by TJ Nichols
Mythos didn’t traffic anyone—not people or other mythos. They never had. That was a human concept, because humans were all fucked up about sex. Maybe getting them all high on Bliss would be good for them. Edra closed his eyes and groaned as thoughts of Jordan Kells drifted too close to the surface.
Someone coughed, and when he opened his eyes, Carly was peering over the cubicle divider. She fixed him with her yellow wolf eyes. Her nose twitched, and her ears pressed forward. “You okay?”
“Fine,” he lied.
Her tongue lolled out of her muzzle for a moment in a smile. “Tummy ache from too much pig head?”
Only a small one, but he wouldn’t admit to that. His human stomach was a little smaller than his dragon one, and it made for some awkward moments. “It’s worth it.”
She laughed, a sound that was more like a bark. “Always is… was.”
Edra nodded carefully. He could still shift, but werewolves couldn’t. They were furred and tailed and walked like an upright dog. They couldn’t run like they once had, but they were strong and ferocious in a fight—some things hadn’t changed. There’d been hope that werewolf babies born after the collapse would be able to shift, but they were born in the same condition as their parents.
“Next time bring one to share.” She sat down and disappeared from view.
“I’m not made of gold.”
“Green. You mean green,” she said.
“Paper money. Pfft.” He wiped his ass on paper, and there was very little difference between the two. Gold—now that was reliable… and pretty. And like all dragons, he liked pretty and shiny. “Let’s do a whip around, and I’ll order some heads for Friday lunch.”
“You’d better eat as a human.”
“Yeah… you’re no fun.” But he was smiling. He typed up the email on his computer, asking who wanted in for barbecued pig head.
His phone rang before he hit Send. “Tendric.”
“Edra? It’s Helena, Leonaris’s wife. He gave me your number in case there was ever trouble.”
Edra raked his fingers through his hair. What other trouble could there be? “How can I help?”
Until he became the police liaison officer, his job was to help mythos integrate, keep them in school, and make sure they understood human laws. He tried to keep them out of trouble and helped to settle disputes in their favor. Now he was supposed to help the people who wanted to lock them up, but if he worked with Kells, there was a chance he could intervene sooner and misdirect the cops. Even though he knew it was a smart move, it still rankled.
“It’s Darian. He’s headed up to the mountains to see the dragons.”
“Why is that a bad thing?” The dragons liked visitors, and they were smart creatures, but they were unlikely to be afforded humanlike status because they couldn’t pass the talk test—only dragons could speak dragon, and they understood very little of any other language. The humans couldn’t even agree that werewolves and vampires were people. Some humans thought werewolves should be treated like dogs, even though most mythos had more humanity than actual humans.
“Umm… well, I overheard him talking with his friends the other night, and you know how the humans shat on our temple?”
“Oh, shit.” He knew exactly where this was going, and it was nowhere good.
“Exactly. I don’t mean to insinuate anything untoward about you, but dragon poo is… strong.”
“Vile I think is more accurate.” He wasn’t about to overshare, but he wasn’t that close to being a greater dragon. “When did he leave?”
“This morning.”
“Why didn’t you call me then?” Darian could be up there already.
“Well, I didn’t want to bother you, but I went to Leonaris, and he said I should.”
“It’s not a bother. It’s my job to keep you safe.” And it was easier if he had the information.
“You’ll stop him? It’s not too late?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He was already standing as he hung up, and he let a snarl escape. It wasn’t a roar, but it still reverberated around the shared office space, and several people looked over and stared at him. A burp bubbled up, and he couldn’t hold it back. They were still staring. Carly sniggered and avoided eye contact. “Sorry. Pig’s head for lunch, and it doesn’t quite fit in my human stomach.”
Almost the truth. He should’ve stayed in his dragon form a little longer to digest, but he had to keep office hours. Now he needed to speak with Ardel and then fly out to stop Darian before he landed himself neck deep in dragon shit.
AS MUCH as Edra loved flying, racing out to the dragons’ lair to stop Darian from making things worse for the satyrs wasn’t his idea of fun. The sun was already sinking, and he hadn’t seen a red truck with a load of manure in the back heading away from the mountains. He should’ve been able to smell it, but instead of filling him full of relief, that only heightened his sense of urgency.
By the time he reached the rocky outcrop that marked the edge of the dragons’ territory, he was a little breathless. Edra chirped his arrival as he sucked in lungfuls of air, and his back heaved as he tried not to lose what was left of lunch. He was a sprinter, not a long-distance flier, and he was out of practice.
He still had to fly back, though he’d rather walk… or hitchhike. But he hadn’t brought any clothes, and he was sure that he’d be arrested for being naked in public. Humans were so uptight about nudity. Everyone had a body. He shook his head in disgust.
The female dragon responded with a chirp of her own. She was on her way to meet him.
He rested on his front claws, which were usually his index fingers, and his stomach refused to settle. Throwing up would not impress the dragon.
The air around him vibrated, and the pickled-onion smell of dragon assaulted his nostrils. He clamped his teeth together, knowing he would smell offensively sweet to the greater dragons.
The great green dragon landed several yards away, turned twice like a cat, and then settled onto her haunches. She was bigger than him—bus-sized. Female dragons were always bigger, and sometimes males got their tails bitten off if they got too aggressive.
Edra lowered his head in greeting. He could shift to human, but he’d rather not be naked and delicate in her presence. At least with claws and a hide, he would be more chewy if she decided that it was rude of him to ask for information.
She chirped and cooed, accusing him of not visiting enough.
He apologized and swore to do better, the whirrs and clicks of dragon falling from his tongue as though he spoke it every day. If there’d been another lesser dragon in the city, he would have had the opportunity to speak it every day. To be polite, he asked after her mate and inquired if conditions were right for brooding.
Polite conversation always came first with dragons.
In turn she asked if he’d found a new mate.
No. He was well past the age to find a mate. Maybe he’d never find another one. She keened her sadness at that, and he joined in. Mostly he tried not to think about it. He’d had a mate before the collapse, but he refused to let bitterness take hold. The collapse had taken from everyone.
“You visit for a reason?”
Edra nodded, a habit of his humanoid form. “A young satyr”—which translated in dragon to dick and horns, a fairly true description—“came to collect dung.”
“He was polite and brought food, so I let him.” Her ears flicked and her eyes narrowed. “Is this a problem?”
“He intends to use it to cause trouble.” Ogres often used dragon shit for their gardens, so he didn’t want to stop her from giving it away or trading it for a side of beef.
“He came before the night.” Her claws needled the ground, tearing out chunks of earth. “He can do what he wants with it. It is his now.”
Darian’s mother hadn’t overheard very well. He had been here yesterday. If Darian dumped the load tonight, the church would be unusable for a week, maybe longer. Even when it was removed, the smell would linger, and Edra
had no idea which church Darian planned to stink up.
It was turning into an absolute griffin feast.
There would be body parts flying if he didn’t sort it out. He needed to find Darian and stop him. He’d hoped to stop him from getting the shit in the first place, but Darian hadn’t been answering his phone when Edra left Mytho Servo, and Edra had no phone on him and nowhere to hold it when he was flying.
He really didn’t like asking for favors from a dragon, but he needed help and it was her shit.
She wouldn’t care about inconveniencing humans. But she would care about making things worse for mythos. “If dick and horns uses your dung, we will all be in trouble.”
It would give the anti-integration mob the fuel they needed.
She eyed him as though considering if he’d be a good meal. He’d be too chewy. And dragons thought it bad manners to eat their own kind, even lesser dragons. But if he pissed her off, she could kill him… accidentally.
“Would you do me the honor of helping to find him?”
“What would I have to do?”
“Find your dung.” Her nose was far more sensitive than his, even in this form.
“And I can fly over the city?”
“Yes, though no hunting.” Dragons were not permitted to fly over the city after a few unfortunate incidents in the early days after the collapse. According to humans, the park was not a good place to hunt dogs. No place was a good place to hunt dogs. So Mytho Servo had negotiated a deal with the pound where dogs that were going to be put down were released in the hills. The dragons didn’t hunt that many, so the dogs got used to sharing the hills with the dragons. He hadn’t hunted with the dragons for a while, and he’d been very good about not helping himself to strays.
“Hmmm,” she rumbled as she considered the offer.
Edra huffed out a breath. His ribs and lungs were no longer burning, but he wasn’t looking forward to the return flight. “It would be a favor.”
Her eyes brightened. “I would be delighted, Knight. We will hunt the next release day to seal the agreement.”
“Well, I need your help tonight.” Dragons weren’t very good at keeping track of days, but they could remember things for centuries. For clarity he added, “now.”
She hissed. Rushing a dragon was rude, and he knew better. But he didn’t have the time, and he didn’t want to clean dragon shit from a church. He had no doubt Ardel would make him do it.
“Fine.” Her tail thumped on the ground a little too close to where he was standing.
It wasn’t fine.
Edra tried to sweeten the deal further. “I will make sure dick and horns brings you a whole cow for causing this trouble.”
“Two, so my mate can have one.” She licked her lips as though already tasting the cow. Her mate would be impressed with her negotiating skills.
“Two,” Edra agreed. He didn’t care if Darian was flat broke—he would supply the beef. Keeping mythos out of trouble might be his job, but this was going beyond. When he got his hands on Darian….
“Go now?” She pushed her face close to his, close enough that he would go cross-eyed if he tried to focus on her forehead scales.
“Yes.” His wings were already aching at the thought.
“Small dragon, small wings.” She gave a sniff. “You may ride.”
He couldn’t say no to that offer, no matter how uncomfortable it would be to sit nestled on her foot, but he never could have kept up with her if he relied on his own wings.
She launched into the air, her skin like ink in the dusk. He followed and quickly settled on her hind leg. He wrapped his long index claw around her dewclaw and held on. He’d done it once as a human, and that was truly something to avoid repeating. At least this time he had his own wings if he fell off the dragon express.
She flew higher than he did and caught drafts like an eagle. He was more of a sparrow, and she knew it. She could’ve been a bitch and made him fly, but she couldn’t abide the threat of all mythos suffering. They were still her people, and San Francisco was now her village to protect, even the humans.
His stomach bottomed out as she swooped, dove over the freeway, and followed it to the city. Her gleeful rumble was all he could hear over the sound of the wind.
He drew the cold around him, and his silvery hide glowed as he became invisible. The second-to-last thing he wanted was for some human to film him hitching a ride on a dragon.
She turned off the freeway and followed a side road. They weren’t heading toward Leonaris’s house, where Darian still lived—young satyrs lived with their parents until they had a partner. She lowered her leg as though to shake him off, and he took the hint. He snapped his wings out and followed her as fast as he could up a long driveway that seemed to belong to a farm.
Judging by the scent, it was an ogre farm. Ogre farms had a legitimate reason to have dragon shit, and the pungent odor wafted around them. They had certainly found dragon dung, though they were probably in the wrong place. He wasn’t looking forward to asking her to try again.
The dragon settled on the driveway, the only piece of land big enough for her unless she squashed crops, and she wasn’t that inconsiderate.
Edra came to a stop out of range of her tail. “Are you sure?”
She glanced at him, and he was glad she couldn’t kill him with a look. “In the red box with wheels is the dung he took.”
The front door of the house opened, and a satyr stepped onto the porch—the satyr who’d fucked him rather well not that long ago. “Whoa.” The satyr stood still. “Umm….”
Edra realized he was still invisible, which was a blessing. He wasn’t ready to face the satyr, but in his dragon form his nose was too sensitive to the reek of dragon shit. It seemed to be stuck in his nasal cavity, so he tried to breathe through his mouth, but he was sure he could taste it, thick and fetid.
“I thought you were leaving, Dar.” An ogre joined him on the steps and then stopped and stared at the dragon in the driveway. He lowered his voice. “Oh. How do we move it?”
“It’s a she, and we don’t,” Dar, short for Darian, said.
Edra tried not to think about how awkward this was going to be. He really needed to start asking for names when he went to the den.
“I thought you paid for the poo.” The ogre scowled. They bought their dragon dung and had all the approvals for its use, but this was something else. How Darian had roped the ogre in, Edra wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“I did,” Darian said carefully to the ogre. He faced the dragon. “Why are you here?”
The dragon tilted her head. She didn’t speak English, but could understand a few words. Important ones like dog and cow and hunt and shit.
She didn’t look at Edra, but she spoke. “Can I fly over the city now? I have brought you to dick and horns and my dung.”
“Soon,” Edra said softly.
But Darian’s ears flicked forward. “Who else is there?”
There was no putting it off. Edra shifted to his human form and became visible, knowing that he was instantly recognizable among the mythos.
Darian grinned. “I don’t do private visits, but if you’re desperate enough to involve a dragon….”
“I’m here officially. I know you want revenge for your father’s arrest and the desecration of your temple, but this is not the way to do it.”
“What do you know? You’re working with them now,” Darian spat.
“I’m trying to get them to realize that we’re people. If you do this, it will only make it worse for Leonaris and for all of us.”
“That’s because they lock us up for the slightest infraction. They kill us and claim it was self-defense. How many werewolves are in prison because someone got scared? How many vampires get shot just for walking around at night?”
“This isn’t about the werewolves or the vampires.” This time. “It’s about you, and you’re about to desecrate one of their churches.”
“The same as they did to o
urs.”
“The cops are looking for the people who did it.” He’d make sure Kells was doing more than saying the right words. Maybe he should’ve let Vlash compel him, but he knew that was only a short-term solution to a much larger problem.
“Are they? Really? You’re supposed to be on our side.”
“Which is why I’m here.”
“Fuck you.”
Edra looked at him. “You already did. But it might be best not to repeat it after this.”
“I wouldn’t want to put my dick anywhere near you.” His voice was more venomous than a mermaid spur.
Dammit. He’d been thinking about going back over the weekend to make sure there were no humans… and then maybe to enjoy himself. But he couldn’t, not while the satyrs were under such scrutiny. He didn’t want the cops claiming he had a conflict of interest—humans loved that term.
“I’ll let the word get around that you stopped me from doing this, and no one will, not even a merman.”
While no one could ever say they wanted to lie with a merman, the rest of the threat was chilling. He’d have to leave the city to get laid again. What was the likelihood that Darian could pull that together? “I know you’re upset, but please let me deal with this.”
Darian shook his head. “You can take your dragon and piss off. Let me deal with satyr business.” He stomped toward the red truck, which was loaded up with dragon shit.
Edra tried to appeal to Darian’s sense of family duty. “And then the cops will arrest you, and who will run the den? What will your mother do?”
Darian hesitated, keys jingling in his hand.
Edra glanced at the ogre. “You don’t want to be involved. If you do this, you’ll lose your rights to dragon dung. That will affect your farm.” And delight the humans as, once again, they’d have the best crops. They had lobbied that they should get dragon dung too, but they’d failed. It was a limited commodity and a mytho tradition.
“You said no one would know, and I wouldn’t get in trouble.” The ogre glared at Darian.
Edra had found a chink, and he worked it. “They’ll check security footage near the church and have you under arrest within a day.”
