Dragon Slayers

by Kristin D. Van Risseghem

  Staten jogs after his Level Three squad. They are all heavily armed, wearing the same black fatigues. I wring my hands, worried for my boys.

  When did I start thinking of Manny and Bronx as that?

  “Ready Level Two?” Mr. Morris asks. “We’ll spread out, but stay near each other. No wandering off by yourself.” He takes out a large tablet and checks the settings. I’m close enough that I can see the screen with tiny red dots moving down the streets. There is a small cluster blinking. I turn to stare at the near street sign. Oh, that’s my group still stationed. “Let’s move,” he says.

  The students fan across the street from sidewalk to sidewalk. Noelle and Sax go to my left, Reist is on my right. They have bows and arrows, and I managed to grab a crossbow and quiver. The familiar bounce against my back eases the shaking in my legs. It’s not normal for dragons to be out in broad daylight. Something must be going on with their pride.

  In the way we were trained to do, half of the Twos split and run on River Street, while the other half, that I’m part of, goes back toward Macombs Dam Bridge and up Jerome Avenue. We dodge the many vehicles and people walking the sidewalks. Again, thankful for our magic that keeps us hidden.

  My eyes are alert and dart all over the place. I still haven’t seen Manny or Bronx, and I hope that they’re safe. They do have a year more experience than me, but I can still worry about them. They aren’t infallible. In the year I’ve kinda gotten to known Manny and the days that I met Bronx, they have both wiggled into my life and I can’t—won’t—think about them not being there.

  We are close to Mullaly Park. The sprawling trees and the green soccer field loom ahead. The smell of chlorine from the pool wafts into my nose.

  My classmates filter in and surround the park’s edge. In the center are a few Level Three students. They are walking toward two large, black dragons. Weapons pointed and ready to fire, but they don’t. The dragons have bodies in their clutches.

  Is that? It can’t be. How did they get here so fast?

  The human form laying motionless in the dragon’s grasp is recognizable. “Bronx!” I’d know his body anywhere. His stocky frame. His brown, wavy hair.

  If that’s Bronx, then the other must be Manny or Staten.

  “No!” I force my way through the Third Year line and run toward the other body.

  “Noelle, wait!” Reist calls and snags my wrist, stopping me.

  Manny is lying a few feet from the smaller dragon’s head, near his fallen brother. Upon closer inspection, I realize that the animal looming over Manny isn’t black but navy. Does it matter what color he is when my boyfriend might be dead?

  “Bronx!” I yell. “Can you hear me?” The dragon’s eyes flick to my voice. A low rumble emits from its chest, protecting its prey. I turn my attention to my boyfriend. “Manny?”

  “Do something!” someone shouts.

  “We can’t,” Mr. Morris says. “Not as long as the Third Years are so close. We will not lose fighters this way. Everyone stand down. Lower your weapons.”

  No one is going to do anything? That is not acceptable. My magic flares as I gaze between my boys, Staten, and all the Twos. Blue-green light flares around me.

  A growl breaks my focus for a hair’s breadth. I meet the dragon’s jade eyes. They seem familiar. Where had I seen eyes that color before?

  Smoke fills the air. The dragon holding Bronx is ready to send a fireball. I have no idea what I’m doing, but if no one else will even try something to save them, then I will.

  Cyan flames soar from my palms and sails toward the black creature. He stops opening his mouth, and then snaps it shut. My magic didn’t do anything, I don’t think. His eyes narrow on me, then drop to Bronx’s form. Again, his jaw opens, showing long teeth. It’s like watching a slow-moving film. Claws circle around Bronx’s body and he’s lifted into the air. The dragon’s mouth opens. A large tongue rolls out from behind the massive teeth.

  No way, Bronx is mine. The dragon can’t have him. Without thinking, I run toward my Skills instructor. How stupid, Brooklyn, you don’t even have a shield to protect you from fire, too late to turn back now. I slide to Bronx’s body, keeping an eye on the dragon.

  Slowly, the claws release and Bronx falls the short distance to the ground. The talons retract and move away. The animal adjusts his stance and then takes off into the air. Wings flap sending a strong breeze down, almost knocking me on the grass.

  An ear-piercing screech sounds from the departing dragon. Must have been some sort of signal. The navy animal hovering over Manny lifts to the sky. No one fires any weapons at their retreating forms. They are too far away now, anyway.

  “Bronx?” He’s bleeding through his T-shirt. “Hold on, I’m going to get you help.” I spin my head to find Staten behind me. “You have to help him. I’ll go check on Manny.” Without waiting for an answer, I dash over to my boyfriend and lay a hand on his cheek. “Can you hear me?”

  A flurry of activity happens all at once. Students rush forward surrounding each fallen teacher. Some kneel and offer assistance. Others watch the sky, weapons ready, in case the dragons come back. Staten tells someone to dial Mr. Morris to ready the vans.

  “Yeah. I’m okay.” He smiles at me and then it fades. “Bronx!”

  “Hey, shhh. He’s getting help. Staten is with him.” He tries to push me away. “You need to stay here while someone looks after you.”

  “I need to be with him, check to make sure he’s okay.” Knocking my hand away, he stands.

  I watch him wobble as he shuffles to his brother. I follow.

  “Hey, dude, can you hear me?” Manny asks. “You better be okay, so I can kick your ass. You know you’re not supposed to go anywhere without us. What were you thinking?” He pokes him in the ribs, and leans next to his ear and whispers something.

  A grin stretches across Bronx’s face as his green eyes flutter open.

  “What did you say to him?” I ask Manny.

  “Nothing important.” He pats his brother’s shoulder as if everything is right again with them.

  “Bronx?”

  “Yeah, Sweetheart?” He reaches for me and pulls me down next to him.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” I wipe the tears streaming down my face.

  “You missed me that much?”

  “Don’t do anything like that again. Don’t you go dying on me.” I hit his arm. He winces. “Oops, sorry.”

  “Will you kiss all my boo-boos away?” He waggles his brows. And Bronx is back to his old flirty self. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a sore body tomorrow.”

  “Join the club. You’re the one who decided to go all Nazi on our asses in training today.”

  “So that’s a no?”

  “Yes, that’s a no!”

  “Wait. You said yes?” He winks.

  “No, I didn’t.” I stand. How can he be so infuriating? Manny is laid back, even keeled. I think I like him better. At least now I do.

  “Yes, you did.” Bronx leans forward into a sitting position. “I clearly remember you saying yes.”

  I shake my head and walk away.

  The spot on the ground is replaced by Staten. “Quite torturing her,” he says. “We need to get you and Manny back to the academy.

  “Everyone, get back to the pickup location,” Mr. Morris says. “I’ll call for the buses.”

  Most of the class slowly walks back the six blocks to the stadium. I linger in the back with Noelle and Sax. Reist goes ahead and joins a couple of his guy friends. Daggers protrude from Staten’s eyes as he looks between Manny, Bronx, and myself.

  I will be getting answers tonight. My magic throbs in my fingertips. That’s never happened before, usually I feel it all around my body. Then a thought occurs to me. If it’s in my hands, then maybe I can direct it to my ears and listen to what the boys are whispering about.

  My ears tingle and sounds sharpen.

  “What were you thinking?” Staten asks as he hoists Bronx
under one arm while Manny grabs his other.

  “We had a plan,” Bronx says. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “Barely.”

  “Everyone’s safe, now,” Manny says.

  Plan? Did they know where the dragons would be? I don’t think their plan worked out well. Manny and Bronx both are injured. Manny just had scratches and minor bruising, but Bronx got the worst of it. His ribs might be broken, he sports a gash along him arm, and from the looks of his feet dragging along, something might be wrong with them, too.

  My poor boys.

  After I take a shower, clean up, and dress in comfy clothes—yoga pants and a T-shirt, I wander aimlessly around campus. Pulling out my cell phone, I text Manny.

  Me: Are you OK? Where are you?

  Manny is nowhere to be found. He never responds to my text, and I can’t GPS him. He must have his phone turned off. An hour later, my feet unconsciously carry me to Bronx’s dorm door. Since I have his phone number programed into my phone, I GPS his location. When I entered the med-bay, the nurse told me Bronx checked himself out. Men. After we returned to the school, Bronx was carried to the medical wing.

  Raising my hand, I knock. Footsteps sound. Boroughs, he shouldn’t be up walking around. The door opens, and Staten fills the space. “Where have you—” He stops talking. Being the tallest brother, my head tilts back to take in his long form. “I thought you were Manny. He’s supposed to be ... never mind.”

  “Who is it?” Bronx asks.

  “Who do you think?” Staten raises his arm and blocks my entry.

  “Well, don’t stand there being an idiot. I know you can’t help being a dick, but let her in.”

  I duck under his large arm and ignore his glaring eyes. Bronx is lying on his bed. He takes up most of it and makes the full bed look tiny. He’s shirtless and his midsection is wrapped with white bandages, along with his arm.

  He attempts to rise, and I rush to him, forcing him back down. “If you want me on my back, you don’t have to ask me twice.”

  “Bronx.” Then I hear the door click shut, Staten leaving me alone with him.

  “I wanted to check on you.” I wring my hands. “Med said you refused to stay. Why?”

  “I’m fine, Brooklyn.” He winces. I know he’s lying. “You can be my nurse now, though, if you want.”

  I shake my head. Even now, he’s still flirty. Some things never change. His room is much smaller than mine. It’s neat but has a lot of stuff scattered everywhere. Sports posters of football (Giants), the American kind, hockey (Rangers), and baseball (Mets) plaster the walls. A football lays on his desk, while a bat leans against his closet. A stray shirt peaks out from a drawer left slightly ajar.

  When I look back at Bronx, his eyes are closed. I should let him rest. I only wanted to make sure he was all right. Since Staten was here, he was being attended to.

  I turn to leave and let him sleep, but his hand seizes mine. “Don’t go.”

  “You need to rest and recover.”

  “I can do that with you here, too.” He pats the bed. “Come, sit next to me.” I gulp. After all the crude remarks, I think I’m exactly where he’s always wants me to be. Next to him in bed. “How are you doing?” he asks.

  “I’m not the one laying in bed being nursed back to health.”

  “So, you are going to nurse me? You know,” he lifts his finger and points to his lips, “these are a bit sore.”

  “From kissing other girls.”

  “Not since I’ve met you.”

  “What, two whole days?” I laugh.

  “Something like that.”

  “How do you feel for real?” He snatches my arm with surprising strength for someone wounded, and brings me to his side. I stretch my body against his. Hmm. This feels nice. “I was worried about you.”

  “I’ll be fine by tomorrow. If you’re thinking I’ll go easy on you in Skills, then you’ve got another think coming. Bet that I can still take you down.”

  “Don’t say that. You need to take it easy. I should go. Manny hasn’t texted me back, and I’m concerned about him.”

  “He’s fine. Staten knows where to find him.”

  “He hates me you know.” I turn my head and find him gazing at me. Our mouths are inches away. My chest rises and falls quickly.

  “Who? Staten? No, he doesn’t. Once you get through his trust barrier, he’ll be forever by your side. He’s the most dedicated of brothers you’ll ever have.”

  “Including you?” His breath blows into my face, spreading warmth to other places in my body.

  “Maybe even more so.” His lids sluggishly close and his breathing slows. “Stay.”

  It’s not a request but not a command either. Maybe a plea? His body is hot and with me pressed against him, I’m cozy and comfortable. I shut my eyes and drift to sleep.

  When I wake sometime in the night, green gems stare at me. Even in the darkness, I’d know who is near me by Bronx’s spearmint scent. Our legs are entwined. His hand lightly rests across my arm that’s securely around his waist. He blinks. I do the same.

  “It’s nice waking with you still here.” He squeezes my elbow. “I thought you’d sneak off at some point.”

  “You wanted me to stay,” I say. “Besides, I was tired and lying here next to you just seemed like where I was supposed to be. Do you need me to get you anything? Water? Change your wrappings?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “What? No snarky comment?”

  He beams. “Well, if you want to see more of my impressive chest, you can unbind me from these.” Pointing to the white material, he waggles his brows. “Actually, there should be some pills on the dresser that the doc said I should be taking.”

  “No problem.” I gingerly ease out of the bed, careful not jostle him and walk to the bureau to get the prescription. Looking around for a glass, I don’t see anything.

  “No need for water.”

  “Here you go.” I drop two white pills into his waiting hand. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “Are you leaving?”

  “I can stay, if you want that.” He nods. “Is there anything else I can do for you while I’m up?”

  He flattens his lips and then looks at the ceiling. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this before, not sure of himself. “Would you be able to put the covers over me? I’m a bit cold.”

  “Do you think you can sit up?”

  “Probably not, but maybe I can roll over and you can grab the sheets.”

  “Okay, let’s try that. I’ll help you first.” Gently, I grasp his shoulders and lean him away from the wall to face me. He doesn’t wince, but from the slight clench of his jaw, I know he’s felt a muscle twinge. I grab the blankets and yank them down as quickly as I can, so he can roll back flat against the bed. “You still okay?”

  He nods.

  Lifting the top cover, I place it on top of Bronx’s body, adjusting my T-shirt since it crept up.

  Bronx pats the bed. “It’s too late for you to go back to your room.”

  My hands fuss. I’ve never stayed in a room all night with a boy before. It’ll be fine; we’ll just sleep.

  The sun has not risen yet, but what wakes me is the incessant pinging from my phone. Reaching over to the nightstand, I look to see who in the boroughs is being so annoying at four-thirty in the morning. Dang, Noelle.

  Noelle: WHERE ARE YOU???

  I glance at Bronx who is still sleeping. His breath is slow and even, and I also notice that he’s lying on his side with a leg between mine, an arm over his head, and the other gripping my hipbone.

  Swiping the screen to return a text, I type:

  Me: At Bronx’s. Don’t even go there. Nothing happened. He’s hurt, so I stayed with him.

  Noelle: Are you coming to History?

  Me: Yep, I think so. Magic class for sure, and Bronx said to be ready for skills b/c he’s not going to go easy on us.

  Noelle: Eeks!

  Me: We have to chat l
ater, too.

  Noelle: YES WE DO!!!!!!

  Me: Not about what you’re thinking.

  Noelle: YES WE WILL!!

  “Who is that?” Bronx’s thick voice tickles my ear. “Is it that boy?”

  “Who?” I squeak. My heart beats faster. He’s supposed to be sleeping.

  “The one who has the hots for you?”

  “You mean Reist?” I lay the phone back on the nightstand. The glow from the screen is the only light in the room. “It’s not like that between us. We’re friends.”

  “He know that?”

  “Doesn’t matter. He knows I’m dating Manny. Why? Are you jealous?”

  “Of Manny, no.”

  “I meant Reist.” He doesn’t elaborate. “Why not Manny?”

  “I’ve told you. What you do with him on your own time is fine with me. He and I are family. We’re used to sharing.”

  How strange. Who can share a girl? And they’re brothers. “Even girls?”

  “If that’s what it takes to be with you, then yes.”

  “But he’s not actually your brother, is he? Isn’t that meant figuratively?”

  “Manny, Staten, and I grew up together, went to school, spent holidays with each other, then we enrolled to York. When we all became Kill Shots, we had that in common, too. So, having a relationship with you and you having one with Manny is no big deal. I’ve known him my whole life.”

  Okay. Well, it’s not fine. It’s different. Just because I’m not used to sharing a guy with other girls, doesn’t mean that it’s wrong or bad. It’s just not the normal way of a relationship. But who am I to judge what’s normal. “You seem better. Are your ribs still hurting as much as they did yesterday?”

  “They were only bruised, so I’ll heal fast. Plus, with a bit of magic from Staten and myself, I should be good as new by the end of today.” His hand leaves my hip and travels under my T-shirt and up my stomach, fingers brushing my bra.

  My body tenses, and the butterflies in my stomach are doing summersaults. “Really? Our magic can do that?” Heat rushes to my face.

  “You’ll learn a lot more this year as you move into the practical and not theoretical side of it. And by the time you’re a Level Three, you’ll either master it ... or not.”