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COVER SUMMARY
Jaded Beasts III,
Dragon & Snake
Erotic-ahh
Digest ISSN 1555-5496 Vol. 06-21
Dragon – These mystical beings know they are
intellectually talented, and can find treasures in places
and people. Though gentle, yet forceful in their attitudes
towards life and people, they are well liked and quite
passionate about all things.
Snake – Of a passionately intense nature, this
perceptive being can sometimes procrastinate too much. They
are a wealth of knowledge, charismatic, and strong-hearted
in both their relationships and the things they accomplish
in life.
Dragon's Wish – Mae
Powers
Can a tormented dragon
shifter and a battered princess’ growing passions withstand
a tyrant and a curse that could kill or free them both?
Seth’s Seduction –
Emery LaRue
On the battle fields of Drodan, a shifter dragon saves a
life for his own. Eiandra knows her savior Seth could be a
dangerous seduction.
Serpentine
Magick–
Ravyn
Reccio
The Serpent Lord thought he could conquer
any woman, until he came across the mysterious beauty known
as the Dark Witch.
Snakes And Ladders
– Anna Fallon
Lily Marchant loves her fire-fighting job. She loves
pythons. Volunteering in India combines these and adds a
double helping of danger, and mystical passion.
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EXCERPTS
Dragon's Wish
by
Mae Powers
Chapter One
Laora
dreamed of a large man, other than her husband.
She also
dreamt of dragons.
One, in
particular, shifted from man-beast to full glorious dragon.
Oddly enough, the dragon reminded her of the precious statue
her husband, Kragus, had given to her on the day they became
engaged to be married. In her dreams, she watched him change
from a small statuette to a man-dragon and then into a huge
dragon beast.
The dreams
hadn’t started right away. Occasionally, the thoughts
entered her mind, but those first ones were foggy. Then
she’d seen a face. Handsome with hard jaw lines and slightly
weathered by wind and time, she’d assumed. As the dreams got
more vivid, a man, slightly taller and bigger than her
husband, appeared in her nightly imaginations. Where her
warrior husband stood dark and tall, the dragon-man had
glorious golden hair, spreading thick and long around his
broad shoulders, giving him a wickedly enchanting appearance
that appealed to her feminine senses.
Her senses
overloaded during her visions. His teal-colored eyes seemed
to vibrate with knowledge, and she wanted to melt into their
mysterious depths—eyes that promised her freedom, salvation
and oh so much more. Just as his body offered a salvation of
freedom to her distraught emotional and physical senses.
Her last
dream of him, a few days ago, filtered through her mind. In
it, he’d promised to cherish her, to give her all the
passion she’d always longed for, in any way she wanted. His
man body was hulking, towering over her average height, yet
part of her was not afraid of him.
However,
her shaky loyalty to her husband, Kragus, made her afraid of
where her mind wanted to escape to—into the arms of her
dreamy man-beast. In the beginning, before the dragon lord
invaded her dreams, she’d been happy with Kragus. At least,
she thought she had.
Barely a
month after they wed, his attitude toward her changed
drastically. He took her more roughly in their bed, no
longer caring if her own desires were fulfilled. He left the
castle more often. And, each time he thrust into her without
care, she’d felt a little more drained. That had been nearly
a year ago. She did not know how much more she could endure.
She’d been
a priestess of the Sherenzade religion, but a princess to
this very kingdom as well. Her father sent her to be raised
at the monastery when her mother died during Laora’s
eleventh year. Then she’d learned that, upon his deathbed,
her inconsiderate father had given her hand in marriage to
his favorite warlord, Kragus.
Still, in
the beginning, he’d wooed her gently. He’d even been
considerate and loving as he taught her earthly delights.
Then the changes started. Kragus told her it was her fault.
When she dared to back-talk him, he’d slapped her. Laora no
longer had anyone to turn to. Kragus seeped insidiously into
her people’s hearts, making them think he could do no wrong.
What was she then, but a figurehead he married for the power
she brought him?
There was
much she still didn’t understand about Kragus, or herself,
for that matter. Her mother had been a sorceress princess
for Sherenzade, too, but retained powers on the day her
father married her. Laora’s mother told her the powers did
not come to their line always, and that, sometimes, it
skipped a generation. Some females of their birth-heritage
had only small amounts of magic. Mostly they did not come
into them until they mated, which was another reason she’d
married Kragus, if she was truthful.
The other
reasons being, duty and the law said she must marry.
Kragus
frightened her at first, but she had found him handsome and,
when he went out of his way to woo her, she thought herself
in love with him. Now she was uncertain where her loyalties,
or her heart, lay anymore. Perhaps her naivety did her in.
She was at a loss as to what to do now. She wanted to stand
up to Kragus, to tell him he could not rule her
kingdom
or her body and mind like he had of late.
What was a
princess to do when no one would listen? Even her childhood
friends cared little about her any more. She had no one to
confide in or to talk with. She thought long and hard but
could not come up with any answer, except to try and please
Kragus. Constantly, he tormented her, but there were times
when he seemed to mellow.
It was on
the days that he was ruthless, and then left her, that she
often picked up the statuette, the first present he’d given
her. He had listened to her in those early days. She’d told
him how much she liked the legends and myths about dragons.
Felt they were real. But she’d never seen a real one. So
he’d gotten her the small glorious statue on one of his
travels, he’d told her—travels she often wished she could go
on with him.
Unless it
was a required event, Kragus didn’t allow her much freedom
outside her own suites. She felt like a prisoner in her
home, most of the time. Still, there were times she’d snuck
out when Kragus was out of town. She’d learned how to
accomplish this over the last few months.
She had
discovered something about herself. And it had come from a
dream, one in which her dragon appeared one night. He’d told
her she still possessed a bit of power; some Kragus had not
totally drained. She could make herself disappear for a few
minutes at a time, a slight-of-body where no one could
detect her moving around.
It was long
enough to enable her to move around the castle at will. In
the beginning, that’s all she did. Then she found a
disguise, like a city dweller wore, and had gone about in
the town. She didn’t stay away for long, so that she
wouldn’t be missed. If she didn’t strain herself too much,
she learned she could slight-shift out of anyone’s view long
enough to leave the castle. Then she could handle the power
long enough to return home when she’d done her visit in the
town.
Disappearing seemed to drain her though, leaving her
exhausted, so she was careful not to do it often. Yet, it
gave her something to look forward to. She’d been doing it
only for the last couple of months and still didn’t know to
what lengths she could use it. She stayed in the comfortable
confidence of what she’d recently learned until she could
test her new ability and do more.
She came
back to the dragon dreams, for it was because of those
visions she’d learn of her power. She recalled it vividly,
and what her man-beast looked like in his fully-shifted
dragon form.
As a dragon, his scales were a teal-and-jade blend in color,
with the shinier scales getting thicker towards his long
tail, whereas they were fine-shelled toward his long neck.
Though much larger in dragon physique, his muscular, elegant
body, with its short tail and long neck, was magnificent to
behold. Like his dragon-man form, he had five clawed hands,
and his powerful limbs splayed five digits on each large
foot that ended in long-toed claws. His huge wingspan, with
its sparkling gold, jade and teal gossamer-like wings, was
graceful and beautiful, running from the edge of his
shoulders to the middle of his back. A membranous frill ran
from the base of his neck, continuing smoothly, like silken
tendrils flying in the wind, down his long spine, also
ending near his buttocks.
His large, thick-lipped mouth
displayed jaggedly-sharp teeth, almost looking like a
lopsided smile. Gold-flamed tendrils, like his hair when a
humanoid male, flew like wisps of wild wonder around the
strong face and jaws. His short snout, with its round
nostrils, twitched, as he looked her over with those
luminous, almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with a myriad of
greens and blues in their deep depths. The two horns, etched
above its thick eyebrows, extended like coruscating bones of
gold ivory, menacing yet alluring, much like the single row
of small hard-boned spikes, which protected his long neck.
He was ominous, and yet dangerously beautiful, to behold.
And in that particular dream, the
dragon had embraced her with his huge wings and arms,
promising to be there for her, should she ever wish it. She
glanced now over to her side table near the big ornate bed
she shared with Kragus. There her small dragon statue sat,
glittering like a small ray of hope, its eyes luminous and
curiously, it seemed, watching her every movement.
She sighed and almost went to it.
She looked at the sundial standing ornately on the open
balcony of her bedroom. Soon, Kragus would be home. She
needed to prepare for him; otherwise, he might get angry
with her again. He was due back any time from town where,
she knew, he caroused with his warrior friends.
She hated war and wished Kragus
was not planning to invade other countries. His need for
dominance and power bordered on cruelty and tyranny. How he
kept the people of the kingdom under his control she had yet
to figure out but was determined to one day, if at also
possible. Sighing again, she went over to her vanity to
prepare for her husband’s return.
Seth’s Seduction
By
Emery LaRue
The scent of death
lay heavy in the air. The two warring kingdoms left many
dead or wounded, and the acrid smoke was thick in his
nostrils. He snorted and suppressed the groan that movement
evoked. He flew lower to the ground, and another scent drew
his attention. He followed that path, hoping to find the one
with the special blood to heal him.
As a shifter dragon,
Seth had been on his mating pursuit and was caught up in a
battle he knew nothing of. The damn humans had wounded him,
and, had his body not been in full desire, he would have
realized the danger. Now, he would have to locate the
precious blood that would heal him and expend more energy.
He would have to be in his human form for him to heal.
He circled the body
on the ground. It lay covered in rags, flags and blood. He
breathed deeply of the essence and cringed again as his
wound tore and pain shot through him. He knew the man under
the cloth to be alive; he human’s blood still smelled of
life. A twitch confirmed it. Before Seth could make any
decisions, it was made for him.
The sounds of
soldiers, approaching to finish their kills, spurred him
into action. Seth gathered the bloody mess in his mighty
clawed feet and took flight. He flew high enough to be out
of range of the men on their horses.
A moan drew his eyes
to the bundle he carried. The wind shifted the rags, and he
realized he carried a woman. A young woman. The mixture of
mingled blood and smoke had hidden that fact from him.
Regardless, she
carried what he needed to survive. He would take her to
Castle Bestore and keep her alive long enough to heal. If
she died, so be it. He wondered briefly how she carried the
blood of the dragon inside of her and just what had brought
her to that field of death.
* * * *
Eiandra woke slowly,
her movements slight as she tested the aches and pains she
knew would be there. Surprised, she felt little discomfort
as another thought hit her. She was no longer on a field of
death. The bedding under her was soft and warm. She could
smell the scent of sage, not blood and gore. No screams in
the night, only the crackle of a fire.
She opened her eyes
just enough to look around, but not give away she was alert.
Had he found her? Would she have to fight for her freedom,
yet again? Her fear eased as she looked around the room. She
was alone, but Mortimer did not have her. This wasn’t his
home. It looked too fine, and she did not feel his
presence.
Still, she felt a
presence close by. Had she been rescued and healed? Eiandra
recalled being struck down by a sword. She remembered the
look in the soldier’s eyes, knowing he hadn’t meant to harm
her. His hesitation with her cost him his life. His blood
had mingled with her own.
Sitting up in the
bed, she examined her clothing. A gown of the softest
material graced her body. She slowly lifted the hem and
noticed the wound on her belly began already healing. She
always recovered quickly, thanks to the blood of her great
grandfather, but never this fast. How long had she been
asleep?
Footsteps outside
the door drew her attention, and she swiftly lay back,
drawing the covers over her body. The door opened, and she
fought to control her fear as whoever entered drew near. A
finger caressed her cheek and pulled the cover away from her
body. She tried not to flinch as hands lifted her gown,
examining her wound. Again, she was covered, but the
intruder did not move.
“I know you are
awake.”
The voice was deep,
and she couldn’t control the shiver that raced over her
body. Slowly, she opened her eyes and faced her captor. He
was very tall, and shadows from the screen on the bed
partially covered his face. Wide shoulders narrowed into
lean hips. His leggings fit him like a second skin.
“Who are you?”
“So, you are awake,
and you speak.” A smile warmed his voice. “I am Seth, and
you are in my home.”
She scooted as far
up the bed as she could, holding the covers to her like a
shield. He sat on the edge of the bed and faced her. She
could not swallow the gasp that left her in a rush. His hair
was black as the darkest of nights, but his eyes were the
color of brilliant sapphire. She found him the handsomest
man she’d ever seen. And he was a dragon. She could sense
it. She could always sense these things. It lay in her
blood.
“You have no reason
to fear me.”
“Why am I here?”
“I have healed you
and have taken very little from you.”
“Taken from me?” Had
he taken her virtue while she healed? “What have you taken
from me?”
His eyes narrowed,
and she knew he had guessed her thoughts. Apparently, her
rescuer was an honorable dragon.
“You are still
intact.” His eyes softened slightly. “Your blood is
powerful. I only require small amounts to heal.”
“My blood?”
“I know you are not
simple, woman. So, stop questioning everything I say.”
She flinched, but he
never raised his voice.
“I am sorry, sir.
But it is not every day I get carried off by a shifter
dragon and am told he has been drinking my blood.”
He watched her with
eyes that seemed to see right into her soul. A strange heat
began to work its way through her body, settling between her
thighs.
“My name is Seth. I
told you that, so please address me as such. You have the
dragon’s blood in you.”
“Yes, thanks to my
grandfather.”
“Yet, you are not
shifter.”
“No, I only carry
the blood.”
He nodded, and his
eyes grew brighter. She began to relax. Had he wanted to
hurt her, she would have known by now.
“What is your name?”
“I am Eiandra. Thank
you, Seth, for saving my life.”
He nodded again and
stood. As he walked to the window, she couldn’t help but
admire his body. Who would have ever guessed that a huge,
powerful dragon lurked underneath? Again, the heat settled
in her belly. What it was, she felt unsure about.
Serpentine
Magick
By
Ravyn Reccio
Prologue
Before the dawn of time, Draygen Zahndevahl, a Dark Lord
Serpent shifter, feasted upon the blood of his victims and
controlled the Underworld with his dark magick. With hair as
dark as the shadows of night and eyes sinisterly beautiful
like a jaded snake, he looked so seductive and piercing,
women could not resist him.
As his father’s sole successor to the throne, Draygen joined
him, Lord Draconis, whenever council was in session with the
warlords of the lands. Lord Draconis Zahndevahl spread fear
and terror throughout Terra, and was equally feared by the
women. Many rumors and dark stories had been spun about the
demon shape shifter warlord and his bastard son.
The women often told him his long and lean body reminded
them of the power of a sea serpent sliding across the waves
of a dark, stormy ocean. The serpent lord thought he could
conquer any woman until he learned about the mysterious
beauty of the Dark Witch.
Legends claimed for centuries, that a Dark Witch had been
the downfall of many great warlords. Dark warlords, like
Draygen himself, who found themselves unable to resist her
beauty. Her wicked ways tricked them all into believing she
indeed was their slave; where in fact, the men became slave
to their own sexual desires. The Dark Witch brought out
those deepest desires hidden in every man, bewitching their
minds with such wild sexual fantasies, the likes of which
only she could fulfill.
As the night mist rolled in, the villagers of Terra locked
their homes so no man or beast could gain access. Each
night, the women of child-bearing age would force themselves
to drink a tonic, leaving their wombs temporarily barren in
case the serpent lord found his way into their beds.
Then, one night Draygen seduced Morgana, the Seer promised
to his Father, the High King. His punishment for seducing
his father’s Seer, a virgin who was never to have been
touched, affected him even now. He’d caused the banishment
of the Seer, and his own suffering lay in knowing he’d never
find sexual fulfillment ever again. That fact brought him
great sadness. It seemed no goodness or humanity resided in
Darkest Eden.
Draygen received visions of Morgana, but he could not
understand them. Time and space seemed to open a portal to
both the past and present. A thick mist appeared, opening
doorways, allowing the Dark Lord a glimpse of what was to be
and what once was. On the left, he presumed pictured past
visions of how his lust betrayed him, just as it had his
father before him, on the Night of the Serpent Moon hundreds
of years ago.
The visions on the right bestowed upon his eyes her cradling an infant
in her arms, rocking him gently to sleep as she breastfed
him. In his mind, Draygen mocked the powers-that-be for
showing him his sin and the one thing he craved, a child of
his own. He had been cursed, never to sire a child. His own
dark magick could not make the vision before him any
clearer. He could not work out why the visions came, except
to haunt him like his dreams. His voice echoed loudly
throughout the castle as he began to chant an incantation to
bring the woman closer.
“I call upon the powers of Darkness which flow through my
blood. I command the Dark Forces below. Bestow upon me your
Dark Gift. Show me this woman’s face so I may see who she
is. Allow me to see further into this dream you place before
me.”
His voice bellowed throughout each and every
corridor of the cold isolated castle. The Dark Lord repeated
the chant over and over again to no avail. His pleas went
unanswered.
Draygen planned to ask the Celestial Mage, sister of the
Great Owl and aunt to Morgana, for help. He wondered if
either of them might have answers at the High Court.
Morgana’s mother, the Great White Owl, was known all over
the vast land of Terra as she sat on the right hand of the
High Court. Her healing methods preceded her as well as her
ability to change or curse one’s fate. It was the Celestial
Mage that sealed Draygen’s fate after he was caught in the
act with one of the Virgins of her kindred. The Celestial
Mage came into service of his family over a thousand years
ago. She served many great Dark Lords throughout her time
and never denied anyone happiness until now.
As legend had it, Morgana was to be Seer to the House of
White Wolf in the adjoining district that would have made
Terra a protectorate of the small village. Morgaine, the
sister to the Celestial Mage, had been the one who tipped
the scales of balance in favor of the Dark Arts. Draygen’s
cold heart grew heavy. He tired of this life and wished for
a normal one. His deepest passion, of having a child of his
own, and a mate to live out the rest of his immortal life,
played with his emotions. His last thoughts, before the mist
washed away, were how he might change the past.
Morgana, daughter of the Great White Owl, was blessed with
many gifts and attributes because of her bloodline. Being
born of a shape shifter father and a Fey mother provided her
with great magick. This magick would pass to her offspring,
the son of Dark Lord Draygen. Unlike her Aunt Morgaine,
Morgana did not choose to use her power for evil. But,
unfortunately, it seemed her twin sister, Vivienne, decided
to follow in their evil aunt’s practices. The word around
the place was that Vivienne performed her evil deeds in
Morgana’s name, pretending to be her. Vivienne had even been
seen at the council posing as her—Morgana—and begging the
downfall of Morgaine.
As the two witches worked closely together, Morgana knew
they would seek to control the power of Lord Draygen. Her
twin sister’s desire to see Morgana’s demise pained her.
Vivienne’s jealousy had gone too far this time, but Morgana
wondered how best to stop her. However, any discovery of
Morgana would put her son’s life in danger as he stood to
gain the most power when older. Born to rule, her son would
be sought after by the dark witches. This was the reason her
mother, the Great White Owl, spirited her away. All others
believed her banished. Apparently, Morgaine would not stop
short of killing Morgana.
Morgana watched the villagers closely as she sat on the
highest mountaintop in the kingdom of Darkest Eden. Darkest
Eden was touted to be the birthplace of the Dark Witch,
Morgaine. Morgana learned
that in Morgaine’s younger years, she found out about
seduction from others like her and those who came before
her. She studied all she could to gain what she wanted in
life from those weaker than herself. No man could escape her
means of entrapment. She came in their dreams, toying with
them, as they slept. During these dreams, she would drain
them of their most precious asset – their seed which
sustained her youth and beauty. Her body subjugated all the
men of the town. All of them begged her to use them, for
none could control the wild sexual desires which had fallen
over them. The one thing she coveted most was a position on
the council, like her sisters, the Great Owl and the
Celestial Mage. When she was denied this, Morgana knew her
aunt’s jealousy and rage became paramount. Along the way, in
an urge to be seen as powerful, Vivienne had fallen in line
with the dark magicks.
Lord Draygen was much the same in his feeding habits. He
seduced women for sexual relief, in turn giving him the
blood he needed to survive. The snake tattoos on his arms
came to life and, at the peak of his orgasm, struck the
woman and fed on her blood. But it hadn’t been this way for
her. Morgana had been violated by Lord Draygen on one of his
many nights, seeking out his insatiable hunger. He looked
for the one maiden yet to ingest the bitter tonic to avoid
bearing a child. As luck would have it, Morgana’s cycle had
passed, and she was very strong-willed and defiant in
refusing to drink the potion. Morgana loved the Dark Lord
Draygen; she wanted to bear his child and belong to him. She
knew, inside, he harbored the need to love and be loved; he
just did not know what love was.
Her constant refusal to drink the potion brought about many
confrontations with her mother. As the eldest daughter of
the Great Owl, a young Morgana openly boasted of the
powerful magick within her family. Vivienne, being only
minutes younger, never gave her mother any trouble but
showed signs of jealousy to her sister, quietly seeking out
the dark magick that called out to her.
Morgana’s destiny changed the night Draygen came to her and
took her virginity. Now she had to go to him, to risk their
son’s life, before anymore of this madness continued. If he
fell completely under the spell of Vivienne and Morgaine,
they would use their sexual power to control him.
Despite what her mother advised, Morgana knew she must go to
him and convince him she was the real Morgana. She toyed
with a tiny serpent made of gold, its eyes made of jade. The
gemstone shone in the same color as Draygen’s eyes. Eyes she
longed to look into again. This magickal snake would be the
proof she needed. He’d given it to her as a pledge of his
loyalty. The golden serpent belonged to his family, passed
from ruling male to his intended bride. That day, Lord
Draygen pledged himself to her, but her mother, the Great
Owl, took her away before she saw him again. Her mother said
Lord Draygen would do as his father wished and would be
cursed for his actions. She was to forget him and take care
of the babe who would rule. But Morgana saw Draygen’s eyes
and dark hair every time she looked upon her son. Forgetting
Draygen was not an option.
With the rise of the full moon, the town folk would expect
Morgaine to come and play havoc with the people of the
village, looking for a new male to enslave. She also knew
the women of the town wanted to be rid of her before more
men fell victim to her seductive ploys. She could picture
her niece, Vivienne, posing as a simple peasant, a single
voice going before the Dark Lord Draygen on the night of the
Serpent Moon, under the guise of her glamour spell, to plead
for his help. The Night of the Serpent Moon, the one night
of the year on which the Dark Lord held court to atone for
his own sins and listen to the voices of the people in his
kingdom. Morgana was not sure what her sister and aunt
played at, but she knew it would have no good end if she let
it be.
Snakes And Ladders
By
Anna Fallon
Chapter One
Lily watched the skin peel from the back of the Python.
Glistening new scales reflected the sunlight beating down.
Mesmerized, a wanton shudder engulfed her slim-line body.
Some said she possessed the body of a snake. No particular
shapeliness, no flaring of the hips, just a lean, muscular
frame.
Not at all masculine, her hips sashayed in an erotic manner,
which drew attention from men. Lily did not try to
walk sexily; her body movement displayed a natural
undulation. Very much like the movement of a snake, she
supposed. Her eyes were still transfixed on the miracle of
nature before her, a sight rarely seen by the human eye, to
witness the shedding counted her among a chosen few now
watching this spectacular event. A regular visitor at the
Australian Reptile Park, Lily had been thrilled to hear of
their special display. For six months, the Pythons would be
here. The shedding was a bonus. No one expected it, but
everyone sat in awe of it. Lily lived only forty-five
minutes away, in Newcastle, and, if anything special like
this cropped up, she could drop in anytime.
Unfortunately, those chosen few sat with her now. The
reptile sanctuary did not represent the place Lily imagined
her first shedding to take place. Filled with wonderful
imagery of India, Lily stuffed a mouthful of popcorn in and
chewed slowly, not shifting her gaze in the slightest. The
Python slithered a little and broke away from the old skin.
How Lily wished a human could do that, shake off the skin of
the past and head into the future, a clean, shiny new
person.
Lily did not seem to fit comfortably into the life carved
out before her. Estranged from her mother, her one brother
off ‘finding himself’ and her father killed by fire five
years ago meant she led a lonely life. Her only friends
seemed to be workmates and pythons. She truly loved pythons,
especially the Indian Python she watched now. They could
grow twenty feet long and weigh two hundred pounds. Two
hundred pounds of writhing muscle. The snake now slid
completely away from its excess baggage and continued to
bask. Lily shivered delicately and imagined her hand
caressing those bright new scales.
Everybody assumed a snake to be slimy to touch. Nothing
could be further from the truth. The scales felt smooth and
bumpy all at the same time. The pure muscular ripples of the
body of a snake could be nothing short of arousing in Lily’s
mind. Imagining a man so slim and lithely muscular, sliding
over her body and wrapping himself around hers came pretty
close to perfect in her mind. As long as he doesn’t eat
mice! A surreptitious giggle escaped.
A couple of hardened stares came her way. Stuff it, you
lot. No law against laughing. As the shrill sound of her
beeper imposed on the quiet, Lily swore under her breath.
Damn! Not another fire already? With three whole days
off, the beeper would only go off in a dire emergency. Oh
God. Hostile eyes from the small bunch of onlookers
glared at her. Quickly switching the irritating noise off,
she ran back into the reptile park office and called the
down town fire station.
“Chief Peters,” a male voice answered.
“Chief, what’s up?”
“Ah, Lily, yes…”
Lily knew he would recognize her voice. After all, she was
the only female fighter in his unit. Following in the
footsteps of her father, she had wanted to make him proud.
The job ended his life. Lily’s mother seemed so sure her
daughter would quit the silly idea of becoming a
professional firefighter after that. Lily hadn’t changed her
mind. Her mother refused to speak to, or have anything to do
with, Lily, ‘until you come to your senses’, she’d said. But
Lily loved her job, especially the ladder rescues. So proud
of her achievements, Lily helped calm many a hysterical
woman and child, coaxing them to safety. Many times, she
helped operate the hose in the hard-to-reach spots.
Yes, the fires could be very dangerous, but she loved it. If
her mother couldn’t understand then she could go without her
daughter. Damned stubborn…All these thoughts filled
her head, and then Chief Peters’ voice brought her back to
reality.
“It’s not a local fire emergency, but they have called every
available fire fighter to an immediate meeting. I want to
get together a group from Newcastle as we have a good deal
of experience with the rough Australian terrain. Get here as
soon as you can, Lily.”
“On the way, Boss. ETA fifteen minutes.” She ended the call.
Sounds intriguing.
* * * *
“We need fifty volunteers. It won’t be pretty, maybe quite
dangerous, but we’ll be helping to save a lot of the world’s
unique flora and fauna. Not to mention human lives. Those
who say yes just step up here, and I’ll take your details.
If you can’t then that’s okay, too. We’ll have enough of a
time here, being fifty fighters short. So, if any of you,
who can’t go, can step up to extra shifts for a week, it
would be appreciated.”
Lily did not hesitate one second. India, home to her beloved
python, called for world help. Raging wildfires ravaged the
lands, and the unique habitats of many species would be
destroyed if help didn’t come. Winds fuelled the fires, and
every available person in India had fought it for the past
week. If help didn’t come, India would lose much of the
industries in farming and timber, and their water supplies
would be soiled. Lily worried mostly about the pythons.
Already an endangered species from trophy hunting,
snake-skin-boot-wearing poachers, they looked forward to a
possible decline in their natural habitat. Who would be
thinking of them?
Lily pushed through the throng of co-workers, all talking,
milling around and speaking into their cell phones. She
needed to call no one. Each and every one of them had valid
passports and up-to-date vaccinations for just such an
event. Lily’s unit made sure of it. In fact, she’d never
felt more ready for anything.
“I’m in,” she said to Chief Peters.
“You sure, Lily? It’s going to be pretty rugged over there,
along with the threat of wild animals.”
“Chief, put my name down. You know I can handle it. Besides,
a change of scenery will be nice.”
“Fine, I will. But, Lily, do me one favor? At least, call
your mother, and let her know.”
Chief Peters had been best friends with Lily’s dad, Barry.
He always asked about her mother Carmel. The estrangement
seemed to worry him. Once upon a time, the family shared a
closeness, and the Chief became part of the family life they
enjoyed.
“Lily, I know you miss your father. God knows I miss the
best friend I ever had. But what hurt just as much is seeing
the family unit crumble over petty arguments. It’s not what
your father would have wanted. Look, if something happens
over there, do you really want to leave things this way with
your mother?”
Lily considered his words for a moment.
“I didn’t want her to not speak to me. I love being a
Firey…sorry, fire fighter,” Lily apologized, knowing how
Chief Peters hated slang terms for their job. She continued,
“It’s in my blood. Why can’t my mother understand that? She
cannot dictate my life.”
“Lily, listen and, just for a moment, think. Your mother
lost the one person in the world she loved beyond
recognition. Now she has to worry about her only daughter,
as well. Your brother is already off back-packing around the
world. Can’t you see she just can’t handle anymore worry?
Even if she won’t budge, at least leave this country knowing
you told her you love her.”
Lily knew the chief spoke the truth. Five years, such a long
time to go without the family. Throwing herself into the
fire fighter training, plus her work at the hospital, kept
her busy enough to never have to recall the night her father
died. So proud of his little girl wanting to be just like
him, Lily intended to see nothing ever took away that
feeling. She strived for excellence, and she’d achieved it.
Seeing the pleading in the older man’s eyes, Lily conceded
the truth. She missed her mother. He was right. She must try
to make things right. Not ever sharing a true love with
someone, Lily could only imagine how lonely her mom must be.
“Yes, I guess I have been a little selfish. I will go see
her.”
Chief Peters hugged her. “Lily, I wish your father could be
here to see you now. At twenty-five, with a stubborn streak
just like him. Give my best to your mom.”
“I will, Chief. Thanks.”
“We fly out first light tomorrow, so meet here at four in
the morning and I’ll introduce you to your Chief for the
mission. From now on, until you come home, you’ll answer to
him.”
“I’ll be here.”
Back in her car now, Lily remembered the raucous laugh of
her dad. A big man, he would pick up her mom and swing her
around. They’d all laugh at her mom’s false protests. Her
dad bought her a small python as a pet many years ago. Long
since dead, the love of a much misunderstood animal remained
steadfast. Concentrating on her driving as the traffic
weaved in and out, Lily finally made her way to the freeway.
It took an hour’s cruise-time to get home. A long five years
since Lily set foot in her childhood home. Her heart
quickened a little in anticipation of all those memories
flooding back.
Each time she called her mom to try and work out their
disagreements, they’d end up in another argument. Well. I
guess I can always try one more time. Lily never wanted
to get close to anybody after her dad died in the fire. He
saved three kids. Threw the last one out to Chief Peters
just before the burning building collapsed around him. Cited
as a hero, a dead hero. Lily considered how the chief
must have felt watching his best friend die before his eyes,
powerless to help. Recollection flooded back of her parent’s
cuddling on the sofa at night and the looks shared between
them. She remembered how her dad followed Joe’s football
career and never missed one game as he climbed toward the
big leagues. Lily remembered the rowdy sports on television
Dad shared with the Chief on many occasions.
Yes indeed, Lily now recognized her selfishness in all of
this. So busy thinking about her loss and how she could get
through it, she promptly forgot the pain of the others. The
fire fighting, heralded as a way to feel close to her dad,
in all honesty, became the way Lily hid from her pain. Even
more so, it helped her hide from the pain of those she loved
most. Her brother, Joe, her mom, Chief Peters, all loved and
missed her dad, just as much as she did. Time she grew up
and dealt with the loss, get this family back together
again. Dad would hate this situation. His family unit, the
most important thing of all to him, now lay crumbled. How
ironic that this tragic event could draw them closer and not
have the opposite effect.
* * * *
“No way! Peters. No way am I taking a woman on this trip.
It’s too dangerous. I’ll have enough to worry about without
mussed-up hair and chipped nails.”
“Damn it, Hughes, get your head out of your ass and come
into the twenty-first century. Anybody would think you’re my
age instead of thirty. She’s capable. Her dad was the finest
this city has ever seen. And I’m still your Chief.”
“Sorry, Chief. I already have enough to worry about, is all.
Women fighters and I don’t get along. I haven’t time to baby
sit.”
“Well, you can stop worrying about this one. She’s going,
and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it, save stay
home yourself. We don’t have volunteers crawling from the
woodwork. As it is, we only have twenty-five on such short
notice. Lily Marchant is one of our best. If you have a
brain in that chauvinistic head of yours, you’d welcome the
chance of some intelligent female insight.”
This comment hurt Rob a little. He’d never considered
himself a chauvinist. This would be his first position in
command. A place he’d coveted since he started in the fire
department. This one placement could spell great things for
his career and put him into Chief Peter’s shoes one day. Rob
knew he would worry about a woman more, and that might
distract him from the job. It seemed he had no choice.
She’ll probably be one of those Amazonian, masculine types,
anyway.
Rob recently transferred to this unit. Moved states, from
Western Australia to New South Wales, when the position
became available in Newcastle he applied. With his
background and qualifications, he secured the job. Rob
wanted to be chief of the biggest and the best in Sydney
eventually. Right here, at this unit in Newcastle, would be
a great start and leading the volunteer squad in India could
set him up to be chief. Auguring a chance to prove himself
in India thrilled him; he didn’t want his soft spot for
women to interfere.
His mom raised him to respect women and nurture the female
presence in his life. Rob left no time for love interests.
His schedule had no room for emotional connections. He
didn’t expect any woman to wait around for him to get where
he wanted to be. All his spare time went to the fire
fighters.
“Okay, guess I have no choice then. I just hope she can do
her job and not get into any trouble.”
“You’ll be left in her wake, boy. Now, let’s get through
this checklist. You’ll need some sleep. It’s an early start
tomorrow. The Army says they’ll freight everyone in Hercules
planes. We have about eighty all up. You’ll be in charge of
our group, and called on to monitor the other groups’
placements. Think you can handle that?” Chief Peters cast
him a concentrated glance.
“No problems, Chief.” Rob knew he could, even though a few
butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He could handle it.
Busying himself with the last of the preparation, Rob felt
sure sleep would not be his friend tonight.
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