Aquarius

by Kim Faulks

  His squeezed my shoulder, before slipping away. I waited for his steps to fade before I lifted my head to the screen, and pressed the button turning to the humans’ channels. Talk to them? How on earth was I supposed to do that now?

  “…live on CNN, we've uncovered shocking news tonight. A chilling recording which shows that we have more to fear than the wolves. We’ve found a leaked recording of some bizarre ritual more terrifying than anything we’ve ever seen. CNN warns some viewers they might find the following footage distressing.”

  Grainy images bounced, filling the screen with a flickering orange hue against weathered faces. I stared at the Bloodstone pack, as the camera panned, taking in Marcus and Abrial standing on a makeshift podium.

  The crunch of bone filled the speakers. A shudder bounced the view as the skin on my brother’s forehead split. Horns punched through, shattering bone. The tearing of his clothes clenched my stomach. His body grew, expanding up and out. Glistening red scales replaced pink flesh.

  His back bowed. Talons speared from between his spine, driving through flesh to glisten with blood. Cold black eyes found us, scanning the crowd as the man turned into the dragon.

  I pressed the button, finding a new channel and stared at the same gruesome image. Different faces, still the same message.

  Be scared.

  Be afraid.

  We’re the weak ones here.

  We need to do something.

  Why aren’t our governments doing something to end this?

  Channel after channel. How could I stop this?

  “…everywhere all over the news. You’ve seen the footage of these beasts in the forest, but here at WRE News we’re offering something different. We want to hear from these so-called monsters. We want to listen to their side of the story. Are they so different to the wolves we shun? Are they here to kill us?” The anchorwoman leaned in. Strands of blonde hair caught the bright lights in a river of molten gold. Her brown eyes pierced me where I sat. “So, we’re sending out an invitation. A specific invitation. I want to talk to you. I want to hear your side of the story. My name is Lilian Wright and my number is written on the bottom of the screen, and I’m waiting to take your call.”

  The number flashed. I stilled, my brain unable to catch up. A specific invitation…an invitation to me. I stumbled from the chair. My were feet were dead weights that moved too fucking slow.

  My pulse exploded, the sound deafening as I collided with the timber desk. Pain flared from my hip, driving into my balls. Pens spilled across the desk. Plastic clattered, falling between my fingers.

  I grasped the ballpoint and a random scrap of paper and stumbled backwards. Frenzied movements covered the page with the scrawl. My damn hands trembled, the thunder in my chest urging me to hurry…hurry.

  Hope flared like a neon sign as the message disappeared for an infomercial. Some crazy cutting instrument filled the screen, turning plump round tomatoes into a diced mess in one strike. I turned to the paper in my hands and stared at the number.

  This could be the break we needed. Someone I could tell our side of the story. Someone who might just listen.

  I gripped the paper and raced for the hallway, lingering at the door long enough to glance over my shoulder. On the screen, one commercial changed to another. I dropped my gaze to the DVD player. I couldn’t help Zadoc, not right now—but I had a chance to make a difference. I had a chance to show these humans what we really were…and maybe with their help we could find our brother and bring him home.

  My shoulders sagged as I turned and strode along the hall. Low voices drifted from the lounge. Victor stood on one side, with Marcus on the other. We were a family divided, a family weakened.

  Odessa turned as I entered the room. Her smile pinched the edges of her mouth and the wound across her face dimpled. For a second I couldn’t see the woman, tendrils of black mist crowded my view.

  I moved my gaze to Victor. His quick smile hardened to stone. He shifted closer to the seer, his arm brushed hers, comforting, protecting. The sight of this stung. I wasn’t going to hurt her. The slip of paper crumpled in my grip.

  I raised the creased mess and forced the words. “I’ve got something. I think I’ve got something.”

  Wolves and dragons turned. North stepped aside and motioned me into the middle.

  Marcus raised his gaze. “What is it?”

  Fire danced, seeping into his words. I fought the sting of his anger. I’d never let them see me weak. The torn slip of paper fluttered as I raised my hand. “I think I’ve found a way to reach them…the humans. There’s a channel—WRE News. They’re calling for us to give our side, to show them we’re more than that damn footage.”

  Marcus’s gaze hardened. “Why would they care? They have the video they need. They don’t care about the truth.”

  No matter how many times Goulding apologized, it was Marcus who carried the blame. The footage had been sent to the deputy’s private work account, it was never meant to fall into another’s hands.

  But somehow it had.

  “It’s something though, isn’t it?” Michael called, shuffling from one foot to another.

  I found him amongst the others. “Yes, it’s something. It’s a way for us to tell our side of the story.”

  “But what side are we telling?” Marcus growled, shaking his head. “What side of this damn mess could possibly give us any standing with them? I mean look at what they are. Look at what they do to the damn wolves—look at what they do to each other.”

  I closed my eyes for a second and breathed deep. He wasn’t going to allow it. He’d fight and get his own damn way—just like he always did.

  “Why don’t you just tell them the truth?” Odessa’s gentle words slipped through the cracks. “Make them see you as another shifter—like us.”

  “You expect us to leave our home?” Marcus snapped. “Be forced to live in the woods like some damned leper?”

  “Is that so bad?” I muttered and shook my head. “Bricks and mortar mean little when it comes to getting Zadoc back.”

  Murmurs followed. I found each member of my family—Xael, Lucas, Orlando. Air divided amongst themselves, earth stood grounded…and water remained still—we were a family torn. “You wanted me to do this remember? If anyone else has a better suggestion, then let’s hear it.”

  The room fell silent. I waited, teetering on the edge of doing something. “If this is all I can do, then I’m doing it, with or without your help.”

  Marcus’s flinch was brutal. I turned my head and looked at Victor. Blonde hair fell forward as he gave a nod, and with each second I felt the momentum grow.

  “Well, I vote for Evander to do this.” Michael broke the ice.

  “Me too,” Bastian snapped. “Maybe it might stop the mortals from jumping the damn fence.”

  The others chorused, blending fear and hope until I couldn’t tell them apart. I pulled my fear inside, forcing tempered words. “I can do this. I know I can do this, so let me do this for us.”

  Marcus sighed, his shoulders sagged. “Fine. Do it your way. We’re fucked no matter which way this turns.”

  I took a step, clenching the paper tight. “I’ll call them, invite them over.”

  “Not here.” He growled, staring at the room packed with predators. “They won’t come here.”

  No, they wouldn’t come. I wouldn’t come. I stepped across the line and stared at us with human eyes. “She’ll be terrified. I’ll go to them. Some place visible. Alone. I’ll go alone. They won’t fear me if I go alone.”

  The silence wasn’t welcoming. Doubt shouldered open the door and strode through. “I need answers. I need a story. How do we tell them what we really are?”

  “We don’t. We tell them the basics—we’re dragons, no different to wolves.” Marcus raised his hand, raking fingers through his hair.

  That wasn’t going to work. It was too damn risky. “And if they ask where are the others of our kind?”

  “We tell them th
ey’re all dead, we’re the last ones,” Orlando muttered. “Maybe that might ease their fear a little, knowing there’s only twelve left?”

  I nodded. “This could work—”

  “As long as we keep to ourselves, no one can know most of us still can’t fully shift,” Xael snapped, cutting me off.

  Her anger slipped through the air to detonate like a bomb. Wolves and dragons murmured and hissed in unison—we were a viper room ready to strike.

  “I’ll present it as if the others of our line have died out. We are the last of our line. Then we’re not exactly lying and they can assume we can all shift just fine.”

  Bastian turned toward me, followed by North and Isaiah, and then the remainder of the room.

  I licked my lips. “I’ll have a set of questions and answers based on what we want them to know, anything else I’ll politely decline to answer. If they want the exclusive, then they’ll take what we give.”

  “Looks like this is our only option then,” Marcus growled. “Make your call, set up the meeting. And let’s hope this doesn't burn us to the ground.”

  My eldest brother turned, swiping one last look at me before he made for the door. I gripped the paper; sweat softened the creases. This was our way out—I could feel it in my soul. Victor slid his arm around the seer and I followed the movement of his hand. First Marcus found Abrial, and now Victor found Odessa.

  The blonde anchorwoman came to life inside my head, then morphed into Zadoc’s face. Betrayal cut deep. I needed my brother home—not someone to warm my bed.

  “Make the call brother,” Michael murmured, and rested his hand on my shoulder. “And let’s hope it brings us one step closer to Zadoc.”

  2

  Evander

  Neon orange bled to blue in the puddles outside Binder’s Bar. I lifted my gaze to the thick heavy drops as my stomach twisted and turned. Fifteen or twenty cars filled the muddy parking lot. A goddamn, miserable night. This wasn’t the place I had in mind when I made the call.

  But then again, neither was Lilian.

  The anchorwoman was careful, calm—not the panic driven mess I’d been expecting. She plucked Binder’s out of ten other places that would’ve been nicer and more open. But this place had been her call, her safety-net, filled with drunken locals and tired waitresses.

  I strangled the seed of doubt as the roar of an engine seeped into the car. Harsh yellow lights bounced off the rearview mirror, blinding me. I winced and cut my gaze left. Sparks danced in my gaze as the old pickup pulled in and parked.

  I didn’t go to bars. I didn’t go to clubs. I liked the hustle of busy coffee shops and the silence of the library. I liked the open, the exposed. I liked the quiet and the comforting. I liked knowing I could leave at any moment—and no one would be the wiser.

  The slam of a car door dragged me into the present. A figure headed for the entrance, shoulders hunched, cap pulled low. I leaned over, the list of questions crinkled in my pocket as I yanked the handle. There was no pressure. No damn pressure at all—only the safety of my family, and my brother’s survival depended on this going well.

  The cold rushed in, wrapping me in a wet embrace. Sodden gravel crunched under my boots. A dim roar leaked out from the building—some country love song with a heavy beat and a heavy heart. I shoved the door, and waited for the slam before I hit the button on the remote.

  White lights flashed as the locks thudded. Cars coasted along the main road behind me, kicking up a spray of water as they headed for town. I dipped my head against the rain and raced for the door, dodging ankle deep wells as I cut through the parking lot. The awning provided little shelter. I took one glance inside. The bar was lit, glasses sparkled on the counter. Five or six guys sat on barstools, searching for love in the bottom of half-filled amber glasses.

  I cut my gaze left to a couple playing pool. The woman threw her head back and laughed. Her untamed blonde hair reminded me of Odessa, but this place wasn’t my home and these humans were not my kin. I shoved the metal frame, steel squealed against the concrete floor. The boom of my heart filled my ears. One human glanced my way as I stepped inside, and then returned to his drink.

  The waitress lifted her head and forced a smile. I mirrored the same, searching the darkened corners of the room. Movement at the edges drew my focus. A woman stood, dressed in jeans and a thick parka and stared at me for a while before motioning me forward.

  Something fluttered inside my chest. The anchorwoman looked different under the barroom light, softer around the edges, somehow more real than what I’d seen on screen.

  Her lips parted, the corners of her mouth curved as she took a step toward me. And suddenly the false smile on my lips became real. My damn heart thundered. Victor and Odessa reared inside my head—he leaned into her—their lips brushed. I licked my dry lips as the memory took hold. Maybe…just maybe…

  A guy rose from the seat behind her. Tufts of hair stuck out from the straps of his backward cap. My smile faltered. I thought it’d be just her and me…so why was he here?

  For protection.

  Protection from me.

  From Me? But I’d never hurt her…

  The bar blended into nothing as I neared. I raised my hand, palm out and braced myself for her touch. Recoil flared in her gaze for a second before her long fingers curled around my palm. Her essence made me sick to my stomach…greed, so much bloody greed.

  “Lilian Davis. Please, take a seat.”

  Her slick grip left a film on my skin. I swiped my palm against my shirt and glanced at the guy behind her. He pulled a handheld camera from a bag on the floor as I spoke. “I’ve prepared some questions I’m going to answer.”

  One brow lifted on her perfect face, the smile wavered. “Really? Let’s see them.”

  The paper was gone from my grasp before I could protest. Her disarming smile was quick as she scanned the questions. Her gaze was electric as I eased into the seat, drifting to my hair, and then dropped to my chest.

  My belly clenched tight. I waited for her to say something, anything. Lilian leaned across the table. Her hand slipped from the edge to graze my knee. “So, about these questions.”

  My body trembled, my pulse raced, fighting to keep up with the frantic pace of my mind. I nodded and wet my arid mouth. “Yes, we thought it was—”

  “We? How many of you are there?”

  I dragged tobacco-stained air into my lungs and stared at the paper in her hands. “The questions. I guessed we should start with what are we.”

  Anger flared. Her top lip twitched, fighting the urge to rise. “The questions…right. So, what are you?”

  I curled my shoulders and hugged the table, keeping my voice low. “We’re shifters just like the wolves except our animal form is a dragon.”

  She grasped a pen, and dragged a notepad from her bag and scribbled. “Dragons, huh? So, what kind? Ones that breathe fire, ones that kill?”

  In the murky waters of my mind, my dragon waited. I wanted to crawl into his shell. I wanted to hide from the stench of this human world and wait…just a little while longer—one more century was all it’d take until they wiped themselves off the face of the earth. But there were no more centuries left—I had this moment. “Yes, we can breathe fire. But I think the more important question is why have we been discovered now?”

  Her scribble slowed, lingering on the last word. She raised her head, capturing my gaze. “So, why is it?”

  “Because you have a problem…a big one. Did you think that the creatures of this world stopped with us?”

  Her eyes flared, the whites glistened in the dim overhead light.

  “Women are being sold like cattle, both humans and shifters. They’re drained of blood by vampires, and tortured by demons. This is the story you need to be chasing. This is the story that needs to be news.”

  Her pen stilled. I looked at the last line. She’d stopped writing.

  “There’s a human woman sitting in a demon’s cell right now, pregnant…afraid
.”

  She flinched. “Pregnant?”

  I nodded. “She isn’t the first, Lilian, and she won’t be the last. But we can stop this. We can find a way to work together. It’s not too late.”

  She dropped her pen. The tubing inside rattled as it hit the table. “How do you know all this?”

  “My brother—” Zadoc’s screams echoed inside my mind. I could still see the ruptured veins in his eyes “—was taken as well.”

  Lilian eased back against her seat. She turned her head and motioned to the man at her back, and with a shake of her head, he lowered the camera.

  “This isn’t what we’re here for, Evander. I wanted something more…” Predatory eyes consumed me. “More fucking alive to be honest. You sit here and look at me like a whipped dog. This…shit about a pregnant woman and your brother. This isn’t why I’m here.”

  I stabbed the table with my finger as the fairytale turned to ash. “Then why did you come? This is real, this is happening—right under your nose.”

  The slow shake of her head hit me. This was my chance, my one goddamn chance. Yet my words made no impact… I made no impact. “You have to listen to me. My family and I, we need you, we need you to trust us.”

  “Tell me. How dangerous are you…say on a scale of one to ten?”

  I opened my palms and desperation took hold. “Do I look dangerous to you?”

  Twilight sparkled in her gaze. “No, you look like every other pathetic loser in this bar. But you’re not, are you?”

  The questions swirled like a whirlpool in my head. “The demons.”

  Anger flashed bright in her gaze. Her top lip peeled backwards baring her teeth. “I’m not interested in the fucking demons.”

  I grasped the edge of the table and leaned in. “Then why the hell are you here?”

  “Because I want a headline. I want something I can use. How many of us have you killed? How dangerous are you? How many of your kind are there?”

  I swallowed the bitter anger, still it leaked into my words. “You’re not here to help me. You don’t even care about your own damn kind. Can’t you see I’m trying to help you? You want a story? This story is bigger than anything else you’ll ever see. Mankind is going to war—whether you like it or not.”