“That’s your choice, Dragon,” she called back. Florence left the truth of it—that if he did anything to hurt her Ari, all bets were off—unsaid.
“I’m Cvareh Xin’Ryu Soh,” he replied quickly.
Florence glanced over her shoulder, looking at the man with the unreasonably long name. He wasn’t so different from a Fenthri, really. Instead of gray, black, and white, he was colorful. Like the paintings she had seen of the foliage called flowers. There was his color, then, and his pointed ears, elongated canines, talons,andslits for eyes.
But he had two arms, two legs, and one head. He spoke with the same sounds they did and moved in similar ways. She gave him a small smile of acknowledgment.
Florence eased the bedroom door shut behind her. A giant bed greeted her, still a mess from when she’d woken not long ago. Florence turned right and focused on the footed copper bath that stood steaming under a large window.
Ari was submerged up to her neck, her white hair slicked back and shining in the light. Florence smiled, tiptoeing over.
“I hear you.”
“I know you do.” Florence laughed brightly.
“What is the Dragon doing?”
“Eating a cookie.”
“You gave him a cookie?” Ari opened one eye. “That’s generous of you.”
“Is it?”
“You barely share your cookies with me,” Ari muttered, closing her eyes again. “I’m going to think you like Dragons more than me.”
“But you don’t like cookies at all.” Florence scooped salt scrub into her palms. She plucked Ari’s hand from the bathwater and massaged it over her skin, soothing the calluses created by her gold lines.
Florence loved everything about the woman known as the White Wraith. Ari was sharp and witty. Her skin was the most lovely shade of gray and her face had a beautifully healthy curve to it. Arianna wasn’t just pretty—she was strong too, broad shouldered and wonderfully stocky. Florence was of average build for a Fenthri, if a little too thin. Ari was perfect.
Florence kneaded stress out of the strong muscles that cut out from under Ari’s skin. “So how did this all come to pass?” she asked.
“I was on my grand escape from the refinery and ran into a Dragon, unconscious, with an exhausted corona.” Ari remained focused on the ceiling as she spoke. Florence could tell the woman was still debating with herself over the course of events that led them to having a Dragon in their home. The tension wasn’t giving up on her shoulders. “So I decided to cut out his heart. He woke up and offered me a boon instead.”
“You couldn’t just leave him be?” she hummed playfully.
“If you want enough dunca to keep affording sugar for your confections, you don’t want me to leave prone Dragons with all their organs intact.”
“Wasn’t that what the refinery job was for?” Florence waited with a drying cloth as Ari emerged from the bath.
“A little extra never hurts,” her teacher reminded her.
“A little extra will get you killed.” There was a heavy note to Florence’s words, one she couldn’t stop because it stemmed from a genuine fear of her master meeting an ill fate during one of her many dangerous jobs.
“Florence, look at me.” Ari placed her fingertips under Florence’s chin, guiding her gaze and giving her no other choice. Florence studied Ari’s eyes, the unnatural purple striking an odd contrast with her skin. They had unnerved her at first, but she had learned to see past them. They may have been harvested from a Dragon, but they were Ari’s now. “You know it would take a lot to kill me.”
“I know,” Florence mumbled, trying to look away.
Ari held her chin fast. “After all, I have some of the best canisters and explosives in Loom looking after me.”
“Oh, what did you use? The bomb of course, but a canister? I saw number three was missing. It was number three, right?” Florence ran over to the bed, jumping on it as Ari began to rummage through her wardrobe, dropping clothes she decided against into a pile on the floor that Florence would likely be the one to tidy later.
“It was number three, and it was one of your best yet.” Ari placed a tight-fitting white shirt onto the bed before returning to the wardrobe. “The disk had a nice blast radius. Incredibly effective but contained. Impressive destructive power.”
“Tell me about it?” Florence dreamed of someday watching Ari on one of her little missions. She had no interest in actually fighting herself. But just once, she wanted to see one of her explosions in person, not just as calculations on paper.
“The canister? Flash of white, red at the edges, and then it turned yellow when it hit the target. There was black smoke too.” Ari was awful at painting descriptions with words—she’d have had more success drawing it—but Florence hung on her every syllable all the same. “But it took a lot of energy and had a slow fire.”
“If you want explosive canisters that large, it will.” Florence picked at the white vest and silver necktie Ari had placed on the bed.
