Fire Born Dragon (Rule 9 Academy Book 1)

by Elizabeth Rain

  Sirris stopped so quick I ran into her and bounced. I followed her eyes to the front counter and the small crowd gathered round a familiar figure sitting there.

  Thomas sat, trying in vain to ignore the five teens surrounding him like a pack of hyenas closing in for attack.

  The two girls were preppy. Dressed to the nines in designer skirts and jeans, manicured nails and war-paint on full display. The boys leaned in, taking turns whispering something in Thomas’ ear. They all took turns laughing at their own jokes. Only—Thomas wasn’t smiling. He must have missed the memo.

  Cowards. Cowards did that, picked on the lonely and gathered in packs to give themselves false courage. My eyes narrowed. Why didn’t he just tell them off? He was twice the size of the biggest boy. Then again, they outnumbered him five to one.

  Instead, he continued to eat his ice-cream as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Only his eyes revealed his less than casual thoughts.

  I realized all at once that Sirris had vanished from my side. I watched in horror as she marched forward, her intent obvious. A kitten marching into a den of lions. She reached them and kept going with a rude shove that had a young Barbie struggling to keep her balance as Sirris shuffled her aside, eyes flashing a gimlet aqua-marine that was alarming and beautiful all at once. Sirris took over the now empty stool next to Thomas and looked up at the oldest boy in the group, a mean curve to his lips as he glared at her.

  “What the hell, you rude little...” He never finished. I bumped him off balance from the other side. Hey, I wasn’t going to let Sirris have all the fun.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Excuse me? I didn’t see anyone important standing there. I’m joining some friends. We have important business to discuss and it doesn’t concern you.” A snide looking chick occupied the stool on the other side of Thomas, looking like she’d layered her face paint on with a shovel. She sniffed the air around Thomas with a cruel grin. “Dog, do I smell a St. Bernard?”

  I used my hip to shove her sideways. She let out an undignified screech as she lost her perch and slid onto the floor in a tangle. She flopped like a fish, struggling to find purchase on the slick floor in her too high heels and skin-tight jeans. I leaned down to offer her a hand up, which she ignored. I’d dealt with bullies much tougher than she would ever be.

  I leaned over and whispered. “If you know what’s good for you honey, you’ll quit while you can still get up. Otherwise, that acne ridden face of yours will never recover from what I will do to it.”

  Her eyes sparked. But the promise in mine had her backing up. I didn’t make threats I wasn’t willing to make good on.

  I turned to help Sirris. I didn’t have to.

  She opened her mouth, and I listened in shock as someone besides my new friend spoke. The tone of her voice had changed and rose to musical proportions.

  The others didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, but I did. They stared at her in sudden rapt fascination, hanging on every word. In the sweetest voice she suggested that they might all want to take a lengthy walk in the forest after dark down to the river for a smoke and a dip in the refreshing water.” Thomas elbowed her, interrupting, and shaking his head in disapproval.

  “Fine!” She huffed.

  “Never mind,” she continued in the same singsong voice. “Go home, and the next victim you find? I know you want to buy them a lobster dinner with all the fixings, including dessert. You are so generous you will pick up the entire bill plus a large tip.” She finished and smiled up at them like they were the best of friends.

  Without a word, the entire group turned and headed for the door. Thomas smiled and nodded with approval.

  Sirris turned with a glare in his direction and signaled the waitress.

  “Other way would have been more fun,” she insisted, snagging Thomas’ spoon. She had it halfway to her mouth, dribbling a thin line of chocolate fudge when he caught her.

  “Hey, hey!” he snapped. “Give that back. Wait for your own.”

  Sirris smiled and ordered. I gave the busy girl my order too, my eyes on Sirris.

  When she walked away, I directed my next question to Sirris. “What did I just see?”

  Thomas continued griping, ignoring us both. “Sheesh, can’t a guy eat his freaking Turtle Sunday in peace?”

  Sirris smiled and shrugged. “I guess I just don’t like mean people very much.” It didn’t answer the question. And again with the lying. What was going on?

  I met Thomas’ eyes and realized he was no longer laughing. He looked worried. I realized he hadn’t been at all surprised at what Sirris had done. He’d only worried about the results. Something was weird about these two, and dang it, I wanted to know what it was.

  He’d pulled her back. Stopped miss sweetness from suggesting actions that might have gotten the others hurt or even killed. I frowned. They wouldn’t have done it, they had free will and all that, so why was I even worried?

  Our ice-cream arrived. I took a bite and closed my eyes as the cool vanilla and caramel hit my taste buds and exploded.

  I relaxed and took another bite, forgetting what I’d heard. Thomas had finished and chatted with Sirris about the farm. I watched him reach out and rumple her waterfall of blond hair until it lay in a tangled mess and she swore at him, swiping at his hands. But she laughed.

  My eyes wandered around the parlor, and I realized that the crowds had thinned out. There were open tables now, where before there had been none.

  Sitting in the corner, all alone, was a figure I’d missed earlier. My eyes refused to move on, something about him holding my attention beyond what was polite. He was taller than me. Darker too, with straight black hair smoothed away from an angular forehead, brushing the top of his shoulders. He took his time eating a burger and fries with way more ketchup than could be healthy. His eyes glared a brilliant blue. I blinked. I’d been caught.

  Sharp and direct; his eyes rested, cold on mine as he caught me staring.

  I jerked my head away and met Sirris’ amused smile.

  “What?”

  Sirris’ smile widened as she scraped the bottom of her glass bowl for the last spoonful of chocolate fudge.

  “Who is he anyway? Talk about rude eyes.” I couldn’t resist asking.

  Thomas snorted, listening in. I was glad he’d finished his dessert. That was the last thing I wanted to see spurting from his nose.

  “Nick Seul,” he answered before Sirris could, gaining an elbow to the ribs for his efforts. Sirris continued as if he hadn’t interrupted her.

  “Nobody knows a lot about him. His daddy holds an important office in our local government, I think.” Sirris voice trailed off. I had missed something important here, and I was tiring of not knowing what it was.

  I spared another glance in his direction in time to see him flip a ten onto the table and get up to leave. He flashed a final dismissive glance in my direction before he turned with casual grace and sauntered out the door.

  I stared after for several seconds, turning back in time to catch the tail end of the conversation.

  “I’ve gotta get back. It’s my turn to bring the stock in and feed them.” Thomas fished in his pocket for money.

  “Me too, dishes are piling up. Dad will forget to do them when he’s busy down stairs, which is most of the time.” Sirris fished in her purse for money to pay for her sundae, shoving a ten spot back at Thomas when he tried to pay for hers. He frowned and pocketed the money.

  We walked back together through town, dropping Sirris at her house first and then continuing to mine on the edge of town. It wasn’t an uncomfortable walk, but it was quiet. I realized Thomas didn’t say much. Sirris had done most of the talking, and he’d seemed fine with that.

  I groaned when I noticed mom’s car. I wasn’t ready to argue about the to do list she’d left me, and I hadn’t started.

  “See you later, Sadie.” Thomas mumbled, distracted.

  “Sure. You too.” I watched Thomas head up the wide trail and again I wondered a
bout the possibility of a small quad. I realized then. I’d been to his house. The trail accommodated nothing as big as a truck, but I wondered if they had an ATV somewhere to carry supplies up and down the mountain. I didn’t know what to think. My personal list of what appeared unusual about the inhabitants of Breathless, Montana was growing.

  ON FRIDAY, I SPENT the night at Sirris and learned that she could cook. Her Salmon New Orleans was melt in your mouth delicious.

  I found out that even if his fashion sense sucked and his social skills were terrifying, Jerry Waverly had a sense of humor. His off the wall jokes had us rolling. It was obvious he adored Sirris, complementing her on her cooking and asking us both about our days.

  Still, I got the impression whatever had him distracted was in the basement. Was it the Weis she’d mentioned before?

  The third time he looked to the basement door, I couldn’t take it any longer. My curiosity had always been an uncontrollable thing.

  “Mr. Waverly, what are the Weis? And is it safe to have them in the house?” I asked. Silverware hit the table, and I immediately wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

  He looked at me in confusion, before sending Sirris and accusing look. Sirris had that, ‘oh hell, what did you ask that question for?’ expression on her face that people get when they wish you’d kept your mouth closed. You know the one your mother gets when they take you around their friends and you embarrass the snot out of them?

  “Weis?” Jerry questioned.

  In for a dollar. “Yeah. German name for whatever you have down there?” I looked at Sirris, but I wasn’t getting any help there. She looked like she was about ready to strangle on a mouthful.

  Jerry’s eyes shot a sideways glance at his daughter. “Oh... right. The Weis. Well, mean little buggers is right. A new breed of wildcat... from Brazil. Little, but vicious.”

  I nodded. Confused and well aware he was making the story up as he spoke.

  “So, if they’re from Brazil, why the German name again?”

  His eyes bugged out as he dug deeper. It was almost humorous to see what he would come up with next. “Because, I’m German. I like German names.” Jerry cleared his throat, wiped his mouth, and shoved away from the table.

  “Speaking of which, I’ve gotta get back down there. They have some uncanny night vision and they have commissioned me to run experiments to figure out how it works.” Of everything he said, his parting sentence was the only thing that smacked of truth. He avoided Sirris eyes and mumbled a polite goodnight and left.

  Why did everyone seem to think I couldn’t handle the truth? Unless it was illegal? Did they grow and run drugs or something? I dismissed that almost before the thought formed. Still, something wasn’t right. People were lying to me, people who were supposed to be my friends.

  “I’m sorry, Sadie. I know this must all seem confusing. But what dad does, he can’t talk about. Top secret stuff, you know?”

  I glared at her. “No, Sirris, I don’t know. Stop lying and making up excuses already. If you can’t tell me, you can’t tell me. But don’t lie about it.” I pushed away from the table and started gathering the dishes. I wanted to drop the entire conversation. Sirris took the hint and grabbed the milk and butter.

  After dishes, Sirris and I went up to her room. I’d been there once before, but only for a moment. This time I looked closer. Her room was pretty and feminine in lavender and aqua. Her bed was a work of art. I’d never seen a four poster bed with a full canopy in gauzy silk before. I lay on hers and stared at the inside roof of the canopy and realized she had a mural of the sea painted in vivid detail above her head where she slept every night. It tied in well with the dozen watercolor paintings that decorated her walls. They all were seascapes or inland lakes. A lot of them I didn’t recognize. But as I looked closer, at least three of them appeared to be of Deep Lake, created at fresh angles, but the same.

  “You painted these.” I stated, already knowing the answer. Somehow I didn’t even have to ask. Every wave and brush stroke reflected her joy and happiness.

  She nodded. “I did. I love to paint, kinda like you love to hunt?”

  She was good. I caught her staring at the lake. “Why so many of Deep Lake? It’s unique, I’ll give you that. But I thought Hollowtop Lake was prettier.”

  She shrugged. “Something about it calls to my soul. I just like that one.” Again, truth. But only part, she was holding something back. I sighed, wondering if I would ever know the rest.

  We climbed into pajamas. She had a TV, and we turned it to a horror flick. Add popcorn and two giggling girls, and I was sure I’d find a popcorn kernel on my butt in the morning. I wondered if she would want to talk about boys or school. Normal stuff. But instead we talked about the things we’d seen in the woods and Thomas’ farm and the animals. Sirris was my kind of friend. I thought for a fleeting second of the boy in the ice-cream parlor. I for sure didn’t want to talk about him.

  Two movies in I glanced over and realized Sirris was asleep, mouth open and snoring. I shut the TV off and joined her.

  MY EYES FLEW OPEN. I lay still for several seconds, trying to figure out what had made me wake up. A glance at Sirris and she hadn’t moved and was still sawing logs.

  I sighed. Maybe a glass of water would do the trick, because of a sudden I was wide awake. I eased Sirris legs off mine, and gave her back her arm, flung across my shoulders. Sirris liked to spread out when she slept. I eased my feet over the side of the bed and my feet touched something soft and warm. Sirris’ bunny slippers. I slipped them on, my heels hanging off the backs. Damn her, she even had little feet. I went to the door and edged it open, trying to be quiet so I didn’t wake her.

  The stairs were silent beneath my slippers as I went down them and into the kitchen, snagging a glass from the drain board and turning on the water.

  I was standing at the counter, glass in my hand and my back against the sink, when the light under the basement door came on and a few seconds later I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. The door opened and Jerry came into the dining room. He was cradling his arm, a hand cupped over his wrist and his face rimmed with a grimace of pain. He didn’t see me at first in the darkened kitchen. He was missing his glasses, and his hair was sticking up in all directions. I didn’t want to startle him, so I cleared my throat.

  He jerked around just the same and stared at me, looking frightened. My eyes drifted to his hand and the thin line of blood that showed beneath it.

  “Did you cut yourself?” I asked, not believing it. He looked confused until he remembered.

  He shrugged, nodding. “Yeah, something like that. I just came up to wash it off and put a band-aide on it. It’s fine, though. Why are you up so late/early, anyhow?”

  I held up my water and took a long drink.

  “Well, okay, that’s fine. I’m just going to get a band-aide for this. You have a good rest of your night and get some sleep.” Jerry nodded and turned towards the bathroom.

  I watched as he started down the hall and then turned back. He glanced my way, reached back, and shut the basement door.

  I sat my empty glass on the counter and stared at that door long after he was gone. That had been a nasty cut to get in a lab with a bunch of microscopes and slides. He’d be lucky if he didn’t need stitches.

  Just what are you experimenting on to cause that much damage, Mr. Waverly?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When Thomas had mentioned that he had five brother’s and sister’s I had paid little attention.

  We sat down to dinner with all nine of them at the enormous plank table that barely fit in the dining room. Sirris and Jerry came too, and Thomas’ dad, Major Tuttle, had a space at the head of the table..

  Thomas’ oldest brother’s, Terry and Todd, never shut up as they rolled into the room, punching and wrestling themselves into their seats. It was good-natured, but still. Thomas had three sisters. Karen and Krissy sat beside each other, one as different from the other as night and day. Krissy was prim an
d proper, with her makeup perfect and wearing a simple but stylish dress, totally out of place in the cabin. Her sister Karen was quiet and dressed in unrelieved black and brown, almost as if she wanted to fade into the background. Both seemed nice enough, but it was Kimmy that held my attention. Her gigantic smile lit the room and the mischievous twinkle there promised plenty of devilment. She was the unchallenged comedian of the family, and I couldn’t help but like her. Her quick wit ran circles around her brothers, who struggled to keep up.

  I took a deep whiff. Kimmy was cooking tonight night, and she sat the largest platter of pot roast and vegetables in the center of the table I’d ever seen. To that she added several loafs of yeasty bread and fresh churned butter fresh from the farm. I tried not to drool because it smelled like heaven. Nobody reached for the spoon. Instead, they all looked towards the hall bathroom.

  Major Tuttle entered the room seconds later, and the volume decreased by half as he looked around at a table full of teenagers and shook his head. He was a sizeable man, head and shoulders yet above any of his sons. He didn’t smile much, but his eyes seemed friendly enough as he took his seat. I didn’t know much about the circumstances of Thomas’ mother’s death. He’d shared that she died when he was ten, and I’d known from the shuttered look in his eyes it was a subject that wouldn’t be brought back up.

  The Major sat, and all eyes turned in his direction. He acknowledged us all with a tilt of his head, directing kind eyes at Kimmy for her efforts in putting on the meal. I wondered if he might have a soft spot for his youngest.

  “It looks wonderful as usual, daughter.” He acknowledged.

  “Thanks, Daddy. Dessert in the kitchen, too. Pineapple upside down cake and ice cream?”

  He patted his barrel chest. “You’re killing me Kimmy.”

  “You’ll live daddy.”

  He held out his hands and Thomas on his left and Karen on his right took them and the rest of us followed suit to form a large circle. He said a simple Grace in his deep baritone.