Dragon Dawn (Dinosaurian Time Travel) Read Free Page B

eyes. The muscles of his body were hard, his genital pouch bulging, proof of his power – and interest in her.
    Dawann looked around. Dozens of bejeweled, perfumed, and naked saurian courtiers and heavily muscled bodyguard drones stood behind him. Most wore blue contacts over their irises, a new style which Dawann had resisted adopting. The gossips at court had already spread their poison, noting she did this at her own peril, not realizing the Keeper had told her in private he loved her green eyes. 
    “Dawann?” the Keeper asked.
    He sniffed the air, and she knew from his intense stare her body still wafted the scent of fear. His eyes narrowed as he studied Dawann’s face, then he dismissed his followers with a sharp hiss and a flick of his powerful tail. 
    “Leave us now,” he demanded.
    They obeyed without a word. Bowing, they backed away and then to a saurian they whirled about and rushed off. Only the Keeper’s senior bodyguard, a towering, fang-jawed, dragon-green mutant named Slaven-varool, remained behind. 
    Dawann waited in breathless silence, watching as the fiercesome Slaven fingered the hilt of his laser knife. 
    “Go to my chambers,” the Keeper ordered Slaven. His tone was now more even-tempered, yet his great tail trembled as if he had the urge to whip someone.
    Slaven cast a brief, icy glare at Dawann. “As you wish, my lord,” he said as he backed out of his presence, then turned and left.
    The Keeper waited until the last of Slaven’s footfalls had died. “What is it, Dawann?” he asked, staring into her eyes. This time, he lowered his head to her neck and lightly touched his teeth to her skin.
    Dawann’s stomach knotted, for the Keeper’s gesture was filled with implicit meaning. Immediately, she let herself go limp in his arms, showing complete submission to his will. 
    “My throat is at your mercy,” she said.
    Into her earhole, he whispered, “What did you see?”
    “I...” Before she could get the thought out, her brain rebelled, and her mouth clamped shut. No , she told herself. You must not say anything to him .
    His head reared back, his bronze skin deepening in a show of anger. “Tell me.”  
    Dawann forced herself to calm. She concentrated on the Keeper’s head feathers. Shiny as polished copper blades, they had recently been dressed with fragrant bango oil. She inhaled the sweet scent and lied, “I saw a Shurrr rat, my lord. By the statues. It merely startled me. They are so filthy.”
    His baleful expression cleared, replaced by a look of disgust. “A Shurrr rat? In the Great Hall?”
    “Yes. I overreacted, my lord. The rat must have escaped from the kitchens. The drones are sometimes careless.”
    “I see.” He released his grip and stroked his chin. 
    “May I leave, my lord?”
    “Yes. Go.” Staring distractedly down the hallway, the Keeper waved her off.
    Heart thumping in relief, Dawann walked away without looking back. Only the soft click, click, click of her claws echoed off the floors.
    Once inside her bedchamber, with the door closed tightly behind her, she felt a little better. 
    She drew a breath and looked around. How long before the Keeper sensed her deception and discovered her truth?
    And what exactly was the truth? What was she remembering?

 
    Chapter 3
     
    “I can’t explain myself , I’m afraid, sir,” said Alice, “because I’m not myself, you see.”
    “I don’t see,” said the Caterpillar.
    ~Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
     
    Hunched over her thinkbook, Dawann spent most of the afternoon trying to find an entry about her origins, but she met with no success. The lack of information puzzled her. Everyone had an entry; at least, that’s what she’d always heard. Frustrated, she also found herself wondering why she had never tried to find her records before now. Why had she been so unconcerned? What caused her lack of inquisitiveness? Sheer laziness?
    Soft clawing sounded at the door. Without looking up