Nice Dragons Finish Last

Chapter 6

Meanwhile, high atop a superscraper in the Upper City, far from the dirt and tawdry worries of the world below, Svena, White Witch of the Three Sisters, Terrible Serpent of the Sibirskoe and, once, in a moment of youthful indiscretion, the Savage Protector of Ljubljana, lay reclined in Ian’s enormous bed, regarding her newest lover through slitted eyes.

Said lover, however, was not looking at her. Ian was typing messages into the AR keyboard of his phone, an activity that had occupied his attention ever since he’d hung up on his whining puppy of a baby brother. But where a younger, less secure dragoness would have been deathly insulted by such divided attention, Svena did not mind. As the second daughter of her own clan, she understood the demands of having to report on the doings of absurd younger siblings, and anyway, the lull in their activities gave her a chance to enjoy the view.

And what a view it was. All dragons were pleasing to look on in their human forms, but Svena had always secretly considered the Heartstrikers a breed unto themselves. There was just something intoxicatingly exotic about their warm tanned skin, sharp, haughty features, and straight, ink-black hair that brought to mind equatorial climates and golden cities full of cowering humans who still remembered their rightful place. Even Ian’s eyes reminded her of bright green jungles, and this was just his mortal disguise. After hearing tales of Bethesda’s beauty for the last thousand years, Svena was perishing of curiosity to see if the Feathered Serpent’s glory had bred true in her son, enough that she’d actually asked him to change for her as they’d lain together in the aftermath. A request that Ian had refused, the clever little snake.

“I see what you are doing,” she said when he finally put down his phone. “You are teasing me. You think if you do not show me your feathers, curiosity will drive me back to your clutches.”

Ian leaned across the silk sheets to kiss her bare shoulder. “Naturally.”

She arched an eyebrow, and Ian gave her a serpentine smile. “If I wasn’t sure you could see through such a shallow ruse, I would not have pursued you in the first place. Fortunately for me, knowledge of the bait’s true nature does not lessen its temptation.” His smile widened. “Of course, considering how much you enjoyed being in my clutches, perhaps I didn’t need to bother with bait at all.”

He reached for her as he spoke, but Svena slid away at the last moment, rising from the bed with a languid stretch. “Arrogant creature. You talk very big for a hatchling not yet out of his second century.”

“You deserve no less,” Ian said, lying back on the bed to watch her. “A little youthful arrogance would serve you well, Svena, and you know it. That’s why you agreed to come home with me in the first place.”

She picked up her discarded dress off the floor and pulled it over her head. “Are you a seer, then, to predict what I do?” When he didn’t reply, she turned to face him and let her human form recede. Not fully, not even enough to change size. Just a hint, an icy whisper to remind him of the force he was daring to taunt. “Do not presume to know my mind, little dragon. Perhaps I only wished to see for myself if you were as wanton as your mother.”

For a moment, Ian’s green eyes flickered. That surprised her, but then, she’d never met a Heartstriker who could stand to hear his mother’s name impinged. A prideful idiocy, Svena had always though, and a pointless one. With ten clutches from ten different fathers in barely a thousand years, Bethesda the Heartstriker’s honor was an impossible thing to defend.

“My mother is my mother,” Ian said, lifting his chin with a look of such arrogance, Svena’s breath caught in delight. “A great and powerful dragoness who commands the largest dragon clan in the world. When the magic faded centuries ago, your mothers fled beneath the Siberian ice, sleeping and hoarding their power out of fear. My mother adapted, and now that magic has returned, she is already moving to make this world her own. It’s true she isn’t an ancient power, but no power lasts forever, Svena. By the time your mothers wake, they will find themselves forgotten, and Heartstriker will be the name all the world fears.”

Svena regarded the young dragon in the bed with a new eye. “I was wondering when your true colors would show,” she said softly. “Is this why you invited me here? To spew Heartstriker propaganda? Or are you Bethesda’s lure? A tasty morsel to tempt me into a mating flight so she can add another clutch to her army?”

Ian rose from the bed in one swift motion and stalked forward to stand right in front of her. Given the age difference between them, Svena was certain she was the larger dragon, but in their human forms, she and Ian were the same height. Yet another reason she’d accepted his suit. Svena despised being looked down upon.

“Just because I respect what my mother has built does not mean I’m bound by her plans,” he said quietly. “Not when there are so many other, more tempting options available.”

Svena flashed him a predatory smile. “Does that mean you wish to turn traitor?” she whispered, reaching up to run her nails over the smooth shaved line of his jaw. “Poor Ian, we’re not interested. Our clan is full up. And in any case, you’d make me a very bad sister.”

“The last thing I wish to be is your sister,” Ian replied, fearlessly leaning into the knife-sharp tips she’d pressed against his skin. “But there are more things in this world than siblings and parents, Svena.”

She removed her claws from his face, waiting for him to finish, but all Ian gave her was a long smile before turning away.

“For an ancient and wise dragoness, you think very small,” he said, walking over to retrieve his robe from its hook inside his expansive closet. “I may not be the oldest or the strongest of my clan, but I am, without question, the most ambitious of all Heartstrikers, and my plans for you go far beyond anything our mothers could dream.”

It had been so long since anyone had dared to play a game like this with her, Svena was forced to take a moment to make sure her voice didn’t betray her excitement. “And what would these fantastical, undreamable plans entail?”

Ian chuckled, a low, delightful sound. “For that, you’ll have to come to me again. Tomorrow night. I’ll send a car.”

“Clever snake,” Svena whispered, wagging her finger at him.

She was enjoying this game far more than she’d expected to when she’d accepted his bold offer at the restaurant. Being around so much raw ambition brought back old dreams she hadn’t considered in many, many years, and Svena couldn’t help thinking that perhaps Ian was right. Perhaps the centuries had made her complacent. Her eyes lingered on Ian’s silk-clad back as he walked to the sidebar to pour himself a drink. Maybe she did need someone young and hungry to remind her what it meant to be a dragon.

But while she was now certain she’d take the lure he offered and come again tomorrow, Svena saw no reason to tell him that. Ian wasn’t the only one who could play this game.

With a coy smile, she walked over and turned around, motioning for him to zip up the back of her dress. Ian obliged, his fingers skimming over her skin so lightly she knew he was doing it on purpose, and she liked that knowledge even more than his touch. Oh yes, this would be a fun game indeed.

When she was presentable, Svena gathered her purse and coat from the couch where she’d flung them and walked out without a word, leaving Ian to stare after her and wonder. Only when she was safely ensconced in the private elevator coming down from his penthouse at the top of one of the DFZ’s most prestigious superscrapers did she allow her coy smile to broaden into a real one.

As ordered, her limo pulled up the moment she stepped into the lobby. She swept past the bowing human doorman and into her softly lit vehicle without pausing, but it wasn’t until she’d settled into the dove-gray seat and the car began to pull away that she realized she wasn’t alone.

“Enjoy your evening?”

Svena’s body went still as a cobra’s before the strike. Only her eyes moved, flicking to the front of the limo, where an amazingly beautiful woman lay sprawled like an ancient queen across the car’s rear-facing seat. She was as tall as Svena, her skin just as pale, but unlike Svena’s icy blond, this woman’s hair was true white, framing her face like a river of snow. But then, Estella was the oldest of them all. It only made sense that she’d go white first.

Despite her dramatic appearance, however, her older sister had yet to actually look up from the crumbling paperback in her lap. That was not unusual. Estella had read a book a day since the invention of the printing press. Centuries ago, when she and Svena had still been close, Estella had confessed that she didn’t even like most human writing. She did, however, like surprises, and novels were the only stories where a seer didn’t know the ending before it began.

“Svena,” Estella said again, her voice sharpening as she turned a page. “I asked you a question.”

“And I am deciding whether or not it deserves an answer,” Svena replied, hiding her nervousness behind cold indifference. “If you are merely prying into my affairs, then we have nothing to discuss. But then, perhaps you are here because you wish to compare notes? Did you not enjoy a Heartstriker once?”

That was a very sore subject, and Estella closed her book with a snap. “I think there has been a misunderstanding. I instructed you to enchant that chain and give it to the Heartstrikers because I foresaw it would lead to the return of our darling baby sister. I do not recall suggesting that you continue the acquaintance to the point of absurdity by consorting with the spawn of Bethesda the Broodmare. And not even one of the famous ones. Honestly, Svena, couldn’t you have done better than an I? Isn’t she only on J?”

“I do not recall requesting your opinion on my private dalliances,” Svena replied icily, folding her arms over her chest. “Why are you in my car, Estella? I thought the entire reason behind sending me to the DFZ after Katya was so that you wouldn’t have to lower yourself by entering Algonquin’s little experiment personally. What changed your mind?”

Svena posed the question more out of habit than any real expectation of receiving an answer. Even if Estella did deign to explain herself, her reasons wouldn’t make any sense. Seer logic was only decipherable by other seers. Therefore, Svena wasn’t surprised at all when her sister dropped her paperback into her purse and placed her hands on her knees, announcing in her usual cryptic voice, “You begin to fade.”

“Sounds lovely,” Svena said, leaning over to check the limo’s automated control panel. “Do I get to enjoy this fading now, or is this my ten-year warning?”

Her only answer was silence, and she looked up again to find her sister staring at her with an intensity that suddenly made this conversation very, very serious. “Now is not the time for games,” Estella said. “I came here because your future is vanishing from my sight.”

Svena pressed her hands into the seat to hide her growing nervousness. “Vanishing how?”

“It started as soon as you left,” the seer said, touching her slender fingers to her forehead. “Bits and pieces at first, but now whole decision trees have passed beyond my reach. I didn’t even see Bethesda’s brat sneaking up on you until it was too late.”

Svena fought the urge to sigh in frustration. “So what does that mean? Am I dying?”

“Death would be better,” Estella said bitterly. “I would much rather you be dead than let him take you from me.”

Svena didn’t bother to hide her scorn at such a notion, or her bared teeth. “No one takes me. I am the White Witch of the Three Sisters, feared on seven continents. I am no one’s prey!”

She finished with a roar, but Estella was already shaking her head. “This is not a battle you can fight. Not when you debase yourself so willingly before that pretty whelp of a dragon, listening gladly while he pours poison in your ear against our mothers, against me.”

Svena narrowed her eyes. “I hope you are not questioning my loyalty to our clan.”

“I don’t need to,” Estella said. “You already have.”

Centuries of experience kept all signs of shock from Svena’s face, but nothing could silence the sudden pounding of her heart. Seer or no, there was no way her sister could know thoughts Svena had barely considered herself, and yet Estella was glaring at her as though she’d already turned traitor.

“You are approaching a crossroads, little sister,” Estella said, leaning forward. “I saw it coming many years ago, but I could never foresee see its outcome. Now, at last, I know why. I am being blocked. Another seer has entered the game, and you let him in. You took the Heartstriker’s bait. You let yourself be played!”

“That’s absurd,” Svena scoffed. “I would never—”

“You will!” Estella snarled, her ice blue eyes flashing in the dark car. “I know you, Svena. I’ve known you all your life, that which you’ve lived already and that which is yet to come. Of all our mothers’ daughters, you were always the most ambitious. You fought tooth and claw until you stood at the head of the world’s most-feared clan, second only to myself and our mothers. I always admired you for that, but even a dragon can reach too high.” She flashed her sister a deadly smile. “It would be a great shame if you were to lose all you’ve fought for because you believed the empty promises of a handsome young dragon and his grasping clan.”

Svena’s nails bit into the seat beside her, puncturing the soft leather. “I do not appreciate threats.”

“Oh, but it’s not a threat,” her sister said innocently. “It’s a warning, and a courtesy. I can no longer foresee if you will be clever or foolish, so I am forced to tell you what you should already know.”

“Because you think I will be foolish?” Svena growled.

“Because I think you will be fooled,” Estella growled back. “There is no path worthy of the daughters of the Three Sisters save the one I lay out. I am both the eldest and the seer. I always know best. You would do well to keep that in mind.”

Svena met her sister’s icy glare cold for cold as she reached over and stabbed her finger against the limo’s command console. The car pulled over at once, sliding through the skyway’s night traffic into a quiet corporate park. The second they stopped moving, Svena threw open the door. “Get out.”

Her older sister exited the car without another word, the sharp heels of her delicate white stilettos clicking against the pristine sidewalk. It wasn’t until her sister was completely outside that Svena realized she didn’t actually know where they were, but any regrets she might have had about kicking her sister to the curb in a strange city vanished when she spotted a second limo waiting just around the corner, its door already open.

Svena fought the urge to sigh. Of course. Estella was a seer—of course she would know exactly when and where she was going to be tossed out and make preparations accordingly. The only real surprise was that Svena hadn’t seen it coming. Nothing in this world ever turned out anyway except exactly as a seer wanted.

Like she could read her mind, Estella chose that moment to turn, her lips curling into a cold smile as she slipped her purse over her shoulder. “Remember that, Svena,” she said, her voice haughty. “No matter how it may seem, no matter what you do, I always come out on top in the end. But while your arrogance suggests otherwise, hope is not yet lost. You have not vanished completely from my sight, which means the future can still be changed. All you have to do is be sure that, when the time comes, you make the right choice. Will you promise me that, little sister?”

Svena’s answer was to slam the door. Her limo pulled out a second later, peeling away from the little park so fast, Svena never had a chance to see the beautiful man with the absurdly long jet black hair and bright green eyes watching the drama play out from a park bench just a few feet away.

Estella was not so unobservant. Long after her sister’s car had vanished, she stood on the curb, watching the man with the sort of intense, focused hatred mortals simply did not live long enough to achieve. The man, in turn, smiled wide and patted the empty spot on the bench beside him.

With a glare that could have frozen the whole of Lake St. Clare, Estella turned on her heel and marched to her limo, slamming the door behind her. A second later, her car shot down the street after her sister’s, passing the man on the bench so fast, the rush of wind sent his long hair whipping into his face. He brushed it back again with a grin and put out his hand to provide a landing spot for the pigeon who’d just flown up through the tiny gap in the skyway below.

“Well,” he said as the bird settled on his fingers. “Isn’t that interesting?”

The pigeon tilted its head inquisitively, but the green eyed man simply kissed its soft feathers and set the bird down on the bench beside him, freeing his hand to pull a phone out of his pocket. It was an old keyboard model from before the return of magic, a veritable antique without even the most basic AR, but the lack of modern accouterments didn’t seem to bother him. He simply scrolled through the enormous contact list until he reached the Js, selected a name near the bottom, and began to type, humming the bridge of a song that wouldn’t be composed for another ten years as his fingers moved unerringly over keys that had long since been worn blank.

“Come on,” Julius muttered, tapping his foot as Lark’s phone rang and rang and rang. When the shaman’s voicemail kicked in, he hung up and started the cycle over. Again.

After ten calls failed to garner even one answer, he was forced to admit defeat. He didn’t know if Lark was deliberately ignoring him or if the shaman was simply too drunk and/or stoned to answer his phone. Both were possible. Honestly, though, he wasn’t even sure why he was bothering. It wasn’t like Lark had given him a bad address on purpose. The shaman had probably just passed on the information Katya had given him, and no dragoness on the run would be stupid enough to give a human her actual location. The real question was, how stupid was Julius for thinking she had?

Pretty stupid, he decided, pacing back and forth on the cracked sidewalk. And dead. Very, very dead. It was almost midnight already. Even if he pushed Ian’s deadline to the absolute limit, he had less than twenty-four hours to find a dragon who didn’t want to be found in the DFZ. He wasn’t sure he could pull that off even with unlimited money. On his current budget, it was downright impossible, but if he didn’t get something, he was done for. So what was he going to—

“Julius?”

He stopped pacing with a jerk and looked up to see Marci standing tentatively on the curb a few feet away, her hands clasped in front of her. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You’ve been over here for a while.”

Julius rubbed the back of his neck. He supposed she did deserve an explanation, especially since he wasn’t going to be able to pay her the way things were headed, what with him being dead and all. Then again, who knew? Marci was clever and resourceful. Maybe she could help?

The idea of pulling a human he liked as much as Marci into his problems made Julius feel a little ill, but he didn’t know what else to do. So, with a deep breath, he told her the truth. “I’m in trouble.”

“I figured,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “That parking deck was supposed to be your missing girl, wasn’t it?”

Julius nodded. “If I don’t find her by tomorrow, I…” will be declared a failure and eaten. “I won’t get paid.”

“Which means I won’t get paid either,” Marci finished, putting two and two together. “Okay, what are our options?”

He stared at her, astonished. “You’re not mad?”

Marci shrugged. “Hazard of contract work. Sometimes things fall through, and getting mad about it doesn’t do anyone any good. Besides, it’s not like you’re trying to screw me over, right?”

“Of course not,” he said, horrified, which made her grin.

“See? Nothing to be mad about. I’d much rather spend my energy trying to save the job in any case. So, ideas?”

Julius didn’t answer. He was too busy savoring the wonderful astonishment at being treated like a partner instead of an idiot and a failure. “I have several ideas,” he said at last. “But they all require money.”

“Most things do,” she said with a sympathetic sigh. “What’s our operating budget?”

“About two dollars.”

Marci giggled. “Funny. Really, though, what is it?”

Julius shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I wasn’t making a joke.”

She froze, the grin vanishing from her face. “You weren’t?”

He shook his head.

“You don’t have any money?”

He shook his head again.

For several moments, Marci just stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “But,” she got out at last, “you were in Arbor Square. Everyone in Arbor Square has money!”

“I was just there to meet my brother to get this job,” Julius said. “Come on, you didn’t really think I belonged in a place like that, did you? I mean, look at me.”

He waved his hand at his ratty T-shirt and jeans, and Marci began to sputter. “I thought you were wearing that ironically!” she cried. “You know, one of those ‘I’m wearing comfortable clothes because I’m too cool to care how rich I am’ guys.” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe this. How were you planning to pay me?”

“After my brother paid me,” he said. “I never meant for things to get this bad. This job was supposed to be over at the party!”

Marci flopped against the lamppost with a hopeless sound, and Julius felt all the warmth she’d just given him drain away.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I never intended to mislead you.”

“I know, I know,” she muttered, staring up at the dark. “It’s just…this is always my luck, you know? Only I could bluff my way into one of the most exclusive restaurants in the DFZ and come out with the only client in the whole place who wasn’t loaded.” She shook her head with a bitter sigh before pushing off the streetlight. “Par for the course, I guess. Okay, sorry, pity party over. So how much money do think we’re going to need?”

Julius stared at her. “You’re not leaving?”

She snorted. “Come on. Just because you aren’t actually a secret millionaire doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon you. First, we still have a contract, and second, you kind of saved my life. If I left you now, how would I live with myself? That said, of course, I don’t actually have any idea what we’re going to do. As you might have noticed, I haven’t exactly had a lot of luck making quick cash in the DFZ.”

Julius didn’t have any immediate ideas either, but knowing that Marci wasn’t going to throw him over made him more hopeful than he’d felt in years. He was trying to figure out a way to tell her as much that wouldn’t make him sound like a desperate loser when his phone buzzed.

He’d actually forgotten he was holding the thing until it began to vibrate in his hand. For a soaring moment, he thought it was Lark calling him back, but when he glanced down at the AR, it wasn’t a call at all. It was a message from the Unknown Caller.

J,

A little bird told me you could use some help, and since I am of an extremely Helpful Nature, I have sent some your way. No need to thank me, A Good Deed Is Its Own Reward. Also, I already cleaned out your room back home and sold everything to cover the costs. Family first!

Yours etc., B

His face must have looked awful by the end, because Marci’s hands came up in her battle stance. “What?! What’s wrong?”

“My brother is sending me some help,” he said, reading the message again.

“Oh.” Her arms fell back to their natural positions. “That’s nice of him.”

“Nice isn’t the word I’d use,” Julius grumbled. “My brother’s a bit…eccentric. His idea of what’s appropriate can be a little off.” And dangerous, or obnoxious, or both. That said, Bob had given him a phone pre-loaded with money and IDs yesterday, which definitely counted as useful. Maybe lightning would strike twice?

He checked his balance, just in case, but it still read two dollars. Not money, then, but what else could Bob have meant by costs? And surely his brother hadn’t been able to sell off everything in his room already. Julius had only been gone a day. He glanced back down at the call button. Maybe he should phone his mother’s housekeeper and check?

Before he could do anything, though, an enormous crash echoed through through the dark, making them both jump. It sounded like someone had dropped a dumpster from five stories up. For several seconds, all Julius could hear was the ringing in his ears, but then he caught the unmistakable scrape of claws on asphalt, followed by a loud and horribly familiar shout.

“Julius?”

Oh no, he thought, cringing. No, no, no. He was going to kill Bob.

“What is that?” Marci said, looking all around.

“The opposite of help,” he growled, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“But—”

“Stay here,” he said again. “Please.”

Marci did not look happy, but she did as he asked, standing right on the edge of the curb as Julius jogged across the street and around the the edge of the parking deck into the alley where he’d heard the crash.

Sure enough, when he rounded the corner, a man was standing under the alley’s lone working orange street light. He was exceptionally tall, almost six and a half feet, with a classically handsome face and military short black hair. He was pulling on a shirt when Julius spotted him, his bulging muscles flexing like he was a model in a protein shake commercial as he tugged the thin, tight cotton over his head. Thankfully, the bottom half of him was already clothed in dark jeans, though he’d probably only put those on first so he’d have somewhere to hang the enormous sword currently sheathed on his belt.

He must have heard Julius coming, because his bright green eyes locked on him as soon as his head was free of his shirt, and he lifted his sculpted chin in greeting. “’Sup?”

Julius covered his face with his hand. “Please,” he groaned. “Please tell me you didn’t just fly here.”

“Only from the airport,” the dragon said, leaning down to pull on his socks. “Cab fares in this place are murder.”

He started shoving his feet into a pair of black motorcycle boots next, and Julius dropped his hands with a sigh, wondering why he’d expected anything different.

With shoulders like an orc linebacker and an air of absolute confidence that Julius would never in a million years be able to match, his brother Justin came from opposite end of the Heartstriker gene pool. They shared the family basics—black hair, high cheekbones and, of course, the green eyes—but otherwise they could have been strangers. This was especially odd because Justin and Julius were full brothers, hatched from the same clutch only minutes apart. But where Julius had come out as the runt, Justin had shot straight to top, as evidenced by the sword at his hip.

The black-sheathed blade was a larger version of Chelsie’s, one of five Fangs of the Heartstriker given only to Bethesda’s deadliest weapons. But while Justin’s battle prowess was unquestioned, Julius couldn’t help wondering sometimes if the rest of his brain hadn’t quite caught up yet.

“Justin,” Julius said, as calmly as he could manage. “You can’t just fly around in the DFZ. Do you want Chelsie to gut you?”

“She’d have to catch me first,” his brother replied with a smug smile. “You look terrible, by the way.”

Julius decided to ignore that comment. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in China.”

“I was, but then I heard Mother kicked you out, so when Bob sent me a ticket to the DFZ, I thought I’d come lend you a hand.”

Julius’s stomach sank. “You heard about that in China?”

“Everyone’s heard about it,” Justin said. “There’s actually a betting pool going for how long you’ll last.” He arched an dark eyebrow. “You know, a little gratitude wouldn’t be out of order. I did just fly halfway around the world to come help you.”

Julius sighed. “Thank you. But—”

“You’re welcome,” Justin said, slapping his hands together. “Now, who are we killing?”

Julius was opening his mouth to say they wouldn’t be killing anyone when he heard soft, quick footsteps in the street behind him, and his blood went cold. Oh no, he thought as Justin’s eyes darted to the mouth of the alley. Not now.

But, of course, Marci chose that moment to walk around the corner. She stopped with a gasp, her hands flying to her mouth just as Justin’s fell to the hilt of his sword. For a second, Julius thought his brother was going to attack first and ask questions later, but Justin did nothing of the sort. He did something much worse.

“Well, well, well,” he said an innuendo-laden voice loud enough to be heard for blocks. “Is that your human?”

And that was when Julius began praying that Chelsie was watching, because a quick death from behind was starting to sound very nice indeed.