Sirens and Scales

by Kellie McAllen

  The third man came running from the back, winded and talking fast.

  “The fucker tripped the silent alarm. We gotta go. Now!”

  “What about the safe deposit boxes?”

  “In here.” He jiggled a black bookbag at the tall robber, who hadn’t moved from his spot in front of the tellers. “Let’s go before the cops arrive.”

  “Gotta finish this.”

  Armstrong didn’t like the sound of that. The male teller had been right. Why couldn’t these assholes just take the money and leave?

  He couldn’t tell where the guard had been shot and he heard nothing from the vic in the back. If he had to guess, the bank manager was dead.

  “There are too many witnesses. We can take care of them before the cops get here. No witnesses mean no one left alive to talk.”

  Even if he had his weapon, no way would Armstrong be able to take down three armed men before he got himself shot and killed.

  “No, please,” the mother behind him pleaded. “We don’t know anything. We didn’t see your faces. Please. Please.”

  All around him strangers cried and begged for their lives.

  A third pop rang out, and Armstrong closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He knew who’d been shot and by whom. He may not have liked the condescending teller, but the man didn’t deserve to die.

  “We’re even. One apiece. Now let’s deal with the rest of them.”

  The sound of guns being reloaded competed against the wild pounding of his heart and the rush of adrenalin.

  Fight or flight.

  Armstrong would fight.

  He stood, and the three men turned to face him. Backs to the glass doors, the murdering bastards laughed when they saw him.

  Armstrong planted his six-one, two-hundred-pound body of muscle between the mother and her child. None of them would survive this. But he wouldn’t die on his stomach like a coward. His father had fought when his cancer had come out of remission. He hadn’t gone down quietly and neither would Armstrong.

  “Women and a child. It’s just us men and these women and a scared kid.” He raised his hands, letting them see he held no weapon. “Come on. No one else has to die today. You hold all the cards here. Got all the power.” He spoke to the tall man, who still looked ridiculous in his stocking. If any of the three were in charge, it was him.

  “Playing hero?”

  He chuckled. “I’m no hero. I’m just a guy who wanted a burger and fries and didn’t have a dollar to his name, so I stopped in here to cash my check.” Armstrong pointed over his shoulder to the whimpering mother and son. “He’s just a boy. If nothing else, let the kid go.”

  The lookout, a stout guy with dark-brown hair and a mangy beard, tugged on the tall man’s sleeve. “Cops are coming. Leave it. We need to go.”

  The tall man couldn’t leave it. He’d had plenty of opportunities to take the loot and flee the crime scene. His problem, which was also Armstrong’s problem, was that the man was more killer than bank robber.

  He saw it now. Nothing he could say would talk the man down. His bluish-green eyes sparked with murderous intent.

  The man raised his shotgun. Pointed it at Armstrong.

  “This is what happens when you try to play hero.”

  For the rest of his days, Armstrong would remember what happened next because it shocked the hell out of him one minute and had him falling in love the next.

  Get down, diata.

  He ducked.

  A metallic gold dragon’s tail crashed through the glass doors, swiped in a short arc and lopped off three heads in a grisly smooth motion. Blood sprayed, heads flew, and bodies thumped to the floor.

  “How is it you manage to find trouble wherever you go? Six months and I find you in yet another fight.”

  “In fairness, my actions both times were in defense of someone else.”

  Armstrong pushed to his feet and helped up the woman and her little boy.

  “Are the police out there with you?”

  He could hear sirens.

  “They will be soon. I will take my leave.”

  Armstrong led the woman around the dead men and blood. She held her son in her arms, his legs wrapped around her waist and her hand pressing his head to her shoulder, whispering for him to keep his eyes closed.

  The child didn’t need to see the gruesome sight of three decapitated bodies. It was bad enough he’d have this awful memory that would likely replay in his nightmares.

  It could’ve been worse, for them all. Armstrong was thankful Kya had the worst and best sense of timing. The dragon was a full day early for their date, but she was right on time to save his life and the life of everyone else in the bank.

  My hero. I think I’m in love.

  For six months, they’d done nothing but talk and get to know each other through their telepathic link. Most days he’d forget it was a dragon on the other end of the conversation. Armstrong had even created a human image of Kya in his mind, which made him feel less creepy for the feelings he was developing. But the fake human Kya in his mind didn’t change the reality of their unorthodox relationship.

  Exiting the building, the street flooding with DCPD, Armstrong could just make out Kya’s gold dragon form in the chilly November sky. A dragon. He’d needed to see her to remind himself of what she truly was. If he ever forgot again, he had to only remember her reptilian tail severing the heads of the bank robbers. One clean slice. That was all it had taken.

  She’d told him about the strength of her scales. When he’d felt how soft they were, Armstrong thought the dragon had exaggerated. He now knew differently.

  “Tomorrow at midnight, Kya. Be on time.”

  “I’m the Bloodstone Dragon. I go where I please when I please.”

  Armstrong handed over the mother and child to one of the officers before digging in his coat pocket and pulling out his wallet and Secret Service special agent badge.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but your father grounded you for more than six months. Literally.”

  “Admit you missed me, and I may forget the insult to my Dracontias pride.”

  He had missed her, which said a lot about his lack of a social life.

  “Special Agent Knight,” one of the officers said, “I need to take your statement.”

  Armstrong’s eyes were still on the sky, although he could no longer see Kya.

  “Of course. I’m coming.”

  The woman nodded and walked a few feet away and to another officer. Red-and-blue lights added light to the overcast day, but nothing could brighten the ugliness of the last half hour. The ordeal showed on the dazed face of each customer and employee who emerged from the bank.

  “I’m glad you’re back. And you know I missed you. Did you miss me?”

  By the time Kya answered him, Armstrong had given his statement, checked on the mother and her son, and then gone home. He’d missed lunch and was late for work. He had a good excuse and one hell of a story to tell.

  “What was there to miss, diata? Your blinding flashlight? Your purple drink? Your mockery and tiny inquisitive fingers?”

  He laughed, and two agents, stationed at the White House gate with him, stared at Armstrong as if he were drunk.

  “I’ll take that to mean that you missed me.”

  “I didn’t miss you, Armstrong Knight.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “No, I did not.”

  He waited. Twenty minutes later, his patience paid off.

  “Fine. I missed you.”

  Armstrong grinned like a fool in love and couldn’t care less about the looks the other agents shot him. Or the utter absurdity of nursing tender feelings for a dragon incapable of meeting his human needs.

  Friendship was all that could ever exist between Armstrong and Kya. His mind knew that. But he was having a hard time convincing his heart.

  5

  She should fly home. The past two years, Kya had spent much time in the land of humans. Specifically, she’d spent t
oo much time in Washington, DC and with Armstrong Knight. So much time, in fact, her father had assigned her the North American region. Ledisi no longer flew with her to the United States, although they often met on the return flight home. Her sister, now that Kya had taken over the responsibility of North America, could resume her duties in South America.

  Whether humans knew it or not, the Dracontias had divided up their lands into regions. The Aragonite Star Dragon assigned one or two dragons to each area. They cared for the humans with their healing magic when they could. They were neither beholden to the humans nor viewed their acts of kindness as a responsibility that dictated their lives.

  Kya’s second oldest sister, Jahzara, and her mate were the dragons assigned to North America. The large landmass had been their domain for over two centuries. With Jahzara’s first hatchling on the way and a thirteen-month gestation period, the mated pair chose to relinquish the territory.

  Now North America belonged to the Bloodstone Dragon. One dragon instead of two. Her father’s faith in her humbled as much as it overwhelmed. What if she failed? What if she, the smallest and youngest of the Dracontias, couldn’t live up to everyone’s expectations?

  The depressing thought had Kya changing direction and flying a path she knew all too well. Within minutes, the dragon hovered outside Armstrong’s bedroom window. She knew his daily routine as well as she did the scent of the human and his various emotions. That’s how, over a year ago, she’d managed to track him once entering the continental United States. His normal spice scent was mixed with fear and anger.

  The foul combination had the Bloodstone Dragon speeding through the sky. While much may have angered Armstrong, particularly injustice, little frightened the male. When she’d landed in front of the building where his scent was the strongest, she’d heard and saw enough to know the dangerous humans from the innocent ones.

  In hindsight, killing the three men may not have been strictly necessary. There were other options at her disposal. She hadn’t liked the callous way they’d threatened Armstrong’s life, even as he pleaded for the freedom of a child. Kya had never taken a life beyond that of sustenance. But this, the killing of humans, had nothing to do with sustenance or survival. As she watched Armstrong sleep, she understood that it had been her own fear and anger that had prompted her to take the men’s lives. A human shouldn’t have such an effect on a Dracontias. Yet…

  “How long do you plan on watching me sleep?”

  “I did not wish to disturb your rest. I’m on my way home.”

  “Yet you’re outside my window.” Dark-brown eyes opened, and they stared through the open blinds and straight at Kya. “I felt you when you arrived. What’s the matter?”

  “I’m fine. I shouldn’t have come.”

  Despite her words and common sense, she didn’t fly away as she ought. Instead, she flew closer when Armstrong threw off his covers, got out of bed, and opened the window.

  “There’s my favorite dragon.”

  I’m the only dragon you know.

  “You’re still my favorite. Are you safe to touch?”

  I am.

  Kya stretched forward so he wouldn’t have to lean too far out the window. Her head was too big to fit through the opening and Armstrong’s arm too short to reach far. But they managed.

  She said nothing as he stroked her face and neither did Armstrong. Kya relished the feel of his hand too much to ruin the moment with words better left unsaid. One of these days they would have to take partners, he a human wife and Kya a dragon mate.

  Refusing to think of the future, Kya shifted as near to Armstrong as she could.

  “How long will you be in Buto?”

  I don’t know. Jahzara’s baby dragon has hatched.

  “You’re no longer the youngest dragon. Does that make you feel all grown up now, Auntie Kya?”

  At three in the morning, you’re not at all humorous.

  “Guarding the president and the White House is serious enough. When I’m with you, I can relax and be myself. You don’t care about trivialities, and you speak your mind, which is refreshing.” The hand on her nose moved to her sharp fangs. “We’re a strange pair.”

  We are indeed. Careful, diata, you don’t want to lose a finger. Those aren’t toys, and I cannot alter them the way I can my scales.

  “Will you let me fly with you tonight? Tomorrow’s my day off so I can stay up all night and be with you.”

  He’d asked her about flying together twice before. She’d scoffed at the suggestion the first time, thinking the request one of Armstrong’s many jokes. The second time he’d asked, he’d done so with much sincerity that he’d left Kya speechless.

  Now, as his finger slid dangerously close to the tip of a fang, Kya questioned, once again, the power she allowed this human to have over her. His question, impolite and presumptuous, should’ve irritated her. No one rode atop a Dracontias, except a hatchling as young as Jahzara’s little one. Dragons did not have riders. They weren’t horses or camels. Her kind didn’t ferry humans about, a tether around their necks for the dragon rider to control their tamed beast.

  Armstrong’s question was an insult to the Bloodstone Dragon. Yet to Kya, the human’s friend, she saw the request for what it was, another way for them to connect and breakdown the barriers that separated the human Armstrong from the dragon Kya.

  You don’t know what you ask of me. Riding a dragon is simply not done.

  “I know.” Armstrong smartly removed his hand from her fang. “I just hoped that would be something we could share.” His shrug didn’t convince Kya of his nonchalance. “I trust you won’t let me fall.”

  I very well may permit you to fall to your death.

  “Is that a yes?”

  It’s a warning. You cannot live your life in both worlds. And neither can I.

  “What does that mean?”

  It means we have a friendship that shouldn’t exist between our species. It means our desires are unnatural. It also means when our friendship draws to its inevitable end, the pain and loss will be greater than either of us can now anticipate.

  “Well, aren’t you a ray of dragon sunshine. Based on that doom and gloom future, we should end things right now. Is that what you want? For us to no longer be friends?”

  You’re frustratingly dramatic, Armstrong. I’m here because that’s my choice.

  “And I want you here, which is my choice. One day at a time. Don’t ruin what we have today with negative possibilities of tomorrow.”

  Armstrong thought her young and naïve. Did he not see the same in himself?

  Dress warmly, diata, and meet me on the rooftop.

  Kya waited for Armstrong to close his window before she flew toward the building’s roof. Ten minutes later, the door to the roof banged open. On the other side was a grinning Armstrong dressed in boots, pants, coat, gloves, and hat.

  Winter was slowly giving way to spring. While DC nights were no longer frigid, the altitude Kya intended to fly was high enough to create a chill in a human.

  “Now what?” Armstrong jogged toward her. “How do we do this?”

  She crouched as low as possible. Begin at my tail. It’s the lowest point. Once on, climb until your chin is near the back of my head. Your arms are too short to wrap around my neck, and I refuse to use any sort of harness or tether.

  “I value my life too much to throw a rope around your neck. May I get on now?”

  You may. And do be careful where you place your feet, knees, and elbows.

  “Got you.”

  The man must’ve climbed trees as a child because the skill and speed at which he ascended her body was impressive.

  “I knew you’d grown since the first time we talked on this roof, but I didn’t realize how much.”

  I still have years before I’m at full physical maturity. I did have what you humans call a growth spurt. Are you comfortable back there?

  “I don’t know where to put my hands.”

  He squirmed. The
weight of his body negligible.

  Having second thoughts?

  “No. But I will admit that the idea of riding you was less frightening in my head. Now that I’m up here, so high above everything, it’s thrilling and scary.”

  If you’re able to sit upright, I’ll use my magic to secure your legs and hands. As long as you’re in contact with my scales and magic, you will maintain your seat.

  With a little more effort than had taken him to climb her, Armstrong was soon upright, his bottom on her neck and his palms on the top of her head.

  Kya pushed Bloodstone magic through her scales. It rose, slithering bands of red magic that coiled around wrists, hips, and thighs. The bands of magic, to Armstrong, would look like crimson vines growing from her body.

  This was as close as a human could get to a dragon and still live. He was, quite literally, bound to Kya. She felt that truth on a level deeper than the physical.

  Too tight?

  “No. I feel secure, but I can also move a bit.”

  Satisfied Armstrong was as safe as she could make him atop her, Kya took to the air. She heard his sharp intake of breath and then a ragged release.

  “This is the most exhilarating and idiotic thing I’ve ever done. And I love it. This is amazing.”

  Kya kept her pace leisurely and her height relatively low. Flying too high or fast could kill Armstrong.

  They flew over the Potomac River, Washington Channel, and the Tidal Basin. Kya flew as low as she dared, wanting Armstrong to experience the home of his birth from a different vantage point. Kya didn’t know the names of all the buildings, but she’d spent enough time flying over the city to know where large numbers of visitors congregated.

  The Lincoln Memorial. The National Mall. The Washington Monument.

  “DC is beautiful at night and up here.”

  Capitol Riverfront. Georgetown. Adams Morgan. Chinatown.

  Armstrong listed off the places he wanted to see from the sky. For hours, they flew, connected even when neither spoke.

  Shaw. Anacostia.

  By the time Kya returned to Armstrong’s rooftop, the human was asleep. She uncoiled her magic and he didn’t stir, not even when she called his name.