Malcolm’s grin faded. “Shit. I’m sorry. I thought they’d give it a rest after the last dozen or so.”
“Mum says she’ll talk to them.” I turned so I faced him, one knee tucked under me. “How’s school?”
“The usual. Exhausting but worth it.” He leaned back on his hands, his hologram so detailed I could see the fuzz on his hoodie. “I’m working on a new prototype for long-distance holographic projection. If I can fix the resonance calibration, you’ll be able to project anywhere in the world without lag.”
Pride put a smile on my lips. Malcolm had always been like this—curious and brilliant and absorbed with tinkering. He’d invented holographic projection when we were sixteen, earning himself a full scholarship at Harvard.
“That’s amazing, Mal.”
“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his eyes sharpening. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
Another sigh escaped me. “I’m sick of everyone’s obsession with me finding my mates. It’s not like the species is going to die out if I don’t settle down tomorrow.”
My brother’s expression turned serious. “They’re scared, Portia. The Curse might be broken, but you’re still the only female born in over two decades. That terrifies Dad. It terrifies Da, too, although he won’t admit it.”
Emotion tugged at me. Malcolm didn’t have the same volatile relationship I had with our father. Then again, my brother was a genius, his brain as impressive as any magic.
I swallowed. “It terrifies me, too. But shoving me at every unmated dragon in the world isn’t going to fix it.”
“I know.” Malcolm reached out like he meant to grab my hand, but his fingers merely flickered as they passed through mine. He snorted softly, then offered a wry smile that made him look like Mum. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re handling this better than I would.”
“You’d probably invent a device that makes you invisible.”
“Already did. Mum confiscated it.”
We laughed together, and an ache shot across my heart. His holograms were shockingly lifelike, but nothing beat seeing him in person.
“Promise you’ll let Father drag you through a glass of water so I can hug you properly.”
Malcolm grinned. “Only if you make those chocolate chunk cookies I like.”
“Deal.”
A voice echoed in the background, and Malcolm looked over his shoulder, obviously listening to someone I couldn’t see. “Give me a sec!” he called.
“What is it?” I asked.
He turned back to me, a sheepish look on his face. “I’ve got a study group in ten minutes. But I can skip it.”
I waved a hand. “Don’t let me keep you from saving the world or whatever Tony Stark thing you’re working on.”
He made heart hands, affection gleaming in his eyes. “Love you, Sis. Hang in there.”
“Love you, too, Big Bro.” It was a joke between us. Malcolm was three minutes older, which made him heir to the throne.
He laughed. Then the hologram winked out. Standing, I stared at my phone’s lock screen, which was a photo of Mum smiling with Malcolm and me on either side of her. Dad had snapped it outside an Edinburgh cafe on our fifteenth birthday.
Before every dragon on the planet decided I needed to get married as soon as possible.
I flung my phone onto the bed just as the screen lit up.
“Incoming hologram,” the woman announced, the voice accompanied by Georgie Blackwood’s face expanding from the screen.
Lurching forward, I grabbed the phone. “Accept!”
