The Dawn of Dae (Dae Portals Book 1)

by Anderson, Trillian

  One day I’d learn taunting the elite wasn’t wise. Maybe.

  Terry Moore scowled. “And what, exactly, do you think I might learn from you?”

  “Basic math skills,” the dean said from directly behind me. “You are in no position to criticize Miss Daegberht, Mr. Moore. You hold the dubious honor of having the lowest allowable grade here. I recommend adjusting your attitude, else you will be restarting your Bach studies from year one. No matter how many donations you give to the college, I will not permit you to graduate to Master studies if you can’t demonstrate a full spectrum of skills. Don’t make your crowning achievement here alienating one of the few individuals who might be able to turn you into something other than a waste of air.”

  When Terry snorted, a plume of black smoke burst from his nose and shrouded his face before rising to the ceiling in a cloud. It stank of rotten eggs.

  Throwing up wouldn’t earn me any points, although if I did, maybe I could claim sickness was responsible for my odd behavior. I swallowed several times to force my stomach to settle.

  “If I were you, Mr. Moore, I would be grateful for the opportunity to convince Mr. Smith you are an asset to his business rather than a liability.” Opening the door to his office, the dean waved us inside. I waited for Terry, careful to keep out of his way so I wouldn’t get burned. He took the seat he had before.

  It smoked beneath him, and the fumes of burning hair strangled me. While tempted to breathe out of my mouth, I coped.

  Kenneth was waiting for us, perched on the edge of the dean’s desk. There was a young man with him who reminded me of my boss in so many ways, right down to the way he smirked.

  “You took your time,” Kenneth stated, his tone devoid of emotion. I tensed, my gaze shifting to my boss’s mouth. His cheek twitched from how hard he clenched his teeth, and he scowled. Picking up a thick stack of papers, my boss slapped it against the dean’s desk. “I want basic information about the people on this list. Their full name, current status, gender, caste, current rank, grades, and study focus will do.”

  “Mr. Smith, this college is not a private investigating service,” the dean replied, and he growled, sounding far more like an animal than a man.

  The young man with my boss straightened, flexing his hands.

  Kenneth tossed the papers onto the empty chair beside Terry. “I’ll settle for whether or not the individuals went missing this morning. There are a notable number of your students in that mess, so I thought it would be wise to use your resources. In exchange, I can provide the same information on some of your more important donors.”

  People were missing? I straightened, staring at the stack out of the corner of my eye. What was going on?

  I cursed myself for not having had time to check the news before leaving my apartment. At least I wasn’t covered in imaginary neon-orange cheese. Once I escaped the dean’s office, I would have to look into what was going on.

  The way the dean frowned promised trouble for someone. Brushing by me, the older man snatched up the sheets, flipping through them. “Since classes are cancelled, I suppose you can make use of my students for the interim, Mr. Smith. I will expect your complete list by the end of the week.”

  Kenneth narrowed his eyes, and for a moment, I feared he’d pull out his gun and be done with the dean then and there. When he smiled, he lacked his normal warmth.

  While my boss often worried me, he’d never made me chill from the inside quite so much. The young man beside him cleared his throat and said, “The end of the week seems right acceptable to me.”

  “Fine. End of the week,” Kenneth grumbled.

  The dean offered the stack of papers to me. In my hurry to leave my apartment, I had forgotten my gloves, and I grimaced at how red my hand was compared to the bleached white of the sheets. “Deal with this.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, tucking the stack under my arm without looking over their contents. “Is there anything else you require of me?”

  “Take Mr. Moore with you, and see if you can make use of him, somehow.” The dean snapped his fingers and gestured to the door.

  I marched out, relieved to escape my boss’s presence, although I loathed the idea of having to dodge Terry and his excessive radiant heat. At least I wouldn’t have too difficult of a time pulling basic information on people. It was the most tedious of the basic of work. Maybe while sniffing around I’d find out why a bunch of people were missing.

  Kenneth had probably concocted the assignment to make use of me while waiting for my downfall. It wouldn’t surprise me if he were the reason for the disappearances—if anyone was actually missing at all. It was like him to set a trap, lure his victims into it, and wait for the fireworks. I sighed, and without waiting for Terry, I headed for the administrative building’s main entrance.

  The feathered panda was still trying to climb the walls to get at the potted bamboo, who catcalled its pursuer. Their dispute quieted at my approach.

  “Some bloke was looking for you,” the plant said, pointing its leaves towards the front doors.

  “Thanks,” I replied, wondering who would be looking for me and why.

  Terry’s heat warned me he was approaching me from behind. Turning to face him, I secured my hold on the papers the dean had given me. He made a grab for them. His heat drove me back, and he pursued me all the way to the foyer, snarling something unintelligible under his breath.

  “I’ll make you a copy. Keep your pants on,” I hissed through clenched teeth.

  The double doors banged open, and I whirled around. The pink-winged werewolf I had noticed outside rose up on his hind legs, fanned his feathers, and breathed fire at Terry Moore.

  Kenneth and his stupid drug-dealing operation were going to get me killed. I avoided incineration by a pink-winged werewolf by inches. Jumping back, I pressed my back to the wall. My startled cry was choked off by the billowing smoke roiling from the flames still spewing from the werewolf’s mouth. All around me, people—and animated objects—dove out of the way, screaming profanities.

  Without any sign of the fire hurting him, Terry Moore stood tall and proud—at least, I think he did. I couldn’t see much through the smoke and fire surrounding him.

  The crested panda hopped to my side and blurted, “What the bloody hell?”

  “It’s an infestation of the British,” I muttered. There was no way I could hide the fact I was hallucinating, not any more. Normal people didn’t cower against the wall watching a werewolf puke flames at an annoying elite. Part of me was jealous; I wouldn’t have minded being in the werewolf’s shoes for a few minutes.

  “Hardly,” the panda replied. “It’s probably not very safe standing here.”

  I had upgraded to sensible auditory hallucinations since my last run-in with narcotics. Did that mean the drugs were working their way through me? Grunting, I adjusted my hold on the papers and considered how to get out the front doors. If I burned to death due to a figment of my imagination, would I still die?

  “Indeed,” I agreed. The flames, the werewolf, and even the panda weren’t real. Steeling my nerves to defy what my misfiring brain was telling me, I headed around the pair.

  Terry Moore roared, halting me in mid-step. Wind gusted through the door, and the fire went out, leaving my fellow student standing on scorched marble. The other side of the hallway smoldered.

  “Really not a good idea,” the panda warned.

  “Is that the best you can do?” Terry said, the scorn in his voice drawing an infuriated snarl from the werewolf.

  “Seemed like a good effort to me,” I muttered.

  The panda didn’t seem very impressed with my comment, jabbing me in the side with his furry elbow.

  The werewolf opened his mouth to say something when Terry Moore burst into a pillar of flame. Heat washed over me, so intense it singed my skin and left my eyeballs dry. I hissed and blinked. The pain didn’t last long, though my skin was smarting and had turned as red as my usual allergy rashes.

 
; Where Terry had stood moments before was a winged lizard covered in hundreds of glittering scales and gemstones. I had always thought dragons would have leathery membranes like bats, but my fellow student had scales shaped like feathers, and they were studded in rubies and diamonds.

  At around two feet in length, Terry didn’t look all that menacing, especially since the bulk of his body was made up of his neck and tail. All things considered, he was rather cute with the added bonus of being decked out in a fortune of jewels. Did I need to keep his hide intact to make the most money out of him, or would popping out the gemstones be sufficient?

  I wondered what I’d really end up with once my hallucinations faded.

  Terry the Miniature Dragon belched fire at the pink-winged werewolf. The werewolf, like any other sensible creature, took offense at Terry’s flames. Maybe my fellow student was a freaking dragon, but the werewolf was larger—and hungry. I flinched at the crunch as the supernatural creature chowed down on an appetizer of scales, gemstones, and dragon meat. When his yellow eyes focused on me, I lifted my hands in a placating gesture.

  “I don’t think that’ll bloody help,” the panda hissed at me.

  Movement behind the werewolf caught my eye, and with his hands in his pockets, Rob strode in, pausing long enough to take in the smoldering walls, the scorched floors, and the werewolf. The tip of Terry’s tail hung out of the side of the werewolf’s muzzle.

  With a snap and a pop, the scaled hide crumbled to dust.

  “You should have kept your hunting to after curfew,” Rob announced, arching a brow at the werewolf.

  What curfew? I blinked. What had I missed after fainting on my kitchen floor?

  The pink-winged werewolf drew in a breath, probably to breathe fire in Rob’s face. Uncertain why, I opened my mouth to warn the infuriating man who had popped out of my refrigerator. Before I could make a sound, Rob had the werewolf’s throat in his hand.

  “You’re too stupid to live.” Rob didn’t raise his voice above a gentle whisper, but his tone chilled my blood. With a twist of his wrist, Rob snapped the werewolf’s neck.

  Like the remains of Terry’s tail, the werewolf crumbled away to dust, which piled on the blackened marble floor. I stared at the mess, aware of the fact my mouth was open but unable to do anything about it.

  To prove things could get worse, Kenneth chose that moment to make his appearance with his new friend following in his wake. Before I could stop him, my boss grabbed hold of my elbow. I hissed at the pressure on my singed skin. My long-sleeved shirt wouldn’t protect me from the oils and sweat on my boss’s hand for long. I jerked my arm in an attempt to pull free, but he tightened his hold on me.

  “We need to talk,” he announced, dragging me towards the door.

  “Hey, wait!” I yelped, making a second effort to escape his grasp.

  Ignoring me, Kenneth pulled me out of the building, down the steps, and to the parking lot where his car waited. That he had a vehicle at all proved his wealth; those from the poverty district couldn’t afford the tests to acquire a permit, let alone a car.

  The sporty two-door marked Kenneth as an elite, just as powerful as the men and women he so often mocked, hated, and ripped off during business deals.

  “Get in,” Kenneth ordered, yanking open the passenger’s side door. “We have a lot to talk about.”

  Someone cleared their throat behind me, and I turned. My eyes widened at how close Rob stood to me.

  “Pardon me, sir,” Rob murmured, taking hold of Kenneth’s wrist and squeezing until my boss released me. “If you have business with her, I insist you take it up with me. This woman belongs to me. It’s rude to touch another man’s property without his permission.”

  Chapter Four

  At the rate I was going, I wasn’t going to survive long enough to worry about the new curfew or any missing people. Kenneth frowned, and I saw someone’s death in his hardened eyes—probably mine.

  Rob took hold of my wrist and stepped between me and my boss. His bare skin touched mine, and I grimaced in anticipation of the burning allergic reaction contact with another person caused. The singes from the werewolf’s flames still stung, but the pain didn’t intensify.

  I stared at the skin of my wrist where he held me, expecting blisters to form. Nothing happened.

  “Excuse me?” Kenneth asked, his tone deceptively pleasant.

  I was right; someone was going to die, and it really was going to be me. Rob would likely die first, but only because he stood in the direct line of fire. Kenneth Smith hated the other elite, but he didn’t kill them off—not often. They paid him too well.

  If I ever got around to telling my boss Terry Moore had gotten eaten by a winged werewolf while masquerading as a dragon, he’d have reason enough to get rid of me. I didn’t have Kenneth’s money or his drugs, and with Terry dead, I likely wouldn’t be able to get either back for him.

  “This woman belongs to me,” Rob repeated, his tone as calm and even as Kenneth’s. “If you have business with her, I’m afraid you’ll have to take it up with me. I will evaluate whether it is in my best interest to permit her to associate with your ilk.”

  “Dae,” Kenneth hissed through clenched teeth. At first, I thought he was saying part of my last name, but there was a subtle difference. When he said it, it sounded more American than German.

  “Indeed,” Rob replied. “This woman is my property. While I may not be against offering you some of her services, they will come at a price. We should discuss this at length—in private, if you please.”

  Services? I opened my mouth to tell them both I had no intentions of servicing anyone when Rob released my wrist and clapped his hand over my mouth. The fear of allergic reaction froze me for a heartbeat. In my desperation to free myself before the rash and blisters set in, I bit down on Rob’s palm as hard as I could.

  His blood tasted both metallic and sweet. Instead of yanking away as I expected, he applied pressure to my cheeks, enough to make me aware of his hold on me. His grip wasn’t strong enough to bruise.

  My tongue tingled, and alarmed, I backed away. Rob released me, and with shaking hands, I touched my mouth, seeking the evidence of blisters I knew had to be there.

  Everything felt normal. Rob’s blood smeared on my chin, evidence I had bitten him. I shook from shock and worry.

  Someone’s sweat dripping on me was enough to cause welts. What would blood do? I hadn’t just been exposed to Rob’s, I had swallowed some of it. I shuddered, wiping my sleeve frantically at my mouth to get as much of the blood off as possible.

  Whether satisfied I’d keep my mouth shut or he stopped caring about me, Rob turned his attention back to my boss.

  “She was mine first,” Kenneth snapped.

  “Irrelevant. She is mine now. Should you desire her services, I’m sure we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement. Your dae should more than make up for her loss.”

  Kenneth’s companion smirked. “Indeed.”

  “Give me the location of your residence, and I will meet you at the top of the hour,” Rob stated, and I got the feeling he’d show up whether or not Kenneth gave him his address.

  Kenneth grumbled something under his breath, but after hesitating a few moments, he pulled out his business card and flicked it in Rob’s direction. Rob caught it between two fingers of his left hand with a movement too quick for me to follow. He tucked the card into his pocket.

  Snapping curses, Kenneth got into his car, waiting long enough for his companion to get into the passenger side before tearing off, his tires squealing. I coughed at the stench of burning rubber.

  “You bit me.” Rob sounded more amused than upset, and when he turned to face me, he was smirking. I took a step back.

  The tingling from Rob’s blood on my tongue had spread to my cheeks, and I flushed at the oddly pleasant sensation. It wasn’t quite a high, but it was close enough. It beat most of the ups cheap narcotics offered.

  I had no idea what sort of hallucinogens Ke
nneth had slipped me, but I would make certain I never had them again.

  Stepping to me, Rob grasped my chin, turning my head side to side. “You have blood all over your chin.”

  I flinched from the expectation of pain, but once again, nothing happened. I was so distracted by the warmth of another living person touching me without immediate, agonizing pain I didn’t pull away like I knew I should.

  Maybe the drugs were preventing me from registering the damage usually caused by someone’s touch. My annoyance at my inability to live and act like a normal person conspired with my unease at being so close to a good-looking man. I snapped, “So what?”

  Rob leaned towards me, looking me directly in the eye, so close I could feel his breath on my skin. “You will learn to keep your teeth to yourself, Miss Daegberht.”

  There was something sexual about the way he murmured my name, and flustered by his tone, I did the first thing I thought of. I kneed him. I meant to hit his groin, but I struck his stomach instead. He wheezed, though he didn’t double over.

  He did, however, release me. I turned and left while I could, my face burning from more than the werewolf’s flames.

  I retreated to the relative safety of my apartment to discover my macaroni and cheese casserole was hard at work scrubbing my kitchen cabinets. The stack of papers slipped out of my numb hands.

  How could a conglomeration of noodles and fake cheese hold a sponge? How did it manage to do a far better job of cleaning than I ever could? The floors sparkled beneath the kitchen’s bright-white lights. No evidence of my dinner’s parkour abilities remained on the ceiling. The cabinets and counters had seen better days, but my macaroni and cheese had worked wonders.

  I closed the door behind me, sighed, and locked the deadbolt and knob. I stooped down to pick up the papers. I had no idea what the deal was between Rob and Kenneth, but I wasn’t going to be stupid enough to assume their dispute would get me out of checking over the list of names the dean had pawned off on me.