Nebulous_A Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy

by Katie French

  “What is this? Are we all to be treated the same way as the real criminals?” This was from Tom, who, after getting some healing attention from Ivy, appeared steadier, though still injured. He stood shakily, then pointed at the cluster of Deeploch dragons to the left of our group. “They’re to blame. What are you going to do with them?”

  “I ask the questions here,” Black Rock said, then Tom dropped to his knees like a sack of potatoes, his lips as tightly glued as mine.

  “You suck, man,” Fang said. “I can’t believe I even wanted to be part of the conciliatory. But guess what? You and your brethren can go f—”

  Another one bit the superglue.

  Only Ki was left, but he wasn’t the kind to rebel and disobey, was he?

  As if to answer my question, he stood, hands tightly clasped behind his back.

  “Not you too, Ki. Sit,” Mr. Liang growled.

  “No, Baba,” Ki said calmly. “I can answer any questions the conciliatory has.” Lifting his chin, he met Black Rock’s intense gaze. “If they really are willing to listen.”

  Black Rock cracked his neck as he inspected Ki from head to toe. “You seem like a sensible dragon. Come forth.”

  Come forth? Who the hell talks like that?

  Hermit dudes who were born centuries ago, I answered myself.

  As Ki stepped gingerly around everyone, he gave me a quick wink. The gesture surprised me. I expected winks from Santiago, not Ki. Was he doing this to impress me? Something told me he was.

  Ki stopped a few paces from Black Rock. He seemed small next to the hulking conciliator. Ki opened his mouth to speak just as Black Rock turned and pointed at Jimmy, the freaking usurper who had stolen the lighthouse from me. A bunch of names for him tumbled in my head, starting with jerkwad and ending in something that would make a biker blush.

  “You, come here and speak for Deeploch and the rest.”

  Jimmy? Really?

  The thief stood, then joined Black Rock and Ki. Expression haughty, shoulders set, he seemed completely unafraid, as if what they’d done here was justifiable. I wanted to scream.

  “Where is your leader?” Black Rock asked.

  Jimmy shrugged. “Somewhere no one knows, I’m sure. She’s smart. You won’t find her.”

  Black Rock grunted, then gestured toward Tara’s crowd. “Is all of Deeploch here?”

  “Pretty much,” Jimmy said. “The ones who aren’t dead, anyway. Frostfire and Bentclaw, too.”

  “What was the object of mobilizing your dens here?”

  “Dunno,” Jimmy answered, running a hand over his close-cropped hair. “We were just following orders.”

  “That old excuse,” Black Rock said.

  “It’s true.” Jimmy shrugged again.

  Black Rock turned to Ki, who, up to that point, had the pained expression of someone biting their tongue so as not to interrupt.

  “What was the object of mobilizing your den here?” Black Rock repeated the same question to Ki.

  “To defend the wardens,” Ki answered simply.

  “The wardens can defend themselves.” Black Rock glanced at the five wardens who stood behind our group.

  They were all older, like my aunt, which made me sorely aware of her absence. I glanced toward the pit where her body had turned to ash. There was nothing to take back and bury, only her sword and ring, and those would surely be passed along to her successor. Trent was out there, too. Alone, his life forfeited because he’d dared to help us. And no one able to speak would stand up for them?

  “The wardens can’t defend themselves when their powers are stolen.” Ki waved a hand in my direction.

  “Stolen?” Black Rock echoed.

  Ki nodded.

  “Explain.”

  So Ki did, from the moment I stupidly lost the lighthouse, to how Jimmy and Tara had taken the power from the beacon and declared open war on anyone who wouldn’t join them in a new order that would get rid of antiquated creeds.

  Things got more interesting when Ki got to the part about Tara turning me into a dragon, then threatening to murder my father if I didn’t turn myself in. The entire time Ki was explaining about the dragon-making IV and how sick it made me, Black Rock stared my way, wearing an expression I couldn’t decipher. Something somewhere between horror and interest. Cool, now I wasn’t just a human freak—I was a dragon freak, too.

  “A dragon warden,” Black Rock said when Ki was done explaining the events that had brought us here. He shook his head. “What is this world coming to?” He eyed me as if I were the oddity I suspected I was.

  My insides twisted when I thought of what I’d become. As if life as a clueless warden wasn’t complicated enough; now I was a clueless dragon, too.

  “What will you do now, Conciliator?” Ki asked.

  “First things first, everyone here will take care of their dead. Even though the island is protected by magic, I want no trace left of the battle. Those killed in their human shape will be buried. The rest will be dispelled. You may mourn your dead, but do not linger. Members of Deeploch, Frostfire, and Bentclaw will be taken back to our sanctuary for further questioning and judgment. Longtail and Backdraft leaders,” he turned to Mr. Liang and Mr. Alcon, “will also come and serve as witnesses.”

  Black Rock strolled in my direction, then stopped a few paces away. “As far as Tara Palmer is concerned, I will personally find her and bring her to justice for what she’s done. She will pay for her audacity and defiance to our creed. Content?” he asked, an eyebrow arched.

  The tightness around my jaw lessened, and my lips tingled. I opened and closed my mouth, realizing it was back to normal. But all the words that had gotten stuck behind my lips since Black Rock silenced me seemed to tangle together, and I was unable to utter a single word.

  “Good,” Black Rock said, then turned on his heel. “Now, everyone except Tara’s bunch, get to work.”

  We buried Trent next to an old tree with swooping branches and a view of the beach. Tom, in his dragon form, dug a grave and tenderly deposited his brother’s limp body inside. He carefully crossed Trent’s arms over his chest, then pushed a lock of blue hair away from his pale face.

  I’m sorry, he said, his thoughts unguarded as we gathered around the grave. I’m sorry I brought you into this. It’s my fault.

  I pressed a hand to Tom’s side. His blue scales were rough under my hand, and I wondered if he even felt my touch.

  It’s not your fault, I said. Tara did this.

  Tom shook his head, but he didn’t argue with me. I wondered if dragons could cry. Was he keening inside? Or would it all tumble out later? His brother was dead. I could imagine the pain. My mother’s death nearly buried me before I found ways to deal with it.

  Ki, Fang, and Santiago came closer and placed their hands on Tom. We stood in silence that way until Tom found the strength to push dirt into the grave with one final goodbye and a last apology.

  After that, saying farewell to my aunt wasn’t as difficult as I’d expected. She had died fighting and aware of the risk, while Trent’s death had been senseless. True, it was horrible and Tara should be brought to justice, but I couldn’t find the tears I needed for her. Maybe that would come later, too.

  It turned out that those killed in dragon shape were magical vessels their den leaders could simply touch and dispel as if they were made of starlight. Soon, the dark sky sparkled as the many dead dragons drifted into the night. I estimated that at least fifty had died. I had trained with some of them, then sat by a bonfire to enjoy Mirror Island’s tranquil evenings. Now they were gone, which made me reconsider Black Rock’s outrage at the dens’ decisions to fight. Had the loss of life been worth it? And was there ever a time when the answer to that question was yes?

  When it was all said and done, I found Dad, who we’d left in Ivy’s care. She seemed to have worked on him as he appeared less shaky than before. Flooded with relief, I fell into his open arms, exhausted. He smoothed my hair, then kissed my forehead.

/>   “You have been incredibly strong, Li,” he whispered in my ear. “I’m proud of you.”

  Tears spilled down my cheeks. I didn’t feel strong. I just felt broken and ready to go home.

  “Let’s go home,” Dad said as if reading my mind.

  “Let’s,” I said, taking his hand and heading away from the pit.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Two Weeks Later

  I peered into the mirror above my dresser, pursing my lips and tugging at my hair. I’d done the best I could with the makeup. Mercedes wasn’t here to do it for me or even check to make sure I didn’t look like a streetwalker with a Mary Kaye addiction, but who could mess up lip gloss and mascara? Me, that was who. I took another long look, making sure nothing was slathered on my teeth.

  My hair was washed and straightened, out of a ponytail for once, so that had to be a start. And I wasn’t covered in blood or dirt or wearing men’s clothing pulled from a leaky lakefront plastic tub. My new dress was navy blue with white and pink flowers, an off-the shoulder number that cascaded to my knees and swished around them if I twirled. It would have to be good enough.

  My dress and makeup weren’t helping the gut-clenching nerves currently attacking my body. This was the first real date I’d been on in… who knew how long? Dating hadn’t exactly been a priority between almost being murdered and investigating Dad’s abduction. You know, priorities.

  I grabbed my purse and ballet flats, still not able to bring myself to wear heels. What if I needed to run after psycho dragon overlords? I imagined that threat would never dissipate, but my date would be here any minute so I pushed the bad thoughts from my mind.

  Dad was downstairs, puttering around the kitchen. The house had fallen apart a bit since I, and then Jimmy, had taken ownership of it. Dad was slowly putting things back to right with mine and the boys’ help. We suddenly found ourselves with a lot of time on our hands. They even returned the diving equipment we used to sneak into the lighthouse the night we’d seen Jimmy get naked, so I got my refund money back. Yay for my puny college fund!

  Walking down the creaky stairs I’d missed so much, I stopped at the landing, watching for a moment. Dad stood at the kitchen counter, unloading the lunch dishes from the washer. As he held a glass up, his hand shook like that of an advanced-stage Parkinson’s patient. I winced, striding over to help.

  “I can unload that when I get back from my date,” I said, taking the glass from his hands and sliding it with the others. “You just rest.” I pecked a kiss on the side of his head, worry tightening my chest. I wished there was a way to make him better. I’d even asked Santiago’s father if he could heal him, but he said dragon healing powers were limited to injuries, not this type of degenerative disease.

  “Lila, I don’t need to rest. I can do things.” He pushed his smeared glasses up the bridge of his nose. Too pale and thin, he was still not the man he was before Tara took him. “You and those boys have been babying me far too much.”

  “Those boys need to feel useful or they get restless and start giving each other atomic wedgies. Not pretty,” I joked. “Think of it as keeping them occupied and teaching them responsibility all at the same time.”

  Dad frowned. “Don’t they have… I don’t know… dragony things to do?”

  I shrugged. “The search for Tara is still underway. Black Rock is personally coming back to give us an update. I think he feels like crap for letting her slip through his fingers… er… claws? Anyway, until there’s word on Tara, there’s not much to do.”

  Dad studied me as Pickles jumped up on the counter and demanded his attention. Without looking at the cat, he absently reached to pet him, still focused on me. “Have you given any more thought to school? We could write a letter explaining some of the things that happened.”

  Wincing, I buried my attention in collecting spoons from the dishwasher tray. “Sure. Eventually.”

  “Lila—”

  The doorbell rang. Literally saved by the bell.

  “That’s for me,” I said, bolting up. I sprang to the door, then yanked it open. “Ki, you saved my—”

  I stopped short. Ki wasn’t on my front step. Black Rock was.

  He was so tall his head nearly scrapped the awning and so broad he filled the doorway. Appearing more casual than I’d ever seen him, he was dressed in loose khaki pants, and a lightweight shirt open in the front, its light color contrasting nicely with his dark skin. He was like a young Idris Elba, perfect features and all. My eyes skimmed up his abs and chest before resting on his face. His golden eyes regarded me with a mix of seriousness and curiosity, lips twitching as I stood there, staring.

  “Not who you were expecting, I take it.” God, his voice was so deep, like a rumble of thunder.

  The chirp of crickets filled the night, making my stunned silence painfully obvious. Shaking myself out of my stupor, I tried to play it cool.

  “I’m waiting for Ki. Did we have an appointment or something?” I leaned against the doorframe, trying to appear casual, but I was sure I failed miserably.

  “Lila, who is that?” Dad asked from behind me.

  “It’s Black Rock, Dad,” I called. “It’s fine.”

  I strode forward, pushing Black Rock back and shutting the door behind me. Together, we stood on the stoop. Only after the door was shut did I notice my hand still rested on Black Rock’s rock-hard bare chest.

  Yanking my hand away, I felt a blush burn my face. “Oh, yeah, so… What’s up, man?”

  Oh Lord, Lila. Get a grip.

  Black Rock’s perfect brows arched before he continued. “I wanted to come personally let you know we are doing everything in our power to track Tara Palmer down. Though it is proving more difficult than we thought, we will find her. Rest assured.”

  At this, I scoffed. “Sorry, B.R., but I don’t feel assured. She’s done this before, and only came back stronger.”

  This seemed to trouble him. “But you’ve never had the Dragon Conciliatory on your side before.”

  “On my side?” I said, pressing a hand to my chest. “Since when are you on my side?”

  He cleared his throat as if what I had just said made him uncomfortable. “The D.C. always works for those who need us. We are tough but fair. Justice will be served. You can count on it.”

  “Okay, Black Rock, whatever you say.” I shook my head, waiting for him to contradict me, storm off, or worse, seal my mouth shut. Instead, he pinned me with his bright golden eyes.

  He gazed at me as if I were a new species, something to be studied and marveled at. “Lila McCarty, you are… not like other women.”

  “Gee, thanks?” I said, confused about what this was. Heat traveled up my neck, and I had the strange urge to put my hand back on his massive chest muscles.

  I thought he would speak again, admonish me for my sassy attitude, but he leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear instead. His fingers slid down my neck, the gentle brush of skin on skin, before retreating.

  With one more penetrating look, he turned, jogged down the porch steps, and disappeared into the night.

  I stood there, heart hammering, watching the man fade away. Black Rock liked me? Or was that just something the D.C. did to console people? If I was not mistaken, there was some definite toe-curling tension between us. And what in the hell was I going to do with that?

  Before I could think about it any longer, Ki pulled up in his brother’s truck. He stepped out, dressed for our date with impeccable style—a collared shirt, skinny tie, jeans, and loafers. His black hair was purposefully messy. Ki was so smart, so attuned to things, I tended to forget he had a killer body, his muscular shape impossible to hide under his clothes. But when he turned on that shy dimpled smile, that was when I melted.

  “Hey,” I said, feeling a blush bloom, which was weird. I had been with Ki and the boys every day for weeks. Yet, this was our first “date,” and that made everything feel new.

  “Hey,” he said back. “You look incredible.”r />
  More blushing from us both. What was this, a middle school dance?

  “Thanks,” I said. “Where to?”

  “I’ll show you.” He reached out, waiting for my hand.

  Placing my fingers in his, I let him lead me away from his car toward the beach. When I shot him a questioning glance, he smiled again. “Just trust me.”

  We left the boardwalk, taking off our shoes as we hit the warm sand. Ki walked beside me, strong and sure, his eyes flicking my way now and then to gauge how I was feeling about his choice of location. But when I saw the driftwood fire, the blanket and picnic basket beside it, my face lit up.

  “Dinner on the beach?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Too cliché?”

  “Too perfect,” I said. “How did you know the beach was my favorite?”

  “Took a wild guess.”

  We sat on the blanket, knees nearly touching. The surf rolled up in lazy waves. With the crackling fire, they create the most relaxing soundtrack.

  I sighed deeply, trying to unwind. No one was trying to kill me. There was no mastermind plot to destroy the world. Things were okay. But it was hard to believe. After being at war, most people couldn’t suddenly stop seeing the enemy at every turn.

  “Is everything okay?” Ki asked, sensing my tension. Damn his intuition.

  “Yeah, it’s fine.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, Ki. It’s like… it’s so hard for me to go back to normal, you know. I’m so used to fighting that I don’t even know what to do with myself anymore. Fighting’s easy. This,” I gestured between us, “is hard.”

  Ki sifted his fingers though the sand as his face became thoughtful. “I know exactly what you mean. It’s like everywhere I look, I keep expecting Tara Palmer to jump out of the dark. My dad thinks I should go back home.”

  “Home?” I asked in alarm, gripping his hand. “Is that going to happen?”