“So, what you’re saying is there’s no good reason not to talk about it.” She had always thought not talking about your income was stupid too. That only benefited the more powerful.
“We will not break down millennia of social norms right now in the gym, for fuck’s sake,” Heartsbane snapped. “Look, just listen, okay? You already sound like an ignorant little bitch to us, but maybe if you actually listen you won’t embarrass yourself with everyone who works here. I’m called a charmer because my aura is especially strong. I can make humans feel things and forget things easier than most dragons. Still, if we’re in a powers contest, that counts for hardly better than commons.”
“I thought you said it was hard for commons to make Dragon SWAT.”
“Damn it, that’s enough,” Heartsbane said. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Most dragons learn all this in the creche—hell, most dragons don’t have to learn this shit at all. It’s simply how we’re brought up. I don’t want to talk about it at work to some upshot special who thinks she’s hot shit because she can turn to steel.”
“Why do you get to call me special if I can’t call Emerald common? And besides, I don’t think I’m hot shit—”
“Bullshit you don’t! If you didn’t think you were hot shit you wouldn’t have name-dropped Shadowstorm and how you beat him. You wouldn’t have marched up here like you own the damn place.” The woman’s aura literally pounded against Kristen now. She could feel her anger, her rage…and her pain? There was more to Melissa Heartsbane than only fury, then.
Arin spoke quickly. “She has a point, you know. I know you have a different background and everything, but we all know who you are. We’ve all briefed ourselves on your past and your history on Detroit SWAT. Plus, I was there to clean up the mess you and Shadowstorm left behind if you don’t remember. Did you do any reading on us? Maybe ask Atramento about the library or your new partners? You coming up here is totally unprofessional. And poor Atramento. You know he’ll have to take the heat for all this, right?”
That gave Kristen pause. She hadn’t meant to get him in trouble but that might have explained his discomfort. He hadn’t wanted to be caught between two dragons. If he agreed with one, he had to disagree with the other. It wouldn’t be an easy position to be in.
“I can cover for him—”
“You don’t know how to cover shit,” Emerald said and dropped a weight on the mats. “You don’t even know who your boss is yet.”
“Yeah, I know, because I was dumped in the—what did you call it?—the paper dungeon.”
“That’s why you were dumped in there. That’s the whole damn point of it. It’s to give you the opportunity to get your bearings before you make a fool of yourself.” Heartsbane was yelling now, any restraint she might have had long gone.
“Been there, done that,” Emerald said. Kristen had a feeling he wasn’t talking about himself.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
The door to the gym flew open and Stonequest strode in. He looked distinctly out of place. Everyone but Kristen was dressed in sweat-stained workout gear while he wore a tan suit with a white-and-blue striped tie. She realized once again that in her blouse and skirt, she was also quite out of place.
Stonequest smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, there’s something I never thought I’d hear. The Steel Dragon apologized.”
“Stonequest, I was looking for you—” she began but he cut her off.
“Heartsbane, we can feel your damn aura all the way in the conference room. There were two car crashes out front because of that shit. They need to forget about it. Timeflash, I want both cars fixed. And Emerald, stop dropping weights, man. That shit shakes the damn floor. If you break any more of them it’ll come out of your damn pay.”
“Man, whatever,” Emerald said, but Kristen noticed that he picked his weights up and racked them carefully.
“Hall. Let’s take a walk.”
She grimaced and nodded. Suddenly, she wasn’t in such a hurry to talk to Stonequest.
Chapter Three
“I thought you were doing orientation with Atramento,” Stonequest said as soon as they’d left the gym.
“You mean killing time in the paper dungeon?” Kristen snapped. She immediately regretted the outburst, but there it was.
He stopped walking and turned to look at her. “First off, you need to get your aura under control. Heartsbane already has hers under wraps and if people realize that shit’s coming from you, don’t expect to make any friends.”
“I’m not here to make friends.”
“Yeah, obviously. I thought you were here to work a job, not chase after me like you need me to hold your hand.” The words stung even though he had said them kindly.
“I’m sorry,” she said, not sure what else to say so.
“Look, it’s my fault. After everything I’ve seen from you, what else could I have expected?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re not very good at going by the book. You didn’t ask for human or dragon backup with Shadowstorm, so I guess spending your first month learning the bureaucracy wouldn’t ever work.”
“The first month?” Kristen was aghast.
Stonequest chuckled. “That’s nothing. You know Emerald worked under Atramento for—”
“Three years. Yeah, I heard.”
“Well, look at that. I guess you are making friends.”
“I only know that because Emerald practically spat it in my face.”
“That’s good for him. He doesn’t talk to people he doesn’t like.”
That calmed her somewhat. At least he’d been comfortable enough to be rude to her. That reminded her a little of Hernandez on Detroit SWAT, which sent a pang of homesickness through her chest. “Look, I appreciate the opportunity and all that, but this isn’t really what I signed up for. My team on SWAT respected me. I had a future there.”
“You have a future here. Don’t look at this as a demotion. It’s not like you’ve been bumped from human SWAT down to dragon go-fer. You’ve been bumped up from human police to entry-level on dragon police. That’s an improvement, not to mention the first time in history that it’s ever happened.”
“It doesn’t feel like an improvement.”
“Kristen, I can’t simply promote you to officer right away. Think about the optics. Some dragons wait years for their promotions. In other industries, it can be decades. Look at it as an opportunity to prove yourself to the dragon community before you’re promoted.”
“And is that all that’s going on?” she asked. He flinched when she lost control of her aura for a moment and she knew that he felt her anger. “There are obviously dragons who don’t like having the Steel Dragon on the team. How do I know I’m not merely being put somewhere to rot and stay out of everyone’s hair?”
“Because I recommended you for this job, and I promise that’s not my intent.”
“Well, your team seems to feel differently.”
“Was your human team any different? Did you all always agree on everything?”
Kristen snorted but didn’t reply. Stonequest had met her team—hell, he’d played airsoft with them—so he knew they all had different minds. “If you always shared the same opinions, you’d all be weaker of mind for it.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But I’m merely wondering if maybe it’s better if I go back to human SWAT. You guys obviously have it under wraps here. It might be better if I work from a different perspective.”
Stonequest paled. “Hey, you’ve been here for what, like an hour? Don’t quit yet.”
“I’m not quitting anything. I’m dedicated to being a cop but I’m not sure about this assignment.”
“Kristen, I understand you’re uncomfortable, I really do, but you have to understand there’s never been a case like yours before. Dragons don’t get lost. They don’t get discovered. Even a few centuries ago when the world was less connected,
we didn’t simply lose eggs and find that they’d hatched and become full-grown women decades later.”
“You make me sound like a science experiment.” She hated sounding so whiny but she couldn’t unsay it. Thinking of it that way actually made her like Heartsbane, Arin, and Emerald more. At least they hadn’t kept her at arm’s length. They’d told her exactly how they felt about her.
“Look, I hate to be this way, but can’t you see it from some of the dragons’ perspective? We’re all very curious about your origin and want to learn more about you. Even if you quit Dragon SWAT, the world of dragons—even the Dragon Council themselves—will continue to be interested in your life.”
“So, you’re saying I can quit,” Kristen said, knowing she’d make her brother proud with the snark she now laid on Stonequest.
He shrugged placatingly but the half-hearted gesture looked as awkward as hell. “Well, yeah. Your unique origin makes you a special case, but dragons are essentially allowed to do what they want in human society, as long as they don’t challenge dragons outside of the established rituals or break any human laws in really flagrant ways.”
“Like trying to blow up a city?” she countered.
“Even Shadowstorm used intermediaries to protect himself, and once we knew it was him, we stopped him.”
“You mean I stopped him.”
Stonequest grinned. “Yes, exactly. Which is why I don’t want you to leave our force before you’ve even started.”
“But I could.”
“Yes, technically, you could go back to work with the human SWAT again if you really wanted to. Dragons have worked in human industry for centuries. Some are CEOs of major companies or philanthropists and such, so there’s precedent. It would be a jurisdictional nightmare, though.”
“For you. It would be a nightmare for you.”
“You continuing to serve on human SWAT would create scenarios the likes of which dragon and human culture have never dealt with. I don’t think I could legally stop you from going back. That’s something dragons don’t really do to each other, but I might be forced to stop you through the Dragon Council the moment you tried to challenge another dragon.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Human forces don’t have the right to police dragons. But with you alongside them, especially with you, uh…taking their opinions into account, they could technically police us. It creates scenarios like the one with you and Shadowstorm, where humans were allowed to impose their will on dragons.”
“Maybe that wouldn’t be an especially bad thing,” Kristen replied.
That proved to be too much for Stonequest. He laughed it off. “There are few dragons who believe in human rights more than I do. You’re more, um…progressive, obviously, and Arin is also, and that’s about it. But I think even you agree that dragons not taking a direct hand in human affairs is for the best.”
“Oh, so they can simply direct us from the shadows instead?”
“For starters, you’re one of us, not one of them. And yes, that’s how dragons see it. If humans ever grew powerful enough to control dragons, we would have to assert ourselves. Humans vastly outnumber us and are creative in ways we’re not.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Napalm? Assault weapons? Nukes? Dragons didn’t come up with any of that. If humans started policing dragons, we’d have no choice but to rebel.”
“You act like you’re the oppressed instead of the oppressors.”
Stonequest shook his head, frustrated. “I don’t want to oppress anyone. You’re right, some dragons see people that way, but that’s why I want you on the team. I think you could be the bridge between human and dragon societies, but that’ll never happen if you’re on human SWAT working with humans to eliminate dragons.”
“It’s not like Shadowstorm was innocent.”
“Of course he wasn’t, and many dragons obviously agree with you, given that you’re now working in this building. But if he hadn’t hired Death to kill you, this would be a different story. What I mean is that if you hadn’t snapped his neck and one of your friends had finished him off instead, there might have been repercussions.”
“I don’t accept that humans can’t defend themselves against dragons.”
“I’m not asking you to, not permanently anyway.” Kristen had never seen such a wheedling smile on his or any other dragon’s face. “But, Kristen, if you want to change things, do so from the inside.”
She sighed. While she didn’t exactly agree with his arguments, she could see the wisdom of them. He read her acquiescence in her aura.
“Good. I’m glad you can see things my way,” he continued. “Stay the course for a little while. Jump through a few hoops, prove that you’re as good as I already know you are, and I’m confident you’ll advance rapidly.”
“Okay. Okay, fine. I’ve had to prove myself to people who questioned my skills more than once before. I can do it again.”
“Good girl.”
It took all her self-restraint not to sock him in the face. She wasn’t particularly proud of controlling herself either.
Chapter Four
Kristen was ready to work in the paper dungeon and try to glean more information from Atramento while she…made coffee? It sounded miserable but she could do it for a few days. However, by the time Stonequest guided her out of the elevator, another dragon was waiting for them.
He was a mote of stillness in the chaotic mess of busy interns and paperwork that was the paper dungeon. Behind him, mages bustled across the space, filled out paperwork, talked to each other in hushed voices, and darted about like dragonflies, while the dragon stood implacably. He wore a green uniform that looked like it belonged on the battlefield in World War One. His skin was pale and pockmarked, his hair close-cropped, and his eyes hard and cold.
“Kristen, this is Sergeant Ridgespine.” Stonequest gestured at the dragon before them. “He’s your boss.”
She didn’t think his dragon form could have worn the name better. His spine did indeed look as straight and hard as a piece of rebar.
“And you’re Kristen Hall,” he stated in almost a growl. He did not seem pleased to meet her. Not even vaguely.
“Yes, sir.”
“I haven’t had someone abandon their post in a hundred and twenty-six years. And then it was because we faced the first machine gun any dragon had ever seen in battle. It turned out he didn’t actually abandon his post, as he ended up strafing the gun and ending that fight. What was so damn important that you thought you needed to abandon yours?” Ridgespine said the last part of his little speech like it was a question, but she had a feeling he didn’t actually want her to answer. She was right.
“Because unless we’re under attack by a rebellious band of humans or dragons who don’t respect the Council, I expect you to stay at your post. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir. You make yourself very clear, Sergeant Ridgespine, sir.” She swallowed and tried to keep her instinctive response bottled in, but that proved to be about as much ass-kissing as she could handle. “I’m merely curious as to how many of the other dragons condemned to serve in this paper dungeon of yours have defeated a special with not one but two unique abilities?”
“No other dragon would be so arrogant as to work outside of established channels!” Ridgespine had begun to turn bright red and the color matched the heat that emanated from his aura. She guessed that no one had spoken back to him in decades—centuries if his story was any clue.
“I was hired because I worked outside of established channels. I’ll work in here for now, but you need to understand that the moment something threatens my city, I will move to protect it and abandon this pathetic little post if you can even call it that.”
At that moment, Atramento appeared. The tattooed fingers of each hand tapped against each other in a flurry of movement and the placating smile on his face vanished the moment he saw Kristen and Ridgespine posturing opposite one another. Th
e mage vanished so quickly, she thought he might have used magic to turn invisible.
“Do you know what you need, you arrogant little dragonling?” the sergeant began and puffed himself up as he spoke. “You need—”
“A different assignment, perhaps,” Stonequest interjected and deflated Ridgespine before he could start his tirade.
“Detective?” He looked at Stonequest in obvious surprise but he deferred, at least momentarily. That was interesting. Kristen couldn’t tell who ranked higher, but it seemed that Ridgespine at least listened to him although Stonequest didn’t exactly boss the sergeant around either. His tone had been polite rather than authoritative.
“I’ve worked with Lady Steel and I know she can be brash, especially when she doesn’t understand the importance of her work. She’s always one to find a higher priority,” Stonequest said. Kristen wanted it to be a compliment but she wasn’t quite sure that it was.
“That’s not how things are done around here.” Ridgespine’s words were filled with menace.
“Everything about the Steel Dragon is not how things are done around here,” the other man responded.
The sergeant nodded at that but said nothing.
Stonequest continued. “Given her experience as a field officer—”
That proved to be too much for Ridgespine. “A human field officer,” he sputtered.
“Still, given her familiarity with working a beat, I think she might better serve you on a simple assignment outside the office. Call it an extended field trip for the new intern. Plus, if she’s out there, learning from a senior officer and working to protect dragons and keep human culture stable, she won’t abandon her post—right, Kristen?”
She nodded and looked at Ridgespine.
He didn’t lose his scowl, but the intensity of his expression flickered. “There may be something to that, I suppose. Personally, I think you’ve already spent far too much time with people. You already behave…human.” She had never heard the word used as such a scathing insult before.
The Steel Dragon (Steel Dragons Series Book 2) Page 3
