The phone rang twice, then picked up. “Tarek Windstriker,” the rich male voice said. Tarek was the ranking Gatekeeper at Broken Stone Gate.
“Tarek, this is Dyadra Macias.” Eileen wandered by, staring into the car as she passed.
“Oh…yes, ma’am,” he said, a note of urgency entering his voice. “Is everything all right? What can I do for you?” Tarek was one of only a few dragons in the area that knew who she was. When she and Will had helped with the reconstruction of the Broken Stone Gate, he’d been in charge. At their first meeting, Tarek had practically groveled at her feet when he found out about her history. It was unnecessary and off-putting, and she’d sworn him to secrecy. No one needed to know.
“I need help. Someone attacked my family, and I will bring them back.” A terrible thought entered her mind. “Have you told anyone who I am?”
“Of course not!” he exclaimed. “I promise you, only myself and my lieutenant, whom you also met.”
“I see,” she said. “I need assistance.”
“Of course, we will send someone right away. Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. Send a wind dragon. Someone who can cover their own tracks.”
There was a long pause. “Kordari, please do not be rash,” Tarek said, using the old-fashioned and almost humorously formal address. “The law must still hold. You must not expose us.”
“Do not tell me of the law. If you wish your secret to be preserved, send someone now.”
Two
This had to be a bad dream.
Wake up! she told herself. Opening her eyes revealed only the black bag over her face, speckled with pinpoints of light creeping through the woven fabric.
The truck rumbled over a speed bump, jarring Allana from her shocked daze. She rose from the metal floor and slammed back down, sending a jolt through her body. A low groan emanated from her father’s chest. Her heart raced. Each gasping breath pulled the material to her nostrils, constricting her air. Her hands were bound with a thick plastic tie in front of her, pulled so tight it was making her fingers tingle.
“Let her go,” Dad groaned. She couldn’t see him, but she’d felt the broad plane of his back as they tossed him into the truck, where he landed unceremoniously across her legs. There had been several awful, meaty sounds as fists sank into him and he recoiled, though he never shouted out in pain.
An even female voice spoke, enunciating carefully in Kadirai, her mother’s native language. “Tell me where the map is and I will drop her on the road now.”
“What map?”
Another hard blow, and a sharp gasp from her father.
This couldn’t be happening. Not to her father, big and strong as a mountain. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. Just an hour ago, they’d been in the safety of their home, and now the world was upside down.
Dad had surprised her by picking her up from school, sparing her a trip home on the bus. Riding home with Dad usually meant an impromptu shopping trip or frozen yogurt, but she dreaded the walk to his car. The older girls lingering outside stared at him like a pack of hungry lions circling a gazelle. That was bad enough on its own, but her keen half-dragon senses picked up on their conversations, which ranged from the relatively innocent—I heard he used to be an underwear model—to the absolutely disgusting—I bet he’s huge. You know what they say about guys with big hands.
Gross, she thought.
As she walked past some of the gossiping onlookers, she pasted on a smile and hoped Dad didn’t hear the same thing. His face split into a wide smile when she got into the car. Relief swept over her when he rolled up the window, hiding them from the nosy gawkers. “Your mama texted me. Someone got an A on their exam, huh?”
She couldn’t help beaming with pride at the look of approval on his face. “Ninety-six.”
“That’s my smart girl,” he said. “A deal is a deal.”
Fifteen minutes later, he was waiting patiently at the sports store while she tried on shoes, checking them each in the mirror to make sure they didn’t make her legs look stumpy, or God forbid, give her cankles. She’d begged him for a month to buy her new shoes, and he’d agreed on the condition that she got all As and Bs on her upcoming report card. Biology was the last final, and she’d nailed it. Condition met. New shoes incoming.
Once they got home, he let her go to her room to have her space instead of interviewing her about every detail of her day like Mama. Her mother wanted to know what she learned and how people were treating her and all these other unnecessary details. She was like, two hundred years old, and didn’t get how high school worked. Allana wasn’t sure her mother had even attended school back where she was from. Not that she was stupid or anything. But everything about school and teenage life in general seemed to confuse her.
Allana was watching Netflix on her phone when she heard the thump of a car door outside. Their whole family had sharp senses; it came with the dragon blood. Mama could hear an argument on the other side of the neighborhood if she tried. And sarcastic responses from down the hall, as Allana had found out when she was younger. Allana was part human, from Dad, but she was still sharp. That sound was a big vehicle, not Mama’s little car. There were muffled voices, too, but she couldn’t make out the words.
She sauntered out of her room, bare feet slapping lightly against the hardwood. The window in the small gym across the hall faced the street. A big white truck was parked in the driveway, backed up to the garage door next to Dad’s car. She frowned, craning her neck to see if people were in the yard. There was no one there.
The front door opened, sending a subtle tremor through the house. Her father shouted in surprise from the kitchen. Her eyes flew open, and she released the blinds with a snap. She froze in the small room, rooted to the rubber floor mats. She wasn’t strong like Dad, and she didn’t have the elemental force that both he and Mama had. The skin along her spine crawled; she could change and fly away if she had to, just like Mama taught her. But where would she go?
Something crashed. Glass shattered. A chorus of angry shouts echoed from down the hall. With blood pounding in her ears, it was hard to tease out the individual voices.
Think.
Staying on her toes to move lightly, Allana darted across the hall and grabbed her phone. She held her breath and closed the door quietly. With her heart pounding, she called Mama. Come on, pick up! No answer. Shit. She was teaching classes today. She hurriedly typed a text message.
Something’s wrong, there’s someone in the house
A deafening crack of thunder rolled through the house, and someone screamed. The entire house shook on its foundation. She shouted in surprise as her door flew open. Her father was there, a deep cut on his cheek streaming blood down his jaw.
“Get out of here,” he hissed. He thrust one hand out. Arcing white energy emanated from his palm, shattering the big window on her back wall. “Go!”
Then he lurched forward, and she saw a gleaming point of glass emerge from his shoulder, dripping red. She screamed involuntarily. As he pitched to his knees, he revealed a red-haired woman standing in the doorway, one hand raised before her. Her eyes glowed eerie blue as her fingers danced. The blade of glass turned slowly, and her father groaned.
“Go!” he bellowed.
Allana planted her bare foot on the bed, preparing to launch herself out the window and into the back yard. As soon as she sprang for the window, a powerful gust of wind blew through the window and shoved her backward, toppling her vanity and spilling her makeup onto the floor. A stocky man stood in the backyard, blocking the open window. The electric scent of magic suffused the air.
“Don’t go,” he said in a threatening voice. His eyes flashed white.
Her mind reeled. The window was big enough for her to fly out. She could change fast. As she surged to her feet, ready to take her small flying form, the woman reached toward her. A long, thin spear of ice formed in her hand. The sharp point rested at the hollow of Allana’s throat. Its touch was glacial, with col
d digging into her like freezing roots.
“Easy there, child,” the woman said. “Bind them both. Blow the house.”
Blow the house. What did that mean? They’d been rough in tying her hands, and they’d covered her face before pulling her out through the garage, but they hadn’t really hurt her yet. But Dad…her stomach twisted at the thought of it. While the woman still had her blade on Allana, her lackey stuck a needle into his neck. His eyes were heavy and glazed, but he was still conscious and angry enough to fight.
And where was Mama? Why hadn’t she answered? Mothers were supposed to know when something was wrong. She was always going on about how it was her job to protect Allana. Allana’s friend Maggie was sure that Mama had installed one of those sneaky apps on her phone that tracked where she was going.
“It’s not because I worry about you. It’s because I worry about everyone else,” Mama would say in her faintly-accented voice.
Well, what good was it doing now? She wasn’t worried enough, apparently. And her phone was on her bed, lost in her thwarted attempt to get out the window.
An elbow dug into her thigh. “Ow!” she exclaimed. Suddenly there was a heavy body slamming into hers, and the smell of sweat and blood overwhelmed her senses. Her stomach turned at the unfamiliar scents, even as the familiar scent of her father enveloped her.
“Hey!” a male voice shouted.
Her father’s voice was insistent and quiet in her ear, his stubbled jaw scratching her cheek. “Be calm. Don’t fight them now. When I signal, you change and fly away. Get your mother,” he said in Kadirai, quiet and calm. “Don’t look back. I’ll be fine.”
“But—"
“Listen to me,” he said.
A sharp blow echoed through his chest and into hers as someone struck him in the back. “Separate them, for fucks’ sake,” the male voice yelled. His voice echoed off the truck’s empty interior.
Her father growled in rage as he was pulled away. There was a solid hit and a groan as he exhaled painfully.
It was an ugly thought, but why did it have to be Dad here with her? He was strong. She couldn’t count how many times people had asked if he used to be a pro athlete. He wasn’t full dragon, but he could fight and call lightning down from the heavens as easy as breathing. Mama might have been full-blooded Kadirai, and an old dragon at that, but she was weak. She was small even for a human, and was comically tiny next to Dad. Her chances of rescuing them from armed kidnappers who also had magic weren’t so hot.
But she had her instructions. She had to trust Dad. Wait for the signal. Change. Fly away. Get help.
Three
The scent was gone.
The scaled colossus that resided in her growled in frustration as she turned about. A concrete arch of interstate soared overhead. The cacophony of a hundred speeding vehicles roared in her ears. Leaving the smoldering ruins and her curious neighbors behind, Dyadra had walked out of the neighborhood, following the tantalizing smell of her family.
Away from the smoke, she’d found a solid trail. It was like a shimmering thread connecting her to Allana and Will. Darting across busy streets not meant for pedestrians, Dyadra had followed the trail into the busier part of town, and eventually to the interstate onramp. And now, it was gone.
It was all too much. Bright-colored billboards were a patchwork of chaos against the clear blue sky, while roaring engines and honking horns screeched in her sensitive ears. Tractor trailers belched long plumes of smoke into the clear sky, mingling with the smells of greasy steam from a dozen fast food restaurants clustered around the interchange. Like trying to grasp wet sand as the tide pulled away, she kept finding the vaguest hint of them before another thick, stinking cloud invaded her nose.
It had been too long since she’d hunted this way, armed with little more than a trail. It had been one of her greatest assets once, and here she was, stuck. Frustration and despair competed for her attention. She was supposed to protect her family. And she was standing in the parking lot of a Burger King, trying in vain to find their trail. As she contemplated the risk of taking her dragon form in plain view of the Burger King’s patrons, her phone began buzzing.
She nearly dropped it in her haste to take it out, only to find an unfamiliar number on the screen. With her heart racing, she controlled her voice. “Hello?” she said in English.
“Dyadra Macias?” an even male voice asked. “Tarek Windstriker sent me to help you. I’m at your house, but your neighbors said you walked away. They seemed very worried. Where are you?”
“The Burger King near the interstate,” she said absently. She took a deep breath, trying again for the scent, but charred beef and French fry grease overwhelmed her senses.
“The Burger…okay. Stay there. I’ll be there soon.”
Ten minutes later, a white car pulled into the lot. As the car turned, the passenger window lowered, and the male driver leaned down. He stared at her. “Dyadra?” he said. He was young, maybe ten years younger than Will, and clearly of her kind. Even with the competing scents all around her, opening the window was like releasing the seal on a pressurized container, and a scent of dragon billowed toward her like steam. “My name is Ikran. Tarek sent me,” he said in Kadirai.
She leaned over to get a closer look at him. His dark hair was cut short on the sides, with a longer section up top that flipped over in a rakish style. His amber eyes reminded her of Tarek, the older dragon at the Gate. She’d met Ikran in passing months earlier, a newly recruited Gatekeeper to replace those who had been slain. “I remember you,” she said, releasing a sigh. Sweet goddess, it was good to see one of her kind.
“Get in. Please,” he said.
She sank into the seat and let out a heavy breath. “Thank you. You are a wind dragon, yes?”
“Yes, but—"
“There is a park not far from here. Perhaps a mile past the on-ramp. I will change, you will provide cover.”
“Hold on,” Ikran said. He pulled into the parking spot she’d been blocking for the last few minutes and shifted gears. His brow furrowed in concern. “I know this is very stressful, but I cannot let you change out in public.”
“Let me?” she said. The casual words ignited in her belly like a spark, and for a moment, she entertained the fantasy of blowing the windows out of the well-kept car. He had no idea who she was. Had Tarek sent someone to manage her, instead of sending her help?
“I meant no offense,” he said, putting up his hands defensively. “I only mean to say that it would be dangerous.”
“My senses are much more powerful that way,” she said. “Time is wasting. They have a head start, and I have already lost time by walking.”
He contemplated. “Does your daughter or husband have a cell phone?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You may not know, but there is technology to trace their phones. I have a contact in law enforcement who can triangulate—you see, the cell phones all operate from towers, which—"
“I know how cell phones work,” she said dryly. “I am old. Not stupid.”
His cheeks flushed. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I wasn’t sure if you knew.”
“I know. The old ways are still better.”
“Not if you get spotted by the evening news and end up with a helicopter following you. If we can get a signal on her phone, I can call for backup and have them meet us there. That would be even better than a scent. Let me try. Please?”
She frowned. “And if this fails, you will provide cover as I requested?”
“I will,” he said, nodding. He offered his hand. She grasped it. Energy thrummed under his skin like electricity. “Write their numbers down for me, and I’ll make the call.” The car’s dark interior was impeccable, but he managed to find a single receipt and a pen in the glovebox and handed it over. With a steady hand, she copied Will and Allana’s numbers onto the paper for Ikran. “Just a moment, and I’ll call.”
She nodded and got out of the car again, closing her eyes as
she lifted her nose and tried to find them. They were somewhere out there. Perhaps hurt. Images flashed through her mind; Allana crying, Will bloodied and broken. She didn’t have to imagine too much; she had seen enough in the Great War to fill her mind with nightmares for a hundred lifetimes.
Maybe this was a punishment. She’d been young when the war began, training to protect her people but not expecting to do it so soon. But she’d fought, year after year, turning the tide against the Raspolin. It had taken years of fighting, but they finally turned the tide and sent the Raspolin running. Some fled to the far reaches of Ascavar, while others fled into the unfamiliar wilds of the human world.
The dragon queens of Ascavar had turned to the Arik’tazhan then, the elite warriors who had tirelessly defended their people through the war. Appropriately named “The Unresting,” the Arik’tazhan would hunt every last one of the Raspolin down. Destroy their magic, destroy their weapons, destroy every last one of them who had made it their religion to destroy dragonkind. And Dyadra had done it. Up until the fateful battle that dropped her from the sky, out of control, and shattered her into shards of bone and shredded flesh. It was a miracle that she lived, and more still that she recovered as well as she did.
With the damage done to her body, she’d just assumed she would never bear a child. And that had seemed fine. From the moment she’d left behind the world she knew to come into the strangeness of the human world, she had known her life was not meant to be like her mother’s. The occasional fling satisfied her physical desires, but she remained solitary. She had the Arik’tazhan, and she served her duty, minimal as it was decades after the last of the Raspolin fell.
And then came Will. The moment she met him, something changed. He’d showed up to help with some security training at the Gate, adding American military training to the formidable warfare of dragonkind. With no idea who she was, he asked her on a date. Twenty-four hours later, everything was different. She’d been alone for years, but hadn’t realized she was lonely until she watched him walking down her sidewalk after an enchanting date. She’d had to hold herself back from chasing him down. Six months later, they were married, and a year later, the surprise she’d never expected: a daughter. She broke away from the Arik’tazhan, and it seemed fair that over a hundred years of loyal service was enough.
Scales and Flames Page 33
