by Ava Benton
I soared higher, then cut down through the mist and into the woods, barely skimming the treetops. Harder, faster, harder, faster. I pushed myself to my limit and beyond, hoping to exhaust my body and quiet my dragon’s voice.
It was better than waiting for her to wake up, feeling useless and hopeless.
Everything was sharper, clearer through my dragon’s eyes. I could make out the smallest squirrel, the swiftest finch. It brought to mind the early times, when we had once hunted for our sustenance. Long before the superstore was so much as a wild idea.
Those were simpler times. It was just us, the clan, cut off from the rest of the world. We could exist with a greater sense of security then.
There were days when I wished we might return to those times. When isolation seemed a safer course of action. Preferable to leaving ourselves open to outside threats.
And yet one of the largest threats had come from within our clan, years earlier. Before I had taken Gavin’s place.
He had never told me, though I’d asked time and again, who’d fathered Demeter’s child. If he had, would I have revealed their identity to the coven?
It was as though she heard me thinking about her parents. I spied Keira leaving the cave, tipping her head back once she was outside as though to fill her lungs with fresh air and enjoy the sensation of the breeze against her skin.
I landed not far from where she stood, catching her attention as my wings stirred up the leaves. She waited with her back turned, modesty compelling her to give me privacy while I pulled on the clothing I’d left near the cave mouth.
“How is she?” I asked, lacing my boots before joining her. As always, she held her head erect, her proud stance perhaps a hint at who she was underneath her skin.
One of us. How had we not felt it from the start?
“The same,” she announced with a resigned sigh. “Sleeping. I guess it’s for the best right now, like Selene said.”
“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to retain my patience,” I muttered.
“Honestly, I agree with Selene.” When I turned to her with brows raised in silent question, she was quick to explain. “I’m not sure how much more I could have taken of her hating me. I need a minute to get a hold of myself without her shooting daggers with her eyes or trying to avoid me.”
“She was merely hurt because she did not understand,” I reminded her. My rather clunky way of trying to comfort her.
“I know. And I know it’ll take a while for her to understand—if she ever does.” Her chin quivered, or perhaps it was a trick of the light for she brought herself under control in a moment’s time. “I love her. I really do. She’s my sister, even if we’re not related by…”
By blood. That was what she wanted to say.
No, they were not related. Far from it. I shared more in common with Keira than Emelie did.
“She will remember that,” I promised. “Once the shock has worn off, she will.”
“You don’t know her.”
“I feel as though I do.”
She smiled, perhaps a bit wryly. “You called her yours. Do you remember? She is mine. You were just about frantic when you brought her back from out here. I mean, by rights, I should’ve been the one demanding somebody help her. But you did.”
“Aye. I suppose I did. It’s all a bit of a blur now—the heat of the moment, and all.”
She smirked, but was kind enough not to press the matter.
Instead, she drew a hitching breath as she looked out into the woods. “Emelie’s not the only one who had to face a lot of hard facts today.”
Of course. She was just as confused and off-balance as her friend. “It’s a great shame, to be sure, the way you found out about it all.”
“If I had my druthers, I would’ve chosen some other way,” she agreed in a soft voice.
“This makes you quite special. You realize that, I imagine.”
“I’ve never wanted to be special. I’ve only ever wanted to be me.”
“Aye, but we often do not have the luxury of choosing,” I pointed out. “I did not choose to take Gavin’s place at the head of the clan—and I certainly didn’t choose for him to be removed from us so suddenly,” I added, grimacing.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t have.”
“Certain aspects of our lives are thrust upon us,” I observed. “It is up to us to do our level best with what we’re given. What more can we do?”
“You’re very wise.”
“I’ve had a very long life.”
She smiled, though there were tears in her eyes when she looked at me. “I need to ask. I hope you know that I need to ask.”
I sighed. “Aye. I’ve expected it.”
“You really don’t know? He never told you who my father was?”
“I’m sorry. He did not. I wish I could put your mind at ease.”
She nodded, as though she’d expected as much. “When you’re an orphan—or, at least, when you’re living without parents—you tend to imagine who your parents really were. Some kids would make up stories about their parents being undercover agents somewhere, like in the FBI or something, and that one day they’d reunite. Or the parents were famous, like royalty, and the kids were kidnapped and never returned. That sort of thing.”
“I’ll wager you would never have come up with the truth on your own, even in your wildest imaginings.”
She smiled again. “No. Not in a million years. I only wish I knew what it all meant. It was one thing to find out I was a Blood Moon Priestess, but this? No offense, but it’s sort of trippy.”
“None taken. I’m certain it is.”
Keira bit her lip, and this time there was no question whether or not her chin quivered. “I want so much for Em to accept me for who I am, because without her, who can I talk to about it? I love Tamhas, you know I do, but he wouldn’t understand what it’s like to be an outsider coming into this new world. Only she would.”
“And she will. When she comes back to us, she will.” I was more determined than ever to make it so.
Keira had already been part of the clan, truly a part, once Tamhas declared her his mate. That connection was stronger than ever now that I knew she shared the blood of the dragon.
We went back then, walking side-by-side, and I could honestly say I was glad to know she was one of us—not because lack of dragon blood would have made her unsuitable, but because we had an excuse to get to know each other a bit better.
Selene had moved Emelie to a room within the cave, one not currently inhabited by a witch. The coven had dwindled considerably in size, totaling eleven in all when I could remember there being many dozens. There was no shortage of empty space available.
The room was sparse, lit by dozens of candles burning their cold flames. The fire in the hearth, carved into the wall opposite the bed, crackled with real warmth.
“I thought she might react better if she woke up in a room such as this,” Callie explained. “With a fire burning and candles flickering. It might help soothe her.”
She seemed to genuinely care, which I found touching. “I’m sure it will. She will appreciate it.”
“I do hope so. She seems like a nice girl. Confused, overwhelmed, but a good soul. I can see why she and Keira became so close. And we are all pleased to know that Keira had such a good friend in the outside world.”
She smiled at Keira, who did her best to return it. She was clearly uncomfortable—there was no telling if and when she would ever be completely at-home with her fellow witches.
I sat beside Callie. “There might be something we can do. Something to help Emelie out of the state she’s in.”
“Have you spoken with Selene about it?”
I shook my head. “I wanted to bring the idea to you, first. I had the feeling you would be more receptive.”
“You thought I’d be more likely to agree, as she is likely to turn you down,” she translated, not unkindly.
“In a sense, yes.”
&n
bsp; She sighed, glancing at Emelie before asking, “What is it you had in mind?”
13
Emelie
It was the strangest thing.
I was in my room. At home. In Brooklyn.
But it felt like I should be somewhere else. Like home was not where I needed to be right now.
It wasn’t like I had a job to get to. Or school. I was well past those days. No appointments that I could remember. What was it, then?
Home didn’t even feel right. I walked from room to room—not many rooms, and what there was didn’t take more than a few steps to travel from one side to the other. It was off, somehow. The dimensions weren’t right. The bedspread was flowery, when I hadn’t slept under a flowered bedspread since I was little.
I always hated that bedspread. It was ugly and thin. Pointless, really, since it never kept me warm.
My computer was on the desk in the living room, but I couldn’t turn it on. I couldn’t get the TV on, either. That didn’t bother me as much as not being able to access my machine. I performed daily backups but wasn’t in the mood to do an install of the latest one. It would take time out of my day.
Then again, it was already night. There was nothing but darkness outside my window—not even street lights shining down on the park across the street. It must have been a blackout. That would explain not being able to turn on my things.
Shit. I didn’t keep candles in the apartment.
Or did I?
Was this a dream?
Of course. I had to be dreaming. The thought was a comforting one. I sank into the desk chair, a leather one on wheels—I spent enough time in the thing, so it might as well be comfortable. At least it was the same in my dream as in real life.
What a weird place to dream about. I didn’t usually remember my dreams, so as far as I could remember I had never been aware during one that I was actually dreaming.
“I should’ve dreamt about the beach,” I decided, leaning my head against the headrest—then sitting up again when a bright flash of pain almost blinded me.
“What the hell?” I touched ginger fingertips to the back of my head, where the pain had come from.
I couldn’t feel a bump or a cut, but it still hurt. I turned to look at the headrest, thinking something was wrong with it—and found blood smeared over it.
I jumped up on shaking legs, looking around the room in the hopes that something there would help me make sense of what just happened.
“What is happening?” I called out, but there was no echo. I could hardly hear myself.
She is distressed. Something is upsetting her.
I heard the unfamiliar voice, which sounded like it was coming from the next apartment.
“Hello?” I called out, going to the wall which separated us. “Hello? Are you in there? I’m alone in here, and it’s dark. It’s so dark.” There was fear in my voice, and I didn’t know why. I was only dreaming.
Wasn’t I?
It was turning into a nightmare, either way.
Emelie. All is well. Relax.
“Who is that?” I shouted, turning in a circle. It wasn’t coming from the apartment next door anymore. It seemed to be coming from all around me—above, below, all sides.
My heart started to race.
I jumped away from the door when there was a knock. A cold sweat rolled down the back of my neck, my stomach churned. “Who—who is it?” I gasped.
“Emelie. It’s Alan. Please, let me in.”
“Alan?” I knew him. Didn’t I? Or, I should have. I couldn’t remember anything concrete—hair, eyes, face, height—but the name brought back shadows of a memory I couldn’t quite uncover.
“Yes. Alan. I wondered if I could speak with you.”
“Why are you here? Whoever you are?” Damn it, I should know him! He seemed to know me. “How do you know me?”
“Emelie, Keira sent me. She couldn’t come on her own, but she wished for me to find you and speak with you.”
“What’s wrong with Keira?”
There was something wrong with her. I remembered that much. Just not what, exactly. I went to the door, one hand on the lock and the other on the knob.
“Keira is well. She was merely unable to join me. Emelie, please. Let me in. You will understand soon.”
He knew who Keira was. He sounded kind. And hell, it was just a dream! I could wake up whenever I wanted to. With that in mind, I flipped the lock and opened the door.
There was nothing but blank emptiness behind him. Just… nothing. Like he was standing in a void.
And I did know him.
It all came rushing back.
“No. No, how are you here? How is this possible? I’m dreaming about you?” I backed away until the couch cushions hit just behind my knees, tripping me up, sending me falling back on my butt.
And that brought back even more memories. Of backing away from him until there was nothing under my feet but air.
“Where are we?” I asked.
He stood there, sort of smiling. Yes, he was the same Alan as the one I met in Scotland. Tall, hunky, handsome. With that cute little brogue of his.
And a freaking dragon. The reminder started me sweating all over again.
“It’s going to sound strange. Difficult to comprehend.”
“If one more person tells me I’m going to have a hard time understanding something, so help me.”
He surprised me by chuckling, then sat at my desk with the chair turned in my direction. “We’re inside your mind. You took a nasty tumble. Do you remember?”
I nodded.
“And you’ve been asleep since then.”
“How long?”
“Not very. A handful of hours, I suppose.”
“I see. No. I don’t see. I don’t see at all. How can you be in my head?” Then, before he could even open his mouth, “Callie. She did this.”
“Good guess.”
“Because she’s a witch. And so is Keira.” I closed my eyes. “Right. I get it.”
“When you fell unconscious—and I do hope you don’t consider this an invasion of privacy, by the way,” he was quick to mumble, “Callie checked so we might be certain you hadn’t suffered grave injury after hitting your head.”
“I guess an MRI machine is a little much for a witch to concoct out of thin air,” I muttered.
“We could not allow you to suffer without doing anything to help you.”
“I get it.”
“She told us you had built up a defense in your mind,” he continued. “That you did not wish to accept everything you’d learned about us. Abut Keira. And you had retreated here.” He looked around. “Your home?”
“Yes. My apartment. Sort of. I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I don’t know much of anything. Did you ever find out a bunch of things you thought weren’t true all of a sudden were true? And nothing made sense anymore?”
“No. I can honestly say I did not. Though I always believed my clan was impenetrable. Invulnerable. That nothing from the outside world could touch us, because we were smarter and had experience enough to keep ourselves safe. The delusion died a bitter death along with many members of the clan.”
Right. He had mentioned something about helicopters and gunfire and tests. “I’m sorry. That’s terrible.”
“It was, and it put me in the position I’m now in. I still have yet to settle things with the coven. I don’t know that anything will ever be settled, truth be told. Too many years of misunderstandings.” He sat back, frowning, looking more than a little defeated.
“Now that you’re starting to talk again, I bet you can work it out.” It was crazy. With the two of us alone, talking inside my head—something I would maybe one day have to give a little more thought to, but couldn’t just then because it was entirely too weird—I wasn’t afraid of him. Probably because I could have kicked him out of my head if I wanted to.
The idea gave me courage.
“I suppose we can work together, though it will tak
e time before we return to a place where we trust each other once again. I am not Gavin. I only need for Selene to remember that.”
“You have Keira now. Both of you. Maybe she can help bring you together again.” I couldn’t speak of her without the hurt coming through. She wasn’t who I thought she was, and she would never come home with me again. I would be alone forever.
Alan heard it in my voice, evidently, because he tried to make me feel better. “She is still the Keira you knew. She’s so very afraid of you not being able to accept her now.”
“How would you know?”
“We spoke of it. She was quite stricken, really. Told me how she loves you, how you are her sister.”
I shook my head as tears clogged my throat. “I’m not her sister. She’s not human.”
“She is everything she ever was throughout the entirety of your friendship. Nothing about her has changed but the understanding of her parentage. That is all.”
I hated how right he was. It made me feel terrible, like I had deserted her when she needed me most. “I wish I understood you. All of you, I mean. Dragons. You don’t look like one.”
“Not at the moment, no,” he smiled. “But I assure you, I do when I put my mind to it. We don’t hurt humans, Emelie. Put out of your mind all preconceived notions you ever heard about from stories or movies. No fire-breathing, for one.”
“A plus,” I shrugged, for lack of anything better to say. I was sort of new at the whole ‘talking with a dragon’ thing.
“I would never cause you harm. This, I swear.” The intensity with which he looked at me should have been uncomfortable, but it was anything but. A warm, comfortable sensation spread through me. The room even lightened a little, like somebody had flipped a switch.
“I really did hurt her, didn’t I?” I whispered.
“She understands.”
“Did I hurt you? I ran away from you, and you were trying to keep me from doing something stupid like I ended up doing anyway.”