Page 18 of Grumpy Dragon Christmas

Smoke issues from my mouth and nose, but I hold back on my flame.

“Drekkan?” Qrow slides out of the scattering crowd. “Where are you going?”

“See the mayor,” I growl, ignoring the buzzing at my neck.

“Not a great idea,” Qrow says, scurrying to keep pace with me. “He won’t take the collar off until after the celebrations.”

I snarl, and a furry Lepke stallholder screams, leaping away from me.

The collar activates. The flash of pain is blinding, dropping me to my knees as I scrabble at it. Touching the thing makes the pain worse. I can hear my heart beating, the blood rushing in my veins as seeing becomes difficult.

“Now you’ve done it.” I hear Qrow from a long way away as my body gives up and I slump forward.

But then there are hands. They’re everywhere, lifting me. Voices talk in low tones meaning I can’t quite catch the words. Finally, the pain subsides, and my muscles relax.

“Why do this to yourself, Drekkan?” The mayor’s bulbous face peers down at me. “Qrow warned you what would happen if you tried to disrupt things.”

“Not. Disrupting,” I grind out, finding my jaw still partially locked.

“So, what do you call the scene at the market?” He turns away from me to his bank of screens, most of which are showing my progress through the square on a loop.

It doesn’t look good.

“I wanted to speak. To you.” I struggle on. “The female.”

He turns back to me, and I swear to the ancestors I see a flicker of emotion across his pale face.

“The one you were eating with earlier? The human? What have you done to her?” He’s across to me in two strides, thick fingers press on the collar, and the pain spikes again, my body arching involuntarily.

“Not hurt her!” I grit my teeth against the pain.

It subsides, and the mayor is giving me a curious look. “Then what about the human female? She is our guest here on Kitchik, and she has to be treated well,” he says with a menacing tone.

“Then why is she in the smallest dwelling you have?” I reply, my tongue finally working again, my mouth slippery with metallic tasting blood where I’ve bitten the inside of my cheek. “Hardly a way to treat a guest as fine as Jade.”

The mayor turns away. “You did all this”—he gestures to the screens—“to tell me I’m mistreating my guest?”

“Why else? You’ve made it clear I don’t get what I want unless I comply.” My arms are rippling with tiny needles as I lift one to explore the collar around my neck. It vibrates with warning. I let my hand drop away. “Unless I leave your nevving celebrations alone.”

“You’ve hardly kept your end of the bargain.” The mayor stares at the screens.

“And you’re not treating your guest with the respect she deserves. She is with young, and if she chose your pathetic rock to birth her young, you should not only feel privileged, but you should be ensuring she is her most comfortable.”

I let the silence sit as I attempt to get the feeling back in the rest of my body. My leg with the pulsar injury hurts like it’s been chewed by a mosum, and I realize just how much I’ve taken being able to shift for granted. Sitting up, I take in the large number of guards ringing the mayor’s chamber.

I might be collared, but they’re not taking any chances.

“So, what do you suggest?” the mayor asks suddenly. “About the human female.”

“She should be given a larger dwelling, provided with the necessary comforts as close to your own as possible.”

“Anything else?”

“Jade requires a personal chef, making food she likes to ensure she gets all the nutrition she needs,” I say, thinking of the tiny and near useless food preparation area in the apartment. “She also needs a decent wardrobe, not the rags she’s dressed in…And an aquium. She needs one of those.”

“An aquium?” the mayor queries. “Like a Sarkarnii aquium?”

“Human females like to bathe. She needs an aquium,” I lie smoothly, and the collar does not berate me.

---