SUPERNATURAL
Publisher: Zebra
Coming August 30, 2011!
Click here for information page

EXCERPT (Unedited/Unproofed)

Ghleanna stood outside Bram's home. She was allowing him time to pick up a few things before they got their trip underway, and she was quite surprised.

"It's a castle."

"It is," he said, digging through his travel bag for who knew what while walking across the small courtyard. They'd shifted to human and put on clothes a few miles back and Ghleanna realized she'd forgotten how attractive Bram was as human. Actually...very attractive. Long silver hair framed his handsome face and brought out the deep blue of his eyes. His nose was flat and a little wide, making her want to poke at it with her finger; his lips full; his jaw square; and his hands and fingers long and elegant. He was as tall as Addolgar but not nearly as wide. It was clear he spent no long hours working with any weapon but the one he had attached to his shoulders but he wasn't so thin that he looked emaciated or weak. There was some muscle there—very nice muscle.

"Why?" she asked, gazing up at the tower attached to the castle. It wasn't a large building and it was a bit rundown, but it could last through a battle or two as the spears embedded into the castle wall and the bit of damage done to the gate could attest.

"Why what?" Honestly, was the dragon listening to her at all?

"Why do you live in a castle?" She thought only her father did that, Ailean the Wicked even going so far as to raise his offspring in one.

"I work with as many humans as dragons," he tripped on his way through the doorway, but seemed to barely notice and she briefly wondered if he did it every time he walked through there. "And humans simply don't feel comfortable coming to a cave to discuss business of any kind."

They walked into the hall and Bram finally looked up from his bag.

"Charles?" he called out. "Are you here?"

A human ran in from the back somewhere.

"I'm here, my lord. I'm here!"

"It's Bram, Charles. You can call me Bram."

"Of course, my lord. Uh...my Lord Bram."

Bram sighed and she knew he'd immediately given up.

"I need my papers for the Alsandair trip."

"Yes, my Lord...uh...Lord Bram...uh..."

"And that book on etiquette of the Desert Lands. I should refresh my memory."

"Oy," Ghleanna finally cut in. "Don't bring a whole bloody library. I'll not be carrying all that bloody crap there and back."

"I think I can manage a few books and papers by myself, Captain."

"You better," she muttered.

Bram faced her. "Are you going to be this difficult the entire trip?"

"Probably."

"Lovely."

He motioned to a large table covered in papers and books, then she noticed that nearly every wall in the hall had floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books and scrolls, but especially books. More books than she'd ever seen before in her life. She thought her mum had a lot—she didn't. And Ghleanna had a feeling there were even more books within the castle and the attached tower.

Gods, had he read all these books? Was it possible? He hadn't been alive for that long.

"You can sit there. I won't be long," he said while still searching through that blasted bag.

"Good. I want to meet with my brothers before the suns go down."

The dragon stopped, peered at her. "Whatever for?"

She frowned. Didn't they just have this conversation on the way here? "Because they're coming with us...to protect you? Remember?"

"Dammit, I'd put it out of my mind."

More like he'd hoped she'd changed hers. "It's better to be protected by five Cadwaladrs than just one."

"Perhaps, but your brothers hate me."

"Only Bercelak."

"No. I'm certain they all hate me."

"Don't be so full of yourself, my brothers barely know you exist."

Now he looked insulted. "So I'm meaningless?"

"To a Cadwaladr...yes."

"Then I'm so glad it's the Cadwaladrs protecting me."

And that sarcasm lashed across the room.

"You don't have to take it so personally. Most royals don't matter to us. So you don't especially not exist to us. Your just one of many royals that don't exist to us."

"Is any of that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Thought it might help."

"It didn't."

"I hope you don't always take things so personally. It'll be a long trip for us both if you do."

"Thanks so much for the warning." He dug through his travel bag again. "Blast and damnation! I can't find—"

"The terms of your proposed alliance agreement?" Charles asked, holding out a scroll to the royal.

"Oh," Bram said, taking the scroll. "There it is."

With a weary sigh, Ghleanna dropped into a chair and put her feet up on the table.

"Oh, my lady!" Charles cried, horrified. "Please." He rushed to the table and carefully lifted Ghleanna's boot-shod feet so he could remove the books and papers from under them.

"Sorry, Charlie," Ghleanna said with a smile. "And you can call me Ghleanna. I'm not a royal like Bram over there."

"Of course, my lady...uh...lady Gh—I mean...uh..."

"Or just Captain. You can call me Captain."

Appearing heartily relieved at being able to use a title, Charles smiled and said, "Yes, Captain."

Once he'd cleaned off the area, he returned her feet to their proper place.

"There you go, Captain." He turned back to Bram. "I'll gather all you require, my Lord."

"Excellent."

Ghleanna waited until Charles had rushed off before she asked, "Does he know then? What we are?"

"He knows what I am—and I'm sure he's guessed about you. I simply don't have time to run around hiding that particular fact from my assistant." Bram leaned against the table and asked Ghleanna, "Now, what about your battalion?"

"What about them?"

"Can't a few of them accompany us?"

"Are we here again? My brothers do not hate you," she insisted.

"They don't exactly respect me either."

"They don't respect anyone but our mother."

"Well, I understand that. Your mother's amazing."

"I know." Amazing and smart enough not to be taken as a fool by any male. She'd made Ailean work for her love, and work he did. "And I'm nothing like her."

"You have her freckles."

"You mean these bloody dots on my face?" She swiped at her face with her hands.

"You can't rub them off, Ghleanna," Bram told her with a laugh.

"I know. I know. I just hate having them."

"I like them." And he smiled a little. Was he laughing at her?

"Yeah...well..." She lowered her hands, forcing herself not to act so self-conscious. "You don't have to live with them."

He continued to stare at her, making her nervous, when he finally observed, "You're letting your hair grow out."

"What? Oh." She refused to run her hands through her hair. "Haven't had much call lately to keep it short."

She shrugged and pulled out one of the blades she kept in her boot. "Guess I can do that now."

He caught hold of her hand. "What are you planning to do with that?"

"Cut my hair. You were the one complaining about it."

"I didn't complain."

"Then you dislike my hair when it's short?"

"That isn't what I meant either."

She threw up her hands. "Then what the bloody hells did you mean?"

The royal's blue eyes briefly flared before he closed them and let out a breath. "You do wear the scales off my hide."

She knew that—enjoyed doing it, too. And that was wrong, wasn't it?

"Charles!" he suddenly bellowed, and the human charged back into the hall a few moments later.

"Yes, my lord...Bram...my Lord Bram...Lord—"

"Please take the captain to one of the rooms so that she can freshen up." He wrestled the blade from her hand, making Ghleanna laugh. She hadn't so in ages. It felt nice. "Perhaps you can also cut her hair for her. She prefers it short." He handed the blade to poor, confused Charles.

"Of course, my Lord...uh..."

"Do we have time for all that?" Ghleanna demanded.

"We do now." The royal turned his back on her, tossing over his shoulder, "I'll be in my study. Get me when she's done."

Ghleanna waited until the dragon was out of earshot. "Is he always so short of temper and patience?" she asked the servant.

"No, Captain. In fact, Lord Bram is considered the most patient and caring of beings in all the Southlands."

"Huh...must be me then."

Instead of trying to convince her that was inaccurate, Charles pointed to an alcove that would lead to the tower. "This way, Captain."