Bonds Broken & Silent

by Kris Austen Radcliffe

“So they’re sorry I felt aggrieved by their generous application of faulty software?”

  “Looks that way.” She shrugged.

  Several signatures filled up the bottom portion of the letter, including a robo-signed scrawl that was supposed to indicate that the head of Special Medical, one Dr. Eric Nakajima, gave a crap. The other three, all members of his “assigned CHARLES support team” who were “always available to answer his questions” made him stop walking.

  He had three people with similar names who worked at Praesagio Industries and who had been assigned to “look out for him.”

  The only words that bounced around inside his head were Oh, shit. “Can I keep this?” He waved the paper around. He’d give it to Daisy right away.

  Dr. Montgomery pointed down the hall. I already downloaded the new update, she signed. The tech in Portland says it will fix the language distinction problems.

  He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to completely lose his super-hearing. He glanced down at the paper again. So his moment of value must have ended the moment he separated Daisy from that crazy morpher.

  Obviously, everyone and everything was out of his league and he’d better get used to it, friendships or no friendships.

  He followed Dr. Montgomery down the corridor wondering, once again, about the shit-storms of his life.

  His phone buzzed in his hand. Reception usually dropped to nothing deep in the building, so he stopped again, out in the hall where he had at least a couple bars. Daisy probably had a coffee question. He’d warn her about the—

  He looked down at his cold, black screen.

  I suggest you let things be, Mr. Bower. Live your life.

  He must have sucked in his breath because Dr. Montgomery was staring at him wide-eyed. Was he being dismissed?

  His phone flickered. Thank you for your service.

  When his phone rebooted, he stuffed it into his pocket, not knowing what to think. Or what to do.

  Or if, at this point, if any action would make a difference.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The St. Paul campus of the University of Minnesota, now….

  In the weeks that followed, Mr. Pavlovich’s team handled all non-hearing-aid-specific communications between Gavin and Praesagio Industries. “Let the lawyers deal with it,” Daisy said. The impression he got was that everyone wanted as many layers as possible between him— the fragile normal—and the Fates in Portland. The only information anyone gave him was that Praesagio had promised to stop messing with his life now that they’d returned his hearing aids to their normal functioning.

  No more death threats appeared on his phone. Daisy told him to stay quiet about the angel Fate, to let her handle that particular point of intel, which he happily agreed to do. Seemed the wisest course of action.

  Rysa called a couple of times. They talked about finishing classes, how this new life affected her, and how it affected him.

  When she asked him to be her “bestie of honor” he laughed and said sure. Why the hell not? he thought. At least he wasn’t completely useless, now that they’d taken away his special gifts.

  Now he leaned against Daisy’s kitchen island, the countertop’s cool granite under his elbows, and watched her feed Radar and Ragnar. She might not want a relationship, but they’d become good friends over the summer. To his surprise, she always prominently displayed the gifts he brought her, and the console under her massive television in the living room was littered with bobblehead German shepherds and dog-shaped chia pets. He also made a habit of bringing her the cleanest- and freshest-smelling cut flowers he could find and they always ended up in a vase in the foyer.

  At the coffee shop, she’d told him how she became entangled in his life, about her mother, her time with Rysa’s father, and what she knew of the angel Fate. But she wouldn’t talk about the other Fate, the one who’d abused her.

  They’d walked back to her place, her boys pacing them down the street. The last he heard, Emergency Rations—Emmy, as Ivan called her—was happily living her corgi life at The Land of Milk and Honey right alongside the boys’ mother, Dawnstar.

  “Want me to order pizza?” He flipped out his phone and held it up. They’d found an organic café near campus that made all sorts of hipster food Daisy was willing to eat. Mostly, though, she did her own cooking, saying that restaurant food smelled bad.

  But it might be nice for her not to have to cook, since she was about to welcome guests into her home this evening.

  “Sure.” She smiled as she tucked the dogs’ bag of food back into the cabinet. “They’ll be here soon. Order extra.”

  In less than an hour, Rysa would walk through Daisy’s front door, her fiancé and his dragon in tow. Gavin nodded and placed an order for an extra-large pizza with only the toppings he knew Rysa and Daisy both liked.

  He set down his phone. “Pizza here in thirty.”

  Daisy walked around the island. “Thanks,” she said.

  The late August heat drove a breeze through the house, countering some of the summer’s swelter. The last two summers had been bad—hotter than normal and more humid—but Daisy didn’t seem to mind. She rarely ran the house’s air conditioning, and tonight was no different.

  Radar and Ragnar stood at their food bowls and sucked in their chow more than chewed, both finishing in short order.

  Daisy leaned against the kitchen counter. “I need to make up their bed.” She glanced at the ceiling and her face did a little twist. “Dad had the house tested before he bought it. The joists can handle a near-ton of dragon, but I still wonder, you know?”

  Gavin got the impression that Brother-Dragon was about the size of a Clydesdale, but shorter at the shoulder and longer at the tail. Ladon hauled the beast in a big truck-van similar to the ones used by delivery services. Daisy said that they’d modified the vehicle to carry all their gear in the floor, so the beast had room to turn around.

  The thought of a dragon poking his head between the seats of a big van seemed absurd on levels beyond the other crap he’d experienced three months ago. Smelly Burner ghouls? They fit every bad and crazy homeless person stereotype, so Gavin understood how they managed to stay out of society’s sight. Shifters with multiple combinations of superhero powers? A subset could make a person forget what they saw, so he understood that one, too. Fates who saw the future? They tended to be rich and powerful, and the rich and powerful were very good at hiding what they didn’t want the plebs to see. But for some reason, dragons seemed a bit much.

  Though, if he admitted it to himself, the dragons weren’t the problem, but the humans with whom they lived. Ladon, who had already taken Gavin’s place as Rysa’s best friend, was about to saunter his alpha ass into Daisy’s life again.

  Jealousy was immature. And stupid. And probably wafted off him in waves of stink Daisy had no choice but to smell with her bloodhound enthraller nose. But no matter how he tried to get it out of his system, it crept back in.

  “How long do you think they’ll stay with you?” He’d almost moved in three months ago, when he and Daisy returned from Mount Rushmore, more to make sure she was okay than for his own protection.

  Losing a parent was hard on anyone. Mr. Pavlovich might search for Daisy’s mom, but no one knew for sure if she was alive or dead. Rysa tried seeing with her Fate abilities, but got nothing. It now seemed as if Cecilia Reynolds was gone for good.

  Daisy pulled two water bottles from the refrigerator. When she handed one to Gavin, she touched his hand. Her skin felt warm, soft, the way it always did. And she smiled. “They can stay as long as they need to.”

  Both Gavin and Rysa had two semesters remaining before graduation. He planned on medical school. Rysa, a master’s degree focusing on protecting fragile ecosystems.

  At this point, Gavin doubted she would follow through with her plans. Being a Fate seemed to be an all-in, all-encompassing job, even for someone without attention issues.

  Daisy, for her part, was in the residency of her
veterinary training. She’d be off soon, returning to Branson, to run her father’s operations.

  Gavin didn’t know if that’s what she wanted. She’d been quiet about most everything, though she’d opened up today. He didn’t pry. It wasn’t his place. And Rysa had explained enough about how Fates operated that he figured asking questions usually led to more problems than they solved.

  Which went against his instincts. Doctors needed information to diagnose. So not asking took a lot of cognitive effort, and like so much of this new life, made him feel useless.

  But it had, strangely, made him appreciate Rysa’s difficulties more. All the control he took for granted did not come naturally to his friend.

  It did to Daisy. She nodded toward the kitchen door. “Come help. We’ll make the beds before the pizzas arrive.”

  Gavin took a sip from his bottle. He was about to help make the bed Rysa would be sleeping in with the unbelievable dragon’s human.

  Daisy shook her head and walked away, into the hall. “Ladon is like a brother to me,” she called over her shoulder.

  She must have sniffed his jealousy. Gavin frowned and followed her down the hallway, toward the stairs. The house had three bedrooms and a large, open attic. If Daisy wanted him here, he could still move in.

  Maybe he should ask. He’d be around to help out with beast care, both canine and dragon.

  Daisy stopped at the base of the stairs, one hand on the exquisitely carved banister and the other on her waist. “Brother-Dragon will smell your attitude, Gavin.” She shook her head again and started up the steps. “He’s a person, just like Ladon. And me.” She turned and wiggled her finger at his nose. “And you.”

  Gavin threw his most charming smile. “Better work on my bedside manner, huh?” Best not to have a dragon pissed off at him.

  Daisy continued climbing the steps. “They went through hell at the same time we did.”

  Rysa hadn’t said much about it, but he’d guessed. And Daisy’s father had said something about “issues.”

  So, yeah, Daisy was correct. Gavin needed to work on his bedside manner. He’d rein in these weird, jealous emotions. Daisy didn’t need more crap, especially from him.

  Neither did Rysa. They’d all been through enough.

  He followed Daisy up the stairs and around the corner to the attic door. Two California King mattresses had arrived about three weeks ago, along with sheets and pillows and a giant white down comforter, all courtesy of Mr. Pavlovich.

  It seemed the man took as good care of the dragons as he did his daughter.

  Somehow the delivery guys had managed to maneuver the huge mattresses into the attic. The two massive squares of coziness now lay side by side on a big puddle of clean canvas in the center of the open attic. He’d helped Daisy move up a couple of dressers, and a long workbench-like table, which now sat about five feet in front of the room’s large front window.

  Daisy’s attic was a nice space—open and airy, with one window overlooking the street. A good breeze moved through as air pushed in the window and down the steps to the second floor, providing excellent ventilation. The exposed brick and open beams of the space added character. The floor boards squeaked, but having an upstairs neighbor, even a dragon, probably wouldn’t be too bad.

  Daisy, though, seemed sad about losing her workout area. He’d helped her cart most of her equipment down to one of the spare bedrooms. The gymnastic rings and the trapeze bar she’d left, saying the only other option was the garage outbuilding behind the house, but they’d cleared that out as well, to make room for Ladon’s van.

  But as Gavin looked around, he thought the space fit Rysa and her wide-open, airy soul.

  Daisy flicked out a white bottom sheet over one of the mattresses. “They should be comfortable here.”

  Rysa said that she and Ladon were looking at properties, so Gavin doubted they’d be here long. He suspected Daisy thought the same, though knowing she’d have “family” around seemed to cheer her up.

  When they moved out, she’d be alone again.

  Gavin walked over and caught the opposite corner of the sheet. Quickly, he yanked it over the mattress end. They didn’t speak much as they made up the second mattress. Gavin fluffed the pillows while Daisy smoothed the black and white blankets. When they finished, she stepped back into a puddle of light thrown by the front window, her hands on her hips and her lips puckered as she surveyed their work.

  “Should hold them. Though I suspect Brother-Dragon will want things different.” Daisy grinned and nodded toward the steps. “Pizzas should be here soon.”

  Out front, a large vehicle rumbled into the street. Gavin nodded toward the front of the house. “Sounds like now.”

  Daisy shook her head. Grinning still, she took his hand and pulled him toward the big window overlooking the front step. Her lovely, elegant fingers grasped the gauzy curtain as it fluttered in the breeze.

  Across the street from her house, a huge black van rolled to a stop. From the attic’s window, Gavin couldn’t clearly see the driver, but heard the passenger side door open, then close. Someone moved around the back of the van.

  The driver’s side door opened. A large man dressed in black swung out his legs. He dropped to the street, his wide shoulders rolling, and he rubbed his hand over the top of what looked to Gavin like a wide, raven-black mohawk.

  The man glanced around as he closed his door, his gaze taking in every area of the street. His shoulders rolled again, his stance changing, and Gavin all but felt the precision this man carried. He looked as if he knew the exact location of every possible hiding place on the block. And exactly how to kill someone stupid enough to try an ambush.

  The back door of the van swung open. The van rocked, but no one—no beast—stepped out.

  Rysa bounced around the side of the van and into the man’s view.

  She looked different. Stronger. Taller, too. More together, even if her clothes were as disheveled as they’d always been.

  The man’s stance changed. A smile brightened not only his face, but his whole body. He no longer looked as if he’d snap the neck of anyone who came too close.

  Rysa took his hand and he drew her close. They touched foreheads briefly and words Gavin could neither hear nor read passed between them. When she stepped back, still holding the man’s hand, they both looked different. Him, calmer. Her, more together.

  “Rysa looks happy,” Gavin said.

  Daisy watched, her hand still wrapped in the curtain’s fabric. “So does Ladon.”

  But from her tone, Gavin suspected not happy in the way Daisy had hoped to see.

  The outside wall creaked and a low, sub-sonic vibration rattled through the window. Gavin flung himself back from the glass as if his body thought it might break even though his rational mind knew it wouldn’t. “Did you hear that?”

  One corner of Daisy’s mouth curled up. “Hear what?”

  Gavin peered at the window. Nothing changed about the quality of the light, or the shadows. But he could have sworn something moved by.

  “It sounded like a far off, rumbling volcano.”

  Daisy laughed and pulled him toward the steps. “Brother-Dragon will show himself once they’re inside.”

  The doorbell rang as they hopped the last steps into the entryway. Radar and Ragnar barked, both wagging their tails, and Daisy pulled them back. “Sit!” she commanded as she swung open the door and threw her arms wide. “Ladon!” A strong hug followed.

  When she let go, Ladon stepped by her and into the foyer.

  The rumbling he’d heard earlier rolled through the space. Gavin peered out the door, wondering if another big vehicle had just driven by, but he didn’t see anything, so he stepped back.

  Ladon wasn’t much taller than Gavin, though he did have the upper body of a boxer. He didn’t move like a gym rat though, like the guys who conditioned the same way every day, working muscle groups separately for pop. Ladon moved like Daisy—assured and centered.

  “Yo
u are Gavin Bower?” Ladon extended his hand.

  The wide, black mohawk and the full stubble did nothing to make the other man look calm and friendly. Neither did the black clothes.

  “Yes.” Part of Gavin wanted to back away. Part of him narrowed its eyes and whispered that this challenge, also, needed to be accepted. “Nice to meet you.”

  But the little voice was just immature jealous shit he’d told Daisy he’d keep in check.

  Ladon seemed to read Gavin’s thoughts. A twitch flickered across the man’s cheek. Whether the man had real mind-reading abilities or was just that good with body language, Gavin didn’t know. Daisy didn’t tell him the details of Ladon’s life.

  An invisible snort blew across the back of Gavin’s neck.

  He flinched, but managed not to yelp.

  Ladon grinned, obviously enjoying Gavin’s discomfort. “Rysa says you sign?”

  Gavin nodded. “I do.”

  Ladon bent to greet the dogs as Daisy closed the door behind Rysa. The women watched each other, both tipping their heads. Both with faces that said they were more uncertain about this moment than either one expected to be.

  Rysa’s eyes clouded over as if she were looking at something on the inside of her corneas and not at Daisy, who twisted her head as if to say Yes? As if she expected an answer to an unspoken question.

  Rysa smiled again. Slowly, she reached out to Daisy and took both her hands. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. For my family. For me.”

  Daisy opened her mouth, but shut it again. When Rysa offered a hug, she took it, and the two women held each other the way Gavin would expect of two long-parted sisters. “You’re welcome, daughter of Sandro Torres.”

  Rysa laughed and squeezed Daisy’s hands again. “You and I are going to be great friends,” she said, her voice wistful.

  “Hey, Rysa,” Gavin said.

  She all but threw herself into his arms. “Gavin!” she squealed.

  Ladon frowned.

  Rysa stepped back but continued to grip his elbows. “You look good!” She leaned close. “I heard about your allergy. Sorry about that.” She grinned again.