Fated for the Dragon

by Zoe Chant

  His heart tightened as he spoke.

  Had it really been six years since they had died? At some times it seemed like it had been an eternity ago – at others, only yesterday.

  He could still remember the way Adriana had smiled as they had left the house that day, telling him to take it easy on his morning run, and to make sure he was in the office by nine. He had been working in the Vallas Shipping accounts office that summer, to prepare him for taking over the company some day.

  Little had Isaak realized that, by that afternoon, the company would be his.

  Pain sliced through him, and, though he made no sound, Josie looked up at him, her expression alarmed.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Isaak looked down at her in surprise. “I... yes. I’m fine. Some of these memories... they’re not what you would call pleasant.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said at once. “I’ve been asking too many questions.”

  Isaak shook his head. “No. It’s not that. I don’t mind.”

  There was silence as they walked for a short time. They had left the docks, and came out onto the streets of the small coastal town of Chora. Isaak could see Josie’s head darting this way and that as she took in the beauty of their surroundings, from the whitewashed buildings that extended from the street to far up the mountainside, to the perfect blue of the ocean.

  It was just coming into tourist season, and Chora was only just now beginning to be ‘discovered’ – the streets were busier than Isaak remembered them, with more restaurants and shopfronts than before. The cobbled streets were bustling with life and beauty, with families shopping and green trees swaying in the gentle wind.

  Lattices draped with flowering vines provided shade to diners enjoying wine, olives and bread, along with the plentiful seafood dishes that made up the traditional food of this area.

  “Wow,” Josie murmured as they passed by one such restaurant. “That food sure does look good.”

  “Would you like to stop here?” Isaak asked.

  “I want to stop everywhere,” Josie said. “Everywhere looks amazing!”

  Isaak laughed – he couldn’t help it. Her enthusiasm was completely infectious.

  “Then we can stop everywhere, asteri mou.”

  Josie glanced up at him. “What does that mean?”

  Sucking in a breath, Isaak drew his lips into a tight line. He hadn’t meant the term of endearment to slip out – it had almost seemed to happen of its own accord. “It’s Greek. It means ‘my star’.”

  “I like it,” Josie said at once, her eyes twinkling like the stars he had just named her after. “And yes, to answer your suggestion – I would like to stop everywhere.”

  ***

  “Oh. Oh my goodness.” Josie licked her lips, sighing in contentment as she sat back in her chair. They had just finished scraping out the last creamy flesh from the lobster’s bright red shell – and this was after a sumptuous feast of saganaki fried cheese, marinated olives, fresh octopus, spit-roasted lamb, and light, crunchy zucchini fritters.

  Isaak had told Josie the Greek name for each dish as it had come out, and she had gobbled them all up in turn with relish, making delicious sounds of pleasure as she tasted each one, closing her eyes to savor them.

  The sight of her enjoying herself so sensually, so unselfconsciously was... slightly more of a turn-on than Isaak had expected. He shifted a little in his seat, hoping the tablecloth would conceal the obvious bulge in his pants.

  “That was amazing,” Josie said as she ran her fork over the plate, chasing down the last of the garlic and wine sauce the lobster had come served in. “I haven’t had food like that in years.”

  Isaak smiled. “We’re very fortunate here. We have the sea on one side and the mountain on the other. Everything here is as fresh as it can be – and when you have such good ingredients, complicated recipes aren’t always necessary. Simple, wholesome food is what’s best.”

  Josie laughed, shaking her head. “You sound like my grandma. She was always worrying about me, trying to make sure I ate enough. I think that’s the only reason I didn’t starve to death in graduate school – she always seemed to know when I was down to my last packet of ramen, and insist I drop what I was doing and come over.”

  Isaak found himself laughing along with her. Slowly, as the day had gone on and they had moved from tavern to tavern, shopfront to shopfront, he had found his anxiety about being away from Calauria dropping away from his heart.

  Being with Josie made being back on the mainland an adventure – something pleasurable, instead of something fraught and dangerous. The crowds didn’t oppress him like they had the last time he was here. The beast within him seemed to have curled up and gone to sleep. It was no danger to anyone right now. Josie, somehow, had tamed it.

  For the first time in six years he felt... free.

  “Do you want any dessert?” he asked playfully as Josie sighed in contentment, patting her belly. “Or are you satisfied?”

  Josie sat up straight, her eyes shining. “Dessert? What kind of question is that?”

  Grinning, he nodded. “All right, yes, I acknowledge my foolishness. Let me just –”

  Isaak’s words were cut off as two giggling children raced past him, cavorting through the restaurant without taking the slightest notice of where they were going. A waiter carrying a plate of calamari had to quickly sidestep in order to avoid being barreled into.

  “They should watch where they’re going,” Isaak said, shaking his head, as a waiter came to take their dessert order. “What would you like to try?”

  Josie’s eyes flashed mischievously. “Oh, you know me – I like a little of everything.”

  Isaak tried to hold back his groan as the waiter arrived at their table. How was it that she could drive him so crazy with only a look? If things went on like this, he really would have to suggest they find a hotel...

  But first, dessert.

  He took her at her word, ordering her a little of everything – Greek yoghurt with honey and walnuts, sweet, syrupy samali with pine nuts, flaky baklava, and bougatsa – delicate parcels of pastry filled with creamy custard and dusted with sugar. He was starting to remember his own sweet tooth – something he had indulged, perhaps, a little too much before he had gone into his voluntary exile on Calauria.

  Surely it couldn’t hurt, he thought, as he watched the slightly surprised waiter making his way back to the kitchens with their order. Surely it couldn’t hurt to want something again...

  “Oooh, look!” Josie said, pointing excitedly to where a waiter was carrying a large wooden board, containing two pans with flames leaping up from within them. “What’s that?”

  Isaak grimaced a little. “Fried cheese, doused in ouzo and set alight,” he said. “Very nice showmanship, but a little dangerou–”

  Just as he spoke, the two children from earlier reappeared, laughing and chattering. The older one seemed to be playing a game of keep-away from the younger one, holding a stuffed bear above his head and leaping up whenever his smaller brother came near.

  “My bear!” the younger boy called out, laughing. “I want him! Give him back!”

  “No!” his brother shouted, leaping higher. “If you want him, you’ll have to –”

  In the moments that followed, Isaak felt that he was seeing things in slow motion.

  He saw the waiter with the hot, flaming pans, the children laughing and jumping, and saw what would happen in only a moment’s time if –

  Standing, Isaak moved forward without the need for conscious thought. Behind him, he heard his chair clatter to the ground, and saw the heads of the other diners turning in his direction.

  He felt as if he were moving on pure instinct, and faster than he realized was possible.

  Even then, he was an instant too late.

  The older child jumped up, flinging his hands back... and hit the waiter carrying the flaming pans squarely in the back.

  The pans jumped up from the board as the wai
ter stumbled, the flames wavering wildly as he struggled to regain his balance.

  By now, Isaak could hear the other diners gasping in shock as they realized what had happened... and what was about to happen.

  Despite the waiter’s best efforts, one of the pans slid from the board. The pan itself – heavy cast iron and burning hot from the stove – spun in the air, before beginning to fall towards the table, and the people sitting at it.

  No. No!

  Isaak flung out a hand, catching it before it could complete its descent.

  He expected to feel his hand burning with pain, but instead, he felt nothing.

  It’s the adrenaline, he thought, as he curled his fingers around the handle, making sure he held it securely – only a few inches more and it would have fallen directly onto the head of a grandmother sitting with her family.

  But after a moment, there was still no pain.

  Isaak stared at his own hand as chaos erupted around him – the two playing children beginning to cry as they realized what they had done, waiters rushing to and fro with frantic apologies, diners standing and demanding their checks.

  “Oh my God, Isaak!”

  Josie’s voice cut through the confusion of sound in an instant, her hand on his arm. When he turned to look at her, he found her eyes wide and frightened.

  “Quick – put it down, put it down!”

  Isaak heard Josie’s voice, but he didn’t react immediately. Instead, he simply stared at his hand where it still clutched the pan, not trusting himself not to drop it.

  “How can you – can’t you feel how hot it is?” Josie asked, sounding breathless. “If – if you can’t feel it there might be nerve damage, you have to put it down, now!”

  Swallowing, Isaak allowed Josie to lower his arm until the pan lay on the table, her fingers pressing against his. He realized that when he opened his hand, there was likely to be a severe burn on his palm and the inside of his fingers – Josie was right, after all, and numbness likely indicated that his nerve endings had been damaged.

  “Josie,” he said, gritting his teeth, “don’t look.”

  “I have a strong stomach,” she said, but he saw her swallow heavily.

  He opened his hand.

  Chapter Nine

  Josie

  Pulling in a sharp breath, Josie braced herself for whatever she might see when Isaak opened his hand.

  She’d seen injuries before, sometimes even severe ones – they were an unfortunate fact of life with fieldwork, especially when working with young, sometimes overly enthusiastic students, who had a tendency to overestimate their bodies’ abilities.

  Not that that was what had happened here at all. If Isaak hadn’t done what he’d done, the burning hot pan, filled with flaming cheese and liquor, would have slammed down on an innocent old lady’s head, causing the kinds of burns that made Josie shudder to think about.

  He’d put his own safety on the line to protect someone else – and in doing so, had probably left himself with some horrific burns, that would become terrible scars.

  It doesn’t matter, Josie thought. Even with scars, he’s still himself – and he got them saving someone else. And if he needs a nurse while he heals –

  She felt like she was prepared for anything as Isaak uncurled his fingers.

  But she found that she was prepared for anything except this.

  Because Isaak’s hand was completely and utterly unmarked.

  His palm looked exactly as it had only a few moments before, when he had reached across the table to cover her hand with his. While the skin was lined with the faint marks of calluses, it was utterly unburned.

  Speechless, Josie could only stare down at it in disbelief.

  But... how?

  “Oh –” she said, as she suddenly worked it out, and relief flooded through her. Clearly, the pan wasn’t as hot as it had seemed. Perhaps it was some kind of special pan that – it looked like cast iron but really it was –

  “Ouch!”

  Josie jerked her hand back as the tip of her finger brushed against the pan’s surface. Staring down at it, she saw a circle of red appearing on her skin, despite the only momentary contact she’d had with it.

  She blinked.

  The pan was clearly still hotter than hot. It had burned her even though she’d only touched it for an instant.

  But that means...

  Slowly, Josie raised her wide eyes to Isaak’s face –

  – Only to find him staring down at his hand with a bewilderment that equaled her own.

  “Isaak,” she breathed, barely trusting her own voice. “What did – how did –”

  Before she could get any further, a voice by her side made her jump.

  “Sir! Sir!”

  Josie turned, her heart in her throat, to see a man standing beside them. After a moment of confusion, she realized he was one of the people who’d been sitting at the table that had so nearly come to disaster.

  “Sir, I want to say thank you. Your quick actions saved my mother.”

  Blinking, Josie looked past him to where waiters and family members were fussing over the old lady who, if not for Isaak, would have been so badly burned.

  The man had an English accent – they must be a family of tourists, she realized, as he thrust a hand into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

  Belatedly, she realized that Isaak had closed his hand again, as if to hide the fact the pan hadn’t seemed to have hurt him in the slightest.

  “It – it was nothing,” he said slowly, as the tourist began removing several fifty euro notes from his wallet. “Honestly. I don’t need your money.”

  “Nonsense. You’ll certainly need hospital treatment for your hand. I want to see to it that you get the best care available. Please – my money is the least of what I owe you. Take it.” He held out a handful of cash.

  Josie glanced at Isaak to find his mouth pressed into a thin line. How to explain that no, he didn’t even need some topical cream, let alone a hospital?

  “I have money,” Isaak said finally. “I... I promise you, I can pay for anything I might need myself.”

  That, at least, was true, Josie thought, her head spinning.

  The man looked skeptical, but, seeing that Isaak was not going to take his money, he withdrew his hand a little. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Because I feel you deserve some kind of reward. What’s your name? You ought to be recognized for your heroism, at least. I can write to a local newspaper, your member of parliament...”

  Isaak shook his head. “No – no, that really won’t be necessary,” he said forcefully, before swallowing and obviously reining himself in somewhat. “I only did... I only did what anyone would do.”

  Josie glanced back to where the old lady was still being fussed over. She was clearly unharmed, aside from being a little shocked. In the background, she could see a woman – clearly the mother – ferociously scolding the two children whose unthinking game had caused the trouble.

  She could see the English tourist was about to argue or to insist that he be allowed to do something to show his gratitude, but Isaak cut him off before he could speak.

  “I – I’m sorry. I’d better go... see what I can do about my hand,” Isaak said, his voice low in his throat, emerging only as a throaty growl. He glanced at Josie, and for a moment she could see in his eyes so much pain and confusion that it hit her like a body blow.

  A moment later and he was gone – moving like the wind past them and out into the street.

  The English tourist looked surprised, shaking his head. “How odd.”

  Josie swallowed. What just happened? And how could it be that Isaak’s hand didn’t get burned?

  Experimentally, she moved her own hand closer to the pan where Isaak had left it on the table.

  Even a few inches away, she could feel how it still radiated heat.

  How can this be?

  “I – I have to go,” she said, her thoughts in a whirl.

  And with that, sh
e turned and raced after Isaak.

  Thankfully, she could make out his broad back as he moved through the relatively sparse late-night crowd.

  “Isaak!” she called out to him, weaving through the people, most of whom were making their way back to their hotels or homes after a day or sightseeing or working. He didn’t turn. “Isaak!”

  At last, he seemed to hear her, and his head jerked around. Her breath catching in her throat, Josie ran the last few feet to his side.

  “Isaak, what – how –”

  She stopped, not sure how she should even phrase her question. She looked down at his hand again. Catching it between her own, she raised it to her face, inspecting it in the low light of the street lamps.

  It still showed no signs of damage whatsoever. With a burn as bad as that, Josie would have expected redness, peeling skin, terrible blistering... but there was nothing. Nothing at all.

  “Isaak, how did you – you’re unbelievably lucky that you –”

  Isaak shook his head, drawing his hand away from her.

  “I... suppose so...” he said, looking down at his palm, flexing it, as if he expected at any moment for the burn to appear.

  Unease flooded through her.

  Was there something Isaak wasn’t telling her?

  Sucking in a breath, she tried to smile. “So... have you always just had an incredibly tough hide, or what?”

  Isaak glanced at her, confusion in his eyes, as if he hadn’t heard her properly. A grim smile tugged at his lips.

  “Perhaps,” he said.

  Oh no you don’t, Josie thought. You don’t get to pull being all dark and mysterious right now!

  “Well, something happened that meant you didn’t get burned by that unbelievably hot pan,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. “I felt it – it was hot enough to leave a mark on my finger after a split second. So either you’ve got asbestos skin, or... or...”

  She stumbled to a halt. Or what? It wasn’t like there was any rational explanation for this!