Minerva walked to her door and opened it wide. “No, that’s the last thing you could ever do. Not now.”
33
Topher
“Fucking bitches!”
Topher’s phone went crashing into the wall and dropped to the floor with a large, splintering crack down the screen. He ran his hands through his hair and breathed in and out slowly.
First, Annette and Desmond’s operation had been compromised, losing them seven eggs, if not more including ones their stupid buyers had ruined. Then, that huge mess at the pier, and now one of their guards was in the hospital, saying a fucking dragon had carried the other off. Nathan McConnell was probably a corpse by now. It was like they’d stirred a nest of bees, and now the inhabitants were all coming out stinging mad. Only these “bees” were the size of a tank and could breathe fire.
He dropped onto the sofa in his study and breathed heavily. He’d been counting on Josh and Nate to help guard Clay during the auction. With things heating up, the last thing he needed was for Clay to have some kind of episode, and he was so erratic lately that Topher didn’t want him present at the auction. What might he say, or do? With that many eggs around…?
It was cruel, but he had to keep his brother under control until they’d lured in a good enough contractor to set up their national defenses. The weapons this magic could make for them would change everything. Absolutely everything. There just wasn’t enough from selling off a few extra eggs to some stupid rich yuppies.
Tapping his fingers on the end table, Topher wrinkled his brow in concentration. He had work to do. He couldn’t get caught up in petty details now. This magical defense system was not only going to bring them millions, it would protect the country better than any other, and he suspected the voters would be grateful come election time. He had his sights on higher things, now.
He could imagine their defenses set in the White House. With what he was going to do for their country, he would be far more qualified than the idiots currently running the government.
“Eye on the prize, Christopher.” He took another deep breath, steadied himself, and called in an intern.
Topher needed to replace his phone, have Williamson bring in a few more guards, and make sure all of the precautions for the auction were in place. They’d only get one chance at this one, and he’d already moved the auction up to keep dragons and their human familiars from coming in to wreck things. By now, they might have enough information to really cause some damage, and he would have to be prepared.
34
Saffyranae
Saff had often wondered if humans didn’t have a kind of magic of their own. Before the Searchers had gone out to find the stolen eggs, their Diviners had done their best to narrow down where the eggs might be located. This had, of course, taken a lot of focus, and they had still only been able to give generalities, since the magic of the eggs could be confused with other ambient magics lingering in the air.
Minerva’s friend “Eddie,” who may have been a wizard, had tracked the location of the auction within a few minutes. Minerva herself had gotten so much out of the phone she’d stolen from her captors. And then of course…
Minerva was more able to sense the eggs and young dragons than some of her own. It had been a surprise to Saff that none of the other Searchers had come running the moment the child had cried for help, but as she’d found out, none had been able to sense exactly where it was. It was possible that they’d been too distracted with their current task of quelling the plague… Regardless, Minerva had consistently shown herself to be more capable than one could expect of a human.
That made things complicated because Saff dearly wished to remove the hurt she’d caused. She could not, however. As always, her powers were limited.
Calling the others was no difficulty. Transporting that number at once would be a challenge, of course, and then they would have to find their own ways back home, since one could not bend the fabrics of space and time to that degree so frequently without consequence.
The Council had met quickly and sent as many free dragons as was possible. These would not be shamans, for the most part, but warriors. Some, like Nehemaiah, would be both. Saff was not looking forward to seeing him again. However, most of the free shamans were occupied with the plague, and the older shamans, those with permanent positions, would never leave their posts. It was part of their calling, after all, to help keep the planet from falling to ruin, and once posted, it was extremely rare to leave. For this reason, the dragons simply did not have shamans to spare for “paranormal capers.”
This tragedy was to be done with, and ended, and Saff would return as was her duty to finish her training.
There were nearly twenty of them. An admirable force. Saff watched as a large van came to a crawl on the side of the road where she and Minerva had parked.
“Here comes the cavalry,” Minerva drawled.
“The word cavalry is more related to horses.”
“Winged horses. That breathe fire and ice.”
Saff shrugged, not looking at her friend, as she would always think of Minerva, no matter the circumstance. “Some of us don’t breathe either. Some throw lightening.”
“Jeezus.”
Saff chuckled. The van door opened, and several small children spilled out. Each stretched and sniffed the air, but none of them shifted. Their eyes focused on the man behind the wheel. Nehemaiah climbed out and strode over to them, a brawny 6’5 man, with skin as dark and coppery as his eyes, although the black of his long, braided hair was streaked with gray. It might be amusing, if Nehemaiah didn’t look so daunting, that he actively chose to signal his age no matter his form.
“We are ready,” Nehemaiah boomed, causing Minerva to startle at his voice. His eyes raked over Saff, and he arched a brow curiously.
“I see.” Saff moved away from her car. “We have planned to infiltrate. Go in just long enough to locate where the eggs might be so that we can avoid damaging them during the attack.”
Nehemaiah glared at the both of them, then nodded. “This plan is acceptable. We will wait on the perimeter and remain in human guise until you signal us.” His head leaned forward. “This has been good work, Saffyranae. I expect we shall have our children back by sundown.”
It sounded both like a compliment and a bit of a threat. She ignored his tone and nodded as well. That he had not mentioned Minerva was also a slight. He was flat out ignoring her, which suggested Kiayana had given him strict instructions. While they did not have a hierarchy, and Kiayana was roughly the same age as him, there was a clear difference in power. Hers was simply more patented, and the others deferred to her. Even Oyshin, their elder. Even Nehemaiah, the most aggressive.
“Good to see you again, ‘Maiah, buddy,” Minerva said suddenly.
His eyes fixed on her, flickering dangerously.
“Let us go. We have much to do, and the eggs cannot wait,” Saff said. She grabbed Minerva’s arm and pulled her back toward the driver’s seat.
Minerva winked back at Nehemaiah flirtatiously. He growled, but returned to his van to drive their small (for now) army.
35
Minerva
It shouldn’t have surprised Minerva that the Senator Jorgenson’s mansion looked like some kind of feudal estate, lined with palm trees, but it did, a little. The sky was too sunny. The land looked too green and cheery. This was the home of the mastermind behind an egg-smuggling ring that had unleashed a horrifying sickness on his own people. It should look more sinister and less Lifestyles of the Rich and Blameless.
From the looks of this place, the only thing the owner might be guilty of is misuse of government funding.
“I don’t see any cars,” Minerva said.
“We are early. They would not be here yet, would they?”
“No.” Minerva lifted her head up and scanned over the front of the estate once more. “People aren’t going in, though. We’re not going to blend in these outfits.”
Are you certai
n this is the correct location? Nehemaiah suddenly demanded in their heads.
“Oh my god!” Minerva turned around and threw a hand up at Nehemaiah, who was still behind the driver’s seat of the van, but could definitely see her.
He frowned back at her in confusion. Tell the human that I do not know what that gesture means.
“Tell General Asshole that I can hear him.”
I can also hear you.
“See, this is why we need walkie-talkies,” Minerva told Saff.
Saff shook her head. We are trying to discern our next move, Nehemaiah.
Even if you are early, it would be wise to scout before bringing in my warriors. One does not bring a full force in to meet an uncertain enemy. We should stick to the plan, even if it means appearing before the auction has started. Do you sense eggs inside, Saffyranae?
It hadn’t occurred to Minerva that Nehemaiah wouldn’t be able to sense it. That was something interesting. She watched Saff close her eyes and press a hand to her chest. She was looking; that was clear. Still… Minerva looked toward the house and thought about the cry of that little boy, and the way that little girl had reached out to her even from her egg…
“There’s definitely something in there,” Minerva blurted. “At least one egg, and something else...” Minerva looked up at Saff, who nodded.
She is correct, Saff agreed.
Perhaps they will bring the others at a later time. Closer to the auction, to avoid attempts at theft. Kiayana said that the humans knew about your attacks on their plans.
“And I would’ve gotten away with it, too, if weren’t for these meddling dragons,” Minerva muttered.
They will not get away, regardless, Nehemaiah insisted.
“It’s not- Nevermind. Anyway, I agree with General Asshole. We’re here to look around and catch them in the act. The planner said this would be the day in Brentwood. We can get in and look around before this shindig goes down.”
“The energy inside feels strange,” Saff said quietly.
Nehemaiah heard anyway. Now is not the time to give in to uncertainty and fear, child.
I’m not, Saff turned back to look at Nehemaiah. “What’s the best way in, Nerv?”
Minerva pulled out her security scrambler. “The best way is still through the front door. But if they’re looking for us, then we should be careful-“
Nehemaiah’s door opened and he came up to Minerva’s window.
“Can I help you, officer?” she said dryly.
“You have a connection to these people? A way of communicating with them?” he barked.
Minerva held up the phone.
“You could signal to them that someone is coming. Then, I could enter and ensure that you are allowed in,” he said.
“Not a bad idea.” Minerva started swiping on the phone. “Hold still.”
“Why-“
Minerva took his picture and then resumed swiping. “Well, you definitely fit in with the Buff Douche squad that held me captive. Wait a few minutes. Then take this car up to the gate. The van would be too weird. They’ll have your picture as a replacement guard and should let you in. I can instruct you on how to turn off the security system. I’m familiar with this one.”
“I can change my appearance,” Nehemaiah said.
“No need. They’ve been sending out messages every five minutes that they needed extra guards tonight. This’ll be perfect.” Minerva finished and looked up at him. “Seems I have a use for you, after all.”
“That is enough, human-“
“Like I told Saffyranae when I met her, Nehemaiah, if I can learn your garbled hot mess names, you can learn mine. Minerva. It’s three syllables.”
Nehemaiah stared at her hard. “I need to be in the car, Minerva. This suggests that you should get out of it.”
“Don’t drive angry,” Minerva said cheerfully as she slipped out.
36
Saffyranae
They had left Nehemaiah’s warrior force circling around the perimeter. Though they were still in the form of small children, Saff had recognized a few as they’d piled out of the van. Particularly a pair with sparkling brow eyes and ginger hair. Rararenal and Yuffylare, a pair of twins who had grown up with Saff and Rory. Though they had little magical sensitivity themselves, they had always been a fun pair. It hadn’t mattered that the twins were bound for battle and Rory and Saff bound for magic.
“Knock ‘em on their tails!” Rara cheered as he bounded off the van.
“Knock ‘em on their tails!” Yuffy echoed, slapping Rara’s hand with hers.
Those two were awfully cute as human children, even though they were Saff’s age. She couldn’t wait to tease them about it later. Even when in disguise, they’d chosen to make their appearances nearly identical.
Nehemaiah’s presence inside was an immense help. After leaving the warriors behind and Nehemaiah signaled to them that he’d turned off the inside sensors, Saff and Minerva circled around the back of the house. The door had unlocked itself as well, thanks to Nehemaiah’s meddling, and Minerva said that electronic security systems sometimes made things so much easier. Saff couldn’t disagree.
Saff had to take a moment to chill the air. Nehemiah had raised the temperature to a nearly insufferable level. She had expected to see a few guards, at least, but there wasn’t a single one conscious as they found their way through the house.
“Old ‘Maiah made ‘em all swoon,” Minerva said, holding up the hem of her dress as she stepped past a guard. “Oh… Sorry, Chuck. This guy just can’t make good life choices.”
“A friend of yours?”
“Hardly.” Minerva scanned the area. “If there’s going to be an auction here, we’re probably looking at one of the inner rooms. Something big and ballroomy.”
“Let’s find the eggs. The guards won’t stay unconscious for long.” Saff hurried ahead, grateful that she got to wear flats while Minerva had to trot along in those strappy little torture devices.
They ran into Nehemaiah in the hallway, and Saff gestured for him to follow. The energy of the egg was bright and vibrant. It was so strong that she felt proud of the child for making it this far without getting sick. Minerva had her hand over her heart.
Following the energy signature, they emerged into an enormous library. Sure enough, there was a shining egg resting on one of the altars Saff had seen before. The shell was luminous. Inside, she could feel the powerful heart beating. He was nearly ready to be born, and he was thriving.
He was, however, not alone.
Sitting beside him was a sallow man with white-streaked hair. His clothes swallowed him, and his narrow face was almost elfin in nature. He was tall, likely, but as he held both hands up to the egg and white energy flowed between it and his chest, he seemed somewhere between life and death. While clearly not afflicted with the plague, the man was ethereal… hollowed out.
Had this little child done that to him in exchange for life energy? Had he given it willingly or been compelled?
Before Saff could say anything, Nehemaiah rushed forward with an indignant roar: “Stay away from the child!”
Saff reached for Nehemaiah, lest he break this fragile creature, and Nehmaiah reached for the man. Green eyes popped open and turned on them, and all three of them were knocked back against a shelf of books.
37
Saffyranae
“Who are you?” demanded a hollow voice. “What are you doing here?”
Saff reached her feet first. Nehemaiah could not sense it, of course. Perhaps Minerva could. But the magic that had just thrown them was not dragon, nor was it human. It was the strangest thing she had ever felt, as though from another world. Even more, the longer she stood in this room, the more she could feel the damage, the wrongness that had touched the man down to his very soul.
Something not of this world had taken him, grabbed him, and marked him as something else, and, now, sitting on a mahogany floor with this egg, he was neither one thing nor the other. Neither here
nor there. How could his mind exist in such a state?
Why would anyone do something like that to a sentient creature? It would be akin to the delirium the humans suffered during their final stages of the plague, only worse, because he seemed to have been living this way for quite some time.
“Please. We are not here to harm you. We came—“
“You came for him,” the man said, scanning his ever-shifting gaze over the three of them.
“Yes. We did.” Saff held her hands up, but moved one back in front of Nehemaiah. Do not startle this man. He has power.
No kidding, Nehemaiah replied.
The man narrowed his eyes at them. “Three is a bit overkill for one senator, isn’t it?”
Saff raised her brows.
“Sure, we would love to have a chat with the Senator. A nice long sit down, maybe with some scotch and cigars,” Minerva said. “But we’d settle for getting that egg home.”
The man’s eyes flitted to the egg and back. “There are guards.”
“They’re unconscious,” Nehemaiah growled.
Stop it, Nehemaiah, Saff scolded.
“I don’t think the big guy is listening to you, ma’am,” the man said.
Oh. He could hear them talking to each other. Saff blinked. Weakly, he pushed himself back on the floor toward a wheelchair. It was a bit of a struggle, and Saff fought the urge to go help him into it. He looked so frail, even though he would probably knock them all back again if they tried to draw near.
“The magic of the eggs is not the same as the kind that has clearly harmed you, but I can sense that the egg has fed on your energy. It can only harm you—“
“I’m not stupid. I know that helping the egg drains me. You think I want a baby dying in our house?” He managed his way into his chair and rolled forward, positioning himself between her and the egg. “And I know what you are. At least, I know what you two are.”
Sirens and Scales Page 133