by Livia Quinn
Mr. Jackson studied Ryan with his shrewd dark eyes, then he said, "Boy, I might be old, but my bullshit meter still works. What's goin' on?”
Chapter 17
What's a moat?
“If something's happened to Jack, my Inez is going be real upset,” Phineas added.
Ryan glanced around and said, "No, no, you misunderstood me, sir. There's nothing wrong…"
"Guess I'll just get back to my raking," Jackson said, a militant sparkle in his eyes.
Ryan sighed, thinking why not? He said, ""Look, keep it on the down-low but I've lost contact with him and the last time I talked to him he mentioned seeing River. It's urgent that I find him." He cocked his head and asked, "Mr. Jackson. Are you working here?"
"Inez and I are the beach caretakers." Phineas said shortly, eyeing Ryan suspiciously. With a sullen grunt, he grudgingly continued, "I haven't seen Jack since this morning when he went into the Moat."
Ryan said, "What's a Moat?" Something went across Phineas' expression like a wispy cloud passing in front of the moon. He knew something. "Jack…" he began.
"I told you what I saw, deputy." The old man's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What'd you say your name is?"
"Kirkwood, Mr. Jackson. I'm Deputy Ryan Kirkwood. I need your help. I haven't been able to reach Jack so if you know where River is, I need to talk to him," he added.
Phineas hesitated only for a second then he pointed toward the wall of rock at one end of the beach.
Ryan looked at the rocky face of the hill, which was out of place on the shore. "What is that?" It didn't fit into the landscape, the black rock incompatible with the topography in southern Louisiana. He turned back to Mr. Jackson. The old man's eyebrow rose and he nodded in the direction of the wall, go on.
Ryan looked back at the hillside, gave his head a shake and set out, certain it was a wild goose chase. But as he walked, he noticed more detail, a wooded area at the rear of the promontory where the beach curved. He followed the sandy path around the corner of the rock wall and there in front of him was an opening with seven strange symbols carved into the stone above it.
He glanced over his shoulder to see if Mr. Jackson was still there watching him, but the beach was deserted. Where had the old man gone? That was strange, but so was this stretch of beach. The ground pulsed beneath his feet, like there was a generator underground, which didn't make sense. Not for a small scruffy island in the middle of the lake.
But the vibrations that rose from his boots and up his legs were not his imagination. An opening appeared in the side of the rock. A cave? Cautiously, he approached the entrance but was stopped by some kind of force field. He frowned moving forward—and was again brought up short. He couldn't see it, but when he put his hand out, he felt an invisible barrier. Beyond the obstruction was a dark tunnel.
Ryan uttered a curse. Why had the old man even told him about the entrance if there was no way in? He got his answer when the barrier he was leaning on disappeared and he rolled across the hard-packed ground into the tunnel. Two large booted feet appeared in front of his face and he heard a bellowing voice above him. "What are you doing here?"
Ryan rose and brushed his pant legs off before looking up into the face of River Pomeroy. Gads, the kid had grown into a truly big genie.
He reached out offering his hand to River. "I'm Ryan Kirkwood. You're River Pomeroy, correct?" River looked at his hand for a long moment before finally taking it in his giant one and giving it a squeeze. Ryan got the feeling he was holding back since Tempe's brother could crush his hand into dust if he wanted to.
River turned and walked away from Ryan, entering the tunnel beneath the red and black engraved symbols. Ryan's eyebrows rose and he muttered, "You won't find any answers standing out here, Kirkwood." He followed the genie through the cave staying close on his heels.
The tunnel grew darker and darker until it was pitch black. Ryan continued to move forward, his strides short and uncertain, one arm extended, eyes opened wide, as he tried to make out River's form in the inky gloom. After a couple minutes, light returned and the tunnel opened into a large cavernous room that looked almost as strange as some of the watering holes he'd seen in the shelled and war-torn ravages of the battlefield, but nothing quite like this. First of all, the customer base wasn't human. To say Ryan felt conspicuous was like saying Mach 9 G-forces were a little uncomfortable.
The bar, if that's what they called it, seemed to spring up out of the floor, like a giant tree creature. There were about twenty "stools" occupied by some of the strangest beasts Ryan had seen since the Chaos. They bore long tails, furry faces, sharp teeth and scaled wings, and most of them looked at him like he'd be a tasty snack. Thankfully, none of them appeared to be armed, and then he found out why.
River said, "You'll have to check your gun at the door."
Ryan swallowed nervously, watching several of the supes as they turned their intense stares on him. "Uh, you sure about that?" Could he really trust these creatures to keep their distance? They had an obvious advantage. Without his gun, he had none. Would River protect him?
But when he glanced at the wall behind the bar, sure enough, every weapon known to the universe was hanging over the bartender's shoulder, an odd supe in his own right, with what looked like a small snake curled around his ear. He was waiting for Ryan to comply.
River said, "I'm sure."
Ryan slowly removed his gun from the holster and laid it on the bar. The bartender reached with his third arm, picked it up, handling it skillfully, then released it into the air. It levitated for a minute then hung itself on a hook, more specifically, on what looked like a unicorn horn. Wait! A unicorn horn? That had to be illegal, somewhere. Ryan shook himself back to the business at hand and turned to River. "I'm assuming I wouldn't have been able to get in here—"
"Not unless you're escorted," River said.
Ryan's eyes narrowed. "Have you seen Jack?"
"Yes," River said irritating Ryan with his short answers. But he'd never been exactly talkative. "And?" Ryan prompted.
"He was here this morning. It was personal," River shrugged. "Brother-in-law stuff."
"Ah, so he told you about Tempe?" Ryan asked, thinking about the ring.
"Yes, he said she didn't know yet, and I told him to be wary of males around her. It's a problem when Tempestaeries are carrying?"
Ryan's first thought was carrying, as in a weapon and then light dawned and he said, "Wait, Tempe's pregnant?"
River cursed. "Why don't you explain why you're here, deputy," he said sarcastically.
Ryan blew out a breath. What the hell, he didn't see any reason to hide the rest of it from Tempe's brother. "I figured he told you he was going to propose to your sister."
River didn't react, just absorbed the news, but he didn't seem that surprised.
"That's not why I'm here," Ryan said. "I haven't been able to contact Jack and no one's seen him in a couple hours. Was there anything he mentioned? What about this person of interest you asked him about?"
River raised his chin, his eyes narrowing as he studied Ryan. "Not interest exactly." He sounded defensive. "She showed up at the Moat this morning asking about someone and carrying a big sword. She knew how to use it, too. I asked Jack if he'd heard about a new warrior in Destiny?"
Ryan scratched his cheek, "You said she was looking for someone…who?"
"I told Jack she was here…" he sighed, "to kill a dragonhunter she'd followed."
He shrugged. Shrugged. Ryan seethed. What was wrong with him?
"He left after that. I don't know where he went."
Ryan glared at River. "'Ya think you could have just saved me some time and told me all this when I first got here? In case you get wind of any other supe shenanigans, I should tell you the medical examiner's office was broken into. The DNA samples the ME took from the creatures that raided Destiny during the Chaos… were stolen."
Finally, a reaction. River's brows rose briefly then he said, "Is my sister oka
y?"
"As far as I know." Ryan turned and threw up his hand, "Don't go to any trouble seeing me out, River. I can see you're real busy." Ryan ran his eyes across the bar and the empty glasses in front of the genie. Then, he held his hand out to the bartender, retrieved his pistol and stalked out.
Chapter 18
Guess that's what they mean by crouching dragon…fae
The cloud of doom surrounding River seemed thicker after his encounter with the deputy and he stomped out to the beach to try to clear his head. Did he really care what people thought? First, it had been Jack and Ryan venting their frustration with his apathy. Then, the Dragon Lady.
No, he didn't care. Largely, because it seemed beyond his current ability to care but most importantly, he was doing the only thing he could think of to protect his family. The Moat was the only place where Styx couldn't use him as a weapon. He hoped. He glanced over at Morpheus' emblems knowing even as he left their protection, he was taking a chance, one that could endanger everyone he loved, yet he had to do something.
Hoping it would be enough to conceal him from any watchers, he cloaked himself in a shadowy zephyr. He'd be ready if or when the titian haired fae showed up to put his plan in motion.
Like the name his mother had given him, he joined with the currents, flowing like a river of air, guided by its boundaries, his course and speed set by the wind in which he glided as it rushed to its destination, invisible to all creatures but his own family. In that moment he didn't care where it was headed as long as it didn't dump him into the lap of the dragonhunter. That thought made him pay more attention to the loops and bends in the wind's course. It rose into the clouds and circled the Isle then took a jaunt toward the north shore before turning back toward the Moat. Even the wind seemed bent on delivering him back to the tavern.
His thoughts strayed to the fae warrior as he steered around toward the backside of the Moat. Why did she think she had a chance against the dragon hunter? Was it arrogance, confidence in her skills with that sword? He had to admit she handled it with ease. But she would need more than that to kill his brother. Styx wasn't going to just walk up to her and allow her to take his head.
River didn't doubt she meant to kill him; she must have some trick up her sleeve. But what?
A movement about fifty yards below him—a snatch of red moving through the brush—caught his eye. He focused on the thick palmetto. His pulse sped up. It was her. He fought the forces pushing him in that direction. Several seconds passed in quiet then a long slender leg extended from between some branches and Cinder's red high heeled boot set down carefully onto the ground. One red-gloved hand followed, landing in front of her boot and then she was visible to him, moving on all fours.
He held there, suspended several feet above the ground while she seemingly tracked her prey.
River sighed and followed. In front of her he spotted Styx and one of his men walk below his hiding place beside the Moat's entrance and continue down to the beach. In the shadow of the rocks, River's head snapped around to find Cinder crouched low behind a cattail covered dune, intently watching the three. His eyes narrowed as she twitched like she'd been poked then a frown marred her beautiful face. She turned her eyes toward him. He was invisible but damn if it didn't seem like she felt his gaze.
Spooked, he quickly turned his attention back to Styx who was giving orders. The other two men looked none too pleased by what they were hearing. Finally, they started walking away from the entrance until they got to the high berm where the wooded area met the rocky slope near to the tunnel. One by one they leapt from the beach, grabbing the branches of small trees to haul themselves up and deeper into the forest. River watched silently as they disappeared.
Cinder rose to her feet. She was careful, and to her credit, stealthy. She waited until there was no possibility that Styx or any of his men would return, and seeing no one leaving the tavern, she got down on all fours to track them, like a four-legged red spider.
"Guess that's what they mean by crouching dragon…fae," River muttered as he watched her scent the ground and foliage, like a bloodhound.
She couldn't see him but he didn't want to risk detection by some other means she hadn't disclosed so he stayed upwind. This time she was silent as she made her way through the leaves and bushes like a sylph blending with the natural elements.
So, she hadn't been careless or lying when she said she'd been trying to use the giant decapod as bait. It was obvious she was an experienced tracker. He should have known, given her vocation. He moved through the trees behind her, as one with the breeze. For nearly an hour he followed, until finally, she froze, a predator locked onto her prey.
She'd found Styx. The hair on his neck stood up and River felt a strange sense of disquiet as he anticipated Cinder's next move.
Styx sat on a rock watching his men stomp across the clearing and crash into the wood. River could see no reason for their behavior and guessed they were following Styx's orders who sat deep in thought, running his thick scarred fingers back and forth over the leather rope at his neck.
Cinder rose like a ghostly red specter behind him, and River barely managed to stifle the cry of warning that wanted to escape his lips. Her sword left its sheath with nary a sound as if it was made of air. It drifted purposeful and unwavering into her hands. He'd sensed she possessed some powerful magic and was amazed by the stealth and ease with which she positioned herself behind the dragonhunter. This must be some special kind of magic. River waited, surprised that Styx had not detected her approach. Soon she would put an end to River's worries and the danger to his family.
But she would also slay his only brother.
He held himself rigid feeling a glimmer of pain. The urge to stop her grew, as he was overwhelmed suddenly by regret for a relationship he would never have with this brother. He looked away, clamped down on his tongue to stay silent and steeled himself against the expected sound of sword meeting flesh.
When he heard nothing after several long seconds, he frowned. Turning back, he quelled at the sight before him. Cinder’s arms were frozen above her head, sword gripped tightly in her white knuckled hands, as if she'd pulled them back at the last second. Indecision?
Relief, unbidden and unwelcome, flooded River, but shock followed as Cinder started backing away from Styx one careful step at a time, and when he rose, she ducked behind a huge tree. Styx turned and scanned the area, as though sensing a nebulous threat. Definitely time to exit stage left, River thought. Keeping his eyes on his brother, River watched Styx take several backward steps until he reached the other side of the clearing, then he turned and launched himself into the woods.
"Drakos," Cinder muttered as she sank onto her knees beside the big cypress.
River dropped his cloaking wind and loomed over her. "What the devil is your problem? Why didn't you kill him? I watched you pull your sword, and he just sat there. He was yours for the taking."
Cinder didn't answer, just looked at the ground, then at the giant blade propped on her thigh. "I couldn't…" Her head moved from side to side. Sheathing the sword with a jerky motion, she rose into a crouch, then dropped her head into one hand. Despair coating her words, she whispered, "I must find my brother." Then she shifted, going instantly from crouching spider to red dragon, lifting off the ground without another word to River.
What had just happened? For a few seconds, River had known a glimmer of hope that all his worries over the last months for himself, and more recently for his family, would be gone with a flash of this dragon warrior's sword. Then she'd turned tail and run.
"Efrit, I thought that's what she came here to do." River sank down on the rock where his brother had perched moments before. His brother. No. His enemy.
Why hadn't his parents told him and Tempe about their brother? River was no longer the naïve boy he'd once been. He'd learned through a fire of sorts what lengths the various species would go through to usurp power from those weaker than themselves. He thought that's what the
Paramortal pact was about—protecting humans and other weaker species from creatures like Styx.
If Dutch found out about what was going on, he'd be here trying to end it himself. River must prevent that, because Styx would almost certainly use his nuclear option then. River needed to know more. If he could locate the imp he might find a solution without it getting back to his brother, or his father.
What was the power that emanated from Styx like a force field? Could that be the reason Cinder didn't act? Had she been controlled or repelled by it? River let himself be carried along on the currents as he searched for signs of the red dragon. Finally, realizing she wouldn't be found until she wanted to be, he headed back to the Moat.
Chapter 19
Two dragons flying over Destiny in broad daylight would cause a stir, ya ken?
The ground shook Montana's stone house, sending ancient artifacts on her wall crashing to the floor. She snatched up her sword and crouched in a fighting stance, but Conor rose and lay his big hand gently on her arm. "It's Cinder. Something's amiss."
Conor opened Montana's wide front door to see Cinder pacing back and forth across the front yard, her claws churning up huge clods of gumbo. Montana wouldnae be happy. Cinder spotted him and turned away, trying to hide her distress. It was worse than he thought. "Wee yin, do you wish me to change?" Sometimes in dire emergencies it was better to communicate as dragons but Cinder stopped mid-stride, tilting her head briefly, dejected, then shifted. As soon as she hit the ground he was beside her, heard her whimper as she buried her head in his chest.
"Cinder." He stroked her hair cupping her neck so that she would feel his strength. Anger rose in him swiftly, "Who hurt ye?"
Her muffled voice came from under her hair, "No one." She raised her head, and the sight of tears on her young face made him feel helpless. "Oh, Conor. I failed."
