Core

by Teshelle Combs

  Standing in the back room of the Cave, Rory was the same big brother, his hands exactly where they had been nine years before. But Cale gently pushed them away.

  “It’ll be easier than you think–”

  “Rory, you’re not listening.” Cale didn’t know how else to point out Rory’s denial.

  “I know it sucks right now, but–”

  “Rory, I’m not coming home,” Cale said firmly.

  Rory stood still long enough for Cale to see the hurt in his eyes.

  “Even if Mac apologizes,” Cale took a deep breath, “I’m not coming home. Ever.”

  “But…why?” Rory had to blink so that his eyes didn’t fill with water.

  “Why?” Cale’s temper flared, not at Rory but at his father, at the grey court, at the stupid edict that had inexplicably wrecked his life in no more than five minutes. He struggled to keep his anger suppressed enough to give a clear answer.

  “Because he disowned me, Rory.”

  “He didn’t mean it.”

  “Doesn’t matter what he meant.”

  Rory swallowed. “Well, at least give me something to do, then.”

  Cale frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I know you and Cameron must have come up with something by now.”

  Cale shook his head, but Rory growled. “Don’t tell me I can’t help. It doesn’t matter what you think, I’m still your big brother.” He shoved Cale, a light flickering behind his eyes.

  A knock on the door and Cale tensed. Victor opened, his lips turned down in a scowl. He stared at Cale, but still made sure to keep his distance. Exile was a dangerous thing, even for someone like Victor. No one was willing to get too close to Cale. If only Rory would understand that.

  “You break my rules every time you step through my doors.” Victor said it too coolly.

  “We’re leaving,” Cale answered.

  “And you won’t be back,” Victor finished.

  Cale stepped past him and out of the door. The Cave was dead quiet, every dragon watching as Victor followed Cale to the exit. Cale moved with deliberately relaxed steps. One spark, and the whole Cave would go up in flames. They had all come for a fight, and Cale could feel the frenzy of every dragon feeding off of the buzz in the air.

  “We challenge you.”

  Cale spun around, his eyes wide. Rory stood with his arms crossed over his thick chest. He was looking right at Victor.

  The older dragon hissed, smoke escaping his mouth, his eyes narrowing. “What did you just say?”

  “Cale and I. We challenge you.”

  No one had fought Victor and his partner in years. He and his twin, Manuel, were the best. It’s Victor’s club for God’s sake. Cale tried to pull Rory back, but his brother snatched his arm free, still glaring at Victor.

  “You want to challenge me?”

  Rory looked around at the dragons that crowded the Cave. They were leaning forward, their heat filling the room. Rory threw his hands into the air and shouted in red tongue. “What do you say?”

  The dragons roared, stomping their feet against the basement floor, lifting their drinks into the air. They came to see a fight, and the legendary Victor in the ring against the Exiled was more than they could have hoped for.

  Victor glared at the brothers. Everyone knew he couldn’t back down, not after he’d been challenged openly. So they waited for his reply, urging him on with cries of their own.

  “Someone wake Manuel,” he said through clenched teeth. He stepped toward Rory, his glare boring into him. And then, as if his eyes had suddenly been opened, he saw the blue tint of the dragon standing near the doorway.

  The smoke that left Victor’s mouth changed from white to a thick, ungodly charcoal. “You bring this zeiz into my home,” he spat when he said the word. “And you think I won’t spill your blood and have him drink it?” He was only inches from Rory. “You have just made a mistake.”

  Rory did not blink until Victor backed away and left the room, walking with his shoulders squared and his chin high. As soon as he left, Cale shoved Rory as hard as he could.

  “Are you insane? Why would you do that?!”

  Rory shoved him back. “I told you I’d help.”

  Cale wanted to punch him in the mouth. He struggled to keep calm, a stream of dark smoke blowing through his nostrils. “Rory, the whole point of us trying to fight was to win the prize money. Victor can’t compete for money in his own tournament. Even if we win, we get nothing.”

  “How was I supposed to know that?” Rory shouted.

  “You don’t think!” Cale was beyond angry, his eyes rimmed in red. “You don’t think, Rory. You do everything on impulse. If you thought things through, just once, you wouldn’t have made so many stupid mistakes.”

  “At least I didn’t choose to betray my family,” Rory hissed.

  Cale stopped, all the hot blood that had been boiling in his veins froze. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to kill him.

  “The moment I was asked to choose, I was rejected,” he said slowly. “If I stayed in that nest, I’d live my whole life knowing it would be that easy for my own father to throw me away.” He cleared his throat against the pain, hating that his voice caught on each sharp word. “I had no choice.”

  Rory blinked. “That doesn’t make any sense to me, Cale.”

  Cale sighed and buried his face in his palm. They’d had these arguments before, as kids. And it always ended the same way. Cale put his hand on his big brother’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. I still love you.”

  Rory sighed back. “I know.”

  It was that easy. It was that hard. Always had been. Always would be.

  “We’re going to have to do this now,” Cale said. “You know that, too?”

  “Don’t pretend like you aren’t excited.”

  Cale couldn’t help but return Rory’s grin. He looked around, ready to explain to Ava that he’d probably have his skull crushed for the sake of Rory’s impulsiveness. His smile slipped off of his face as he scanned the crowd.

  “Where’s Ava?”

  ***

  Onna put the car in park and killed the lights. Her hood pulled over her head, Ava was eyeing the vehicle that had parked against the curve directly in front of them.

  “Cale’s going to kill me,” Onna said. “I should at least call him.”

  “No,” Ava said. “He doesn’t have to know anything about this.”

  Onna bit her lip as she thought. She couldn’t interpret facial expressions like Cameron could, but she had enough instinct to know Ava was stressed at the idea of talking to the man who sat in the car.

  “Who is this guy, anyway?” she asked.

  Ava didn’t answer. Instead, she opened her car door. “Keep an eye on him,” she said as she walked toward the sedan.

  She tapped on T’s window, and he turned it down. Ava nearly gasped. Black and purple bruises circled his left eye and his nose had been broken again. It didn’t look recent, but it was still jarring. Ava recalled scratching him, maybe leaving a few minor marks. There’s no way I did that much damage.

  “What happened to you?”

  “Got a visit from your boyfriend.” He moved his lips as though his words were bitter on his tongue.

  “I didn’t know anything about that.” When did Cale have time to do that? When I thought he was too heartbroken over the exile to get out of bed? She shuffled her feet. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”

  “What is he, then?”

  The only friend I’ve ever had? My dragon? “He’s just a guy.”

  T’s hands were still on the wheel, as though he was about to take off down the street at any moment. “Well, that ‘guy’ is the best fighter I’ve ever seen. It’s like he’s not even human.” He coughed into his jacket sleeve. “You should be careful.”

  Ava laughed. “I should be careful of him? He’s never even come close to hurting me.”

  T frowned. It took him a few moments to gather his breath. Av
a had never seen him that disheveled, that frazzled before. He looked like he was searching for words.

  “Ava–” he stalled, licked his lips, and tried again. “Ava, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened that night. I was just….I was so pissed.” His eyes flicked up at her. “I mean, I’ve always…you know I care about you. I just lost it for a minute.”

  Ava scoffed. Her memory of that night was clear. She’d given him plenty of chances to stop, including when she yelled it at him. “I don’t care what excuse you give me, T. I’ve had enough of those for one lifetime. Can I borrow it or what?”

  He sighed, letting go of the steering wheel. “Get in and we’ll talk about it.”

  “You must be joking.”

  “Can I at least buy you something to eat?”

  “No.”

  T’s anger flashed in his eyes. “So you want me to lend you a thousand dollars, but you won’t have dinner with me? And you won’t even tell me what it’s for?”

  Ava knew it was a long shot asking him for the money. But Miriam had nothing, the O’Hara’s couldn’t let their mother know they were hosting an exile, and stealing it from Jim would do no good; he was broke too.

  “Look, if you can’t be cool about it, forget it,” she said.

  She was about to walk away when T grabbed her wrist. His voice was low as he spoke. “Just get in for a minute so I can actually talk to you without you running off.”

  This was a stupid waste of time. Ava pulled her hand free and walked as calmly as she could to Onna’s car. Don’t let him see that you’re afraid. Just be cool.

  T slammed his car door behind him as he made his way to Ava. He grabbed her arm again, wrenching it toward him. “Exactly who do you think you are?” he asked, drops of spit landing on Ava’s face. “Do you have any idea how many girls get on their knees and beg me to touch them? For God’s sake, I’m willing to pay for it.”

  But Ava broke his hold on her, stepped down hard on his instep, and drove her palm up into his already broken nose. He cried out in anguish, clutching his face, but he was still faster than she was. He rushed forward, grabbing her by the waist, swinging as he tried to bring her to the ground.

  Before Ava could defend herself, Onna grabbed T by the back of his shoulders and thrust her knee upward into the base of his spine. He was rendered immobile as Onna held him there.

  From the front, Ava threw a solid right into the eye that wasn’t already blackened, then kneed him in the crotch.

  He whimpered as he dropped to the ground.

  Onna kneeled, riffling through his pocket for his wallet. He had way more than she needed, but Onna counted out ten hundreds and dropped his still-fat wallet back onto his chest. Then, she stood up and spit onto the ground beside him. “Pathetic,” she said in red tongue.

  She strutted over to her car and got into the driver’s seat, Ava right behind her. They peeled out into the dark. Onna turned her window down and gave a war cry as the wind whipped through her hair, which was still somehow impeccable.

  “We are so sexy right now,” she laughed.

  Ava was surprised at how good of a mood she was in, despite nearly being assaulted by someone she recalled claiming to be her friend, despite being in a car with Onna. She turned her own window down as the streetlights raced by them.

  “I guess that wasn’t so bad,” she said.

  “It kind of was,” Onna said. “You’re friends with that guy?”

  Ava shook her head. “Not really. He used to be my trainer. Or at least my coach’s assistant.”

  “Gross,” Onna said. Then she looked sideways at Ava. “He’s tried that kind of thing before.”

  It wasn’t a question, so Ava didn’t answer. She put her hand out the window and let the wind run through her fingers. All of a sudden, she wished she was with Cale. She’d forgotten how cold it felt to be without him.

  “I know a lot of guys like that. Reds don’t like to take no for an answer, believe it or not.” She checked her makeup in the rear view mirror. “But I always had Myra…sort of. And the Anders brothers weren’t bad to have as friends growing up, either.”

  Ava never thought she’d be jealous of someone like Onna. The differences between them was insurmountable. But maybe it would have been nice not to be alone.

  “So, you knew this guy was a pig and you still met with him.” Onna shook her head at Ava.

  “For Cale.”

  Onna shifted gears and egged the gas pedal on. She rubbed her fingers against her temple as she leaned her elbow on the door of the car. “The things we do for that kid.”

  Ava smiled a little. She had the feeling that Onna and Cale had shared a lot of secrets.

  Onna flipped her hair. “You want a frappuccino before we face the dragon?”

  ***

  Cale took a moment. He lay on the floor of the Pit and forced his lungs to fill back up with air. Rory sat next to him with a plop, so out of breath that his ragged exhales were all Cale could hear.

  The clock said one minute. One minute before they had to get back up and try to lay Victor and his blonde-headed twin, Manuel, out for good. One minute before Victor and Manuel crushed them into powder.

  “They’re killing us,” Rory said in red tongue.

  Cale sat up, every muscle telling him to lay back down in surrender. Manuel had gotten him clean in the face, tearing the skin just under his left eye. It throbbed almost louder than Rory’s breathing.

  The cage rattled and both boys looked behind them. Cameron had climbed up the chain link fence that served as the Pit’s ring. He hung there like a lizard, watching his brothers wordlessly. Cale and Rory got up and limped over to him.

  “You should get out of here in case things get ugly,” Rory said. “I’m pretty sure Victor wants to kill you.”

  “I deduced enough from his ‘zeiz’ comment, as well as his threatening to spill my blood.” But Cameron dismissed it, still clutching the fence. “You are paired inaccurately,” he said to Cale. “You should take Victor, Rory should take Manuel.”

  Rory scowled. “That doesn’t make any sense. Victor’s the strongest. He’ll crush Cale with his giant ape arms.”

  “Trust me,” Cameron said before hopping off the fence and landing deftly on the ground below.

  That was all Cale needed to hear. “We’re switching. I’ll take Victor,” he said to Rory.

  “You can’t be serious. Cameron may be smart, but I know combat, Cale, and that doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Cameron knows more about combat than you may think,” Cale replied. “And it doesn’t make sense to keep losing. We might as well try it.”

  Rory sighed loudly and walked back to the center of the ring. Cale lingered, leaning against the Pit. He smirked through the cage at Cameron on the ground below. “You better be right.”

  “I am.”

  “Have you heard from her?”

  “Neither she nor Onna are answering their phones. But if you feel no danger for her, I’m sure she’s well.”

  Cale nodded. Hopefully she and Onna haven’t killed each other. He stood next to Rory in the center of the Pit and took a deep breath. Despite the crippling pain, it was a good feeling. He’d fought next to, and with, his older brother since before he could walk. It was when they got along the best. Cale felt like himself again when Rory nodded at him, tapping his forehead with his finger. It meant “stay sharp and follow my lead.” They were going to do something unexpected.

  When the bell rang, he rushed at Victor, Cale right behind him so that it was two against one. Rory swung and Victor bobbed his head, leaving his midsection open for Cale. Cale ducked around his brother and landed two quick jabs in Victor’s abdomen. He listened for the air hissing out of his opponent’s lungs.

  Of course, Manuel stepped in for his partner, aiming for Cale, the one who’d been naturally paired against him from the beginning. But Rory took charge, his heavy fist clambering the slim fighter. Manuel, who was lighter and quicker than Victor, wasn’t accu
stomed to the thunderous strength behind Rory’s blows. He stumbled, almost gagging under the force.

  As for Victor, he had been expecting to block some of Rory’s methodical, weighty blows. He hadn’t anticipated the way Cale danced, his footwork impeccable. Then he faked a punch and threw a spinning back kick against Victor’s chin, temporarily bringing him to his knees.

  The crowd screamed for more as they rushed the Pit, their fingers clawing at the cage so they could see from higher up. It wasn’t every day that a champion like Victor took a hit. Victor stood and spit out a lob of blood and saliva.

  “Stop.” The voice came from outside the ring.

  A collective gasp, followed by whispers of profanities and the sizzle of spit against the ground.

  Mark and Sean held a writhing nightfolk by the arms, Mark’s dragonblade pressed to the creature’s throat. All of the fighters lowered their guards. The entire Cave went silent as Victor opened the Pit’s door and Mark walked the beast inside.

  Cale swallowed. A siren in the Cave? No siren had ever been so bold as to stumble into a roost of red dragons, especially while a fight was going on. It was suicide. He glanced at Cameron and read in his face exactly what he was thinking himself. It wanted to get caught.

  In the glow of the arena, the creature didn’t look so pale. The yellow of the Pit lights played off of its skin, giving it a sallow complexion. It barred it’s fangs as Victor clutched its hair and turned its face up to meet his.

  “How dare you?” he hissed at the creature.

  Cale came up behind Victor. The Pit and the fight had no bearing any longer. The dragons were on the same side again, if only for a time. Pride and prestige could wait.

  A siren had forgotten its place.

  Mark pressed the dragon blade into the skin of the siren’s neck, just hard enough for the creature to hiss. There was fear in its eyes.

  The siren whimpered. “The pearl–”

  Without hesitation, as if he was slicing a piece of bread, Manuel took the knife from Mark and plunged it into the siren’s heart. The creature’s scream was cut short when Manuel’s blade severed its head.