She quickly explained to him what the Riders had discovered, finishing up with the events of the night before. Marcus swallowed hard, clenching his hands into tight fists when he thought about how close Beka had been to a man who could murder someone in cold blood. Since Marcus had come back from Afghanistan, he’d felt like a killer masquerading as a civilized person. But he suddenly realized that compared to some, he was very civilized indeed.
Although that could easily change, if he ever came face-to-face with Kesh.
“So what is this plan of yours?” he asked when she was done. “And what does it have to do with Chewie and my boat?”
Beka patted her not-a-dog on the head. “Do you know anything about Newfoundlands?” she asked.
“Only the stuff you told me that first day,” Marcus said. “About how they’re specially bred to work in the water, and that they can swim really well. I thought that was pretty cool.”
“Damn straight,” Chewie said, preening a little.
“You are the coolest dragon-dog in town,” Beka said with a fond smile. But she got serious again when she looked back at Marcus. “There’s a reason he picked this shape for his doggy guise,” she said. “He’s not just any dragon; he’s a water dragon. Water is as much his element as it is mine. More, in fact, since the pressure below doesn’t bother him at all, and he can dive much deeper than I ever could.”
She took a deep breath as she told him the rest of it. “If you’re willing to take us back out there, Chewie is going to dive down to the bottom of the Monterey Trench, and see if he can find whatever Kesh has hidden down there. Then he’s going to bring it back up so I can figure out how to restore the water and the people to health, and prove to the Queen once and for all that I have what it takes to be a Baba Yaga. And it has to happen before the full moon, so I’m running out of time.”
Marcus could see her desperation and her fear. He also saw her determination to see this through, no matter what it took. He thanked his lucky stars that she’d worked up the courage to come ask for his help, because he sure as hell wasn’t letting her do this without him.
Not only did he want to kick Kesh’s ass for chasing away the fish and driving a lot of good men like his father to the brink of losing everything, not to mention messing up their nets and whatever mischief he and his pals had been up to—although god knew, that was reason enough to go after the guy.
But he also wanted to sit on the slimy creep until he admitted to whatever he’d done to Beka and promised to fix it. Because no matter what she said, she really wasn’t okay. And Marcus had the sneaking suspicion that Kesh had something to do with it.
“You bet I’ll take you out there,” he said with an only slightly bloodthirsty grin. “Any chance we’ll meet up with your pal Kesh when we’re there? Because I’ve got a couple of things to say to him the next time we meet.”
Ooh-rah.
TWENTY-THREE
THE FRESH AIR and the feel of the spray on her face revived Beka enough that she actually enjoyed the trip out to the dive site. Although the fact that Marcus seemed to have gotten over being mad at her might have helped too. Just a little.
Once they’d arrived, Marcus looked at Chewie dubiously. “What now?” he asked.
“Now you stand back,” Chewie said.
Marcus shifted about a foot and Chewie snorted, a small hint of flame briefly curling through the salty air.
“Seriously, dude. Way back.”
Beka grabbed Marcus’s arm, only momentarily distracted by the feel of his muscles under her hand. “Brace yourself,” she said, grinning at him. She loved this part.
Marcus looked puzzled, then alarmed, then just plain stunned as Chewie began to shimmer and glow, the massive black Newfoundland replaced by a truly enormous dragon with a long, sinuous neck, tightly overlapping metallic-looking scales, and a tail that wrapped halfway around the front cabin. As a dog, he’d been impressive. As a dragon, he was magnificent; a vibrant royal blue starting at his wedge-shaped head and then shading down through aqua and into a deep green, all glimmering with a deep iridescence like the inside of a shell.
Beka beamed at the dragon proudly. “Kind of cool, isn’t he?”
Marcus gazed from her to Chewie, his eyes wide and round, his jaw hanging. After a moment, he snapped it shut, shook his head, and said, “Kind of cool, Beka? Kind of cool? He’s fucking glorious.”
Chewie preened, as much as a dragon could be said to do so, and Beka hid a grin behind one hand. “Oh great,” she said. “Now there will be no living with him at all.”