“He’s…he’s dead, sir.”
It was a testimony to Stonequest’s professionalism that he did nothing but blink a few times and take a long, deep breath before saying simply, “Shit.”
“Orders sir?” Emerald said.
“Shit,” Stonequest said more emphatically and paced for a moment. “Heartsbane, check Windfire. I’ll be right there. Emerald, the orders stand. Look for tracks in the snow. Maybe we can count how many toes this dragon has and get some clues on its composition.”
“You won’t find them, sir. She used the same magic she did before to clear her tracks. Also, she’s not a dragon.”
He gave Kristen a patronizing smile. “You said Windfire is dead. Let’s be realistic—"
“She’s telling the truth,” Jasper said and held up a crystal sphere. “No dragons were here. You can’t fool one of these.”
Stonequest looked at him, disbelief obvious on his face. “Timeflash, security footage?”
“It’s not here, sir. Everything starting about an hour before was cleared. The whole damn place was wiped clean. They didn’t even do us the favor of only cleaning the cameras that caught them. We might’ve been able to at least plot their course and find some clues that way, but they were thorough.”
“Where were you two?” Stonequest asked, his tone not quite accusatory but not kind either.
“Asleep, sir,” Jasper said with heavy resignation. “We ordered coffee from one of Windfire’s servants. It knocked us both out—and gave me weird damn dreams too.”
“But how?” Timeflash said. “We don’t have the same chemistry as humans. They’d have to use something enhanced with magic to affect dragons.”
“Nobody touch those coffee cups,” Stonequest said and gestured at Kristen’s half-drunk one and Jasper’s empty cup. “We’ll…we’ll get to the bottom of this. But first, I need to see the victim. Lady Steel, are you ready?”
Kristen nodded. She had known this moment would come.
As they walked, he talked, although she couldn’t really tell if he was talking to himself or to her. “It’s hard to believe that a human would try something like this, you know?”
“Yes, sir, but I think—”
“And to be successful. We haven’t heard of such a thing since…well, since you did it. But you’re not even human. Before that, it had been centuries. I simply don’t see how a person could pull it off. Are you sure…” Stonequest’s words died when they reached the grand hall.
Heartsbane was there, her anger gone and replaced by tears. Kristen could tell that indeed the other dragon’s aura was stronger than most because when she entered the room, she too felt a wave of sorrow wash over her.
Windfire’s corpse lay in the center of the room. His golden scales no longer caught the light now that they weren’t moving. Instead of oranges, reds, and golds, they were a flat yellow like the wrapper of a cheap piece of chocolate. His mustache, once animated by an invisible wind, lay limply. His wings were crumpled and broken as if they’d collapsed on themselves once the life and magic left his body. Worst of all, though, was the wound. The bullets had shattered his scales and left a bloody maw where once had been the gleaming golden armor of a truly ancient dragon.
“Talk to me, Heartsbane, what happened here?”
Kristen respected Stonequest’s professionalism in that moment. She wanted to puke. He wanted an incident report. That was what it took to be a cop, human or dragon.
“I… It looks like there was a fight. I think the attacker led him by the nose for part of it. There’s some damage that shows they fought behind those pillars, which is not a good place for a dragon to stick its nose. If she was a dragon, she never used her dragon body. It’s all kind of strange. Also, it looks like the woman was strong. I think she was thrown across the room and broke the floor.”
“That was me,” Kristen said.
“Windfire hit you?” Heartsbane—thankfully—didn’t sound accusatory.
She nodded. “The woman who did this knew how to fight a dragon.”
“You saw her kill him?”
“Yes, ma’am. She did it with a handgun and three shots to the chest. He didn’t stand a chance.”
The other dragon snorted. “A handgun? If you had a fight with Windfire, you’d better come up with a more believable alibi than a handgun. Every damn dragon there is knows a handgun can’t do this kind of damage.”
Kristen couldn’t tell if she actually thought that she had been the one to hurt Windfire.
“Heartsbane, go help Timeflash with the security footage,” Stonequest ordered and his tone brooked no argument.
“Sir?”
“Now, Heartsbane.”
“Yes, sir.”
She left and her aura confirmed her anger at the order.
“I thought I told you not to talk about that,” Stonequest said once the two of them were left alone in the room with Windfire’s corpse.
Kristen couldn’t help but gesture at the body, even though it seemed a macabre way to make a point. “I only brought it up because that’s how she killed him. Look at the wounds, Stonequest. What else could rip a hole in a dragon’s chest like that?”
“A dragon,” he said, his voice like ice.
She clenched her jaw and tried to clamp down on her aura. How dare he accuse her of such a thing!
In the next moment, he held his hands up in a gesture of apology. “Look, I know you didn’t, or if you did, we’re all screwed because you’re manipulating your aura at a level beyond anything we’ve ever seen. I can tell you’re being honest and that you’re scared.”
Kristen was not amused. “And what do you think is more likely? That I’m a member of a secret sleeper-cell, living amongst humans and hiding my abilities, or that possibly the same woman who wounded Death also killed Windfire? Shit, Stonequest, she probably used the same gun.”
“Are you sure it was the same woman?” he asked.
“Yes! I mean…well, no, not quite but I think so. The bullets used had virtually the same effect, although these seem more powerful. I’m fairly sure this attacker is the same woman.”
“But you didn’t actually see her at the scene of Death’s murder?” Stonequest demanded.
“No. She had already left by the time I found where Death had set up her sniper nest. I was dealing with Death and I didn’t have much attention for other things like noticing assassins escaping the scene of their crime.”
“There’s been progress on Death’s murder,” he said and caught her off guard.
“Oh yeah?” She knew it sounded weird even as she said it. Was he hiding the truth? Why change the subject?
“We investigated her body and her supplies and found that she used rounds that were designed to penetrate dragon hide. After searching her, we discovered that she embedded a tiny splinter of her own talons inside each bullet. It turns out that can punch through dragon scale.”
“Yeah, Stonequest, I know. She was killed by those same bullets. I told you Jim told me about all this. It’s the same thing here.”
“I think…I think you might be right. But to think that a human did this…”
Then, Kristen understood. Stonequest had harbored the idea that these bullets were made by Death. After all, she had apparently manufactured them. She’d been attacked by someone wielding them, but he must have assumed her attacker had somehow taken the weapon from Death herself and turned it on her. Now, he had to confront the far more dangerous idea that these weapons were in the hands of humans.
Kristen—having been shot by one of Death’s rounds—had also assumed that the bullets were being made by dragons. Obviously, she wasn’t grappling with Stonequest’s disbelief in humans trying to murder dragons but still, this was big. “The implications of humans making these bullets is huge,” she said, trying to draw Stonequest out of his own head.
“We were concerned about dragons having this ability. If they can shoot each other from long distances the way that Death could…well, it woul
d change things—the rules of engagements, how duels work, that kind of thing. But I thought we had time. There simply are not many dragons who know how to use firearms. They hardly work against dragons and aren’t quite as reliable as fire breath, but this—the idea that humans have these things is…” He actually shuddered as his words trailed off.
“This is a genie that won’t go back in the bottle,” Kristen said. “Humans have these things. We’ve seen this twice now. And it’s become clear that people are targeting dragons deliberately. This isn’t some kind of self-defense or revenge. We need to solve this quickly.” She hoped Stoneqeust would say something about revenge. He had to know more about Windfire’s past than she did.
He shook his head. “I still can’t believe that humans are behind this, though. I think it makes much more sense that a dragon is in control here, telling these humans what to do and, uh—”
“And arming them? Do you really think a dragon is harvesting parts of their own body and giving them to humans? Come on, Stonequest, what’s harder to believe? Dragons look down on people. All of you do. There’s not a dragon out there who would ally with people, let alone give part of their own body to a human.” Not anymore anyway, Kristen thought and looked at Windfire. Had he worked with the very same humans who had killed him? She had to find out.
“But that implies a whole slew of impossibilities,” Stonequest argued. “If humans are in control here, that means they—they what? Captured a dragon and have it chained somewhere and harvest claws and scales as they see fit? I don’t care how professional these people are, that would be impossible.”
“Not necessarily.”
“Yes, it would. Think about it. First, you need an enclosure that can hold both a full-grown, fire-breathing dragon and also a human. That means no neck-chains or handcuffs or the dragon in human form could simply slip out. Then, there’s the aura to think about. A dragon could wear down even the most stalwart of guards. Even if they couldn’t, if any dragon flew within a mile of this prisoner, they’d feel their aura, which would no doubt disclose the suffering the dragon was going through. No, it’s not possible. People have never kept a dragon imprisoned. They never will.”
“Okay. So, if these humans haven’t captured a dragon and aren’t working for one—”
“I still don’t think we can rule that out.” It was like arguing with a rock. Stonequest couldn’t see past his own anti-human biases. How could they work this case if he wouldn’t even consider the basic possibilities?
“But there’s a third possibility,” Kristen said.
“Being?” He was doing a lousy job of suppressing his aura. She could feel his doubt even though she couldn’t see it on his face.
“What if there’s a dragon sympathetic to the humans? Maybe a dragon gave them this tech or their DNA or whatever and they turned on him.”
He shook his head. “You’re grasping at straws here, Kristen, and blaming the victim. Windfire’s been a part of the dragon community for millennia. He didn’t turn on us.”
“I’m not so sure. I heard him and the killer talking. I think she knew him. I think if we can find her and bring her in alive, she’ll be the key to all this.” The key to who I am, she wanted to say but didn’t. “Look, bring me in on the case to give you a fresh perspective.”
Kristen promised herself that once she found the answers she needed, she’d share them with everyone else, but she didn’t want dragons digging up her past without her knowledge. She needed to know more about this woman, whoever she was working with, and Windfire too.
“Dragon SWAT is handling the case, now. We can’t take interns on murder cases. Sorry, that policy is set in stone.” Stonequest’s aura made it clear that he wasn’t sorry at all.
“You’re making a mistake. This isn’t some dragon on dragon crime,” she said.
“That’s enough, Lady Steel. You’ve been through trauma so I’ll let it pass. We’ll do our best to determine what happened with the security and see if we can corroborate any details and maybe find some leads on this. I want you to take a few days off. We have a psychiatrist, trained at a human school. Talk to her. Make sure your head is on straight.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m not a cop. I’ve seen death before. I’ve been in situations like this.”
“The rules of Dragon SWAT are clear. We can’t bring an intern on. I’ll talk to you in three days.”
“Whose rules, Stonequest? You know you’re making a mistake. I can sense the doubt in your aura.”
“Four days.”
Kristen glared at him but she said nothing more. Instead, she walked from the mansion, past Jasper and Timeflash in the security room, past Heartsbane who paced outside in the snow, and past Emerald, whose dragon body flew the perimeter of the estate, a shadow eclipsing the stars.
She transformed as well and took to the sky. Initially, she started to head for home, but there was nothing for her there except an empty apartment, which was the last thing she wanted. On a whim, she decided to go to her parents’ house instead.
If Stonequest wanted her to keep her distance from dragons for a few days, she could think of no better place than her parents’ house to be reminded that she wasn’t one of them and never fully wanted to be.
Chapter Fourteen
Kristen finally reached her destination at the ungodly hour of four in the morning, so she did what any self-respecting person would do after a long day at work and passed out on the couch.
She woke five and half blessed hours later to the sound of bacon sizzling and the smell of fresh coffee. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see that Brian wasn’t crowded on the couch with her. She had expected to wake to her brother playing video games but instead, her mom sat in one of the chairs across from her in a knitted sweater and a floor-length skirt. Her parents had always believed in wearing warm clothes in winter, even inside. She hadn’t realized the house was chilly because her mom had covered her with a blanket. The caring gesture brought a smile. Dragons might have immense power and live for centuries, but none of them knew the simple pleasures of waking up to a family who cared about you.
“Morning, Mom,” she said, rubbed her eyes, and scooted to a seated position. She made sure that no part of her poked out of the blankets into the chill of the early morning.
“Morning, Krissy. Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, it’s, uh…” She didn’t even know where to begin. “What’s for breakfast?”
Marty noticed the deflection and change of topic but didn’t say anything. Kristen hoped all moms were as great as hers. Instead, the woman raised an eyebrow and spoke a little louder. “Ask your brother.”
“I am so glad you asked, dear dragon sister, for what I am preparing should feed even the biggest of appetites,” Brian boasted from the kitchen, his voice raised over the sizzle from the pans he manipulated.
“Oh, so you mean yourself?” she retorted, unable to help herself. Trash-talking with Brian was how they interacted. She didn’t know what their relationship would be without it.
“Seeing as how I’m slaving away here and you’re sleeping in, you might be right. I’m not sure if I did make enough for you,” he retorted with mock offense.
“Well, if there was—hypothetically—enough food to feed your sister who saved your life from a dragon assassin, what would you be cooking?” she asked.
“Okay, for the record, you saved us from a dragon because we were in trouble because you were a dragon. That doesn’t really count.”
“Your sister fought off many human bullies before she knew what she was,” their mom said.
“This is true. She also can’t cook to save her life and the thought of her stinking up the kitchen while murdering a couple of eggs sounds god-awful. Kristen, I’ve had a change of heart and decided to share with you.”
“How generous.”
“Now come to the table. It’s ready!”
Kristen pushed up and out from under the blanket and—as she had
expected—immediately felt a chill. “Mom, it's freezing.”
“Have a sweater,” her mother responded and tossed her one.
Hastily, she pulled it on and sat down to breakfast. She knew she wasn’t a Hall—not biologically, at least. Aside from the fact that she looked different and always had, she obviously possessed dragon powers, but sometimes, the starkest difference felt like it was the way the rest of her family cooked.
She liked to joke that Brian wasn’t a functional adult—more like a nine-year-old in a grown man’s overweight body—and yet he could cook. Before her, one of his scrambles was mounded high on her plate—onions and green peppers sautéed in bacon grease, plus chopped bacon and enough eggs to hold it all together. On top of this, he had put a dollop of sour cream and a sprinkling of chives. She had never used the little green oniony things in her own kitchen ever. Next to the scramble was French toast that—to her, anyway—was absolutely perfect. Instead of powdered sugar, he coated it with a scraping of jam and sprinkled crushed walnuts over it. All in all, it was the taste of heaven.
“Brian, have I told you that I love you?” she said between mouthfuls.
“Mom, I think Kristen must have brain damage and is about to die because she’s talking nonsense.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Brian. I’m sure Kristen will tell us why she’s here when she’s good and ready.” That was Marty Hall for “as soon as your father joins us at the table and you’d better believe you won’t leave this house until you tell us how and why you’ve risked your life, young lady.”
As if sensing the subtext of the statement, Frank Hall emerged from his bedroom. What little of his hair still grew from his head was wet, as was his hairy chest. “Damn it, Marty, it’s freezing in here!”
“It’s January in Michigan, Frank. Put a shirt on.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled as he vanished into the bedroom and reappeared with a faded Detroit Tigers hoodie on. “Please pass the scramble, Brian. Kristen! Tell us about work. How is being on Dragon SWAT?”
“It’s, uh…”
The Steel Dragon (Steel Dragons Series Book 2) Page 10
