by Jessica Gunn
Kind of.
“Stay in here for a bit,” I said. “Maybe they’ll all think you’re a pet lizard or something.”
At this, the dragon snarled, baring her little, sharp teeth.
“Okay, okay, calm down.” I hadn’t meant it as an insult. But if she’d understood my words, maybe it actually was. “I know you’re a beautiful little dragon.”
She smiled proudly.
“I really ought to name you at some point.” I patted her on the head again and turned toward the platform. The roaring of an upcoming train thundered down the dark tunnel. The baby dragon nuzzled close to my neck. “It’s okay. A train isn’t that scary.”
Although, I supposed for a small animal, it might be.
“That’s a weird lizard.”
I swung my gaze toward the voice: a stout man in a business suit, half-balding and holding a coffee.
“Uh, yeah.” I chuckled nervously. “Imported. You know how it is.”
Imported from where, though? That was the real question. How the hell had the supernaturals even gotten a hold of a dragon egg if they’d all supposedly died out in the Supernatural War?
The man gave me a long nod and a furrowed brow as the train slid to a stop in front of us.
I hopped onboard, finding a quiet spot in the back corner of an end car and hunkered down with the backpack in my lap.
The baby dragon lifted her head and looked to me expectantly.
“What?” I asked her. “We’ll be on here for a bit and then we’ll be out of the city. I know it’s crowded, but most people are nice.” But even as I glanced around and took careful stock of my traveling companions, I realized only a few were people. A few vampires. Some passengers had the yellowed eyes of werewolves. There was even a couple wearing the symbols of a few witch covens in the area.
The truth was: me, a human, and this dragon were more normal than the rest of the individuals in this train car.
I hated this new normal. I’d been born before the Supernatural War and shielded from most of it by my parents’ wealth and the guards around our mansion. And here I was, right in the middle of it all at the end anyway.
For so long, I’d wanted to be part of something that wasn’t tied to my parents’ legacy. I loved them, of course. But we ended up at odds, my own determination too strong. And that determination had landed me as this little one’s temporary guardian and me separated from my family.
I wasn’t sure I wanted this. But I’d at least see her to safety. Neither of us had asked for this situation. And it’d be wrong to leave her alone while she was this small and young.
At first the subway traveled through the city, but eventually we were out of the downtown area and aboveground. The baby dragon peeked her head out farther, sniffing at the air and looking out the window.
This train car wasn’t the best, but it’d work. We’d only be on it for a half hour tops and then we’d be free and out of the area. I wasn’t sure what to do at that point. I had family outside of Boston. But if I showed up with a baby dragon and they asked why I hadn’t gone to my parents and sisters, I’d stir up trouble.
For the most part, other passengers on this commuter rail paid us no mind. That was more than fine with me. I ran my hand over the dragon’s head and neck, studying her cobalt blue and bronze scales. Electricity coursed above them, but only where my fingers touched. She wasn’t necessarily a constant little living lightning rod, but she could produce it. Was it a happy thing, like the trills? Or did her emotions not tie into it?
Something told me we’d have plenty of time to figure it out.
The baby dragon’s stomach growled. She froze for a second, then looked to me, almost guiltily. I guess that breakfast sandwich earlier hadn’t been enough. It surely wasn’t healthy for a baby dragon either.
How in the world was I going to raise this dragon? Should I? I cared what happened to her. I even felt some weird sort of obligation to keep doing so. But at the same time, she wasn’t going to stay little forever. As it was, it felt like she’d grown overnight from the little hatchling that’d hatched from the egg to almost bigger than a normal housecat.
“I’ll get you something to eat once we’re off the train,” I told her. “I promise. Have any ideas what that could be?”
Her little stomach growled again as she nuzzled her head against my hand. An image of the morning outside the train from her point of view swam into my mind. She focused her dragon’s hunter vision on some squirrels in a tree.
“Well, lucky for you, those are plentiful here. Wait—how do you keep doing that?”
She looked at me expectantly, tilting her head.
I didn’t know what that meant.
“Right. Dragons are magic.” Or they were supposed to have been. “Just try not to do too much magic before we’re somewhere safe, okay?”
She kept looking at me as though I were missing something completely vital. However, I didn’t speak dragon. So I shrugged and glanced out the window she had been looking through. The sun had risen, and now the pinks and oranges were giving way to blue skies marred by only a few clouds.
At least night was over. Vampires wouldn’t be too much of a threat now. Not the younger, less powerful ones. Vampires gained resistance to sunlight the older and more powerful they grew. Although none could walk around in direct sunlight unprotected for very long, it was entirely possible Kristian—for example—could be waiting for me at the end of this rail, standing there on the platform for at least an hour.
Working at the casino had given me a weird window into the lives of the supernatural communities. One that I may not have gotten otherwise. And for so long, I’d almost wanted to be a part of them. Not as a vampire or a werewolf or something. I didn’t want to be changed from what I was. Not… physically like that. I just wanted to feel connected to something. Anything. Honestly connected.
The only thing I had to be connected to right now was knowing how to get out of this area and quickly. Where I was headed would be a matter for when I got off this train.
Which would be soon, considering the buildings going by. The outer neighborhoods outside Boston. The last platform on this rail should be filled with people beginning their commute back into the city too. The crowd would provide the cover needed to disappear, even if Kristian really was waiting at the end like a nightmare.
The baby dragon moved again, shifting as though trying to get comfortable. She’d slept some of the time while we’d waited belowground for the commuter rail to start running again. I still didn’t know what to call her. I never thought I’d have kids one day, forget coming into the possession of a baby dragon. She needed a name, though. “Baby dragon” seemed impersonal and sometimes, when her cobalt-gold eyes met mine, I could have sworn she was asking me to call her something specific.
I closed my eyes and tried to think. What did one name a baby dragon? Several media-famous ones came to mind. All too big or cheesy.
Zezza.
The name swam into my mind from seemingly nowhere.
Zezza. The name repeated.
I opened my eyes and found the baby dragon already looking at me with her piercing lightning eyes.
Zezza.
“Is that your name, then?” I asked her. “Zezza?”
The hatchling trilled.
“All right, then. It’s nice to formally meet you, Zezza. Mind telling me how you got that name? Or did you just decide on it for yourself because you’re that smart and what have I gotten myself into?”
She opened her mouth a bit, revealing a draconic toothy grin.
Oh yeah. I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into.
The train came to a stop at the second-to-last stop on the rail line. I stood and began shifting Zezza and her backpack back into place to be sure we were ready to exit at the last stop. As I did so, a loud, low growl built in her throat by my ear. I looked back at her, her scaled snout filling my vision. Small puffs of lightning crackled on each ferocious exhale.
; “What is it?” I asked. Before the words finished crossing my lips, I saw an image of Keir in my mind.
I glanced up in the direction of the doors as they slid open and… just outside them, standing on the platform, with his hands in his pockets and the ever-present smirk on his face, was Keir.
Still without an escort.
Chapter 7
“What the hell?” I muttered.
How had he gotten away with walking around outside the casino on his own? It wasn’t like fae had wings and all the sparkles and stuff that was sort of stereotypical, even of media after the meteor strike. But fae weren’t far from the ancient elves of the mortal weave. Keir’s pointed ears, angled face, and boyish charm stood out amongst the hardened crowd around us.
Zezza growled again.
“Stop that,” I said as I stroked down her neck. “Easy. We’re safe in this car.”
The doors slid open and the humans began boarding. Keir followed, catching my gaze for a moment while he stood outside the doors. He nodded quickly and made his way inside.
I shifted in my seat, angling Zezza into a corner just in case.
“Vera!” Keir said, grinning from ear to ear. “I was wondering where I’d find you.”
It took a lot of effort—I was starting to trust Zezza’s instincts over my own—but I plastered a smile on my face anyway. I couldn’t hide her fully, not like this. Especially not while she kept growling softly at Keir from beside my ear. Still, I met his playful gaze and said evenly, “So you were looking, then?”
He came to a stop next to a nearby handhold and leaned against a pole, relaxed. “I see the egg hatched. Funny, that.”
“Yes. Funny.” Funny like how you didn’t answer my question. It made me wonder if fae really couldn’t lie after all, and that was why he had avoided the question altogether. “Why are you so far from the casino unattended?”
He placed a hand over his heart and wore a mock-hurt expression. “You wound me.”
I rolled my eyes. He’s definitely playing games.
Zezza growled louder, more sharply. If she’d been older, it might have been a real dragon roar.
“Aw, that’s cute,” Keir said as the train doors shut and we took off again. He leaned in. “You cute little thing.”
Zezza lunged forward and tried to bite him. I grabbed her scaled body at the last second and pulled her back down.
“Zezza,” I hissed. “He’s a friend.”
Keir raised an eyebrow. “Am I now?”
To be completely honest, I wasn’t sure. But I wouldn’t tell him that. Or that I didn’t really have many friends at all.
I lifted an eyebrow his way. “Are you?” Get him to answer the questions.
Keir sighed and for the first time, his smirk dropped. “Vera, do you understand the value of what you’re currently coddling?”
“Is coddling her a bad thing?”
“It.”
“No, she’s a she.”
“It’s a tool, Vera.” Keir’s voice had suddenly taken on a serious tone that sent chills dripping down my spine like raindrops on car windows. Slow, uneven trails. “Dragons are tools.”
Zezza’s talons dug into my shoulder. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. Although she was a hatchling, Zezza’s talons seemed sharp enough to break skin with the smallest puncture.
Setting my jaw, I shrugged. “What does it matter to you anyway?”
Keir’s fae smirk returned. “And here I thought we were friends.”
“And if we were?”
“Friends give each other gifts.”
I chuckled. “Gifts. You want my dragon as a gift?”
“Your dragon now, is it?” He tilted his head and glanced beyond me to Zezza. “Interesting.”
I thought so too. I wasn’t sure when exactly Zezza had gone from a hatchling to my dragon, but here we were. She seemed to like me well enough, and I was basically running away from everything I knew to get her to safety. If that wasn’t enough to make her mine, there was always that weird lightning thing Zezza did whenever I touched her scales. Like it was another way for her to communicate besides showing me pictures.
“What’s interesting,” I said, “is why you happened to be at a platform, without an escort, on the rail line I’m currently riding, Keir.” Speaking his name felt powerful. It made my hands shake less. I wasn’t a fae; having a name to hold wasn’t as magical to me. But I could see why they liked it so much.
“I’d say it’s merely possibly a happenstance.”
“But I know that’s a lie.” Or an avoidance of the truth.
He nodded. “I’m here to offer you a bit of advice… and maybe a trade.”
I gave him a deadpan look. “I know you and all of those supernaturals at the game tonight think I’m some sort of stupid mortal, but I know better than to make any sort of deal or trade with a faerie.”
Except I had. I’d bet my name and lost it in the deal to Keir. And I was still waiting to see the ramifications of that decision. Keir knew it as well as I.
“Good,” Keir said. “That’s a decent start. Because after what I’m going to tell you, you’re going to need to keep those wits about you, Vera.”
“Stop using my name.” Each time he spoke the word, a coolness swept over my arms and legs, down my spine and back up again. Like strings attaching to every part of a marionette. Keir’s marionette.
Me.
“Why? It’s a beautiful name,” Keir said as his eyes roamed down my body. It felt like that cool gaze saw every part of me and then some. Like I’d given him more than my name last night and he’d taken it wistfully. “I quite like it.”
I managed to get out, “I’m sure you do,” before Zezza growled again. My words turned into a yelp as she dug her talons deeper into my shoulder.
Keir smiled. “Now, now, little one. There’s no need for that. I don’t intend on hurting Vera here.”
“Then what the hell do you want, Keir? Because my stop is next and I’m getting off this train whether you like it or not.”
“That’s fine with me,” he said as he leaned back again. “I’m here for the dragon. You can leave whenever and however you please.”
My stomach dropped as dread filled it to the brim. “No.”
Keir laughed. “As if you could stop me.”
“You should have won the egg yourself,” I said. “It wasn’t my idea to join. And it wasn’t my plan to win.”
“Gods, can we stop the dramatics, Vera?” His eyes rolled. “Understand me. I don’t want the dragon for anything bad, and she will likely live. You see, dragons are rare.”
“No, really?” I feigned innocence while filling my words with thick sarcasm.
“They’re extinct,” he continued through my charade. “Or they’re supposed to be. Before the war, they were the most powerful supernaturals the world had ever seen. When they were hidden and tucked away, living their lives in tiny, untouched corners of the world. The highest volcanoes, the most remote deserts. The cold, frozen tundra of the north and south poles. But when the meteor hit, they came together. Fearing like the rest of us what it might mean. Vampires and werewolves known to mankind. Faekind able to cross over between realms. Dragons out in the open.”
I sighed heavily, overdramatic. “And then the supernaturals banded together and attacked the dragons, afraid of their power in this new world, while the humans were too busy recovering to do anything about it. I know the story, Keir. I lived through it.”
I’d been sixteen and partying. The night the meteor hit had solidified my path to being estranged from my family. I was supposed to have picked my sister up from theater rehearsal. Instead, I was drinking and dancing the night away until an earth-shattering rock from space pulverized the ley-line running up the entire eastern coast of the United States.
The dark, hallow days that had followed the purple and pink skies and continued into the Supernatural War would forever be imprinted on my memory. I’d barely survived. If I hadn’t been with my t
hen best friend, Alexis—a witch and I’d never known—I probably would have become feeding fodder to the Night Court years ago.
That night magic had sprung from every source, creating new ones and snuffing out others. People who hadn’t had magic before the meteor suddenly had. Vampires had walked the streets until the ash and soot had cleared. Werewolves had howled all night long. The human world had crumbled, needing the assistance of the supernaturals to recover.
And the fae, creatures like Keir, had crossed over, bringing with them their more apparent elven heritage. The same heritage we all shared, somewhere, back in time. A secret mystery lost to eons of quiet evolution.
But nothing was quiet about this new world. Not anymore.
“Good,” Keir said. “Then I can skip over most of this, except for how dragon society used to be.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. How would he know how dragon society had been? Unless… I’d heard fae aged slower than humans. Maybe Keir was much older than he looked despite his golden-blond hair and roguish charm, which I hated every ounce of me for being attracted to. “What’s your point?”
“Dragons had a king and queen,” Keir said. “Like other societies. But they also had a guardian. A caretaker.”
“Okay.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the train was beginning to slow down and I recognized the area. The final platform was approaching fast.
Keir leaned in once more. “They called that individual the Warden of the Storm.”
Zezza’s scales seemed to warm beneath my fingertips as Keir spoke the name. I didn’t have to look to know she was doing that weird lightning crackles thing again.
“Keir, speed things up, please? We’re almost to the platform.”
He lifted his hands in a vague surrender. “Fine. I need the dragon. I need to convince my family that I’m Warden of the Storm. I know your world knows who I am, and that my family disowned me long ago due to being a bastard. I need your dragon and this title to see my place near the Court’s throne once more. That is all.”