How to Drive a Dragon Crazy (Dragon Kin #6)(64)

“You poor thing! Are you all right?”

“Izzy!” Éibhear snapped. “We have much bigger concerns than your gods-damn devil dog!”

“Iseabail?” another voice asked and Éibhear saw one of the riders standing at what was left of the corner of the building. It was a voice Éibhear didn’t recognize.

The rider pulled the hood of his cloak back, long, dark silver hair spilling out, and . . . an eye patch. The dragon wore an eye patch.

Izzy looked up from that slobbering beast who didn’t seem to be hurt at all after being on fire and crushed under all that debris, and her smile was so wide and bright that Éibhear just assumed it was because she was happy her dog was safe. But then she released the dog and charged over to the one-eyed dragon, launching herself into his arms.

“Gaius!” she crowed. And that’s when Éibhear knew that this was Gaius Lucius Domitus—the Rebel King of the Quintilian Provinces. An Iron dragon descended from the enemies of the Southland dragons and the bastard who liked to send books with strange notes to Izzy. A dragon Iseabail the Dangerous was currently hugging.

Bugger.

“What are you doing here?” Izzy asked as she stepped back. It had been years since Izzy saw Gaius last, but that had never mattered. Their friendship had been forged in the blood-filled ending of the Quintilian Overlord Thracius. Since that time, Gaius had worked to take full rule over the Quintilian Provinces, but Thracius’s daughter and a son or two still lived and still caused problems. Great problems. And there were many who felt any of Thracius’s offspring were the rightful heirs to the throne. If that meant getting rid of Gaius, they’d be more than happy to make that happen.

Which told Izzy that whatever was going on was important because Gaius didn’t usually leave the Provinces for any length of time. He could rarely afford to.

“I was hoping to get an audience with Queen Annwyl and Queen Rhiannon, if possible, and I knew Lord Bram could help us with that. We sent word to his assistant, Robert, yesterday. He met us in town last night and we discussed our concerns with him first. He led us back here today to stay until Bram’s return, but when he saw the gate closed—which he was sure he’d left open—we had him wait down the road while we checked everything out.” He smiled. “I must admit, I’m glad it was just you. It’s not like I have one of my legions at the ready.”

Izzy gave a short shake of her head. “I don’t understand, Gaius. Why didn’t you send an emissary rather than coming yourself?”

“Oh . . . we did. But we sent him directly to Garbhán Isle and apparently Annwyl felt he was lying about who he was and, uh . . .”

Izzy held up her hand, not needing to hear anymore. “You weren’t close to your emissary, were you?”

“No. Varro”—the King’s human general and friend—“was wise enough to send a messenger no one really liked. So when that head came back to us . . . we chalked it up to a lesson learned.”

Izzy cringed and nodded. “Understood.” She patted his shoulder. “Actually, this works out well. Uncle Bram is with Annwyl and Rhiannon now. I can escort you to Garbhán Isle myself.”

“I’d really appreciate it. Losing my eye was one thing, losing my whole head . . . that would be more problematic.”

Laughing, Izzy gave Gaius another quick hug. “Let me get my things together and then we can head out.”

“That sounds fine but, uh . . .” His words drifted off and his gaze focused behind her.

“Someone you know?” Gaius asked.

Izzy looked over her shoulder and she saw that Éibhear had shifted to human and now stood behind her. Naked.

Yes. Very subtle.

“This is . . . my uncle”—and the glower she got for that was priceless—“Queen Rhiannon’s youngest son.”

“Oh, yes,” Gaius said, his entire body becoming tense under that cape. “Éibhear the Contemptible.”

“Éibhear, this is Gaius Lucius Domitus, the Rebel King.”

Éibhear grunted. He grunted. Even Fearghus, a known grunter, didn’t grunt at fellow royalty.

Gaius’s one eye narrowed. “I’m going back to my sister,” he said, his expression wary as he watched Éibhear closely. “We’ll meet you out front, Izzy.”

“Aye.”

She waited until he cleared the corner before facing Éibhear and demanding, “Is that how you were taught to greet a fellow royal? Even my father is better at it than you. And my gods, that is saying something.”

“I’m your uncle?”

Oh. So that’s what was bothering him. Izzy could have done a lot of things at this moment to assuage Éibhear’s annoyance. A lot of things.

She didn’t do any of them.

Instead she said, “Well . . . you are my uncle.” She brushed a bit of nonexistent dirt off his bare shoulder. “And I was your ward until years later when you finally had your vile, dirty uncle way with me.”

“Izzy.”

“I guess I should just be grateful punishments weren’t necessary. Dirty, dirty punishments involving chains, whips, and a nurse maid.”

“Izzy.”

She tapped his cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Don’t worry, Uncle Éibhear. I won’t tell. Last night will just be our dirty little secret.”