by Tamsin Baker
She was stunning in her evening finery, but this was something else entirely.
Madame Toulouse was something more than a courtesan. If she even was a courtesan. The feral, brilliant creature in front of him suggested otherwise. His dragon rumbled in delight, scenting from across the room the pulse of her adrenaline and effort. Her joy in using her body this way.
Clearly the man behind the bar wanted the woman’s help, but he didn’t want to let Logan know that. But Logan needed to know who she was. Desired it. The man called over another boy who was sweeping the floor. Murmured in his ear.
“Bring him out the back,” the man said.
He saw the boy make his way toward his mystery woman and knew he’d surmised correctly. Logan followed the man through to a darkened changing room, and put him down on the massage table.
“Thank you. We’ll take it from here. Mr…?”
“You can call me Logan.”
“Thank you, Logan. I appreciate your…discretion.”
The man pulled out several notes from his pocket.
Logan held up a hand.
“Not needed. Is there something I can do? Call a healer?”
“That’s okay. We can help the young man.”
When he came back out into the gym, the woman was nowhere to be seen. He walked out to find his boys had finally managed to get the car down the correct alleyway.
“Hang five, gents, my business here is not yet done.”
Jyll and Alessio looked longingly at the den behind him but nodded all the same. Logan was going to have a drink in Q Den’s bar while he waited to see the woman again. She had some questions to answer. He took a moment in the laneway to inspect the imprint he had felt the boy’s back burn into his skin. He’d crossed his arms over his chest to cover the marks on his shirt, but sure enough, underneath was the shadow of… wings.
Gold and scarlet, the mark of the Phoenix.
Is this why kids had been turning up all over town dead? No wonder the Tigers were in a state if that were the case. The only good Phoenix in their eyes, was a dead one.
Logan had assumed that most of the Phoenix were long gone by now. Long ago, his people, the Dragons, had been allied to the Phoenix. Before the war that shattered not only that partnership, but the whole order of things.
He took stock of the last few day’s events. Women who wore one skin but promised something else entirely. Phoenix burning up in downtown. This week was getting interesting, and it was just beginning.
Chapter 22
After what she’d just witnessed, Hana needed air.
Quan nodded to her from beside Rex’s bed. Deep in the cavern below the gym, they kept a secret room where they could tend to the Phoenix’s deadly curse, as they’d done tonight. Quan’s nod meant he’d take the first watch. It had been close, but they’d managed to cool the boy’s body temperature with ice baths and IV fluids. They hadn’t dared to call in their usual Clan healers. There was no pretending this sickness was other than what it was.
Hana’s eyes burned with the memory of what they’d discovered on the unconscious boy’s back. Peeling the steaming clothes from his skin to discover a brand on his back, about the size of Hana’s palm.
Glittering gold and scarlet gilded the wings of the phoenix that was trying to burst free from the boy’s skin. As they’d worked to cool him, the brand faded, piece by piece, tearing out Hana’s heart as it vanished. All the hiding, the erasing of her people’s history, made her gut churn. So when Quan nodded, she went to get some air.
She wasn’t just letting Quan take the first shift, she was fleeing the room.
She went back the way she’d come, up the stairs to the secret laneway entrance in the back of the club that she’d entered by—because Logan Katana, of all people—had brought the boy in. She didn’t know what to make of that. Had he somehow traced Hana back here?
She’d seen Quan look for her, seen that he didn’t want to call her name across the room and alert the elite-level Dragon to her presence. Quan might not have known his name, but he knew Dragon royalty when he saw it. Knew it by the man’s presence, the finely tailored suit pants, the cut of his black shirt, ruffled and stained as it was by his interaction with Rex.
She rounded the corner of the alley, scrubbing her hands down her face, before a glint of silver and turquoise in the lantern light had her drop into a crouch, ready to defend herself.
“So, we meet again, Lady Toulouse,” the Dragon said, a muscle in his jaw feathering. “Or do you go by another name when you’re kicking ass in downtown fight dens?”
She sighed.
“What do you want, Katana?”
“You went to a lot of trouble not so long ago to gain entrance to my club. To warn me of some danger to my person. So, warn away.”
She rolled her eyes, straightening up, but her muscles remained tense, taut. At that moment she would have gladly let off some steam by taking him on, the predatory glint in his eyes and strong, powerful shoulders be damned. The way he watched her, as though she were some mysterious puzzle that intrigued him had her fingers curling into fists, itching to smack that expression of his ruggedly handsome face.
“I’m fairly certain you can take care of yourself. What do you know about the boy?”
Was that why he was still here? What had he seen glowing under the boy’s boxing robe? But if Katana had wanted to report her, to call Justice in, he could have done that already. What kind of game was he playing?
“Only that he was in need of help I could not provide.”
“Why would someone like you help someone like him? Did you know I would be here?”
She regretted the words that rushed from her lips as soon as they were out. A regret that intensified as a growl emanated from his lips. He was enjoying this, the bastard.
“Which part of that question would you like me to answer first? Or shall we make a deal? Two answers from me, for two from you?”
“Keep dreaming,” she muttered, kicking at a loose cobblestone that danced with shards of rainbow cast in the light of the lanterns criss-crossing the top of the laneway.
“I am a generous man.” His mouth curved wickedly. “So, I will answer your questions in good faith. I helped the boy because he reminded me of someone. And because despite whatever you believe about Dragons, some of us do strive to be decent members of society.” He scrubbed a hand over the stubble lining his jaw.
“And no, I didn’t know I would find you here, but I admit it’s a pleasant diversion.”
She scowled, pushing past him to get back into the gym. He caught her arm, his grip warm and firm.
“How is the boy?”
She supposed whatever his motivations were—and he’d probably just fed her some pretty lines, silver-tongued reptile that he was— he couldn’t be all bad because he had saved the boy’s life by bringing him here.
“He’ll live,” she murmured.
He inclined his head, something remarkably like relief darkening his eyes. The reptile was good, she had to give him that.
“That was one,” he murmured, so close his breath brushed against her throat and a shiver of something—a whisper of delight and terror—something primeval ran up and down her body. “The second question is, will you tell me who you are?”
She pulled out of his grip and he let her go. Warmth still caressed her arm, like the twin to the tattoo on her other arm, the one that pledged allegiance to Dragons just like him.
“You’re a big man about town. I’m sure you can figure it out.”
She left him gaping at her in the laneway and fought back the curve of her lips.
Chapter 23
Hana jolted awake in the chair by the day bed where Rex slept, in the safe house beneath Quan’s den. She’d slept in fits and starts between times tending to Rex with cool compresses and soothing words as he sweated, tossed, and muttered his way deliriously through the night.
She checked the time. 5.30 am. Dawn would come soon, the phoenix sensed
it, even this far below ground. The door cracked open quietly and Quan, with the gods-given scent of coffee, wafted into the room. She groaned, blinking eyes gritty with exhaustion.
“Gods be merciful, that coffee smells so good I could marry you, Quan.”
Quan lifted an eyebrow, making his deeply lined face contort in a way that made Hana want to laugh.
“You sound like you’re on your way to being as delirious as the boy.”
Hana took the steaming cup from Quan and closed her eyes as she inhaled the bitter, divine scent. After she’d taken a few sips, she turned her eyes back to Rex. They both watched his chest rise and fall, more peaceful than he’d been since his dramatic arrival the night before.
“He regain consciousness yet?” Quan asked.
“Not yet,” Hana murmured.
“You want me to be here when you read him the riot act?”
“Please.” She groaned, rising from the chair.
“Go and get some sleep, Poncoyo, you look like the dead. I’ll call you if he stirs.” He paused. “Do you need to tell me all about that lethal looking Dragon who brought him in last night? He looked as though he recognised you.”
“The less you know about him the better, Quan.”
“Should we be concerned? Do we need to change the location—”
“I’ll deal with it, grandpa,” she muttered. “But, yes, I think we should use the tunnels to find another place, perhaps under the old ruins.”
Bone weary, on her way to the Justice Precinct, Hana was on edge. Lack of sleep made her jumpy, and though the sun was rising, dark shadows still lurked beneath downtown’s high rises. She had to stop and double back a few times, the hair rising on her neck.
She couldn’t see anyone following her, couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary, just the usual sounds of the hawker stalls being set up for the morning and a few howls and snaps as werewolves and other demon species made their way home after whatever hi-jinx they’d been up to under cover of darkness.
She couldn’t hear or see anything untoward, and maybe it was just her paranoia after the night’s events, but her instincts urged her to be careful. To make sure she wasn’t followed.
Rounding the corner to the block where the Justice Precinct squatted like a fat, dark, toad, she quickened her steps. A stench shoved its way up her nostrils as she passed an alley cast in shadow, and she could have sworn she heard the clatter of insect-like feet. Lots of them.
Hana broke into a jog, not caring if she looked ridiculous. She bounded up the precinct steps, slamming her card against the reader, then took the stairwell, leaping three steps at a time until she pushed the fire door open to step out carefully onto the balcony.
She surveyed the alleyway that had spooked her. Nothing.
She passed her captain on the way back to her desk.
“You all right Poncoyo?” He eyed her speculatively. “Been burning the midnight candle again?”
She grumbled a response.
He shrugged. “The boys and I have been assigned to security detail today. Roaring Tiger rehearsal.” He described the parade where children of the royal family donned special outfits and paraded along the Indigo River to remind the rest of them how special the Tigers were. How magically gifted, a warning wrapped up in glamour and extravagance, but a warning about their dominance, nonetheless.
“You look like you’re better suited to desk duty today. Get me on the hand-held if there’s anything we need to deal with.”
Clean-up crew. She read between the lines. The only thing that he wanted to be interrupted for was clean-up crew. Like the rest of them, he couldn’t pass up an opportunity to crawl on his belly for a bit of attention from the Tigers.
She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, sir.”
As he left, she sighed and went in search of more coffee. It was going to be a long day.
Hana had to use all of her will to avoid the temptation of crawling under her desk and taking a nap. She might have put her head down on her desk and rested her eyes for a few moments. The exhaustion of the last week and the weight of the conversation she’d need to have with Rex when he woke weighed down her bones.
Worry about the Dragon, what he knew, what his agenda was, dragged on her too. And Quan was right to consider their safety. She thumbed off a message to Silver. She’d put some more security around the den. Consider moving their safe house again. She had a few more spots they could try.
Perhaps she’d have to start using the underground network of tunnels again. Her phoenix hated it, preferred to move above ground, but if it kept them safe, hidden, she would do it.
Her sister had mapped those tunnels painstakingly, had made sure Hana knew her way around every Quarter, just in case she would one day need to use them to flee. Hana also kept a list gleaned from her work at the precinct of warehouses and dens vacated by Clans that had been done out of their trade, usually by the Tigers.
She came to a decision about the Dragon too. If he had something over her, she could match it. And with the office empty, now was the perfect time to set it up.
Chapter 24
“He still sleeping?” Hana asked Quan as she came to relieve his watch that night. She sat down in the ornately carved chair by the day bed, looking at the red-haired boy, his face untroubled in sleep. After a flare-up as severe as this one had been, a whisper from flames and plunging death, he might very well sleep for a day or more.
“He should make the most of his peace. Perhaps he senses what awaits him when he wakes,” Quan said.
Hana pulled out her hand-held, complete with Lylah’s plug-in.
“What have you been working on, Hana?”
She told Quan about Katana, who he was, without going into detail about what had happened to her that night at his penthouse. The intel Silver had provided about him being on the Tiger’s hit list.
Quan whistled.
She called up the drone surveillance she’d set up outside Katana’s penthouse, flicking through the day it had recorded. She’d set it to make randomly timed sweeps past the floor-to-ceiling windows, and between passes it sat atop the low balcony, scanning the outdoor area without drawing attention to itself.
“And what, exactly, are you hoping to see?”
Hana shrugged. “I want to know who comes to the penthouse, who his friends are, what he gets up to. If he can reveal something about us, I want to have something on him.”
No movement was visible on the screen as she flicked through the first hours of the day.
“So, you intend to blackmail him then?”
She hummed, not committing herself to that statement.
“I want to protect us.”
“Why not set Silver on this mission? Why take this on yourself? Is there something special about this Dragon, apart from the pretty eyes and pumped biceps?”
Hana glared at Quan, but her gaze caught movement on the screen. The balcony, after sundown. Lanterns blinked on, casting long, dusky shadows over the water sparkling in the lap pool. Red, yellow and green lights reflected from the city buildings that surrounded the penthouse, like mountains bedecked in jewels.
Two figures emerged. The Dragon, in a midnight blue robe. The other figure was about the same height, but gangly, most likely a young adult. His hair shone silver in the lantern light.
Quan cleared his throat as the Dragon slipped off his robe, his bare back in plain sight of the recorder. Glittering scales of teal, turquoise and the colour of the sky on a hot summer night, the lightest of light blue, spread across powerful shoulder blades, the light off the lanterns casting silver reflections across the rippling water.
Hana’s cheeks heated and she didn’t have to look at Quan to know he was rolling his eyes.
“Shhh,” she said. “They might talk.”
But the magnificent Dragon leaped into the pool after the boy had done so from the other end, dive bombing him. He surfaced, roaring with laughter.
Hana held perfectly still, not wanting to show
with her face what she felt deep inside her.
The phoenix was rattling its cage, responding to the joyful sights and sounds of the Dragon and his young friend messing around in the pool. The sound of the Dragon’s laughter, the light in his eyes, loosened something clenched tightly in her chest.
Hana barely dared to breathe.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away as the Dragon and his companion played—because there was no other word for it—for several minutes.
Quan snorted. “You find anything useful, you let me know. I need to get up to the club.”
Hana nodded, beyond defending herself. After the play-fighting, the Dragon swam laps, his powerful arms cutting through the water. She’d known that Dragons had an affinity for water, but this…
Then it was the youngster’s turn, and Hana saw, even though she couldn’t hear well, the Dragon patiently tutoring the boy, giving tips, pushing him to go faster, harder, use better technique, even as the boy scowled.
Another figure emerged onto the pool deck, with a tray of drinks and snacks. Recognition flickered. She paused the vision, gave the command to zoom in, and doubled the audio.
“Refreshments, boss,” the newcomer said.
The Dragon pushed himself up onto the pool deck, shoulders rippling impressively under the scales that peeked over his shoulders like plates of armour. Hana’s mouth went dry.
“Thank you, Alessio.”
Alessio.
It was the young Tiger she recognised, the one who Stryker had sent in to fight on his behalf that night. The one that Katana had beaten to claim her and keep her from Stryker’s clutches.
The one she had begged him to save. And here he was, not dead in some alley, but safe and well, and looking very much like Katana had taken him under his protection.
The phoenix sang joyfully within her again, as if it had known this about Katana all along.
Hana’s plans to do some recon on the antique store in Snake Quarter took a hit as Mama Singh called her in to cover her shift on the first day of the New Year celebrations. She’d sent several messages to Hana’s hand-held, each progressively shorter and crankier, wondering if Hana still wanted to keep her loft above the shop, and if so, she needed to haul her ass over to the place where she—supposedly— resided and make good with her commitment. Her help was needed on the busiest day of the year.
