by Aaron Crash
Twenty minutes later, he pulled up to the house in the lower-middle-class neighborhood where he’d grown up. A quaint yellow-brick ranch style, it had an attached one-car garage and a front lawn that had seen better days. The street was wide, quiet, and shaded by tall trees, which lined the walkways on both sides. Like his mom’s place, the other houses were mostly ranches—older, but well cared for. For the most part, at least. They both got out of the car. On such a wet, cloudy spring day, no one ventured out and the streets were empty.
A little mist rained from the sky with a snowflake or two thrown in to make things interesting.
Steven shivered at the chill, missing the warmth of the fires and the pools. Tessa nodded toward the house. “You go in first. I’ll be backup.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Steven walked up to his house, used his key, and opened the door. “Hey, Mom. You okay?” he called out, scanning the living room. The living room had been the same for twenty years: a couch and an easy chair, with afghans covering them just like doilies covered the neo-colonial end tables. The coffee table was also doily central, with a SCENIC COLORADO book of photography on it. Everything was in place, just like it should be. No sign of a struggle.
The delicious whiff of his mom’s cooking filled the house—waffles, breakfast sausage, eggs. Florence Whipp came out of the kitchen a moment later with batter on her nose. She was a thick middle-aged woman with wild hair, crow’s feet poking out from the corner of her eyes, and a face that liked to smile. Her hands were bright red with thick knuckles. They were the hands of a woman who had worked her entire life to make sure her son always had food and shelter, if not other opportunities.
“Steven!” She hurried over and hugged him. “I’m so sorry I missed your birthday. And I can’t find that necklace. He said it would be important, and I kept it around, but now I can’t find it. I feel so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid, Mom.” He hugged her tighter. Persephone might’ve been a great woman/dragon, but she hadn’t been there every second of his life.
Steven broke the embrace and went to the door. “All clear, Tessa. We’re fine.” He turned. “Mom, what happened? How come you never picked up the phone?”
“I got tired of those scam people calling me. All the time with them. I tried to turn off the phone, but I couldn’t figure it out, and if I left the receiver off the hook, it would make that awful sound. So I put all my phones in the basement. Then I forgot about them.”
He chuckled. Such a mom thing to do. “What about your manager at work? I left a bunch of messages with her.”
“She never told me.” Mrs. Whipp frowned, forehead creasing. “That woman has it in for me, I swear!”
Tessa approached the door. For a second, Steven wasn’t sure his mom would approve of her with her partially shaved head, tattoos, and piercings. But Tess was all class. “Hi, Mrs. Whipp. I’m Tessa. I’m Steven’s friend.”
“Girlfriend!” Mrs. Whipp shouted. “A girl, Steven! A real girl. You found a girl. Kathy Roberson thought you were gay, but I didn’t.” She shook her head. “I know. Though if you were, that would be just fine. I just didn’t want you to be alone in this cold, cruel world.”
His mom bustled over and hugged Tessa with every ounce of her strength.
Steven about died of embarrassment.
Tessa, though, took it all good-naturedly. “I’m a real girl. And Steven isn’t gay. I can assure you.”
His mom blinked, then laughed and motioned them into the kitchen. “Come on in, and we can eat and catch up. I’ll keep looking for the pendant. It was important. And I owe you a birthday. I made waffles, your favorite, with the bacon grease in the batter. I know it’s too late to even call it brunch, but I also know you like breakfast food.”
“Sounds awesome,” Steven said and meant it. He was famished. Positively ravenous.
They all sat down at the round kitchen table. The tablecloth was as lacy as the doilies. The kitchen was big, green, and so 1970s. It hadn’t been updated in the half-century since it had been built. The electric stove was the original and only half the burners worked. Steven, though, only had eyes for the spread laid out before him: syrup, waffles, sausage, bacon, and eggs, with grapefruit halves in the good bowls.
They talked while they ate.
“Mom,” Steven said as he dug into his fifth waffle. “Tell me about Stefan and Persephone Drokharis. I know most of the story already, and I’m fine with it.”
His mom frowned and cried a little, but laughed more. She was armed with her instant decaf coffee doctored up with non-dairy creamer and lots of artificial sugar. “You’re just glad Joe Whipp wasn’t your real father, amiright?”
Steven paused eating and then had to laugh. “Uh, kind of. But you’ll always be my real mother.”
“If you want me to excuse myself, I can,” Tessa said. “If you want to talk in private, I’ll understand.”
“Please, stay,” Mrs. Whipp insisted. “I can tell by how you two are, that you’re close and bound to get closer. It’s what happens with people your age.”
Tessa nodded happily and stayed, but she remained quiet. A lot of history was about to come out.
“Joe was a scoundrel,” Mrs. Whipp said. “He was exciting and adventurous, and I was just me. Being with him was part amusement park funhouse and part funeral ... oh the sadness he could bring. But mostly he left me alone, which at times, was a kindness. I liked my independence.” She paused, staring into her mug. “He didn’t want you to know the truth. Not until you turned twenty. He said that you’d be safer if you didn’t know you were adopted.”
“Smart,” Steven said. “Did you ever meet Stefan Drokharis?”
His mom didn’t answer the question. She stirred her coffee, lost in the past. “You came to us, and you were a little baby, a cute little baby, brought home in a storm. It was cold that spring, so cold and snowy. I swore I’d love you like my own. Joe came and went, but it was always you and me against the world. To tell you the truth, I forgot you weren’t mine. It was a poker game that started it all, though. That’s how we ended up with you. Or, at least, how he ended up meeting Stefan.”
“A poker game?” Steven asked, confused.
Mrs. Whipp nodded. “At the new Wells Fargo skyscraper in downtown Denver. Did you know that the building has its own zip code? 80274. I remember when they were building it. I didn’t like how it looked at first, but now it really adds something to the skyline. I drive by it every day. It makes me think of Joe. It’s supposed to be a cash register, up top, but I don’t know that it looks like one.”
Steven and Tessa exchanged glances. This felt important, though Steven didn’t know how it all fit together. “A poker game at the Wells Fargo building?”
“Yes, you know, your father—well, adopted father—he liked to gamble. No, not like, it was his thing. He had a gambling addiction, but in the end, it brought you to me.” Mrs. Whipp sipped her coffee and stopped talking, an empty look filling her face.
“Tell me about the poker game,” Steven prodded gently.
“Joe said they were big rollers there, real dragons, he said. But Joe got strange. He said some of the people he met weren’t human, but other things. I blamed it on his drinking. But he said that’s where he met Stefan Drokharis the first time. But, he also said the whole thing was run by Ronald Reagan, which should tell you what his state of mind was. A president, gambling? With my Joe? No.” She laughed a little and shook her head ruefully.
“Are you sure it was Ronald Reagan and not Rhaegen Mulk?” Tessa asked.
“I suppose that does sound a bit familiar,” Mrs. Whipp admitted with a shrug. “But it was so long ago, it’s hard to remember. In any case, Joe said they were all rich, and they didn’t mind losing. They thought he was cute. I know women were there. That bothered me, some. But the only pretty faces that could truly capture Joe’s attention were queens on cards. His ladies, he called them, when we played gin rummy.”
“And you’re saying those poker
games were held at the Wells Fargo building?” Steven asked.
“That’s right. At the top, in a secret suite, or so Joe said.” Mrs. Whipp got up and went to the drawers in the kitchen. “But really, that pendant, Joe said it would tell you everything, but how can a pendant talk? I don’t know. It’s all very strange.”
“Sit down, Mom,” Steven said. “I have the pendant. And yeah, it told me everything.” He wasn’t sure if he should tell his mother about the secret world of Dragonsouls, not right then.
Tessa put it together in a whisper. “Another Aerie. Maybe Rhaegen Mulk’s Aerie, in the Wells Fargo building. If that’s the case, I bet that’s where Aria is.”
Mrs. Whipp sat down at the table again. Steven’s phone twittered in his pocket. He took it out and saw that it was Aria calling.
He launched to his feet, spilling his mom’s coffee. “Hold on, Mom,” he said, thrusting a wait a minute finger into the air. “I have to take this.”
He went out the back door and stood on the back porch. Thick snowflakes tumbled out of the sky now. Some of the flakes caught on the overgrown weeds and tangles of bushes in his backyard. He kicked himself for not taking better care of his mother’s lawn. Well, once he sold a Rembrandt or two, he’d hire a service to take care of everything before he found a better place for her to live.
He pressed the answer button. “Hello?”
“Steven! Run!” Aria’s voice was as desperate as it was afraid. Then static and rustling filled the speaker.
A new voice took over, deep and despicable. “Where you at, boy? You and I have one more dance before my Prime comes back for his wedding. I’m gonna give Mulk your head as a weddin’ present.”
“Edgar, if you hurt Aria, I’m going to eat your heart while you watch,” Steven growled.
“Now that’s a big threat. You don’t even know where I am.”
Steven grinned. But he did. “How about you and I meet at my old apartment? You know where that is? I want to kick your ass in the same place where Aria fried your ass.”
“Sun sets at five. How about you and me dance there at six? You and me, whelp. Just the two of us. I’m gonna love watching you die.”
Click. The phone went dead.
Steven walked back inside the house. “Mom, Tessa and I have to go. But things are going to change. I came into some money, and it’s a long story, but now is not the time.”
Tessa took her dishes to the sink while Mrs. Whipp went to him. “Steven, what’s going on? You seem so different, older. What’s changed?”
“Everything, Mom. Everything. I’ll tell you all about it, I promise, but not now.”
“Are you okay, Steven?” she asked, concern filling her words as she searched his face.
“Never better. But we need to go.” He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, then shrugged free of her arms.
After they all said their goodbyes, Steven was back in the Bronco with Tessa beside him.
Steven was quiet until he got on the I-25 on-ramp. “Okay, Edgar thinks I’m going to meet him at my old apartment to fight at six. We wait until he leaves the Wells Fargo building, and then we go into Mulk’s Aerie and rescue Aria.”
“What if your mom has the details wrong?” Tessa asked.
“She doesn’t,” Steven said, “not this time.”
A plan formed in his head. He turned to Tessa. “I wasn’t the only one crushing on you at the coffee shop. Bud had a thing for you as well, didn’t he?”
The barista grimaced. “Yeah, I guess. But what does that douchebag have to do with any of this?”
Steven grinned. “Call him.”
He told her his plan.
Chapter Twenty-Five
IT NEVER REALLY GOT serious about snowing, but it did get colder as twilight took over the sky. Tessa paid to park the Bronco at a downtown lot, and it was wicked expensive. Steven missed Aria’s magic American Express. But soon, soon he would be a millionaire, once they started selling off pieces from the Drokharis Hoard.
He and Tessa walked through the deserted downtown. Sunday evening, nothing was going on, and there were few cars and even fewer people. They posted up across the street from the Wells Fargo building, with a clear view of the front entryway.
A handful of uneventful minutes passed by before Bud showed up, walking down the sidewalk with a wide shit-eating grin on his face. It was the grin of a man who expected to get laid. He was dressed in jeans and a sleek North Face ski jacket, his hands shoved into his pockets. He had a scarf wrapped around his neck and a trendy stocking cap. His breath came out in clouds. He walked right into the Wells Fargo Building, just as Tessa had instructed him.
The phone in Tessa’s pocket buzzed, and she picked it up after a few rings. Bud’s voice came over the phone, indistinct. “Thanks so much for coming downtown for me,” she said after a second. “The party is on the top floor—penthouse level. There’s a security guard, right? Just tell them you’re there to see Rhaegen Mulk.”
More chatter from Bud. Tessa frowned. “Yeah, I know, Bud. I’ve always thought you were hot too.”
A pause as Bud replied.
Tessa shook her head, her frown deepening. “If there’s any problem, come back to the lobby. I’ll have to walk you in. Sometimes the security at these parties are total assholes. See you soon.” She hung up and turned on Steven. “You know, this wouldn’t have worked at the Antlers in Colorado Springs.”
“Yeah,” Steven agreed, “but that wasn’t an active Aerie. I’m betting he goes up there, everyone flips out, and he comes right back down.”
Tessa’s concern was evident on her face. “You’re betting his life on that. What if they just kill him?”
“I don’t think they will,” Steven said. “Dragonsouls have to hide themselves, and civilian murders must be a big deal. Sure, it’s possible that Rhaegen Mulk might have the entire DPD in his pocket, but that still won’t stop the media reporting on some rando kid disappearing downtown.”
Tessa reached into her purse, where the grimoire and topaz pen were stuffed, and came out with her cigarettes. “Just a half of one,” she said. “This plan is all kinds of fucked. I know he’s a bully, and I know he’s kind of an asshat, but he’s still a person.”
“Him? I don’t think so. He’s a lower creature. Like all you humans,” Steven said. He meant it as a joke.
Not only did Tessa not laugh, she glared at him.
He backtracked right away. “Totally kidding. But Tessa, we needed someone to help us, and we needed someone clueless. Once he gets kicked out of the building, then we can snag him and get info on what we’re facing. You and I can’t run recon. They’re searching for us.”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she clicked open her lighter, lit a cigarette, and exhaled. “This is a side of you I haven’t seen.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
She flicked the ashes from her cigarette. “Actually, there are a couple of sides, and they’re dark. I have to say, they’re darker than I would’ve thought.”
Steven nodded. “I can be brutal when I need something. Like working eight jobs and not sleeping. And I can go scorched-earth when it comes to strategy. Maybe if Stefan Drokharis had more of that, he wouldn’t have been killed. I don’t know.”
“I can respect all that,” Tessa said. “But what gets me is your grudge against Bud. You stood up to him. You slapped him. It’s over. If you use your new powers to go back to your old life to get revenge, this is never going to work.”
He let her words sink in. Part of him did like the idea of sticking it to everyone who had ever wronged him. He had the power and he had the money. Todd Butch would pay for pantsing him in the seventh grade. Yes, Steven’s revenge would be swift and brutal. But then he went back to what he felt for both Tessa and Aria. And his rage at what Rhaegen Mulk did to his parents and their vassals.
“You’re right,” he said finally. “I have a new life. My number one priority is keeping you and Aria safe. No refrigerator for either
of you. And my second priority? To take down Rhaegen Mulk. He murdered my parents and he would’ve killed me, as a baby. We both know that.”
“And if you kill Mulk, I’m assuming you’ll get his Primacy. Which is kind of the whole point of Dragonsouls, right?”
“I don’t know.” The thought did seem appealing to him, in some strange way. If he was at the top of the pile, there would be less danger of anyone hurting his Escort. That word came so easily to him now.
Tessa went quiet, her face troubled.
Steven tried to make her feel better. “Look, when I realized that we needed intel on Mulk’s Aerie, I had no other plan. Bud seemed like the perfect guy for the job.”
Speaking of which, Tessa’s phone buzzed.
Bud immediately started screaming at her. Steven couldn’t hear every word, but he did hear “bitch” and not just once.
Tessa took it in stride. “Okay, okay, okay, calm down. I’ll come and grab you out of the lobby. Better yet, come outside—I’ll explain everything in a minute.”
When she hung up, she rubbed her cigarette out on the building and then put it in a pocket on the purse. “Yeah, maybe I was wrong. Bud is total asshole. But he’s alive. So that’s something.”
They made their way across the street and pressed their backs up against the side of the building, just out of view of the entryway. A few minutes later, Bud came storming out of the building, and damn did he look worse for the wear: one eye puffy, face red, hair mussed, bottom lip split.
“Over here, Bud,” Tessa called out, waving at him with one hand.
Immediately, his eyes locked on Steven. “Oh, I get it. Hey, Steven, still trying to get back at me? This hurts, Tessa. This hurts a lot.”
Tessa sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. You wouldn’t have come if I didn’t play it like I did, and we needed your help, Bud. Seriously we did. And this is life or death we’re talking. You saw the guns, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, like machine guns,” Bud huffed, crossing his arms.
