Fury Freed

by Melissa Haag

  Eliana snorted.

  “Of course she doesn’t. She doesn’t kill; she just destroys lives.” She made a sound of annoyance. “Stop touching yourself when you’re on my bed. I saw that smear on my pillow this morning, and you’re lucky I didn’t kill you in my sleep.”

  “Uh…Eliana?”

  “Sorry. Piepen and Elbner arrived last night. Elbner’s at your place with his honey-milk. Piepen’s here.”

  “That’s great.”

  “No. It’s not.”

  I could hear a door close.

  “He’s in a horny, adolescent phase and keeps touching himself. While on my pillow. Brownie lust does not taste like you’d think. You need to get your butt home as soon as possible. The brownie and my mom both need to go. Mom’s staying here, Megan. At the Quills’. She’s already found my stash of chocolate and eaten half of it. Once the chocolate’s gone, she’s going to turn her attention on me. She already commented that I look underfed.”

  I could hear a tapping in the background.

  “I told you, I need privacy while I’m in the bathroom,” Eliana said. “If you can’t respect that, we’ll need to find you somewhere else to stay while Megan’s away.”

  She lowered her voice.

  “I caught him showering in the run off from my pubic hairs this morning. When I went to kick him, he thanked me for the view of my flower.”

  As much as I hurt, I couldn’t stop my laughter.

  “This isn’t funny, Megan. It’s traumatizing. Help me. No one sees my flower. Ever!”

  I bit my lip and struggled for control as Oanen watched me.

  “I am helping. I swear. We’re going to follow up on a lead we have that links someone else to the trolls’ deaths.”

  “Who?”

  “We don’t know his name. He’s just a hooded man who talked to the victims at the Goose and Gizzard before they died.”

  “Piepen mentioned a nice man who helped his grandparents find peace. Maybe it’s the same guy.”

  “Maybe. Talk to Piepen and see if you can get anything useful out of him. A name. An address. What the hell the guy looks like.”

  “I will. Just hurry.”

  I heard the door open on Eliana’s end before she yelled.

  “Put down my underwear!”

  Then, the line disconnected.

  Chapter Ten

  I handed the phone back to Oanen and carefully sat up.

  “Eliana’s freaking out just like I said she would. It’s not bad enough that the Council wanted Nicolette in Uttira. They put her in your house with Eliana.”

  Oanen frowned.

  “As if that’s not stressful enough for her, the brownie I sent her way is masturbating on Eliana’s pillow and sneaking into the shower with her. We need to figure out who this hooded guy is fast.”

  “All right. Let’s get dressed.”

  I stood too quickly and had to reach for the nightstand to steady myself.

  “What’s wrong?” Oanen was at my side in an instant.

  “Nothing. Just got a little dizzy from standing up too fast.”

  “You’re pale.” He reached out to touch my forehead, but I swatted his hand away.

  “I’m also annoyed that people keep telling me that. You can change in the bathroom. I’ll change out here.”

  He studied me for a long moment then grabbed some clothes and closed himself in the bathroom. I hurried to get dressed, glancing at the new burn on my hip. It wasn’t as severe as the others but still served as a reminder that we needed answers. Today.

  Ten minutes later, we stepped outside, and I looked up at the clear sky.

  “How late is it?” I asked.

  “Almost noon.”

  “Wow.” It hadn’t felt like we’d slept that long.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Not really.”

  He gave me a considering look then opened the car door for me.

  Neither of us spoke during the ride to the Goose and Gizzard. I didn’t mind the quiet. I closed my eyes and drifted off. When the car slowed, though, I jerked awake.

  Oanen parked and cut the engine but stopped me before I got out.

  “I know you don’t like me asking if you’re all right. You probably hate hearing it as much as I hate asking it. I just wish you’d be honest with me and tell me what’s going on. I know something isn’t right.”

  “It’s more than something. It’s everything. Dead trolls. Nicolette. The Council. My mom. My great-grandma. I’m sorry I’m not myself lately.”

  He continued to study me.

  “That’s not it. Or at least not all of it. If you’re not ready to confide in me, that’s fine. But whether you tell me or not, it won’t change what will happen if you get worse. You’re mine, Megan. Mine to love. To care for. To protect. Even from your stubborn self.”

  “Got it.”

  He leaned toward me and gently stroked my cheek.

  “And that’s how I know whatever is happening is getting very serious. Megan Smith does not simply say, ‘Got it.’ Ever.”

  He had me there. But I was too tired to argue.

  “Are we going inside, or do you plan to play with my face all day?” I asked.

  He kissed me lightly then reached across me to open the door.

  “After you.”

  I felt more than a little guilty as I got out then waited for him on the sidewalk. He did have my best interest at heart. Yet, if I told him what was happening, I was worried what his plan B would be if we talked to my great-grandma and she didn’t have any answers. I needed my own plan B before I said anything. Besides, things weren’t as bad as my mom made it sound like they were going to be. I’d successfully managed to avoid trying to condemn someone to hell and reduced the effects of the backlash. I could hold out long enough to find the troll killer and come up with a backup plan for saving myself.

  No problem.

  A little, pessimistic inner voice laughed its ass off at that thought.

  Inside the Gizzard, a few patrons already sat at the bar.

  “No eating anything,” Oanen warned before moving off to talk to a very large, ugly woman sitting by herself in one of the booths.

  I went to the bar and sat beside the man there. The bartender looked at me, shook his head, then approached.

  “What can I get you?”

  “A soda. Any human kind,” I ordered even though I had no intention of consuming any of it.

  The bartender made a noise that suggested he thought I was stupid and moved off.

  The man beside me gave a longsuffering sigh.

  “Human drinks. Bah. I miss drinking from them. Biting into their juicy flesh. The coppery taste of their blood coating my tongue.”

  I glanced at the weathered old man, wondering what type of creature he might be. No matter what kind, I should have felt some fury rage right then. He’d just admitted to eating humans. Perhaps I didn’t feel anything because it had happened long ago. Before the laws even. Or, perhaps the aftereffects of the burns were causing an inability to sense anything. Maybe that was what Mom meant about me being calm.

  “More than that, I miss the sky,” he added.

  His shoulder drooped a bit more.

  “My wings are shriveled and shrunken. I can barely make it from the mainland to the island anymore. Four hundred years ago, I could have flown around the world in my true form.”

  That admission confirmed my long time ago theory. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel my other theory fit as well.

  “Why not go to somewhere secluded and fly?” I asked.

  He snorted.

  “The humans are everywhere.”

  “What about going to one of the towns like Uttira? I hear we can use our true forms openly there.”

  He turned his craggy face toward me and scowled.

  “Exchanging the freedom to fly for my freedom to roam would solve nothing. My life, the lives of all dragons, mean nothing now. This world has no place for us.”

  The
bartender came back with a burger, which he set in front of the old man. While the old guy lifted his bun to inspect the food, the bartender poured me a glass of white soda.

  “Everything okay with the burger, Magroal?” the bartender asked.

  The old guy set the bun down.

  “As good as ground up, old-kill animal flesh can be.”

  The bartender nodded and took a half-full glass from the other side of the old man and went in the back. Magroal took a huge bite of his burger, chewed methodically, and swallowed. The thing smelled amazing. Had I been eating it, I would have been making moaning noises of appreciation. Well, not here, but anywhere else that served a bacon cheeseburger.

  He finished the rest of the burger in three bites, threw down some cash, and left. His fries and drink were untouched. I looked around the rest of the bar.

  Oanen was still talking to the ugly girl. There was another older guy in a booth, but something about his red eyes as he glanced at me kept me in my seat.

  I really was losing my edge.

  My stomach rumbled, and I looked back at the remnants of old guy’s meal, tempted to take a fry. I reached out and turned the plate.

  “Megan,” came Oanen’s warning voice from across the room.

  I would have turned to grin at him, but my gaze was caught on the green flecks of powder on the edge of the plate.

  “Oanen, there’s more powder here.”

  He rushed to my side. Instead of looking where I pointed, he grabbed my shoulders.

  “Did you eat any?” Worry filled his expression.

  “Of course not.”

  His gaze searched mine before he released me and looked at the plate.

  The bartender walked out from the kitchen. Oanen waved him over and pointed to the powder.

  “It happened again. Do you have someone in back that we can borrow?”

  “Borrow?” I asked.

  “We need someone to eat that so we can follow them.”

  “Yeah,” the bartender said. “I’ve got someone. He needs to come back, though. He’s my nephew and does the dishes.”

  I couldn’t tell which part was more important to him. The relation to the boy or having his dishes washed.

  “Tek! Get out here!”

  A young man close to our age appeared from the back.

  “Eat that,” the bartender said.

  “The fries?”

  “No. The powder on the plate.”

  “Why? It’s not from me. I know that plate was clean when you grabbed it.”

  “It’s not a punishment. Just eat the damn shit.”

  The boy licked his finger, dabbed up the few granules of powder, then swiped it on his tongue. We all watched him, waiting.

  “Doesn’t taste like anything,” the boy said after a few long moments.

  “How long does it take to work?” Oanen asked.

  “The guy ate his whole burger. I only managed a few bites.” I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  We both watched Tek.

  “Work?” he asked. “What was that stuff?”

  “A spell that calls you to a location, I think,” Oanen said.

  “You had me eat a spell, and you don’t even know what it does?” Tek asked, looking a little nervous now.

  Oanen ignored him and focused on the bartender.

  “Who was he? The guy sitting here?”

  “Magroal. A dragon. He lives on one of the islands, but I’m not sure which one.”

  “The Council called Raiden to sniff out a killer,” I said. “Can we call him to see if he can follow Magroal’s trail?”

  The bartender snorted.

  “In New York? Good luck.”

  Oanen shook his head.

  “There’s too many smells here. We’d never find anyone that way.”

  “Okay. Well, how did the powder get on the burger? Maybe we can figure out something that way.”

  Oanen and I went back to review the camera footage. It didn’t take long to rewind the thirty minutes since we had arrived. When we did, my jaw dropped.

  I watched us walk in. Oanen went to the ugly chick. I went to the bar to join the two men sitting there. Two. Directly on the other side of the old dragon sat the hooded man.

  “How?” I said. “We didn’t see him.”

  “A powerful spell,” Oanen said grimly. “He knows we’re looking for him.”

  As we watched, the old dragon lifted his bun. The hooded man reached over and sprinkled the food while the old dragon talked to the bartender. Instead of getting up and leaving, the hooded man waited until the dragon finished the burger then got up with him and followed him out the exit.

  “Wait,” Oanen said, sifting through the camera angles. “There.”

  He paused the video frame. This time, one of the camera’s had captured a clear image of the hooded man’s face. He was younger, just a little older than Oanen and me. We finally had a picture of him.

  I took my phone and snapped a picture.

  “Time to visit the Tabernam,” I said again.

  We checked on Tek before leaving. He still seemed unaffected.

  “Likely because of the low dose,” Oanen said. “Keep an eye on him and call me if anything changes.”

  The bartender nodded.

  Outside, Oanen hesitated on the sidewalk, glancing at me then the sky.

  “I agree,” I said. “You should fly and try to spot him. He can’t have gotten too far.”

  “No, we stick together.”

  “I’ll be fine, Oanen. I’ll drive straight to the Tabernam.”

  “Until someone distracts you. No. We’re together. Always.”

  I didn’t argue as he continued toward the car. He was right. If my rage kicked in, I’d likely drive off the road, trying to get to whoever. But, given how I was feeling, I doubted it would happen. And that wasn’t something I was going to mention to Oanen.

  The drive to the Tabernam didn’t take long, and when we entered the store, the woman came out from behind the counter to greet us.

  “Enforcer. Fury,” she said a bit too loudly. “How can I help you?”

  I took out my phone and showed her a picture of the hooded man.

  “Have you seen him?”

  “Yes. He came in a few weeks ago. I haven’t seen him since, though. And before you ask, I do not know his name or where he lives. All I can give you is a list of the ingredients he purchased.”

  “Good,” Oanen said. “Send it to the Council. If you see him again, call the Council immediately.”

  “Yes, Enforcer.”

  Oanen nodded, and with his hand on my back, we left.

  “You didn’t buy that bull, did you?” I asked.

  “Most of it. I think she told the truth about not knowing his name or address. But I also think she knew someone who would know it. And that someone was probably in the shop.”

  We sat in the car for over an hour, waiting for someone to emerge, but no one did.

  “Should we go back in?”

  “No. Whoever she was warning probably already left another way.”

  He started the car and merged with the light traffic.

  “We have his picture and know he’s part of the nonhuman community since he was in the Gizzard. And, he obviously knows we’re looking for him already if he’s using the cloaking spell. So, let’s start visiting all the nonhuman secret places and asking around. Someone is bound to recognize him.”

  Oanen gave me a wry side glance.

  “This is New York. Do you know how many places there are that cater to only non-humans? And how many more places cater to both? We’ll be searching for weeks.”

  "Then we better get started.”

  * * * *

  Another early morning call woke me.

  “We need to leave our phones in the kitchen on silent from now on,” I mumbled into my pillow.

  “That wouldn’t help us leave here any faster.” Oanen chuckled as he left the bed to answer the call.

  “Hello,” h
e said as he walked from the room.

  As much as I wanted to go back to sleep, I knew that Oanen was right. We’d spent the previous day going from place to place, showing the picture of the hooded man. At most places, no one claimed to have seen him. At a select few of the establishments, he’d been noticed, but no one knew who he was. However, I’d noticed a pattern that might help narrow our search. The hooded man liked to slum it and seemed to only visit places the old and poor would go.

  Thanks to that little bit of information, Oanen and I were looking at a few days more of searching instead of a few weeks.

  I got out of bed and closed myself in the bathroom. Brushing my teeth was a chore. Dark circles ringed my eyes. We’d stayed out too late, and I looked like hell for it. But I shouldn’t have. All nighters shouldn’t have been affecting me at all, physically.

  As I stripped for a shower, I checked the burns. They weren’t looking any better.

  I slipped into the water with a sigh and started washing.

  The door opened.

  “Bad news,” Oanen said. “There was another death. A dragon this time.”

  “Big surprise.”

  “It is. The death happened a few days ago, but the body was discovered this morning.”

  “So not the dragon from yesterday.”

  “Apparently not. Dress warm. We’ll have to fly to this one.”

  The door closed, and I hurried through the rest of my shower. I was a little bummed it wasn’t the dragon from the day before. Not that I wanted him to die, but if it had been him, it would have cleared Nicolette’s name. I didn’t trust the Council’s reason for keeping Nicolette in Uttira.

  However, clearing Eliana’s mom’s name wouldn’t have solved my biggest problem. I needed to figure out how to not die or kill Grandma Irene before we went to talk to her.

  Thankfully, my hope that we’d find the killer yesterday had been too lofty. The city was big and the non-human community too suspicious. That meant I had more time. It also meant, Oanen’s worry would only grow.

  Oanen hadn’t mentioned it when I’d started yawning by eight last night. He’d only stopped at a corner store, like I’d asked, to grab some breakfast food so we wouldn’t need to keep going out. I didn’t mind eating at restaurants, but I didn’t want to waste any more time than necessary…more for Eliana’s sake than my own.