Sirens and Scales

by Kellie McAllen

  Because Nerv was involved with dragon business. With her.

  She settled on the far side of the cliff, away from Minerva’s too-observant gaze, and set the small dragon down in her lap. “We’re getting you home.”

  He quirked his head at her and jade eyes glittered up at her with razor sharp intelligence. Perhaps a wise one for the Council dwelled within this one. Or an herbalist. Or a monk. She’d never been gifted at telling the destinies of the dragons not yet hatched. Even among the little ones, she hadn’t yet perfected the shaman’s gift of Knowing.

  Where is that? I was all alone.

  She patted his head. “Little one, you will never be that again. You will find your true purpose and your family when you get there.”

  The girl who saved me? Can she come?

  Saff had to take a few extra breaths before speaking. “Minerva has to stay here. She doesn’t belong there.”

  Truer words.

  You’ll tell her that she made me happy, right? Before I was scared, always scared.

  Saff nodded and then, closing her eyes, summoned the mental connection she shared with her closest friend and fellow shaman. In this form it was a struggle, but not nearly as hard when she had a deep connection to the other. It was probably how Rory had heard her at all. Roryneela, please, we have found one alive.

  Sitting there for a while, she stroked the young one’s head and tried to block the sounds of Minerva talking and, perhaps a little, ranting to herself on the other half of the mountainside. She’d been polite to Saff’s face, but clearly didn’t understand that dragon’s had better-than-human hearing. She wasn’t sure what an “ice queen” was in the human world, but from Nerv’s tone, she was willing to better that it wasn’t a compliment.

  There was a breeze, and she watched as Rory landed with preternatural grace and talent before her, her violet scales shining in the high California sun. This time, Rory stayed in her natural form, even as she nuzzled gently at the small dragon.

  They’re hatching?

  Saff gestured toward him. “He’s hatched. Others may be ready as well. I recovered Minerva, and I hope to debrief her and any of her captors, find out if she learned anything while in caught. We may also need another dragon here to help with distributing the cure. We’ve gone through most of the shop girl’s list, but I don’t have time to trace my way back to who’s controlling all this and act as a interrogator and detective.”

  Rory lifted her head. We can spare a couple of our number to help with the cure. It doesn’t do any of us any good for the plague to spread and garner attention.

  “Or to kill so many.”

  Rory bowed her head. Yes, we are not cold blooded, at least not in that way.

  “Thank you,” Saff stepped forward and helped settle the young one in the cloth pouch already hooked fast to Rory’s back. Rubbing his head one last time, she also kissed his snout. “Be good, little one.”

  I’ll try. You’ll thank her? Even if she can’t come with me?

  Did I miss something? Rory asked as Saff stepped back. Who is he talking about?

  “Nerv…Minerva. She found him first.”

  And you agree, now, that humans and dragons can’t mix? Rory quirked her head at her. Then frowned at the colorful litany Minerva kept muttering to herself on the other side of the cliff. Was there a fight?

  “No, but I can’t keep letting her get hurt. I can’t be selfish like that. You’re not wrong, old friend.”

  A soft whine escaped the violet dragon’s lips. Perhaps I wanted to be. I know you are happy with your pet…ahem, with your human, but I worry what the loss of a mortal will do to you. I know it would gut me… It did my mother, she added as a reminder.

  That was true. Saff had forgotten that Rory’s parents had taken up with a human once, lived with him in their home. It was not uncommon for dragon couplings to include more than two, but having a human among them was strange. Saff had heard the story even though she and Rory were not yet born at the time. He had passed, as humans do, and his presence had been a hindrance for Rory’s mother and father being awarded an egg to raise.

  “I just don’t want her to suffer anymore,”

  Then don’t let that happen. Rory proclaimed as if it were the easiest thing in the world before unfurling her wings and launching herself into the sky, soaring toward the veil and the world of dragons beyond it.

  To Saff’s world, and her world alone.

  She turned her attention there to Nate, the one she’d dragged along with her. He didn’t snivel before her, to be fair. He glared at her, held his chin high, but he didn’t cower. Humans often did, soiled themselves in her presence.

  “Tell me what you know.”

  “You think I will?”

  “I think you know I could kill you, and that other guards have not survived encounters.” Although she hadn’t been the one burning a pier to ash. “You must tell me what’s going on. You have no idea the danger those eggs are spreading.”

  Cool eyes evaluated hers. “I know enough. The Boss doesn’t want this operation fucked up, and he pays so well that I don’t even know why I bothered with college. I’m rolling in Bentleys and also pussy.”

  Saff shook her head. “Crass.”

  “So what? It’s true. You expect me to put a bullseye on my head? To have the very dangerous men who work for The Boss on my ass and hunting me for what? For truth, justice, and the American way? Yeah, right.”

  The cold mist spread around her and she balled her hands up into fists at her side. “I would not test me.”

  “I know enough to figure you aren’t going to kill me, not with most of your M.O., I’ve been briefed on. Ooh, cold frost. Going to freeze the grass around here?”

  “I still would not test me, human.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re not listening to me, dragon. The Boss will kill me, and he’ll make it hurt. No, you’re not getting dick out of me.”

  Saff swore, long and lividly, old curses to her gods. “Then,” she said, returning to English. “You will walk home.” With that, she made her way back to the other side of the mountain to travel home with Minerva.

  32

  Minerva

  Something was rotten in the City of Angels. That much was certain. Saff had flown them to the edge of the state park in the mountains, close enough for Minerva to find and boost a vehicle for them. There was no way Saff could just fly home to her neighborhood and not be noticed by the other tenants in Minerva’s building. Dream on. In an effort to burn off some nervous energy, Minerva had driven. For a while, she’d tried chattering, talking a little about Chuck or offering what she knew so far about the cell phone in her pocket, the one she intended to hack the second they were back at her place.

  Saff said little.

  Not that Saff was a talker by nature. That would be a complete understatement, but Saff usually offered her thoughts or commentary. Sometimes even ask Minerva questions about the human things she made allusions to. But not now. Her dragon friend stared out at the other cars as the freeway wound into the streets and traffic of downtown Los Angeles. An occasional grunt after showing interest in the phone was the best Minerva could get out of her.

  What the hell is going on?

  She pulled into the driveway and slid out of the car. Saff followed her, shoulder to shoulder, yet still seeming a mile away. The two made it up the stairs and Minerva tossed her jacket onto the bed. Finally, she turned and glared at her Amazon of a partner.

  “What gives?”

  “I do not understand the question.”

  “You, Saff. I mean what gives about you. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to come off as rude ‘cause you have awesome timing showing up just as they were about to kill both me and that kid. But you didn’t say much about how the little guy got off. You didn’t say more than ten words in the car and, of course, the 405 had the worst traffic, and we were driving for close to two hours. Seriously, did I do something?”

  Saff shook
her head, her blonde ponytail flaring out behind her. “I’ve been distracted.”

  “More words of wisdom from that Grand Poohbah?”

  “Who?”

  Minerva belly flopped onto her bed and propped herself off on the monarch butterfly pillow, a stuffed animal she’d picked up on a whim once, but she slept with clutched to her stomach more often than not. “That red guy. Nehe-whoever.”

  “My friend Rory came to take the hatchling home.”

  “Oh, that’s good.” She hesitated then, unsure of how to deal with the chill emanating from Saff, one that had nothing to do with her gifts. “Seriously, something’s wrong.”

  “I should finish healing you now that we’re home.”

  Minerva sat up and slid the phone from her pocket. Saff had taken care of her hands back at the mountain. Gesturing to her swollen lip, Minerva tried to smile. “It’s a war wound. It’s not as bad as killer plague or torn up arm. It’ll be normal in a week or so. I think it gives me street cred.”

  “You shouldn’t keep getting hurt.”

  “Well, once we find this big boss guy and get this shut down, then we won’t have to worry about it.”

  “And then what?” Saff asked. The other woman paced as she spoke, her long legs making quick work of the narrow confines of Minerva’s room. “What happens after?”

  “Do you have to go home after that?”

  Saff kept pacing, kept her eyes focused on the window, like the trapped predator she was eyeing an escape. “I do. I haven’t finished my shaman training with my fathers. For a dragon, I’m really not much older than you are for a human.”

  “You do pretty well with minimal training so far.”

  “I have a bit more than the bare standard,” she corrected. “They sent out quite a few of us, and it was only luck that I was the one I found you. However, when this is over, I go home.”

  “Do I ever see you again?” Minerva felt the air leave her lungs. To say anything further would be suicidal. Since she’d gone on the run, for six long years, she’d lived by one rule—never get too attached. If people didn’t die, they betrayed you, promised to try, and then kicked you out anyway. But Saff wasn’t human. She could be better than that, couldn’t she? “I don’t think we’ll be working another paranormal caper together, but, what? Do I pretend this never happened?”

  Saff stopped and planted her hands on her hips; it was her best superheroine pose. “I think it is best if you did.”

  Minerva’s world spun, and she clutched the cold lump of metal in her hand, gripped that phone like a lifeline just to remind herself this was reality. “What?”

  “You’re not part of my world, Minerva. You’re not made to deal with the danger here.”

  “And your Council hates me?”

  “No, this is about us,” Saff said. Then, she cleared her throat. “I mean, about what’s best for both of us.”

  Minerva stood and chucked the pillow as hard as she could at Saff. Of course, the dragon had more than enough grace to snatch it out of the air before it smacked her in her self-righteous face.

  “You can’t mean that. I… Everyone does this. They leave.”

  “I have to. When this job is done, I leave. It was always going to be this way.”

  “And no visit, no letters? Never even popping in to see me again from the person who can literally fly without dropping down a chunk of change on a plane ticket? You turn my life upside down for three weeks and then you’re gone.” You make me feel like I belong somewhere, finally…

  Saff frowned down at the pillow. “Why butterflies?”

  “What?”

  “Why butterflies? You’re many things, Nerv.”

  “Apparently amusing enough for a few weeks is one of those things too.”

  Saff ignored her barb. “You are not, however, an overly ‘girly’ human. The butterflies are a surprise.”

  “The Mariposas,” she said, the word tripping easily over her tongue. It felt like she hadn’t really spoken Spanish in years either, not more than a quick word here or there. This one, it felt a bit like coming home to say aloud. “They were these four women who stood up against a shitty dictator named Trujillo back in my grandmother’s country. When he started seizing power, her family had a lot of property, they fled with what they could smuggle out before bad shit came for them. But my abuela followed their story, gave what little she could back to their efforts at home, and, God, she was so active with everything.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Human politics and stuff. When she moved here, she was always fighting for the little guy, everything my parents didn’t do. She insisted they name me after one of the Mariposas, like I could change the world too someday.” Minerva stopped and slid back down to the bed, feeling as drained as if she’d run a marathon. “Since she died, this is the first time I felt like I was actually helping anyone. We make a good team. We could do more.”

  “But why aren’t you home? Why would you leave?”

  Minerva crossed her arms over her chest. “No, not now. If we’re over, if we can’t even hang out after this is over, then I don’t want to trade all my stories. You asked about the butterflies. I like them, and I loved my abuela. I’m never ashamed to talk about that.”

  “Are you ashamed about other things?”

  Minerva shook her head. “No, not anymore.”

  And she was almost sure that was true.

  Almost.

  She yanked the phone up from the mattress and started typing a random sequence of numbers into the passcode screen. It was an older Android model, something with a great flaw working against it. Sometimes, if she swiped phones, she had to run to her friend Eddie to crack the password and reset the damn things. When ones that had certain flaws came in, she knew enough tricks to handle it herself. She copy and pasted the sequence over and over, until the screen blanked out and the camera app opened. It also asked for the password. A second time, she copy and pasted the sequence of meaningless numbers until the phone went dark. It reloaded a second time, this time on the regular home screen.

  After that, Minerva scrolled through the obvious places: the email records, the phone numbers, and even the social media. There were emails, but they were routed through accounts with obviously fake names like “John Smith.” Most of the numbers were local, and they could start calling through them or trying to trace those. Then, she hit the planner app.

  Pay dirt.

  “Minerva, we can still talk about this.”

  She shot Saff a frustrated look. “I don’t think we can, but I’m not a jerk. I’m not spiting dragonkind or the whole human race over it. Been scrolling through Nate’s phone. He left it unguarded in the office near the little guy. I can start tracing the numbers, I have a friend I can call for that.” Maybe I need to sweet talk Eddie after all. “But there’s a big event marked up for tomorrow night. Some huge auction. It’s out by Brentwood in one of the mansions. Wanna bet what they’re going to be auctioning?”

  “The eggs.”

  Minerva nodded. “I bet so. Look, give me some time to get new knives. We need to be packing going in there. I’ll also run this by a friend. He can help us figure out any of the numbers we need.”

  Saff nodded. “What should I do?”

  “Can you get a hotel?”

  Saff took a step back as if she’d been slapped. “Why?”

  “Because it’s too hard to have you around, because this isn’t an even partnership and maybe it never was.” Minerva forced her voice to stay level. “If you stay, you’ll want to ask more about me, try and make it all up to me, but you’re leaving and that’s all I need to know.”

  The other woman sighed and approached the bed. Holding her hand out, she reached toward Minerva’s face. “If we’re going to this auction, it will be another fancy affair. I acquire the outfits we will need.”

  “Good idea.” Nerv tried to duck from Saff’s hand. The last thing she wanted was for Saff to touch her, not when she’d be gone s
oon.

  “No, wait,” she said.

  Then she traced her fingers over Minerva’s lower lip. Minerva swallowed hard and tried to pull away, but it was as if she’d been hypnotized in place, and she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the magic Saff had access to and everything to do with the effect the other woman had on her. Naturally.

  Well, more or less.

  “You can’t go to something like that injured. Proud war wound or not, it will blow our cover.” Saff voice was softer now, almost as if it were just a hint carried on the breeze. “Close your eyes.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You won’t heal by tomorrow. Minerva, please.”

  That was a small word, one that meant nothing. Minerva wanted to throw it back in Saff’s face a dozen times, a hundred. Anything not to be kicked out of her friend’s inner circle. But it didn’t work that way. It was only a word, after all.

  “Fine, but only because we need to get any edge we can.”

  She closed her eyes and the calm swept over her, the mesmerizing effect of Saff’s power. The warmth came next, sweeping over her skin, prickling through to every corner of her muscles and bones. The sensation was layered as before, of care and strength, of safety, but none of that mattered.

  It was an illusion.

  Nothing more.

  And Minerva should have expected it. She’d let herself go soft, but she never would again. Minerva pulled back first and licked her lips. They were no longer tarnished by the gross taste of copper. Reaching up, she ran her fingers over the swollen mass of her lip only to find it as smooth as ever.

  “Thank you, Saff.”

  Hope seemed to brim in her friend’s icy blue eyes. “Then I can stay the night?”