The Dragon and the Rose

by Addison Moore

  “Of course, we only have their best interest at heart,” Mom interjects. “You know—to get them off on the right foot. They are newlyweds after all. They could use all the privacy they can get.” Her voice grows tight as wire. “It could be a Christmas gift.”

  Ah fuck.

  “A hundred thousand US?” Lizbeth gasps at the idea.

  A choking sound emits.

  Skyla looks up. “God, I think they just killed Tad!”

  “Ha!” Tad bellows, proving he’s alive and well with his sense of humor still intact. “Would you look at that, Lizbeth? They’re sick of hearing the mattress squeak all night. I bet that little love song they belt out until all hours of the morning is costing you both a pretty good night’s sleep.”

  Uncomfortable silence.

  I’m mortified enough to croak, and I’d consider it if Skyla weren’t here in my arms.

  Skyla tries to barrel into the room, but I pull her in close.

  “Maybe we should go?” I whisper directly into her ear. “Let the mattress springs fall where they will.” I doubt we’ll be getting a condo out of it.

  Her eyes squint out their disapproval before she smacks me and barrels on in.

  “What’s this?” She hops slightly as she heads to the refrigerator seemingly oblivious to what’s going on.

  I give a slight wave at the folks. I’ll admit, it’s more than unnerving seeing them all gathered around the table—discussing my lackluster financial future no less.

  “There are some fresh baked cookies on the stove!” Lizbeth points with her head while bouncing Misty on her lap.

  Tad lets out a grumpy huff. “No need to tell him where the food is. You can bury it six feet deep in a steel casket, and he’d still fish it out before midnight.”

  Mom flattens her palms over the table. “Why are you constantly insulting my son?”

  “Crap,” I mutter. “I’m not insulted, I swear. He’s just stating a fact.” Not really, but I’ll proverbially eat it in an effort to keep the peace.

  “You’re just being polite.” Mom gives a thin-lipped smile.

  “Tad, apologize!” Lizbeth snaps so loud the baby starts in on a hacking cry.

  Tad squawks like a bird. “I think these people should apologize for trying to squeeze a hundred grand out of the Landon turnip. Did you hear that, Skyla? Your in-laws here think we should all pitch in and buy you a palace. What do you think of that? Not one person in this room is interested in listening to the two of you grunting like apes.”

  A round of gasps circle the table, even Misty looks at her father shocked by his crass mouth. I’d shut it by way of slamming his face in a plate full of cookies, but Skyla has my balls in a vice.

  “We came with good intentions.” My mother stands, and Dad is quick to follow.

  “Persnickety intentions!” Tad harks.

  “Gage, Skyla”—Dad nods—“we’ll see you at the house. You’re still welcome at our home.”

  Lizbeth stands and slaps her hand over the baby’s back repeatedly. “I have a feeling you’re a little more welcome at the Landon house.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Tad balks. “The only thing they’re welcome to do is erect a teepee in the backyard.”

  “You may not kick my daughter out of this house!” Lizbeth bellows, and the baby screams. My parents make a run for the exit as a riotous argument ensues.

  “Let’s get out of here, Gage.” Skyla leads me to the door. “I can’t believe your parents did that.”

  “Offered to buy us real estate for Christmas?”

  “No—put my mother and Tad in a position that made them uncomfortable. Everyone knows they’re near destitute, with dozens of mouths to feed, and hardly a dollar in the bank.”

  “You’re right. I don’t know what they were thinking.”

  “They were thinking they can’t stand another minute of our jungle love.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “I know just the thing.”

  Freaking Dudley.

  “Just one night.” His liver-colored eyes glare at me an undue amount of time. “Separate bedrooms.”

  “Marshall.” Skyla waves him off as she makes her way in. “So where are the boys at?”

  By boys she means Logan, Liam, and most likely Ellis if he has the balls to show his face. I’m not in the mood to see “the boys.” I’ve already had my dick hacked off and stuffed in my mouth for the night. I just want to bury my head in a pillow and figure a way out of this mess. I don’t want to spend the night at Dudley’s with Skyla any more than I want to be sleeping at my parents or the Landon’s. It’s time to grow the fuck up. I just can’t seem to figure out how.

  Dudley growls. “On the back porch in what the Pretty One refers to as the stoner’s circle. Would you kindly pass the word along that the eviction stands for each of you? I’m afraid I’ve reached my limit of dolts for the year.”

  Skyla zips out the back, and a plume of smoke snakes its way into the house as she opens the door.

  “I appreciate this.”

  Dudley bears into me with those poisoned eyes of his and doesn’t crack a smile.

  “You’re shaping up to be quite the man about celestial town.”

  Here we go.

  “Has your father apprised you of the misfortune you stand to acquire should you and my lady love bring forth a child into the union?”

  “Dominion.” Enough said. We both know it only benefits Demetri in the end. “Skyla and I have decided not to have children.”

  “You’ve decided?” He tilts his head, amused at my word choice. “How dutiful of you. About how many persons on this planet do you assume were conceived on the heels of a well thought out plan? How about you, Mr. Oliver? Were you brought to be by your mother’s grand design? Perhaps your father’s?” He takes off, disappearing into the dining room.

  Perhaps my fathers. He got that right.

  But this is one fire Skyla and I aren’t playing with.

  Once we graduate and get on our feet, we’ll adopt. It’s noble. Everyone should do it. But deep down, it kills me that our bodies will never unite in that special way to create a perfect beautiful being with Skyla’s heaven-washed eyes and cute little nose.

  Breaks my damn heart.

  I head out back.

  Ellis is seated between Skyla and Liam, and I try not to let my temper get the best of me. Instead, I take a seat next to Logan. It hurts to know how bad my betrayal has been. I lace my fingers behind my neck and stare up at the fog, willing it to tunnel out so I can see the stars, and slowly, ever so slowly, the sky opens up above me.

  It’s back.

  I’m back. I don’t say much, just listen as Liam and Skyla talk about ways to save the bowling alley from financial peril. I scoot my chair closer to the house to get out of the stream of voices for a moment, and Logan scoots right along with me.

  “Everything okay?”

  Logan. I close my eyes. He was everything to me growing up. My freaking idol. In a lot of ways, he still is. He’s my brother at heart. But after what I’ve done, I can’t even look at the dude.

  “Yeah, everything is just dandy.” I don’t ask how he is. I think it’s about time I went down and saw for myself. I’ve asked Wes on a few occasions, but he swears it needs to be a sterile environment, or the worm shit turns to dust. I squeeze my eyes shut tight. How sterile can it be if there’s a fucking corpse in the room? And it breaks my heart that my true brother is the corpse. It shatters that cold block of ice in my chest like glass.

  “I know it’s rough for you guys. The offer still stands. Move into Whitehorse.”

  “No.” I don’t miss a beat.

  “Then let me give you both a healthy raise.”

  “And let the bowling alley tank? Nope.”

  “Then what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I’m an English major. Skyla and I are never going to be billionaires with my income. I guess I’d better invest in a good sturdy teepee.”


  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “So you’re going to write?”

  “That’s the dream—leave my indelible stain on the world by way of shuffling the alphabet.” A herd of little girls, all with Skyla’s smile, waft in and out of my mind. That will never be my legacy. A set of twin boys that look identical to Wes and me blink in and out. Not that either.

  Logan puts his arm around my shoulder and touches his head to mine. His breathing is heavy. I’m afraid if I open my eyes I might see him tearing up. Liam and Ellis are still murmuring away a million miles an hour, and every now and again Skyla laughs. Whatever is happening between Logan and me is just between the two of us.

  “Write a good book, Gage. Write fifty of them. Words matter. The people who read them matter. You matter to me, buddy.” A hot tear dots the side of my face as he gets up and heads on in.

  My eyes remain sealed. I’m afraid if I open them, Skyla might see the tears were mine all along.

  Late that night, Skyla comes into my room.

  “If Dudley finds you in here, he’ll saw off my balls and feed them to the llamas. His words not mine.”

  “He will not.” Her sweet perfume chases me down. “Besides, there’s not a thing he can do to stop me. I sleep best in Gage Oliver’s arms.” She plants a kiss on my cheek, and I slide my laptop off my legs. “Whatcha’ doin’?”

  “Working on my book.”

  “Ooh! Let me see! Let me see!”

  “Nope.” I swiftly shut the monitor and offer up a dimple-digging smile that I know she can’t resist. It’s the best weapon in my arsenal. The only weapon, but it works every time.

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t let you see my writing.” I scoop her onto my lap. “I’m embarrassed as hell.”

  “Please? I’m so proud of you, and I know I’ll love whatever words you happen to pen. I want to be your first reader.” She purses her lower lip. “Well, don’t just sit there dimpling at me, tell me what it’s about.”

  “You—me.”

  “You and me? It is fiction, right?” She raises her brow as if asking a question.

  “Yes.” A dark laugh rumbles through me. “But the main character’s name is Gage.”

  “You can’t name the main character after yourself. I’m sure there’s some author code of ethics regarding that. Plot please. What happens to sweet, innocent Gage?”

  “It’s suspense—lots of murder and mystery—I threw a love triangle into the mix just to keep things interesting.”

  “Love triangle?” She wrinkles her nose. “I’d be wary. Those are so yesterday. Everybody hates them. It’s not like they’re reality based—I mean what girl has two hot guys pining after her?”

  This time it’s me raising a brow.

  She bites her bottom lip, withholding a smile. “You win. You can keep the love triangle, but change your main character’s name. You’re my private reserve. I don’t want every woman in the world lusting after you.” She pulls me in by the chin. “Only this one.”

  “This one is all I’ll ever need.”

  Skyla and I slip beneath the covers and make quiet, beautiful love, far more discrete than we’ve been at either of our families’ homes. Skyla latches around me with a full bodily hug, and I thrust in nice and slow. This is nothing animalistic like in the truck earlier. This isn’t fueled by an erotic fury. This is simply me loving my high school sweetheart, the girl I was lucky enough to marry—the girl who would leave me in a heartbeat if she knew what I had done—what I’m still doing—even if I have the best excuse in the world.

  Maybe there are no excuses.

  I wait until she’s fast asleep before I slip away to the bathroom and transport myself to what I’ve unaffectionately dubbed the Bat Cave.

  I step out of the corridor and out onto a pedestal built just for me and raise my hands at the burgeoning crowd of the Viden people—my people. Their voices escalate in union. They chant my name like a victory song—only it’s not Gage, or Oliver, or anything that I’m remotely used to. It’s Master. Over and over again they call me their master, and my adrenaline pumps ten times harder than it ever has on any football field. I feel a rush that I’m certain doesn’t hold a candle to any synthetic high that drugs or alcohol can provide. This is what I’ve been craving. This is my new sick addiction—the adulation of strangers, the call of Master as they look to me with wonder.

  Wesley steps forward and leads us into the New Moon ceremony. I’ve convinced Wes to skip the sacrifice of peacocks he’s accustomed to as a Count and suggested we drink fermented spirits instead. The Counts have a plethora of wine from ages past that would make the finest collectors claw to get their hands on it. Tastes like shit from a moldy barrel if you ask me.

  “Son.” Demetri steps over as the ceremony drones on. “I had the pleasure of speaking with Lizbeth this evening. She seemed frazzled, upset with her betrothed. She filled me in on the difficulties you’re having.”

  “Okay.” Not sure what to do with that. I’ve always known that he and Skyla’s mother had a thing. I’m not sure Skyla would like to hear Lizbeth has been running to Demetri with her problems although that’s nothing new. “Have you thought about my offer?”

  “Cash and prizes? I’m pretty sure Skyla wouldn’t agree to it.”

  His eyes widen before they’re set into their permanent squint, laughing at me and the rest of the world. That’s what he does best.

  “There is six hundred thousand dollars in a savings account with your name at the Paragon Island Credit Union. Simply show them your ID. They’re instructed to service you and your bride if you wish. Or, you can simply make a withdrawal as needed—say once a month when the rent is due? You are my son. I trust you can get creative.”

  Get creative. A visual of me offering Demetri up on that sacrificial stone bounces through my mind.

  “There you go.” Laughter brews from his throat.

  “I don’t like the fact I have virtually no privacy with you. I also don’t like the fact you let Skyla take me down like that tonight.”

  “There was nothing I could do.”

  “So it’s true. She has the ability to bind me at a moment’s notice.”

  “Not true. There’s a level of rage that needs to be achieved. In the future, you’ll have more than a moment’s notice. Why do think I keep this smile on my face? You’ll learn to defuse her soon enough.”

  “I don’t know, rage seems easy for her these days.”

  “Love her. Let her love you. Enjoy your life, your wife. Enjoy the new life that destiny has carved for you.”

  “I won’t be here long enough to enjoy it.”

  “What kind of love do you have for this woman that you’re so eager to give her away?”

  I choke on my response. The stock answers I had already spewed out a thousand times before seem stale in the harsh light of the truth. I could have everything—more than I ever wanted or imagined. Why the hell am I so eager to piss everything away? All I know is that I’ve grown—grown up, or simply woke up, and am finally starting to realize there isn’t a damn thing I want to throw away—least of all myself. My love for Skyla is strong. And the last thing I want to be is dead.

  “I gave Wesley what he requested.” I drill my angry gaze into his. “Your end of the deal was to make sure all of my damn birthday wishes comes true.”

  Demetri opens his mouth to answer just as Wes comes over and slings his arm across my shoulders.

  “They’ve agreed to vote tonight.”

  My heart thumps wild. The three of us spent the last month trying to convince the Videns to join the Barricade. And, now, perhaps it’ll happen. I try to block the fear I feel for these people from Demetri, but I’m sure that too is futile.

  “That means they won’t petition the Justice Alliance for their place as the sixth faction.”

  Wes looks past me at the masses. “Not if they join the Barricade.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “Th
ey’ll suffer the fate of the others. Their markers will make them prime suspects.”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  He looks to Demetri a moment as if hesitant to fill me in. Demetri gives a quiet nod allowing him to proceed.

  “Do you ever pay attention to the news, Gage?” Wes holds his face to wind, hard as flint. “Are you aware of all the mysterious lights in the sky that have been plaguing the world? Strange phenomena have brought entire cities to the brink of madness.”

  A jolt of terror pulses through my body. If I’ve never thought of Wes as sinister, as some evil genius that I’ve yet to fear, I do now.

  “Drake and Ethan keep up with that shit.”

  “I’ve got the planet under siege, and I’m about to amp up the terror.”

  “That’s the big plan? A few strange lights in the sky? Let me guess, you’ve got little green men ready to take over the planet.”

  “No, I have something better—something that lives among us, people that have abnormal super powers that are bent on destruction. I have a small army of volunteers that are about to show this planet exactly how dangerous we can be.”

  My face drains of color. My feet turn to ice. “So the world goes haywire until every last one of us is captured.”

  “Of them.” Wes gives me a swift slap on the back. “I’m glad to see you’ve pieced it together. You’re not just another pretty face after all.”

  “I want to see the body.” I’m shaking. It’s becoming impossible to keep my emotions in check.

  “No can do. The first batch is still holding strong. All one hundred of the prisoners that were administered the initial dose still exhibit clean cells. Logan was the exact donor we needed.”

  Demetri gives a slight bow to this monstrous half-brother of mine. “And when will you have enough for the masses?”

  “I’ll have five hundred thousand doses ready to administer by mid-spring. Five hundred doses will be available every two weeks after that. The others will have to lay low until they receive the elixir. We’ll have to act fast. The government is already beginning to twitch. I plan on initiating the full operation come summer.”

  Shit.