course, the sloth is far too smart to believe that nonsense.”

“I do not sound like that,” I grumble as I snatch the turtle. “Be nice to Amos. He’s getting old.”

Her eyes narrow and she shakes a finger at me. “Don’t change the subject, dragon. Even if it is ridiculously sweet to name every animal in here—don’t you dare deny it—I still want to hear you say it. Why did you bring me here, Lord Draconis?”

“Because you’re the only other person besides our broody batman that I trust with the things most important to me,” I shoot back. Yanking the impertinent wench closer, I whisper softly. “Including my heart.”

“Good. Because there’s no other plushie hoarding lizard man I’d rather be here with.”

I swat her ass, getting a squeal out of her as she wriggles on top of me. “You’re trying to start something, lunchable, and you know we have to get home. Otherwise you might freeze your bits off if the storm gets worse.”

Her lips draw into a pout and I bite the lower one lightly. When I let go, she sighs, looking put out. “I wanna come down here first next time. I could loll in the amount of soft fur in this room; you have all the really nice stuff.”