Games of Fate (Fate ~ Fire ~ Shifter ~ Dragon #1)

by Kris Austen Radcliffe

  Penny said something about vodka.

  Rysa jumped down and stood next to Ladon. She touched his elbow to say thank you. To let him know she appreciated what he did, even if Penny didn’t. He looked down at her hand.

  Penny’s sapphire gaze darted between Ladon’s face and Rysa’s fingers. Each time her eyes dropped, she sighed. Not a loud sigh, or a defeated one, more of an inaudible groan. Her body made the motions of a sigh—the contraction of the stomach, the drop of the shoulders and the tightening of the neck—but Rysa didn’t hear it.

  Penny sneered and ‘spite’ hit Rysa’s tongue. Too sweet and too salty, it made her gag.

  Penny raised her hand and a crocked finger pointing first at Rysa, then Ladon. “He used to kill your kind, Fate. Slaughtered them in the streets. Cut them down like the rats you are.”

  Penny’s sneer said it all: Rysa was supposed to gasp and cover her mouth, maybe faint, too, for good measure. Put on a grand show to justify Penny’s ill-will.

  Rysa had already driven a wedge between herself and Ladon. She wasn’t someone he might care for, so Penny could say anything, exaggerate everything, and it wouldn’t change what-will-be.

  But the inevitability of sex still confounded Rysa. Would it be pity sex? A one night stand decades from now when this was over? She hoped it wouldn’t be hate sex, like what she glimpsed with Penny.

  She wouldn’t be able to handle hate sex.

  If she became the weird random thing fate wanted her to be—the Ambusti Prime, her mom called her—the Burner Fate incapable of controlling herself and who burned cities, he’d hate her.

  “Are you going to help me or not, Shifter?” The ‘spite’ she tasted coated her own words.

  “Rys?” Ladon touched her elbow, her wrist, her fingers. He tried to learn from her skin again, to listen to what her body told him. “Beautiful, are you okay? You’re acting dazed.” He sniffed the air. “Penny!”

  “I’m not doing it! She’s the freak, not me, you fool.” Penny’s voice carried much more information than simple words. Her voice carried ‘fear.’ “I’m not doing anything to her!” She stepped toward her muscle car’s door. “Fucking Fates. You’re worse than Burners.” She reached for the handle.

  Dragon placed a hand on the door. He didn’t growl, or flash, but he put enough pressure on the car that it rocked upward. A loud creak erupted from the underside.

  Penny’s voice modulated. “Dearest heart, it’s okay. I brought you oranges. I have a whole bag. Just for the one I love.”

  Dragon swung his head between Penny and Rysa, then back to Penny. He lifted his hand off the car to sign. Are they Cara Caras?

  A brief wave of ‘puzzlement’ rolled from Penny. “What are those?”

  My favorite.

  An almost inaudible Heh came from Ladon. “Do what’s been asked of you, Penny.”

  The whipping in Rysa’s head started again: For a split second, Penny’s car looked as if someone had poured gasoline on the hood and set it ablaze. Rysa heard the crackle, smelled the acid. Felt the heat.

  Her entire front screamed like someone had pressed her against a hot stove. She looked at her hands. No blisters, no fire. But it crawled, the burning. It crawled over the car and she felt it as if it crawled on her.

  Rysa screamed.

  Ladon swung her into his arms. “Penny!”

  Rysa heard Dragon growl. She saw a flash, and Penny appeared in her field of vision.

  “I won’t help a Fate! I won’t—”

  The metal of Penny’s car shrieked. Dragon dragged his talons down its side, gouging deeply, and curls of turquoise paint dropped onto the dirt.

  “Not my baby!” Penny shook her fist at Dragon. “May the old gods eat your soul, you foul beast!”

  The fire in the vision—and Rysa’s skin—sputtered.

  “You want to keep the roof, you help her right now!” Ladon yelled like a general.

  “I hate this,” Rysa whispered. Was she really on fire? Was that stupid car on fire? Did that bitch really shake her fist at Dragon? Who did that?

  Another gouge. More car curls hit the gravel.

  “Stop! Stop!” Penny’s hands wrapped around Rysa’s face. She leaned close as her voice took on the same magical information density it had before. “You are clearheaded and in control.”

  ‘Calm’ and ‘clear’ wafted into Rysa’s nose.

  I’m clearheaded. Rysa inhaled deeply. Stop whipping! she yelled at her nasty. I’m in control. Not you. No more burning!

  Ladon dropped her legs. “We felt that.” But he kept his arm around her waist. “Are you okay?”

  The tentacles folded away. She still felt them, but they listened. Stay. Weird as it seemed, she pointed an imaginary finger at the imaginary nasty thing in her head. It seemed the best way to deal with it.

  For the first time, it heeled.

  Penny backed away but Rysa’s nasty yipped. Rysa grabbed the Shifter’s collar. “Say ‘You will always be clearheaded and in control.’”

  Penny clamped her mouth shut.

  Behind them, Dragon leaned onto the muscle car’s hood. It groaned.

  “Okay! You will always be clearheaded and in control!” Penny slapped away Rysa’s hand.

  Dragon lifted his talons.

  The bitch ran for her car, swearing loudly at both Ladon and Dragon.

  24

  As soon as Penny pulled away, Rysa’s seers popped a vision into her mind: One very perplexed farmer wondering if he’d been visited by aliens. She didn’t know if it had happened, or would, but the prudent thing to do was to not be around if he came looking.

  Ladon helped her into the van and they pulled off the gravel road onto the county highway. She should feel better. When the vision of the farmer came to her, she controlled it, and even though she smelled his aftershave, it didn’t overwhelm her, and she stopped it when she’d gleaned what she needed.

  “You’re okay now?” Ladon looked her up and down. “You look okay.”

  She nodded instead of answering, knowing she’d say something stupid if she opened her mouth. Something like “I want to kiss you.”

  “Do you want to rest? You should rest. Then practice. Your seers shouldn’t come uncalled. Your talisman might be chaos but it’s the filter, not the camera.” He nodded, obviously more for himself than for her. “You may be the Ambusti but you’re still a Prime and with practice and dedication, it won’t feel nasty anymore. It won’t control you.”

  Did she infect him again through their connection? He talked fast and a lot more than usual, like her.

  “You’ll be okay. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Nothing.”

  She wasn’t so sure about “practice and dedication.” But Ladon and Dragon seemed willing to help. Maybe she hadn’t completely scared them off.

  Maybe they could be friends. But if she did something stupid, she’d ruin it. So she tried very hard to smile and hold still. “I can’t believe Penny shook her fist at Dragon.”

  After a long moment of staring at the road, Ladon chuckled.

  I have had many fists shaken at me. Dragon dropped his head onto her lap again.

  She couldn’t bounce in her seat while he held her in place. She scratched his eye ridge.

  “Fists, sabers, an entire coliseum’s worth of swords, a couple of trebuchets, pistols, machine guns and oh—” Ladon glanced at Dragon. “—Do you remember when that Shifter shook an entire tree at us? A whole tree. Strongest Shifter we’ve ever met. That’s rare.” He smiled at Rysa.

  She’d melt if he kept it up. Right here, in the passenger seat of his van. She’d turn into a puddle of Rysa and that’d be the end of it, so she hugged Dragon to distract herself. “I can’t believe she called you a foul beast. Who calls you that?”

  Dragon pulled back so she could see his hands. I have also been called a foul beast many times.

  “You are not a foul beast. You’re beautiful and wonderful and you’re special.”

  The pulse of light from Dragon
might blind the oncoming traffic, if there’d been any.

  She was talking too much again. She bit hard on her lip and slapped her hand over her mouth. What did she just do? She’d tried to be careful, but no, she had to babble. Her mouth just ran and ran and Ladon would start sighing any minute now.

  But he didn’t. He gripped the steering wheel while pulsing information to Dragon. The beast put his head on her lap again and they drove in silence toward a glow on the horizon.

  “Do you want to stop? I think we should stop.” Ladon pointed up the road.

  The outskirts of Council Bluffs manifested up ahead. Random suburban streets jutted out of the cornfields like the ground had a rash. A shopping center loomed just off the road.

  “Are you hungry? I’m hungry. There’s an app to find places to eat.” Ladon pointed at his phone where it rested in the cup holder.

  Happy for a distraction, she picked it up. The screen came to life. “It’s on? I thought it gave you a headache.”

  “It does.” He shrugged.

  “You don’t need a headache, you know.” Not because of her.

  An app window popped up. She tapped at the screen. “Is this thing tracking local cell phone calls?” He had spyware on his phone. “This is seriously illegal. You know that, right?”

  A cocky grin appeared. “So is having three assault rifles and a barbed whip under the floor. And two handguns, three swords, and seven daggers.”

  Dragon’s hand appeared between the seats. Eight.

  “Eight daggers.” Winking, he shrugged again.

  “Does it pick up state trooper calls?” She tapped again and the “key terms” search box appeared.

  “Already is. It’s monitoring everything within six hundred miles.”

  Sword popped into her head along with train and unauthorized vehicle. She tapped in the words without realizing what she was doing.

  “There’s a grocery store.” Ladon pointed at a sign. “We can get Dragon dinner.”

  She returned the phone to the cup holder. “You’re okay with it on?”

  “It’s fine. We should let it be, in case.” He pulled off the highway and turned toward the mall. “We can tolerate some whining, right?”

  Dragon grunted.

  “There’s one of those big electronics stores.” He pointed through the windshield. “You need a new phone. For emergencies. We’ll put you on our data plan.” He nodded toward the store. “Or Derek will. It’s not a problem.” He pulled the van into an open space near the rear of the parking lot and shut off the ignition.

  Share a data plan? Heat blazed across her cheeks and she squirmed, unable to hold herself still.

  Ladon inhaled sharply and glanced at Dragon. “We have something for you.” He dug in his pocket.

  Her heart skipped. What if he had a key to another car? Was he telling her to go on her way?

  “We thought you might want to wear your mother’s talisman. It should help you see her, when the dust is out of her system.” Her mother’s bracelet draped off his fingers. “Now that your seers are calm, you can start feeling for her.”

  A black leather strap wove through the chain.

  “As soon as you sense anything—anything at all, no matter what or when—you tell us. We’ll go straight away.”

  Tied into the leather were two entwined dragons of silver and gold.

  “We stopped the chaos of your talisman from completely randomizing your seers and we will stop the War Babies from taking your mother. I promise.”

  “Oh.” He said something about her mom, but she didn’t really hear. The emblem drew all her attention. “What is it? It’s gorgeous.” Squinting, she peered at the detail worked into each beast. Braided ridges rose along their backs. Six talons graced their hands. “They look like the dragons Marcus wears.”

  “It’s a Legio Draconis insignia. The man who forges my weapons puts them in the hilts. My nunchaku, as well.” His fingers danced over the edges of the insignia. “We thought you might like one. As a balance to the burndust.” His fingers touched the link around her wrist. He paused for a moment, touching the metal.

  The little dragons astounded beyond any piece of jewelry she’d seen, much less owned. “He makes them for you?”

  Very gently, very carefully, Ladon touched her skin. “I smith them. When we’re home. The dragons always touch the metal as it cools, to bless the emblem.” Below the link, he clasped the chain. Working quickly, he tied the thong. “There.”

  Ladon fashioned the insignia with his own hands. She should be happy to have her mom’s charm, but this—the little dragons warmed her soul as much as the beast himself. “It’s for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is why you wanted to stop?” He wasn’t going to kick her out of his van.

  He looked puzzled. “Yes.”

  “Really?”

  His eyebrow arched. “You seemed surprised.”

  He wasn’t mad about her out-of-control behavior.

  Ladon stroked the back of her hand before nodding toward the store. “That, plus Dragon’s hungry.”

  A seer-tentacle reached out, responding to his touch. But it didn’t whip in the gross way her seers had before. It mimicked Ladon’s touch, stroking the river of energy between Ladon and Dragon.

  What if she started siphoning again? Her nasty might have calmed down, but she didn’t understand how her abilities worked, or what separated them, or if the siphoning was something else. She yelled at it in her head. Stop!

  But Dragon reached out to her.

  Her whole body tingled as vivid globes with a distinct citrus scent appeared in her mind. Brilliantly colored like the sun, and with a perfect, ripe texture she felt with six fingers. They fit in her hand—his hand—the way a grape fit in hers, but he flipped more than one in his palm, checking their rinds for variations. A swipe of a talon and Cara Cara juice sprayed into the air.

  “Oranges!” Actual oranges, like she held them herself. “I saw oranges!”

  Ladon’s eyes gleamed as bright as the beast’s images. “He’s been trying.”

  Dragon nuzzled her side and flashed more oranges into her mind. Rysa can hear me now that her seers have calmed. He knocked Ladon’s shoulder as he signed, as if to say Told you so.

  Another flash with Cara Caras, and also kale. “You’re amazing! And hungry.”

  Ladon scratched at his messy hair. “Phone first. Then dinner. You can practice while we eat. Do you feel up to shopping?”

  “I think so.” She kissed Dragon’s eye ridge and laughed when he sparkled. From outside, the van must have looked like someone inside was setting off flares.

  She tapped her cheek, examining Ladon’s faded black t-shirt, as she popped the latch on her door with her other hand. “Why do you always wear black? I’m buying you something plaid.”

  Ladon hopped out and rounded the back corner of the van to open the door for Dragon. “Why would you do that?”

  The invisible beast rubbed against her side as they waited for a couple of teenagers to walk by. She leaned toward him to keep her footing and was sure she looked quite bizarre to anyone watching. “Because the monochrome is, well, monotonous.” Though the ominous overtones suited him. It balanced the messy hair.

  “I don’t like plaid.” Ladon frowned. “Highlanders wear plaid.”

  “What’s wrong with Highlanders?” She poked at his shoulder.

  His lips bunched up.

  “You’re embarrassed.” She smirked. “What did you do?”

  Dragon pushed an image into her head: Ladon, drunk, holding two mugs of beer or mead or whatever Highlanders drank in one fist, swinging his arm and bellowing like a fool. He slapped Dragon, goading the big beast into compliance. Dragon, annoyed, covered himself with a complicated plaid pattern as much to shut up his human as to prove his mimicking skill.

  Rysa doubled over laughing.

  “Dragon pushed it to you, didn’t he?”

  An outline of a dragon hand flicked Ladon’s sh
oulder. He staggered to the side, frowning at the air next to him.

  “I saw it!” Rysa snorted. “He’s still irritated.” Tears clung to her lashes. “Okay, no plaid.”

  Ladon pointed toward the store, smiling like a little kid. “Let’s go.”

  “Were you wearing a kilt?” Surprised by the image, she doubled over again. More laughter erupted.

  “No.”

  “Yes, you were!” She’d seen it in what Dragon pushed to her. “How did you get a black kilt? Aren’t they all plaid?” She followed Ladon through the lot, skipping over a pothole. “Is it true what they say about kilts and—”

  “I will not talk about Highlanders.” He marched off toward the building.

  “Do you still have it?”

  On the sidewalk, he turned toward her again. “What?”

  “The kilt.”

  He tapped his elbow. “No. But I do have my claymore.”

  “What’s that?” Dragon nudged her forward and she moved toward the entrance.

  “My really big sword.”

  Laughter burst out again and she bent over in front of the entrance, right in the middle of traffic. “Well, I would hope so.” It felt good to laugh. Snorting again, she shook her head. “Really big, huh?”

  He stood in front of the store smiling his brilliant smile, handsome and wonderful and happy.

  “You know—” More laughter bubbled up. “—there can be only one.”

  He pulled her toward the doors. “Only one what?”

  “Oh, we need to get you some movies.”

  ***

  Ladon had managed to lift some of her gloom. She accepted the insignia and now she laughed. He made her happy.

  Dragon hung from the wall inside the main door. It is noisy in here.

  Ladon tugged Rysa toward the inner door. “We need to hurry. Dragon says it’s loud in the store.”

  They stopped next to the carts. Her scent curled around him, a layered bouquet that held his senses. Her skin glowed, a vision of the jasmine and mist-under-the-moon he pulled in with each inhale.