by Tricia Owens
Tonight, though, I had won. It hurt to end the kiss with Vale, and I only relented because his hands cupped my cheeks in a wordless request to separate.
"I'm okay," he assured me, his breath moist against my lips. "I need to know about you. Did they touch you? Hurt you?"
"Never had a chance." I combed my fingers restlessly through his hair. "And as you can see, I found my uncle. They'd been keeping him there all this time. Oh, Vale, I feel so bad for him."
His expression grew grim. "Did they experiment on him?"
"He said they drew his blood and did some medical testing but dragon blood doesn't show up using medical devices. Without that, he's an ordinary human."
"That's good." Vale's gaze drifted out of focus for a moment and I knew he wasn't thinking of Uncle James, but of me.
I stroked his hair. "We got out of that as well as we could have. My dragon doesn't show up on digital recordings. They won't have any idea what just happened or how we all escaped. They'll waste time trying to find out where their security failed. Forget all of that. We need to focus on the Oddsmakers."
"And Kusahara."
I made a face at the mention of the mysterious man in black. I much preferred Will Smith or Tommy Lee Jones over him any day.
"I'll deal with him later. I'm not letting him hold anything over our heads. But for now, he's not our immediate threat, and it's actually good that he works for the government." At Vale's questioning look, I elaborated. "He's from our community. You think he's going to allow scientists to learn too much from Vagasso's corpse? No way. He's got a vested interest in making sure that any testing of magickal beings fails or yields inconclusive results. He might have been doing it for years. He'll probably tamper with whatever testing they did on you."
Vale moved aside so I could sit up. The white and green lights from the gas station turned the sky minty.
"It's weird that the Oddsmakers allowed Vagasso's corpse to be taken," I said, thinking aloud. "I almost wonder if they've skipped town. Vagasso might have been their muscle. Now that he's gone they're not as confident that they can stand up against us and the Rebellion."
"Or they're lying low, and this is an attempt to lure you to them. They might be counting on your curiosity."
"They wouldn’t be wrong." I was dying to know what was up with them. Their sudden non-interference was a complete one-eighty from their usual behavior, and I doubted that it had happened by accident. Worst case scenario, they no longer cared if the world learned about them; they had something big and bad planned that changed the game completely.
Vale twisted to look behind him, at the gas station. "How is your uncle? Two years is a long time to be held in isolation."
"Not to mention he was continually interrogated. Kusahara might be one of us, but I didn't get the impression he'd revealed himself to my uncle to let him know that he wasn't alone. Poor Uncle James," I lamented. "He must have felt like he'd been forgotten by the world."
It was a knife to the gut, made all the worse because there could be no retribution. No way was I going after the U.S. government and starting up a magickal war.
"Kusahara is deeply embedded," Vale agreed. "He didn't blink an eye while others were questioning me."
"And by 'questioning,' you mean being slapped around," I growled.
He smiled a little as he studied my expression. "I'd prefer the term 'tortured' to 'slapped around.' It sounds manlier. But you're right. They didn't hurt me in any real sense, but they wanted to soften me up. Kusahara didn't attempt to stop them. I wonder what he would have said if they'd wanted to move me to a cell with a window."
"He'd demand that you be dragged down to the dungeon instead," I said, irritated. "Maybe even offered to be the first to lash you with a cat o' nine tails. He may be one of us, but I'm not sending him a Thank You card."
"Speaking of cards, here's his. You dropped it."
I pocketed the business card that Vale handed me, though I couldn’t imagine a scenario in which I'd want to call Kusahara.
The sound of running footsteps made us both tense up. It was only Uncle James, jogging from the gas station, but I sensed that an emotional distance had grown between us and it made me nervous.
"I found enough money to call Melanie," he told us as he puffed for breath, hands on his knees. "She's on her way." He reached up and wiggled a finger in his left ear. "When I identified myself she screamed. She's the same Melanie I remember."
I grinned nervously. "That she is."
Uncle James didn't look at me, and I was paranoid, afraid that he was tuning me out because I'd gone against his wishes and used my dragon. I watched with jealousy as he turned to Vale.
"I'm sorry, but I couldn't find you any clothes. I had hoped to steal a T-shirt from the shop, but they didn't offer any for sale."
"It's alright. As long as you two don't mind my nudity for the next half hour or so…" Vale looked in the direction of the lightening sky. "I'll be shifting soon."
"A gargoyle," Uncle James marveled, unabashedly looking him over, nakedness be damned. "I had no idea your kind existed in the Americas. My understanding was that you made your homes in Europe."
"Moody told you about my brother and me?"
Uncle James took a moment to parse the "Moody" bit but then nodded. "Incredible how intertwined our lives are. I was proud of my sister for refusing to do the Oddsmakers' bidding in assassinating your brother. Now that I see how things have unfolded while I was gone, I believe Fate is on our side. Dragons and gargoyles working together may prove to be the key to dismantling the Oddsmakers for good."
"Right now, we need all hands on deck to figure out what happened to the Oddsmakers," I said.
Finally, Uncle James looked at me. My knees trembled at the lack of animosity on his face. I could tell he remained disappointed, but he still loved me. He said, "A good place to start will be Tomes."
I stared at him and half-wondered if I'd heard him wrong. "Tomes? The bookshop run by a surly seventeen year-old?"
He smiled. "Yes. That one."
"Why would Orlaton know where they are?"
"I doubt that he does. But he's not the only one in Tomes with helpful knowledge."
He said it nonchalantly, like it was something we all took for granted. But I didn't. I boggled at him. "Who else lives in Tomes?"
He seemed to realize he may have spilled the beans on something that wasn't common knowledge and possibly for good reason. His smile turned guarded. "Perhaps I should allow him to explain."
"Orlaton isn't exactly the sharing type," I pointed out, but I couldn't help being hopeful that he might prove differently. Orlaton had a secret roommate? I couldn't begin to imagine who could put up with the kid for longer than an hour. Orlaton was an acquired taste for sure.
"Let me know what you learn," Vale told me. The sky was purple behind his head. With only a brief glance at Uncle James, Vale transformed into his gargoyle.
Uncle James gasped and abruptly squatted down to bring him to eye level with it.
"He's not a dog," I murmured, afraid Vale might take offense.
But his gargoyle sat there patiently, content to allow Uncle James to study him from every angle. Its little tail swept back and forth in the dirt like a windshield wiper.
"Before you ask," I told my uncle, "he speaks telepathically."
"Remarkable." He rose to his full height again, albeit reluctantly. "My first encounter with a gargoyle." He beamed at me proudly.
The sight of that wide, innocent smile hurt me. All at once my vision was blurry. "I've missed you, Uncle James."
"Oh, Anne, I've missed you, too, my fierce little dragon." He hugged me and squeezed me tight with his thin arms. "So much has happened. I don't know if I've done right by you."
Knowing he was talking about me going full dragon, I couldn't help wincing.
"You did everything right in raising me," I assured him, leaning back as golden light broke over the mountains. "I've got a good chance of defeating the
Oddsmakers. I just need a little help and knowledge."
He nodded, but his expression was guarded, and it was obvious he still had a major problem with my choices lately. It hurt, even if I understood his concern.
He turned his head and glanced at the ground. "Oh! He's turned into stone!"
Smiling fondly, I picked up Vale's gargoyle statue and cradled it like I would a baby. A baby with a snarl and long fangs. "Isn't he cute?"
Uncle James looked at me in bewilderment and then smiled. "You've changed so much. It feels like I've been away for decades."
I laughed without much humor. "With the experiences I've had, I have to agree with you."
~~~~~
Melanie, predictably, chatted a mile a minute with Uncle James. He was used to her loquaciousness and had always listened to her with patience and a smile. But this morning I could tell that he truly enjoyed the sound of her voice and her energy. Melanie was probably a breath of fresh air to him. At least for the time being. Odds would change dramatically in a couple of hours if she didn't wind down.
"So, wow, totally weird that there's a Man in Black on our side!" she exclaimed as she pulled her Prius up to the curb in front of Moonlight Pawn. "I thought those guys were actually aliens in disguise."
"No more talk about aliens," I told her as I exited the car.
"It played into a safer narrative, but I agree that us claiming to be extraterrestrial was laughable at best." Uncle James paused on the sidewalk and drank in the sight of his shop. "There she is."
"Missed it?" I asked him softly as I stood beside him. "Don't blame me for the door, by the way. I'm sending the government a bill for that."
"And Anne only burned the place down a couple of times, ha-ha!"
"Monkey…" I growled, making Melanie giggle.
"I'm sorry that you were forced to take on this responsibility." Uncle James found my hand and squeezed it, his eyes still on his shop. "I know you only ever considered it part-time work. You never asked for this."
"Meh." I shrugged, trying not to think of the many times I'd groaned about having to take care of the shop. It was pretty selfish of me, in hindsight. But I had been immature then. I was a much different woman now. "It had its ups and downs. I think lately I've been okay with it. It's introduced me to a lot of people and new magickal beings."
"I hadn't intended for you to meet them alone," Uncles James said, and for the first time since seeing him in the military facility I sensed bitterness in him. "From what you've told me, you've had to make a lot of enemies. I wish I could have helped you deal with that antagonism."
I was afraid we'd begin talking about my dragon again, so I said lightly, "The good news is they all still hate me, so if we survive this you can work on my PR campaign."
He chuckled, his darkness melting away. "How anyone could dislike you, much less hate you, is unbelievable to me."
"That's what I say!" Melanie chipped in.
"Now that we're all agreed that I'm awesome and charming, let's get inside so you can take a shower and get refreshed. I'll put Vale somewhere safe and fill Melanie in on all the fun she missed out on."
Once inside, though, I felt awkward. I'd converted what had once been my uncle's private space into my own and packed his things in the backyard storage. No way had I ever intended to throw anything out, but I was still slightly embarrassed—ashamed?—that I'd replaced his things with mine.
I hastily cleared out my junk enough that he could move around in the bathroom without tripping over hair products. The bathroom dripped blood from the walls and ceiling until Uncle James and I both blinked to banish the curse. While he took a shower, I pulled out the boxes containing his clothes and stacked them in the bedroom so he'd have something to change into. I used Lucky to burn his white "jail garb" in the backyard. Good riddance.
Next, I filled Melanie in on all the government shenanigans that had occurred.
"So crazy," she breathed in awe when I finished. "Was Uncle James gonna just stay there forever if you'd never been captured and taken to him?"
"Maybe. He was running interference for the rest of us, convincing the government that we're all aliens. The government is afraid to outright hurt us in case revenge comes in the form of an interstellar war."
"You'd think that that Kusahara guy would've done a good enough job convincing them of that, but I guess having a real life alien in custody was even better." She gave a sheepish smile and glanced out the front windows of Moonlight. "So you think we're all being watched by secret agents? All the time?"
"Not sure about all the time, but yeah, they know who I hang out with and they probably have photos of you, too."
"Ooh, I feel kind of important!"
Leave it to Melanie to put a positive spin on government surveillance.
"Or maybe they don't," I added. "After all, they didn't have any video footage of my dragon, so apparently some magick doesn't register on recording equipment. Your monkey form might go completely unnoticed."
"Like I'd be the Invisible Woman." Melanie laughed. "I'd totally do bad things with that power."
"It's a good thing you're not evil, then," said my uncle as he emerged into the shop wearing a fresh set of clothing. The few black strands covering his mostly bald head were damp. "Have you girls come up with a plan yet for saving the world?"
"We're thinking about it," I replied. "Are you up for going to Tomes right now? I won't get any sleep while the mystery of Orlaton's roommate hounds me."
He nodded.
"Orlaton has a roommate? No way!" Melanie rushed to the door ahead of Uncle James and me and flung it open. "Is it a girl? Does he have a girlfriend?" Then she shivered a little. "Actually, I'm not sure I want to see who would date him. She'd probably be even weirder than he is and he's majorly weird! Two of them—oh, man, way too much weirdness for me to handle."
"I'm with you," I told her as we left Moonlight and headed across the street, "but no matter what, Mel, we have to be respectful. We need his—their—help. Right, Uncle?"
He shrugged in a suspicious manner that I'd seen from him before. "What aren't you telling us?" I pressed him.
"Anne, it's not my place to say. But I believe Orlaton will voluntarily surrender the information when he hears what has happened."
I wasn't sold. "Maybe the Orlaton you knew two years ago isn't the same one that we know."
He smiled faintly at that. "Perhaps."
As Melanie pressed the doorbell of Tomes, I continually scanned the sidewalk and the other homes and businesses. It was strange to be on the lookout not only for magickal creatures and beings but for government soldiers and maybe more men in black. I'd never received so much attention in my life, but I hardly felt flattered.
The little window in the door slid aside, and Orlaton's watery blue gaze peered out, annoyed as usual.
"You don't have an…" He trailed off, his large eyes rounding even further when he saw Uncle James.
"Hello, Orlaton," my uncle said gently. "Look who's back."
Of all the reactions I expected from Orlaton, fear was the last. But there was no mistaking what filled his eyes as they darted from Uncle James to the street and back again. "They released you?"
My jaw dropped to the ground. I pushed past Melanie. "Wait a second. Are you telling me you've known all this time that he'd been kidnapped by the government? And you didn't tell me?!"
A touch on my arm. "Anne—"
"You let me agonize over whether he was even alive…watched me suffer…" If my eyes could have shot laser beams, they would have fried Orlaton head first.
"Anne, no," my uncle tried to reason with me. "You don't understand."
Orlaton had saved the lives of Christian and Vale. It was the only reason I didn't blast the door down with Lucky. "Then tell me," I ground out, never breaking my glare with Orlaton.
The skin around his eyes paled, but he nodded. "Come inside, and I'll tell you everything."
Chapter 5
Tomes was usually sp
ooky, but without the urgency of an impending demon attack or the Rift opening beneath our feet, the place was simply gloomy. Or maybe that better described my mood.
I stuck close to Orlaton's loafered heels just in case he tried to pull a runner, but he only led us into the rotunda where many good times were had. Yeah, right.
"So out with it," I demanded once Orlaton put his back to the end of a bookcase as if needing its support. "Why did you not tell me where my uncle was, or that he was even alive?"
Orlaton, dressed in a light blue dress shirt with a white vest over top and a black bowtie, crossed his arms over his chest and hugged himself. It was such a childish, defensive pose that I felt guilt creeping up on me. I had to remind myself that Orlaton might be seventeen years-old, but he was also a genius, and he'd seen things that most adults never would. Dabbling in the occult had a funny way of maturing a person. He was no innocent flower.
"The short answer, Miss Moody, was that I feared if you knew, you would attempt to free your uncle."
I just stared at him.
He fidgeted, obviously not expecting that. "It would have been disastrous," he elaborated. "You would have revealed your sorcery to all the wrong people."
"Or maybe I would have found a way to rescue him without doing that," I retorted. "I would have had time to make a plan."
"Maybe," he conceded, looking uncomfortable.
"Um, how did you even know that they'd kidnapped him?" Melanie asked. "No one else knew."
"Good question." I didn't think Orlaton had sold out my uncle intentionally or unintentionally, but I did wonder if his occult connections stretched farther than I'd realized.
