by Tricia Barr
Not that she wanted him.
Still.
The Dome was lost from view as they rounded the final bend, and Kenzie straightened in her seat, pulling the strap on her seemingly empty bag higher on her shoulder. This was it. This was the moment of truth.
This was—
“Freeze!”
The train had come to a stop, the door hissing open, but nobody moved. Several security personnel—though they looked more hardened and organized than the ones Kenzie had run into last time—stood outside the doors, weapons drawn, faces grim.
Kenzie’s eyes widened as she realized who their gazes were trained on. Leif.
Kenzie stepped in front of him, realizing too late that probably wasn’t the smartest move. She was a hated selkie, after all. What would prevent them from shooting her, too? Two birds, and all that.
But Myreen stepped in front of Kenzie a moment later. Kol tensed like he was about to do the same, but Myreen threw out an arm to signal him to stop, and Kol stilled on the edge of his seat, looking tense.
“Put your guns down,” Myreen said, her voice carrying authority despite the weariness that seeped through the edges.
The guards stared at her for a long moment. “But you have a vampire with you.”
“And a selkie and a human. Yes. But we’re all on the same side, here. So put your guns down. Don’t make me use my siren voice on you.”
The guards exchanged a look, then slowly lowered their guns.
“General Dracul has been alerted to your presence,” the same guard said, running a hand over his short-cropped hair.
In fact, they all wore about the same haircut. What’s going on around here?
The guards escorted them in, still eying Leif warily, when the leader stopped, holding up a hand. “What do we do with the blood sucker?”
“Don’t call him that,” Kenzie huffed, folding her arms.
Leif shrugged. “I don’t need much. A room with a piano would be my first choice, but other than that, I don’t require more than a space to exist in. Preferably in peace.”
“Damn creepy,” muttered another guard, and Kenzie bristled. “How did he get past the copper, anyway?”
Kenzie thought about volunteering her involvement in Leif’s copper immunity, but another guard turned to her, his eyes narrowed.
“You’re that selkie that made Draven a daywalker.”
It wasn’t a question, so Kenzie held her tongue. She didn’t really trust her voice at the moment, either.
“We all made sacrifices to be here,” Char said. “We’re hungry and weary. We can answer all your questions once we’ve had some time to recover.”
“Of course,” the leader said, though the faces of all the guards remained tight and their eyes alert. “Does anyone need medical attention?”
Myreen looked the group over. “It might be good to have Ms. Heather check everyone over. I used my harpy powers to heal everyone the best I could, but I wouldn’t mind getting a second opinion.”
“I’m fine,” Kol said.
Char nodded. “Yeah. I think I’d rather take a shower than get probed by the school nurse.”
“How does everyone else feel?” Myreen asked.
“Some food and a bed would be divine,” Piper said.
Kenzie shrugged. “Whatever.” She was too numb with amazement to care what they did. There were shifters everywhere, though none of them students—probably due to the late hour. Dragons climbed the vaulted ceilings, while weres of every stripe stood in mid-howls and growls. Mermaids propped up doorways, gryphons stood sentinel, and phoenixes blazed in frozen pyres. It was majestic and unsettling in every way.
A mao caught her eye and Kenzie reached out to touch it, but a sharp look from one of the guards made her pull her hand back.
And then there was a bleary-eyed student coming down the stairs, but one wide-eyed look at the group and they turned around.
The lead guard scowled. “Great. Let’s get the bloodsucker somewhere secure before we start a riot.”
Kenzie rolled her eyes, but Leif still seemed unphased. He was a better man than she could ever hope to have. And in that moment, something clicked inside of her. She loved Leif with every fiber of her being, but maybe not in the way she thought. Sure, she’d still like to feel those perfect lips against hers, if only to make her determination final, but she didn’t imagine it would ignite her. Not really.
“Jensen and Hanks, take him to the old Tinkerer’s office.” The lead officer pointed to two of the guards and then to Leif.
Jensen and Hanks nodded and flanked Leif, leading him away from the group. Kenzie hoped it was really to the safety of an empty office and not somewhere more sinister. Did the Dome have a dungeon? Kenzie shook her head. This wasn’t Heritage Prep. Hopefully the similarities ended at the word “school.”
Char and Kol trudged up the stairs, and Myreen and Piper began walking another direction. Kenzie followed Myreen, not knowing where else to go. The lead guard eyed them, then turned back toward the entrance.
This was it. Kenzie was really here.
And suddenly she felt about three inches tall.
After everything she'd done, did she really deserve to be in these halls? She was here now, after all that striving and begging, but she felt like an imposter, an outsider. She’d made the most deadly vampire even more unstoppable. She’d let Adam feed off her, even enjoying it on some sick level. She was the scum of the earth.
She almost turned back, almost insisted on walking out and never coming back. But she was hungry and tired and just wanted to be done for the day.
Myreen led them into the kitchen, opening the huge double-door refrigerator and rummaging through the contents while Kenzie and Piper seated themselves at the counter.
“Need help?” Kenzie asked, and Piper nodded.
Myreen shook her head. “Nah. You two just sit tight. Ooh, score.”
She pulled out some trays of food, one with a variety of fruit, one with roasted chicken, and one with mashed potatoes. The girls all made themselves plates, then sat quietly eating their food. No one bothered to warm anything up.
Kenzie only finished about half the plate before she pushed it away, fatigue tugging at her lids. But she needed a moment to give Gram a magical ring and let her know they were back. Maybe a quick call to Wes, too. Maybe.
Myreen pushed the plate back toward Kenzie. “You should finish.”
“Tomorrow.” Kenzie gave Myreen a weary smile. “Any chance I can get a moment to make some calls? It’s not that I’m trying to get away from everyone, it’s just...”
“You need a moment to yourself. I get it.” Myreen nodded, as did Piper.
“Yeah,” Kenzie said, then stifled a yawn. “I should probably call Gram, too.”
“You have your phone?” Myreen asked.
Kenzie snorted. “Nope. And I tossed the smartwatch as soon as we left the citadel. But selkies have their ways.” She gave the girls a sly look.
Piper cracked a smile, and Myreen laughed.
“Okay. I’ll be right back. Kenzie, behave yourself.” Myreen left as Kenzie saluted her.
The girls sat and scraped at the contents of their plates, the air heavy once more.
“What do you have in that bag, anyway?” Piper asked, pointing to the backpack still firmly slung over Kenzie’s shoulders. “You haven’t taken it off once since leaving Heritage Prep, but it looks empty.”
“Magic,” Kenzie said, smiling.
“Really?” Piper pushed her glasses up her nose. How the girl managed to keep them on the whole flight here, Kenzie had no idea.
“In a way, yes.”
“Can you show me?”
Kenzie shook her head. “If I did, I’d have to kill you. Or send you back to Heritage Prep.” She smiled, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she hadn’t said them.
Piper stared at her half-eaten food, then sighed and put her fork down. “How long do you think we’ll be safe down here?”
Kenzie shrugged. “Draven will come for us sooner or later. Probably sooner.”
“Definitely sooner,” Myreen said as she came back in. “He has my blood now. I overheard him telling...”—she cut her gaze at Kenzie for a moment—“saying that he took my blood without my knowledge. He’ll be a hybrid before we know it.”
Kenzie’s shoulders sagged. “That sucks.”
“We’ll figure it out later. You two can stay in the avian wing. They’ve got some empty rooms up there.”
“Empty?” Kenzie asked, lifting a brow.
“Yeah. I don’t know the story, but if Lord Dracul is any bit as accommodating as I remember, they probably left.”
“That doesn’t sound encouraging,” Piper said.
“I’m sure shifters at their worst are still better than Draven at his best,” Kenzie said, giving her best smirk.
Myreen didn’t deny it, but she didn’t look entirely convinced, either. Kenzie wondered what Myreen could have gone through at the hands of Lord Dracul to make her feel that way.
“Are you two done?” Myreen asked, casting a worried glance at the half-eaten plates.
Piper nodded. “Yeah, I could use some sleep.”
Kenzie raised her hand. “I am. Any way I can wrap this up for later? I hate to waste food.” She turned to Piper. “You want your leftovers?”
Piper shook her head.
“More for me.” Myreen helped Kenzie wrap up her food and they all put everything away, leaving the kitchen like they’d found it.
The three trudged up the stairs to the avian common room.
The dim lighting and lack of movement was kind of eerie. Kenzie wondered how things would look in the morning—if she woke up in time to see. Part of her was convinced that once she hit the sack, she’d be there for days.
“This room’s mine,” Myreen said, pointing at a door. “And the one next to it is Juliet’s. Assuming she’s still here.” She added the last part with a low voice. Kenzie wanted to go check on Juliet immediately, but decided it could wait.
“You two are in these two rooms,” Myreen said, indicating the doors they’d come to stand in front of. “Take your pick. Bathrooms are down the hall,” she said, and Kenzie looked where she was pointing to see a sign. “And you’ve already been to the kitchen, though technically it’s after hours and students are supposed to be in their bedrooms.”
“Good thing we’re not students,” Piper said, offering a half-hearted smile.
Kenzie snorted. Yet. But there was always a chance it wouldn’t happen, if the shifters hated her enough for what she’d done.
“Goodnight,” Kenzie said when no one moved. Then she headed for one of the doors Myreen had indicated, sending one last glance at Myreen and Piper, who were heading for their own rooms.
The bedroom she stepped into was simple and utilitarian, but it definitely had a lighter feel than the rooms at Heritage Prep. For one, the walls weren’t black. But there was something else in the simplicity of it all, a blank slate waiting to be filled with art and knowledge and life.
Kenzie stared at those walls for several moments before she slung the bag off her shoulder and dropped it onto the floor. There were some simple outfits in the closet, and Kenzie selected one. As she was putting it on, she muttered the magical words of the contact spell, focusing her mind on Gram.
“Gram? Are you there?”
There was some grunting, and Kenzie had the faint feeling of confusion.
“Gram. It’s me, Kenzie.”
“Kenzie?”
Kenzie smiled, imagining Gram fumbling for the lamp at her bedside. “Yeah. It’s me.”
“I was wondering when you’d call. I’m sorry I fell asleep.”
“Pfft. No worries. It’s late. I just wanted to let you know we reached the shifter school.”
“Everyone make it out okay?”
“Mostly. Myreen has a little brother at Heritage Prep she wanted to bring with us. Apparently he didn’t feel the same way.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Are you on your way home?”
“Not tonight. They’ve got us set up with rooms for now.” And hopefully for the foreseeable future. “I’ll let you know more when I do.”
“Okay. Glad you’re back safe and sound.”
Mostly. Kenzie wanted to dump every deplorable thing, but she was yawning again, her eyes barely able to stay open. But she did have one more question.
“How’s Wes?”
Gram laughed. “Fine, last we saw him. He’s a good kid. He’s gonna be just fine.”
“Cool.” Kind of. She wanted more, but Gram didn’t hold the answers she was looking for. “M’kay. I’m gonna hit the sack. I’m beat.”
“Okay. Sleep well.”
Kenzie snuggled into bed, the crisp blankets cradling her, the fluffy pillow like a cloud beneath her head.
“Kenzie?”
Kenzie’s eyes shot open, the haze of sleep still clinging to the edges of her vision. “Yeah?”
“The grimoire... you still have it, right?”
Kenzie smiled. “Yes Gram. Safe and sound.”
“Good. Now goodnight.”
“‘Night Gram.”
Kenzie let the connection drop and closed her eyes, sleep quickly taking her.
Everything would be better tomorrow. She could feel it in her bones.
Chapter 42: Kol
The enormity of the events from the past several weeks pressed into Kol’s bare shoulders with the weight of the snowy mountains he wished he could escape to. He sat on the edge of his bed. He was finally back at the Dome, finally safe within its walls, and finally showered. He counted the beats of his pulse. The steady rhythm soothed him. Counting and numbers, concrete facts and truths always soothed him.
Someone knocked.
“Come in,” he said, not bothering to pull his shirt over his head just yet. He was decent in his new smart clothing and jeans.
A clean-faced Char entered hesitantly. Her blonde hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head, her military uniform pressed and tidy. If not for the haunted look in her eyes, she could’ve been the same Char who appeared in the sim a little more than three weeks ago.
“Hey,” she said, pushing the door slowly closed until it clicked, then folded her hands in front of her. “How are you holding up?” she asked.
Kol answered with a bitter smile. “We could’ve died in there, Char,” he said, but was glad to see she wasn’t completely broken. There were times in that cell he thought she might be.
“I know,” she said softly, then moved to sit next to him on the bed.
“Harpy magic is pretty thorough,” Kol said, gesturing to his shoulder.
She glanced at the skin, unblemished and smooth. Not just healed, but like the wounds from having scales ripped from it never happened.
Harpy magic didn’t replace scales though. In dragon form, both he and Char would forever have weaks spot in their armor, on Kol’s left side and Char’s right side. Fortunately, the larger weak spot on Kol—his shoulder, where two were taken—didn’t house anything vital.
“I almost wish she’d left a scar,” he said, shrugging. “You know, a reminder?”
“I know a skilled naga tattoo artist,” Char said. “I know a lot of officers who have her immortalize their former wounds. She mixes the ink with some of her venom. Not enough to inebriate, but harpies can’t always help with the mental scars. Touching a tattoo mixed with naga venom eases the PTSD.”
“Are you?” he asked, pointing at her side.
She nodded. “I can give you her number.”
“Please.” He touched his shoulder. He might’ve imagined it, but the pressure of his fingertips seemed to help already, even though there wasn’t a tattoo yet.
A handful of breaths passed. Then Char asked, “Have you seen her? Since we’ve been back?”
Kol pulled his tee shirt over his head to hide the frown. “Not yet,” he said.
She patted his knee
with her hand—it was friendly gesture. “I’m sure you will.”
But they both knew she wouldn’t. The curse was effective.
“C’mon,” Char said, rising from the bed. “Let’s go get some food.”
Kol’s stomach rumbled in response and he stood to follow her out the door.
***
With plates piled high with various cuts of meat—the kitchen staff prepared several dragon favorites when Kol and Char returned—Kol and Char found a table toward the back of the dining hall. They muttered hellos to the various shifters who greeted them, nodding their heads toward them. The students all looked morose and Kol wondered if it was because they knew he and Char had been tortured at the hands of Draven and didn’t know how else to react. It was different than the way they used to treat him like royalty, but it still wasn’t preferable. But when he finally opened his eyes to the other students, the ones who didn’t even seem to notice his and Char’s presence, they all had that look.
Depression. Exhaustion. Beaten down. More than a few even looked like they had literally been beaten down because they were sporting black eyes and split lips.
“What’s happened here?” Char whispered, noticing the same strange behavior.
The familiar blonde surfer-cut and swagger—with maybe a little less swagger—walked toward their table. Kol rose to clasp the hand of his friend, who then uncharacteristically pulled him into a hug.
“Thought you were a goner, man,” Brett said, snatching a piece of bacon from Kol’s plate when they’d seated again. “That video Draven broadcasted...” He trailed off, eyes widened, and he let out a low whistle.
The corner of Kol’s lips rose. He recognized Brett’s deflecting, but his friend wasn’t wrong and the smile dropped again. Kol was grateful Draven hadn’t broadcasted everything that happened.
Brett and Char exchanged pleasantries while Kol downed half a plate of brisket. When Nik and Juliet joined them with identical expressions of fatigue and matching circles around their eyes, Kol worried something was seriously wrong. He didn’t know Juliet as well, but Brett had always been better at hiding stress than Nik.