Smoke (The Slayer Chronicles Book 1)

by Val St. Crowe

  I found the town itself rather strange. It seemed to be situated in the middle of nowhere, and yet it had a huge hotel and fine dining restaurant. Was Highpoint really a destination town?

  We pulled up in the rental car and found a parking spot right near the door.

  The parking lot was empty.

  “Looks like we’ll have the place to ourselves,” Naelen quipped.

  “Or maybe it’ll be closed,” I said.

  “Kill joy,” he said. He got out of the car and headed for the door.

  I got out too. “Well, I suppose it’s heartening to know that you can drive, even though you choose not to back in Sea City.”

  He looked over his shoulder at me. “No reason to put Michael out of a job, is there? And besides, it’s handy to have a driver when I need to work on my laptop while driving. Or if I have a few drinks.”

  I caught up to him. “So, you’re just giving him a job out of the goodness of your heart?”

  “Well, he is useful,” said Naelen. “But honestly, I have enough money to employ people, and we are in a recession, so why not?”

  I squared my shoulders. “I thought the recession was over.” Internally, I was worried that my clothes, which were just jeans and a t-shirt, were not going to be nice enough for this restaurant. Naelen had dressed down, but he was still looking less casual than I was.

  I usually didn’t worry much about my clothes. Slayers didn’t need a special wardrobe.

  I mean, okay, sure, I was as interested in looking appealing as any girl out there, but I just didn’t have the time or energy to make it a top priority either. I tried to look good without spending a lot of time on looking good.

  Naelen shrugged. “Well, anyway, people are always going to want jobs.” He pushed open the door to the restaurant, holding it open for me.

  Great. Now, I had to walk in first in my grungy clothes. I put my head down and barreled through the door like I was a bull. Maybe I’d be so intimidating, no one would even think to question me.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” said a voice.

  I looked up. “Excuse me?”

  “Excuse me?” said Naelen, who was coming in the door behind me.

  There was a thin man in a gray suit coming through the restaurant towards us. “We’re all booked up for the evening. I’m afraid we have no room.”

  “Booked up?” said Naelen, shouldering past me to head off the man. “There’s no one here.”

  “Not yet,” said the man, stopping in front of Naelen. “But we have reservations.”

  Naelen peered around the restaurant. In the room we could see, there were at least twelve tables, most able to seat four. They were covered in snowy tablecloths with pristinely folded napkins at each place setting. Every single one was empty. And there was another room through the doorway to the left. “There are only two of us. Surely you can squeeze us in someplace.”

  “I’m sorry. We really are completely booked,” said the man in the gray suit. “The entire restaurant has been bought out.”

  “Well, I’m sure whoever made the reservation wouldn’t mind if we were tucked in a corner someplace. We’ll be very quiet.”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” The man was starting to look a bit perturbed. “I really am sorry, sir.”

  Naelen put his hands in his pockets, knitting his brow. He was thinking.

  “Naelen, let’s go somewhere else,” I said.

  “Don’t be silly,” he said. “We’d like to eat here. There’s got to be a way to make that happen.” He smiled brightly at the man. “Perhaps if I was willing to pay a little extra? I could give you another two hundred dollars just to seat us.”

  “Really, sir, the entire restaurant has been—”

  “Five hundred.”

  “I’m afraid that—”

  “One thousand,” said Naelen. “And a cash bonus for you. A tip. Name your amount.”

  The man swallowed. “I really wish that I could accommodate you, but in this case it isn’t possible.”

  “Naelen,” I said. “What’s the deal? Let’s leave.”

  He just shook his head. Man, he really didn’t like being told no, did he? Naelen Spencer was very used to getting his way. And if he didn’t, he threw money at it. This was much the way he’d convinced me to work for him, wasn’t it?

  “Please, sir,” said the man. “You must understand, if anyone else had booked the restaurant besides Mr. Cunningham, I might consider, but in this case, I really can’t.”

  “Who’s Mr. Cunningham?” said Naelen.

  At that moment, a limousine pulled into the parking lot. We all turned to look at it through the glass door of the restaurant.

  The limo pulled right up to the door. The driver got out and walked around to the back. He opened the door. A woman got out. She was wearing a green silk dress and very high heels. She was quite pretty, but there was something… off about her. Something in her eyes. She looked as if she wasn’t focusing on anything. As if she was simply staring through the objects in front of her.

  Another woman got out behind the first one. She was also wearing a fancy dress, but more importantly, she had the same vacant look in her eyes.

  Two more women got out, also nicely dressed, also staring vaguely into space.

  And then, behind them, a man got out of the limo. He was tall with dark hair that had been styled with product into a spiky sort of disheveled look. He had a five o’clock shadow on his chin and cheeks—a bit of artful stubble, like a movie star. He was wearing a pinstriped suit with a light blue shirt and flashy red tie. He walked between the women with a jaunty sort of step. The women fell in behind him, wordlessly.

  The man in the gray suit hustled around us to open the door for the man. “Mr. Cunningham,” he said.

  “Hello, there,” said Mr. Cunningham. He was smiling. And then his gaze settled on us. His smile faded. “Who are they?”

  “No one, sir,” said the man in the gray suit. “They were just leaving.”

  “We most certainly were not,” said Naelen, approaching Mr. Cunningham. “Look, is there anyone else in your party?”

  Mr. Cunningham regarded Naelen coldly. “I don’t see how that is any of your concern.”

  “It’s only that I don’t see why there’s not enough room in the restaurant for all of us,” said Naelen. “Surely you wouldn’t begrudge us a small table in another room.”

  Mr. Cunningham stepped closer to Naelen, gazing deeply into the other man’s eyes. His voice was mild. “You and your companion are leaving this restaurant now.”

  Naelen’s eyes glazed over. “Yes. Leaving,” he repeated in a dazed voice.

  Mr. Cunningham stepped out of the way.

  Naelen began walking toward the door with halting steps, moving stiffly, like a toy soldier. I followed him. Oh, hell. This was bad. This was really, really bad.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Naelen was now sitting with his back to the wall in a booth at Sadie’s diner, right in downtown Highpoint. He looked a little pale. “What the hell just happened? I didn’t want to leave that restaurant. I’m sure if I’d had just a little more time to convince him—”

  “He compelled you,” I said.

  “He what?” said Naelen.

  “Surely you’ve heard of compulsion,” I said. “It’s one of your magical powers as a dragon. You can breathe fire, move objects with your mind, and compel people to do your bidding.”

  “Well,” he said, “only if I’ve shifted recently. The magic wears off about two weeks after a shift.”

  “Huh,” I said. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Anyway, that’s impossible,” said Naelen. “I can’t be compelled. Only people with no magic can be compelled. Even a small talisman around a human’s neck protects them from it.”

  “I’ve seen it before,” I said. “He compelled you.”

  “But how?” said Naelen.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “He must be insanely powerful.”

  “You think he’s a
dragon too?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But those women with him, they were compelled too.”

  “You sure? They did seem a little… off.”

  “They had that look about them. All glassy-eyed and out of it.”

  “I did notice that. Did I look like that after he told me to leave?”

  “Yup.” I nodded.

  We stopped talking about it because a waitress came over to our table. She had long wavy hair in a ponytail, and she was wearing a classic diner waitress uniform—light blue with an apron. “Hi there, folks. I’m Melly. I’ll be your server today. Can I interest you in the specials?”

  Naelen picked up his menu. Neither of us had looked at them yet. “Uh, sure, what are the specials?”

  “Well, I’ve got a meatloaf—very tender, very tasty—comes with green beans and mashed potatoes, or you can sub fries. And then we’ve got an open-faced roast beef sandwich, again with the green beans and mashed potatoes or fries if you want them.”

  “Huh,” said Naelen.

  “Think I could start you off with some drinks?” said Melly.

  “I don’t suppose you serve alcohol here,” said Naelen.

  “I’ll just have a Coke,” I broke in.

  “Pepsi okay?”

  “Sure,” I said. “And I think I’ll try that roast beef sandwich with fries. Make sure you cover everything with gravy.”

  Melly grinned. “You got it.”

  Naelen glared at me. “I need a moment with the menu.”

  “Oh, that’s fine,” said Melly.

  Then he folded it up and handed it to her. “Oh, what the hell. Give me a roast beef sandwich too. But I want the mashed potatoes.”

  “And to drink?”

  “Uh… Pepsi.”

  “Sure thing,” said Melly, taking up our menus. “You folks work with the conservation center?”

  “What?” I said.

  “Oh, I guess not,” she said. “We don’t get a lot of outsiders in town, though, unless they’re visiting the Wildlife Conservation Center outside of town.”

  “What is that?” said Naelen.

  “It’s government run,” she said. “It’s the reason we got that big hotel built up on the mountain.”

  “Huh,” I said. I guessed that answered my question as to what the hotel was doing here. “But what are you conserving?”

  “Wildlife,” she said, as if I was an idiot.

  I furrowed my brow, confused.

  “Like a wildlife sanctuary?” said Naelen.

  “Sort of,” said Melly. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.” She scurried off.

  “Well, that sounds kind of weird,” said Naelen.

  “This whole place is weird,” I said.

  Melly came right back with our drinks and set them down in front of us.

  “Melly?” I said.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you happen to know anything about Mr. Cunningham?”

  Melly straightened up quickly, her features freezing. “Sorry, I better be getting back to the kitchen. They’re awfully short-staffed back there. Need the extra help.” She turned and fled.

  I sucked Pepsi through my straw. “Well, that’s weird too.”

  “Definitely,” said Naelen.

  * * *

  After dinner, we went back to the Pine Winds Lodge. There was a bar off the lobby, and after the evening we’d had, we both wanted a drink. I was feeling so confused and wiped out that I didn’t even argue when he said he was buying. I just let him.

  I got a Corona with lime, which they brought to me with a frosty mug, and Naelen got a whiskey sour. We sat at the bar and nursed our drinks for a bit. I wasn’t sure what I thought about drinking Corona out of a glass. Somehow, it didn’t taste quite the same.

  I showed the bartender a picture of Reign, but he seemed to genuinely have never seen her before. Maybe whatever Reign had done in this town hadn’t taken her to the Pine Winds Lodge.

  Naelen finished his drink quickly and ordered another round, even though I protested. I was only halfway done with my beer. Out came another bottle and another frosty glass, however. So, I felt pressured to put it away. I finished my first beer quickly and poured the next one out into the glass. I took a long gulp.

  I was already starting to feel the effects of the beer. I wasn’t exactly a lightweight, but it didn’t take a lot to give me a buzz. I knew my limits and tried to stick to them.

  But that was tough when there was a billionaire dragon buying me drinks.

  “We should do shots,” he said.

  “What?” I said. Was he some kind of insane frat boy? “We’ve got stuff to do tomorrow. We can’t be waffling around hungover all day.”

  “Oh,” he said. “I forgot you can’t simply shift and knock out your hangover.” Whenever dragons shifted, they healed any wounds or sickness that they might have. When they shifted back to human form, they were good as new.

  “Well, I can’t,” I said.

  “Maybe just one shot, then,” he said.

  I shook my head.

  “Come on,” he said. “I’m going to buy some. Once it’s in front of you, you’ll drink it.”

  He was right. He got this delicious shot for me called a Chocolate Cake, which was made of clear liquors but somehow managed to take just like chocolate. Afterward, I felt much, much drunker. I was heading out of buzzed territory into inebriated.

  Naelen didn’t seem the least bit affected, however. He gleefully ordered himself another shot.

  “No more for me,” I said.

  “Okay,” he said. “Kill joy.”

  “Do you usually drink this much?” I said.

  He shrugged. “Is it a lot?”

  “It seems out of character for you,” I blurted out. “You’re so… proper.”

  He laughed. “Proper?”

  “Prim and proper,” I confirmed, drinking more Corona.

  “Well, maybe that’s why I do it, then,” he said. “I need an outlet. Need to let loose sometimes. I work very hard, and there’s a lot of pressure on me. So, I guess I indulge myself a bit.”

  “A bit?” I said.

  He laughed again.

  I sat back in my chair. “I can’t drink anymore.”

  The bartender put another shot in front of Naelen. He downed it. “You don’t like to drink?”

  “Not really. What if a rogue shows up while I’m out of it? Then I’m dead, and so are a bunch of other people.”

  He considered. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “Of course it does.”

  “What made you want to be a dragon slayer?”

  I reached for my beer, even though I’d just said I didn’t want any more to drink. “It’s not so much that I wanted to do it. It’s just that I felt it needed to be done.”

  “How do you mean?”

  For some strange reason, I felt like telling him. It was probably because I’d been drinking. The alcohol was loosening my tongue. Typically, I didn’t talk about this. “Well, my sister and I were both really young when our family was out hiking together. We did it a lot. Hiking. Typical family activity. Gina and I would always get ahead of them. We’d run up the path as quick as we could, and my mom would yell after us to slow down, and then that day, she stopped yelling. She started screaming. We ran back down the path, back towards our parents. And that was when we saw the dragon.”

  “Oh, God,” said Naelen.

  I took another drink of beer. “My father was already dead. He was bleeding and burning and lying there, and he was gone. I guess he’d thrown himself in front of my mother, trying to protect her. My mom was yelling at us girls to run, to get away, but we didn’t. We wanted to help her. But then the dragon swooped down on her and… Well, anyway, after that we did run. And I thought to myself that I really wished I’d been able to stop that thing.”

  “Geez, Clarke, I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head.

  “It was a rogue. I know that now. You can always tell by the black,
empty eyes they have. Shifter eyes look different. There’s something inside a shifter. Something intelligent. But the rogues are just monsters. Anyway, when I got big enough and strong enough, I figured out what I needed to do to become a dragon slayer. I learned how to shoot a bow and arrows. I tracked down other rogue dragons. I didn’t want another little girl to have to watch her mother die.”

  Naelen wouldn’t look at me. He rubbed his chin. “That’s horrible.”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “You asked.”

  He glanced up at me. “I should have known there was a reason like that. I should have realized it would have taken something traumatic to make you what you are.”

  “What do you mean by that? What am I?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Strong and fearless and determined, I guess.”

  I drank more beer, even though I was feeling far drunker than I should.

  “I think I even admire that mouth on you,” he said, chuckling. Then he got serious again. “But it’s terrible what happened to your parents. What happened to you and your sister after that? Did you go to live with grandparents or aunts and uncles?”

  “For while, we lived with our grandma,” I said. “But she, um, she was older, and eventually, she really couldn’t take care of us. She developed dementia, and she didn’t know who we were, and she’d get angry at us, want to know why we were in her house. She’d chase us out and lock all the doors. Finally, child services came and took us away.”

  He grimaced. “Why am I afraid that things didn’t get better?”

  I sighed. “You know what? Enough with my sob story. I’m fine now. I grew up okay. Everything’s all right. Let’s just drop it.”

  “I respect that you want to keep doing what you do,” he said. “Killing rogues. Protecting people. But I wonder if you might consider helping me once I discover this cure.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, God, Naelen, there is no cure.”

  “There is,” he said.

  “We don’t even know if Reign is a rogue anymore. It’s looking less and less likely.”

  “Well, maybe that doesn’t matter. Maybe someone should be searching for a cure anyway. And if I find one, maybe then I could hire you to help me track and capture rogues and cure them.”