city of dragons 02 - fire storm

by Val St. Crowe

  “Um…” I took a deep breath. “I could try, I guess.”

  “Good,” she said. “And if I can take care of myself, you’ll stop being my babysitter?”

  “Felicity…”

  “Come on,” she said.

  I sighed. I nodded. “Okay, fine.”

  She smiled. She looked me over. “Oh, this dress is awesome.”

  “It’s too much,” I said. “I think I should try on the black one.”

  Felicity shrugged. “Okay, try it on, but this one looks hard to top for me. And I think Lachlan would like it too.” She winked.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I wore the black one.

  Because I didn’t want to be flashy at all. I wanted to blend in, to be wallpaper who asked questions. I didn’t want to be recognized right away, even though I’d be mixing it up with my former peers.

  And whatever was going on with Lachlan and me, I didn’t feel like it was wise to exacerbate it by wearing a sexy dress or doing anything that might distract him or make him think unclearly.

  I was sure that Lachlan could handle it if I wore a sexy dress, and it wasn’t as if I thought so highly of my own appearance that I thought the burgundy dress would make him lose his mind or something, but I still felt more comfortable this way.

  Maybe it was the specter of Alastair hanging over me.

  I remembered once, I had been positively exhausted after a party, but I’d been wearing this dress that I had picked out specifically for him, because I knew it was the kind of thing that he liked.

  It was rare that I was too tired for sex with Alastair, because the dragon-mating bond made me some kind of crazy horny freak. But I had been wiped out that night. I’d had too much to drink as well, and I had the spins.

  And he just wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  I shoved the memory from my mind.

  Fuck Alastair. Fuck him for ruining everything, for making me crazy and paranoid and damaged. In that moment, I only wanted to cry.

  “Hey,” said a voice.

  I turned to see Connor coming into the lobby. He was wearing his uniform because he was about to start his shift. “Hi,” I said.

  “You all right?”

  I squared my shoulders, forcing a smile. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” he said. “About going back to see all those people you left behind.”

  I shook my head. “I’m fine. I’m just having trouble with these earrings.” I held them up. They were dangly, and they didn’t have back clasps, just long hook-shaped wires that went into my ears. I always had trouble getting them in.

  “Let me try,” said Connor, holding out a hand.

  “I doubt that’s going to go better,” I said.

  “I know a trick,” he said. “I learned it from this guy I dated who was a drag queen.” He disappeared for a moment and then came back with some Vaseline.

  “Connor—”

  “What?” he said. “Everything goes in better with a little lube.”

  I shut my eyes. “Oh, God, the images you have just put in my mind.”

  He laughed, taking one of the earrings from me. He coated the wire with a bit of Vaseline and then handed it back to me.

  I attempted to put it in, and it slid right through the hole in my ear. “Wow, that worked.”

  “Told you. Lube,” said Connor, holding out his hand for the other earring.

  “Stop saying that,” I said.

  He just giggled.

  Once I had both of the earrings in, I surveyed myself in the mirror. The earrings looked nice. I looked nice, I had to admit. I hadn’t gotten dressed up and pretty for a long time. It felt strange to me now, even though it was something I used to do all the time.

  “I think it would be totally normal to be nervous,” said Connor.

  I turned back to him. “Yeah?” I whispered.

  The door to the lobby opened, and Lachlan came in. He was wearing a suit, just like always, but he had on a dark dress shirt and tie. The look wasn’t exactly monochromatic. There were slight changes in color, but overall, it was very chic and sleek. He eyed me, taking me in. A smile crept over his face.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “You look nice,” he said. “You clean up good, Penny Caspian.”

  “You don’t look so bad yourself,” I said, lifting my chin. Why did I feel like I was in the middle of a sparring session? My pulse started to pick up speed. Maybe going to this party had been a bad idea.

  I’d thought that it would be good somehow. That being in a pretty dress would be like armor, and that I’d be back in my element, and I’d be untouchable. But the truth was that I felt like a fish out of water, and it only reminded me of the woman I used to be. That woman had been vulnerable—to Alastair, to her own fears—and I was stronger now. I suddenly felt as if I was moving backwards.

  I looked back at Connor, almost as if he could save me.

  But Connor was just checking out Lachlan.

  Lachlan was still staring at me.

  Yeah, I was glad I’d worn the black dress. “We should go,” I said, hurrying past him. “We’ll be late.”

  “Isn’t late good at events like this?” Lachlan drawled, catching me by the arm. He stopped my movement.

  Now we were close. He was touching me, and I was looking up at his face—his prominent cheekbones and his piercing eyes. My breath hitched.

  He grinned at me, looking relaxed and casual.

  I tensed. I’d seen him use this very tactic against the people he interrogated, getting them to drop their guard and do what he wanted them to do. I didn’t understand how this had happened. How was it that I was on edge, and he was so calm?

  “If we’re too early, we’ll be conspicuous, right?” he murmured.

  “We’re not going to be early,” I said, but my voice was barely there, as if it had been stripped away from me.

  “I wouldn’t think the younger dragon set would get there until the party was well underway.” His voice was practically a purr, and he was so close that I could smell him.

  “It is,” I managed. “It started two hours ago.” I tried to move away from him, but he was still holding my arm.

  He nodded once, slowly. “You planned to arrive late. Told me to be here later.”

  I nodded. “Let go of me,” I whispered.

  He licked his lips. He didn’t let go.

  “Get a room, guys,” said Connor.

  Lachlan smirked, turning to Connor. “Nice to see you, Mr. Beckett.”

  “You too, Detective,” said Connor, winking.

  Lachlan laughed. “Well, then, Penny, let’s go.” His hand moved from my arm to the small of my back, and he propelled me towards the door, which he opened with his other hand. He gestured with his head.

  I walked through the door ahead of him.

  He followed me.

  I hesitated, looking back at him.

  He caught up, hands on my body again. His fingers skimmed my waist. His mouth at my ear. “You look beautiful,” he breathed.

  I shut my eyes.

  He pointed. “Car’s there.” Then he was walking away from me, loping off toward the car as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  I, on the other hand, couldn’t stop the pounding of my heart.

  * * *

  “Everyone liked Fletcher,” said Anya Sheffield, a dragon who couldn’t have been much older than twenty-two. She kept fiddling with the stirrer in her drink and running her teeth over her bottom lip.

  Lachlan was inches from her, leaning across her table, staring into her eyes as if she was the most important thing on earth. “Everyone? Was this guy a saint or something?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

  Anya giggled. “Oh, God, no. He had a real problem with drugs.”

  Lachlan had been doing this all night. I hung back and watched while he let girls flirt with him, and asked them questions about Fletcher.

  I wasn’t jealous.

  It wasn’t as if he had
any actual interest in girls like Anya. And I was noticing subtle differences between the way he manipulated people and the way he interacted with me. This was an act, and he was genuine with me. So, it wasn’t jealousy I was feeling. It was…

  Well, I was annoyed that he was so proficient at this.

  My expectations for the evening had been turned on their head. I had expected that this would be my time to shine, because I would know the ins and outs of the culture here, and that I’d take the lead and Lachlan would follow.

  But Lachlan wasn’t really a follower.

  He wasn’t exactly a leader, either.

  He was more… a loner.

  “Speed, right?” said Lachlan.

  Anya bit down on her lower lip. “Maybe speed. But mostly smack, I think. Last party I saw him at? It was his parents’ anniversary, and he was out of it. Just sprawled out on one of the couches, his tie loosened, his eyes half-closed. He was like rubbing one of the couch cushions.” She shook her head. “That’s not speed, right?”

  “Heroin.” Lachlan sat back in his chair, moving away from Anya. He looked up at me. “Is that a typical party drug amongst dragons?”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t think so.”

  He turned back to Anya. “You ever do it?” He made it sound like it would be perfectly all right with him if she wanted to admit it.

  “No,” said Anya, sounding almost disappointed in herself. “Too chicken to try hard stuff like that.”

  Lachlan patted her hand. “Good girl.” He stood up, straightening his jacket. “Thanks for your time, Anya.”

  I had a drink I’d been twirling with my fingers. Now I took a big gulp.

  Lachlan moved close to me. “So, heroin. Maybe he overdosed somewhere? Maybe it wasn’t a murder at all.”

  “You really think so?” I said.

  “I don’t know. Everyone’s saying the same thing. He was well-liked, but people felt sorry for him, or they worried about him, because he partied so hard.”

  “Yeah, he does seem to be going above and beyond the expected parameters of dragon partying. And that’s not easy to do,” I said.

  “Hmm.” Lachlan rubbed his chin.

  We were quiet for a few moments.

  “So, you’re right at home here,” I said.

  He gave me a confused look. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing,” I said, feeling stupid for having brought it up. “I just didn’t realize that you’d be so… comfortable at a party like this.”

  He shrugged, looking around the vast room. There were elegant light fixtures that dropped from the ceiling over tables decorated with roses and lilies and black silk tablecloths. A string quartet played in the corner, and there were servants moving through the room carrying trays of appetizers and drinks. “Not comfortable. I hate stuff like this.”

  “Really? You’d never know it.”

  “I thought you’d be more comfortable,” he said. “This is your arena.”

  “I thought so too.” I looked down into my drink. “But it actually isn’t my arena. Not anymore.”

  “Well, we can get out of here soon,” he said. He nodded to the other side of the room. “Those guys with Fletcher’s brother, Finn? Let’s try to get them away from Finn and ask them some questions. Then I think we call it a night.”

  “You sure?” I said.

  “Yeah, definitely,” he said.

  * * *

  “Fletcher?” said the friend of Finn’s, whose name was Booth. “Yeah, we used to be close. When we were kids, we all hung out together, but since we all came of age, we’ve drifted apart. Fletcher was into different stuff than us. He was kind of crazy.” He cocked his head. “Hey, why do you ask? I mean, a slayer got him, right?”

  “Maybe not,” said Lachlan. “I’m with the police. We’re looking into it.”

  Booth turned to me. “You’re, uh, that chick who left her mate, aren’t you?”

  I sighed. “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Cool,” he said, grinning at me. “That mating stuff’s so weird. It’s like it turns you into a different person. We all think it’s awesome you left.”

  “All?” I said, perking up.

  “Yeah, all of the younger dragons I hang with.”

  I was feeling a bit better already. I decided to throw out a question since things were going so well. “You and Fletcher drifted apart, but there wasn’t any bad blood between you?”

  “No way.”

  “Or between Fletcher and anyone you knew?” I said.

  “Well, I mean, Finn was always pissed at him. But they were brothers. Brothers fight.”

  Lachlan perked up. “Fight? What do you mean fight?”

  “Well,” said Booth. “They’re twins, right, and Fletcher is only a few minutes older, but he was still going to inherit everything. Their dad was still grooming Fletcher to take over the company and everything. And Finn didn’t think that made any sense, especially considering how Fletcher was seriously losing it. He had a lot of problems with drugs, and their dad just kept throwing Fletcher into rehab, thinking that was going to solve everything.”

  “So, with Fletcher out of the way, then Finn will be the one to take over the company?” said Lachlan.

  “Well, yeah, I guess,” said Booth. “But that doesn’t… I mean, the way you put that, it almost sounds like you think Finn could have hurt his brother, and that never would have happened. No way. Finn loved his brother.”

  * * *

  Lachlan loosened his tie and set his legs up on one of the sun chairs by the newly-filled pool at my hotel. “That’s motive is all I’m saying.”

  I was coming back with two glasses of wine. I handed one to him and sat down. “You’re all over this brother thing, and I don’t know if I see it.”

  “It’s coming together,” he said. “And let’s not forget that last time, I had a feeling about Anthony Barnes, and I was freaking right.”

  “But you were convinced it was the vampires at The Dungeon.”

  “Oh yeah, it probably is.” He took a drink of his wine.

  “Admit it,” I said. “You don’t know who did it yet.”

  “Not yet,” he said. “And it might not even be a murder. Maybe he’s still alive. Maybe he ran away. Maybe he overdosed. Maybe he committed suicide. Maybe—”

  “Yeah, maybe he turned into a unicorn,” I said, laughing.

  He snorted. “Oh, come on. You’re being ridiculous.”

  “A little bit.” I shrugged. I grinned at him.

  He grinned back.

  Then we both looked down into our wine glasses.

  I looked up, but not at him. I peered out at the pool, glistening in the moonlight, at the dark beach beyond it, and the ocean, inky black in the darkness. “It was strange being back there. I didn’t like it.”

  “You fit right in,” he said.

  “No.” I studied my knuckles. “I used to fit in, but I’m different now. You know how they say you can always go home. Well, it’s not true.”

  He was quiet.

  I listened to the sound of the ocean in the distance, a muted roar.

  “I wouldn’t go back to Texas, that’s for sure,” he said quietly.

  I drank some wine.

  “You know, maybe sometimes you just have to make a new home,” he said. “And that’s what you’ve done. This hotel, your gargoyle—”

  “He’s not my gargoyle.” I glared at him.

  But he was grinning, as if he’d said it just to rile me up.

  I understood. He was trying to lighten the mood. It was true that it sometimes seemed like constant teeth on edge between the two of us, especially lately.

  “I just mean,” he continued, “that you’ve made a place for yourself here. You’ve risen from the ashes like a phoenix. You’re amazing, you know that?”

  I blushed, looking away. “You’ve made a home for yourself here too.”

  “Nah, I just have a place to crash and an interesting job to keep myself busy.”

&nb
sp; I looked up at him again. “It isn’t that bad, is it? I mean, sometimes you’re happy, aren’t you?”

  He didn’t answer. He was just gazing at me, a small smile playing on his lips. When he spoke again, his voice was all deep rumbles. “You know what I’ve been thinking about ever since I saw you in that dress?”

  “No,” I said quietly. What if I’d worn the burgundy dress?

  “Kissing you.” His tone was a little gruff. “Damned hard to concentrate, honestly.”

  “Well, you hide it well,” I said, but my pulse was starting to race again. I couldn’t look at him.

  “That an accusation?” He sounded amused.

  “I…” I took a drink of wine. “I thought we were taking things slow.”

  “Yeah,” he said in a deep voice. He reached over and took the wine glass out of my hands and set it down. “But we could probably move on to holding hands or something at this point.” He ran his fingers over the inside of my palm.

  It made me feel shivery. My insides twisted.

  He leaned closer to me.

  I leaned closer too. Now our faces were only inches apart.

  “I’m afraid of this,” he said softly.

  “I’m afraid too,” I said. “But I think that’s only because it’s worth doing, you know?”

  He laughed—a soft, bitter sound. “I’m worthless, Penny.”

  “No, you aren’t,” I said.

  He rested his forehead against mine. “I don’t know why you don’t run away from me. Far away.”

  “I’m not afraid,” I said. “Not of you, not of anything. Kiss me.”

  His lips parted.

  “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Oh, I don’t know—”

  “Don’t answer that,” I said quickly.

  He laughed. His voice dipped lower. It was gravelly. “Close your eyes.”

  I obeyed, and suddenly, I could feel my pulse pounding everywhere—my wrists, my temples, my chest…

  His lips met mine.

  It was perfect. Slow and good. Easy and sweet.

  His arms slipped around me, pulling me to him.

  I scooted to the edge of my chair to close the gap between us. Our upper bodies pressed against each other. I could feel his heat radiating through the layers of his suit. I could smell him, and he smelled like aftershave and him. I knew his scent now, and it was familiar and good, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.