Sleeping Dragons

by Phoebe Ravencraft

  But that was tomorrow’s problem. For tonight, I just had to get the hell upstairs.

  Even with Ash around, I didn’t feel safe.

  Twenty-five

  T hat night, I dreamed of my father. I was wandering through this thick jungle. It was dark, and all around me I could hear noises – growling, screeching, hissing.

  A giant python lowered itself from the trees, like Kaa in The Jungle Book. It stared into my eyes and flicked its tongue at me.

  “If you start singing ‘Trust in Me’, I will tie you into knots,” I said.

  Apparently, I’m as sassy in my dreams as in real life.

  But the snake didn’t sing. He hissed at me and said in this low whisper, “You will die.”

  If I’d been awake and this sort of thing had happened in real life, I’d probably have offered a sarcastic retort like, “No shit, asshole. Everyone does.”

  But this was a dream, and that snake talking to me, threatening me, scared the hell out of me. The jungle trees seemed to close in on me. The branches were reaching out for me, like they were arms that could hold me fast. For the first time in my life, I understood what claustrophobia was. I thought I was going to scream.

  Then, there was this light ahead of me. And a voice said, “This way.” The python was gone, and I was more than happy to get the hell out of there. I plunged forward away from the creepy trees and towards the light.

  I came to a clearing and standing there was my father. Eli Silverman was wearing an immaculate suit. It was grey with subtle, blue pinstripes. He had a shiny, blue tie that matched the stripes of the suit and black wingtips that had been polished so finely they reflected the sunlight until they glowed. He smiled at me – perfectly cut red hair, freckles like mine, sparkling green eyes, and fair skin. This guy looked nothing like me and exactly like me at the same time. It was both weird and comforting.

  “That’s it, Cecily,” he said. “This way.”

  With a sweep of his arm, he indicated I should move into the clearing. Behind him was an enormous Incan pyramid. Or Aztec. I can never keep those two straight. Public schools in Cincinnati didn’t teach much about pre-Colonial Central American history.

  Eli wanted me to climb the steps of the edifice. I was afraid, but he smiled at me like it would be fine. And because it was a dream, I went forward. In real life, I would have asked a shitload of questions first.

  I ascended the stairs carefully, my hands shaking, a knot in my stomach tightening with each step. Tremendous heat poured off the top of the pyramid and raced towards me like lava down the sides of a volcano. Sweat ran down my skin. Dear God, it was so hot!

  At last, I made it to the top. In the center of the pyramid, a fire blazed – the source of the unnatural heat I’d been feeling. Stuck in the center was a sword, standing with the handle up and the tip of the blade buried in the coals.

  “Take it,” my father said.

  He stood to the side of the flames with no explanation for how he’d gotten there. Had he climbed the pyramid with me? Had he teleported? I had no idea, but it was a dream, so it seemed perfectly normal.

  Reaching into that inferno to draw out the sword within it made no sense, though. Even Dream Sassy knew that fire burns. If the flames didn’t ignite my skin, the metal of the sword would sear it when I took hold. Speaking of which, why wasn’t the sword melting in that heat? If it were blazing so intensely that it made me fearful on the way up, surely it was so hot that the metal couldn’t hold its shape.

  Eli just smiled at me, as if my unasked question held all the answers I needed. He swept his arm towards the sword, indicating I should reach in and take it.

  Again, I can only figure this made sense because it was a dream. In real life, there is no way I would stick my bare hand into a red-hot fire to pluck out a sword. But Dream Sassy reached for the weapon despite the danger.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, anticipating my arm igniting and me burning to death. But there was no pain. I perceived the sensation of heat, but it was like going outside in midafternoon in August. My skin prickled with the warmth, but it didn’t burn.

  A moment later, my hand closed around the sword handle. Once again, it was warm but not searing. I opened my eyes and discovered I was standing fully in the fire. But neither my skin, nor my hair, nor my clothes burned. I stood there with my hand on the sword, defying nature and feeling . . . great.

  Suddenly, I was energized. Positive emotions – joy, excitement, anticipation, contentment – surged through me. This was the best feeling ever!

  Not quite knowing why, I pulled the sword out of the coals like Arthur yanking Excalibur from the stone. The flames extinguished, and I held the weapon aloft like some sort of Greek god.

  Light bathed me like a gentle shower. Glory streamed from every pore on my body. I could hear cheering, worship.

  And Eli stood one step below me and smiled, pride locked onto his visage like a mask that could not be removed.

  Tears formed in my eyes. My daddy was proud of me! He was actually proud!

  War drums boomed in the distance, drawing my attention.

  Someone was banging on my door. I woke up with a hell of a headache, wondering what the hell was going on.

  “Do you want me to get that?” Ash asked.

  For a moment, I panicked. What the hell was he doing here?

  But then I remembered I’d asked him to stay the night after the assassination attempt. As I’d expected I would, I felt really stupid about that.

  “Sassy?” he prompted as another knock assaulted my headache.

  “No,” I said. “I’ve got it.”

  I rolled out of bed and staggered into the front room on my way to the door.

  “Uh, Sassy?” Ash said.

  “What!” I barked, rounding on him.

  “You, uh, might want to put on some pants.”

  I looked down. Thank God I was wearing panties. If I’d flashed Ash my va-ja-jay, I think I’d have died of embarrassment right there. As it was, I wanted to die. Jesus, how had this happened?

  Someone hammered at the door again.

  “Just a damn minute!” I shouted over my shoulder.

  I raced back into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of leggings. Then I went back to the door, unlocked it, and threw it open, prepared to blast whoever it was.

  Cops stood in the doorway – the same two cops who’d questioned me about Eli’s death.

  “Good morning, Ms. Kincaide,” the man said. What was his name?

  “I’m sure you remember Detective Weiss and I,” he continued.

  “Yeah, sure,” I muttered.

  What the hell were they doing here? All my cop fears surged through my heart and brought me fully awake.

  “We’d like to ask you some questions,” he said. “Do you mind if we come in?”

  “Is this about that guy who was killed?” I asked.

  “No, Ms. Kincaide,” Weiss said. “It’s a different matter.”

  I heard a door open down the hall. Heads poked out. Shit. I did not want the cops in my apartment. I also did not want my neighbors listening in on whatever this was about.

  “Sure,” I said. “Come on in.”

  I stood aside, and they shuffled in past me. I shut the door behind them. Fuck you, busybodies.

  “Who’s this?” the man said.

  “Ashrael Shinoch,” Ash said. “And you are?”

  “I’m Detective Wallis,” the guy said. “This is Detective Weiss. Are you a friend of Ms. Kincaide’s?”

  “That’s none of your damn business,” I said before Ash could make things worse. “What’s this about?”

  “We got a number of strange calls last night,” Wallis said. “It took us a little while to piece things together. But once we realized they all originated from the same building you lived in, Ms. Kincaide, we thought maybe we should have a little talk.”

  “What kinds of calls?” Ash said.

  Damn, I wished he would shut up. He needed to close his mouth and
let me handle this.

  “Several people called to say there was a woman fighting a giant dog outside,” Weiss said. “They said she was wielding a samurai sword.”

  My heart skipped about three beats. People had seen that shit? And they’d called the cops? What the hell was the matter with them? Why weren’t they minding their own business?

  “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Weiss asked.

  “Nope,” I said. “I got home late. What time did you say this was?”

  “The first call came in at . . .” Wallis drew out his notebook and consulted it. “Six twenty-three.”

  “Yeah, that was definitely before I got home,” I said.

  “That’s interesting,” Wallis commented. “Because several of the witnesses described a woman who looks like you – short, athletic, long, black, curly hair.”

  “Hey, man, do you know how many women in this neighborhood fit that description?” I said.

  “Oh, a lot, I’m sure,” Wallis said. “But I doubt many of them have Japanese swords.”

  “And what makes you think I’m the one who does?”

  “I don’t know,” Wallis said. “Maybe that samurai sword leaning against the wall right over there.”

  He pointed to my katana. Shit. I knew I shouldn’t have invited them in!

  “That doesn’t prove a damn thing,” I said.

  “And even if it did,” Ash added, “you said these witnesses claimed she was fighting a dog. Maybe she was defending herself. What kind of a dog did you say it was?”

  “We didn’t get a good description,” Weiss said. “Most people just said it was big. One thought it might be a pit bull. But they all said it was big, almost as big as the woman.”

  “Aha,” Ash said. “So, if a woman with a katana was, in fact, fighting a giant dog, it surely would have been self-defense.”

  Weiss nodded thoughtfully. Wallis continued to look skeptical.

  “That’s not all,” he said.

  “What else?” I asked.

  “Several people claimed this woman was struck by lightning,” he said.

  “By lightning?” I said. “Well then it couldn’t be me. I’d be dead or in the hospital.”

  “I’m sure,” Wallis said. “That’s why we’ve been discounting that. There was probably some other phenomenon that made people think that.

  “But there is one other thing. Multiple witnesses claimed to have heard gunshots. Most people thought maybe the woman shot the dog. But there were two accounts that said she shot a man.”

  “Damn, Detective,” I said. “You’ve got a whole lot of things in that report that don’t make a bit of sense.”

  “Listen,” he said. “Every call we got last night told some outlandish story about giant dogs, lightning bolts, fire, and murder. But there is one thing that every story had in common – a woman with a samurai sword. They all say she fought like some sort of mythical warrior, that she killed the dog and maybe its master.

  “Now, you fit the description of the woman in question, and you have a Japanese sword. I don’t know what happened last night, but I’m betting you do.”

  “We’re just trying to help you, Ms. Kincaide,” Weiss added. “If someone is trying to hurt you, we want to know about it, so we can protect you.”

  “Like you protected that guy who was murdered?” I said. “You ever catch the guy who did it? I don’t remember seeing it on the news.”

  Wallis and Weiss exchanged a look. I knew before I asked the question what the answer was. The demon who had done it died during the second attempt on my life. I didn’t need their awkward silence to tell me what I already knew. But their clumsy exchange made it obvious.

  “Not yet,” Wallis admitted. “But we will.

  “And remember, Ms. Kincaide, we questioned you about that because the victim had your name and address in his pocket. Has it occurred to you that maybe whoever murdered him is after you too?”

  Hell, yes, it had occurred to me. That thought had planted itself firmly in my brain well before I knew what The Order was or what this was about.

  “Ms. Kincaide,” Weiss said. “Let us help you.”

  Her face was sincere. She probably believed her own words. But I knew better than to rely on a cop for “help.”

  “Listen,” Ash said. “This is crazy. You come in here with wild stories about what happened last night and no proof of anything. A lightning bolt struck her? She shot somebody? Is there a body?”

  “No,” Wallis said.

  “Then I don’t understand why you think Sassy has anything to do with this,” Ash said. “I was with her all night. I can tell you there were no dogs, no fires, and no one got shot. I don’t know why people called the police, but it wasn’t about us.”

  “And what exactly were you doing with her last night?” Wallis asked.

  “That’s none of your business, Detective,” I said. “But it was fun.”

  I put a smirk on my face to sell the story. Both cops understood immediately. Ash turned his usual shade of red. It was just as cute as always, maybe more so, since we were supposed to be lying to get the cops out of my apartment.

  “Listen, Mr. – What did you say your name was?” Wallis asked.

  “Shinoch,” Ash replied.

  “Right,” Wallis said. “Listen, Mr. Shinoch, you vouching for Ms. Kincaide doesn’t really help. We don’t know anything about you, you clearly have a, uh, personal relationship with Ms. Kincaide, and none of the reports we received last night mentioned a man with the woman.”

  “Well, there you go, Detective,” I said. “Ash was with me the whole time last night. We met at Java Jive, walked back to my apartment, and spent the night. If these reports only mentioned a woman, it couldn’t be me.”

  I’d learned some time ago that the best way to lie was to tell the truth while omitting the part you didn’t want people to know. Nearly everything I’d told Wallis was true. I just lied about the whole fighting a Hellhound and killing two assassins.

  “Look,” Wallis began, but to my surprise, Weiss cut him off.

  “Forget it, Wallis,” she said. “These two claim they had nothing to do with it. Quit hassling them.”

  Wallis’s eyes popped open wide. He stared at his partner with incredulity.

  “What’s the matter with you?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said.

  But I noticed her eyes flicked over to Ash momentarily. Holy shit. His pheromones were working on her! Sex-demon to the rescue!

  “Damn it, Weiss, she’s got a sword that matches the description right over there!”

  “She’s also got an alibi for her whereabouts,” Weiss countered. “And come on, man. Giant, fiery dogs? A woman gets struck by lightning, gets up, and shoots a guy to death? I don’t know what the hell happened here last night, but you know people are spinning some bullshit.

  “These kids say they don’t know a thing about it. They were home having fun. We knew this was insane when we came out here. Let it go.”

  Wallis’s face flushed red with anger. I stood there looking innocent.

  “If you guys don’t mind,” I said, “we really need to get some more sleep. We were up pretty late last night.”

  Weiss grinned broadly. Wallis grunted in anger.

  “Fine,” he said. “You’ve got my card. Call me if you suddenly remember what actually happened last night. In the meantime, think about the fact that someone with your name and address in his pocket was murdered. There’s a strong possibility they’re after you too, Kincaide. I’d think about cooperating before it’s too late for us to protect you.”

  He turned on his heel and practically stormed out of the apartment. Weiss gave me another wry grin and a wink. I smiled demurely. Then she turned to go.

  She practically ran into Felicia, who showed up with two coffees. Weiss shook her head.

  “So much for sleep,” Weiss said with laugh.

  She disappeared out the door as Felicia stared after her for
a few seconds. Then she came in and kicked the door shut.

  “What was that about?” she asked.

  A second later, she saw Ash.

  Twenty-six

  F elicia’s mouth fell open. She tried to say something for several seconds, but nothing would come. Then, hot fury replaced the look of shock on her face. Shit.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” she finally managed.

  “It’s not what you think,” Ash said.

  I could have smacked him. Even though what he said was true, that was exactly the phrase that told a woman it was exactly what she thought.

  “Felicia—” I began, but she didn’t let me finish.

  “You fucked him?” she practically shouted.

  “No!” Ash and I said in unison.

  I could tell she didn’t believe us. Her brown eyes blazed with betrayal.

  “Don’t lie to me!” she shouted.

  “Felicia, I’m not lying,” I protested. “I swear, I did not sleep with him.”

  “It’s true,” Ash added. “She didn’t.”

  “Shut up,” Felicia and I both said.

  “Ash, will you please let me handle this?” I said.

  “Oh, you need to ‘handle me,’ do you?” Felicia said.

  “Felicia!”

  I was rapidly running out of patience. This jealous-girl bullshit was the last thing I needed right now. Even if I had slept with Ash, it wasn’t a betrayal. We were not a thing, no matter how much she wanted us to be, no matter how much I liked her. And I had more important shit to worry about at the moment.

  “Please,” I said. “Shut up for a minute and listen to me.”

  Tears started forming in her eyes. God damn it. That was so not fair.

  “I did not have sex with Ash last night,” I continued. “I didn’t even kiss him.”

  “Then what is he doing here, Sassy? His hair is mussed, he’s got sheet marks on his face. His clothes are wrinkled. He was here all night.”

  I looked at Ash. Damn, he did have sheet marks. Or couch marks, actually, but still. I’d have laughed at him if I wasn’t trying to put out a fire here.