by Hati Bell
“Bloody volcanoes and dancing dragons,” Ben exclaimed, a hint of fear in his voice. “I can’t believe it. She’s a…”
“Don’t say it!” Logan clipped. “Have you forgotten that speaking their name draws their kind here?”
Benn plucked at his strands of hair. “I thought they were an urban legend. A boisterous tale made up by dragons about how a Kincaid saved us from them ages ago, after which he banished their kind.”
A couple of shoes appeared next to Amber. Pumps with high heels, one of which was broken. Meg was staring down at her granddaughter. She looked shocked, though not as surprised as Drake would have imagined. Her expression was a mix of regret, sorrow, and fear-especially fear.
Drake had to clear his dry throat before he could speak. “We have to do something.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Meg said.
His brain felt as if it could short-circuit any second. “Don’t speak of her as if she’s dead!”
“Yet she is,” Meg said with a sigh. “The sooner you accept that, the sooner you’ll be able to move on.”
“You knew this would happen.” He wanted to bark the words in her face and was surprised by his calm tone. Emotion seemed a distant memory.
“Of course I knew,” Meg said stiffly. “I am, after all-correction: I was-a medium. And a good one at that. But I certainly wasn’t going to reveal Amber’s true nature to a Kincaid.”
I’m not a damn Kincaid! he wanted to yell, but knew it would be pointless. The only dryad who never threw his heritage in his face was lying dead in his arms. “When did you find out?” He had to know if there had been something he could have done to prevent this. If there had been a way to save her.
“The moment I held her in my arms, right after she was born. I knew what was going to happen, not when.”
He had to ask. It seemed insane to even contemplate it. He feared the answer, though he sensed he already knew it. “Did you tell her? Did she knew this was going to happen?”
The shoes turned a bit, as if Meg couldn’t wait to leave. “I couldn’t even tell my own daughter. I just kept my distance. After all, it’s no use bonding with someone you know can die any minute. When Emily died in that fire in the cabin, I expected to find Amber beneath the debris as well. Imagine my surprise when I found her safe and sound, waiting to be rescued. There’s only one being even more impervious to fire than a dragon. It was then when I knew what she was. Of course, I couldn’t tell anyone. She would have been shipped off or killed. Who knows what the Council would have decided? Only William knew, since Emily had told him he wasn’t Amber’s father.” She fell silent for a moment. “She held on longer than I expected.”
“You should have warned her.”
Meg snorted. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. I know the way her visions work. She knew she was going to die in your arms, the moment she touched you. There was a reason I asked you to watch over her outside. But what did you do? You decided to play house with her and awakened the all-consuming fire within her that was dormant up until the moment she came in contact with you. All those times you two spent together… I knew the minute the first dragons and goblins started to drop dead and she was still looking all dandy. The only thing that could have kept her together was your dragon skin.”
“So it’s her fault? Is that what you’re saying?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“It certainly wasn’t my fault,” she claimed, looking around nervously. “I did my best to protect her. Unlike you, I have nothing to worry about. I tried to save her.”
Why didn’t it surprise him that Meg washed her hands in innocence? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
Meg peered nervously into the shadows, as if at any moment a beast would burst out of the bushes and grab her. She froze when someone actually came out of them, but relaxed when she saw it was Armand walking their way, pulling his leg. He had a similar expression on his face as Meg: regret with a hint of fear.
Drake didn’t understand the older dragon’s anxiety. The battle between dragons and goblins had finished in favor of their kind, courtesy of Amber. The part of him that had stayed by his side, even knowing that it would kill her.
“What did you mean with Drake having to worry?” Logan said from behind him.
Drake tightened. He’d almost forgotten the presence of his brother. A part of him resented Logan, because he’d pulled him away from Amber. It was an unreasonable part, but one he wasn’t prepared to let go just yet. It was the same part that told him to make the world bleed.
Meg pulled off her shoes and gave a deep sigh. “I meant the inferno that’s going to hit Drake when Amber’s father–her real father–arrives. He has a short… fuse. It’s time for me to pack. I’d advise you to do the same. It truly is a pity that you couldn’t prevent her awakening.” After one last, regretful look at Amber she pulled her scarf over her head and rushed away.
Drake looked at Armand who was longingly staring after his former employer. “You’re going to follow her.”
Armand nodded. “I’ve failed to protect the child, his only daughter. When… he arrives his fury will know no bounds. The thing with the goblins will seem child’s play compared to the arrival of his entourage. A man of his status doesn’t travel alone. It’s only a matter of time before he finds out what happened here. It would be… prudent to not be around for that. Not until he has cooled his rage onto the ones deserving it. It is unfortunate indeed that you couldn’t prevent her awakening. For a moment there I had hoped…”
“Hoped what? How could I have saved her? Fucking tell me!”
Armand frowned. “There is a way to keep her kind tethered. Though I’m not sure it would have worked with her since she’s a half-blood.”
Drake had run out of patience and was about to stab his claws into Armand’s throat. “How?”
“By giving her a reason to want to live,” Armand said. “An awakening is hard on the body and the mind of her kind. I had never witnessed one before. All I’ve heard is that someone of her kind needs an anchor, a reason, something to hold her here. You should ask your grandfather if you want the specifics. He’s the expert. He’s also the one who chased the last of their kind away a few decades back.”
Something ugly took up residence in his gut as the puzzle pieces fell together. Bile surged up his throat and for a moment his vision blackened. An iron bar right in his heart would have hurt less.
His head dropped back and he wanted to scream out in agony, when he suddenly felt a pulse.
TWENTY-FIVE
Drake’s only obstacle to Amber’s room was a white uniform. He felt a growl rise up his throat and he balled his fists, trying to temper his powerlessness, regret, and self-hate.
“…family only,” the nurse said, hands on her hips.
Fuck that. Her father was out of town and who knew if anyone had even alerted him, or her brothers. He wasn’t waiting that long.
Someone put a hand on his shoulder. It was Gregor. Of course. Kincaid’s watchdog would stay close to his boss. “You’re starting to draw attention,” he whispered. “She’s already pressed the button to call security.”
“Dr. Seabert,” the nurse exclaimed, sounding relieved when a balding man in a white coat stepped out of the elevator. “This young man will not listen to me. He insists I brief him on the case of the severely dehydrated girl brought in a few hours ago.”
Drake saw red when the doctor attempted to pass by him. His hand shot out and he grabbed the doctor by his stethoscope.
“What…”
“I’m Drake Kincaid.” As expected, the good doctor swallowed his protest. “I want an update on Amber O’Neill’s condition right now or I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”
Seabert tried to pull out of his grip, but Drake held him tight. “I don’t know who you think you’re dealing with, but-”
“No, you don’t know who you’re dealing with,” Gregor chimed in. “This is Alec Kincaid’s
grandson.” The doctor’s eyes widened at that. “As you might have heard, Mr. Kincaid is in intensive care. He would be very displeased if he found out you refused to answer a simple question from his grandson.”
The doctor’s mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water. When the resistance in his eyes disappeared, Drake let him go.
After he had adjusted his coat, Seabert put on his professional doctor voice. “Miss O’Neill has suffered from severe dehydration, the kind I’ve never encountered before.” He spouted some medical jargon into the ether. “It’s highly unlikely she will ever wake up… Nothing more we can do…”
Drake’s world went silent. He could see the doctor’s lips moving, but he couldn’t hear him anymore. There was this loud ringing inside his head, overpowering every other sound. His vision however was as clear as ever and latched on to everything surrounding him. The Emergency Department had eight rooms. The corridor had seven light bulbs and two nurses rushing from one side to the other. One of them held a lunch bag in her hand. How could everyday life just continue as if nothing had happened while his had just ended?
His walked upstairs, to Kincaid’s room. He vaguely sensed Gregor following him. It was typical, almost poetic, that the devil lay a floor above the angel. Evil had triumphed over good, after all.
Of course, an entire wing of the second floor was readied just for Kincaid, forcing a few other patients to move. Drake passed one empty room after another. Empty spaces that had gone out of use because Somerset’s lord and master had wished it.
Kincaid’s door was guarded by two armed dragons. Drake kept his face blank. “I’d like to visit my grandfather.”
Gregor’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he gave a nod and the guards stepped aside. “Your grandfather got pierced close to his heart, and pieces of iron penetrated it and still have to be removed. He’s hooked to a ventilator. He will go into surgery within an hour. Had he been without oxygen for another minute, he might not have made it.”
“Just for another minute?”
“Try not to be too hard on him,” Gregor said curtly.
Feeling relieved, because he’d easily entered Satan’s chamber, Drake closed the door behind him.
Kincaid sat right up in his hospital bed, a pile of cushions in his back, hooked to several wires. His eyes, however, were as sharp as ever. Cujo lay at his feet, like a dirty mop. “You don’t look so well. Perhaps you received some bad news?” he noted, sounding bored.
“You knew what was going to happen.”
“It’s my job to know what goes on in my territory, so I usually do. You have to be more specific.”
His feet propelled him forward, until he stood before the iron bars of the bed. “Save me your ego trip. You know very well what I’m talking about. How did you know Amber was a phoenix?”
A hint of a smile curled up Kincaid’s lips. “I see you are not afraid to speak their name, thinking one will poof up next to you,” he said approvingly. “It gives me great pleasure knowing that my grandson has more guts than the whole Council combined.”
“Giving you pleasure is the last thing I want,” Drake snarled. “I’m just not superstitious. You didn’t answer my question. How did you know about Amber?”
“Ah, yes, the dryad girl with the special gift. It was about time you discovered she was more than just a pretty face. The Roman emperors didn’t just hand their empire over to the oldest son, but to the most suitable candidate, knowing anyone less would be murdered in the long run. That’s how one rules an empire, by anticipating any possible future scenarios and reacting adequately. Amber’s curious case actually fell practically into my lap. A certain school nurse told me about the strange symptoms her patient had. Symptoms she had looked up in an old manuscript and that scared her. It was easy to follow the bread crumbs from there.”
Drake’s hands grabbed the iron bars of the bed and deformed them. “I don’t believe you. No dryad would betray her own kind to a dragon.”
Kincaid picked up a magazine. “She would if she needed money for her son’s surgery and tried to barter information she had come across for the right price.”
Perhaps he should feel sorry for the school nurse for getting caught up in Kincaid’s games and paying for it with her life. First she had been used to screw over Logan to get him away from Drake, then she was silenced for it. Then again, he couldn’t muster any empathy for someone who had in the end betrayed Amber.
“Release me,” Drake demanded. “Free me from my promise.”
A short silence fell. “You really believe you can still save her,” Kincaid said, sounding genuinely surprised.
“Release me from my promise. Let. Me. Go.”
Kincaid made a gesture of contempt. “It is fairly useless what you are planning. But if you need to perform a Sisyphean task so reality will finally penetrate your brain, I hereby-for this night only-release you from your dragon promise.”
That was all Drake wanted to hear. He felt the noose around his neck loosen and dashed out of the room. By the time he reached Amber’s room again, the last restrictions of his dragon promise had dissolved. The only sound in her room were the beep of monitors. She was plugged by electrical cords to a ventilator, looking small in the bright white room. Her skin almost looked translucent beneath the harsh hospital light. The rhythmic sound of the machine that kept her breathing oddly comforted him.
He gently combed his fingers through her hair. “Amber O’Neill. Since the moment I first laid eyes on you, you captivated me,” he confessed. “To me, you shine brighter than the sun, are stronger than iron and prettier than diamonds. You’re my life, my love, and my future.” For a moment there he imagined her lips curling up into a faint Mona Lisa smile. His heart started to pound. “I love you.”
The smile, if it ever had been one, disappeared and a calm serenity passed over her face. The machines that kept her alive started making a noise, right before it showed a frightening flat line.
It was only then that he realized not only her body had said goodbye, but her mind as well. Once again he was abandoned, this time after his rebirth.
The second time he entered the dragon’s lair, no one stopped him. He believed Gregor said something, but he wasn’t sure. The ringing and mist inside his head messed with his vision and hearing. There hung a dark cloud around the world, which enfolded him like toxic smog. He inhaled the poison, welcoming it into his body, filling his pores with it.
He heard the door click shut as it closed behind him. Kincaid was reading a financial paper. The cabinet next to him had a cup of coffee. His lack of interest in the catastrophe he was the cause of couldn’t have been more clear. The ruins in which he had turned Drake’s life into were simply his arena. He was the emperor, with his thumb always pointing down, when one of his pawns couldn’t get up anymore.
“She’s dead,” Drake said, his voice void of emotion. His gaze settled on Kincaid, who was everything Amber wasn’t; cold, reserved, dangerous… alive.
Something sparked in Kincaid’s eyes that another might have taken for compassion, but not him. He knew the older man lacked that emotion.
Drake swallowed and shook his head. He couldn’t rely on his senses right now. His eyes saw demons climb up the walls, his ears pounded, and he smelled sulfur while he tasted bile. His gut told him that the god of justice demanded a sacrifice to restore the balance between Good and Evil.
Kincaid put his paper on the bedside table, next to Cujo. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said curtly. “Though I can’t say that I’m surprised that your little trick-telling her that you love her-to make her rise from the ashes didn’t work. She is far too gone for that.”
“She’s dead,” Drake repeated as he walked to the bed. “You killed her.”
Kincaid’s eyes bored into his. “No, you killed her by convincing me she was a danger to you. Your little charade during the Council hearing, in which you pretended she meant nothing to you, was the last clue I needed. There could only be tw
o reasons for you to alienate her like that: to neutralize her in my eyes or to please me. I think we both know the latter reason could never be it.
You didn’t really think I would allow anyone to reduce my heir into ash, did you? Every time you visited her, every time you touched her, your dragon skin awakened the dormant fire monster inside her. So, you see, it is you who killed her, dear grandson, not me.”
His words were like bullets, hitting him hard in the chest, because they had a truth to them. He was the one who had placed her on Kincaid’s radar.
Drake stared down at his hands. “She burned right before my eyes.”
“Consider this experience your breaking point,” Kincaid continued, in a much more mild tone. “After today there is nothing and no one that can hurt you to the deepest part of your soul. Consider it your most painful, but necessary and important, lesson on your way to the top. Never love a woman so much that she has the power to destroy you when she slips between your fingers like sand through an hourglass, leaving you behind to face the cruel monster called Time all alone.”
The understanding in Kincaid’s eyes-a rare moment of kinship-felt as a new betrayal and was more than Drake could handle. Darkness. All that’s left for me is darkness. “You stole my light. The one thing that gave me joy, a sense of belonging,” he whispered.
Kincaid uttered a deep sigh. “I knew that your father wouldn’t be a worthy successor even before he met your mother. Even as a child he hid behind his mother’s skirt when I gave him a reprimand. I wasn’t much around to toughen him up, to be a man held responsible for his actions. It wasn’t until it was too late that I realized he became like this because there was always someone-be it a staff member or his mother-who came to his aid. It made him lazy, spoiled, and most of all, something I despise: weak. I promised myself after your father that I would never repeat that mistake. That afternoon, years ago, when you stood in my dining room for the first time, I knew I had done the right thing by ostracizing him and you. You stood before me, with your head held high, cool and collected, even though you were just a child.”
