Destiny Kills

by Keri Arthur

  More ripples ran across the pool, then suddenly my mother appeared, her head breaking the water just enough to let her ruined eye and nose emerge.

  Though I wasn’t near the pool, I began to move my fingers, caressing the energy building in the air, calling to the dark water and feeling the eagerness of it slide across my skin—a kiss filled with such fury that the hairs along my arms stood on end.

  “Your time here with us has ended, Marsten. Give it up, and walk away, while you still can.”

  Amusement flitted briefly across his craggy features. “Aila, we’ve seen the worst you can do, and it doesn’t scare us. Get out of the water, or I will shoot. Remember, you’re just as useful to me dead as alive, so don’t for a moment think that I won’t.”

  I didn’t. And I knew my mother wouldn’t have cared either way. But I would not let her die in this place—not through a bullet, and not through her own will.

  I stepped forward, into his sight.

  The gun in Marsten’s hand didn’t waver. “I was wondering when you’d move, Destiny.”

  I continued to move my fingers as I edged forward, trying to get closer to the water. Trying to raise a barrier between my mother and that gun.

  “You gain nothing by shooting either of us, Marsten,” I said, as the energy I was collecting began to pull at my hair and my hands, and tiny sparks seemed to dance across the dark, rippling waters. “You have no real idea about what my mother and I can do. And you won’t ever know just what we’re capable of if we’re dead.”

  “What I know,” he said, “is that you’ve killed a number of good scientists, and have proved difficult animals to keep.”

  “We’re not animals,” I said, glad my voice showed none of the rage and fear that was boiling through me. “We’re still more valuable alive than dead.”

  “Actually, you’ve proved the exact opposite time and time again. And you’ve destroyed the viability of this facility.”

  “And just how have we managed that?” I continued to move forward, creeping toward the pool’s edge inch by tortuous inch, all the while wishing I could simply run to my mom. Yet that was a chance I couldn’t take. Any sudden movement might cause him to fire that gun. “We may have blown up a lab and burned out a bit of equipment here and there, but that’s about all we’ve managed to do.”

  “What you’ve managed to do is destroy the secrecy of this operation. Half of Drumnadrochit probably saw air dragons flying over Loch Ness, and the scientific world will guess we have discovered something and want a piece of it. We needed more time to uncover the secrets hidden in your genes, and that is what you have robbed us of.”

  And you’ve robbed us of life, of humanity, and each other, I wanted to snap back, but what was the point? We might hold human shape, but Marsten was never going to see anything more than an interesting puzzle to unravel.

  “You haven’t even begun to touch on our secrets, Marsten, and trust me, you need us alive to even begin to understand us.”

  “I think I’m the only one who’s qualified to be the judge of that,” he said, and pulled the trigger.

  “No!” I screamed, and unleashed the waiting energy. The dark water flew up, swirling around my mother, swiftly becoming a thick whirlpool through which nothing would get through. Not even a bullet.

  The bullet hit the wall of water and ricocheted away. Marsten swore, then swung the gun and pulled the trigger again. This time straight at me.

  I had no time to call the water and protect myself. The most I could do was throw myself sideways. But I wasn’t superman. I wasn’t even an air dragon. I didn’t have wings and certainly couldn’t fly. I wouldn’t beat that bullet, and I knew that, but that didn’t stop me from trying.

  The air seemed to scream. Or maybe it was me screaming. I don’t know. The safety of the dark water was close, so close, but the bullet was faster than my fall. Metal tore through my thigh, blood, skin, and muscle flying into the air as the bullet punched its way through my leg. I hit the water and went tumbling, crashing into the far edge of the pool, landing half in, and half out of the water.

  The air whooshed from my lungs and all I could feel was pain—thick, gut-churning pain—and all I wanted to do was slide into the beckoning darkness of unconsciousness. But it wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot, and I fought to remain awake and aware as a slick red puddle began to form around my leg and drip slowly into the pool.

  Water splashed, and then my mother was beside me. “Oh God, oh God,” she said, her frail hands on my face, my neck. Feeling for the wound she could smell but not see.

  Behind us both, footsteps approached. My heart accelerated, pumping fear through every inch of me. Pumping my life out onto the cold concrete.

  But with the footsteps came another sound. The air was screaming again. But not from a bullet. Not this time.

  Trae was coming.

  Relief flooded through me. I didn’t care how he knew I needed help. All that mattered was that he was coming, that he was near. All I had to do was keep us both alive until then.

  “Mom, get back into the protection of the whirlpool,” I whispered urgently.

  “What? Don’t be—”

  “Mom, shut up and just get into the damn water.”

  My voice was little more than a hiss of air. I touched her face lightly, trying to convince her of my urgency, but my gaze went past her and focused again on Marsten. There was no compassion in his dark eyes, no doubt. We were nothing more than a couple of test subjects he had no intention of losing. A shiver went through me. There was no talking sense to someone like that. No way to make him see us as anything more than monsters who had no rights, no voice in this human-filled world.

  “Mom,” I added, “trust me, please. I didn’t come all this way to get us both killed.”

  She sobbed, but spun and dove into the water. I played my fingers through the water, calling to the energy of the loch, calling to the deep, dark waters that waited beyond this small pool.

  “Well, well, well,” Marsten said, as he stopped at my feet. “That water spout of yours was a very neat trick. It would appear that the littlest sea dragon has been holding out on us.”

  “I told you we were more useful alive than dead.” My gaze went past Marsten to the roof high above. Hurry. Please hurry, I thought, even though I had no idea whether he could actually hear me.

  “If you were less troublesome, I’d probably agree with you. But with all the samples we’ve collected over the years, we’ve decided to grow our own little sea dragons.”

  “Our control of water is learned rather than ingrained. Growing your own won’t give you your answers.”

  “That’s a risk we’re prepared to take,” he said, and pointed the gun at my face.

  “No,” my mother screamed, even as the roof was torn apart and a silver and gold dragon dropped like a stone toward us. His scaled hide gleamed like polished jewels in the bright light, his talons thick and deadly looking as claws widened then snapped shut, reminding me of the jaws of a crocodile grabbing for food. Never in my life have I seen a more beautiful sight.

  Marsten spun and raised the gun. But he was too late. Trae’s swoop had brought him close enough to lash out with one wickedly clawed foot. As he snatched the scientist up, the gun went off, skimming his jeweled hide, leaving a slash of blood. Blood that was joined by a thick spurt as one of Trae’s claws slashed deep into Marsten’s middle, gutting him.

  Trae trumpeted—a harsh, ugly sound—then his wings pumped, blasting me with air and dust as he rose skyward through the roof.

  “The loch,” I screamed after him, hoping he could hear me. Hoping he’d listen. “She waits.”

  He disappeared. I slumped back, feeling an odd weariness slithering through me, making my limbs seem heavy and yet my head light.

  I licked my lips and tried to concentrate. It wasn’t finished yet. There were still others to be taken care of if we dragons were to have any freedom. I shifted position, and allowed my wounded leg to fall
into the water. Loch water wasn’t seawater, and it didn’t have the same sort of healing power, but the freezing water would slow the bleeding, and the ancient energy caught within the loch would begin to heal the wound. Just not as fast as the sea.

  “Mom,” I said, flicking my fingers through the water, letting the whirlpool of power go. “We need to call the loch and finish this.”

  “I can’t,” she sobbed, splashing to a halt by my side and groping quickly for my hand. “God, I should kill you for taking such a stupid risk.”

  “I’m okay, Mom, really.” I hesitated, then said, “I need to erase their fingerprints on this place. I need to call the loch.”

  “Do what you wish. This place has no soul left for me now. It is your inheritance. Yours to do with what you wish.”

  What I wished was for every bit of the scientists to be erased from this place. I wanted no memory of them left in the rooms or the cold stone walls. No trace of them remaining anywhere on the grounds.

  Mom’s fingers wrapped around mine in the pool, and a tremor seemed to slice the dark waters. A tremor that was all excitement, all need. The loch wanted this as much as I did. With my mom’s grip somehow giving me strength, I took a deep, shuddery breath, then called.

  Energy touched the air, raced across the water, across my senses. It was a rich, warm sensation, one of welcoming and of healing, and it flooded through my body, through muscles and bone and spirit, energizing and renewing. Giving me the strength I needed to fight on. To survive.

  My mother sucked in a deep breath, and suddenly seemed more alive. Color warmed her pale features and her frail body suddenly seemed to have strength. She might not be able to call the magic anymore, but she was still a sea dragon, and she could still feel it.

  “Come to me,” I said softly. “By the Gods of sea and air and lake, I command thee to come to me.”

  The concrete underneath us shuddered, as if the very ground was trying to answer my call.

  “Come to me,” I repeated, “and cleanse this place of the evil that has taken it. Let no room or person go unnoticed.”

  As I spoke, thunder rumbled. It was a long, dark sound that went on and on, as if the very skies vibrated with fury.

  “Take it all,” I whispered. “Cleanse it all. I want nothing of them left in this place. Nothing at all.”

  There was a thick, long roar, a thunderous sound that seemed to surround us, a sound that was a combination of air and water and the very earth itself. The walls around us shook, as if in fear of its fury.

  Mom smiled and squeezed my hand. “She comes. She answered.”

  I had no time to reply, because the fierce dark waters rushed into our cell and swept us away to the safety of the loch.

  Chapter Fifteen

  That’s where my mother died.

  In the arms of the loch, surrounded by its power, filled with its welcome and joy. I held her gently, keeping her body close to the shore, fighting the gentle but insistent tug of the water.

  Dawn was coming—the music of it was growing—but the time was not yet right to release her to the water’s embrace.

  The loch had been quiet for a good hour now, the fury of water and air and earth that I’d unleashed fading quickly once the last traces of those who had invaded our ancestral lands had been washed away. Several bodies had drifted past my sheltered position, guided on by the gentle currents down toward the castle. In the last hour, boats had come out to collect them, while others searched for survivors. No boats came near me. The loch saw to that.

  Awareness tingled across my skin, and the warmth that always came with Trae’s presence flooded my senses.

  “There’s cops and emergency services crawling all over your mom’s place,” he said, sitting down beside me. His clothes were bloody and mud-splattered, and he smelled of smoke and fire. “And the rumors have already started about what was really going on up there.”

  “Well, there’s no hiding the pens, no matter how much damage the water did.” I pressed my body against his, needing the contact, needing the strength and warmth of his touch. “How are the kids?”

  He smiled. “Little Carli’s going to be a heartbreaker when she’s older. And Jace is far too wise for his years.”

  “Yeah, I noticed.” I watched the water swirl past a nearby outcrop of rock, then asked, “So are they happy to be free? Anxious to get home?”

  “The boys are. I don’t really think Carli remembers all that much about her family. I left them eating pizza, drinking Coke, and watching TV.”

  “And with strict orders not to answer the phone or open the door, I hope.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that. Jace has them well under control.”

  “He’s a good kid.”

  “Yeah.” He slipped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. “How’s your leg?”

  The wildness was back in his bright eyes, fiercer than before. Only this time, it didn’t seem like a wildness that couldn’t be tamed. This time, it was the wildness of a man who had been fighting for what was his.

  My heart did this happy little dance, but the rest of me was simply too tired to join in.

  “The leg is sore, but survivable.” The cold of the water had taken the vast majority of pain from it, and the magic that still spun around us had begun the healing process. But it would be a few days yet before I could put any real weight on it.

  Dawn began flanking the dark edges of the sky, sending small flags of pink and yellow breaking across the blackness. The energy in the air was growing, tingling across my senses, dancing across the water.

  The loch tugged more fiercely at my mother’s legs, wanting an ending. Wanting a new beginning.

  Tears stung my eyes. I blinked them away and watched the sky, listening to the growing music of dawn, waiting for the moment when the energy peaked. Trae was a silent, watchful presence by my side, warming me in ways I couldn’t even begin to describe.

  As the slivers of color truly began to flood the darkness, and the warmth of the coming day broke the chill of night, the dance of energy sharpened, burning across my skin, sparkling across the top of the water.

  It was time.

  I took a breath and briefly closed my eyes, seeking the strength to do this, to let her go when all I really wanted to do was grab and hold her and beg her not to leave me, too. But of course, it was all too late for that. She was gone in body if not yet spirit, and to bind her to this earth now would be nothing short of selfishness. Especially given everything she’d already suffered.

  Trae squeezed my shoulder, as if sensing my reluctance. I gave him a quick smile, took another deep breath, then said softly, “The Gods of loch and sea, I call on thee.”

  The water began to swirl around my feet, around my mother’s body, tugging at us both. Wanting us both, but for different reasons.

  “And the Gods of air and land, I call on thee.”

  Mist formed across the surrounding hills, spreading vaporous fingers down their flanks, reaching quickly toward the water. The air felt suddenly cooler, thicker, the energy of dawn stronger. Every breath was filled with the power of it, until it felt like my whole body was vibrating to its music. Tiny sparks danced across my skin, leapt off into the water, and skipped across the waves.

  “Guide your daughter on her final journey,” I said, still holding on to my mother, not letting her go just yet. “Help her find the peace and happiness in the forever lands that she could not find here.”

  The fingers of mist drew close, creeping past my legs, wrapping around my mother’s body. Her body began to glow with a cold blue light, and the vapor around her began to twirl and dance, the movement almost joyous. Then the blue light broke free, streaming upward, into the mist and beyond, reaching for the forever plains and my dad.

  With her spirit free, the mist and the light retreated. As the magic of dawn began to fade, the dark water tugged even more fiercely on my mother’s body.

  “Take her to where our ancestors lie,�
� I whispered, as I released her. “Hide her well.”

  There was a splash of water, and she was gone. I closed my eyes, battling the ache, fiercely fighting the grief that welled up my throat. There was time enough for that later. Right now, there was me, and there was Trae, and the magic that still danced across the dark water. Still danced through me.

  “God, I’m sorry—” he said softly.

  “Don’t,” I cut in. “It’s what she wanted.”

  “But you’ve lost—”

  “Don’t,” I repeated, then rose unsteadily, balancing precariously on one leg. “We need to go farther into the water.”

  He raised his eyebrows, but rose. “It’s freezing in that lake.”

  “What if I promise to keep you warm?”

  A smile played across his lush lips. “Tempting, but let’s face it, the cold will still play havoc with the better parts of me.”

  “The loch won’t affect you like that. Trust me,” I said softly.

  He studied me for a moment, blue eyes serious despite the smile teasing his lips. “Why is this so important?”

  “Because it’s a tradition in sea dragon families.” I hesitated, knowing the importance of what I was asking, and hoping like hell I hadn’t misread everything I’d been feeling and seeing in him. “When one sea dragon dies, we celebrate his or her life by creating another.”

  “Ah.” He touched my cheek lightly, then ran his fingers down to my lips. My body quivered under his touch, desire spreading like wildfire. “I see.”

  “Do you?” I asked, my gaze searching his intently. “This will create life between us, and that child will bind us more than any words ever could. Is the thief ready for that sort of responsibility? Ready for me to be a permanent part of your life?”

  “The thief was a goner the minute the woman with wild-looking hair decided to play chicken in the middle of an Oregon highway.”

  He smiled, and there in his eyes was all the emotion I could ever want. Love, desire, need. It was right there, a fierceness shining in the brightness of his eyes. And the ache in my heart eased a little, because while I might have lost my parents, I’d gained something else. A lover, a companion, a friend. A man who would be with me, stand by me, no matter what happened, for the rest of my life.