Tales from Tarker's Hollow Read online

  “Now, my family, I am young and my magic is new. If you choose me as your matriarch I will rely on you to help me learn my way, so that I may guide you wisely, as my grandmother once did,” she said, her voice raw with emotion. ‘If you are willing to help me, will you please lift your hand to signify a vote for Marie Ironwood?”

  As one, every hand raised.

  The sound of celebration erupted in the ballroom.

  Then she heard an incantation from behind her, barely audible.

  “Marie!” Grace’s grandmother shouted, stepping out of the crowd.

  Marie turned in time to see the blue bolt streaking toward her. She raised a hand protectively, and the light…stopped.

  It hung there in the air between them, spinning and sparkling.

  Grace’s grandmother laughed.

  “Regalo Farson Ratcliffe,” she said. “You’ve belittled my cottage magic for years. But even a simple witch knows what happens when you use your magic for evil.”

  The ball of light spun faster.

  “It comes back to you,” she finished, nodding at Marie.

  Marie dropped her hand and the energy bolt shot back at Rex, taking him off his feet.

  “Young lady, that is how you defend yourself from your enemies. Your grandmother would be proud,” the older woman said, putting her arm around Marie’s shoulder.

  It felt right.

  “I can’t wait for you to teach me more,” Marie told her with a big grin.

  “I think you’re going to catch on quickly.”

  16

  Alone

  All the guests had gone. Marie and Dross were finally alone.

  She closed the door to her room and turned to him.

  Before Marie could say a word, Dross had her pinned to the wall.

  “You are the bravest, most wonderful woman in the world,” he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine,

  He devoured her mouth, pressing his hips into her as he thrust his tongue against hers, as if he were pleading her to do what she already couldn’t wait for.

  She tried to move to the bed, but in the enormous dress, she couldn’t quite lie down.

  “Let me help you,” he said, turning her around.

  He began at the top and worked his way down slowly, nuzzling, kissing and finally biting the back of her neck as he worked on the countless hooks and eyes that held the dress on her body.

  Marie stilled under his kisses, enjoying the feeling of her body responding, unfurling again for him, until it was all she could do not to beg him to rip the dress to shreds and take her immediately.

  At last she was naked.

  Dross threw her on the bed and ripped off his own clothes.

  He crawled atop her, resting on his elbows.

  “Do you feel up to this again?” he asked her, his jaw rippling with tension.

  “Yes, please,” Marie nodded.

  “Good girl,” he told her.

  He nuzzled her breasts and pressed a hand between her thighs.

  Every touch shot her through with need.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “We’ll take it slowly next time, right?” he returned teasingly.

  He was inside her all over again, the friction, the sweetness, the delirious pleasure, mounting and crashing all over her until she vibrated with it, crying his name as she came apart.

  Once she was sated, Dross’s muscles stiffened and he smothered his cries in her neck, shooting hot liquid deep inside her.

  He let his head drop on her shoulder.

  “You’ll be the death of me, girl,” he told her ardently.

  “Not anytime soon, I hope,” Marie teased.

  They lay in silence for a while. Marie was exhausted, but too keyed up from the events of the night to even consider sleep.

  She was the Matriarch.

  “I’ll miss him,” she said at length.

  “Ratcliffe?” Harry asked.

  “The dragon,” she said, remembering the energy bolt and the melted copper.

  “Come,” he said, gathering his clothes. “I have something to show you.”

  She cleaned up and dressed, and a few minutes later, they stood in the Ironwoods’ back garden.

  “Stand on the porch,” Dross instructed her.

  He strode to the middle of the yard and knelt in the snow.

  The area around him blurred, like waves of heat coming off a summer road, and the dark shape of him against the snow began to expand.

  His form grew and reshaped itself.

  He’d told her about his gift, but she wasn’t sure how much she believed him at the time.

  Now she had no doubt.

  The wavy haze dissipated, revealing a creature as tall as a tree.

  His body was covered in copper colored scales, just like the clockwork dragon. Wide leathery wings folded neatly at his his sides. His long, spiky tail lay flat and motionless on the ground behind him.

  Marie approached cautiously, and he turned and cocked his head at her.

  His eyes were a familiar burnished gold.

  She reached up a hand to stroke his massive cheek, but he offered her the top of his head.

  The scales were a warm, coppery color, but he was not made of metal, like the dragon.

  As she stroked him, he leaned down, spreading his wings out by his sides as if to make room on his back for her.

  “You don’t actually want me to get up there, do you?” she asked.

  The dragon nudged her posterior and lowered his head further still.

  Sucking in a deep breath, Marie scrambled gamely onto his broad back.

  She knew she probably should be afraid, but fear was the farthest thing from her mind.

  Her dragon’s wings opened with a rush of air and beat against the breeze.

  Together, they lifted into the sky.

  She screamed in joy and the dragon tossed his head back in what could only be a laugh.

  Then they headed for the stars.

  * * *

  THE END

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