Chosen By The Dragon

by Imogen Taylor

  “Whoa,” Jacob said. The loud noise of hotel bar was too much. He quickly moved outside. “What? Who came to see you?”

  “He said you’d know. He threatened me! My mother! How did he know about my mother, huh? You over there talking shit about me? Bragging to all of your little douchebag friends about bagging some local chick and now they think I’m just open season?”

  “Wendy, stop, please. I haven’t said anything—“

  “You’re a liar!”

  “I’m not lying! Are you at the bar? I’ll come over right now. Wait there.”

  “Oh no you don’t,” she said. That more than anything made Jacob freeze. “You’re gone for days and all of a sudden you’re just on your way? Where were you earlier? Where were you yesterday or the day before? I had to call you seventeen times before you picked up, you son of a bitch. Now all of a sudden I’m supposed to believe you give a shit?”

  “Wendy, please, it’s not like that.”

  “I don’t give a shit what it’s like!”

  “I had to focus on work. I was becoming too distracted—“

  “So I’m a distraction, am I? That’s what I am to you. Now I’m a distraction. Not before. Not before I took you up to some place special to me and let you fuck me. No, no, then I was your little magic snowflake. And you know what really disgusts me? I was actually buying it. I actually wanted to believe that you were this sweet, handsome guy that you presented yourself as. But no, now I distract you. Well don’t let me be a distraction any more. You and your little friend leave me the hell alone.”

  Before he could say anything, the call ended. Jacob pulled the phone back and looked at the words blinking on his phone. “Call Ended” It felt so final.

  Just like that. Had he lost her for good?

  Chapter 8: Cold Dark Nights

  Wendy walked home from work, arms hugging her middle, but only half because of the cold. The wind blew around her, chilling her ears. She kept her head down against it, hair flapping behind her. A few stray strands found their way across her face, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  Why hadn’t he called? It’d been another day since they’d talked on the phone. She knew she’d told him off. She’d been angry and scared. She meant every word she said, but still… Nothing? He wasn’t even going to try to make it up to her? It was hypocritical, she knew, but it felt like he was just letting it go. Letting her go. Was it that easy?

  She’d said it in anger over the phone, but as she walked home, she really began to feel that everything they had shared together was a lie. All of his dodging her questions and giving her cryptic answers fell into place. It wasn’t that he was reserved; he was not letting himself get close to her. He didn’t want to be close to her, just inside of her.

  Wendy sniffed against the wind, her nose running. It was the cold that made her nose run, she told herself. It was also the wind making her eyes tear.

  It was 3 o’clock in the morning; her shift had ended half an hour ago, and she’d never felt more alone in her life. Walking up to her front door, she put her key into the lock and turned it only to find it unlocked already. Wendy tilted her head slightly and tried the doorknob. Somehow, she expected it to not work, but the door squeaked as it opened, just as it always did. She couldn’t say what it was that set her on edge.

  Wendy stepped slowly, cautiously into the house. The lights were dim--only the ones in the living room were on and they were low-wattage. She didn’t expect the house to be a beacon of hope, but somehow it felt off. Wrong. Wendy closed the door behind her, the latch locking with a click.

  “Sophie,” she called out.

  The nurse was nocturnal, which made her perfect for watching Wendy’s mom while she was at work. In all the years they’d worked with one another, she’d never come home and caught Sophie sleeping. Not that it would matter. Her mom was hooked up to enough machines that if something were to go wrong, the beeping and blaring would wake the dead. Still, it was a matter of professional courtesy.

  As she came closer to the living room, she heard the TV on low. Was Sophie just watching TV and hadn’t heard her? Mom’s machines were beeping. Why hadn’t Sophie wheeled her into her bedroom? Just as Wendy stepped to the corner to look inside, she heard a man laugh. It was a soft, throaty laugh. Genuine. It was also familiar.

  The sound of that laugh made Wendy cold all over. She wanted to scream, to run, but mom was in that room with him. No matter how scared she was, she couldn’t leave her mother. Wendy rounded the corner and looked at the man sitting on the couch. There he was, holding the TV remote, one leg crossed over the other in his finely tailored suit. The creepy man from the bar.

  “Where’s Sophie?” she asked him.

  “Shhh,” he said putting a finger to his lips. He never took his eyes off of the TV.

  “Where’s Sophie?” Wendy repeated louder and stepped into the room. She was so terrified that in order to act or speak at all, she had to get angry.

  When he looked at her and sharply repeated the gesture, though, she was reminded of how terrified she was. “This is a good part,” he added and pointed to the TV.

  Morbidly curious, Wendy looked over to see him watching some late night sitcom. It was a rerun, but she’d never seen the show. The father was arguing with his predictably tenacious tween daughter. It was an entirely run out concept at this point, but back in the 90s, they ate this crap up with a spoon. The dad put on a show of being upset, hands on his hips, but the daughter just let off some inane quip. The man laughed again, right along with the laugh track.

  “Get out of my house,” Wendy said. “And tell me where Sophie is.”

  “You’re being very rude,” he said, and turned off the TV. The loss of the TV’s gentle glow and small sounds brought her to the present. She hadn’t realized how much of her mind was distracted by the simple fact that the TV was on, but now that it was off, she felt terror seize every part of her. She just had to stay angry.

  “You’re damn right I’m being rude,” she said in a loud whisper. It was late, and her sick mother was still sleeping just a few feet away. She hated the situation but she wouldn’t wake her mother if she didn’t have to. She didn’t trust that the poor woman’s heart could take it.

  “I gave Sophie the night off,” he said casually and looked down at his fingernails.

  “Is that a metaphor for something, or is she going to come back tomorrow refreshed and well-rested from her day off?”

  The man laughed, and then forced himself to do it more quietly. “Oh, you are funny. I can see why he likes you so much.”

  “Get the fuck out of my house, you asshole!”

  The man looked at her as though considering it, then tilted his head slightly and said, “No.” He stood from the couch, and in a single step was by her mother’s bedside. “I’m having trouble with your Jacob.”

  “Yeah, well he’s not my Jacob, so it’s not my problem.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and came around to stand near her mom’s head. Putting his face beside hers, he looked at her and whispered, “Say it’s not your problem one more time. Say it loud enough for her to hear.”

  Wendy’s lip quivered as it curled and she clenched her fingers into fists so tight that her fingernails dug into the flesh of her palm. “Get away from my mother.”

  “Tell Jacob to back off. He’s becoming… difficult.”

  “If you don’t get away from her right now—“ Wendy stepped forward with the full intent of ripping his throat out or something equally as heinous, but when he brought his hand up and rested it on her mother’s collar, his fingers just inches from her throat, everything inside Wendy froze.

  “If you can’t make him back off, well…” His hand moved closer to her mother’s throat, “I’d hate to have to give you motivation.”

  Wendy breathed so hard that her nostrils flared, her breath fast and broken. The man stood with a bright smile on his face. He tossed the remote on the couch and walked past Wendy.

>   As he did, he said softly, “Have a good night.”

  Wendy stood unable to move until she heard the front door close. She rushed over and locked both of the locks.

  She heard him laugh again on the other side.

  Chapter 9: Awakened the Beast

  Jacob’s ringtone woke him up. Confused, he picked up the bright rectangular light and looked at it. It was Wendy. As groggy as he was, relief flooded through him. He thought he’d lost her forever. If there was even the smallest chance he could win her back, he’d take it, even if that meant answering a random call at… was it really 3 in the morning? Jacob slid the bar over and answered it.

  Before he could say a word she screamed, “GET YOUR LIFE OUT OF MY LIFE!”

  Jacob’s head shook of its own volition and he forced himself onto his feet. “Wendy, wait, I haven’t even—“

  “That asshole was in my house, Jacob. He touched my mother. He touched my mother!”

  After that, she broke down into horrible sobs and incoherent ranting. Jacob listened, adding in sounds here and there so she knew he was still on the line. Whatever happened was serious, and she needed to get the worst of this out before she could make sense. He knew that. When she’d finally worked through the worst of it, he said gently, “Now, what happened tonight? Who was at your house?”

  She was understandably annoyed at having to repeat herself, but when he explained he hadn’t understood a word of what she said, she laughed. Fortunately. He’d expected her to reach through the phone and murder him. The gentle tinkling of her voice was a balm to his soul.

  In a much calmer tone, she explained everything that had happened from the moment she opened the unlocked door to the laughter after she’d locked it behind him. Now that Jacob understood what had happened, he knew who was behind all of this. Outside interference was strictly forbidden. For Tristan to try and apply pressure to Jacob this way was against not only the laws of the negotiations, but it was also just downright dishonorable. Without honor, dragon shifters were little more than animals, or worse, humans..

  Even when she was angry and upset with him, he still held her on a pedestal. She was too perfect not to be. Hearing everything Tristan had been doing to her, Jacob shook.

  “Wendy, regardless about how you feel about me, know that I’m sorry this is happening. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Jacob, I…” Her words failed.

  He knew she wanted to argue, but he just repeated, “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  They hung up, and Jacob couldn’t stop pacing his hotel room. He was unable to calm down the rest of the night.

  That morning, when negotiations started, he avoided conversation with everyone. Tristan walked in with his friends, smirking and looking rather proud of himself. He even looked over at Jacob with a little nod of his head, as though he was being gracious in his victory.

  Timothy came over to Jacob to say good morning, but before he could Jacob said, “Don’t talk to me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Timothy said, hands raised. “Did I--?”

  “You did nothing. I’m incapable of conversation.”

  “Hey, you got it.” Timothy picked up an apple and tossed it into his other hand.

  Just as he turned to walk away, Jacob said, “Tim.” When he turned, Jacob added, “I may need you.”

  “Just let me know.”

  “Oh,” Jacob said and turned his eyes back to Tristan. “You’ll know.”

  As the time to begin drew close, everyone gravitated to his or her seat. Jacob stayed in the back. He paced the back row of chairs alone. It drew attention to him. Good. He wanted people to know. They needed to know that he wasn’t going to roll over, that this sort of game was unacceptable. They wanted to threaten those he cared about? They wanted to try to blackmail him? Those were children’s games, used by those too weak to meet a challenge head-on.

  Jacob’s breathing quickened as he knew the seconds ticked closer to the start of the meeting. If he did this outside of official negotiation hours, it wouldn’t be valid. Holding himself back was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Timothy notice his condition. Timothy looked from Jacob to Tristan and back again.

  He could see Timothy’s mouth slowly form the words, “Oh shit.”

  Darren stood at the front of the seats watching the clock. He glanced at Jacob, but said nothing. Tristan looked at Jacob, but then looked away, pleased. To him it must’ve looked like Jacob was frustrated, powerless. His little sycophants all talked among themselves, ignoring Jacob as well. The fools.

  At the front of the room, Darren drew in a deep breath through his nose. He then looked to Jacob, and gave him a sharp nod. They were now officially within the timeframe of the negotiations.

  Screaming his rage, Jacob charged down the aisle toward Tristan. Timothy stood up from his seat and shouted, “Yes!”

  Tristan looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened in shock as Jacob flew over two full rows of seats and crashed into his slender torso. Chairs crashed as they rolled into them. Jacob threw punch after punch, breaking his knuckles against the hard bones of Tristan’s face.

  “You threaten a human? You threaten a sick old woman? A woman incapable of even responding to your words!”

  Jacob stood, grabbed Tristan by the front of his suit, and, with a quick spin, chucked him over the front rows of seats to the front of the room. A few of Tristan’s friends tried to grab at Jacob, but he shrugged them off violently. Timothy was there suddenly, pulling them off of Jacob and standing between them.

  “No,” Tristan whimpered, crawling backward away from Jacob and holding an arm up to protect himself. “You can’t do this.”

  Jacob grabbed chairs and threw them across the conference hall to clear a path toward Tristan’s prone form. “Check the bylaws. You attempted to control the negotiations by threatening outside personal contacts. That allows me to confront you through one-on-one combat. The only way for you to come out of this with any power intact is to beat me. Right here. Right now.”

  “No,” Tristan cried. Then looking to Darren, he said again, “No.”

  “The laws allow it. Jacob acted within his rights,” Darren said. “He even stood an additional ten paces outside of the required fifteen. It’s meant to give you a head start if you wish to run. It’s no one’s fault but your own that you didn’t see the clear threat in his eyes.”

  Tristan tried to scream, tried to get up to run, but Jacob grabbed him by the back of his finely-made suit jacket and jerked him back and off of his feet. Slamming him to the ground, Jacob proceeded to beat the man senseless. When he was done, he stood over him, knuckles covered in a mix of his own blood and that of the man below.

  “Tristan, you are hereby excommunicated from the negotiations. The Drathmir clan, now without representation, forfeits all rights to its claims, including, but not limited to, any you claimed prior to this incident. If the Drathmir clan can assign a new representative before the conclusion of the negotiations, this can be revisited. As of now, however, your previous claims are once more up for grabs. Remove yourself from this establishment.”

  Tristan stood on shaky knees. He ran a sleeve under his nose as he looked from Darren to Jacob, then to his friends. They wouldn’t meet his gaze. He seemed on the verge of tears. “You’ll pay for this,” he said to Jacob.

  “No,” Jacob said firmly. “I won’t. I see you again and I’ll eat your heart.”

  Tristan sniffled again and as he ran weakly down the aisle, he screamed, “You won’t get away with this!”

  Timothy came up to stand beside Jacob. Quietly, he held up his hand. Jacob high-fived it, both of them watching the little weasel run.

  “Want a bagel?” Timothy asked.

  “Please. I’m starving.”

  Chapter 10: A Voice of Reassurance

  Wendy puttered around her house. When she’d called Sophie to let her know she was taking the da
y off from work, there were no words for the relief she felt when the woman actually answered the phone. She sounded unsure, but it was clear the man had simply lied. Wendy couldn’t blame her, it had been a convincing story; still, she didn’t want to leave her mother’s side.

  All she had to tell work was that her mother wasn’t doing well and someone was able to switch shifts with her. It was the best thing about working at that place. Everyone was so understanding about her mother’s condition. Wendy couldn’t settle. At any moment, she expected that man to show up again with those eyes and those teeth. That stupid grin. That laugh. It unsettled her in ways she couldn’t describe, even to herself. She’d never been more scared for her life or that of her mother’s. Sure, her mom had been sick for years, but that didn’t mean she was ready to go. Wendy sure as hell wasn’t ready to let her go.

  What really unsettled her was that if he did come for her, if he did want to hurt her mother, Wendy didn’t think she could do anything to stop it. That feeling of helplessness kept her walking the halls of her home, checking the windows upstairs constantly, and coming back down to see if her mother needed anything.

  When her phone rang and Jacob’s voice was on the other end, the comfort she felt overwhelmed her anger and hurt at the way he had treated her. He was there; for the moment, that was all she needed to know.

  “Hey, they said you were home tonight?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I didn’t want to leave my mom.”

  “So you’re home?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I uh… I’m outside. Think we could talk?”

  Wendy went to the front door and looked out the peephole. There, on the front porch, was Jacob on his phone, looking out over the front yard. Wendy undid the locks and opened the door. He turned quickly and smiled that awkward smile of his. Hanging up the call, he put his hands in his pockets.

  “Hear me out?”