by G. Bailey
“Fine. I could use some chocolate and ice cream,” I reply. I follow him back to the car park, and he opens the door for me, letting me in.
“Take the main road out of town, and then its three rights to get to the Tesco,” I explain to him, as it’s pretty hard to find. I don’t know why they didn’t just buy a building in town to put the store in, but they didn’t.
“So, why are you skipping class?” Dagan asks me after he starts driving.
“Why are you?” I counter.
“I'm not. My last class was cancelled because my history teacher is sick. They let us all go home early,” he explains.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Come on, I want to know,” he nudges my shoulder gently. Dagan catches and holds my gaze when he finds me looking at him, “I want to help, let me.”
“You can’t help, not with this,” I mutter.
“Explain, and then we will see,” he replies.
“Fine. My boyfriend died in the gym, and I went there today. I don’t know, it just freaked me out, and upset me,” I tell him, and he nods.
“How did he die?”
“A fire a few years ago,” I say, because I can’t really tell him the truth. That my step aunt stabbed him through the heart with a dagger.
“I’m sorry, I really am. They say you never lose someone close to you, not really. Not in here,” he points at his chest.
“But you miss them. You miss them so much it hurts sometimes,” I say, and he reaches over, lifting my hand and just silently holding it.
“I can’t relate to you, I can’t tell you how to feel. So, I won’t, but I can be here as your friend, or whatever you want me as Isola,” he says, more serious than he is ever usually like with me.
“I sometimes wonder if Jace would hate me for moving on, for even thinking of someone else that way.”
“If he loved you, no he wouldn’t. He would want you to be happy, to love, and to live life to the fullest. That’s all anyone wants for someone they love, and I’m sure he felt that way about you,” he says, just as we spot the Tesco. We take two more turns until we pull into the car park and get out. I hadn't realized until he lets go, but he'd been holding my hand, lightly stroking it with his thumb, the entire time we'd been talking.
“Did she give you a list?” I ask, wanting to change the subject. From the look Dagan throws me over the car bonnet, he realizes, but still allows it.
“Yeah, not that I have a clue what half the things on here are,” he shrugs, pulling a list out his pocket.
“Okay, you push the trolley, and I’ll put things in, nice and simple,” I say, opening the list and seeing mainly herbs, meat, and fresh food. There is also in big bold letters at the bottom saying, “Buy your own junk food,”
“Apparently you need to buy your own junk food,” I show Dagan, who chuckles as he gets a trolley, and we walk into the store. It’s really strange how normal this is, shopping in the human world with Dagan, a big scary dragon. I'm sure he never would have done this if he remembered who he is.
“Okay, so let’s get the junk food first. It’s near the entrance,” I muse, and Dagan claps his hands.
“You should hold the trolley then,” he grins as he starts throwing god knows how much junk food into the trolley. When it’s basically full, we are at the end of the isle.
“You can’t possibly eat all this!” I say, just not believing it.
“I don’t want to come back to the store, and Korbin and Elias will eat shit loads too,” he shrugs, and then steps backwards. Everything seems to slow down, just like in the movies, as as Dagan bumps into a stack of dozens of cereal boxes piled on top of each other in a triangle shape, and they go flying everywhere.
“Whoops,” Dagan says, straightening up, and we look over to see an angry shop assistant glaring at us.
“Dagan,” I hiss, turning the trolley around and getting the hell out of there. Dagan and I basically run down the aisle and into the next one, both us stopping to stare at each other before bursting out laughing. By the time we stop laughing, we have tears running down our faces.
“Come on, before they find us, and we get kicked out,” I tease him. He takes the trolley as I get the list back out. This was just what I needed to cheer me up. Dagan is just what I needed.
Chapter 10
Isola
I’ll go get the last bag, don’t worry about it,” I say, stopping Dagan from walking out of the kitchen. He chucks his keys at me, and I reach out a hand to catch them. I eye the twenty or so bags lying all over the kitchen and mentally sigh. It’s going to take forever to unpack all the junk food he has bought.
“Okay, I will start putting everything away. Can you lock the car when you're finished?” he asks me, rolling that lip ring between his lips, and totally distracting me enough to drop the keys. I reach down, picking them up as I mentally curse myself. Gotta get it together Isola.
“Sure,” I smile at him, and walk out. The sun is bright today, making it almost warm unlike the usual cold, wet weather we have. I walk out to the car and reach into the boot.
“Danger,” my dragon’s voice warns me, hissing the words in my mind. I open my senses, still trying to act normal. As I'm reaching for the last bag, I hear it, the sound of something flying at me from behind. I turn, and hold both of my hands out, making an ice wall just as two daggers slam into it, one cutting my hand.
“Shit,” I hiss in pain as I lower my hand, seeing the deep cut but knowing I have bigger problems. I slowly look around the ice wall, keeping my senses open, but see nothing.I can't smell anyone around either, only the residual scents of the people living with me.
“Dragon? Can you sense them?” I ask her, trusting her senses.
“Gone,” she whispers. Looking back at the wall of ice, I spin around and kick the bottom, and it falls to pieces. I reach down and pull one of the daggers out of the ice. It is dragonglass, with a red dragon symbol etched into the wooden handle. The second one is the same.
“Isola?” Dagan shouts from inside, and I quickly throw the dagger into the boot of the car. I pull the second one out, shoving that in too. I will have to remember to get these out before Jules sees them and has a heart attack. I grab the last grocery bag with my good hand, cursing at the blood dripping freely from the other, and shutting the boot. I look at the ice briefly, hoping it will melt before anyone sees it. I run up the stairs, looking behind me once more for any threats, before shutting the front door.
“What the hell happened?” Dagan says, dropping the cereal box in his hands, and rushing over to me when I get into the kitchen. He lifts my cut hand, pulling me into the kitchen so he can see it under the spotlights and picking up a towel, placing it on the cut.
“I err…shut my hand in the boot door,” I claim, the only thing I can think of, as I put the plastic food bag down on the floor.
“When you said you try not to be clumsy, you were lying, right?” he asks, a small concerned smile on his lips, making me chuckle.
“Yep,” I reply, and he shakes his head at me.
“Hold this on it, while I go get the first aid box,” he presses my free hand on the towel and steps away.
“It’s under the sink in the bathroom downstairs,” I tell him. He nods, heading in that direction. I watch him walk away, as I run the image of the dagger through my mind. It wouldn’t be Tatarina’s or someone she sent, because I have no doubt she would use a dagger with an ice dragon and fire dragon on it to make a point when killing me. I guess it could be her, yet she would make a curse by killing me because of Bee, and she isn’t that stupid. Thorne doesn’t want me dead, he made that clear by stopping his mother from killing me before. So, who would do this? Dagan comes back and I try to relax, attempting to forget that someone just tried to kill me. Even though that’s impossible.
“Let’s go upstairs. Jules will be home any minute and I don’t want to explain this to her. She will only freak out, and want me to go to hospital,” I ask, hopping of
f the seat after Dagan nods his agreement.
“If it needs anything more than butterfly stitches, we still might have to go,” Dagan says once we get to the stop of stairs. When we reach my room, I open the door with my elbow.
“I heal fast, so don’t worry,” I reply, walking into my room. Dagan switches the light on and I sit on the bed, moving the towel to look at the cut. It’s pretty deep, straight across my tree mark, splitting the tree in half. It has begun to heal a little already, and I doubt it even needs butterfly stitches, just a bandage will do. Dagan sits next to me on the bed, pulling my hand to him, and inspecting it. He gets some antibacterial wipes out the box and starts slowly wiping the blood away.
“I didn’t know you had a tattoo,” he says, admiring the tree mark. "Do you have any others?" When he slides a thumb over it, a burst of warmth shoots through me, and he quickly moves his thumb away. Dagan continues to clean my hand, though he keeps giving me strange looks.
“Nope, just this one,” I answer, clearing my throat and wondering what the hell that was.
“The green ink is amazing, so unique,” he comments, and I flinch as he wipes the cut, the cleaning solution burning the cut.
“Sorry, kitty cat, I should have warned you that would sting,” Dagan comments, stroking my wrist with his fingers in a soothing way.
“It’s okay, thanks for helping me,” I reply. I close my eyes and inhale his smoky scent as he wipes the cut again, and I have to bite my lip at the sting. He smells like home, like everything I really didn’t know I needed.
“Anything you need, you come to me,” he commands as I open my eyes. Looking up, his blue eyes hold such promise as he stares at me. I still remember the Dagan that didn’t like me, who would never look at me like this. Wouldn’t help me, not unless he was forced. It’s still him, but he is a lot nicer, that’s for sure.
“What are you thinking, kitty cat?” he asks, and I pull my eyes away from his. When I look back, he is reaching into the box for a white bandage and tape.
“I was wondering about what you like to do in your spare time?” I respond, saying the first thing I can think of.
“Other than catching you from falling, and fixing your injuries?” he jokes, making me laugh, “well, I like to work out. The basement gym here is pretty good.” I smile tightly, remembering all the times Jace and I would train and fight in that basement. How our first time was actually in there, on one of the sofas. It wasn’t romantic, we were both drunk and had no idea what we were doing, but it still meant something.
“Hold still a sec,” Dagan says, letting go of my hand. Putting the bandage underneath, he wraps my hand tightly before ripping some tape and tying it. This reminds me of when I cut my hands in Dragca, and Thorne fixed me up. All that time he was planning to betray me, but as I look up at Dagan, I just feel confused. Sending them to me was helping me somehow, it couldn’t have been done for any other reason.
“Tell me about your childhood, your parents?” I ask Dagan, needing a change of subject, as he puts the spare stuff away. I pick up the wrappers, walking over to my bin and dropping them in. I sit on the window seat, pulling up my legs.
“My mum and dad work for the army, so there’s a lot of travelling. We went everywhere, moving every month or so. It wasn’t much fun moving all the time,” he says each word like a robot who was programmed to say this speech. I smile tightly, wondering how far I can push his memory. I remember seeing Elias hold his head, the pain of remembering before it was time overwhelming him, I suspect. I need to push Melody into talking to me, telling me what she knows of my future and how to make them remember.
“What about you, your parents?” he asks.
“My mother and father are dead, but I have a half-sister and uncle. They just don’t live around here,” I say, feeling weird about talking about my sister so casually when it still feels so raw.
“Jules said she talks to your father, and he pays her?” he asks me, his suspicious eyes narrowing on mine.
“She means my uncle, he claims to be my father sometimes,” I lie, and I know he knows it when he tuts.
“You’re not a good liar, you should work on that, kitty cat,” he says and picks the first aid box up, walking to the door. He stops when he opens it, looking back at me.
“When you came back in that kitchen, you were scared. Is it safe for me to leave you?”
“Of course it is,” I say, trying to wave it off.
“If you need a guard, a friend, or anything…I’m only two doors away,” he says and walks out, the look in his eyes staying with me. He knows I'm hiding something. Even when he doesn’t remember who he is, or who I am, he still wants to guard me. For some reason, it makes my heart flutter.
Chapter 11
Isola
I shoot my eyes open, seeing a gun pointing at another version of me. My hair is up in a ponytail, and I have my dragon leather outfit on, which gives me hope that I get back to Dragca at some point. I can’t see who is holding the gun, only the slightly wobble of the person’s hand as they hold it in front of my face. I don’t move, just hold my hands up, and speak words I can’t hear. I can’t even see the room, only a smoky blur instead.
“Hey sis!” I hear Melody say cheerfully, making me jump. Why do people keep appearing out of nowhere? I turn to see her walk through the smoke, wearing the same red dress as last time I saw her. Her hair is up in a bun this time, and her marks on her face almost glow in the dimly lit room.
“Another warning visions?” I ask.
“Oh this, no, well yes. It doesn’t matter, I only use them to be able to talk to you, as the visions won’t change,” she waves a hand like someone holding my future self at gunpoint isn't important.
“Someone tried to kill me, with daggers,” I tell her, and she sighs.
“Thorne thinks he controls his mother, that she isn’t stupid enough to kill you. He doesn’t know her at all. Watch your back,” she warns me.
“I wish people would stop coming into my dreams, it’s just annoying now,” I give her a pointed look, but she just raises an eyebrow at me.
“And I wish I didn’t have to use my power every day to keep you safe, but we all don’t get what we want. Now grow up, get over it, and listen,” she tells me off, and surprised, I decide to listen. She does have a point.
“What is going on in Dragca? Has anyone seen my uncle?” I ask, needing to know what is going on. He is all I have left who is on my side over there, that I know of anyway. If I can get to him, then I can figure something out. I don’t think walking back into Dragca with no plan is a good idea. I remember how Tatarina looked at me; she wants me dead, and I have a feeling Bee and the curse is the only reason I’m not.
“No, we haven’t found him, but that’s a good thing. He is hiding with the seers somehow, smart man,” she pauses to wink. “Anyway, your step brother is being ruled by his mother. She is an evil bitch, just in case you were unsure, and his dear auntie is her executioner. The whole of Dragca is spilt with those who are scared, but secretly hope you are still alive, those who support Thorne but are scared of his mother. Then there are others who don’t know who to choose so they are going to the seers, who will not choose a side anymore,” she explains.
“I will come back soon and convince the seers to side with me. With you by my side, it shouldn't be too difficult," I promise.
“Oh, I know, only…it’s not going to be as easy as you think. Once you come back, I’m not seeing all your future, just bits, like this gunshot…it’s bothering me. I see you coming for me, and then it’s black. I’m missing something,” she says, frustration written all over her face.
“Can I stop Thorne from coming into my dreams? Is there any way you can tell me how to make the guys remember?” I ask her, knowing this dream can’t last forever, and talking about the future isn’t what I need to know.
“No, it’s fate, and good for you both,” she says, with a sad smile. She looks over her shoulder at something, but I only see smoke. W
hen she looks back, the sad smile replaced with tight lines.
“Which is?” I ask.
“All of this, it’s what has to happen, and there are so many outcomes that could occur. I could tell you the clearest route, but then it would risk that future. First rule of being a seer, you don’t tell your closest family their futures, unless you want them dead,” she says, seeming happy, and then she looks behind herself again. Her smile disappears, and worry fills her face instead.
“What are you looking at?” I ask.
“I’m projecting from my room while half-asleep, and Thorne is knocking the door,” she says and turns back, “I don’t have much time as he wants me to look for you again, tell him what you are doing, and that means his mother is out for a bit,” she explains.
“I hate him Odie! I can’t, and don’t want to see him in my dreams. Also, I don’t want you telling him what I’m doing!” I shout at her.
“Have you ever heard the saying, “there’s a fine line between love and hate”, she says, but a gunshot makes me jump before I can yell at her about her ridiculous idea. I don’t love Thorne, I detest him. I can’t stand him for what he has done. I look over to see the future me holding my stomach, the person with the gun actually shot me. Who is it? I try to walk over, but something stops me, like a glass wall I can’t see.
“Time to wake up, your dragon guards need you, and time is short,” Melody tells me. I go to correct her about the love and hate thing, and the stupid saying which is bugging me when I know there is more important things to find out. Like who shot me.
“I’ve been shot, who is that?” I bite out.
“Oh, that’s nothing and you know I can’t tell you. I know you live...if that helps,” she chuckles, and then everything blurs away. Being shot isn’t nothing, but I don’t get to tell her that.