by Alexis Davie
“Please, let’s sit down. I’d be happy to talk to you about the trip. I’m just sad you weren’t able to attend.”
“Talk? You want to talk?”
Cassia frowned. That didn’t add up. She tried to look past him into the bathroom to see what he had done that made him act so differently. One moment he’d been panicky and obsessive, twitching incessantly, and the next second he was calm and normal.
Even beyond the mannerisms, he looked like a completely different person. Before, he’d been soaked in sweat, his hair had been something of a mess, and his pupils were abnormally dilated. And then there’d been the nasty vein business. Right then, he looked professional, like he was ready to walk in and seal a big deal instead of thinking about robbing someone for drug money. He was still sweaty, but he seemed to have washed off his face and refreshed himself.
“What were you doing in there?” she asked him.
He scooted between her and the door, guiding her away. She thought she could see a blue tendril of something vanish off the counter like a fire, but before she could decide if it was just her mind playing tricks on her, it was gone.
“Just freshening up,” Hale assured. “Nothing to worry about. So how have you been? Good, I hope?”
He was saying all the right things, but he wasn’t saying the right things right. She could see through his facade in a way that most people probably couldn’t. He was hitting all the notes he was supposed to, but Cassia could tell he was running straight off his intelligence to say the right things, not because he was actually interested.
She had watched him act this way with business associates, and eventually with her. He could always fake the perfect mix of politeness and feigned interest. It was irritating. She hadn’t seen through it for the first hundred years, which is probably why he had won her over. By the time she’d figured him out, she’d already been with him for a century and just accepted that part of his personality.
Later, when Hale was off talking to the staff about something or another, Cassia went into the bathhouse to find out more about the blue tendril.
She snuck in quietly, as to not be noticed by anyone. She glanced around to make sure that nobody was watching before dodging in. She pulled the door closed and locked it.
She sniffed loudly. With her dragon senses, her sense of smell was off the charts. She could pick out anything. If she’d transformed into her dragon self, she would probably be able to smell even better, but she was the size of a car in dragon form, and the last thing she wanted to do was destroy the garden bathroom while transforming. She decided to stick with her amplified senses.
Cassia sniffed throughout the bathroom, all over the counter. The floral aromas of the plants were stimulating her senses, making it difficult to sense anything new, but she could just barely make out something. What? She had no idea. It smelled like burning metal mixed with honey, which was an odd combination. It certainly was a very distinctive smell, one that she didn’t recognize.
Blue spark. Weird smell. Obsessive behaviors. Wanting salt water to drink.
Hale was on drugs.
Not drugs that were available to mortals. Hale had to go for harder drugs. The magic underground was full of them. Cassia knew nothing about drugs because she’d never really liked them. Sure, she had experimented a few times, but she liked being in control of her body and senses. Hale didn’t tolerate employees that were caught with drugs, and Cassia stayed away from the magic underground, so she didn’t even know who to ask for help.
Her first thought was Sam. If anyone knew about the magic underground, it was her. She’d spent half her life there, trying to screw herself up as much as possible with as many things as possible, before she met Hale. She could identify the signs and could probably tell Cassia about the blue spark and the odd scent.
Then Cassia thought better of it. Sam, though she was friends with Cassia, worked for Hale. Sam took that responsibility seriously. Sam wouldn’t lie to Hale if he ever questioned her. Cassia had already risked the lives of Sam, Ivan, and Igor just by talking to them about her suspicions regarding the death of the Chancellor. Cassia would never willingly put Sam in danger.
She looked down at her anklet. Then she remembered someone who would know that didn’t answer to Hale. Terran. Terran would know about the blue spark, the scent, and why Hale craved salt water. He’d be able to explain what was going on.
Was Cassia ready to do that? She couldn’t turn back. To go behind Hale’s back and talk to his worst enemy about his drug problem? She wasn’t, no matter how worried she was. She sure wasn’t going to do that the night of his homecoming. She was eager to hear how everything had gone. More precisely, she was eager to hear his excuse for not being in New York.
She left the bathroom silently and joined her boyfriend downstairs.
5
The rest of the morning, Hale kept up the facade well enough. He hit every question with perfection. He even acted interested when she told him that she’d found a lovely pair of boots at the store. That’s what sealed it for her. Hale would never act interested in that. Before the trip, he would’ve laughed with her about it, but he wouldn’t have made a grand show of pretending to be interested. What had happened?
Perhaps the strangest thing was that he kept drinking salt water, glasses and glasses of the stuff.
“Doesn’t that hurt your stomach?” Cassia asked.
They were playing a game of pool on a handcrafted table lined with red velvet and ornate silver metalwork around the corners.
He gulped down the last bit of salt water, which didn’t come from the ocean. Instead, at Hale’s request, the staff had given him a glass of chilled water and dumped in some table salt.
“Nope,” he replied. “Tastes delicious.”
She gave him a funny look before taking the shot in the game. The white ball ricocheted off one ball. The one she was trying to knock in almost made its way into the hole before it veered off course and came to a stop right in front of where it was supposed to go.
“I’m just thinking about your health. It seems odd that you’re drinking that.”
“Don’t worry so much.” He slammed the glass down on the pool table. “Watch this.”
He sank his ball and pushed his hips forward victoriously in a humping motion. An abnormality for him to be so crude. “What a shot!”
She smiled faintly, trying to hide her disapproval of his uncouth behavior. “So, in your travels, did you hear about the Chancellor?”
He paused. It was just for a second, but it was enough for her to notice. “No. What happened?”
She watched him carefully. “He was murdered.”
He was shocked just a touch too early, like he knew what she was going to say and misjudged how long it would take her to say it. “Murdered? By who?”
“I’ve heard some names,” she said. “Yours was one of them.”
“Really?”
“Really. The funny thing is that he was killed in New York. But you didn’t go there, right?”
“Right.” He turned his back to her. “Hey! Someone get me another glass! Extra salt!”
“Please stop drinking salt water. You’re going to die of dehydration.”
“Nonsense.” He leaned down to take another shot. He lined up the stick on the white ball and eyeballed the angle.
“I saw a picture of you in New York.” She didn’t mean to blurt it out, but she wanted to see his reaction.
Hale didn’t move. He kept staring at the white ball silently. His knuckles were white with pressure.
Cassia felt dread creep over her. She’d said it. She’d said it, and now she was going to figure out…something. She didn’t know what, and she was scared to learn.
Hale moved up jerkily, forcing a strange smile on his lips. His lip was twitching in the forced grin. His eyes were staring at her, but they were as distant as the sun, like he was seeing her but he wasn’t in the driver’s seat of his body.
He moved over to her sh
akily and got right up close to her, pinning her up against the wall with his body. She normally would have fought, but his actions took her by such surprise that she didn’t have time to blink. Abruptly, her back was pressed up against the wall, and he was right in front of her, his chest against hers.
He leaned down close to her. The nauseating scent of his sweetly metallic breath permeated the air. As short as she was, her eyes were about level with his throat, and she could see his blood pumping through in blue surges. Something was very much not okay.
“Hale, get away from me!”
The pool stick in his hand snapped.
“Honey,” he said in an alien, broken voice. “I had a wonderful time this morning hanging out with you, but I am feeling ill now. Please, come to the bedroom with me. I want to show you something.”
With that, he pulled away. His eyes glittered madly, and he slowly wandered back to the rest of the house. He dropped the broken cue stick beside the table.
Cassia stood in stunned silence, watching her boyfriend walk away with a jerky motion. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.
As soon as he was gone, she reached down and skimmed a shaking hand across her ankle bracelet. “Terran.”
The moment her skin skimmed the soulstone and she said his name, she felt a shudder move through her body. Somewhere, wherever he was, Terran would be headed her way. It was a relief to know he was coming towards the signal.
She moved towards the door, trying to remember how to think. What had just happened?
Cassia could hear something shatter in the other room. “Get me some fucking salt water, dammit!” Hale roared.
Cassia was out the back door before anyone was the wiser. She had to talk to Terran. She had to get away from Hale before he went nuts. It was over between them. She couldn’t stay with a man like that. She was terrified. She didn’t know what to expect from her boyfriend’s erratic behavior. If anyone could protect her, if anyone could explain what was going on, it was the Keeper of the Mountain, Terran.
She shivered from the chilly wind outside, but she didn’t stop to get a jacket. She still wore her sexy dress and heels, heels which caught on a stone and almost took her down. She looked back towards the house, trying to remain calm. She was tough as nails. Whatever was going on, she would get through it. She would. She knew Hale would normally be angry that she was leaving without a bodyguard, but she hardly cared. Hale wasn’t thinking straight, and he was entirely too dangerous to stick around. She needed help, and she needed it now. She knew where to find it.
Cassia mounted up on one of the bodyguard’s motorcycles and pulled on a helmet. It was way too big, and she instantly tossed it off.
The cars were always guarded, just in case someone wanted to plant a bomb on them. Hale wouldn’t want Cassia to leave, so his guards wouldn’t let her. Her best shot was to steal a bike and get away. It was still late in the morning; they’d picked Hale up, and she’d played a game of pool with him. Typically, they’d be on their second—or third—round of passionate lovemaking, but she wanted to get as far away from Hale as possible.
As she straddled the bike and prepared to drive off, Sam was abruptly in front of her, grabbing the handlebars.
“Where are you going?” Sam asked.
“Get out of my way, Sam!”
Her bodyguard didn’t budge. “I’ll ask you again. Where are you going? You know I’m hired to stay with you to keep you safe, and I can’t do that if you drive off on a bike by yourself.”
Cassia cared about Sam, but Cassia had hit her maximum level of patience, and she twisted the throttle to accelerate. The wheel roared up between Sam’s legs. Sam had to move out of the way quickly.
“Fuck!” the bodyguard snarled. “Cassia! Stop!”
Cassia did, but only because she didn’t want to hurt her friend. Still, Cassia was in no mood to deal with anyone. “Get out of my fucking way!”
Sam stepped back, rubbing her inner thigh where the tire had clipped her. “Cassia, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I suggest you tell me right now!”
“I’m upset, and I’m leaving,” Cassia replied hastily, hoping that she could escape before other guards saw the drama taking place.
Cassia’s chin trembled ever so slightly, not because she was scared but because she was so furious that her boyfriend might have killed a political hero and was probably on a very potent drug.
“Are you going to try to keep me from leaving?” she growled.
Sam’s eyes softened. “No. But I’m coming with you.”
She pulled her radio up. “Falcon, checking in. I need a replacement on the west side of the house. Anyone have me?”
Cassia knew what Sam was doing for her. She was risking her job at the very least, and quite possibly her life. Sam knew Hale was not acting like himself. Sam was willing to help her friend run away, not knowing if they would come back.
Her radio crackled back. “Falcon, we have someone for you. You’re free to go. Everything okay?”
Sam’s silver eyes watched her dragon-shifter friend. “Yeah,” she said. “Just…tired. Falcon out.”
She hopped on another motorcycle and fired it up. Unlike Cassia, whose motorcycle expertise capped out at riding along the road and trying to avoid falling, Sam was an expert. She’d done impossible things on a bike. She was one of those people that ended up on the internet for balancing on the handlebars of a speeding motorcycle or something crazy. She had the perfect mixture of daringness with lack of thought for consequences.
“Well then,” Sam said, pulling on her helmet, “we better get out of here before my replacement comes.”
6
Cassia hadn’t thought the whole “no-helmet” plan through. When she’d tried it on and found it was too big, she’d just tossed it off and driven off.
Bad idea.
Right after getting on the road, she caught a dragonfly to the face and almost fell off. Nothing is quite like going a solid seventy miles-per-hour to get pelted with a bug on your forehead. The dragonfly splattered, giving her a wonderful makeover with bug guts. Showing up to see her ex with a bug across her face wasn’t going to impress. Ugh.
When she drove, she kept her speed low because of the bugs, and then there was the fact that she hadn’t ridden for years, and she hadn’t quite gotten ahold of the movement again. She was afraid that she would lose control and fly into one of the trees.
Meanwhile, Sam drove along without a care in the world. She looked like a natural bike rider. The most obvious difference between her and Cassia was that she wore pants, so she looked like she belonged on a bike. Cassia had also not thought that one through—wearing a dress on a bike was a really bad choice. The dress was tight, so she pushed it up as high as it would go to be able to straddle bike. The ride was miserable.
As Cassia drove, she let her mind wander to get her focus off her troubles. Terran came to mind, like always. The thought of seeing him again was exhilarating and frightening, but the memory of their break-up came flooding back.
As Cassia remembered, it was a cool, summer day. Terran had always done whatever he could to make her happy. He’d built her a home on a tropical island, a luxury treehouse in the rainforest, and a cozy cottage high up on Kilimanjaro. They also had an underground home, which was the center of his kingdom. On that particular day, she tended to her garden at her home along the Atlantic coastline in North Carolina.
It had only been six months after their second miscarriage. Even after the tragedy, they knew they loved each other deeply and had been together for nearly six hundred years. Cassia believed she would spend eternity with him until that fateful day. She believed their emotional distance from each other was only temporary, but it had taken a bigger toll on Terran than she had known.
The second miscarriage happened when she was two months along. It was tragic. To cope with the loss, Cassia planted a large, beautiful garden on her North Carolina property. If she couldn’t have children, she want
ed to find a way to cultivate life, and she did this though gardening. The garden was her happy place. She knew the pain would never go away, because she had already had one miscarriage, but she also knew the pain would subside over time. Every evening, she walked through her garden alone with her thoughts.
Terran came up behind her and firmly planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Hello, darling,” he breathed.
“I am not in the mood, Terran,” she sighed. “Today is not a happy day for me.”
“When will you get over this, Cassia? It has been six months now. I am sorry we lost the baby. Trust me, I feel the loss, too. But we are alive, and we will be alive for eternity. We need to live in the present rather than focus on the past. We will have a baby someday.”
“Are you truly that insensitive, Terran,” Cassia spat as she felt the heat rise from her core. “Do you not understand that a woman feels connected to the baby, even before it is born? This has been very hard on me. I have wanted a baby for centuries.”
“I cannot do this, Cassia. I need you to come back to me. I want to live. I want to enjoy all the beauty the earth provides.”
“I need time, Terran. If that is how you feel, then maybe we are not supposed to be together!”
Cassia regretted the words as soon as she said them, but she didn’t apologize. The truth was, he hadn’t been insensitive. He’d cried with her, listened to her pour out her feelings, and comforted her. The healing process just took longer for her than it did for him.
He roared in anger. Claws extended from his fingertips. He slashed out at a nearby tree, lopping straight through the trunk like he was holding a laser instead of just claws.
“Do not blame this on me!” he snarled. “It was not my fault!” he looked big, half between dragon and human form. He pulled himself back under control, trying to collect himself. “Neither of us wanted this to happen.”
