Issue #8- A Shattered Clasp

A Shattered Clasp

*~~~~~*

Mikel pushes out the imposing door at the front of his keep, stepping down from the U shaped mansion he notices the dark sedan parked beside his Rover. Stopping in his drive he watches as the doors open and two men emerge bundled against the cold. The glyph`s on their foreheads glow brightly as a cloud passes before the round moon. As they exchange an imperceptible nod of heads he notes one is the light-haired messenger from last night. The other servant a towering black male with eyes fire lit from within.

Above him comes a sound like wet sheets flapping in the arctic wind and he looks skyward. Silhouetted ebony against the moon the dragon soars downward with lazy ease to light on his snow covered grounds. Sixty feet from snout to tail tip the crimson beast folds its leathery wings to its side to fix him with yellow eyes. Silently the males move to flank Vestra, bending to trace a wide circle in what snow remains around her. Once the circle is completed then the dragon shifts into its human form.

“Mikel. It has been ages,” Vestra opens allowing her auburn hair to fall freely over a perfectly tailored suit. Her feet remain bare as usual.

“Vestra. The pleasure is yours as always.” Mikel feels Dante moving over them in circles.

“Droll as ever,” she snaps barely keeping her sharp teeth from re-emerging,” The charm you wear upon that phenomenal chest is amusing. You`re bedding witches now?”

“A healing charm from a friend,” he answers as she begins to pace the thirty foot circle of muddy dead grass.

“Friend? Is that what you call them? I can think of a much more descriptive term for a witch. Slut springs to mind,” Vestra comments, each breath out through her nostrils showers the bitter air with sulfur and sparks. He disregards her catty comment for dragon’s despised witches for good reason. A powerful coven matriarch could easily dispel a dragons morphing ability.

“I see time hasn`t dulled your claws Vestra. Your lapdog said you had a message for me?” Mikel finds pleasure in the glare mustache man flings at him.

“My consort you mean?” she asks and Rayvenwing`s powerful shoulders rise and fall.”Wicked male,” the dragon mistress whispers appreciatively.”Someone tampers with your gates.”

“And you know this how?”

“Woman`s intuition?” she counters with glowing yellow eyes raking over him.

“Now who`s being droll?” Mikel inquires as his damp hair begins to crystallize.

“Your sense of humor has dwindled since your transgression against the Fey,” she says with a gleam of malevolence buried under the chit-chat. To see him bristle at the mention pleases her.

“Do you have information I can use or not Vestra?”

“You are magnificent when piqued Mikel. It makes me wanton for the old days.”

His arms fold over his chest as he waits in stony silence.

“I do. But it will cost you my dear ex-fiancée,” the dragon mistress purrs.