Oh. She is human.
This surprises me. I nuzzle at her small head, drinking in her scent. She is mine, though. She smells of my fires and of our recent mating. I like this. She is soft and pleasant, my little mate. She—
My sweet little mate hammers her small fist on my scales again, pointing. She gestures at some of the structures below, but they are not defensible. They are square and flat and stink of humans. I veer away, as they are not good nests, and then I see it.
A promising nest in the sky made of metal, shaped a bit like a thin mushroom. I take her toward it, flapping my wings with excitement. When I land atop the nest I have chosen and breathe in the air, I am pleased. There are no scents of humans, and no other dragons. There is no cave atop this strange structure, but it is high up and no one will be able to take my mate unless they come through me first.
I am pleased.
I land on the flat portion of the “mushroom” head and set my mate gently down. This is our nest, I tell her proudly.
Her angry thoughts flood into mine. Take me down, right now.
No.
Her thoughts grow stubborn. Then change, Mhal. I can't talk to you when you're like this.
Like what?
A dragon? She gestures angrily at me. We are so high up that her scent rips away from me on the wind, her hair flying into her face. She pushes at it, scowling in my direction through the strands, and I lift one wing to protect her from the breeze. Change to human form.
Human? My thoughts curl with disdain. I have no human form.
Really? Then who was that fucking me a few hours ago? Her thoughts are flustered and a mental image of me mounted atop her flits through her mind.
Ah. You mean my two-legged form. I do have one of those.
Two-legged. Whatever! Just change, please.
I lower my head and nuzzle at her. Because you wish to mate again?
Yes, sure. Whatever gets you to change. She pats my nose. Please, Mhal. Just…change? For me?
I like her scent. It surprises me all the time, this scent. Is it possible for a creature to smell as good as she does? Because I love it. I love breathing her in and scenting the notes of her arousal mixed with mine, of her scent turning with my fires to something brighter, something deeper. I could breathe her in for days, just hold her close and drown myself in her scent. She—
My mate grabs me by the nose and stares at me, hard. Mhal. Change? Don't you want to mate?
I do not smell her arousal, but her entreaty is enough for me to shift over. With a thought, I shift forms, letting my body ripple over to my weaker, two-legged form, the one that she prefers.
The moment I do, she flings her arms around me and holds me close.
18
JENNY
This…is a problem.
I cling to Mhal, now that he's back in his human—or two-legged—form, because I never want him to shift again. Something's wrong when he does. He forgets me. He forgets that I'm human. He forgets everything. And he shuts me out.
It's like the moment he goes to dragon form, he becomes totally feral and I have to start from scratch.
A big hand strokes my hair as I hold onto him. You are so worried. I am fine. He seems amused by my fear. Am I not whole? Did I not bring us to a safe place?
I pull back, gazing up at him with wariness. "What's my name?"
You are my Jenny. His gaze roams over me possessively, his eyes gold with just a hint of black. My mate. The one I have given my fires to.
I let out a sigh of relief. Thank god. One crisis averted.
Do you still wish to mate? He moves closer to me, reaching for my breast, and touches my nipple. I promised to play with these.
I squirm away. "Not to be a tease, but I'm a little preoccupied at the moment. We can have sex soon."
How soon? His thoughts are insistent. I want to touch you.
"As soon as I figure out what we're doing and how we get down from here." I take a few steps away from him, judging our surroundings.
Get down? Leave? We just got here. He is full of amusement.
Me, I'm not so amused. I didn't recognize this building until he landed us atop it, and I can't believe this is our new 'home'. I know this place. It's not really a building—it's an old metal oil derrick in an amusement park with a big walkway at the top. There's an elevator that goes down to the ground, and we must be at least ten or fifteen stories into the air. I move to the railing, the high breeze whipping at my hair and skin, and look down below us. The remnants of the old amusement park are spread out below. There's a wooden rollercoaster that's collapsed in on itself, and nearby a ride that looks like a Ferris wheel on its side. The paths are all overgrown, the plants having taken over everything, and there's litter and trash and dead leaves as far as the eye can see, mixed in with the colorful signs and abandoned snack booths.