It was ridiculous how nervous she was. Ridiculous! She wasn’t a pimply teenager on the evening of her first day to the disco, for heck’s sake. She was in her late twenties, could control fire, and had lived through things others wouldn’t dream of. Why was her pulse fluttering unsteadily, why was the dragon snorting nervous smoke tendrils inside her, and why hadn’t she eaten more than half of her breakfast?
The reason why rang the doorbell when Felicia thought she’d explode with impatience.
She took a calming breath, thanked God that Cindy was still sound asleep as always on a Saturday morning, and strode to the door in measured, forcedly slow steps so as not to bely her anticipation.
Joshua stood in the doorway, looking like the catch of the day in black jeans and a turquoise shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows and more buttons open than was safe for her rising heat levels.
“Hey,” he said, bestowing her with a knowing grin and with an intense gaze raking over her body hiding behind a girly, canary-yellow pajama with shorter-than-short shorts.
“Hey,” she answered, pleased with how normal she sounded in spite of the inner need to throw herself at him, or better yet, drag him into her room.
“How’s the dragon mistress doing today?”
She loved the way his voice grew rough and tender and intimate despite his joking demeanor.
“The dragon mistress and her dragon are inclined to gift you with their attention and valuable time today, if you’re inclined to reveal your plans.”
She mirrored his grin. Oh, how delicious to goof around with someone who was like her and not like her at the same time.
He chuckled and reached out to twirl one of her untamed curls around his index finger, the gesture enough to make their auras of ice and fire flare and their eyes blaze with desire.
“I think I like keeping you in the dark, so to speak. Get dressed in smart yet casual clothes, and grab your handbag. I want to take you out on a date.”
The dragon inside her stretched languidly and fluidly, and the flames turned up their hunger while she felt a blush creep out across her cheeks.
A date.
Well, their previous meetings hadn’t exactly been dates, had they? And wasn’t it meaningful that he used this word? Wasn’t it an admittance to commitment, to a relationship, to acting like two people in love?
While part of her was disappointed that he wouldn’t come in and was watching her in his cool Norse god way, leaning against the doorframe, most of her wanted to dance with joy and rush to wherever he wanted to take her. Blowing him a playful kiss over her shoulder that had his body tense and his eyes sparkle like frost flowers on a windowpane hit with sudden sunlight, she ran to her room.
Several minutes later, they had got off a bus and were walking hand in hand through Fairview’s art district. She had spent frustrating five minutes in front of her wardrobe fretting over what to wear and how much make up to put on, before going with her instincts. Dressed in figure-hugging black jeans to mirror his and a silky halter-neck top matching the ombre-ocher-auburn-reddish-orange color of her hair, she was filled to the brim with a strange mix of confidence, happiness and awareness of herself as well as him and the feelings they shared.
Somehow, Joshua saying the word “date” out loud cemented their status, although there had still not been any talk of love. The way he kept shooting sideway glances at her, the way he held her hand and exuded such pride made her feel appreciated and beautiful. She had settled for tying part of her fiery curls back with a black hairclip, choosing no jewelry apart from Indian-style earrings complimenting her top and emphasizing that she was showing a lot, but not too much, skin. Skin which tingled with yearning for his touch, glowing ever so slightly so as not to be noticed by anyone but him.
She could feel the iciness radiated by him in reaction to her, an almost imperceptible shimmer of cold mist which clung to his alabaster body and rippled with his contained movements hinting at such casual, potentially dangerous power.
Joshua led her to an exhibition of modern artists specializing in fantasy. Works by Nene Thomas, Selina Fenech, Anne Stokes, Michael Whelan, Frank Frazetta, Amy Brown, Elena Dudina and many more were displayed in their magical splendor. Dragons, fairies, elves, mermaids, werewolves, vampires, unicorns, witches, spirit animals, miraculously detailed, dark scenes full of haunting beauty and forbidding pleasures, more dragons… It was perfect.
He had chosen one of the probably few things they had in common, instinctively knowing that neither of them would be able to resist the pull of these mysterious beings and their powers that to them were more real than fictional. They wandered spell-bound from painting to painting, sometimes staring silently for long moments like two statuesque aliens in trance, sometimes whispering heated discussions about the images. They laughed or whistled at the cosplay showed off by various, and they poured over the various gift items and memorabilia, fingers entwined and their special aura soaking up the energy at the venue.
What a pair they made, among throngs of visitors who were also in their element and maybe bigger art fans than them. On some primal level, everyone around them sensed that this pair was different, giving them more space than the others whose feet got trampled on and who were elbowed away when they crowded in front of the paintings or browsed the stands of artefacts without buying anything.
Fire and ice, on the prowl.
The first half of the day went by in a blur of colorful memories she vowed to treasure for the rest of her life. After lunch at a Thai restaurant where Felicia gobbled up spicy, sweet-and-sour food and watched with a fond smile how he ordered everything cool and bland on the menu, Joshua asked her to suggest an activity for the rest of the day. She spontaneously decided they should go on a hike. As she had suspected, he loved the idea of leaving the city’s confines behind them.
After shooting a glance at their clothes and laughing, she dragged him off to the nearest clothes store where they outfitted themselves in comfortable hiking clothes and sturdy shoes, complete with a hat and sunglasses for him—she refused because the sun was never any trouble for her fire-powered body to handle—as well as a bag they filled with water and snacks on their way.
Hours later, they were walking and walking and walking… and loving it.
She was faster than him, picking her way up and down hills with small, darting, sure steps, buoyed by endless energy. He remained a step behind, although he could have kept pace without any trouble, his strides long, measured and easy as if hiking didn’t tap into his energy supply. They talked about their past, sharing moments of magic and describing their dire struggle with a normal life. Mostly, she was doing the talking and he was listening, the cold, distant mask on his face slipping more and more, as though her fire melted his ice.
Radiating coolness, he made sure neither of them sweated. Off and on, discarding the sunglasses which made him look too dashing to be true, he whispered a command and a wispy hand of frost sidled out of his body to dance across the tree tops, slither along the ground and caress her ankles or swirl around him. She found it hard to continue walking whenever he did so because she wanted to concentrate on his magic and watch him. Somehow, when his inner ice was let out, he looked even more handsome and special and powerful, shining like a sculpture carved out of ice. Hard, confident, different from the rest.
It made her want to kiss him and never stop. It also made her want to throw caution to the wind and be herself.
“Joshua?”
“Mmhm.”
He sounded deep in thought, as was so often the case. He must have infected her, because she was thinking much more than she ever had, looking into herself, and wondering about him… about them.
“What would your ideal life be like?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Where did that question come from?”
She shrugged, half wishing she hadn’t mentioned it. Whatever made her so curious?
“You’re doing it again, answering a question of mine
with one of yours.”
Grinning, he took her hand and led her on. After a minute in silence, he answered.
“I don’t know. I can see myself somewhere away from all these people, maybe in a European country in a forest or up in the mountains, living on my own without the responsibility of a job and the strain of seeming normal.”
“You mean, going back to the log cabin time?”
The pressure of his grip increased before he had himself under control.
“No, certainly not. I won’t make the same mistake again. I’d be prepared, I’d keep myself grounded, I’d do research, and I’d keep a connection to the rest of the world. But it sounds like paradise to let go like that. There, now don’t I sound as though I’m not living what I’m preaching to you?”
The rueful grin was back, but she sensed something else too.
“What keeps you from living that dream?” she demanded.
“You have no obligations, no family, no job that somebody else couldn’t do. Why do you limit yourself?”
He frowned and stared at her.
“Don’t be so impulsive. There’s got to be a reason to all this. People can’t just leave normal life behind and do what the hell they please.”
“But so many already do, be they artists or hermits or religious fanatics. And they’re happy, and they don’t care what the others might think about them. You don’t either, so what really keeps you from it?”
Stony silence. Then he ground out between his teeth, “My own free will, I guess.”
She suppressed a satisfied smile, filled with eagerness and with pride at having him see the truth. Now she was closer to her wish—or was it already a plan?—to make him realize this life wasn’t for them, and to convince him to escape with her and turn from hiding freak into potential superhero.
“I don’t think so. Your will is a mighty force, as far as I can tell. Seriously, who or what keeps you here, locked in this life of secrecy without letting your magic out?”
His aura of ice flared and shimmered, stirring up a cool breeze.
“You,” he whispered.
The fire dragon inside her glowed with satisfaction. Feeling her heat respond, she gave his hand a squeeze, and fought the urge to laugh giddily or scream with delight, or to throw herself at him and make love to him right then and there.
She stopped him with a hand on his arm, and pulled him close. Tiny flames danced over her skin.
“What if I came with you? I’m sick and tired of it all. And I could develop so much better if we were on our own in the wild.”
He pulled her even closer until she was pressed against his body, their auras and magic intermingling and sizzling with current.
“Don’t tempt me like this.”
“Why? Because you might give in to temptation?”
She was so sure of her victory.
“Maybe.”
His whispered answer was barely audible. He leaned down and kissed that magical spot at her throat where her pulse was hammering in excitement.
All rational thought was erased. She reveled in the sensations his lips on her sensitive skin caused, her hands itching to slip under his clothes and explore.
When would he finally take the physical aspect of their relationship further and make her his? Should she wait and practice patience, a virtue she didn’t master?
Joshua skimmed his mouth across her clavicle, parted his lips and let his teeth graze over her skin ever so softly. Suppressing a needy moan, she pulled his head up and kissed him. Their lips and tongues danced until he broke the kiss. He took two steps back, a soft reluctant groan escaping him.
“We should keep walking and find a spot for the night,” he said, his voice husky, his breathing hitched.
A spot for the night? Oh yes, that sounded promising.