Sirens and Scales

by Kellie McAllen

  Her blank stare gave her the countenance of a marble statue, but he didn’t miss her swallow as he spoke her truth out to her. Elena had been given opportunities that others would kill to have, and she’d wasted all of them.

  His jaw clenched, wishing he could slap some kind of decent response from her.

  “He was fully in his rights to get his revenge, one way or another. Nobody would have batted an eye if he’d let hate rule his life. If he’d wanted to take back at least a measure of satisfaction, he could have gone on and destroyed the lives of his enemies.” He paused, letting that sink in. “And you know what he did?”

  She blinked then, flicked her eye in his direction, before peeling any expression away from her face once more.

  “I’ll tell you what he did. He studied hard, this angry young man, and he channeled his energy into sports. He taught many other angry young men to put their emotions in their bodies, to let the anger work for them, rather than the other way round. And then, he started running a manufacturing company, working for me, helping my people—from the land of his enemies—claw a way out of poverty. He forgot about revenge, and realized he could make something better out of the world with his own actions. Rather than take, he gave. Rather than destroy, he created. Rather than denying his heart, he nurtured it. He’s seen the darkness, he conquered it, and then he changed it.”

  Cocking his head to the side, he asked, “This man I’m talking about, an everyday human, is what you’d call a role model. Do you see the difference between you, your actions, and my man Yakob, Elena Ivanovich Sokolova? Can you see where you took the wrong path and he didn’t?”

  A muscle twitched in her jaw, but again, she said nothing. He took a step back.

  “Elena Ivanovich Sokolova, once more, how do you plead?”

  She pursed her lips, her jaw visibly tensing. Hatred poured from her being, and he could it see then—this woman was beyond redemption.

  “You should be dead, you bastard. You should all be dead! All of you!”

  With the fury sparking from her eyes and the shrillness of her tone, she could not possibly be sane. Whatever shred of sanity she’d had left, she’d completely lost it now.

  “Very well, then.”

  Calmly turning around, he started to make his way back to Kseniya. And then, a scream rent the room, and a flash of freezing cold went past him to his left, hitting his system, paralyzing him for a moment. Shifting his body instinctively to get away from the danger, he flinched when Kseniya stepped forward, arms braced in front of her, her hands forming a ball of ice that was absorbing the light blue ice energy being directed at them.

  As the soldiers grabbed Elena to restrain her, the attacking force dwindled. Kseniya let the ball in her hand fall to the floor, where it ruptured into shards that melted against the marble, the water turning to slithering snakes that she then blasted with her ice breath.

  It had all happened so fast, none of them had reacted except for the same soldiers who had been sent with her to retrieve Elena. Had it not been for her swift combat competence, he would be dead, or at least seriously wounded, right then.

  “Fuck you, bitch!” Elena kept fighting, trying to launch herself toward Kseniya, a thirst for blood written all over her face.

  Oh, no, she wouldn’t get away with this. Not again.

  Channeling his dragon, Djibril roared, an unholy sound that had the entire hall go still. Tendrils of electricity buzzed inside him, bringing up the heat a couple of thousand notches until he felt himself burn all over. Damian—the man’s lingering powers hadn’t completely left him, and maybe never would. Pointing his arm right at Elena, he shot a rope of fire that circled her middle at least a dozen times around, trapping her arms to her sides. They should have restrained her this way from the second she’d been taken in, but they hadn’t wanted Kseniya to hurt even more, affording her and her family the courtesy of not being overly tyrannical with their kin.

  She screamed in pain. A Chromatic ice dragon—hell, Chromatic, Metallic, any ice dragon—did not adjust well to such restraints born of fire. The heat would eat at her very soul, and if she was subjected to it long enough, it would cause permanent damage to her system.

  All the more reason why his and Kseniya’s bond was the stuff of fairytales. These things just didn’t happen in their world, unless two dragons were meant to be forever mates. Her grandmother and the Fire King had been married, yes, but they hadn’t mated as dragons—everyone knew that. Through generations of their kind, such unions had happened only in the colorful legends and lore passed on from mothers to their sons and daughters. Never in real life.

  Until now. Until them.

  “Elena Ivanovich Sokolova, you are found guilty of the crime of high treason. Take her away and put her in isolation,” he ordered the soldiers. “Make sure she has no visitors. We shall issue a formal sentencing in the morning.”

  As she was being led away, Kseniya’s grandmother, Irina Mikhailovich Sokolova, stepped to the woman.

  “You were treated as family, because of who you are, where you came from,” she told her in a shaky voice. “You have always been one of us, but the apple must have fallen far from the tree in your case … Goodbye, Hélène. You shall never see any of us again.”

  The older woman turned her back then, flashing a gaze at Kseniya, and then walked into the arms of her husband. A great sadness cast its shadow on her face, and if he wasn’t mistaken, he could see a lone tear wind its way down her cheek.

  The woman had spoken, publicly cutting ties with Elena. Not exactly a blessing to their union just yet, but definitely a step in the right direction.

  He started to make his way to Kseniya again, only to find she’d left her place to go to her family. She stood behind her grandmother, head bowed, bravely waiting, risking a public rebuff—just like the woman had done with Elena. Her mother, sisters, and little brother surrounded her like a gaggle of geese, pulling at her clothing, playing with her hair and snuggling to her, asking her a million questions. At last, after what felt like a million seconds even to him, the matriarch Irina deigned her with a glance and the ghost of a smile.

  “Go, Kseniya. You’re busy now. You and your siblings can talk later, and so shall we.”

  Looking beyond Kseniya, she nodded at him.

  And that was it, their blessing. Not quite eloquent, but clear enough.

  Kseniya seemed to tremble with relief upon those words. With a nod, she then walked to him, taking his outstretched hand. Together, they went to stand with his parents to face their people.

  “Next week, we shall have a big celebration in our gardens and you’re all invited,” King Anton announced. “Bring your spouses, your children and grandchildren, and let this be a day of togetherness for our people. For nothing shall tear us apart. No rivalries, no wars, no hatred. We are the people of Ognennyy Ostrov! We are one!”

  A loud cheer rose from the crowd to drown them in a deafening ruckus. The show was over. With all the excitement gone, the hall soon emptied of its visitors.

  “Father, Kiki and I will join you soon.” Their parents and entourage took that as invitation to give them space.

  King Anton nodded. “Konstantin Feodorovich is on his way. Be here again in five hours for the private ceremony.”

  They nodded their assent, and finally, they were alone.

  “Private ceremony? Kseniya asked, eyebrows raised as she turned to him.

  He held on to her hand, preventing her from breaking the contact. This shit had gone on for too long. “Hang on, before we speak of that. You can tell me now. What’s wrong?”

  She blinked. “Nothing. I—”

  “Please, no more lies. If we want this to work—no more lies.”

  And he meant it. From now on, everything would be laid out on the table, nothing hidden between them.

  “That’s what got us here, Gabe,” she whispered, eyes downcast.

  “Yes, but we are here right now,” he countered. “Kiki, look at me.”
r />   She peered up at him, eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “I thought you were angry with me.”

  “I was.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

  “I didn’t, for a bit.”

  “I thought … I thought it was over. Because of Corpus and what I had hidden from you.”

  He shook his head. Women. “So you think I’d just tell you I love you because I like the sound of it? After you saved my hide and kicked major ass? After you proved me wrong about everything? You’re un-fucking-believable, Kseniya Dmitriievich Sokolova.”

  “Love me? What?” She looked puzzled.

  “On our way to Shadow Bridge, when they shot me from the plane,” he said. “I told you I loved you.”

  Still puzzled.

  “Before I passed out.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “I heard a mumble, but you were so weak, I couldn’t understand …”

  Raising a hand to her face, he cradled her cheek and caressed her cool skin with his thumb.

  She leaned her head into his touch, eyes closed, relishing it. “I thought …”

  A chuckle escaped him. “You thought everything but the truth. So, let’s make things clear, shall we?”

  “Hmmm.”

  He pulled her to him, an arm around her waist, hand settling at the small of her back. As her body pressed to his, his dragon energy came to life, responding to her touch.

  “We mated.”

  “Yes, we did.” She snaked her hands around his neck.

  “I saved your life.”

  “You did,” she said with a smile. “Thanks.”

  “You saved my life.”

  “Yep.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He swallowed, those sweet words pouring like balm all over him.

  “So, that settles it. Will you be my princess then, my future Queen?”

  “Don’t you think you should have asked me first, before making that announcement to the entire world?”

  “Not the world, just those people.”

  “And you think word won’t spread faster than a dragon on crack?”

  “Well…”

  “Well, yes, it will. The tabloids are going to have fun with this. Your groupies will be so devastated.”

  “Yeah, yeah. But will you be my consort?”

  “Such formality.”

  “Get used to it. We have enough protocol to make the Queen of England sick.”

  Her phone started vibrating against his thigh then, and she broke away to throw it a glance. Her face appeared pensive, a cloud falling over her features. He didn’t like that.

  As she disengaged from his embrace, she reached for the phone and answered.

  “Kali,” she said.

  “I’m not one to beat around the bush,” the woman replied at the other end. Kseniya didn’t need to put the call on speakerphone for him to hear it all thanks to his keen dragon senses. “I have a job for you, should you be willing to accept it.”

  Kseniya blinked, then raised a glance at him. “A job? I thought I was burned.”

  “From Corpus, yes. From Angelos, no. You’re coming to work for me. It will look like a humanitarian job in Rwanda, but I will be needing your eyes, ears, and sometimes hands on the ground.”

  Kseniya remained silent, but she didn’t need to say anything to him. Her ice energy had surged inside him as soon as she’d heard the job offer. She wanted this.

  And she was good at it, too.

  “Say yes,” he told her through their bond.

  Wide blue eyes met his, and he nodded.

  In a blink, he saw secret agent Kiki take over the woman standing in front of him.

  “When do you need me?” she asked in a calm and competent voice.

  “I’ll send the deets over the secure network. You fly out in two days.”

  As she cut the call, she turned to him. “Gabe—”

  “Don’t say a word. You’re going.”

  She shook her head at him. “You don’t even know what this entails.”

  “She said a humanitarian mission.” He’d heard of Angelos, the aid organization that helped worldwide but primarily in Africa. Though now that he thought of it, he hadn’t factored in that assassin-chick Kali seemed to be at the head of it. “Hell, who knew …”

  Kseniya bit her lip. “It’s a front, yes.”

  Unbidden, his thoughts went back to when he’d thought Kiki an assassin. That had been so hot … “As long as you are here with me when we give up on our human lives and retreat back home.”

  She gave him a tremulous smile. “You’ll let me do this?”

  He pulled her in his arms again. “On one condition. Be mine.”

  She remained silent for long seconds, then giggled as if she’d been letting him stew on purpose. “Fine, uh, I guess I will, then. Be your princess … consort … whatever. Hard to turn back now without having you fall flat on your face with embarrassment. But you’re still an arrogant asshole. You’re doing better, but miles to go, still.”

  He tightened his hold around her. “Hmmm. I believe so.”

  “You believe you’re an asshole, or that it’s hard to turn back?”

  He thought about that long and hard, making a big deal of squinting his eyes in concentration. She swatted him.

  “Oh, quit that. I’ll want a say in where we live, and I’ll be involved in the day to day business of … of ...” She waved her hand, trying to summon a word.

  “Being a princess. Ruling a nation. You drive a hard bargain, but of course. I’ve decided your experience with Corpus will come in handy. We must discuss.”

  “What now?”

  “We have to go sit on those special chairs again. Father will release us from our mission first, but will use the dragonfire to give his blessing to our bond and create a new contract between us. That’s the most important part of our union, Kiki. We’d be actually married, but we’ll have another ceremony to appease the humans in a few months.”

  “I see. So that’s what the king meant.”

  “Exactly. Second thoughts, my love?” He searched her face, looking for any sign of doubts. “I think once we go ahead, there’s no turning back. This is what I want. Is it what you want?”

  Moisture brimmed in her eyes, turning them into limpid pools. “Yes. This is what I want.”

  He smiled. “Marek’s on his way, as Father said. He needs to be present for the part of the ceremony related to our mission, at least, to be witness to the fact we did what we had to do. We just had to deal with Elena first.”

  “So much to get used to and learn.”

  She sighed, leaning her head briefly on his chest. She smelled of roses and the sea in winter, of uncontainable joy and beautiful promises. She smelled of the future and all the good things to come.

  He wiped a tear that escaped down her cheek. Love felt better than real coffee, winning a tennis match, and the freedom of a hot day sparring with Keith on the soil of his mother’s land. Love felt like the kiss of the sun and the moon fused together.

  “Loads. Also, we need to teach you about proper behavior and, erm, proper attire. No guns, first and foremost. And backless, skimpy gowns are encouraged but in private, where only I can see.”

  Sparks flew from her eyes. The nerve of him, right?

  “What the—”

  “Not now. Later.”

  And with that, he kissed her senseless. Fire and ice embraced for their lifelong dance, telling a tale for the ages as their mouths sealed the deal.

  For as long as he could, he held on to his mate, joined as one, breathless, until he could barely remember his name.

  Epilogue

  Seen on the front page of Viewstand, a British tabloid, a few weeks later:

  Game, Set, Match … & Marriage?

  How could anyone have missed that huge rock on Kiki’s finger?

  Russian tennis champion Djibril Vasiliev soared ahead to win the final of the
French Open this year, beating current world No.1 Marco Suarez in three straight sets 7-5, 6-4, 7-5. But more than this first time win at Roland Garros for the No. 3 ranked player, it is what happened after the game that has left everyone with their mouths gaping open!

  Indeed, soon after his win and the fair play handshake with his opponent and the referee, Vasiliev rushed away to his player box to greet his team and the close ones who had come to support him. Imagine the shock when world-famous supermodel Kiki Sokolova rose up and let herself be engulfed in Vasiliev’s embrace, before he kissed her in a PDA that would make even the City of Love blush! Yes, the picture doesn’t lie! Kiki had reached up to hold his neck, and the light gleamed off the enormous diamond ring on her left hand. Kiki and Vasiliev? Who had known? Who even would’ve thought?

  It is true that, after the fact, the clues had been there. Eyebrows had risen when CEO and owner of tech giant Dynamogenics, Alexis Friedrich, took her place in the player’s box, Kiki by her side. It came to light that Friedrich is the new partner of Sportology, Inc., Vasiliev’s sport wear brand and philanthropy medium. Kiki being the brand ambassador for Dynamogenics, no one batted an eye at her presence. Until that fateful moment, she had cleverly concealed her left hand from view, preventing even a glimpse of what can only be termed an engagement ring.

  Seeing these two so chummy brings to mind many questions. Kiki beamed, a bright smile paired with tears coursing down her cheeks while Vasiliev accepted his win and took on La Coupe des Mousquetaires which is awarded to male singles’ champions at the French Open. In his winner’s speech, he thanked her for ‘making me the whole man I have become’. So, we wonder, where did they meet? How long has this been going on? Kiki was recently seen having dinner and then sliding into a limo with Hollywood heartthrob Evan Blackwood, while Vasiliev had been caught on camera snogging the ex-wife of his downed Roland Garros opponent, Suarez.

  From what we have seen, it leaves no doubts that wedding bells will be chiming soon. Stay on the lookout as we bring you more news and more answers regarding this—we have to admit—gorgeous pairing, a match made in Heaven. We can only imagine what beautiful babies they will end up making.