by Hati Bell
Bryan drove away, making Drake’s image in the rear-view window turn into a dot, and eventually disappear. She knew, however, that it wouldn’t be long before she’d see him. He would have no doubt recognized the accusatory glare she had given him.
Her brother broke his silence when he stopped in front of their door. “I’m sorry about Croft. I know what her support meant to you.”
His words were like daggers in her heart, spiking up the overwhelming guilt she felt. “She did her best trying to do what Meg should’ve been doing.”
“Speaking of Meg…”
Something in his tone made her head snap up. “Now what did she do?”
Bryan took a deep breath. “It’s actually more about what she can’t do. I’m sure the Council will cover Croft’s death up. But the fact remains that a supe has died, one of our own. Unlike humans, dryads will know Croft was murdered. The Council will investigate the matter. Usually they turn to Meg to ask if she’s seen anything. With her visions gone and her being in the winds, I’m afraid it will be you they will turn to next.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I didn’t miss the look you just exchanged with Drake Cage. You also told me about the meaning behind your nightmares. You must have had a vision since a supe died of unnatural causes, so this murder can’t have been too big a surprise.”
“I didn’t know it would be her,” she croaked, immediately feeling ashamed by her defensive tone. As if it mattered who it was.
“I’m not trying to lay a guilt trip on you, because I know how elusive your gift is at times. Whatever is going on between you and Drake, don’t forget that, before anything else, he’s still a dragon. His loyalties and interests will always be with his own kind. Keep that in mind when you have to stand before the Council.”
His words were like a warning bell, resonating in her mind and forming cracks in the foundation of her loyalty towards Drake.
***
Once back home, she threw her backpack into a corner. Her feet lead their own life when they sauntered off towards her safe haven behind their house.
The picnic table cracked as she rocked back and forth with her knees raised. In a half-fetal position, everything somehow seemed to hurt less. Had she lived in a cartoon, a horned creature with a pitchfork would have taunted her with the reason-no, the second reason-why Croft’s death had shaken her so much. Aside from her guilt about the “what ifs”, her sense of self-preservation had kicked in, screaming at her. For the murder in the gym also brought her a step closer to the one vision she feared most. Another death, this time hers.
When she heard footsteps approaching, her head shot up. Drake and Logan stood at the edge of the weedy, overgrown path. Drake in his sneakers and jeans, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Logan wearing his wool trench coat with a pulled collar, his face as inviting as Guantanamo Bay.
Drake was the one who broke the silence. “I’m sorry I didn’t have the chance before to speak to you about your dragon promise to me.” He was digging the tip of his shoe into the ground. “You think I’m responsible for her death,” he said when she didn’t respond. “That if I hadn’t made you promise to keep your vision a secret, you might have saved her.”
“Partially responsible at best,” she admitted, uncurling from her fetal position,” since I’m the one who promised to keep her mouth shut. Then again, that’s not entirely fair either. See, I know, better than anyone, that it probably would have happened anyway. According to Meg, once I’ve had a vision, it’s practically set in stone. She hasn’t told me how I can prevent it from happening and I didn’t push for an answer because I was too proud to ask for her help. I was angry and hurt that she had practically gift-wrapped me to hand over to Zacharias. As time passed by and nothing horrible happened, I tried to forget about the vision, telling myself that I couldn’t stop it anyway. And now it’s too late. Nurse Croft is dead. Oh God, she has three children. One of them, Seth, plays on Ian’s football team. The youngest has an autoimmune disease and is in and out of hospitals.”
Drake sat next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Everything’s gonna be okay. I promise.”
She cast a glance at Logan. He’d crossed his arms before his chest, his lips a thin line. She knew what she’d seen, both in her vision and on his body. It didn’t necessarily make him a murderer, but how many others would have that exact dragon tattoo on their chests? She couldn’t imagine him as a murderer. But then again, what did she know about the psyche of a killer?
“Logan isn’t the man from your vision,” Drake assured her.
“Perhaps not,” she conceded. “But it doesn’t matter. Whoever has killed her has to pay for what he’s done. It’s the least I owe her. When they ask me about it, I won’t lie. It’s the only clue we have to find her killer.”
“I’m going to ask you what no dragon has asked a dryad before,” Drake said. “To trust me.”
“I already do,” she admitted and she could feel his relief.
He gestured at Logan, who tentatively stepped forward. “Read him,” Drake said.
She sent him a sidelong glance. “What?”
Logan held out his hand. “I think he’s trying to tell you to do your mojo on me. You get a vision when you touch someone and see what that person’s thinking about at that time, right?” She nodded, remembering discussing this with Drake one night. Logan pursed his lips. “Since your vision is connected to my mind and emotions, right now I should be thinking about murder and mayhem or some kind of other sick shit. As opposed to, say, magic bunnies.” He tried to laugh it off, but she could see the tension in his eyes.
Amber had her doubts but, in a way, his logic did make sense. When your mind, your subconscious, was filled with murder and death, it consumed your every thought, making it practically impossible to think about basic things like soccer, fishing, or, yes, magic bunnies.
“I’m not sure if it works that way,” she mused. “Meg would know, but I can’t get a hold of her. Haven’t for days.” As usual, when she needed Meg the most, she was nowhere to be found.
“Guess you’re all I’ve got then,” Logan said, his tone even.
She realized suddenly that he was more nervous than he let on. After all, there was a lot at stake for him. Everyone knew that when you were tried and found guilty by the Council, you didn’t end up in a human prison. No human bars could keep supes inside. No, Logan would end up in the Catacombs-a hellish place everybody knew existed, but which couldn’t be found on any map. According to rumors, the living conditions there hadn’t changed much since the Crusades.
She took Logan’s hand and was immediately bombarded with images that made her cheeks burn. She couldn’t suppress a grin when she saw what fate had in store for him. It was highly amusing and there was no way she was going to give him a heads-up. “You’re safe,” she said and let go of his hand.
Logan narrowed his eyes. “Care to share that vision with me that has you looking all smug, since, you know, it is about my future?”
And forego the chance of seeing him get his ass kicked by a redhead? “Nothing out of the ordinary. Though it does seem that this time you will draw the short straw. A parade of women, lots of kissing, a Turkish bath. Don’t you ever think about anything else?” she teased.
Logan tightened, shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked away.
“Apparently not,” Drake said curtly.
She looked at him questioningly when it finally began to dawn on her. “Oh,” she said, feeling slightly awkward. Who’d have thought? Okay, so maybe a part of her-just a tiny bit-was flattered he’d think of making out whenever he touched her. He was gorgeous, after all, of the rare titanium kind as Cally had categorized him.
“Are you convinced of Logan’s innocence?” Drake asked, pulling her mind back to the issue at hand.
Amber nodded and slid off the table. There was a tension building up between the brothers she did not want to get mixed up in. Getting freed from
her dragon promise could surely wait for another day. She mumbled a hasty goodbye and split. She had a lot to think about.
TWENTY-ONE
When Amber was out of sight, Logan looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not going to deny it,” he simply said.
It was all Drake could do not to smack him. “You want her.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Not in the I-want-you-but-can’t-have-you-so-I’m-going-to-torture-myself way like you do,” he admitted indirectly. “Believe me when I say that my feelings are far more… base and superficial. She’s hot, after all. But no need to worry. She’s safe from me. Unless you give me the green light? Unlike you, I’ve got nothing to lose if I give it a go with her.”
“Asshole,” Drake growled. Logan’s hopeful tone didn’t escape his notice.
“Is that a no?”
“It’s a fuck no.”
“Bugger. Does she know about you, by the way?” Logan smoothly changed the subject. “Of course, I don’t know if you’ve, say, seen each other naked yet and-”
“No,” Drake cut him off, sending him a warning look.
Logan’s eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t have an alibi for the time of the murder,” he then said out of the blue.
Drake’s mood plummeted. “How can you not have an alibi? Since when do you spend a Friday night alone?”
“I didn’t say I was alone.” Logan sounded insulted by the thought.
Drake wearily rubbed his nose bridge. “Do I really need to ask any further?”
“Maybe.”
“Were you spending the night with one of your exes who’d rather see you dangling from a rope than testify for you?”
Logan’s answer was a wide grin, one which Drake, given the dire circumstances, could not appreciate.
“A surprisingly fitting choice of words that would make me blush as a virgin, if I knew any shame, but no. The very flexible and limber lady in question is sort of chained to someone who would make her and my life a hell if he knew of our appointments in the gym. She’ll keep her mouth shut, which suits me just fine.”
“Damn, Logan. This isn’t the fucking time to be discreet. Whoever she is, she can’t be more important than your life.”
“Trust me when I say I am protecting my life and hers, by keeping her identity secret,” he said dryly.
“Not good enough. Give me her name or I’ll do it the old-fashioned way and beat it out of you. Not kidding here.”
Logan snorted and gave him a shove. “I remember those painful sparring sessions ending in a draw.”
“Give me her name,” he repeated. His brother started to walk away and Drake got a bad feeling. It wasn’t like Logan to be so secretive about his latest conquest.
“You still want her name when I tell you she has golden ringlets like a goddess and you usually see her in Kincaid’s company?” Logan asked over his shoulder.
Drake followed after him cursing and swearing. “Are you completely mental or have a death-wish?” he ranted. “Know what? Forget I asked anything. This conversation never happened. I did not just hear you say that.” If Kincaid ever found out Logan was sleeping with his mistress, he would have him quartered.
“Hey, you asked. Also, you don’t have to worry about it any longer. We’re over. It was too much fuss, sneaking around her security detail. The outcome simply wasn’t worth the investment anymore.”
Shit. Drake cringed at the thought of Logan’s recklessness. His brother sure liked living on the edge. “What about Benn?” He hadn’t gotten hold of his deeply-in-love and practically-attached-to-his-girlfriend’s-hip friend yet.
“He’s safe. There are witnesses who can account for the fact that he was having dinner with his buttercup on Friday night.”
“And I was at some charity function at the Dome, with at least a hundred witnesses, among which the mayor,” Drake mused.
“Lucky bastard,” Logan said. “Though it wouldn’t have made a difference if you wouldn’t have had an alibi. Not even Alec Kincaid would allow his grandson to get shipped off to the Catacombs to avenge a dryad, the Council be damned.”
It was as if his life darkened a bit more, when he thought about the consequences of Logan’s actions. “Which means only one suspect remains. That is, if they find out about the tattoo.”
His brother sighed and then shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “They don’t know about the tattoo. If they had, they would have asked me about it this afternoon when they questioned me about Croft. Even when Amber tells them, her testimony might be enough to get me off the hook for the murder. You know, her being a dryad and all, it takes a lot of courage to side with one of us.”
“She’s strong,” Drake said proudly.
“Strong enough to withstand Kincaid when he’ll steamroll her to get a damning testimony out of her? He’d love to see Stark’s son hang, just like a dryad would like to see a dragon hang.”
“She won’t ever be in that position.”
Logan laughed without humor, his eyes hard. “Right, because you’re protecting her by staying away from her. How incredibly noble of you, Sir Lancelot. A tad bit boring and predictable, but noble like a knight instead of a fierce dragon. Do I need to remind you that noble people are usually the first ones to get clawed in the back? You should think less and enjoy what life brings on your path more. You never know when someone decides to put iron through you or you will be at the mercy of the Council. Carpe diem, brother. Live a little.”
Drake’s gaze followed the path Amber had disappeared behind. He could still smell her faint flowery fragrance. “It would be pointless.”
“Who says there has to be a point to life?” Logan countered. “If life had meaning, Gaby Grayson wouldn’t have killed her career in favor of gallons of sherry. If it had a point, it would mean that all the beatings and iron torture I received from Stark senior would have had a purpose. If it had a point, it would mean your father did well to give his inheritance up and then curse you for it. If life had a point… I can go on for a while here. All that counts and has a meaning is today.”
Everything is meaningful when I’m with her.
However, it was pointless to explain this to his jaded brother, or even say it out loud. Some things were just not meant to be.
***
That same night Drake was summoned to appear before the Council, which had gathered in the meeting room of the Dome. He sat on a seat in the back. The six-headed Council-judge, jury and executioners-consisted of Mrs. Hofland, Dave Addison’s father Kirk, Amber’s father, two pixies, and the chairman, Kincaid. They wore black robes and serious expressions on their faces. He knew that all the dragons from Trinity College had been questioned by now. The only reason he was allowed inside was that no one dared to send Kincaid’s grandson away.
A blast of nerves shot through his body when Amber was called inside as the expert witness. She looked nervous for her first appearance in an official capacity as Meg’s substitute. She walked passed him and set on a bench in front of the Council. Her father nodded at her in encouragement.
“Welcome, Amber,” Mrs Hofland greeted her. “Do you know why you have been summoned?”
“Yes,” Amber answered. “You want to know what I’ve seen concerning Nurse Croft’s murder.”
“Could you tell us if it was a dragon?” Kirk Addison asked eagerly, leaning forward.
“Um…”
He saw her stiffen and bend her head slightly to the side, as if she were hoping she would catch him whispering to her.
Don’t hate me. Please, don’t hate me.
Kincaid impatiently shifted some papers. “According to the police report, Nurse Croft was killed by an animal attack. The coroner we used said she was most likely killed by dragon claws, but he couldn’t be entirely sure. Perhaps you could shed a light on the killer?”
Drake knew the exact moment when she realized he wouldn’t free her from her dragon promise. Her back straightened and she cleared her throat, which by now undoubtedly felt rough and bu
rned. A pain he had caused her.
“The coroner was right,” she said. “The killer was a dragon.”
“Is that all you can tell us?” Kirk Addison asked, disappointed. “Didn’t you catch his face or any other specifics of his body?”
“I’m sorry, but that is all I can tell you.”
He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until Amber got a sign that she could rise.
Crisis averted.
He hoped the Council would attribute her first, somewhat weak, performance as inexperience and nerves.
“Well, then it’s a good thing we have a more accurate witness.” Kirk Addison snorted and Drake froze. “Long live security camera footage.”
“Bring him in,” Kincaid ordered.
The door opened and Drake saw his brother walk inside, surrounded by Kincaid’s guards. He was placed on Amber’s left.
“Logan Stark, do you know what you are being charged with?” Kincaid asked.
“I believe it is for murder,” Logan said dryly, giving Amber a wink.
Kirk Addison leaned forward again, seeming almost delighted at the chance of convicting a dragon. “The murderer was caught on camera while fleeing the school premises. Our seer has just declared that it was a dragon. As you know, a seer is never wrong. The killer’s face stayed hidden in shadows. However, his red dragon tattoo covered chest did not. We discovered only three dragons have exactly that specific tattoo inked on their chests: Drake Cage, Benn Thomson, and you. Your friends have a watertight alibi for the time of the murder. You failed to give one in your previous statement. So, I ask you again: where were you last Friday night?”
Drake saw Amber looking back and sending him a pained look. She stared at his chest as if her gaze could penetrate the fabric and look underneath.
“I was with some girl,” Logan answered, after a slight hesitation.
