Roaring

by Lindsey Duga

  Fear hit me like icy water. Like someone just dropped me into the middle of Lake Michigan. Was that what I was doing? Was my kiss a death sentence or the grace of salvation?

  He felt the hesitancy in my kiss. “I won’t let you go,” he murmured, thumbs ghosting across my cheeks. His hands gently cupped the back of my neck, tilting my mouth for a light, tender kiss.

  Reassurance.

  My hands released his shirt collar and I wrapped my arms around his neck, deepening our kiss once more. The muscles in his back seized with tension as his fingers traced my spine through the material of the dress the nuns had given me, and then up between my shoulder blades.

  I was aware of every touch, sound, and scent…

  Sweet woodsmoke and coal—the smell of burning.

  Now I knew why he always smelled like that. From the moment I’d approached his table in my little speakeasy, I smelled the dragon on him. In him?

  The scent enveloped me, taking over my mind and senses as I became wrapped in this moment. Threading my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling his whole chest press against mine, and his arms box me in, I felt this ache inside. This desire, and this need, to confess.

  Confess my sin or confess my love? To God, they might be one and the same.

  “Ahem.”

  Colt ripped away from me, nearly stumbling into the opposite wall. My own hands, left empty with Colt’s absence, flew to my mouth as I turned my head to find the priest of St. Agnes standing a foot away, barred entrance to the door because of our…petting.

  My whole body flushed with heat—of the embarrassment kind, not the kind that I’d just been feeling ten seconds beforehand.

  “Good evening,” Father Clarence said kindly, his dark eyes twinkling as he regarded us, hands clasped behind his back.

  Oh God, I was mortified, and yet I couldn’t find an ounce of guilt inside me. Not shame, regret, or guilt…just this inexplicable elation coursing through me.

  Colt dipped his head but said nothing. His wide-eyed stare at the ground told me that maybe, for the first time in his life, he was completely speechless.

  “What a lovely evening, isn’t it, Eris?” Father Clarence said.

  I rolled my lips between my teeth. “Yes, Father, it is.”

  Father Clarence was maybe in his late sixties, with balding brown hair, which he made no attempt to hide. He had small cheaters with thick lenses that magnified dark eyes surrounded by a net of wrinkles, mostly from smile lines, if I were to guess.

  “But getting chilly. So do come inside before you catch a cold.” He gestured to the door with one hand as if to say, after you.

  “Of course, Father,” I muttered, then took the door handle with a shaky grip and pulled it open. With one more glance at Colt, who was still actively looking anywhere but at me, I ducked into the kitchen of the annex, Father Clarence right behind me.

  Colt did not follow.

  I didn’t see him the rest of the evening. He seemed to be avoiding me. I couldn’t necessarily blame him after that sockdollager of a kiss.

  Or…oh, applesauce! What if I was the only one who thought it had been the bee’s knees? I’d never been kissed before, and maybe I’d really been no good.

  At the time, it had felt perfect. But it was so difficult to tell what he was thinking. He hid his emotions behind thick layers while I wore mine on my sleeve.

  Like a coward, I was hiding in the kitchen while Sister Louisa cooked dinner, trying to decide when and how to face him. During my mess of emotions, I’d forgotten that there’d been something he wanted to talk to me about.

  The children also proved to be quite distracting. They filed into the kitchen, eager for food, and I helped Sister Louisa dish out her hearty, aromatic stew and cut up fresh bread from the oven. Eugene got his stew everywhere and it was all I could do not to laugh at his horrid table manners.

  Eventually, after I’d served dinner, I gathered up my courage and went on a hunt to find Colt. We had to talk this time about our next move. I could keep my hands to myself…if he could.

  As I was passing Sister Adaline’s office, a telephone rang. And rang. And rang. Apparently the abbess was not in her office. Peeking through the open crack, I caught sight of the phone. A phone. The last time I’d seen one had been at that gas station, which felt like approximately a lifetime ago. How was Stan? Was Madame Maldu back from New York yet? Before making any decision about it, I was already in the office, at the desk, dialing for the operator.

  On the fifth ring, Stanley picked up. “Helena?”

  My stomach dropped. “No, Stan, it’s me. Eris.”

  “Eris.” My name came out in a whoosh of his breath. I heard a creak through the phone and could picture Stanley dropping himself down onto the chair that Madame took all her calls in. “Eris, where are you?” His voice was tormented, strained, in a way that I’d never heard from Stan before. He was one of the strongest people I knew.

  “Someplace safe, I promise. A church. Where’s Madame? Were you waiting on her call?” The pounding of my pulse drummed in my ears so loud I could barely even make out his next words.

  “For three days. It’s not like Helena to not check in, Eris. I think…I think something happened to her in New York.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Dragon

  I’d done it again. Lost control.

  True, I may not have murdered five people like before, but I’d burned the both of us.

  I could still taste the flames of desire for her in the back of my throat. Still feel her soft skin under my fingers and smell sandalwood and roman candles—the scent of the church all over her. Kissing her was like playing with fire…dangerous, but enthralling.

  I just had to hope I hadn’t ruined this for good. She didn’t seem scared when she slid her arms around my neck or pressed her body against mine. But I had, perhaps unwisely, given her time to think about it. Mostly because I had needed to calm myself down.

  So what if, in that time, she thought about it and realized how…tumultuous that situation had been and how the matter of us wasn’t a good idea?

  Then you’ll just have to convince her otherwise, I told myself.

  As much as I wanted to think about Eris and only Eris for the rest of the evening, the new information from Sister Adaline kept bugging me like an angry gnat.

  This new chimera virus had to be shared with McCarney and the rest of the BOI. I’d meant to tell Eris when I saw her, but we’d obviously become distracted.

  On my way to Sister Adaline’s office, I passed by the kitchen. Eris was inside with the other children. She was serving them dinner and I watched, unable to stop myself from smiling, as she bent down and wiped one of the boy’s mouths—either Kenneth or Eugene—with a napkin. She belonged in this setting much more than a smoky drum. Before she could catch sight of me, I continued on past, slipped into the Mother Superior’s office, and picked up her telephone. After giving the code, I waited for the voice of my supervisor.

  “Mr. McCarney’s office, how may I help you?” a peppy female voice answered.

  “Barb? It’s Colt.”

  She squealed so loud I had to rip the phone away from my ear. “I knew it. I just knew you’d call. Where are you? The whole SOCD is in a downright uproar about you taking out those two agents.”

  “I didn’t take them out.”

  “You put O’Connor in the hospital.”

  A twinge of guilt pinched my stomach as I recalled the briefcase smashing into the side of his face. “Is McCarney there? I need to talk to him.”

  “He’s out looking for you in Philly.”

  I cursed under my breath and pounded the side of my fist on Sister Adaline’s desk, making a pot of ink tremble. Eris and I had to get on the road—and soon. Who knew when Gin’s monsters or BKH could find us again, and I didn’t know the next time
I’d be able to get my hands on a phone. But I needed to tell McCarney of Gin’s experiments on children and this unknown virus that made monster breeding easy as pie. I may have left the SOCD for Eris, and other personal reasons, but they did good for this country. Their methods might be shoddy, but you couldn’t argue with the results most of the time.

  “I need to talk to him,” I repeated. “Can you give me the number of his hotel? Please?”

  There was a moment of silence on the other end. “I was ordered to get the operator to tell me the location of this call. You’re a wanted criminal by the BOI.”

  I figured something like that would happen. Once they got my call they’d trace it from the operator’s switchboard. It would take them some time, but it wasn’t impossible.

  My hands curled around the side of the desk, nearly denting the wood.

  “But I’ll give you a few hours’ head start.”

  My brow furrowed. “Why would you do that?”

  There was a tapping of nails on her desk. “Because I don’t think you’d hurt anyone without a good reason. Even if that reason is a dame who isn’t, sadly, me.”

  I stared long and hard at the wood patterns of the desk and swallowed.

  “It’s the Bellevue-Stratford Hotel,” Barb said after a few seconds. “I hope you’re on our side. Mr. McCarney was mighty upset to hear about…you going rogue.”

  “Barb?”

  “Yes?”

  “I won’t let you down. And you can tell your boss he’s got the best damn secretary in the world.”

  There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the phone. “You’ll have about ten hours before agents are sent to your location. I suggest you use them wisely.”

  Then the phone went dead. Stomach churning, I dialed for the operator again and asked for the front desk of the Bellevue-Stratford Hotel. I waited a long time to be patched through to his room.

  “McCarney.”

  His voice sounded tired, but from more than just physical exhaustion. Weariness. Stress.

  “Sir? It’s me.”

  Shuffling. Banging. A swear amidst the scuffle, then a deep breath. “Colt. What the devil were you thinking?”

  “I was doing what I thought was right,” I said, pressing the phone to my ear and licking my lips. Then I wiped them with the back of my hand, remembering hers there not long ago. “But there’s something I need to tell you. Please, just listen to me.”

  “I don’t listen to traitors.”

  Rage hit me like a blow to the chest. Heat traveled through me, and I blew smoke through my nose, the hot steam curling and twisting in the air. I could still see the look on Eris’s face when she cupped my cheek. Open, honest, pleading, telling me it’s not your fault.

  All my life I’d carried that guilt with me, and now I wondered, how much of it was really mine to bear? The BOI had forced those wings upon me and even though the deaths of those people weighed on my soul, and maybe always would, should they be mine and mine alone?

  I gritted my teeth. No. Maybe not.

  “And I shouldn’t have listened to your bullshit of serving my country, when the reality is you turned me into a goddamn monster.”

  Silence over the phone as I breathed out and breathed in. Calm down.

  “You will listen to me, sir, because I just left Gin at the Cerberus Club and I have information the SOCD needs to know about new advancements in the chimera agent.” I paused, lifting my gaze to the ceiling, watching the smoke break apart and disperse. “Just because my country betrayed me, doesn’t mean I’ll turn my back on innocent people.”

  McCarney snapped his fingers, and I could picture him gesturing to someone for a pad and pencil. “All right, Colt. You have my attention.”

  I told McCarney almost everything, leaving out that I was still with Eris and that she had played such a large role. He needed to know about the chimera agent, the experiments on children, and this strange virus that seemed to affect only them…not about my growing feelings for a woman he considered to be the enemy.

  “We’ll look into it,” McCarney said once I was finally done and practically hoarse. “But this changes nothing. You’re still wanted by the BOI. You and the siren. I know she’s still with you. Whatever your plans are, I’m begging you to reconsider. Turn yourself in now and all could be forgiven.” His voice had that familiar hard edge—that tone I knew so well and once respected.

  “Tell me, what were you really planning to do with Eris?”

  There was a pause. “That was never up to me.”

  “Kill her, lock her up, or use her. Those are the options.” I glanced at the door. Pictured her in the dining room with the kids eating their stew for dinner. “But we both know it was only going to be option number three. So, who gets to make that call? Who gets to say how people should be controlled? Was it the people who said putting dragon wings on a thirteen-year-old was a good idea? I’m not bringing her anywhere near you people.”

  “Colt, don’t make this mistake. You’ll be on the run your whole life.”

  I knew the BOI and the SOCD. Knew how they thought and how they hunted. I could hide forever, but we couldn’t hide from this mysterious creator after Eris who seemed to know her every step.

  So we’d find this man, I’d put a bullet in his head, and then we’d run. And we’d keep running if we had to.

  “What’s that saying, sir? Catch us if you can.”

  Then I hung up.

  I left Sister Adaline’s room and was climbing the stairs when I heard the telephone ring incessantly. Was that McCarney calling me back? But how’d he get my location so fast? I retreated back down a few steps and was surprised to see Eris disappear into the office I’d just left. I frowned. What was she doing in there?

  The Blind Dragon.

  Of course. It was foolish for me to assume she’d never try to check on the people and the home she left behind.

  I started back down the steps to tell her that the SOCD would be scouting The Blind Dragon to see if she came back or contacted them. Knowing McCarney, he had someone casing the joint for good measure.

  I very much hated the fact that I had to tell her that. Especially since I’d just convinced her not to run from me in an attempt to keep me safe. If there was one thing I hoped our…our tryst in the hallway had done, it was convince her that there was something between us. Something that I wanted to keep, protect, grow.

  I’d only just reached the office door when Eris ripped it open with a large whoosh. Her eyes were wide and her hair looked wild, like she’d just threaded her fingers into her curls and tugged.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked immediately.

  She didn’t even seem surprised to see me at the threshold, she just gripped my forearms tightly, her fingertips digging hard into my skin. “Madame—she’s gone!” She sucked in a breath which bordered on a gasp and a choked sob.

  Dammit. I should’ve thought about this sooner.

  “She’s been gone for three days, without a word. Stan said she went to New York to look for me. Oh, Colt, what if something happened to her? What if—”

  “Slow down,” I said, placing my hand over one of hers on my arm and gently squeezing her fingers. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll look for her.” I wouldn’t promise her that we’d find her, but we could at least look.

  Eris blinked, tears clinging to her lashes. “We will?”

  I guess our decision was made. I nodded. “Of course. We have to go to New York anyway. BKH has to be in Manhattan and it’s our only clue as to who’s after you.”

  She took a deep breath, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “If…if anything happened to her, I…”

  “You can’t think that way,” I murmured, winding my arm around her waist and pulling her against my chest. Her lips, nose, and cheeks were warm and wet through the soft fabric of my shirt as she pr
essed her face right near my heart. “We’ll leave as soon as possible and we’ll look for her there.”

  “And how will you get there?”

  For the second time, Eris and I were interrupted, turning to find Sister Adaline standing at the end of the hall.

  “Train is fastest,” I said.

  “Yes, but to get to the train you’ll have to go back through downtown Chicago. The place could be crawling with Gin’s minions looking for you.”

  Damn, she was right. Gin would ensure the odds would be against us. And it wasn’t as if Lady Luck had been on our side lately.

  “I can get you safe passage across Lake Michigan to Michigan City. There’s a train depot there with a rail straight to Manhattan.”

  It seemed like a solid plan, one with the possibility of fewer monsters, which was extremely attractive.

  “How soon can we leave?” Eris asked. I glanced down at her, strengthened by the conviction and the intensity of her voice. She was much stronger than she gave herself credit for.

  “Leroy owes me a favor. I just have to make a call, but,” Sister Adaline said, glancing between the two of us, “he likely won’t want to sail at night. First light is probably the earliest we can make it. It’s late tonight already, perhaps we should…”

  “Please call him now,” Eris said.

  Sister Adaline’s spine straightened, eyes dulled, and then stepped into her office purposefully, the door closing behind her.

  “Oh no,” Eris whimpered. “I just used my voice on her.”

  While we waited silently in the hall, I kept her hand in mine, rubbing the back of her knuckles every so often with the pad of my thumb. I couldn’t think of anything to say that would offer her any consolation. I wasn’t very good at shedding guilt myself.

  Finally, Sister Adaline emerged from her office, her face grave. “You leave at dawn’s light.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Siren

  Our departure an hour before dawn was without much ceremony. With the exception of Sister Louisa and Father Clarence, no one saw us out. The children were still in bed, and I wanted to keep it that way. Saying goodbye to Kenneth, Marion, and Eugene would’ve been too difficult and it wasn’t something I could easily explain. Especially when the truth was that I would’ve loved to stay with them.