The Dragon's Hunt

by Jane Kindred

  Rhea studied him, clearly trying to decide if he was putting her on or just insane. She was still holding his hand. She noticed at the same moment he did, and she let it drop. He’d kind of been enjoying it. More than “kind of.”

  “Should I be checking to see if you have a prison record?”

  She didn’t seem too serious, so Leo laughed. “Maybe you should be. For all I know, I could be a felon.”

  She frowned. “That’s not encouraging. But I don’t necessarily disapprove of punching Nazis.”

  “So...” He smiled. “You’re not not licking toads.”

  The grin he got in return was totally worth the bruised knuckles.

  He had to get creative with posting the flyers. There weren’t many accessible utility poles or newsstands. A few crystal shops and bookstores had boards where postings were encouraged, so he hit up as many of those as he could, pinning the flyers among advertisements for Reiki and yoga and cupping. He couldn’t help a little juvenile smile at that last term.

  But the smile faded as he stopped to put up a few flyers on the planks lining a temporary covered walkway. Right in the middle of the advertisements for indie bands and metaphysical retreats, a bold poster, larger than the others, had been tacked up. Red-and-black print repeated the phrase from the graffiti he’d cleaned up, this time in English, complete with swastikas.

  Intending to tear it down and rip it to shreds to deposit it in the nearest recycling bin, he met with an unpleasant surprise. Something sharp lined the back of the poster, slicing his fingers open as he yanked on the poster board. Leo swore and pulled his hand away to find his fingers dripping with blood.

  Chapter 9

  Rhea looked up when the bell on the door announced Leo’s entrance, the smile on her face quickly turning to openmouthed shock as she saw his bloody fingers.

  She hurried out from behind the counter. “Now what happened?”

  “This time it wasn’t me. But it was Nazis.” He held up the bloodied strips of poster board, showing her the razor blades he’d found glued to the back along the edges.

  “Are you kidding me? Who would do that?” Rhea took the strips from him and set them on the counter. “Come on. We’d better clean you up. You don’t want to get sepsis.”

  A flash of something went through his mind, not quite a memory, but an image of a fallen comrade dying of a festering wound. Comrade in what?

  “No,” he agreed and let Rhea lead him to the bathroom.

  Having Rhea fussing over him was almost worth the sting of the soap and alcohol as she cleaned him up and bandaged his fingers.

  “I don’t think I really need bandages,” he protested, but Rhea was insistent.

  “For all we know, you need a tetanus shot.” Rhea glanced up from taping the last of the adhesive bandages over his right pinkie. “Have you ever had a booster?” When he opened his mouth to say he wasn’t sure, Rhea held up her hand and shook her head. “Never mind, don’t tell me—you have no idea. Jesus, Leo. How do you even know what your name is?”

  Leo shrugged and smiled. “It’s on my passport.” He was only half kidding. Rhea rolled her eyes as they headed back into the reception area.

  She carefully picked up one of the bloodied poster strips from the counter. “Why did you bring these back?”

  “I thought we might need the evidence. I don’t know. I suppose the police can’t do anything.”

  “The police might be complicit.” That wasn’t encouraging. Rhea laid out the strips on the counter, piecing it together, and frowned. “‘The impure shall be cast out.’”

  “That was the same thing that was written on the wall downstairs.”

  Rhea’s expression hardened. “That’s not good.”

  “Does it have some special meaning?”

  “My half sister Laurel—she kept using that phrase when she was delivering threatening notes from the necro—from Ione’s ex.”

  Leo looked bemused. “You think her ex is involved in this?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s the reason the police are a no-go. They were in on some ugly shit with him when he was a high-powered attorney.” Little frown lines formed between Rhea’s eyes. “Damn. I’m going to have to let Ione know about this. She’ll totally freak. She’s kind of controlling when it comes to the three of us—she raised us, basically, after our parents died.” Rhea leaned back against the counter. “But if this has something to do with Carter, I have to let her know. And Phoebe. And Theia. Dammit.”

  Leo started to brush his fingers through his hair but paused as he remembered the bandages. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”

  “Nothing is ever a coincidence around this guy. He’s powerful and spiteful. We took his little apprentice away from him, which has to have pissed him off. Maybe he’s found another way to get to us.”

  Leo studied her. She was seriously rattled. “What you started to say a minute ago... This guy, your sister’s ex—is he actually a necrophiliac?”

  Rhea laughed, and then shuddered. “He’s certainly twisted enough to do it. But that wasn’t what I was about to say.” She put her hands in her pockets and studied the floor. “I suppose I might as well tell you. Carter Hamilton and my sister Ione both belonged to the same coven. Until Carter decided regular witchcraft wasn’t enough for him and he started using magic intended to give him power over the dead.” She glanced up, a combination of defiance and determination in her eyes, as if daring him not to believe her. “He’s a necromancer.”

  It was one of those words he knew he’d heard before in another context, in another time, but the significance eluded him.

  “Or he was. We stripped him of his power.” She was watching him, waiting for his reaction.

  “Who’s ‘we’?”

  “My sisters and I. And Rafe, Phoebe’s boyfriend.”

  “And your sister Ione is...?”

  “A witch. Yes. So is Rafe.”

  A lot of people called themselves witches these days. It wasn’t that unusual. Necromancy, on the other hand... But he wanted to know more about these “shifter” abilities.

  “You said Rafe is able to shift into another form. Is that because of this ‘necromancer’?”

  “You don’t have to say ‘necromancer’ like I’m talking about my imaginary friend. It’s fine if you don’t believe me, but don’t condescend to me.” Rhea went to the electric kettle and switched it on. “You should get something hot into you. You’re freezing and your fingers are bleeding through those...” She’d turned away to get him a mug from the shelf, but she paused with the mug in her hand and turned slowly back to face him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “When did I say Rafe could shift into another form?”

  “When you were suggesting the Ass might have the ability to transform into something serpentine.”

  Rhea shook her head slowly. “No. No, I’m pretty sure I didn’t.” Her cheeks went slightly pink. “I mentioned it to Phoebe. We were talking about your tattoo and about Phoebe’s and Ione’s boyfriends. And you...heard the entire conversation.” The pink was now a delightful fuchsia.

  Leo tried to find something to do with his hands. He ended up crossing his arms awkwardly, his fingers splayed. “I caught a few things here and there.”

  “You didn’t hear me talking about reading you.”

  “Reading me?”

  “Stop it, Leo.” Her eyes narrowed with irritation, the dark brows contrasting with the glowing cheeks. “Just stop. You heard me tell Phoebe that I...” She obviously couldn’t bring herself to say it to his face.

  Leo looked down at his boots. “That you had a vision where you rode me like a Brahma bull, I believe it was.” He couldn’t help smiling, and he snuck a glance up at her from under his lashes.

  Rhea groaned, forehead in her
hand. “Is the ground opening up? My eyes are closed. I can’t tell. Please tell me the ground is opening up to swallow me whole.”

  Leo laughed. “Nope. Sorry. The ground appears to be pretty stable.”

  “I’ve sexually harassed my own employee.” Rhea sighed, still not looking up. “Let me get you the complaint form to fill out. I think I should warn you in advance that I don’t have much for you to sue me for. Just my shop. And my entire life savings that I’ve sunk into it.”

  “I think you’re making too big of a deal about this.”

  Rhea peered up at him through her fingers. “Isn’t that my line? Is this where I get dismissive and make an accusatory comment about what you were wearing? I’m new at being a lecherous douchebag.”

  “Rhea.” He couldn’t help laughing at her miserable expression. “I’m not going to sue you. I was a little surprised. More about the reading part than the...riding.” That, of course, wasn’t true, but he was curious. He realized he needed to phrase this just right. “Can you tell a person’s fortune by reading their tattoos?”

  She was still looking through her fingers. “I’ve been known to...read certain information about a person’s life from their tattoos, yes.” The kettle beeped and Rhea heaved an audible sigh of relief. “Tea or cocoa?”

  “Cocoa.” He watched as Rhea busied herself with the little packets. “So, is it like a tarot reading or a palm reading?”

  “It’s like I am the tarot.” Rhea poured the hot water into the cups. “I pick up images. It used to be only when the subject wanted to know something. It was a shared vision, but lately...I don’t know, it’s kind of gotten out of control. I’ve been trying to quit.”

  “But you read me yesterday when you were working on the touch-up.” Leo came to the table and took the cocoa from her. “I felt something. Saw...some kind of...” He sat on the couch, blowing on the hot beverage. “I don’t know. It felt like a memory.”

  Rhea sat beside him at a deliberate, respectable distance. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “The visions I’ve been having recently have been one-sided. I didn’t want to call attention to it.” She took a sip of her cocoa while it was still too hot and winced. “I’m not even sure we saw the same thing.”

  Leo smirked into his cup. “There wasn’t any bull riding on my end.”

  Rhea sighed and set her cup down, pressing her lips together against the cocoa burn, prompting a sudden urge within him to kiss them and make it better. “There wasn’t any on my end either. Just a bunch of snow. Full-on subarctic winter. And you were running—or I was running. It got a little blurry identity wise. Like in a dream. I’ve never had a vision that dragged me into it that way before. But there was blood spattered on the snow. And I think someone stabbed me.” They both shuddered at the same moment, and Rhea glanced at him. “Is that what you saw?”

  “Pretty much. The blood and the snow. And there were wolves. But not the stabbing. Except, when you said that, it felt...true, I guess is the only word. I could almost feel it happening.”

  Rhea studied him. “There weren’t any wolves in my vision. At least, not that one. I did hear wolves in the vision I had with him.” Her cheeks went pink again. “The first vision. Before the...”

  “The Brahma bull?” he offered helpfully.

  Rhea glared. “You’re just going to keep saying it, aren’t you?”

  “Sorry. It’s just such a colorful description.”

  She made that soft little groan again that didn’t help matters. “Anyway, there were hunting dogs in one of my visions, too.” She was pointedly trying to get him off the subject of Brahma bulls. “Though they did look a bit wolfish. Except they had curly tails.”

  “Jämthunds.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Sounds like they were jämthunds. A kind of Swedish elkhound. They have sort of wolfish faces. Probably descended from them.” Leo sipped his cocoa. “I wonder what the hunting imagery means.”

  Rhea looked like she was about to say something but sipped her cocoa instead.

  “So about your fortune-telling ability—”

  “I call it pictomancy.”

  “You said you’d done readings for people based on their queries. I wonder if you could use it to find out about someone’s past.”

  “You mean your missing past.”

  “Yeah, I...” He hadn’t thought this through. He didn’t know what Rhea might find. That was the problem with not knowing. “Never mind. Bad idea.”

  “Not necessarily.” Rhea’s look was guarded; maybe she was calculating the possibility of another intimate vision. “If you concentrate on a specific question, the reading should give us the answer to only that question. That’s the way it’s always worked before.”

  Was there a specific question he could ask that wouldn’t be potentially disastrous? He vaguely recalled getting the Jörmungandr tattoo. That ought to be safe enough, to get clarity on where and when he’d gotten it done. Just some damned detail from his past, no matter how mundane, would be nice.

  Rhea sipped her cocoa again. “Do you want me to do a reading?”

  “How much do you charge?”

  Her gray eyes flashed with apparent insult. “I don’t charge. That would be unethical.”

  “Why would it be unethical? People charge for reading fortunes all the time.”

  “Well, I’m not ‘people.’ I only do readings for friends and family.”

  Leo smiled, cocking his head. “So I’m a friend?”

  The smile she gave him in return seemed a little surprised. And pleased. “Yeah, I guess you are.”

  He was surprised by how this affected him. He couldn’t remember ever having a friend. Which was sad and pathetic. Then again, he couldn’t remember if he’d ever watched television. Maybe he’d had lots of friends. And maybe his alter ego had escaped and turned into a giant snake and killed them. Sure, just go there immediately. That’ll help with the whole “carefully selected past” concept.

  Rhea set down her mug. “So roll up your sleeve.”

  “Actually, I was thinking of the Midgard Serpent.”

  Rhea laughed nervously. “Right. Because that wasn’t at all awkward the last time.”

  “I wasn’t present the last time,” he reminded her. “At least not mentally. And you said you could focus on an event from the past.”

  She looked suspicious. “Why does it have to be the serpent?”

  “Because the question I want answered—Do I tell you beforehand?”

  “It’s not a parlor trick, so, yeah, that information would be useful.”

  “Right. Sorry. I want to find out exactly when and where I got the tattoo.”

  “And you don’t want to know where you got the others?”

  Leo gave her an apologetic smile. “Not from you.”

  “Ah. Got it. Okay, take off your shirt.” Her face went red again as soon as she’d said it. “I wasn’t speaking as your employer.”

  Leo laughed. “It’s okay. The lines here are sort of blurry, anyway.” He stripped off the shirt before she could object.

  Rhea pointedly avoided looking at his bare chest, turning her body on an angle to face his shoulder. Mindful of the cold, she rubbed her palms together briskly before placing her right hand over the tattoo. There was no immediate flash of imagery. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

  “Now think about your question. Hold it in your mind. Make it as specific as you can.”

  Leo concentrated on what he remembered about the time around the tattooing. He’d been in Sweden, he thought. Working on his undergraduate degree. He was dating someone... “Oh.” As he spoke the word aloud, the vision came, and he could see Rhea was sharing it. Faye.

  Somehow, he’d forgotten Faye. Sh
e was with him in the tattoo shop, bundled in a fur coat like the place was cold. Fire-red hair flowed down her back, blending with the russet hues of the fur. She was laughing at something the tattoo artist said, flirting with him, green eyes alight with pleasure. Faye flirted with everyone. “He can take it,” she was saying. “I’ve seen him take much worse.” She winked before turning her attention on Leo. “Can’t you, beautiful one?” Leo could feel the endorphin high from the tattoo blending with the helpless state of desire Faye could reduce him to with a word. The scene changed swiftly to a bedroom, Faye displayed in all her glory against the deep blue sheets, a poppy floating in the ocean. “What would you do for me, pretty Leo? Will you do anything for me?” He leaped onto the bed on all fours like a wild dog. “Gods, yes!”

  “That’s about enough of that.”

  The vision ended abruptly, and Leo suffered an instant of disorientation, trying to remember where he was. The moment had seemed utterly real. Mortified, he realized where he was when Rhea, scowling beside him, withdrew her hand.

  He grabbed his shirt and pulled it on. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that—I had no idea—”

  “Of course you had no idea. That was the point of the reading, wasn’t it?” Rhea rose and busied herself tidying the cocoa things. “It’s not like you conjured the vision deliberately. The pictomancy took you there. That was the moment. That’s when you agreed to get the tattoo.”

  “What do you mean, that was the moment? How do you know?”

  Rhea turned back to him, her expression annoyed. “‘Will you do anything for me?’” She copied Faye’s sexy, purring inflection rather well. “She was asking if you’d get tattooed for her. That was the answer to your question. And I’m guessing you had the kind of relationship where she tested your loyalty to her in a number of...interesting ways. If you catch my drift.”

  Leo crossed his arms over his chest, bandaged fingers still making it awkward. “No, I don’t catch your drift. What are you talking about?”

  Rhea looked at the ceiling and made an exasperated growling noise. “She was topping you. Idiot.”