by Lisa Daniels
“I can’t let you be out here unprotected,” was his first attempt at bridging the distance, which felt like a chasm between them. Since when had there been a chasm? They had always been close, hadn’t they? She looked up to him. At one point, she’d wanted to be him, and turn into a dragon, flying through the air and being able to explore the world. Now she was a fully grown woman, with a ferocious mind of her own, wanting to strike out for independence, rather than be dragged down by the schemes of her father. And here he was, to take it all away.
“Bullshit,” Ellie spat. “Father sent you to fetch me back, didn’t he? Well, you can go and tell him this: I’m not coming back. I’m done. I don’t want to be a part of that world anymore.”
“You might have the choice to do that, princess,” Mason said, determined not to budge, “but I don’t. You know this.”
“Yes, yes. He pays you all the money, his word is law. I always used to think you cared about me. I really did.”
That stung. “I do,” Mason said. “I’ve cared for you for so long. I just can’t get fired. I’m sorry.”
“Then you don’t care enough,” Ellie said, and her beautiful face went icy and unwelcome. She was freezing him out more, and he didn’t know what to do to push past this barrier. Meanwhile, Talia Grieves looked as if she very much wanted some popcorn to observe this exchange. Even the werewolf now seemed intrigued. “And everything you did was just a job. Nothing more.”
It wasn’t just a job, Mason thought, a lump now in his throat. “It—” he began, but Ellie cut him off with a few dismissive noises.
“No. Whatever you say, you didn’t just come here for my own good. I no longer require your services, Mason. I’ll get a new guard.”
“Please,” he said, licking his dry lips, not wanting to grab her and fly her to the airport. He didn’t have a permit to fly across borders, because Ellie never left Stoneshire, so he never invested in one. “You have to come back. Your father is worried about you.”
“My father’s moving from that place to do whatever the hell it is Zaimov wants,” Ellie spat. “He just wants me under his thumb, especially after what he did to Mother. He made me think I wanted this, but I didn’t. I didn’t, okay?” Her body language continued to be defensive, and Mason knew there was no way, nothing he could say or do, to get past that. He’d looked after this stubborn girl for that long to know.
“So...” Mason said evenly. “What exactly do you plan to do here, without support?”
“I’m supporting her,” Grieves said. “Or do you not see the huge-ass mansion behind us?”
Ellie’s anger dissipated long enough to chuckle at Talia’s statement.
“You’re a criminal,” Mason insisted. “You’ll hardly be allowed to walk around free.”
“Not if I offer up information to the police,” Ellie retorted. “And I’ve got a lot, haven’t I? I’ve got enough to ruin quite a few of those deadrings and auctions. I even know where one of Zaimov’s houses are. I know about guardian angels. I controlled one for a while, I know how they’re made, and I know how revenants are made, too.” She stood with her chin up, jaw jutting in stubborn pride. “I watched my father experiment for years, after all. You can go back and tell him all this. I’m sure he’d love to hear what a traitor I am.”
Mason felt rather ill. Ellie was quite leisurely blowing up twelve years’ worth of his career to have him possibly be buried in a ditch somewhere. If he went anywhere near Regal with this kind of information, of course. As for Zaimov, well, that was not the kind of person who wanted trade secrets spilled. He’d vanish your body without a trace.
Some of Ellie’s stubbornness faded. Her features softened and her hands went up in an imploring gesture. “I don’t want it to be like this, Mason. I’m just not going back.”
“Looks like you’ve made up your mind.” His voice came out colder than anticipated. “It doesn’t sound like I have a chance of persuading you.” The gulf seemed to widen between them. His own heart felt like it was breaking, though he didn’t show any of it upon his face. If there was one thing he was good at, it was hiding his feelings from the world.
I suppose this is goodbye, then, little one, he thought, the sinking sensation of his heart now around his feet. He didn’t know how to deal with Regal. He’d have to lie, somehow, until he secured a job. But people didn’t really look for low-caste dragon shifters like him. They wouldn’t pay nearly the same wages as Regal did. Thinking too much about his future only served to trigger a mild level of panic that threatened to turn his bowels to water.
“What will happen to your family?” Ellie asked with the slow, uncertain voice of someone who had just realized the unintended consequences of their actions.
“I don’t know,” Mason said dully. “My sister’s just starting college. Semyan’s switching to another course because he didn’t like the one he chose. My mother might get a promotion but she’s not earning enough right now to pay for her apartment.” His mind whirred, trying to think, and then stuck, unable to think any further.
“Why don’t you just pay him?” Talia said then, causing everyone to look at her. “Like, what’s to actually stop you from paying him whatever your father does? Unless you can’t afford it or something.”
She doesn’t have any money, Mason thought, even though the idea swam inside him, leaving a warmer glow inside than before. Regal was taking everything from her to stop any potential escapes, after all. No way would she have enough to last more than a week or so, surely.
Ellie, however, looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure I have enough,” she said. “I’ve saved a lot, even with my father taking most of my earnings. But I don’t—I’d have to be given a bodyguard. Until I’ve got a career of my own.”
Talia nodded, taking this in. Mason’s slight glimmer of hope hid itself again.
Janos cleared his throat, clasping his hands behind his back, taking on a power stance. “If he’s any good at his job, he could be employed as an independent contractor by the police. If Miss Lockhart’s information turns out to be valuable enough to warrant protection.”
“Is that possible?” Ellie said, eyes wide. Mason let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding. “Do the police even do that?”
“Your sister has a cheap bodyguard on a police contract,” Janos pointed out. “I can’t imagine your rate as a small dragon is that high. Is that so, lizard?”
Mason resisted the urge to snap back at this insulting demeanor. “Not as much as others, no.”
“What salary does your current employer give you?”
Mason flushed, unable to control it. He always felt touchy about being approached to talk of his money. Like somehow it showed how inadequate he was. “Twenty-two thousand a year,” he muttered.
Janos let out a horribly derisive laugh. “Man, they’re paying you awful wages. You any good at your job at all?”
“I’m good enough,” Mason snarled, feeling the hot, green rage of his dragon starting to course through his brain. No good… he needed to gain control of himself before he did something he regretted. “I’d thank you not to underestimate me.”
“If you are good, then even the police payment will be an upgrade on your pitiful salary,” Janos said, striding forwards. “Dragons are supposed to be powerful. If you can beat me in a fight, I’ll personally recommend you myself to the precinct.” A wolfish grin spread over Janos’ features.
Mason regarded him coolly, knowing bipedal werewolves could overwhelm dragons three times his size, simply due to their nimbleness to leap and bite down on the vulnerable parts of the dragon. There were few spots where a dragon could be hurt, but just enough for a powerful werewolf’s jaws to take advantage of, that even a human bullet couldn’t.
“Ellie,” Mason said urgently, drawing her attention. “I ask you this. Do you want me as your protector? Even though I have ties to your father?”
Her bottom lip trembled. “Of course I do, you great oaf. Who else would I want?”
How strange, that sensation of relief flooding through him. How strange. “I’ll accept your foolish challenge then, wolf.”
“Excellent,” Janos purred, baring his teeth into a twisted, predatory smile. “I look forward to thoroughly whipping dragon ass.”
Talia sighed. “Boys and their games,” she said, gently tugging Ellie back to a safe vantage point.
“Conditions?” Mason stepped away from Janos, who was practically slavering at the mouth, the wildness in his eyes already showing.
“First one to admit surrender loses, of course. Also, try not to kill each other too much,” he said, before beginning his transformation. Mason embraced his inner dragon, letting the fire within spread out and tingle over his skin, letting the wings erupt from his back. His muscles were stronger, more clustered and capable, encased in steely, green scales. The sac in his mouth swelled with air, ready to mix with his body chemicals and produce flame.
A howl left the werewolf’s mouth, before he charged with frightening speed toward Mason.
One good thing about being a small dragon, Mason thought grimly, as he dodged quickly, using a simple bat of his wings for a quick turn to allow his tail to whip the werewolf’s body, is that I’m more nimble.
Maybe not as nimble as a werewolf, but as long as he had enough open space for his wings, he could execute fast changes in direction and speed. Janos turned, heels digging in the grass, leaving a long skid mark along it, and lunged at the dragon, getting a grip on Mason’s stocky, horse-like neck. Mason grunted and carried them both into the air, doing five quick barrel rolls in succession, causing Janos to tumble and slide off.
With the full weight of his body, Mason slammed into Janos like a cannonball, sending the werewolf bouncing. That damn werewolf seemed to be made of diamond or something, because he just got right back up without any issue whatsoever.
Goddammit. He dodged one more attack by Janos, then slapped the werewolf with one wing. When Janos dug claws into the wing, that was what triggered Mason to spray the chemical into his air sac and blast out twin streams of flame from his jaws.
Janos barely avoided the flames, but there was a distinct smell of sizzled fur. A sharp bite to his tail made Mason rear up in anger and spread out his wings to throw off the offender. One frantic lunge later, he and the werewolf grappled in an ungainly manner on the ground, both of similar strength—though perhaps Mason was stronger—and they raked at each other’s chests. Werewolf claws unfortunately could damage the scales, and there were soon some bloody scratches along both of their chests.
“Okay, you’ve murdered each other enough!” Talia screamed from the observation table. “Stop it! Stop it now! Or I’ll set a bunch of undead pets on you!”
Within two breaths they were separated, panting, biting down on their growls and urges to attack. Mason was the first to regain control of his mind and body, shifting into his slender human form. Janos followed a moment later, and they both critically examined the damage inflicted upon each other. Though their clothes remained intact in human form, the wounds didn’t transition, so the blood started seeping onto their shirts. Mason instantly tore at his, because he only had one other shirt in his collection, but there was still a rather nasty set of blotches upon the inside.
“Drat,” he muttered. Then he looked up at the werewolf. “Was that good enough for you? Or do you need to extend this fight further?”
“Oh no, no,” Janos said, disentangling his own shirt. “I think you’ve proved you’re not weak at all. Maybe weak for a dragon… but not weak. You can match up with the standard bodyguards, no problem.” He wiped at his mouth. “I’m sure the police would be interested in hiring you. If that’s what is wanted.”
A squeal of excitement echoed from behind, accompanied by the sound of running. “Mason! Will you? Can you? Oh, please say yes! You can be free of my father! You can get a pay raise!”
Mason unleashed a grin at her sudden, uninhibited joy, and a giddy sense of relief continued to waft through him as well, beautiful and fresh as a summer’s breeze.
“Yes,” he said. “I’ll do it.”
Now she couldn’t control it. She hugged him in utter delight. He tried not to wince as she flung her arms around him, and he copied the motion. This discomfort and pain was nothing, he told himself, if they had closed the chasm between them. Because god, that was an awful place to be.
When they moved away, he saw that there were bloodstains all down her front, over the blue shirt, and it seemed to him in that moment that they’d committed a blood pact of sorts.
“I’ll tell my sister,” Talia said, beaming. “She’ll make it happen. You see if she doesn’t.”
“She better,” Ellie growled. “I’m not planning to lose my Mason if I can help it.”
“Sorry,” Mason said.
“Sorry?”
“That I caused this… for you to leave.”
“You didn’t. My father did. It meant that I had to leave you as well, since you were on his payroll. I didn’t want to—but the choices were limited.”
“Why did you want a clean break from all of this? You used to like doing what you did.”
“I thought I did. It was just a nice lie I told myself,” Ellie confirmed, shrugging. “I don’t want to be collateral damage for Zaimov if my father can’t do what he’s asking. And I know my father would be moving, too. No way he isn’t.”
With her smiling so happily, making the world a brighter place, he didn’t have the heart to tell her that technically he’d betrayed her trust in arriving here, since he had looked into her private communications and found her that way. Not when there was a chance to start fresh, and not have the shadow of Regal and the underworld digging its claws into them.
Mason had always been terrified, at the back of his mind, that he was exposing his own family to danger by working with these people. By going to such places. His fears lessened from the knowledge that he never talked about them, but you ideally didn’t want to piss off necromancers who could then set an army of dead people on you. How many times had he seen those fights, and the unrestrained ferocity of two animated corpses lunging at each other?
How many times had he seen Regal and Ellie fight, with more skill than the rest of the competition?
Too many times.
Ellie took him on an enthusiastic tour of the mansion, followed by Talia and Janos, once they had cleaned up the blood and seen the shifter’s accelerated healing taking care of the wounds.
Such a big place, with many security holes, Mason thought, not entirely comfortable with the idea of multiple rooms and potentially secret passageways, and an alternative entrance into the mansion from a small, locked bunker positioned just outside which used to be the servants’ back entrance to the cottages they would have lived in, once upon a time. But even those cautious observations couldn’t shake from him the feeling of gladness. Ellie still wanted him in her life, and he honestly couldn’t see, couldn’t imagine ever doing this job for anyone else. She’d been his first job, and the money made was the gateway out for so many members of his family, low caste and worthless in their part of society.
Hell, in the past, his kind were used for lighting fires and keeping furnaces going. They were excluded from congregations, excluded from anything that mattered. The greenskin dragons with their cursed green fire and lack of worth.
He wasn’t worthless to Ellie. He followed her, the ghost of a smile upon his face, allowing himself to sink into the memories. First meeting her as a disheveled, snotty brat, drunk on the love of her mother, lonely from the absence of her father, and promptly deciding that she and Mason were going to have the Best Fun Ever.
They did have a lot of Best Fun Together, since it was nice to be with someone who didn’t have any concerns about the world or think about adult problems at the time. Then when her mother had died… when her father took control of her mother’s guardian angel spirit…
It all started going a little more wrong from there.
“So, were you ever in any danger at all? Did Mason need to use any heroics to save you?” Talia asked, clearly interested in their past. “Or was it low-drama?”
“Oh, he’s gotten me out of some sticky situations over the years,” Ellie said brightly.
“Name your worst.”
“Hmm, let me think… probably the time when I was ganged up on by about six kids in school, and they wanted to do serious damage to me—one had a switchblade. Mason swooped in and scared them all off.”
“Oh, wow. Someone honestly had a switchblade?”
“Guess they’re easy to sneak in. I’ve had harassment, people spitting. The usual. I don’t think anyone seriously tried to kill me before, apart from those kids. What about you?”
“Eh… I can think of a few,” Talia replied, sharing a rather knowing smirk with her bodyguard. “Mason sounds like a good one.”
Mason brimmed with pride from behind, not exactly too opposed to listening. He remembered the incident with the gang of kids, too. Generally an awful ringleader with friends who were followers and did anything he asked—including threaten, beat up, and possibly kill a girl with necromancer powers.
Not hard to overthrow, but the sheer malice of them was not encouraging for Ellie, putting her off higher education, compounded by her dad’s persuasions and what happened with her mother. Mason also needed to take emergency time off, to deal with issues in his own family, like when his mother went down the drug route, and his oldest brother had witnessed a murder, and generally all-round bad news.
Somewhere along the line, he’d lost an Ellie he thought he knew, and found one stranger, wilder, less prone to listen. Yet there was still always that old bond between them that persisted through all those years, even when Regal had first asked his daughter if she wanted a new and better guard than a low-caste dragon.
All that remained now was to see if he’d get approved for police protection. Otherwise, his options looked just as glum as before.
