“Your mother won’t be the only one upset that you left,” Cale said, shifting the tangent of the subject a few degrees.
Anger flashed in Cameron, the bit of red that ran through his veins showing itself within the well of his eyes. It was gone as soon as it had come. Cale couldn’t blame him for being angry at Mac. Their father had never even tried to understand his youngest son.
“I believe you’ve chosen your rider illogically,” Cameron said, changing the subject right back to Cale.
Cale smiled at their little game. He remembered the first time he had caught on to one of them. Subtle and quick and, in a strange way, exciting. So different than the bouts of wrestling with Rory. Just as good.
Cale knew Cameron wasn’t insulting Ava or bashing his choice. He was stating fact as he believed it to be so. It was blue, but Cale understood. He couldn’t count how many times Rory and Mac had flown into rage because of Cameron’s observations. It happened so often that Cameron had learned to keep quiet. But with Cale, he could speak without condemnation. It was a reserved sort of freedom.
“I do like her,” Cameron added. “She suits you.”
Cale’s smile was phenomenally wide. “Finally, someone with some sense.”
Cameron stood up and walked to the kitchen. “I’m hungry,” he said. It was his way of explaining to Cale that he wasn’t trying to be rude by walking away mid conversation.
“I don’t think they have anything for you here,” Cale said from the couch.
The O’Hara's weren’t like the Anders'. They were all reds, all young. The place would be filled with meat, water, and nothing else.
“Myra hides it for me,” he said, digging through the freezer.
He pulled out a frozen sliver of salmon, no more than a few inches long, and Cale looked away as Cameron slipped it into his mouth and chewed carefully. When he spoke, his mouth was still full. “You know you’ll need clout for the red council to even consider meeting with you, right?”
Cale sighed and ran a hand through is dark hair. “I’m not exactly favored right now, Cameron.”
Cameron was still chewing. That bite of salmon would take him a month’s time to digest. “You’re precisely the opposite of favored. But perhaps we can make that work to your advantage.”
***
The O’Hara sisters looked spectacular. Their smoky makeup, their gravity-defying heels, their skinny jeans and dangling earrings. Ava felt particularly plain in her sweatshirt and ripped jeans. Somehow, Onna had wiggled in between Cale and Ava in the backseat of Dana’s car. Myra and Cameron claimed the front, both quiet as Myra drove.
Ava examined Onna shamelessly. If she wants attention, she’s going to get it. Onna’s hair was braided to the side, but her tattoo peeked out, bright red grooves and indentations against the smooth skin on her chest.
“What does the tattoo mean?” Ava asked, gesturing to it.
Cale pointedly turned his attention to the cars whizzing by outside of his window. To Ava’s surprise Onna blushed crimson. She gave no answer. Instead, she looked straight ahead and pretended she hadn’t heard. So Ava leaned forward in her seat.
“Cameron, what’s the tattoo about? Do all reds have one?”
Cameron looked over from the passenger seat. Ava knew he couldn’t resist sharing information. “That particular type of mark is a signal that a red dragon is looking for a mate.”
The laugh spilled out of Ava before she could contain it. “I can see why you don’t want to talk about it,” she said to Onna.
“Most reds keep those markings in more private places,” Cameron added matter-of-factly.
Myra slapped Cameron’s arm, her eyes still on the road, and Cameron responded by clamping his mouth shut. He offered a look to Myra that might have held contrition in it.
Ava smirked at Onna. “Risqué,” she teased.
“Enough, Ava,” Cale said softly.
Ava blinked at him. She looked away, angry at herself for letting a simple comment from Cale hurt her feelings. He was right of course. It was senseless to poke fun at one of the few people willing to help them.
Cale watched as Ava looked out of her window, her fist clenched on her lap. Without warning, he got up in the cramped backseat of the car and shoved Onna a little so that she fell into the place he had been sitting in. She objected as he clambered over her.
“You’re too big,” Onna whined as he stepped on her toes, clambering over her. “You’re crushing me.”
Cale ignored her, plopping down in the center of the seat, between she and Ava. He stretched out, squishing both girls against their doors. The smile that played on Onna’s lips faded when Ava pushed back against Cale, trying to make room for herself.
“You don’t want my company?” Cale asked, grinning as he leaned against his rider even harder.
“Not so much of it,” she replied.
Cale laughed and put his arm over her shoulders, sliding away to allow Ava breathing room. “Better?”
“Tolerable.”
Reds littered the street just outside the entrance to the Cave. It was a fight night–one of the biggest of the year–and the bass of the music shook the loose gravel on the street above the club.
Cameron paused outside the doors of the bar with his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
“I don’t think I’ll be welcome,” he said. Cameron couldn’t be sure. Reds, alcohol, and adrenaline made unpredictable subjects of analysis.
“Chances are I won’t be either,” Cale answered.
Onna and Myra stood side by side, both of their arms crossed. Their noses were both narrow, their eyes light brown and wide, their thin lips drawn into puckered frowns. Despite Onna’s black hair and Myra’s blonde locks, it was the first time they looked anything like twins to Ava.
“We’ll get you in,” Onna said. “Just watch.” And they led the way inside and down the stairs.
Tattoo opened the door to the O’Hara’s, but when he saw Cale, he froze. His pupils dilated, and his mouth dropped open for just a moment. He clenched it shut and crossed his arms before he spoke.
“I can’t let you in,” he said to Cale. He nodded his head toward Cameron as well. “And especially not you.”
Ava thought for sure Onna would flirt her way into the club, but it was Myra who stepped up. She stood inches from Tattoo’s face. Ava was learning quickly: it was a challenge.
“Move, Mark.”
To Ava’s surprise, it was Tattoo who swallowed and looked away. “Myra, I can let you in, but not them. It’s not up to me. You know that.”
“And why not?”
“Victor’s rules. Only reds.” He flicked his eyes towards the bar, as though he thought Victor and Manuel might be listening. But they were nowhere to be seen.
“Tell Victor that if he wants a show, he’d better bend those rules of his.”
Mark’s face flushed. “I can’t leave the door.”
Myra pushed past him, knocking him off his gait. “I’ll find him then.”
Onna followed, turning just enough to shoot Mark a look that made him gulp.
Cale, Ava, and Cameron stood just inside the door of the Cave and Ava was amazed at how pale Cameron’s skin looked compared to Cale’s. The red light of the Cave brought out the tint of Cale’s complexion, having the opposite effect on Cameron. It was clear the blue dragon didn’t belong.
Cameron ignored it though, resonating confidence as he stood beside his brother. He had been watching Mark who grew uncomfortable as the minutes passed, sending untrusting glances in Cale’s direction.
“He’s curious,” Cameron said to Cale, loud enough for Mark to hear.
“No,” Mark said, shaking his head. He turned back to the door, trying not to stare at the strange gathering of red, blue, and human. He’d never seen anything like it, never even heard of reds and blues sharing air without a fight of some sort resulting. Throw a random human into the mix, and it was all too bizarre.
“What do you think he wants to
know?” Cale asked.
Ava watched, amused at the brothers’ game. It was one Rory could never have played with them. Psychologically comical and dependent on keeping a cool head and monitoring Mark’s reactions.
Cameron shrugged nonchalantly, but he was soaking in everything about Mark, from his flitting eyes to the way he shifted his weight from leg to leg.
That was all the ammunition Cameron needed. “He wants to know if you’ll kill him.” He spoke to Cale loud enough for Mark to hear. “Perhaps we can buy entrance with his blood.”
Mark blanched beneath his tattoos, still pretending to ignore their conversation. He held the door open for two reds that nearly jumped when they saw Cale and Cameron. They hurried through, leaving Mark alone at his post again.
“No, it’s clear he’s wondering whether you’ll experiment on him,” Cale interjected. “Have you already met your quota for red dragon corpses?”
A smile played on Cameron’s lips. “I believe I’m short one red specimen this month.”
Mark shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. Ava had figured that reds and blues didn’t often get along, but she had no idea that reds could be afraid of the even-tempered, analytical blues.
“What do you think, Rothai?” Cale asked her.
Ava wasn’t sure that Cale was talking to her. It was the first time she’d heard him use the red dragon word. She remembered Karma tossing it around back when she was explaining the pacting process to her, but Cale had never said it before.
Ava could tell it was an honor that he used it on her by the way Mark regarded her. Curiously. And with respect, despite himself.
Ava put on her most serious face and thought of what would get the biggest reaction from their target. What will really jar him? She held herself still so she wouldn’t give it away as she delivered her lines.
“He’s afraid I’ll gut him.” She narrowed her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her mouth. “Just like I did that black dragon.”
Mark stalled at that, like a jolt of electricity had passed through him. His pupils changed, disappearing into brown slivers. He took several steps backward, leaving the entrance to the Cave wide open.
Confused, Ava turned to Cale. But he looked much the same as Tattoo, his skin paling. Even Cameron was affected, the large, blue spheres of his eyes turned to slits.
“Cale?” Ava said, tugging his arm. “Cale, let’s go.”
He snapped out of it, blinking his eyes back to normal.
“You okay?” Ava asked as she made her way toward the large gathering of dragons. The club had been changed so that in the center of it, a large, metal cage stood erect. The Pit.
Cale pulled her closer to him, something she’d have to get used to at the Cave. A few weeks before, Ava would have objected. But she couldn’t blame Cale this time around. Dragons whispered as they passed by and Ava felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. How many of them would like to take a swing at me? She had almost forgotten that the last time they’d seen her, she’d laid Onna out. Ava had hurt all of their pride.
“That was genius,” Cale said. He breathed easier with Ava so close, but he still kept his eyes on the other dragons.
Cameron walked behind them. “I have to admit, I did not think of using…them…to gain admission.”
Ava grinned, pausing with Cale as he grabbed a drink he didn’t have to pay for. He handed it to Cameron, who took one sip and passed the glass back.
“I didn’t mean to scare him that much,” Ava admitted. “I thought I was just playing along.”
“The no-ir aren’t often spoken of in jest,” Cameron explained. Even when he spoke the name, Ava sensed his reservation.
“Why are you all so afraid of them?”
Cale had heard stories of the no-ir since childhood. The blood-chilling call of death. The strength and the speed. Even their newborns sprung up from the carcasses of their deceased, their sacs one with the rotting, oozing flesh–death born from death. And he had seen it. He had felt it call his name.
Cale stepped away from Ava and studied her face. How often can she surprise me? But Ava was perfectly relaxed, her green and red eyes curious.
“You didn’t think that black dragon was terrifying?” Cale asked.
Ava thought as they walked, chewing her bottom lip. “It was. But it’s not here right now. I just pretend it didn’t happen. That’s the best way to get through things that scare the crap out of you.”
Cale shook his head. “You just don’t get it. It’s in our blood to be afraid of them. It’s built into our cores. It doesn’t matter how brave or how high ranked a dragon is, doesn’t matter what race, the thought of the no-ir brings fear.”
Ava held a finger up. “I bet the greys aren’t afraid of them.”
“Hmm,” Cale said. “Never thought about that.”
“There you are,” Onna said, catching up to them, a little breathless. “How did you get in?” She didn’t give them a chance to answer. “We talked to Victor–”
“–And he’s pissed,” Cale finished for her.
“Well, of course he’s pissed. Also, there’s been a change of plans.”
Cale frowned and gritted his teeth. He had expected as much. “No.”
Ava looked from him to Onna. Cale’s jaw was locked, the corners of his mouth angled downward.
Onna threw her arms up. “I didn’t come up with it, Cale.”
“Come up with what?” Ava asked.
Cale ignored his rider, his full attention on his fellow red. “Onna, I’m not so sure I believe you.”
“Cale, I did not suggest it. I promise. Myra can vouch for me. We told Victor we wanted in, and he said it was too late for us to register. Then he got word that you guys were walking around out here and he asked me if I knew about it, and I said ‘no.’ Then he told me that the only way we’d get a chance at the winnings is if I got the human to fight in the Pit.”
“Sweet,” Ava said, her eyes lighting up. “I’ll do it.”
Cale grabbed her arm. “If you think I’m going to let you in that ring, you’ve lost your mind.”
Ava snatched her arm back, her eyes flashing. “I’m doing it to help you, Cale. And I’m perfectly capable of standing my ground. How many times do I have to prove that to you?”
Cale took her aside and leaned in closer. Desperation filled his eyes as he placed his hands on both of Ava’s arms. “Ava,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I know you can do it. I know that. I Chose you, didn’t I?”
Ava nodded reluctantly.
“What I’m saying is…. I’m asking you not to hurt me, Ava.”
Ava explored his eyes. No panic, no desperation. Ava knew that if she insisted, Cale would concede. He had to. When it all came down to it, Ava was in charge. But Cale wasn’t asking to take the lead. He was asking for Ava to respect his wishes.
“Okay,” Ava said. “I get it. I won’t.”
“Ava….”
“I won’t,” she said, her hands up in surrender.
“Good. Then let’s get out of here. This was a terrible idea to begin with.”
They were about to leave when Cale heard someone call his name. He turned, scanning the crowd, until two big arms wrapped him up from behind, nearly knocking him off his feet.
“Cale!”
Rory laughed, squeezing the life out of his younger brother. He stepped back and put his hands on Cale’s shoulders, his smile humongous, his sandy hair flopping into his eyes.
“Rory, what are you doing?” Cale hissed, pushing his brother away, looking around to see if anyone had noticed the embrace.
“I haven’t seen you in days,” Rory shouted. Then he frowned. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“Of course I am,” Cale said. He almost choked as he said it. You have no idea, Rory. “But you can’t talk to me in public like this.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m exiled. And Nestless. If Da–” he cleared his throat and tried again. �
��If your father knew you were being a brother to me, you’d be out right along with me.”
Rory jerked his chin out at Cameron. “But you don’t care if he follows you around?”
Cale put a hand on Rory’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?” he asked, trying to change the subject. It’s easier than explaining.
“I’m fine now,” he said. But his eyes were dark. “Cale, you should come back home. Drop this craziness. You’re driving Dad insane. And me, too. Mostly me.”
Cale shook his head. “Rory, I can’t come home. And I can’t talk to you in public. I told you.”
“Then, talk to me in private,” he said.
“Rory–”
“–Cale.”
Cale sighed. “Fine.” He turned to Ava and pointed his finger at her. “I’ll be back. Stay with Onna. Please.”
“Okay.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Stay with Onna, Ava.”
“Cale, I heard you.”
But it wasn’t enough. He took Onna aside, talking to her in red tongue. Ava didn’t know what they were saying, but he was speaking forcefully, almost as if he was threatening her. He pointed his finger at her, then back at Onna, then her again.
Onna nodded and rolled her eyes. “I got it,” she said.
“Onna, I’m serious.”
“I got it.”
Cale followed Rory to the back room. It was empty, as it usually was when Rory and his lady friends weren’t occupying it, when Rory wasn’t busy reenacting the choice that had stripped his birthright from him.
“Cale, we can fix this.”
Cale shook his head. “No, we can’t.”
He tried to distract himself from the ache that coursed through him, but there was nothing to look at except for Rory. Whatever healing he had embraced was being ripped away.
“Let me take care of this,” Rory said. “I’ll talk to Victor, get him to see straight. And I’ll reason with Dad. You don’t have to worry, Cale.”
Rory put his hands on his little brother’s shoulder in an effort to comfort him, to protect him. Cale felt like he was nine years old again. He remembered Sean, who was taller and older and bigger at the time, pushing him over in their backyard. Rory had pulled Sean up by the back of the shirt and tossed him into the patio table.
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