by Hati Bell
“No need to fuss about it. They’re placed in such a way that they don’t puncture any vital organs. I’ll live. I think.” His little “I’m-so-tough” speech ended in a cough.
She swallowed when she saw blood trickling down his thighs. “How can I help?”
“You can’t.”
She used her phone to check the rest of him and swallowed. The same iron bars were placed right through his upper thighs. “What kind of sick person impales someone on a barrel?”
“A sick fuck who knows my weakness,” he replied.
She saw it happen right before her eyes. Little cracks formed on his skin, like with glass in extreme cold. Despite her thick wool jacket she felt a chill go up her spine. “So, cold weakens you?”
“Only when I have pieces of iron stuck inside me. My body can’t transform into dragon mode then and stays completely human. A bloody cold human.”
Her phone traveled from his legs to his chest and face. Her stomach knotted in fear and she dashed back, her breath forming little puffs of vapor in the cold air. “You have a tattoo on your chest.”
His gaze turned into a blank expression. “Yeah.”
“A red dragon, with a diamond in his jaw.”
He laughed without humor. “But Grandmother! What big eyes you have! But Grandmother! What big teeth you have! Have you found your answer? Am I the big bad wolf in your story? Have you finally found a reason to hate me, Little Red Riding Hood?”
“Cut it out with the sarcasm, okay?” She knew what the tattoo meant. Judging by his words, he knew as well. It was the tattoo of the gym murderer.
Suddenly the lights went on and she heard someone enter the cellar. A part of her expected to see Zacharias but it was another dragon who walked up to them and stood still in front of Logan.
“Feels a bit nippy in here,” he remarked.
His left eye had a patch. The light from behind him should have given his golden hair an angelic glow, but somehow made him eerie.
Amber took a step back, uncertain what to do. She was surprised when Logan didn’t react. He stoically stared at the wall. Guess introductions were up to her. “Who are you and what do you want with Logan?”
The man turned towards her, as if only now remembering she even existed. “A listening ear to the message he has refused before.” He turned his gaze back to Logan. “This is your second and final chance. Break your tie with Drake Kincaid. A bond with him means a bond with Alec Kincaid. It’s time you remembered where your loyalties should be. Blood is thicker than water.”
Logan didn’t react. Amber was starting to get worried when he didn’t even have a snappy comeback.
“You have to let us go. They’ll be searching for us,” she pleaded.
The man simply ignored her and put his hand on one of the iron bars piercing Logan’s legs. Logan paled and drops of sweat formed on his forehead, but he didn’t utter a sound. “Ah, this one is strategically placed through your bone, as I had requested. It’s not true what they say, you know. It’s not hard to find good help today at all. As long as you reward them they stay loyal to you, as they should.”
Amber started to panic. Why was Logan playing mute? Wasn’t it obvious that this man would continue torturing him until he got a rise out of him? Or until he would tell this man that he would join his father against Kincaid. Then a thought hit her. “If his father knew what you were doing to his son, he’d-”
A snarl filled her ears and she was smacked against a cabinet. Only thing keeping her up were his hands biting into her shoulders.
“What the fuck would an insignificant dryad know about his father?”
Amber’s heart was in her throat and fear nearly paralyzed her. She started counting to ten to calm her frantically beating heart, telling herself she was stronger than this. That Logan was worse off and needed her.
A sound emanated from behind her pissed-off assailant’s back. The man turned around, releasing her. She dropped onto her knees, panting.
Logan was frantically fighting his chains. This clearly amused Eyepatch. “Ah, your Achilles’ heel-a woman. I should’ve known. You always had a weakness for women.” He turned back towards her, a hand formed into a claw.
Amber balled her fists, trying to keep them from trembling. She was scared shitless but couldn’t show that. She had to believe there was a way out of here.
“Let her go and we’ll talk,” Logan said calmly.
“Don’t fret, boy. I don’t intend to hurt Meg’s granddaughter. This isn’t the time to drive the tree-huggers into Alec Kincaid’s arms. So, tell me, little dryad. Did you follow this misguided soul knowing this was going to happen?”
“I saw him getting pushed into a car and sitting on that barrel.”
Eyepatch nodded, while circling Logan like a shark. “Did you see him leave this room too?”
“This, right now, is the last I saw,” Amber honestly said.
“I guess that makes sense. Life would be boring if it became too predictable even to a psychic. Life’s excitement and challenge is in not knowing what will happen next. You never know for sure who will rule whom at any given time.” He grabbed Logan’s mohawk and yanked his head back. “Join us, boy. Atone for your previous treachery and become one of the victors at the same time.” His clawed fingers menacingly slid over Logan’s left eye.
Shit! Amber desperately searched for something-anything-she could use as a weapon. A wine bottle near her feet caught her attention and she slowly bent down to pick it up.
“Amber, no.”
Logan shook his head and she gave him an incredulous look.
Eyepatch didn’t even bother to turn around. “Good thing to warn her. Just because I have to let her go doesn’t mean I can’t hurt her first. Badly.”
Those words were enough to churn her blood into ice and let go of the bottle. Yeah, okay, might not have been the best idea to try to bash a dragon’s head in while she barely reached his shoulder.
“This might sting,” Eyepatch said, right before he yanked the iron bars from Logan’s body. “Think hard and well before you make a choice,” he said before he disappeared, leaving the door wide open behind him.
Amber quickly darted to Logan’s side. He had slid off the barrel, groaning while trying to get back on his feet. His boxers, the only thing he was wearing that wasn’t in shreds, were covered in blood.
She kneeled next to him and put an arm around his waist. “We have to get out of here.”
Logan hoisted himself on his knees. “I’m gonna need a minute.”
“We don’t have a minute,” she mumbled, afraid Eyepatch would change his mind and return.
“We do if I can barely move,” he panted.
Of course. His body had to recover from being used as a voodoo doll, spiked with iron. The cold wasn’t really helping. She searched the room for clothes, but there wasn’t even a thread to be found. He had ripped off the remains of his bloodied shirt. She took of her scarf and put it around his neck. It was long enough to cover his tattoo, saving the talk about what that tattoo meant for another day. The next thing she did was place her wool beanie over his head. Luckily for him it was a black unisex instead of pink with sequins. It was a far cry from the fashionable way he usually looked, but it beat walking around with only his boxer shorts.
“I have a better way of getting warm,” he said huskily, a hand on her hip, staring at her lips.
Amber impatiently pushed away his hand. “This isn’t the time for jokes. We have to get out of here before that creepy guy changes his mind and returns.”
“Who was joking?” Logan mumbled, a hint of hurt in his voice as he pushed himself back to his feet. He leaned on her as they climbed up the stairs, walked down a small corridor and got outside. They were met with bright street lights and punky neon galore in a busy street. At least they weren’t dropped in the middle of nowhere.
“Where are we?” she wondered.
Logan was studying the street. “Soho,” he said.
&nb
sp; “You recognize a part of London just by looking at it?”
“I used to live here,” he said and started walking, though it was more limping.
He swayed on his feet and she put her arm around his waist again, supporting him as much as she could. They must have been a sight, a tall guy in boxers, a scarf, and beanie, plastered to a girl who didn’t even reach his shoulder.
She pushed her phone in his hands. “Call Drake. I can’t carry you back all the way to the bus station by myself.” They were supposed to assemble there in a few hours.
Logan cracked his neck both ways and grimaced as it popped. However, he was finally able to hold himself up now. “Later,” he said. “First, I need clothes.” He sauntered into a souvenir shop they passed which had its window filled with sweatshirts and hoodies.
Anyone else might feel a bit self-conscious looking the way Logan did, but not him. He barreled inside and leisurely started looking for some clothes in a rack.
A shop attendant, a young blonde girl, immediately came to his aid, not that he needed any. Her eyes roamed over his body and grew large when she saw the dried-up blood coating his boxers and chest.
“My friend fell into a ditch,” Amber said, for lack of a better lie. “He got soaked so he took his clothes off.”
The girl nodded in earnest. She seemed to have bought the lie, because she didn’t even ask how he had managed to fall into a ditch in the middle of downtown London.
“Hi there, beautiful. I’m Logan,” he introduced himself, cracking open his charm. “My strictly platonic friend over here is right.” He dropped a sweatshirt in her hands with the colorful pattern of the Tube.
“Anything else I can help you with?” the girl gushed, drooling over his six pack.
Logan smiled, his eyes on her name tag. “You certainly can, Kimberley. I’m looking for some pants that go with this sweatshirt.”
Within fifteen minutes he was up and dressed, standing at the counter. He pointedly looked at her and she remembered he didn’t have any money on him. She paid because, really, what else was she supposed to do?
The girl leaned into the counter and slipped a piece of paper into his hands. “I’m off at nine,” she whispered.
Amber rolled her eyes, which made him shake his head in return. “You’ve had your chance, little flower,” he whispered.
After he promised to call Kimberley, they finally left the store. Logan looked much better, though still a bit pale. He suggested having dinner but he passed several pubs and restaurants. Apparently he found them all lacking for he kept on walking.
“You really have no shame, do you?” she scoffed.
“Now what did I do?”
“You really have to ask? You’re hooking up with this Kimberley, while you have a girlfriend. Remember Lisa?”
“The Lisa thing already crashed and burned. Well, it did for her; I don’t particularly care. We were a bad match. I actually like women who can eat. Don’t like fancy women who starve themselves and are all bones. No man wants to hug a needle cushion.” He fake-shuddered.
“You knew about Lisa’s eating disorder.”
He cocked a brow, as if insulted by her comment. “Of course I knew. My niece was bulimic. I can recognize the signs from a mile away.”
“Didn’t know you had a niece.”
“Does this make me more human?”
“Oddly not,” she countered his grin.
After another fifteen-minute walk, Logan finally went inside a pub that could curry his approval. It was small, loud, filled with wooden tables, but had a great ambiance.
They took the stairs to the dinner section. Amber chose a spot near the window and when the waiter came to take their order she asked for soup. Anything to get warm fast. She also ordered the recommended fish.
Logan ordered a meal for starved carnivores. She gave him her phone again. This time he took it, typed something, and handed it back.
“I’m glad to see you’re doing better,” she said, after their meals had arrived and they dived in.
“Much better.”
“I thought you guys were indestructible.”
“No one is indestructible.”
“Why iron?” Now that they were safe and sound, sharing a hot meal, she had time to look back on the events of the night.
“Not sure. Maybe it’s because we love jewels and think iron beneath us compared to shiny, precious objects. Guess it’s nature’s way of balance, giving us our own kryptonite.”
She pointed around with her spoon. “The food’s great here. I understand now why you walked around that long searching for this pub.”
“You haven’t been to Soho without having had London’s best fish ’n’ chips,” he claimed. “Also, this is the queen’s local pub.”
“I doubt that,” she said dryly.
“I meant the queen of pop. The timeless Material Girl who forever looks hot.”
“Really?” she asked excited, looking around with renewed interest.
“I thought you might like a visit.” He sounded a bit awkward, as if caught doing a good deed.
“Thank you for bringing me here. I love Madonna.”
“Yeah well, you can’t see this at a museum,” he said, avoiding her look.
Suddenly she realized that his march through half of Soho to this pub was his way of apologizing for his behavior earlier at the museum. His dark look told her to take the apology and not go there, so she didn’t.
The next hour they spent talking about this and that, eating their meal. Logan pretended as if he hadn’t spent his afternoon being tortured. She was just about to groom him with some questions when he put his fork down and looked over her shoulder.
She didn’t need to turn around to know that Drake was standing there.
NINETEEN
Drake stood next to their table, his gaze roamed over her body after his eyes had gone quickly over Logan. “You okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry.
“I’m fine, but you should ask Logan. He was the one they were after.” Much to her dismay, he didn’t ask who “they” were. Judging from the look Drake exchanged with his brother, he knew exactly who she was referring to, though. Maybe Logan had put it in his message. Why didn’t she think of checking her phone before?
“What did he want?” Drake asked.
“Same as last time,” Logan casually claimed.
Amber could no longer keep quiet. “Who are you talking about? Who was that man?”
Logan put down his spoon and slid out of his booth, no longer looking pale. “That was Stark senior,” he said, his tone flat.
She waited for him to smirk or make a sarcastic comment, but he kept his jaws locked. So she just had to ask: “That was your father? You can’t be serious. He threatened to stab out your eye.”
Logan took off her scarf and put it around her shoulders. “An eye for an eye, a claw for a claw. We dragons are a vengeful lot. Enjoy your dessert, you two. I recommend the double chocolate cheesecake. It’s as sweet and sinful as your intermezzo here. I suggest you make the most of it. I’m off to my date with Kelly.”
“Kimberley,” Amber corrected him, but Logan was already heading down the stairs.
Drake didn’t try to stop him. Instead, he sat next to her, boxing her in and grabbed a menu card. His eyes hardened when his gaze rested on the abrasions on her hand.
“Oh, this is nothing,” she waved it off. “Logan was actually impaled. I don’t think he should be alone right now.”
“This isn’t the first time he was impaled with iron by his father,” Drake said to her horror, gesturing at the waiter. “He wouldn’t want me to go after him. I know my brother. He’ll replace those memories with a hookup. He’s a firm believer in recycling bad memories with good ones.”
“Nice philosophy, but he could’ve avoided those bad memories in the first place, had he just listened to me. It was as if he knew he would come across his… that man.” Eyepatch didn’t deserve to be called “father.”
/> “Sometimes it’s better not knowing what the future has in store for you. Especially if you know it’s going to be something painful.”
She understood and wished she could say the same. Pity she already knew what the future was going to bring her. “Why did you guys come to London anyway? Most Seven Hills dragons stayed behind. Because it’s safer,” she said pointedly.
They were interrupted by the waiter who came to take their order: the chocolate cheesecake for her and a shepherd’s pie for Drake.
“Maybe safer, but we would have sent the wrong message. I would have given off the wrong message,” he corrected himself, after the waiter had left.
“What do you mean? Are you actually worried that someone might think you are afraid? Who cares, as long as you’re safe?” She realized she was getting all worked up because apparently he lacked the sense of self-preservation. Her mouth twisted wryly when she realized she lacked the same. Wasn’t she sitting right here, all dandy, sharing food with her possible doom?
Pinky’s look filled with disapproval formed inside her head.
Get up and walk away, she seemed to scream.
Now.
Get up.
Start walking.
Except her legs refused to move. She had read somewhere that your feet were the most honest part of your body, because they couldn’t lie. Her feet were pointed in Drake’s direction.
“It’s not just that. There were several other reasons I wanted to come,” Drake shared.
“Your cousin Henry stayed behind,” she reminded him.
“Henry didn’t have much of a choice. He’s being guarded by a witch who would rather eat him herself than let him fall into enemy hands. Had I stayed behind, I would have given Kincaid the message that I stayed for him and his cause. It’d be the same as swearing him my loyalty. Loyalty is also the reason Logan didn’t stay behind. He wanted to have my back, just as I would have his.”
“What’s the other reason?”
“Other reason?”
“You said there were several reasons you wanted to go on this trip.”
