by Dima Zales
Could that be the real reason he doesn’t want to take our intimacy further?
I recall a session with Lucretia the other day. She’d hinted that Nero fears feelings—more specifically, that he’s afraid that another person he cares about might die.
Nero’s face hardens, and he turns me around, arranging me back into the spooning position. Despite the tension I sense from him, his hand strokes my hip soothingly, and as far as distractions go, it’s a good one.
I’m starting to yawn again.
To my shock, he says softly, “I was part of the royal family.”
He falls silent, and I stop breathing, not daring to make a sound lest I interrupt him.
“A friend of my father’s was an ambitious dragon who used a treacherous attack to usurp the throne,” he continues after a moment. His voice is low and dark, as dangerous as I’ve ever heard it. “Afterward, he killed everyone I cared about. Or, as it turns out, almost everyone.”
I suppress a shudder as his hand on my hip turns claw-like before returning to its human guise.
“I’ve been postponing my revenge, growing stronger, but if Claudia survived, it changes everything…”
He pauses again, and I wait for him to continue with bated breath. But he doesn’t say anything else, and after what feels like hours of waiting, I hear his breathing even out, his tense body relaxing against my back.
He’s asleep, the blood loss having taken its toll.
My heart clenching, I reach over, covering us both with a blanket, and then I join him in sleep.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
The rays of the morning sun welcome my corneas to wakefulness with smiling photons.
To my disappointment, Nero isn’t in bed anymore.
Stretching like a cat, I sit up and look around.
Still no Nero.
Oh well.
The interesting thing is that I feel great. I guess doctors who deal with patients who almost get killed by gods and dragons should order said patients to sleep. Bonus points if that sleep can be done in the arms of a dragon.
I get up and look for the dragon in question—without any success.
Nero’s not in the room, nor in the bathroom.
Maybe he woke up early and left quietly to let me have my beauty sleep? How nice of him to indulge me in this post-apocalyptic world.
I step out into the hallway to the sight of Ariel doing some kind of calisthenics.
When she spots me, her eyes widen and she stops mid-stretch.
“Isn’t that Nero’s room?” She stares at the door behind me.
“No, it’s not,” I lie.
“Dude. That is Nero’s room. And you’re glowing.”
“It’s not,” I say but even less believably this time. “And I’m not.”
“You’re totally glowing,” she says and jumps up and down in excitement. “What happened?”
“Where’s everyone?” I furtively look around.
“Itzel is probably still sleeping, and Felix, Rasputin, and Nero left to get some food.” She grins and adds, “I didn’t get it at the time, but it seems like Nero wanted to bring you some breakfast in bed.” She wiggles her perfect eyebrows lasciviously.
I bite my lip. I guess it’s time to fess up. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this. It’s just that you’ve had a lot going on, and this thing is pretty complicated.”
“Is it though?” She winks. “Boy prances around naked all day, girl is flesh and blood—who could possibly blame you?”
“Right, but it’s Nero we’re talking about.”
“Right. A friggin’ dragon,” she says. “Do you realize what that means?”
I shake my head, and she pitches her voice deeper. “You could literally become ‘The Mother of Dragons.’”
I roll my eyes. “You know what? Forget it.” I turn to head to my room.
“I’m sorry,” she says like a not-sorry five-year-old. “Please, tell me all the details. I’ll act like an adult from now on, I pinky swear.”
“Fine.” I wave for her to follow me as I enter my room.
As I put on my spacesuit, I tell her all about my recent encounters with Nero. When I get to certain parts, I fluctuate between blushing and grinning like an idiot. Mid-story, we exit out into the hallway, and I look around carefully before I continue.
“So, I still have no idea what would happen if he ‘lost control,’” I say in conclusion. “Or if that is an insurmountable problem. Or who—”
“I doubt the insurmountable part,” she cuts in, mirth playing in the corners of her eyes. “I’m confident that you, of all people, will find a way to mount—”
Male voices ring out down the hall, and Ariel theatrically covers her mouth with her hand.
Felix, Rasputin, and Nero walk toward us holding an assortment of canned food.
Is that heat in Nero’s eyes when he looks at me, or is it just wishful thinking on my part?
“We rummaged through a convenience store downstairs,” Felix says, looking from me to Ariel.
“Nero and Felix have told me about your various skills,” Rasputin says in Russian, and I’m glad Ariel doesn’t understand what he’s saying. The idea of Nero telling my father about “my skills” would no doubt make her giggle right now.
Putting down his cans, Rasputin hands me a sealed deck of cards that look just like the ones in our world. “Nero suggested I give you this and ask you to ‘show me something.’”
“Let’s eat first,” Felix says. “If Sasha gets going, this could take a few hours.”
As though in agreement with his words, Ariel’s tummy rumbles.
I grab the cards and help Rasputin with the rest of his cans.
“What about Itzel?” I ask.
“What about me?” a voice says behind me, and I turn to face the gnome dressed in full spacesuit regalia.
“Let’s have breakfast in my room,” Ariel suggests. “There’s a table.”
We camp out there and devour the food almost without chewing.
“The boats are in a marina there.” Rasputin points out the window, and I realize we’ll be passing right by this world’s equivalent of our apartment. How creepy is that?
When we get there, it turns out that it is very creepy because our—or strictly speaking, Nero’s—apartment building is there and looks identical to its Earth self.
As an icing on the creepy cake, some of the corpses around these parts look like our neighbors—though that could be my overstimulated imagination at work.
The Battery Park is also a dead ringer for “ours,” and the marina Rasputin leads us to is the one where I like to trespass sometimes—and where an orc tried to drown me in the harbor.
An orc Nero—the dragon whose arms I slept in last night—hired to jolt my powers and later brutally killed in front of me.
Once we steal a yacht and set sail for New Jersey, I put on a card magic show for my father doing my “best of” effects, from the ambitious card—which always jumps to the top—to gambling demonstrations.
Rasputin keeps asking for more, and I oblige him over and over, until he remains the only person watching, and I start to dip into effects I haven’t done in many years.
As I perform, I again let myself hope that one day I could have a show for the Cognizant. All I need is for everyone to stop trying to kill me so I can put together a good set, rehearse, and find the right venue.
“I have no idea how you did any of that,” Rasputin says proudly when I have him miraculously cut to all four aces in a shuffled deck.
“And you can’t use your seer powers to figure it out,” I say with mock sternness. “That would be cheating.”
“Cross my heart,” he says. “I don’t even want to know how it’s done. It would ruin the mystery and the specialness of this moment.” He puts his hand on mine and smiles so contentedly that something in my chest melts.
“Can you please tell me more about your life?” he asks when I put the cards away. “I saw some of
it in visions, but the time differential between our worlds made that difficult.”
I smile and start telling him all about my obsession with magic, then about school, college, and my adoptive parents.
He absorbs the information greedily and asks countless questions about the most mundane details.
Eventually, I get to the most recent past that deals with zombies, vampires, and—as it turns out—dragons.
Rasputin hangs on to my every word and looks to be on the edge of his seat when I tell him the part about Baba Yaga.
“I knew her,” he says when I finish. “You’re lucky to be alive. You all are.”
“Well, what about you?” I ask. “What happened to you in Russia all those years ago? Why did you have to leave? How did you meet my mother? Who is she? Where is she? Why—”
“I made powerful enemies in Russia at about the same time as I met your mother,” he says and looks into the horizon with a distant expression. “She left with me when I escaped Earth. Then you were born, and—”
The boat jerks in that very moment, and I nearly topple from my chair.
“I’m sorry,” Ariel yells from the port side. “It’s my first time docking one of these.”
I look back and realize I got so absorbed in our conversation that I missed our arrival in the glamorous state of New Jersey.
“We better go,” Rasputin says and heads for the dock.
“Wait, you were just getting to the interesting bits,” I say, but he doesn’t seem to hear.
Once we start the second leg of our airport journey, I hang back with Rasputin, and when it seems we’re out of earshot from normal people’s ears, I say, “You started to tell me about my mother.”
He walks in contemplative silence for a few beats, then says, “What’s going on between you and Nero?”
I nearly trip over a mailman corpse and fight the urge to blush. “Nothing.”
“You and I both know that’s not true,” he says sternly. “When did Nero—”
“This is none of your business,” I snap, my embarrassment morphing into anger. I’ve known the guy for all of five minutes, and he’s going to play overprotective parent all of a sudden? Where was he when my first boyfriend stole my underwear and passed it around to all his friends in high school?
If anything, it’s been Nero who’s been watching out for me all these years. And for my father to imply that Nero had been in any way inappropriate is—
“I’m just trying to look out for you,” Rasputin says, giving me a confused look.
That he’s surprised by my negative reaction pisses me off more.
“You know what he is,” Rasputin continues. “I just want what’s best for you.”
“What’s best for me?” I taste the words. “I’m not a child anymore. You can’t make life-defining decisions for me any longer.”
He looks like I slapped him, and I feel a pang of guilt—but not enough to prevent me from storming off to catch up with the rest of my friends.
“Tell Sasha what you just told me,” Ariel says when I reach them, and I can tell she’s fighting to keep in a laugh.
“All I said was that there was something different about you today,” Felix says to me. “That there’s a bounce in your step or something—but I don’t see why that’s funny.”
Ariel looks like she’s dying from laughter, and I slide my helmet’s visor over my face to hide my expression.
Nero—who clearly heard the exchange—smirks slightly, but it could be my imagination again.
In general, though, he doesn’t seem to be acting differently toward me today. Maybe what happened wasn’t as big of a deal for him as it was for me? I make a mental vow to rent How to Train Your Dragon as soon as I get home. Hopefully, it’s a documentary with some practical tips.
“I also feel better today,” Itzel chimes in. “A good night’s sleep and a meal can do wonders.”
“I bet Nero helped you sleep better,” Felix says to Itzel, and Ariel and I nearly choke on our tongues.
Felix looks at both of us like we’re crazy and says, “I meant Nero’s offer to add all those zeroes to Itzel’s payment. I don’t know what’s gotten into the two of you this morning. Did you smoke something when I wasn’t there?”
I’m about to reply when Nero tenses and suddenly stops.
I follow his gaze.
A ragtag group of men is walking toward us. Their faces are covered in burns and tattoos, and one dude is wearing a necklace that looks suspiciously like dried human ears.
Matching their background perfectly, they remind me of the people Hekima once showed us during Orientation.
They look ready to rape, kill, and eat us, and maybe not even in that order.
Spotting us, they yell out a war cry, raise their clubs, and charge.
Chapter Sixty
“Stay back.” With a stern glare at me, Nero begins to strip. “I’ll take care of this.”
Before I can say anything, he’s naked and leaping forward.
Ariel suggestively clears her throat.
I gape as Nero shimmers into a roaring dragon and tramples cars in our would-be attackers’ way.
Seeing him in this form in a modern environment feels pretty surreal—and the newcomers must agree, because they stop as if rooted to the ground.
Tossing a truck with his good claw into the far distance, Nero shoots fire in their direction—but clearly as an intimidation tactic. His fiery breath melts the cars on the road and the road itself, but doesn’t incinerate a single person.
The posse clearly haven’t gone so feral as to attack an angry dragon. They run away screaming as fast as anyone would in their shoes—except none of them seemed to be wearing shoes.
Nero shimmers again and turns into the mouthwatering human form I much prefer, then dresses as if nothing happened.
“You said this world was safe,” I say to Rasputin when he catches up with us, a huge look of surprise on his face.
“I’ve never had any trouble here before.” He shrugs. “Never even seen danger in a vision.”
“How are they even alive?” Felix asks as we walk around the melted asphalt and proceed down the highway. “Everyone else is sucked dry.”
“For whatever reason, Tartarus’s powers don’t work on some humans,” Rasputin says. “The criminally insane seem to be particularly immune.”
“Then why is Lilith worried?” I mutter under my breath. “She’s clearly in the criminally insane category.”
No one replies, and we walk in silence the rest of the way.
The Newark airport looks just as it did when I’d flown from it to Toronto—dead bodies notwithstanding, of course.
Rasputin leads us to the hub hidden here, and we take a turquoise gate, which leads us to an island on a world with two suns. The island is in the middle of a never-ending ocean that is teeming with millions of spawning birds that jointly squawk louder than a roaring dragon.
The next world has rings like Saturn, and the one after that looks like a hub under some airport once again—but not ours.
Next, we reach a hub on top of a building in a familiar world with a nebula that looks like fire falling from the sky. Judging by Itzel’s excitement, I’m pretty certain the sprawling megapolis is what it looks like.
“Yes, it’s Gomorrah,” Rasputin confirms. “Earth is just through there.” He points at the gate a few feet away—the very one we always take to get home. “Unfortunately, I can’t go through that gate with you,” he continues.
“You can’t?” Felix and I say in unison.
“I can’t risk going back. Especially with you in the picture.” His shoulders sag as he looks at me. “My enemies from Russia could come for me, and you could get caught in the crossfire.” His gaze drops to the surface under our feet. “I’m afraid I lost my Earth privileges a long time ago, and the last hundred years haven’t changed that.”
“But I just found you,” I say in frustration. “We didn’t even get a chance to—”
>
“I know.” My father looks miserable as he meets my gaze again. “I could risk it, I suppose, and—”
“You’ll stay in my club here in Gomorrah.” Nero walks over to Rasputin and puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s under my protection, so the two of you can safely spend quality time there together.” He looks at me. “Gomorrah is just a limo ride plus a gate jump away, and my club is across the street.”
“Thank you,” Rasputin says to Nero before I can raise a million objections. “That would be for the best.”
“I’m sure you know this, but you’ll want to go to a world with humans on a regular basis,” Felix says to my father. “Else you’ll lose your powers here over time.”
“I’ll figure something out,” Rasputin says with a smile. “Thanks.”
“How about we go, and I set it all up?” Nero says decisively and turns toward the elevator. Over his shoulder, he adds, “I can take care of Itzel’s payment at the same time.”
“That’s great,” the gnome says excitedly. “I’d love to be done with this adventure and never think about what happened again.”
I shrug and follow everyone, and by the time we catch up with Nero, the elevator is already waiting for us.
The trip down is as fast as usual, and the lobby of the mega skyscraper is as awe-inspiring as always—as are the 3D holograms outside.
“I’m not going with you,” Ariel says, looking across the street with a strange expression.
“You’re not?” Felix frowns.
“Even just thinking about that club is—” She stops talking and shakes her head. “I think it’s much wiser if I head to rehab instead. Right now.”
“You do what you need.” I give her arm a reassuring squeeze.
“It’s just for a little bit longer,” she says, chewing on her lip. “I’m doing much better, but—”
“Leave your suit with me before you go,” Itzel butts in with all the social grace of a hippopotamus.