Page 2 of Dallas

Since, after all, it was the rift between our two groups which had resulted in our being unable to conceal ourselves. The coven’s spells had closed us off from the human world for centuries, until a witch mated with one of us and Gavin had refused to reveal the identity of the dragon in question.

Though I truly had to wonder—silently, to myself—whether there would have been no repercussions even if the dragon had been revealed. Selene didn’t seem the type to let bygones be bygones.

She could pretend now, years later, that she wouldn’t have sought retribution toward the dragon who’d sullied her daughter. If it helped her live with having banished her pregnant daughter at such a vulnerable time, that was just fine. I didn’t have to believe her.

I wondered how many of the others questioned her, if any of them did at all.

“There isn’t much we can do against the sort of forces brought against us, as you very well know,” Alan reminded her. “We were never meant to defend ourselves against the weapons of this day and age. Thanks to our equipment, we were aware of the impending invasion, but there was nothing we could do. We were defenseless.”

“Imagine.” She looked from him to me. “Dragons who can’t defend themselves.”

Alan’s backup granted a little extra confidence. “Imagine. Witches who had to go into hiding without our protection. How powerful could you possibly be?”

“That’s enough.” He shot me a look of warning but didn’t go any further. “Now, if you don’t mind, Hecate, I’d like it if Dallas returned to his duties.”

She made sure to sneer at me once more before turning and sashaying down the hall, swinging her hips with her arms folded tight.

Alan glanced at her over his shoulder before turning back to me. “I could practically hear your dragon screaming from my room.”

“That’s what brought you over.”

“Yes, indeed, and I see I got here just in time. I don’t blame you; I would’ve wanted to squash her like a grape, myself.” He joined me in front of the bank of monitors, sprawling out on one of the wheeled leather chairs.

I rubbed my temples, then ran my hands through my hair. The same sort of brownish red as the others, or reddish brown. After a century I still wasn’t certain. I was in need of a cut, which meant a trip into town. Not my favorite thing to do, not by a long shot. I had little patience for humans, especially modern humans.

“What was the complaint this time?” he asked.

“It’s not even worth speaking of.” I eyed him up then, noting the look of relaxed calm on his face and all over his body language. He’d had a busy morning “in his room,” it appeared. A new mate would do that to a man.

“Anything from Mary lately?” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I feel like I’ve been slacking off quite a lot.”

“I figured I’d give you a week, maybe ten days, before I brought it up,” I winked. “With so many of us mating up, it seems like there’s a bigger chance of things slipping between the cracks.”

“I apologize. It seems like I’m always either feeling as though I’m falling short, or I’m apologizing for having fallen short.”

“You aren’t falling short. You’re in your honeymoon phase. I might never have gone through such a phase myself, but I’m not a monster. I won’t pretend you don’t deserve it after waiting so long to find your mate.”

“It’ll happen for you.”

“That’s not why I said what I said,” I grinned. “I’m not fishing for reassurance. I’m trying to reassure you.”

“You’ve done your job, thanks ever so much.”

“Nothing from Mary,” I added, answering his question. “I considered reaching out to nudge her, even knowing how little she enjoys being nudged.”

“No one enjoys being nudged, especially not busy people such as herself. That being said, aye, I believe that should be done. With the coven here now, the Gwydions will come sniffing around—sooner rather than later, I believe.”

“You think so? Now that we’re together, we’re stronger than ever.”

“But not nearly as numerous as we once were—neither ourselves nor the coven. We’ve lost so many. They might construe this as weakness.”

“They would be making a grave mistake.”

“Would they?” Alan's head tilted back until it rested against the chair and he was staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know that I agree. Their weapons are powerful, and we were all but useless against them. They must know this. I’m afraid it does not matter whether the coven is with us or not. They have an edge which we don’t.”

“The witches can use their powers against the weapons.”

“I hope you’re correct about that—though I would feel much better if I knew for certain. But I suppose there’s no way to know unless an attack occurs, and I’m not looking forward to such a thing happening.”

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