The First Dragon frowned. He did not like the idea of someone confining the siren he had met. There was too much life in her, too much humor in her eyes, to be shut away from contact with others. Hadn’t she suffered enough?

“They’re pretty rare, though, aren’t they?” May asked her mate. “I’ve never heard of a living siren, and Cyrene keeps me up-to-date with all the latest in elemental-being news.”

“Cyrene?” the First Dragon asked, feeling momentarily out of his depth. It was unpleasant, almost as unpleasant as the feeling in his torso, the strange sensation of needing something. Not to mention his face itched. He rubbed a hand over his chin, and was startled to find whiskers.

“My twin,” May explained. “She’s a naiad.”

“There’s really no other option but to call Dr. Kostich,” Drake said, reluctantly pulling a mobile phone from his pocket.

“Oh, sweetie, that seems so harsh,” Aisling protested. “I liked Vicky ... er ... whatever her name is. Yes, I know her bandmates were trying to break into your lair, but that thing is practically nuclear-attack-proof, and we both know they wouldn’t have gotten in there. It’s not like Vicky ... whoever ... tried to break in, herself.”

“She was the distraction to keep us busy while they attempted to do so,” Drake answered, his eyes flashing a warning.

Aisling evidently wasn’t intimidated. The First Dragon was secretly amused by this.

“Yes, but maybe she had a reason for doing it. Like how May was forced to steal stuff for Magoth,” Aisling answered, gesturing toward May. “You know me—I’m a very good judge of character, and Vicky Whoever struck me as a very nice woman. There’s got to be some reason she did what she did.”

The look of momentary surprise that flickered across all the faces of the dragons present at Aisling’s claim of character assessment did not escape the First Dragon, but no one disputed her. He agreed with her, however. The siren did not strike him as an immoral woman. The issue of her being blackmailed by her bandmates aside, she had come to save him from her friends.

“Maybe if we talked to her more,” May said slowly. “We can find out if she’s crafty.”

The First Dragon lifted an eyebrow a fraction of an inch, just enough to tell May he knew what she was up to.

“Yeees,” Ysolde drawled, giving him a considering look. “She looks like the type of person who might like nature, doesn’t she?”

“Does she?” Aisling asked. “She didn’t particularly strike me—oh! You mean, she’s like ... oh!” Aisling thought for a few seconds. “She’s in a band, so she clearly likes parties. Wow. We did pretty good for just one day on the job, didn’t we?”

“What did you do?” Drake demanded to know.

“It can’t be this easy, can it?” May asked.

“I don’t suppose it can. There has to be a drawback,” Ysolde said, looking slightly disappointed.

The First Dragon felt an urge deep within that he hadn’t felt in a long time—laughter was tickling him. How long had it been since he had laughed?

“What are you talking about?” Gabriel asked his mate.

“They’re talking about a woman for him,” Baltic said, nodding toward the First Dragon. “It’s their wager. They think they’ve found her.”

The urge to laugh grew within him. Trust Baltic to see the humor in the situation.

“The siren?” Drake looked flabbergasted.

“Why not? If she and the First Dragon hit it off, there’s no reason—” Aisling stopped speaking when the door opened and one of Drake’s two redheaded guards entered.

“The prisoner is making a fuss,” he said in a low tone.

“What sort of a fuss?” she asked. “Is she hurt?”

“No, she says she needs to use—” He gestured. “Facilities.”

“She has to go potty? What’s the big deal? Take her to a bathroom.”

“She says she needs more than that.” The man’s face flared as red as his hair. He gestured toward his belly. “She says she needs ... things. And a shower.”

“Things?” Aisling said, then enlightenment evidently dawning. “Oh, she needs ... gotcha. Well, you can bring her upstairs to one of the guest baths. She can take a shower there, and I’ll give her whatever she needs.”

Aisling started for the door, but Drake’s “No! Not here!” stopped her in her tracks.

“Why not? I know you’re all angry at her, and I’m not saying I don’t feel a bit used, but it’s against the woman code to turn down a woman in need of ... things ... and I’m certainly not going to make her sit there and be crampy and oozing and probably craving chocolate and potato chips, just to make a point.”

The First Dragon filed away the question regarding chocolate and potato chips to ask the siren at a later date. He assumed she was having her woman’s time, but did not see why Drake was forbidding the woman some comfort. He frowned at the green wyvern, letting him know he did not approve.

Drake looked taken aback at this gesture, but recovered quickly when Aisling, having said her piece, continued to the door. “You cannot bring her upstairs, kincsem. She is a danger, not just to us, but to the children.”

“Oh, come on, now,” May said, looking skeptical. “I’ll admit that the whole gang is pretty unsavory, but I don’t see them hurting children.”

“You do not know the power of sirens,” Gabriel told her. “I agree with Drake. The woman should not be allowed anywhere near people she can influence.”

“We could gag her, I suppose,” Drake said slowly.

“Like hell you will,” Ysolde said, standing. The three mates were now standing together, facing the wyverns, their eyes bearing varying degrees of anger. The First Dragon enjoyed the scene immensely, and wondered if it would be appropriate to applaud the mates. “I agree with May and Aisling—Vicky, for lack of a better name, may be a victim in all this. Have you asked her? No, I thought not.”

“Mate, you do not know—” Baltic started to say, but Ysolde rounded on him.

“Oh, I know. You, all three of you big strong dragons, you’re all scared of one little woman, one you haven’t even talked to, to find out just what she’s doing here.”