Dragon Blood

by Linsey Hall

Clearly, he was waiting for me to show him mine. I would rather have torn off my shirt. Instead, I sucked in a deep breath. I could tell him just a little bit. Not the most dangerous stuff, but enough to get him off my back.

  “Swear you won’t tell anyone?” I already knew the answer. I could sort the good guys from the bad guys in the same way I could determine if people were telling the truth.

  He was a good guy.

  His stories said it. Who he was said it. When he’d healed me, the connection had given me insight into who he was.

  I could trust him, at least with this little bit of info. He worked for a secret organization, and so did I. We’d keep that secret for each other, and if I told him, he’d trust me more.

  “Course not.” He smiled gently, as if he understood why I would ask.

  And he did. We both had our secrets that we kept from the world. Two peas in a pod. A very violent pod, given our professions. But a pod, all the same.

  “I’m a member of the Council of Demon Slayers.”

  Understanding lit his eyes. “Of course. It explains why you insist on killing them. And why you didn’t like me at first.”

  “Freaking bounty hunter, always getting in the way and swooping up my catch. I really don’t like your kind, you know.” I winked. Clearly it was different now that I knew who he worked for.

  “But you like me.”

  “Kinda.”

  “You told me your secret.”

  “Yep.” I still couldn’t believe I’d done it. But it felt good. It had been a burden too long. And it wasn’t the big secret anyway. That would require a lot more trust. The kind I’d probably never develop.

  “But you also use the demon blood in your blood sorcery business, right?”

  “I do. Multitasking. And it’s good cover.”

  “Why all the secrecy, though? I know that the Council of Demon Slayers likes to keep their operatives secret. You’d be a target if demons knew you could kill them for good.”

  “Exactly.” It was one of a demon’s greatest strengths. Most times, if they were killed on earth, they’d wake up back in their underworld, ready to try again. Like a video game. It made them extra aggressive and bold, since they knew that no death was permanent.

  Unless I delivered it.

  “Working undercover is one of our main job descriptions. Like a spy,” I added. “It’s easier to catch them when it’s not widely known what I am.”

  I didn’t mention my childhood, or hiding from my family. Or my dragon blood.

  He’d never know about those things.

  Exhaustion was pulling at me, anyway.

  Declan’s strong hand closed around mine, and warmth flowed through me.

  “There’s more to you than all of this,” he said. “But thank you for telling me what you do.”

  “Yeah.” Sleep pulled at me.

  I drifted off, my mind totally focused on the feeling of Declan’s hand around mine.

  I slept.

  At some point—I don’t know when—Syra’s voice echoed down the stairs. “Wake up! Trouble’s coming!”

  I bolted upright, my heart leaping into my throat. Next to me, Declan did the same. We were out of bed a second later, racing up the little stairs to the main deck.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Declan looked at Syra. “Are we nearly to the triangle?”

  “I think so. And we need to be ready.” She sniffed the air.

  All I could smell was the fresh ocean breeze, but she seemed to be looking for something. Her brow was creased with worry.

  The air smelled different in the Bermuda Triangle? Maybe it was the magic.

  “There, that’s it.” She sniffed again. “Smell that?”

  Declan sniffed. “It doesn’t smell any different.”

  “You’ll sense it later, because it is definitely there. Dark magic.”

  I didn’t smell anything either. “What kind of supernatural are you, anyway?”

  “Siren.” She gestured to the sea around us. “So this is kind of my thing.”

  “No wonder you can sense danger.” Magic prickled lightly against my skin. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel good either. “I can feel it.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Second signature picking up. I smelled it first, but that’s what it feels like. We’re entering the triangle.”

  The air seemed to shimmer around us, and I swallowed hard. “I think I see it.”

  “Yeah, we’re fully in it now.” She slowed the boat, inspecting our surroundings. “It’s huge, so keep your eyes peeled for anything that looks different. Or feels different.”

  “We’re just going to feel our way through?” Declan asked.

  “Basically.” She shrugged. “I have a knack for the sea. Even the haunted sea. You don’t have to worry. Much.”

  “How many islands are in the Bermuda Triangle?” I searched the horizon for anything out of the ordinary, but I saw nothing except sparkling teal sea and blue sky.

  “A lot. No one knows how many. But I’ve heard of Eleuthera. It’s an emerald gem of an island, or so they say. A pirate’s island.”

  “X marks the spot?” Declan asked.

  “Exactly.” She grinned. “And if anyone can find this island, it’s me.”

  Damn, we were lucky to have found her. Not only was she a skilled captain, she was a siren. Beyond singing and being mistresses of the deep, I didn’t know what they were capable of. But her confidence was a comfort.

  Overhead, the clouds began to darken. Within seconds, they were swirling ominously overhead.

  Syra looked up. “That’s not good.”

  Thunder cracked, but there was no lightning to follow it. The thunder shook my bones, so where was the flash of light? The wind picked up drastically, whipping my hair back from my face. It was so shockingly cold that goose bumps rose on my skin.

  “That’s not thunder.” Syra’s face turned white. “You’re going to want to hold on. This is going to take some fancy steering.”

  She turned the boat right, keeping it into the wind.

  The clouds were lowering, cutting out the sun. Swirls of dark gray and black surrounded us, cold mist and wind. The ocean turned an iron gray.

  My heart thundered in my ears as the weather turned foul.

  “What is it?” Declan shouted over the roar of the thunder.

  “An angry wind god!” Syra squinted into the darkness ahead of us. “Hang on!”

  She maneuvered expertly, keeping the front of the boat facing the storm. “We’re almost out of it!”

  But the winds changed faster than the boat could accommodate. They caught us from the side, lifting the boat into the air.

  I clung to the railing. “What the hell is happening?”

  The winds raised us high over the ocean surface, buffeting us about. This shouldn’t be possible. The boat rose on the wind, ten feet up. Twenty feet. Thirty feet above sea level.

  We rocked and pitched, as if we were a toy clutched in the hand of an angry god.

  Fear iced my skin.

  We are in trouble.

  Nerves chilling my skin. “This isn’t how physics works!”

  “It’s how the wind god works, and he’s got us now!” Syra looked around the boat, eyes sharp and clever. “We should have stolen a sailboat.”

  “We need a sail?” Declan asked.

  “Yeah.” Her face brightened. “Go check the cabin. Get the biggest bed sheet you can find. No—get the blanket. The sheet will be too thin for this wind.”

  Declan stumbled into the cabin, fighting the rocking of the wind.

  “What else do you need?” I shouted.

  “Rope! And that angel is gonna have to fly.”

  “On it.” I clung to the railing as the wind threatened to catch me. The boat pitched in midair as I scrambled toward the rope that was tied off to the back of the boat.

  I crouched low, wrapping an arm around the railing as I called a dagger from the ether and cut the rope off from where i
t was tied.

  I surged upright, finding Syra moving away from the wheel. She’d given up trying to keep us on course. The rudder was way too small to catch the wind.

  Declan appeared in the doorway to the cabin, a big white quilt in his hands. “Will this do?”

  “Yeah!” Swiftly, Syra untied another rope from the side of the boat. “Bring it here.”

  Declan handed her the blanket. She cut two holes in the bottom corners and threaded the ropes through, then tied them off.

  I hung onto the boat as I watched, nearly blasted overboard by the wind.

  Finished, she looked up at us. “This idea is insane, but it’s all I’ve got.” She held up both ropes. “There’s no mast on a speedboat, but we still need a sail to catch the wind and drive us back down to the ocean surface. So we’re going to tie off the bottom corners of this blanket to the middle of the boat.” She pointed at Declan. “Then you, angel boy, are going to fly the top half of this blanket up into the air.”

  She had a crazed look in her eyes, as if she knew how insane this was but didn’t care.

  “Then we have a crappy sail,” I said. “And we just need to catch the right gust of wind.”

  She pointed at me. “Exactly.”

  “This is insane,” Declan said.

  “This is the Bermuda Triangle.” Syra grinned, clearly unafraid of death. “And if you believe in a higher power, I’d suggest praying. Because yeah, this is nuts.”

  I grabbed one of the ropes that was tied to a corner of the blanket. “Where’s the best spot?”

  Syra pointed to the right side of the boat, roughly halfway between the front and the back. “Tie it off around there. I’ll do the other side. And you, angel boy, get ready to fly.”

  Declan saluted.

  I moved forward on the deck, keeping low to the ground and making sure that I was always holding on to something sturdy. I found a silver metal fixture—a cleat, I thought it was called—and tied off the rope. Syra did the other side.

  I turned to Declan, whose wings flared at his back, dark and gleaming. He grabbed the blanket, and flew up about ten feet, as far as he could. It was clearly a struggle to fly against the wind, but he managed to make a sail.

  Unfortunately, the wind didn't catch it. At least, not in the direction we needed.

  “Come on!” Syra shouted. “We need our weight at the front of the boat to help point us downward.”

  I scrambled around the side of the quilt and crawled to the bow. Please let this work.

  She and I didn’t weigh all that much combined. Not compared to the speedboat. We positioned ourselves at the very front, where it terminated in a sharp point, and I felt the boat dip just slightly.

  My heart thundered in my ears as the wind tore at my hair.

  In the air, Declan struggled against the wind, trying to get the sail to catch it in a way that would send us back toward the ocean surface.

  This is the most insane, impossible thing I’ve ever done.

  And it wasn’t working.

  12

  No matter what we did, the wind just wouldn't cooperate.

  Crap.

  Fear and icy wind chilled me to my bones.

  If we failed, Magic’s Bend was screwed.

  There was only one thing to do. I didn't hesitate, just lowered my hand by my side, where Syra couldn’t see it. Quickly, I sliced by finger with my nail. Blood welled.

  I called upon my magic, upon the gift of my dragon’s blood. I imagined controlling the wind, molding it to my will. At first, nothing happened. I tried harder, pushing my magic outward. It swelled on the air, and even I could feel it. The sound of birds chirping. My signature.

  Syra looked at me, confused. “What are you doing?”

  I ignored her. It took everything I had to get ahold of the wind—and even then, I could only control a bit of it.

  I envisioned a column of wind shooting at the sail from exactly the right angle, driving us downward. I was behind the sail, so I couldn't see if the clouds looked different, but eventually, the white blanket bulged toward us, wind filling it.

  The boat began to lower toward the water’s surface.

  “That’s it! Keep going!” Syra shouted.

  I didn’t know if she was talking to me or Declan, but I kept up the effort, trying to drive the wind into the sail. It slowed a bit, weakening, and I squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating. Blood dripped from my finger to cover my hand, and the more I bled, the stronger the magic was.

  It was screwed up, really.

  But it was working. When I peeked my eyes open, we were nearly to the surface of the water.

  “Come on!” Syra shouted. “We need to get the bow up. Go to the back!”

  I scrambled after her, my white blood dripping on the white deck as I followed her. I didn’t give up on the wind, though, sending it right into the sail. Declan was still aloft, struggling against the breeze.

  Syra and I crouched at the back of the boat. Our weight barely did anything, so I tried to change the wind’s direction. I didn't want it blowing quite so hard downward anymore.

  The boat leveled out, finally hitting the water with a hard splash. I let go of my magic, letting it fade. My signature disappeared from the air.

  Syra leapt for the steering wheel and pushed up on the throttle so the engine roared. She steered us into the wind, gunning it away from the storm.

  The wind seemed to have lessened some, as if the wind god had given up. Declan landed on the deck, and I hurried toward him and grabbed the white blanket to wipe my blood away. The liquid blended with the fabric.

  “Are you all right?” I shouted.

  “Yeah. We got lucky there.” But he gave me a searching look, as if he almost didn’t believe the words.

  “Totally lucky!” I turned from him, checking on Syra.

  Her face was slightly more relaxed now, though that didn’t say much. She met my gaze and shouted, “We’re almost out of it!”

  “Thank fates.” I joined her.

  Within a few minutes, the wind had dropped to a breeze. I collapsed into the chair next to Syra’s, which she never used. “Quick thinking there.”

  “I’m just glad we made it out.” She stared straight ahead, navigating us across the sparkling blue water.

  “Without the wind, this place is paradise.” Declan leaned over the rail and looked down into the water.

  “That’s the thing about paradise,” Syra said. “When it goes bad, it goes bad.”

  The sea was flat and the breeze light as Syra headed toward the horizon. Occasionally, she looked at the fancy navigation equipment and modified her course.

  I caught her eye. “I thought you said you didn’t know where you were going?”

  “I don’t, not exactly. But I’m setting a course due west-northwest, which is roughly where Eleuthera is supposed to be. As we get closer, there will hopefully be clues to get us right on the dot.”

  I turned to search the sea around us. “What kind of clues?”

  “That kind.” She pointed straight ahead, and I spun to look.

  Two massive pillars of rock rose out of the ocean. They were like little mountains with a channel of water between them.

  “Should we go around them?” I asked.

  “Can’t. I’ve heard of these before.” She looked around the deck. “Can you find us some line? Really long. Way longer than what we used for the sail. Look inside the hatches at the bow and stern.”

  “Sure.” I headed to the bow while Declan went to the stern.

  She slowed as we approached the jagged little mountains.

  I crouched at the hatch and pulled on the steel ring, lifting up the white plastic door. A coiled rope lay within. “Jackpot.”

  I pulled it out and hurried back to Syra. Declan had a similar rope gripped in his hand.

  “What’s coming?” Declan asked.

  “Whirlpool.” The seriousness of Syra’s voice made me swallow hard.

  “Whirlpool?” Holy fates
.

  “Big one. Be ready to tie the lines off to one of those cleats.” She pointed to the metal fixtures at the side of the boat, right in the middle. “I’ll tell you when. And brace yourselves.”

  I watched the small mountains approach as Syra steered us toward the gap between them. The air seemed to sparkle with magic and menace.

  I shared a quick glance with Declan, then looked back.

  The rock cliffs rose high on either side as we entered the channel. Smaller peaks of rock rose up from them like tiny mountains.

  The water ahead of us was flat and calm, but there was an ominous feeling to the air. A heaviness that indicated there was a spell waiting for us.

  Magic sparked across my skin, sharp and fierce. The water in front of us began to move, small waves forming.

  “Here it comes.” Syra’s face set in serious lines as she leaned forward, her hands never leaving the wheel. “We need to see what direction it goes before we tie off the lines.”

  The water began to spin, moving in a counter-clockwise direction. Syra turned hard on the wheel, directing us toward the right, but the water pulled even harder.

  The front of the boat was dragged to the left, and the whirlpool caught our boat. Water splashed and wind roared as the whirlpool picked up speed, dragging us along.

  My heart thundered as the whirlpool deepened in the middle.

  It was just going to keep growing, becoming bigger and deeper, until we were sucked into the ocean depths.

  Syra pointed to the right side of the boat. “Tie your ropes to the cleats on that side. Then you need to fly them to the cliff on the right and tie them off.”

  “Then we drag ourselves out,” I guessed.

  “I hope you’re strong.”

  Thankfully I was, but we were moving fast. Round and round, the whirlpool pulled harder and deeper.

  Declan and I hurried to the cleats, keeping our center of balance low. If I fell off now…

  As much as I loved swimming, I wasn’t super into dying while swimming.

  Declan and I struggled to tie our ropes off to the cleats at the edge of the boat, which were about ten feet apart. Once my rope was secure, I handed the loose end to him.

  “Hold on tight.” His wings flared wide behind his back, black and bright.