by JD Monroe
“Any tattoos?”
No, but he grew green scales and a tail. That should narrow it down. “No. Not that I noticed.”
“What happened next?”
“Well, my roommate is missing. I called the police earlier to file a report—"
“What’s her name? Or his?”
“Her,” Natalie said. “Thea Leska. So, this guy said he was a friend of hers and told me some weird story about how he and Thea were friends and they’d been hanging out, but her phone was out of service and then her battery died. He kept trying to get in the house, but I had a bad feeling.”
“Understandable. Tell me about the gun.”
Natalie nodded. “I have a permit for it. I can get the paperwork if you need to check it. I always keep it locked up, but after Thea didn’t come home, I got freaked out and made sure it was close in case something happened.”
“Did you shoot it?”
Natalie nodded again. “The guy came into the house and I shot at him twice. I gave him a warning,” she said. The memory sent a fresh wave of dread and fear through her. Her pulse quickened. “I would never hurt someone on purpose. I was just so scared he would hurt me.”
“Did you hit him?”
She nodded. “It didn’t seem to hurt too much. It didn’t stop him.”
McQueen was taken aback. “Where’d you hit him?”
“The neck and the shoulder,” she said. Then again, the gleaming, overlapping scales had taken the brunt of it.
“Drugs, maybe,” McQueen mused.
Or dragons.
“I hid in the attic.” She pointed to the closet. “You can get in through my closet. He came out there but he didn’t see me. Then I called you.”
“Was your roommate into anything…illegal? Drugs, anything like that?”
Natalie almost got whiplash from the abrupt change. “What? No!”
“I have to ask these things. It’s very strange that this guy shows up and tries to hurt you on the same day you report your roommate missing. I’m curious what his connection to her was,” McQueen said. She tapped her notebook with the pen, then folded it. “I’d like to ask you some more questions, but it can wait until the morning. Do you have somewhere you can stay? Maybe a friend or family member’s house?”
She didn’t have anyone. Her family was almost non-existent. Thea was her closest friend. Perry was nice enough to let her stay, but she didn’t want to burden him, nor to maintain the bizarre balance of truth and lies that would leave out the part about the dragon. She sighed. “I’ll get a hotel.”
“Fair enough. If you want to call the station in the morning, someone can get you a report number. We may have some follow-up questions once we’ve had a chance to look into the case more. Why don’t you get an overnight bag packed, and we’ll stay in the house until you leave just in case.” She smiled. “And hey, keep your receipt. Your homeowners insurance may cover the hotel. Just a tip.”
Officer McQueen closed her notebook and headed downstairs. A few seconds later, she heard the woman talking quietly to one of the other officers.
Sudden, profound loneliness filled her room like a gust of cold wind. Even though it had been nearly three years since Mom died, she still had the instinct to pick up the phone to call her for guidance. This reminded her of those late nights in Mom’s last days, when cancer had eaten away so much of her that there was hardly anything left except a thin shred of dignity. Too tired to sleep herself, Natalie would watch her mother sleep, breathing shallowly in the brief interludes where she found respite from pain. On those nights she felt like she was in outer space, disconnected from a world that continued to turn as if there nothing was wrong.
Except for a few distant cousins she’d met once as a kid, her brother was her only remaining family. He was halfway around the world with the Army in Afghanistan. She had no boyfriend or husband to put an arm around her to reassure her that everything would be okay. Her roommate was missing, and some guy had literally transformed into a dragon to attack her in her own house. And now she had to go to a hotel because her own house wasn’t even safe. From dragons. Because apparently those were real now.
Her life was officially a train wreck.
She tried to dam up the tears as she went into her ransacked closet to pull out a duffel bag. Thomas had yanked the entire bar from its brackets, spilling the entire contents of her closet onto the floor. What was the appropriate attire for fleeing to a hotel post-dragon attack? Picking through the crumpled clothes, she decided on her favorite pair of jeans and a loose floral top that made her feel pretty. After adding pajamas and underwear, she made a mental note to pack her laptop and its charger so she search online for information on Thea. Someone had to know something. As she pondered, a realization struck her. She felt stupid that it had taken this long to make the connection.
Had Erevan sent Thomas to attack her? He knew where she lived, and the timing was awfully convenient. Especially after she’d ignored his command not to call the police. Was this his retribution?
Natalie hurried to stuff her toiletries into the duffel bag and ran downstairs. Officer McQueen was still standing in the living room chatting with her partner. “Hey, I just thought of something.”
McQueen raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”
“I called a friend of Thea’s this afternoon to tell him she was gone.” McQueen’s expression shifted, looking suspicious. “He was weird and evasive. I don’t know how they know each other or anything, but she had told me to call him if something ever happened to her. He said they were family, but I didn’t think she had family here. Anyway, he came over this afternoon. He was really adamant that I didn’t call the cops. Doesn’t that seem weird?”
“That is weird,” McQueen said evenly. “Can you give me his information? I’d like to talk to him.”
A shrill ring pierced through a vivid dream of soaring over endless green forest. He groaned and opened his eyes, disappointed to find himself earthbound and nestled into his leather couch. Had he missed his alarm? Pain twanged through the side of his neck as he looked around at his dimly lit apartment. Damn couch.
Slivers of moonlight poured through the horizontal blinds and painted stripes across the dark hardwood floor. Not morning, then. He patted himself down for the noisy phone, then finally found it lying face down on the rug next to the couch. With a grumble, he checked the time to find that the ring he’d mistaken for an unwelcome alarm was a phone call. The number was local, but not one that he recognized. “Hello?”
“Hello, Mr. Sulkas?”
Erevan sat up straight, scrubbing at his bleary eyes. It was past midnight, the woman was speaking English, and she knew his name. Those three factors made him instantly suspicious. He cleared his throat. “Yes? Who is this?”
“Hi there, this is Officer Sheri McQueen with the Asheville Police Department. I have a few questions for you.”
His heart thumped as he mentally replayed his day. “May I ask what it’s about?”
“Sure thing,” McQueen said. “Do you know someone named Thea Leska?”
His mouth went dry. How did they know? “I do.” Had Natalie called the cops after all?
“Did you know she was missing?”
“Yes.” Shit, that sounded suspicious. “Well, I heard from someone who couldn’t get in touch with her, if that’s your definition of missing.”
“What’s your relation to Miss Leska?”
“Distant cousins.”
“Interesting.” There was a little lilt to her voice that he didn’t like, as if she was holding back on something. Without looking in her eyes, it was hard to tell if she believed him. “Do you know her roommate, Natalie Thomas?”
“We’ve met.” He should have known she was going to be a pain in his ass.
“And do you have any information on where Miss Leska might be?”
“No.”
“Miss Thomas seemed to think you would.”
“She’s mistaken.” He could wring her neck. “A
re you accusing me of something?”
“Of course not. But it would be very helpful if you’d come down to the station and answer some questions for me.”
“Sure, I’d be happy to.” Face-to-face, he could put this to rest with a touch of his hand. As long as they didn’t start running sensational news stories about Thea, he could contain this.
“Oh...okay. Great,” McQueen said, apparently surprised by his agreement. “Come see me in the morning, if you can. Ask for Officer McQueen and I’ll meet you. Thank you.”
By the time he hung up, he was seething. His anger was a low ember that glowed brighter with each passing second. Who did this human think she was? He swiped through his contacts and called Natalie. If he had to be rudely awakened, it only seemed fair to wake her. Tit for disobedient tat. It rang twice before a sleepy voice answered. “Hello?”
“Natalie, why did I get a call from the police?”
“Who is…oh. Erevan.” Her voice clarified, taking on a sharp edge. “I don’t know, why did your friend come to my house and try to attack me?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he spluttered. “Who attacked you?”
“Like you don’t know.”
“I don’t. Explain yourself.”
Barely restrained anger lurked between each word she spoke. “You came to my house and gave me the whole creepy ‘you better not call the cops’ speech. Four hours later, some guy shows up talking about Thea and turns into a goddamn dragon right in front of me.”
He coughed and pulled the phone away as if he’d had a burst of bad reception. Did she say dragon? “He did what?”
“He turned into a dragon. And I would have thought I was just going crazy except I found actual fucking scales on my floor.”
“T’haran dan keth,” he breathed, lapsing into Kadirai for the satisfying lilt of profanity. This changed everything. “Where are you?”
“How stupid do you think I am?”
He tried to temper his irritation. “Natalie, I’m serious. If a dragon attacked you, you’re not safe, and—"
“No shit, I’m not safe!” She paused. “Why aren’t you surprised? I said ‘dragon’ and you didn’t bat an eye. Or a word. Whatever the phone equivalent is.”
“I need to know where you are. I can protect you.” His mind raced with the possibilities. If a dragon shifter had attacked Natalie in her home, there had to be more to Thea’s disappearance than a drunken night of debauchery. And leaving a witness was foolish, which meant they would likely return to finish the job. Natalie might have been quick-witted enough to hide from one, especially if her attacker had expected to smooth things over with compulsion and had to improvise when she resisted. If it was Erevan’s issue to deal with, he’d return with a strike team and scorch the house to its foundation to be certain he’d left no loose ends.
She was quiet for a long stretch. “Can you? You can fight a dragon?”
“Thea’s not the only one with secrets. Tell me where you are.”
“Denny’s on Cobb Road.”
“The diner? You’re sleeping there?”
“I’m not sleeping there,” she said hotly. “I’ll meet you there in an hour. If you mess with me, I will hurt you. Ask your friend.” Then she hung up.
Erevan stared grimly at the phone. This was bad. The Exiles had been in the human realm for over a hundred years. His parents had told him that the early years were difficult as the dragons learned to blend in. They often had conflicts with humans. But that was no longer the case. Whether it was fear of the Skywatch or simply desiring a simpler life, most of the Kadirai didn’t interfere with humans. Dragons minded their manners, kept to themselves, and occasionally used their compulsion to smooth over problems.
Maybe it was cold and opportunistic, but this situation could work in his favor. As a Skywatch investigator, he’d been dealing with the Wanderers for years, but he wanted to step up to the big leagues. They didn’t have many cases, but the elite Tempest division dealt with more serious crimes. He’d been trying for a promotion for years, but he’d been rejected over and over. If he could find out what happened to Thea and connect it to the attack on Natalie, he would be writing his own ticket.
After freshening up, he hurried out of the small apartment and down the stairs to his car. Many of his kind, the Exiles, eventually bought houses further out in the country, where they could transform and fly at night. Work kept him in the city most of the time, so it made sense for him to live there.
It was after midnight, and the city was nodding off to sleep. Everything was a pleasant shade of yellow-orange, painted by the moon and the streetlights. A light mist sprinkled a haze across his windshield. Instead of driving to the diner, Erevan drove toward Natalie’s house.
He made a slow pass by the house first, watching for any police cars. There was no one in the driveway, and no movement visible inside the house as he drove by. He turned in the middle of the street and drove back to the house, parking on the curb in front of the neighbor’s house.
Erevan got out of the car and sauntered up the driveway, letting his supernatural senses take over. The unmistakable scent of magic washed over him, like steam billowing out of an oven. The smoky scent of dragon was there, but something lurked under it, as if something rotten was burning. He scrunched his nose and tried to tune out the putrid smell. There had to be something dead or rotten in someone’s garbage nearby. He focused on the filament of magic, but the more he focused on the dragon scent, the more intense the smell of decay grew. Bile rose at the back of his throat, and he finally resorted to pinching his nose and breathing through his mouth.
He set his jaw and hurried to the front door. Finding it locked, he checked over his shoulder and kicked it open. The door flew inward, banging against the wall. He walked into a cool, still house that reeked of dragon.
Broken glass glittered on the far side of the house, lying in a blast radius around what had been the sliding glass doors. He surveyed the dark room, looking for any clue to the attacker’s identity. As he scanned the floor, his eyes caught a dark splatter. Had Natalie been hurt?
He knelt, pressing his fingers to the dark liquid and raising it to his nose. Thick and metallic, it was blood, but not human. The electric, smoky scent was pure dragon. He frowned and continued surveying the room. A large chunk of the wall near the stairs was missing. Judging by the smaller, pointed indentations around it, it had come from a dragon swinging its spiked tail in a tight space. Running his fingers over the ruined drywall, he found the sharp edge of a scale. It was like translucent green glass, with sharp edges and a variegated pattern of dark and light green. He pocketed it, then hurried up the stairs. The carpet on the stairs was ripped in wide, talon-sized gashes. The thin spindles were bowed and splintered outward from a massive body forcing its way through.
Surveying the bedrooms gave him no new information, except that Natalie’s attacker had been intent on finding her, judging by the mess in the first bedroom. Clothes were strewn everywhere. Though she’d been an unparalleled pain in his ass today, there was something that made him surprisingly angry about the state of her room. She didn’t deserve this, and his kind should have been better than this.
A quick tour of the house revealed more broken furniture and a pervasive smell of rot. There was nothing more to find here. He walked outside and stood in the yard, listening to the subtle hum of night noise. Closing his eyes, he breathed deep and tried to pick out the thin thread of the dragon that had been here. His stomach rolled as he got a face full of decay. He had to cover his mouth. What the hell was that? He could still smell dragon, but there was no way he could track it through that terrible stench.
He hurried back to the car. As he got in, he lamented that he had to drive instead of letting Ruana take the wheel. He debated calling her for backup. She’d be interested and would probably berate him in the morning for not telling her. But she had a date, and he didn’t want to interrupt. The thought of her and Kahl was already bad enough,
and it would be even worse to wake her up and have her show up smelling like him. He sighed and laid his phone in the empty passenger seat.
The all-night diner was adjacent to a chain hotel on Cobb Road. Despite her attempts to be surreptitious, he would bet money that Natalie was staying there. Erevan parked next door at the darkened donut shop and turned off his lights. He still had four minutes until he was supposed to meet her.
With two minutes to spare, a lone female figure exited through the front doors of the hotel. She paused in the loading area to inspect her surroundings. Despite the balmy weather, she wore a jacket and had one hand braced on her hip. She was armed, and not doing a good job of being subtle about it. She hurried across the parking lot and into the diner. As she stepped into the bright light, her shoulders relaxed.
He waited another few minutes, then walked inside. She sat in a booth in the back corner, drinking a dark soda and fiddling with the corner of the menu without reading it. As he approached, she stiffened and put her right hand down on the bench.
“Don’t shoot me,” he said dryly.
Her eyes widened. “I’m not—"
“I know you have a gun,” he said. “I’m not stupid.”
She set her jaw and stared at him. “What are you, exactly?”
Even with the dark circles rimming her eyes and the messy ponytail spilling strands of hair around her flushed cheeks, she was pretty. The jutted-out jaw and squared shoulders tried to send one message, but he could sense the fear under it, a quick-moving current under thin ice. “Can I sit?”
She waved her hand in invitation, and he sank into the booth across from her. What was his play here? She’d already seen one of their kind, so convincing her everything was normal was out of the question.
