Alan Troop: The Dragon DelaSangre

My bride sighs. "Don't get too attached to him, Peter. The man will disappoint you. Even if he doesn't, he'll be dead before summer begins."

I mentally count eleven months from impregnation, an unnecessary exercise, since Elizabeth's assured me many times she will deliver sometime in June. Then I calculate the remaining time. "Only four more months," I say.

Elizabeth shifts in the hay. "It feels like an eternity. I'm so weary of carrying this extra weight, so fed up with being constantly hungry and tired. I hate it especially when I'm in my human form. I don't know how their women cope with the way their bodies bloat and sag.…"

"I know." I stroke her with my tail. "But it will be ended soon enough, without hopefully much further aggravation," I say. "Which gives us all the more reason to keep the humans content."

Elizabeth laughs. "You're shameless! If you want to let your pet have sex, do it. It doesn't matter to me."

Santos raises his eyebrows when I tell him to forget taking the chess board out after dinner the next night. I grin at his uneasiness. "Something's come up," I say. "I need to take you and Casey downstairs earlier than usual this evening."

The Cuban shows no expression. I've no doubt he's trying to figure out what I have in store for them and how he can resist it. It makes it hard for me to stop smiling. I follow them down the spiral stairs, Casey in the lead, Santos behind her. As usual the woman begins to march into her open cell as soon as we reach it. "No, Casey, not tonight," I say.

She freezes, takes in an audible gulp of air. Santos turns and stares at me. Both of them look so apprehensive I break out laughing. It only changes their expressions to puzzlement. When I regain control of myself, I undo Casey's chains and say, "I thought it might be nice for you two to have some time together, alone, in Jorge's cell…"

A big grin breaks out on Santos's face. "Boss, you son of a bitch! You had me going. I thought something terrible was going to happen." He laughs. "Son of a bitch! You actually listened to me."

Grinning too, I nod.

Casey Morton glares at us both. "You're giving me to him?" she asks, frowning. "First this man almost drowns me, then you take me prisoner. You make me a slave and that bitch of a wife of yours makes me eat all types of shit. Look at me!" She stamps one foot. "Look how fat she's made me! Now you expect me to fuck whoever you want, whenever you want? Fuck you, you pig!" She looks at Jorge. "Fuck you too, you bastard!" The blonde spins on her heels and stomps into her own cell.

Santos chuckles. "That's the first time she's acted like herself since we got here," he whispers. "I appreciate what you're trying to do here. Really, Boss. But I think it will go better if you lock me in her cell. I need some time to talk her down."

I undo his chains before he enters her cell. "You have two hours before I come back," I say, locking the cell door behind him. "After that you'll have to be in your own cell."

"Don't worry, Boss," he whispers to me, beaming. "When I have to, I can work really quick."

The next day Casey smiles as she goes about her work. For the first time since her capture, she speaks openly with Santos as they toil together. She even mutters, "Sorry for my tantrum last night," to me.

"See," I tell Elizabeth. "Isn't her behavior better this way?"

Elizabeth grimaces, humphs. "I don't know. I think I like it better when they're sullen. You're like my sister, Chloe. You always want the humans to like you. No matter how they act, they never will."

I wish later on that my bride could see how grateful Santos is. Elizabeth may be right, but the man certainly beams when he sees me. He grins even more when I say, "From now on, as long as you two continue to do everything as you should, I see no reason why you shouldn't visit each other a few times each week."

"That's good, Boss," he says. "Real good. To show you how much I appreciate it, I want to cook you something special tonight-an old family recipe."

"I don't know, Jorge," I say. "You know I prefer plain meat."

"Sure, Boss, I know that. But you've never tasted my mother's Camé Diablo. Trust me. You'll love it."

Elizabeth wrinkles her nose at the smell of it while Jorge toils at the skillet on the stove. I understand her reaction. The great room reeks from the aromas of cooking spices and seared meat. My eyes tear from the acrid smoke his cooking produces.

"I can't believe you're going to eat his food," my bride mindspeaks. "I'd rather eat dirt."

"I don't want to hurt his feelings, Elizabeth. I'll taste the dish, then take my regular steak."

"What if he's done something to the food?"

I look at her. "Poison? He makes food for us each day.…"

"He takes the chill off our meat. We would know if he altered it. With all those spices he's using, you wouldn't be able to tell if he poured battery acid over the whole concoction. "

"I think you're being overly cautious," I say. "Still, there's an easy way to allay your suspicions."

When Santos brings the skillet to the table, he holds it in front of me first. "Came' Diablo," he announces, and begins to shovel some onto my plate with a fork.

I hold up one hand, stop him and make a show of examining the contents of the pan, the thick reddish-brown sauce still bubbling from the heat-fumes rising as I stir my fork around the simmering strips of beef. "You and Casey first," I say.

He grins. "Sure, Boss. You want to make sure I didn't slip any ground glass into it, huh?" Santos takes the fork, stabs a piece of meat and chews on it as he serves Casey. "Eat," he tells her. "The man wants to see that it won't kills us."

He spears another piece, chews on it. "That enough, Boss? You feel safe now?"

I nod, look away as he serves me and wait for him to sit down before I taste the dish.

"Come on," he says after he sits. "It's only food. Give it a try."

The aroma almost overwhelms me. I harpoon a small piece of meat with my fork and nibble on it. Even in such small quantity, the flavor explodes in my mouth. "Delicious," I say, stab another piece and wolf it down. I consume bite after bite, Jorge smiling as I eat-and I wonder why I've never tried anything but plain meat and fish my entire life.

Santos cautions me. "Take it easy, Boss. It's spicier than you think." But I don't stop until just sauce remains on my plate. Only then do I feel the heat that's building inside my mouth, my throat, my stomach. I grab my glass, drain the water in one sustained gulp then, momentarily speechless, motion for more.

Casey and Santos both guffaw at my antics, even as they run to the kitchen. Elizabeth rolls her eyes. I gasp and wait. Thankfully, the Cuban and the woman soon return, each carrying a large flagon of water. I grab one from Casey, drain it at once. When I grab the other, a look passes between the two of them and I pause before I drink it down. But the heat begins to return and I dismiss my suspicions and gulp down that water too.

"I told you to take it easy," Santos says.

"True." I nod. "You did."

"Next time you'll know how to pace it out."

"If there is a next time," I say.

"Come on, Boss. You liked it. You know it was good."

Now that the heat has subsided, the aftertaste seems to penetrate every tastebud I have. "It was good," I admit.

"And you'd like me to make it for you again. Wouldn't you, Boss?"

I smile and nod.

The winter wind, surprisingly gentle this year, blows in small huffs against the windows. The hearth remains cold, the evening too warm for a fire. Momentarily full, relaxed, I stay in my seat and watch while Casey clears the table and Jorge sets up the chess board. Elizabeth rises, kisses me and goes downstairs to nap.

Later, I know, after the humans are locked in their cells, my hunger will return. Elizabeth and I will take to the sky to hunt and to feast on fresh meat and warm blood. But for now I'm content. Casey turns on the television, settles down near us to watch a game show. Jorge chooses the white pieces, as he does each evening. Opens with his queen's knight to the queen's rook's right.