by C. J. Hill
That didn’t seem like a good sign.
Aaron walked to the bookcase and ran a finger across the top of a row, not looking at titles but at the condition of the books. He passed over nearly ten with perfect, crisp pages before he found one that showed signs of use. Like the dragon encyclopedia, it hadn’t just been flipped through; it had been read multiple times. He pulled it from the shelf. The cover showed a dragon and a sword-wielding knight.
Their mother wouldn’t have bought this book. Jacob must have gotten it for himself.
That’s when dread first took hold in Aaron’s chest.
He ran his fingers along the top of the books again until he found the next worn novel among the ignored ones: The Hobbit. It had a dragon in the story too. Aaron put it down and went through the next shelf, pulling out three more books. Every one of them was about dragons. After that, he went through the next shelf, flipping books out to see which ones had been read.
The dragon ones. Always the dragon ones. How had Aaron missed this about his brother—that he only read dragon books? Aaron knew the answer to that question as soon as it crossed his mind. Jacob hid it because Aaron had told him that liking dragons was the same as liking Santa and his globe-trotting reindeer.
The sight of all the books lying in a pile made Aaron’s stomach clench. Jacob was obsessed with dragons. He was going to be drawn to fight them. Just like that boy Nathan.
Their mother had told him the story about Dr. B’s brother, how he’d snuck onto the Overdrake’s plantation and been killed. She’d told the story with sadness and warning in her voice. She’d told the story to convince Aaron to never try to contact his father or anyone on that side of his family. They were ruthless people, the Overdrakes.
Now the story seemed like a horrible omen.
He shut his eyes but saw the dragon’s enormous, clawed legs stretching out.
“Hey, look at this one,” Jacob said, bringing Aaron’s attention back to the room. He held up his latest silverware creation.
Aaron didn’t have to ask what it was supposed to be; he could tell by the wings and tail. A dragon.
“Pretty good, huh? Too bad for the dragon that I’m better.” Jacob wadded up the silverware into a tangled, useless ball, then tossed it across the room into his garbage can. He let out a cheer when he made the shot.
It’s won’t be that easy to get rid of them, Aaron wanted to say. They’re huge. They can cut you in half with one swipe of a claw. He didn’t say any of that. It wouldn’t matter. Jacob was a Slayer.
Sooner or later, Overdrake would attack the country with his dragons. How many years would it be until Jacob felt compelled to fight them? How long would it take for Aaron’s father to kill all the Slayers?
Aaron didn’t know what he needed to do to save Jacob, only that he had to do something. For a moment, he considered going to the Slayers for help, but quickly dismissed the idea. The Slayers wouldn’t help to keep Jacob out of the fight. Dr. B wanted to train him, and then Jacob would die fighting with them. If Aaron wanted to keep his brother alive, he’d have to find a way to do it himself.
He paced some more. Only one solution seemed to have a chance of working. Aaron would have to give Overdrake what he wanted.
Chapter 13
When Tori got home at nine, Brindy, the family’s German shepherd, met her at the door, waving her tail in furry arcs. Her parents were considerably less enthusiastic about her arrival. Her father called Tori into the kitchen using a tone that suggested they’d be there a while.
She slinked into the room, all apologies. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where I was going beforehand. I forgot about my date with Jesse, and he was really hurt. I had to go with him to make up for it.”
Tori’s father was tall, stately, and the source of her honey-brown hair and green eyes. Now he folded his arms and trained those green eyes on her. “You know the rules. When you want to go somewhere, you ask us. You don’t tell us after the fact. We need to know what you’re doing, who you’re with, and when you’ll be back. That would be true even if you weren’t a candidate’s daughter.”
Her mother’s blonde hair was styled and she wore a pair of black pants with matching blazer. She’d obviously been at some function earlier. She was emptying out the dishwasher, setting the dishes down extra hard in the cupboard. “You can’t just disappear whenever you feel like it. I thought you’d learned that lesson after your last grounding, but obviously not.”
“I did learn it,” Tori said. “That’s why I texted you from the movie, even though the theaters spend like, five minutes before each film telling you not to.”
Her mother kept clanging plates, unappeased. “We know why you’re sneaking off, and it has got to stop.”
A breath lodged in Tori’s throat. Could her parents know about the Slayers? Had someone seen her fly away from the Kennedy Center? Or worse, did anyone know what she’d done in North Carolina?
Her mother shut a cupboard and turned to face Tori. “I’m sorry that you and your boyfriend find your bodyguard bothersome, but you’ll have to learn to deal with it.”
They didn’t know. It was both a relief and a disappointment. A disappointment because she hated keeping secrets from them.
“Well, there is that,” Tori said. “Having Lars following me around sort of kills the romantic atmosphere.”
“I can live with that,” her father said.
He had three bodyguards who rotated the duty of watching him whenever he left the house, a fourth who went with her mother or sister as needed, and a fifth who drove Tori to and from school. Her parents could claim Lars was primarily a driver, but one look at his six-foot-five frame or the holster tucked not so inconspicuously in his suit coat, and everyone knew he was more than a chauffeur.
Lately, whenever Tori went out in public, her parents sent Lars with her. It had become a hassle. In order to make it to her Slayer practices, she had to pretend she was going to a safe place like a friend’s house and insist on driving herself.
Her mother wiped a rag energetically at a spot on the counter. “You have to take precautions. Any guy who doesn’t understand that isn’t worth your time.”
Tori turned to her dad pleadingly. The country thought he was strong and decisive. In family matters, though, her mother was the strict one. He was the one who spoiled her.
He shook his head at her now. “Don’t give me that look. I think every teenage girl should have a bodyguard. And speaking of unauthorized dates, when are you going to bring Jesse over and introduce him to us? I don’t like you running around with people I haven’t met.”
Bringing Jesse here would only complicate matters. Her parents would ask about what his parents did and where he lived, and then her father would undoubtedly do a background check. For the time being, Jesse was undercover. His parents had quit their jobs and disappeared. How would that sort of thing look to her father?
Tori forced out a sigh. “I don’t want you to meet him unless, you know, we’re really serious. I mean, you guys aren’t like normal parents.”
Tori’s mom tilted her head in a questioning manner. “We’re not normal parents?”
Her dad nodded. “I think what she meant to say is that we’re better than normal.”
“I mean,” Tori said, “your security detail would frisk him or something.”
Her father flipped through a couple of pieces of mail that lay on the counter. “Only if he’s a Democrat.”
“See?” Tori said. “That’s what I’m talking about. It would turn into an awkward political thing. It’s better if Jesse and I meet in private. That way I don’t have to worry about the media finding out about him and harassing him.”
Her mother lifted a finger, making a point. “I’m sorry your father’s job is putting a crimp in your social life, but sometimes we have to make sacrifices. From now on, you will let us know about your plans so we can approve them and decide whether you need extra security. No more keeping things from us. Understand?”
>
“I understand,” Tori said. What else could she say?
“And you have to show Lars more consideration,” her mother went on. “He was trying to keep an eye on you and...” She shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know what you did, but the man is convinced you scaled down the side of the Kennedy Center to get away from him.”
Tori let out a small, guilty cough. “I wouldn’t do that. At least, not in a skirt and heels.”
Her mother went back to wiping the counter. “To help you remember that you need to follow our rules, you’re grounded next weekend.”
The edict had been unavoidable, but even so, the unfairness chaffed. She’d been out trying to protect the country. “Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “I don’t suppose you and Dad ever went out without telling your parents where you were, or without toting around a large, humorless man who resembles Arnold Schwarzenegger.”
Her father laughed, but stopped when her mother sent him a glare.
Tori headed out of the room, then remembered Bianca’s information and turned back. “Dad, you shouldn’t trust Venezuela. They’re up to something.”
Now it was her mother’s turn to laugh. “You must have had some interesting conversations on your date.”
Her father didn’t smile. His eyebrows drew together in question. “What do you know about Venezuela?”
She couldn’t tell him the truth, so she shrugged and found a vague explanation. “Their leaders don’t seem to have America’s best interests at heart.” She walked out of the kitchen before he could ask her more questions.
After a few moments, her father spoke to her mother in a voice low enough that Tori shouldn’t have been able to hear him. “We know one thing about Jesse now. He must be the son of someone on the foreign relations subcommittee. Those are the only people who know that Venezuela asked permission to do training sessions near our shores.”
The comment stopped Tori in her tracks. She stood in the hallway, waiting for him to say more. He didn’t, at least not about Venezuela, but what he’d already said made her heart pound. Was Venezuela taking steps to get into a better tactical position to attack? She wanted to run back to the kitchen and tell her father everything about Overdrake.
She couldn’t reveal her Slayer identity, though. Her parents didn’t even want her to go on dates without a bodyguard. They weren’t about to let her fly off on missions to fight dragons. She walked up the stairs, went to her room, and called Dr. B.
She relayed the information, finishing with, “We’ve got to let the authorities know Venezuela is up to something.”
His answer came over the speaker in reassuring tones. “I’m doing what I can to inform key officials. That’s all we can do. If we let anyone know about us, we’ll only end up jeopardizing ourselves. Remember, Overdrake has agents in the government.”
After Tori hung up, she felt even more exasperated and powerless. Bad things were going to happen, and she couldn’t do a thing to stop any of them.
She opened her laptop, logged on to talk to Dirk, and stared at his icon. She ached to tell him about his mother. He should know that his mom hadn’t wanted to leave him. He should know that when she saw his picture, she cried.
Yet if Tori told Dirk about Bianca, he’d want to know how she’d been found and why they’d talked. He’d ask all kinds of questions. When Tori refused to answer, he might look for his mother himself. Finding her would lead him to finding his brothers.
She couldn’t risk that. And yet, if Dirk knew about his mother, knew she loved and missed him, was there even the smallest of possibilities of him leaving his father to live with her?
Finally she wrote, I’ve been thinking about you and what you said. Maybe I should learn more about my dragon lord side. I can’t agree to meet you anywhere, not when I’m worried I could be walking into a trap. Could you teach me some other way?
A pathetic attempt to learn how to control dragons without letting on that she wanted the information to defeat him.
She didn’t hear back from Dirk right away, but hadn’t expected to. She got ready for bed then checked her laptop again. Dirk had written back.
What do you have in mind?
She typed, How about a video? You could do your own version of How to Train Your Dragon. Be sure to include scenes where they look adorable instead of deadly.
A few seconds later, his reply showed up. I don’t think so. If you want to learn about dragons, you’ll have to do it firsthand. And you’ll have to trust me.
His answer sounded terse. Was Dirk mad because she’d turned him down the first time? Or . . . a thought flashed through her mind. What if Overdrake had discovered that she and Dirk communicated this way? He might be the one writing. He might be the one trying to set up a meeting, not Dirk.
She nearly asked him to speak to her near a dragon, but decided against it. If Overdrake didn’t know Dirk talked to her like that, she didn’t want to tell him.
I’ll talk to you later, she wrote, and then closed her laptop. She’d wait until she heard his voice and was certain a message came from him before she wrote again.
Chapter 14
Jesse was the last to be dropped off. For him, home was the hotel his family lived in while Dr. B worked out the last few relocation details. Jesse was used to the extra time with Dr. B, and was sure he planned to drive Jesse home last so he could talk about the teams. Usually he asked how Willow and Ryker were coming along, or commented on ways the captains could better utilize their players’ skills during practice rounds.
Dr. B was the sort of person who had an almost unnerving calmness about him. He may not have inherited any super powers, but he had the ability to approach every situation like a military strategist. During Jesse’s first year at camp, he’d learned not to expect more than mild sympathy for injuries sustained while fighting. Dr. B. didn’t console the Slayers; he handed out advice on how not to get injured next time.
During the ride tonight, Dr. B spoke in that same calm tone. “Although the mission didn’t yield the results we wanted, the teamwork was flawless. Everyone executed their orders well.”
Jesse didn’t comment. He was still bothered that Tori had forgotten the code for backup and didn’t seem to think fighting three guys by herself was a big deal. If months of practice should have taught her anything, it was that overconfidence led to a quick death.
“I’ve been thinking about Tori,” Dr. B continued.
Something he and Jesse had in common.
“How do you think she’ll take it,” Dr. B asked, “when Ryker replaces her as captain?”
Jesse tensed. “Are you trading out positions now?”
“Not yet. Ryker still needs more practice. Perhaps within a month or two. It makes sense to have the flying counterparts lead the groups.”
It did make sense, especially since Tori had a hard time getting away for practices. Both teams probably expected the change, including Tori. Still, Jesse felt a sting of resentment on her behalf. “I don’t know,” he said. “The last dragon lord you demoted didn’t take it so well.”
Dr. B just laughed. “Point taken. But you trust her? Implicitly?”
“Don’t you?” Jesse asked.
“After Dirk, I’m not sure I can completely trust anyone. But for now, yes, I do.” Dr. B’s gaze cut over to Jesse. “I’m afraid that if her loyalties change, you may be the last to realize it.” He didn’t add, although the implication was clear, Love is blind.
“Her genetics don’t matter,” Jesse said. “She’s chosen to be a Slayer.”
“Her genetics matter very much to Overdrake. He’ll want to convert or neutralize any other dragon lords. We may be able to conceal Aaron, but Overdrake knows where Tori lives and where she goes to school. I’m afraid even her father’s bodyguards might not be enough to protect her.”
“So we’d better change that,” Jesse said.
“Change a presidential candidate’s home?”
“We’re Slayers. We can find a wa
y to change anything.” Jesse considered the problem, planning out a strategy. “Especially if we have some explosives.”
Chapter 15
On Sunday afternoon while Tori was in her room doing math homework, her father walked in. “I got a message from my office. A guy called claiming to know you and insisted he talk with you. Said it was urgent.”
Dirk, she thought, and wondered what was so important. “Who was it?”
“An Aaron Smith.”
Oh, Aaron. She hoped he was calling to give her helpful information and not a bill for damages to his house. “Yeah, I probably should talk to him. Did he leave a number?”
Her father dropped the paper on the end of her bed, giving her an annoyed look as he did. “My office shouldn’t double as the relationship coordinator for your love life. And what about Jesse? Did something happen with him?”
“No.” Tori picked up the paper. “Aaron is just a guy I know. And he’s way too young for me.”
“If you ask me, you’re way too young for any of this. Boys can’t be trusted, you know.”
Tori started on her next math problem. “Weren’t you a boy once?”
“Nope, I’ve always been a father.” He left the room and shut the door.
A Skype account was written on the paper with the words, “Call me.” She went to her laptop and did. Almost immediately Aaron appeared on the screen. He wore a white T-shirt and was leaning back in a chair, striking a pose that looked more like a businessman than a seventh grader. His blond hair was smoothed back, and his blue eyes had a confident gleam to them. His resemblance to Dirk struck her all over again.
“I see your mother told you who I am,” Tori said.
“I figured it out myself. There aren’t too many senators’ daughters my mother would recognize.”
Tori hoped she wasn’t about to regret taking off her helmet. If he was planning some sort of blackmail . . . “What did you want to talk to me about?”
