Dragon Heartstring

by Cross, Juliette

  “I need you to grasp the hilt with both hands and remove the knife by pulling straight up,” I said to Max. “Not at an angle.”

  Without question, he rose onto his knees, grabbed the hilt, and pulled it free. The wound immediately spurted blood.

  “Oh, God!” shouted Mr. Cade.

  I ignored him and placed both hands on the wound on the left side of his chest, the metallic scent of blood filling my nostrils, a tang on the back of my tongue. Warm and wet oozed beneath my fingers as I pressed my palms hard to the open gash. I sought the cold fire deep within me.

  Whispering an old prayer my Aunt Asheera had taught me, I chanted over and over again, “The world holds the secrets, the sky whispers and breathes, the earth nurtures the old ones, giving life to all she sees.” The burning cold lanced from my core, circled within my breast, and twisted into an inferno. “See him, old ones,” I whispered. “Find him and see him. Heal him.”

  When the fire had been stoked to its fullest, I snapped open my eyes, knowing they were full of the dragon. Still cradling Demetrius’s head in his hands, Mr. Cade flinched backward. Probably for the best.

  I inhaled a deep breath and blew the cold fire, intense and bright, circling the wound repeatedly. Demetrius, even unconscious, arched his back with the pain. For cold fire did cause great pain as it sought the sinews of muscle and stitched them together. Then I did it again, the blue flame pouring like an arrow into the wound, sealing it faster than any I’d ever healed. Demetrius writhed.

  “Hold him,” I urged.

  Max gripped his uninjured shoulder and pressed him down. I sucked in a breath and blew out a third flame, making damn sure his wound was sealed well and good. He didn’t try to twist away this time as the intense suturing had already taken place.

  I sat back, light-headed from expending so much energy.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” said Max.

  We watched as a scar formed over the place where the wound had been. Through the smeared blood, we could see his skin altering beneath, shimmering supernaturally. Taking a cloth from the suture kit, I poured some water from a bottle and wiped the skin clean. There, left behind, was a silver, scaly pattern of interlocking threads. One overlapping the other, weaving into another, with the subtle shape of an anatomical heart, as if it had imprinted what lay beneath his chest.

  The scars from an Icewing healing were different for each person, for each wound. My eyes welled with tears and slipped down my cheeks. For Demetrius bore a scar that mimicked what I felt, what I knew to be true, though we’d never said the words to one another. It was as if the universe cast our stones, and fate had marked him for me just so there was no doubt he held the heart of a dragon within his chest. One that matched my own.

  “Thank you,” came the low, soft words of Demetrius’s father.

  I glanced toward him as he brushed his son’s hair away from his forehead. He wouldn’t look me in the eye.

  “You are quite welcome.”

  The words almost caught in my throat, for this was no common exchange of gratitude. It was the crossing of a bridge that I was proud to have built.

  “Mr. Cade?”

  He lifted his head to me. Tears stood in his eyes. Dashing away my fears and my former prejudices against this man, I summoned what strength I had. Just as I had let go of my prejudices against Demetrius, the man who had won all of my heart, I had to say something to mend the wound still festering inside this man before me. My nature to heal would always win.

  “I do not know what your history has been with Morgonkind. But please, you must know that we are no different than humans. Some of us are trustworthy, some of us are not. Some of us are kind, some of us are not. Some—”

  He raised a shaking hand to stop me. “I know…I know.” His gaze fell to Demetrius again on a sigh, his shoulders slouched forward. “In my world, I’ve learned to act and react quickly to keep the tide of my opposition from rolling against my company and my interests. I’ve also let old memories guide me in all things with your kind.” He patted Demetrius’s head, reminding me very much of the way Lucius had lovingly done the same to Julian in the courtroom. “But I’m getting old. I’m slowing down to look at things more carefully. And there’s one thing I’ve come to understand in my many years.”

  He fell silent, and I thought he wouldn’t say it. Then Max piped up.

  “Mr. Cade, you can’t stop there. Tell us.”

  He lifted his head with a half-smile that reminded me of Demetrius. “That in the grand scheme of things, I really know nothing at all.”

  Max shook his head as if about to say something quite serious. “Well, hell. Don’t say that in public. The stock market of Gladium will crash, and I’ve got my entire retirement invested in Cade Enterprises.”

  Mr. Cade chuckled. “Yes, Max. I’ll keep that bit of information to myself.”

  I smiled and said, “Let’s get Demetrius home. He’ll sleep for a while now.”

  “Get the driver, Max,” ordered Mr. Cade, the commanding inflection back in his voice. “Give him the lady’s address.”

  That made me realize something. We’d never properly met. I reached over and held out my hand. “My name is Shakara Icewing.”

  He stared at my hand for a second then took it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear.”

  My heart leapt with joy for I could feel that he truly meant it.

  Chapter 15

  I leaned back against the marble wall in the back corridor of the courthouse where security had let us enter rather than face the mob again out front. Holding Shakara contently in my arms in this quiet space, we’d said little since I awoke early this morning. She’d fought with me to stay home, but there was no reason. There was an aching pain in my chest, nothing like it would’ve been had Shakara not healed me.

  Shakara. She’d healed me in more ways than one. She’d filled that aching hole of longing. The loneliness had dissipated into the ether when she’d stepped into my life. I leaned in to brush a kiss on her temple and flinched.

  “What is it? Does it still hurt?” she asked.

  I stretched out my left arm then rubbed where the knife had entered my chest. “It’s not painful exactly. And it’s not on the surface. It’s a pulling sensation deep down. Is that normal?”

  Shakara’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to say something then closed it again.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She smiled. “I don’t think that’s from the injury. I’ll tell you after the judgment.”

  Confused, I let it go. I trusted her. “All right.”

  “Hey, you two,” called Max, popping from around the corner. “It’s time.”

  Taking her hand, I led her along the corridor and into the chamber where familiar faces filled the room. My father stood at the Council’s bench speaking privately to Tennison, both their expressions grave.

  “What’s that about?” asked Jessen, suddenly behind us, Lucius at her side but not Julian.

  “I have no idea,” I said as we found our seats.

  Shakara joined me rather than go to her aunt, father, and clansmen seated before the bench. Scanning the room, I saw Aron in the back near the door, minus his hired thug. Trenchcoat was still in the hospital last I spoke to Max. I dared Aron to even look my way after what he’d done. Though ruthless, Aron wasn’t stupid. He kept his eyes front.

  Tennison rapped the gavel several times. The room grew quiet, everyone anxiously awaiting the verdict. This was no ordinary judgment or ruling. It was the first proposal put before Parliament—seventy-five percent of which was human—that ordered the banning of a human commodity in favor of Morgonkind.

  Tennison pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose then took a paper from the councilman on his left. The judgment.

  I pulled Shakara’s delicate hand into my lap and cupped it between both of mine.

  “The Council has heard Proposal eight-one-nine-five, the evidence to support said proposal, the rebuttal, and the judgment
s of the elected members of Parliament. Forthwith is the Parliamentary Council’s judgment upon Proposal eight-one-nine-five.” He cleared his throat. “In order to uphold the sanctioned Dixon Desegregation Act, it has been deemed that the Hydra G-66 is unlawful due to its purposeful harm against a specific race. Therefore, all manufacturing shall cease and desist forthwith.”

  A collective sigh and a joyous whoop echoed around the chamber. I squeezed Shakara’s hand. She beamed.

  “Quiet!” The whack of Tennison’s gavel sounded three times. “Continuing. ‘All citizens of Gladium in ownership of said Hydra G-66 shall voluntarily submit their weapon to the state armory.’”

  A group of men grumbled, including a few Parliament members.

  “I am not done, damn it.” Tennison’s scowl was worse than my father’s. “This is not part of the judgment but has been accepted by Parliamentary Council and shall be recorded. The CEO of Cade Enterprises, Pritchard Cade, shall reimburse Grayson Weaponry and Manufacturing for the current store of weapons at the factory not yet on the market. Mr. Cade also extends an invitation to all employees who shall be displaced or suffer an employment reduction due to this judgment to report to Cade Towers for employment opportunities. Now, damn it, this godforsaken hearing is over. Adjourned!”

  With a final whack of the gavel, we were dismissed. We stood, both of us stunned by the final remarks.

  “Demetrius, your father.”

  “I know,” I said, seeking him out in the room.

  “What in the world was that?” asked Jessen now at our sides.

  “I have no idea,” I laughed. “Come on.” I tugged Shakara behind me, following the figure of my father as he slipped into the corridor.

  We caught up to him near the door right before he walked out into the spotlight of photographers and journalists.

  “Father. Wait.”

  His dour expression was dark and agitated. I kept Shakara close as people jostled around us. “Why did you do that?”

  “What? Compensate that bastard Grayson and his damned son?” He scoffed. “Because I won’t have him hold anything over our family for his financial loss.”

  “But Father, the cost will be—”

  “Not enough,” he said, cutting me off. His frown softened as his gaze slid to Shakara. “Not enough to pay her back for what she did for you.” Then he leveled a steely look at me, his shoulders tightening with the strain. He wasn’t comfortable expressing himself in this way. “But I will gladly forfeit a small share of our profits so the Graysons have no reason to seek retribution upon us. Damn the whole lot of them.” Placing one hand on the lever of the door, he glanced outside to the mob of reporters as Parliament members left the building. “I’ve suffered enough for making the mistake of allying with that damn family. The mistake with Jessen. And I won’t suffer them anymore.” Swiveling back to me, “And besides, Parliament has assured me that I’ll be confiscating the steel once the Volt guns are melted down. I won’t lose all of the money.” He winked. “Best get your girl home, Demetrius.”

  With a small smile for Shakara, he ducked outside to meet the onslaught of reporters who engulfed him as he moved powerfully through like a shark at sea.

  “Your father is a kind man,” said Shakara.

  I laughed loudly then pulled her close and kissed her lips. “Shakara Icewing, I believe you are the first person who is ever called my father ‘kind’ in his entire life.”

  His driver was at the curb and shoving people aside so that my father could duck into the back seat.

  “He has had some misfortune in his life, some other heartbreak. I can feel it like an aura weighing him down. And he has made mistakes, that is certain.”

  “That is certain,” I agreed.

  “What about him and Jessen? Do you think they’ll ever forgive each other?”

  “I hope so,” I said, for I truly wished that to happen. “But it will take more time, I’m afraid.”

  She hugged me with one arm and gazed up at me. “Well, no matter what wrongs he’s committed in the past, he does have a good heart.”

  I scooped her off her feet into my arms. She squealed as onlookers gaped, even her Aunt Asheera, all of them watching me as I paraded down the corridor toward the back entrance.

  “Put me down, Demetrius Cade. Right now.”

  When we rounded the corner, I set her on her feet and pressed her to the wall, her wings spread wide. Cupping her face, I tilted her chin upward.

  “You are the one with a good heart, Shakara Icewing.” I grazed her lips, pried them softly open, nipped gently. “Love of my life.”

  Wrapping her arms around my neck, she kissed me hard, tasting me long and deep as I tasted her, pulling away on a moan. “You have a good heart, Demetrius. My love…my mate.” Her eyes flared with the dragon, brilliant blue with serpentine pupils. She looked exotic and wild. And so very beautiful.

  My pulse beat wildly. “Your mate?”

  “Yes,” she said, sliding her tongue along my lower lip. “If you want me.”

  Grinning, I swept her up again into my arms and carried her toward the back elevator that would take us to the underground garage. She squealed again.

  “If I want you.” Still cradling her close, I stepped into the elevator. “You are my whole heart, Morgon mine. And no one will take you from me.”

  “Good,” she said. “For I think my father may protest the match.”

  She swung her feet as if it were every day a man carried her into an elevator.

  “You don’t think he likes me?” I asked.

  “No. I don’t think he does. You’ve been awfully forward. Not much of a gentleman.”

  “Me? Not a gentleman? When was this?”

  “Oh, probably when you assaulted me with a sexy kiss in front of every parliamentary official in the foyer of the White Chamber. That was the first time he’d ever seen the man my aunt had hinted that I was dating.”

  “You thought the kiss was sexy?”

  She slapped me behind the head. “And then there was just now when you carried me off like a caveman. Rather beastly, don’t you think? And humans say we’re the animals.”

  “When it comes to you, Shakara, I’m reduced to my most primal state.”

  I showed her what I meant with a breath-stealing kiss. She was quiet afterward when the elevator dinged, her eyes dilated and sultry.

  I carried her to the car and set her on her feet, more tenderly than before. “So where shall I take you, Ms. Icewing?”

  “Home, please.”

  “Of course.” I opened the passenger door. “The traffic may be heavy in the Warwick District this time of day.”

  She turned and faced me. I held the door open, my other hand propped on the rim above her.

  “Not to my apartment, Demetrius.” She placed a gentle hand over my left chest where the scar lay beneath my shirt. “To your place. Wherever you are is my home now.”

  And so it was that the man who prided himself on walking alone, who could not see the value in a lover’s embrace, finally found what he was looking for all along—a home of his own in the guise of a bewitching Morgon beauty.

  I kissed her tenderly, relishing the softness of her sweet lips. “Then I shall take you there.” I caressed her cheek with my thumb as I threaded my fingers through her silky hair. “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter 16

  “That’s the last crate,” said Max, checking over the shoulder of the inventory clerk.

  Max had brought several officers from the Precinct to the Grayson warehouse to clear out all of the Hydra G-66. Fortunately, Aron Grayson was nowhere to be seen.

  “Do you really believe that’s all the weapons he has?” I asked, but Lucius answered first.

  “No.” My brother-in-law rolled his shoulders, his wings opening with the movement. “He’s likely to have hidden some stores. But Nightwing Security and officers of the Precinct are dismantling every piece of machinery used to manufacture this garbage.”

  Grays
on Weaponry and Manufacturing had other weaponry and arms. The company would certainly not go under, especially when my father was compensating them for the surplus we were now confiscating to melt down into raw steel. Still, something told me this wasn’t the end.

  I put my hands in my pockets, my fingers landing on the new keys I’d had made this afternoon. Keys for Shakara to our new penthouse. It didn’t take me long after the hearing to convince her to let me buy out the rest of her lease and move into a new place I’d found overlooking the Feygreir Mountains. A view I knew she longed for, to catch a glimpse of her clan’s home whenever she wanted.

  She said she had something to tell me. I had noted the tremble in her voice when she’d spoken of it. She was nervous about whatever it was. I’m waiting for the right time, she’d said. I was fairly sure I knew when that right time would be.

  “What the hell are you grinning about?” asked Max, taking a drag of his cigarette.

  “Nothing,” I replied. “I believe you two gentlemen have this in hand.” I turned toward the parking lot. “Call my father if you need anything.”

  “Why? Where will you be?” asked Max.

  “On vacation,” I called back over my shoulder, striding away.

  “Vacation?” Then he yelled, “Demetrius Cade takes vacations?”

  I tossed a wave in the air with a laugh. Lucius answered him, “He does now.”

  * * *

  I stood watching Demetrius absorb all I’d just told him, the moonlight casting half his face in shadow. We stood on our terrace, the salty breeze kissing our skin. The only sound was that of lapping waves on the beach below. A cloudless, starry sky reflected on the Sorrel Sea, glittering like shards of glass. But as beautiful as the scenery was, nothing could take my gaze from the man before me.

  “Dragon heartstring?” he asked.

  My stomach fluttering, I nodded and waited for his response.

  “So how does it happen?” he asked.