Whatever my mother conveys calms him enough to step back, turn abruptly, and stalk out of the kitchen.
“Everything will be better in the morning.” She pats my chest.
I trust her.
I shouldn’t have.
3
Present Day
A jobin construction fits my skill set perfectly after I spent the last two decades in a land of snow and ice, living as a mythical beast. Mainly, the foreman has me lifting heavy things.
Today, we’re finishing up the kitchen in a lakefront house, and I maneuver through the front door, carrying a five-hundred-pound granite countertop. On my own.
“Look at you go! Fucking glad we added you to the team.” Adrian, a white guy with shoulder-length red hair, damp with sweat, pats me on the back, and I manage not to flinch.
I’m still braced for an attack, expecting a heavy body of claws and scales to slam into me and try to wrestle power from my grasp. That was the way of the colony. The constant brutality was something most of the dragons living there respected and prided themselves on.
I just wanted to survive long enough to escape.
But it seems leaving the place didn’t automatically free me from the violent lessons I’d learned while there. It’s going to take time for me to reacclimatize to this mostly civilized world.
After working with me for two weeks, the crew is used to the fact that I don’t talk much, so the redhead accepts my nod as I settle the load onto the lower cabinets. He strolls away, toward the foreman. Both are mermen. Most of this crew is merfolk.
When I asked Xavier about work in town, saying I’d take anything with a paycheck, he came up with a list. The top two were this construction team and a recycling company—one owned by a merman, the other by a selkie.
The same as when I grew up here, there are more Of the Fin—aka water—mythics than any other in town. But I couldn’t care less if I worked with my kind, other mythics, or even humans, as long as it was a job. I figured with my supernatural strength, might as well try out a building team. Fortunately, Bardo, the owner of Lake Castles Construction, found space for me on his crew despite me being Of the Wing, like all dragons.
“Love when I finish a task right when it’s time to clock out.” Callisto, a mermaid and the plumber for this build, rolls out from under the sink and grins my way.
I give her the same silent nod I gave Adrian. She wipes her hands on a rag, then waves before strolling out the door. I fiddle with the counter for a minute, creating a buffer.
The first day here, I learned Callisto’s sister is the police chief in town. Even though I haven’t committed a bigger crime than snatching some clothes and food, I still have the urge to avoid the law. To stay away from anyone who might find my true identity interesting.
“Hey, you want a ride into town?” Adrian throws his thumb over his shoulder, and even though I enjoy walking in the lush Georgia forests, I nod.
Anything to get back faster. Hopefully in time to catch sight of Esme before she closes the shop for the day.
I have no plan. Not anymore. Nothing other than figuring out if Esme would be happier with or without me.
But I’ve spent all my time surviving among dragons in a colony in Antarctica and zero time learning how to discern the inner workings of a woman’s mind.
For now, all I can do is observe. Count her smiles. Look for hints of discontent.
Find out if she sits by her window at night, staring up at the moon, praying to The Winged One that, one day, a dragon mate will come fulfill her life.
I roll my eyes at my own immature hopes.
Esme was never a pine-and-wait type of girl. Once, when she was sixteen and with me and our friends on a boat—my parents’ new speedboat that I was using to show off—the engine crapped out on us, leaving our group stranded in the middle of Lake Galen. Back then, we didn’t have convenient cell phones to call for help. Without a moment of hesitation, she dived into the water and swam to shore, calling out she’d get us a tow. An hour later, the fancy speedboat was hooked to an aging pontoon, and I was crushing hard on a girl who never needed to be saved.
“You’re above Fresh Feathers, right?” Adrian asks as he turns his truck onto Main Street.
“Yeah,” I grunt. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Feel like you’ve halved the heavy lifting since you started. Figure I owe you.” The guy flicks the rim of his baseball cap as he pulls up to the curb. “See you tomorrow. We’re going to happy hour after work at Local Brew if you want to join.”
“Maybe.”
