by Aaron Crash
“Circles for all four?” BB asked.
“Yes. Like so.” Liam unsnapped his shirt to reveal an ornate circle on his chest. The center of the circle was empty, but the lines had loops and swoops, like ocean waves or the inky winds of a hurricane where his skin was the eye in the storm.
“That’s amazing,” Tessa said. “Just do that to me.”
“Oh, darling,” BB said, “if you say something like that to me again, I just might have to excuse myself.”
Jealousy zapped Steven, but he knew it was all just banter. He wasn’t about to lose it, not when he was still getting to know Liam.
Tessa pulled off her shirt to stand there in her bra. The girls looked delicious, cupped in silk, and Steven felt a tingle in his nether regions. Tessa’s arms and legs were already covered in ink, but her chest and back were bare. She motioned to her back. “How about we put it on my shoulder blade.”
Liam frowned. “You’ll want to put it somewhere you can reach. If we need to find you, you’ll need to cut the circle.”
“Love that magic shit,” BB said, getting his needles ready with Liam Strider’s special ink. “I do the demon protection tattoo from that show Supernatural all the time.”
“Yeah, I like magic too,” Tessa said. “If only I’d gone to Hogwarts, I might’ve done better in school.”
“Fuckin’ Hogwarts would’ve been awesome,” BB said.
“Would you like to learn magic?” Tessa asked.
Steven didn’t like where this was headed.
BB snapped on blue latex gloves and then grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “Like real magic? You’re damn straight I would. I’m a total Hufflepuff.”
That made Tessa laugh.
BB studied Tessa’s body, looking for a good spot, or checking her out her chest. “Hey, I think I know a cool place for the circle.” He went to touch Tessa’s arm, where the talons of a red-tailed hawk stretched toward her collarbone.
Like a cobra striking, Steven caught BB’s hand out of instinct. It all happened so suddenly that Steven felt ridiculous.
BB guffawed. “Damn, man, I get you love her. No need to grab me. And talk about fast. You’d be a killer third baseman with reflexes like that.”
Steven let go of the man. “Sorry. I’m a little on edge.”
“Might wanna switch to decaf,” BB said. “Or get off the meth.”
Mouse let out a strangled cry. “Ha, ha, ha, this is all just so much fun! We’re all just so fucking cute! And isn’t BB so nice and funny? Aren’t we all just so nice and funny?!”
She stormed out of the tattoo parlor.
Liam glanced at Steven. Who sighed.
“Yeah, I’ll go talk to her. Just get started on the tattoos. We need to stay hidden.” Steven went after Mouse, but he had no idea what he was going to say to her.
Chapter Sixteen
STEVEN FOUND MOUSE around the back of the combination liquor store/tattoo parlor, sitting at a picnic table surrounded yellow grasses wet from the day’s storms. Spring on the Great Plains was completely schizophrenic. It was actually hot and humid, though the morning had been so chilly. The sun burned bright in the western sky while the colors around them had softened in the fading light. It was gorgeous outside—vast fields, a few trees, and hills in the distance. You just couldn’t focus on the cigarette butts littering the ground despite the coffee cans placed strategically at the corners of the table. Smokers were rebellious. Full stop.
Mouse sat sweating in the big baggy dress, looking miserable.
Steven sat down across from her. “What was that all about?”
“Same old song from your Mouse,” the blonde said with a sad smile.
Steven’s heart leapt. Yes! His Mouse! He liked how that sounded. But he kept his face straight. “What’s the song?”
She sighed. “I’m afraid. So afraid. Here I am, terrified, and there you are, joking around. Tessa is so sweet, all smiley and happy, but at any minute Mulk could find us and kill us. Next time he comes after you, he’s coming full bore. He is going to descend upon you with his full army. We’re talking a dozen dragons, the Terror Trio, and mercenaries with automatic weapons loaded with dragon-slaying rounds. We took down Judith. That, more than anything, is going to stick in his craw.”
“I’m not scared,” Steven said. Then corrected himself. “Okay, I’m a tad nervous, but come on, Mouse, you saw us back there. We held our own and without very much official training. I’m hoping Liam can help us with that.”
Speaking of which, the yellow-shirted Dragonsoul pushed out of the back door of the tattoo parlor. He strode forward. “I think I heard you say my name. My new name at any rate. Liam Strider.”
“Lord of the Rings fan?” Steven asked.
“Something like that.” Liam sat down next to Mouse, facing Steven. “So, here you are, the new gun in town. Who are you, really?”
Steven glanced at Mouse. She rolled her eyes. “For the love of biscuits, Steven, we can’t NOT trust him at this point. Tell him the whole story. Don’t leave out a single detail.”
“But he tried to kill us,” Steven protested.
“For the love of biscuits?” Liam laughed lightly. “Mouse, you said that whole sentence without a single curse word. Steven might be having a calming effect on you ... or at least on your vocabulary.”
“Fuck off, Ronin,” Mouse said sharply.
Liam sobered. “Yes, I was hired to kill you. I failed. I kidnapped Aria for some insurance and paid for it. I’m on the run as well. And I am a fucking Ronin, which is good for you, and bad. I won’t swear my allegiance to your cause, Steven, but I don’t serve any other masters. I need you as powerful as you can be so we can end Mulk’s reign. With him gone, I will be able to return to Denver and their vibrant art scene. We are partners in this.”
“How can I trust you?” Steven asked.
Mouse answered. “Make him swear on the soul of his father. Dragonsouls take that shit really fucking seriously.”
“I swear on the soul of my very cruel father,” Liam said. “You see, he was a Prime, in Finland, three hundred years ago. He saw my power, and he would’ve killed me. I killed him first. Filicide, such an ugly word. But perhaps patricide is worse.”
“Three hundred years?” Steven felt a twinge of awe.
“Yes. I’ve aged very well. Because I don’t play the games of Dragonsouls. I learned early to gamble on myself and my abilities. They have served me well.”
“You used Magica Incanto to put protection magic in the ink, didn’t you?” Steven asked.
“Unlike more modern dragons, I am not afraid of magic. I’ve mastered all the spells on the skill tree, though I find myself less and less interested in the dark arts. Did anyone else think it was strange that BB considers himself a Hufflepuff?”
“If you talk Harry Potter shit, I’m leaving,” Mouse threatened, lips pulling into a scowl.
Steve, though, chuckled. “No, BB is a total Hufflepuff. I’m just wondering if Tessa thinks we should try and bring him in as a vassal.”
Liam shook his head. “Be careful, Steven, of who you tell our secrets to. We must remain hidden, from the humans and from the Zothoric.”
Steven paused to consider that. The grimoire had mentioned the Zothoric a handful of times—some sort of demonic creatures who hunted Dragonsouls—but it seemed they were more myth than reality. “Aren’t the Zothoric just boogeymen that Dragonsouls use to keep things static?”
“Tell me your story,” Liam said. “I don’t like talking about the Zothoric ... or even pondering them, for that matter.”
Steven took in a deep breath, hardened his heart, and told the Yellow Ronin everything.
At one point, Liam stood and walked out into the weeds, to touch the wet blades of grass. When Steven stopped, the Ronin encouraged him to keep talking. He mentioned the strange missing paragraph in the Drokharis Grimoire as well as the two missing volumes of his father’s spell book.
When he was finished, Liam turned. There
were tears on his cheeks. “So, you are the last of the Drokharis clan. Your father, Stefan ...” He faltered. “Well, he was my friend, and I don’t make friends easily. You see, both of us rejected the games of power that Dragonsouls play. We studied together. For twenty years, I have wondered what happened to him. I’ve cast divination spells, weekly, to find answers, but the magic protecting the truth of his death is powerful. Only a sorcerer-dragon, thousands of years old, could stop me from seeing.”
“Mulk isn’t that old, is he?” Steven asked.
“He’s only about a hundred years old,” Mouse said. “But he’s sick with power. No, he’s just sick. One sick fuck.”
“But he killed my father,” Steven said. “If there is another ancient dragon in the mix, why would he help Mulk?”
“That is just one of the mysteries we are facing.” Liam wiped his face and sat back down. “Steven Drokharis. To think, I went up against you. If I had slain you and then found out the truth, it would’ve shattered me. I am so very sorry I ever tried to hurt you.” He glanced away. “Can you forgive me?”
“Nothing to forgive,” Steven said. “You didn’t know.”
They sat in silence, the three of them, listening to the sounds of the small town. A car door slammed. A bird, restless for night, twittered. In the distance, a big rig gunned its engines while another engaged its hissing air brakes. Tessa laughed inside the tattoo parlor. Aria let out a cry. “Ouch. Needles. Ouch. And people pay for this torture?” BB said something in a low voice that made Tessa laugh more.
Liam lowered his head. Tears dropped to the table. Steven was a little uncomfortable at the show of emotion. Where he was from, men weren’t so open. The Yellow Ronin then said in a choked voice, “I heard you want me to train you. But can I? Am I worthy? You might not understand who your father truly was ... he was the best of us, and not just with his skill at sorcery. There was a goodness to him, a noble goodness, fearless. He, too, wasn’t frightened of the Zothoric. And his portal magic was unparalleled. Yet, I never understood why he would take such risks, opening the doors he did. He had a secret agenda that he kept from everyone. Even from me.”
Another long stretch of silence. Mouse couldn’t hack it. She got up. “Yeah, Tessa must be done. I’m after Aria. So, yeah, I’m gonna go and let y’all have your moment.” She walked slowly away from them.
Steven leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “I need you to train me, Liam. There’s so much I don’t know. Like the Exhalants. I can’t even breathe fire. And our shields failed against the Terror Trio, and we don’t know why. Tessa nearly died by skipping ahead of one of the skill tree abilities. We need a teacher.”
Liam sighed. “She skipped a spell class? Which spell class did she skip?”
“The Impetim magic.”
“There is a good chance she will never be able to cast those spells again. You do need a teacher.” He reached up and ran a hand through his blond locks.
Steven caught his dragon scent, lemons and leather. If Tessa missed out on any of the spells, that could only hurt them. Steven shook his head. Dammit.
“So,” Liam said, “if you kill Mulk, you’ll get a Primacy of your own. You are so young, so full of power. What then? How will you wield your power?”
Steven had to be honest. “I don’t know. I really don’t. But in my visions, my father talked about a revolution. I think he wanted things to be different for our kind, and I think he was killed for it. And if there is an ancient dragon involved, well, first I want to take out Mulk, and then I want to talk to whoever is protecting that murderous dick.”
Liam again wiped his face. He raised his head but couldn’t make eye contact with Steven. “I know of one ancient dragon, but he’s ... Well, he’s not right. Time is cruel. It devours all things. It grinds stones to meal. It brings mountains low. And it catches up with even the most powerful of Dragonsouls.” Another long beat. “I will help you, Steven Drokharis. I will do my best to be the teacher your father couldn’t be. But if you see him again in a vision, if you get another question to ask him, ask about the secrets he kept from me. I long to know.”
“I will,” Steven said.
“I said before that I would never join your cause, Steven.” Liam nodded. “But you’re the son of my friend, and I will do everything I can to help for as long as I can. Even if it means giving up my life.”
“Thank you.” Steven wanted to say more but the words didn’t come. This powerful Ronin, it seemed, had become a vassal, even if it wasn’t official.
There didn’t seem to be any more to talk about, so the pair went inside. Tessa had brewed up coffee for them all, and of course, it was delicious. She showed him the hurricane circle on the upper left portion of her chest. It was as if the red-tailed hawk was trying to gasp the circle. BB was a true artist. Aria got her tattoo on her left forearm.
“Why there?” Steven asked.
“This is truly a tactical decision,” Aria explained. “If I need to break the magic, I can easily scratch it.”
Aria was a total warrior, and Steven could appreciate that.
Mouse sat naked in the chair and BB didn’t seem to care. Steven couldn’t help looking her up and down, from her cute feet, up her shapely legs, to the blonde patch of hair between her legs and just below her taut belly. And her breasts were so cute! Was he really going to sleep with her at some point? It seemed so.
BB was just finishing up inking the circle above her left breast. The ink contrasted beautifully with her pale skin. The result was striking.
“You’re up next, brother,” BB said. “We’ve been talking Harry Potter again. What house would you be sorted in?”
“I’m Ravenclaw, interestingly enough,” Tessa said. “I’m a schoolgirl now, and I thought I was destined for Slytherin.”
“That would be the house I would choose,” Liam said.
Mouse sighed heavily. “Fucking Harry Potter.”
Aria flexed her arm. “I’ve not read the books, but they say I’m Gryffindor. And I think you are too, Steven.”
“I’d like to think so.” When it was his turn, he sat in the chair. Like Aria, he chose to get the circle on his left forearm.
Once it was finished, Liam whispered, “Magica Divinatio.” He then nodded. “Yes, it worked. I can’t see you four. We have our protection.”
BB grinned. “Glad I could do my part. I’ll be talking about this day for a long time. Y’all are an interesting bunch.”
“Please don’t,” Liam said. “People are looking for us. It’s best if you don’t remember us.”
Steven thought about casting a Mind Wipe spell, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to remove the memory from BB. It seemed unfair. No one else had cast a spell, so he kept his mouth shut.
Then he wondered ... if Liam didn’t have an Escort, and if he didn’t seek out battle, how did the Ronin get his Animus? The question seemed important until Liam took out a wad of cash.
“No, we’ll pay,” Steven said.
“No, I’ll pay,” Liam answered. “And I insist. I still have a Hoard, despite all that has happened.”
Steven didn’t like accepting charity, but this seemed really important to the Ronin. Liam paid, and they headed out of the shop after a round of cheerful goodbyes with BB.
“Do we need to get groceries?” Tessa asked.
“No,” Liam said. “My Aerie is fully stocked.”
“Where is your Aerie?” Steven couldn’t imagine a grand palace being anywhere in this sleepy section of Nebraska.
“You’ll see,” Liam said mysteriously with a sly smirk. “You’ll see.”
At first, Steven’s old doubts about the Ronin resurfaced, but then he remembered Liam’s tears and his friendship with his father.
No, they had to trust Liam. They had no choice.
“I hope you have cigarettes,” Tessa said, “because after all the shit that’s happened today, I need a little treat.”
“Amen to that, sister,” Mouse agreed.
/> Chapter Seventeen
STEVEN FOLLOWED LIAM Strider’s big truck in the Orange Crush. The three women with him were quiet. The events of the day were catching up to them, and they were all beyond tired.
Steven was just glad that the tattoos would hide them from Mulk’s prying eyes. Hopefully. Finding Liam seemed to be a blessing, and all thanks to Mouse, who had used her contacts in Denver’s Dragonsoul underground to win the Ronin’s trust.
Liam turned off the highway and onto a dirt track only a little better than the four-wheel path they’d taken to the edge of the lake. His headlights mirrored Steven’s as they tore through the weeds and flung mud out from behind their churning tires.
They bounced over a rock. Mouse hissed. “For the love of biscuits, I didn’t sign up for this. I’m two seconds away from getting out and flying.”
“Feel free,” Steven said.
“Low on Animus.” Mouse glowered at him. Which meant no casting a hide spell. She crossed her arms, still draped in the huge dress.
Steven thought about offering to help her with her situation once they got to Liam’s Aerie, but he didn’t want to pressure her into sex. Not even as a joke. Yes, she had a rough exterior. Inside? That seemed to be a different story.
Liam finally pulled up to a big three-story house surrounded by miles of meadows. The moon broke from the eastern horizon to cast a silver light on Lake McConaughy in the distance. The road circled the structure and kept going.
The house was huge, with broad eaves, shuttered windows, and a covered wraparound porch. It looked old and new, all at the same time. Steven grabbed his duffle bag from the Orange Bronco and then walked inside with his Escort behind him.
The light was soft and welcoming. Turkish rugs, ancient and intricate, covered polished hardwood floors. Velvet settees, gold-embroidered divans, long couches, and big brass lamps gave the place an art deco feel. Artwork hung on the walls—all masterpieces of the 1920s and ’30s. Steven knew this because of his Intro to Art History class over at Metro. Most were of New York, from the artist Thomas Hart Benton. But there were a couple of Picassos.