by Susan Illene
A lump formed in my throat. I’d already lost my stepfather recently. The last thing I wanted was to lose my biological father, especially when I still hadn’t gotten a chance to know him. I’d been looking forward to him visiting for Christmas, but not like this with him wounded and unconscious in my living room.
“What happened?” I asked, pulling my gaze away.
Earl stood on my right. “He just showed up about an hour ago at my house. Danae wanted to treat him right there, but he insisted on us bringin’ him to his daughter’s home even though I told him you wouldn’t be here yet. All I know is he ran into those rogues you’ve been huntin’ and it didn’t go well.”
“They are not your average dragons,” Aidan said, standing on the other side of me.
Earl rubbed at his gray beard, which he’d let grow to almost six inches. “I heard that from Conrad. He said the two of you had a tough time with them.”
“That would be an understatement.” I shook my head. “I’d hoped they’d stay away until after Christmas at the very least.”
Earl grunted. “Those dragons don’t care about holidays.”
Aidan tensed, and I grabbed his hand, speaking before he could, “We just came from a holiday celebration with dragons. They care, but it could be that the rogues don’t give a damn, or they’re pissed off about being kicked out of their clan and looking to take it out on anyone they find.”
“You’re implyin’ they have feelings.”
I sighed, frustrated. “Everyone has feelings, Earl. Cats and dogs even have feelings—which you know very well since I see you out feeding and talking to the strays sometimes—so don’t pretend like dragons aren’t capable of it.”
“They eat people. They wouldn’t do that if they had feelings or a soul for that matter,” he argued.
Was I really having to defend dragons when my primary purpose in life was to kill them? “Not all of them eat people. And anyway, do you feel bad when you eat chicken or beef? Those animals died so you could have a meal, but I seriously doubt you thought once about how they might have felt about it.”
“That’s different.”
“Will you two shut up?” Danae glared at us.
I stilled. Somehow, Earl had gotten me so worked up I’d forgotten about my father lying on the couch in front of me seriously injured. Who was being the callous one now? Aidan and I moved over to the loveseat by the fireplace and sat down to wait. Though Wayne twitched occasionally, he hadn’t opened his eyes once since I’d arrived. It must have taken all he had to reach Earl’s house and then insist on coming here. Why he couldn’t have stayed there, I didn’t know.
Danae continued to work for another twenty minutes until she collapsed from exhaustion. Aidan and I carried her over to the loveseat and set her down. I went and grabbed some of the regular blankets I kept in the linen closet and brought them back to cover Danae and my father. Someone—probably Earl—had gotten a fire started in the fireplace, but there was still a chill in the air. Danae curled into her blanket, eyes tightly shut. Considering it was getting close to midnight, I suspected she wouldn’t wake up until morning.
“Thanks for bringing them here,” I said, breaking my silence with Earl.
He nodded. “It was no trouble.”
“Do you want something to drink or eat?” I asked.
“Nah, I should get back home. Ain’t much use in me stickin’ around, and it’s gettin’ late.” He headed for the door. “It was good seein’ ya, Bailey.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. “You too, Earl.”
After he left, I sat on the coffee table next to my father, wanting to watch over him in case he woke up. Only once, for a single minute, did he open his eyes. His gaze settled on me, recognition reflecting on his face.
“Good. You’re home,” he said and began coughing hard.
I had a glass of water ready and picked it up. “Drink this.”
He lifted his head and gulped down half of it before nudging it away. “You and I are going on a father-daughter hunting trip,” he croaked. “Soon.”
Before I could reply, he fell back asleep. It occurred to me then that he’d insisted on being brought to my house because the only way he was going to feel safe while wounded and vulnerable was if he had another slayer to watch over him. As his daughter, I was an even better option. The only problem? He still hadn’t figured out I was living with Aidan yet.
Chapter 13
Bailey
I carried an apple, bowl of oatmeal, and a glass of water over to my father. He’d slept through the night and into the early afternoon before finally waking up thirty minutes ago. Aidan was out chopping wood, for which I was grateful. He’d hear Wayne’s voice from out there and know to wait a bit before coming inside. This situation had to be handled very carefully.
“Here you go,” I said, setting my breakfast offering down on the coffee table and stepping back.
Wayne glanced down at the oatmeal and lifted a brow. “Is this what you eat every day?”
“Yeah.”
“I like oatmeal, too.” He had a deep timbre to his voice. According to my mother, he was half Cherokee Indian and grew up near Tahlequah in the northeastern part of Oklahoma. That must have been why he chose Tulsa for hunting—closer to home.
Danae sipped at her cup of coffee. She’d helped me make it in the kitchen before coming back out to join my father. He’d let her do a minor healing of his head and ankle but refused to let her exhaust herself again. Danae had slept almost as long as him after all the energy she expended the night before. I kept waiting for Miles to show up, but he hadn’t come by so far. Earl must have explained the situation when he went back to their neighborhood.
“If you want anything else,” I said, shifting from foot to foot. “I have a few other things in the kitchen I could bring. There should still be some rolls—if Danae didn’t eat them all.” I glanced her way, and she shrugged. My friends had a habit of coming over and eating my food when I wasn’t looking.
Wayne shook his head. “This is enough for now. I’ve got a good supply in my truck once I get back to it.”
I was guessing he’d left his vehicle at Earl’s. “We can take you to get it once you’re ready.”
“Oh, and there’s a Christmas Eve celebration downtown today,” Danae said, perking up. “You guys definitely have to go to that.”
Wayne finished chewing a bite of his apple. “My daughter and I need to hunt.”
“The dragons could be anywhere,” I argued. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go out with him since I actually looked forward to fighting at my father’s side, but Wayne was still not in very good shape. He needed at least another day to heal before he could face the rogues again. “I think the best idea is to stay close to the human population since most of the town will be at the celebration and need our protection.”
My father narrowed his eyes. “Did you stop giving Javier dragon scales to use for his barrier spells?”
Damn, I was totally busted. My first real conversation with my father, unless I counted the time I talked him out of killing Aidan, and he’d already called me out. How did he know about that, anyway? I regularly exchanged dragon scales Javier could use to keep green dragons out of downtown in return for credits to buy things from him. The sorcerer had hoarded just about any kind of food and supplies one could imagine.
“Yeah, but this is our first Christmas together,” I said, giving him the same pleading look I’d given my mother a million times. He was my long-lost father who’d come a long way to see me, so it was worth a shot. “Surely we can spare a few hours before going hunting. The thing with Javier starts a couple of hours before sunset, and no one has reported seeing the rogues before dark.”
“Where is the shifter?” he asked, glancing around.
I cleared my throat. “What shifter?”
“The one who lives here.” My father frowned at me, not appearing angry as much as annoyed. “Your ability to hide things needs work.”
“Oh, you mean that shifter—Aidan is outside chopping wood. How did you know he lived here?” I paused, realization hitting me. “You smelled him, didn’t you?”
His nose twitched. “Both of your scents are strong and mixed together all over this place. I noticed it as soon as I arrived last night.”
“And you still stayed?” I was trying to put everything together in my head, but it was hard to imagine Wayne had figured out so much before I even got home. He’d been gravely injured and still able to take in a lot of details.
He sipped at his water, avoiding my gaze. “The last time I saw you it was clear you loved him by the way you defended him. A blind man could see the attraction between you two. I might be getting old, but I’m not a fool.”
“You’re not that old,” I said, frowning at him. He looked like he was in his forties, though with his tan leathery skin he could have appeared a little older in the right lighting.
“I appreciate that, but I’m almost sixty years old.” He sat back on the couch, finished with his meal. “We just don’t age after our rite of passage.”
Which meant when I’d been conceived, he would have been in his late thirties.
“How long were you in Kederrawien before you became a full slayer?” I had so many questions for him that it was hard to choose which ones to ask first. He hadn’t even said how many days he’d be staying yet.
Wayne rubbed his chin. “About six or seven years. I resisted it for a long time and stayed with a group of sorcerers who allowed me to avoid the dragons. But after a friend was killed, I realized I couldn’t fight my destiny anymore. I trained for the next year after that before making my first kill.”
“Wow, that’s a long time.” I moved to sit next to him on the couch. “I went through my rite of passage three months after the dragons arrived.”
He glanced toward the window where the curtains were still drawn shut. “You had help. As much as I do not like to admit it, the shifter has trained you well. Few slayers survive their first few months if they do not have the right guidance.”
Something told me that was a big admission for him. I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact my father hadn’t leaped up and gone to kill Aidan the moment he woke up. For someone famous for killing dragons, he was showing remarkable restraint. Of course, if he did hurt Aidan I’d never speak to him again. Maybe Wayne knew that and didn’t want to destroy his chance to get to know me this soon after our meeting. He had shown self-control last time when he ran into Aidan. My father could have easily killed him before I got there to stop him, but he hadn’t even wounded him. If Wayne had no intention of slaying Aidan, why attack him at all? Had he been testing him because he’d figured out our relationship even back then? Or was he planning something else? My stomach twisted at the thought.
“How do you know so much about me?” Since the first time I’d seen him months ago, it was clear he knew who I was despite us never meeting before.
“I have my sources.”
I took a deep breath. “You’re not going to kill Aidan, are you?”
“He would not be alive now if I wanted him dead.”
That was a comforting thought, which wouldn’t keep me up at night for the next few months. “So you’re okay with him?”
Wayne grunted. “I would not go that far, but he appears to make you happy, and he has kept you safe when I could not.” He met my gaze, irony in his eyes. “I also suspect you would never speak to me again if I killed your shifter.”
I nodded. “You’d be right, but I still worried you…you wouldn’t be able to hold back.”
“Why is that?”
“I’ve heard you’re ruthless against dragons,” I admitted.
He gave me a wry smile. “I am, but I’ve also learned when to attack and when to wait—or not fight at all. Slayers who attack without discipline do not survive long.”
“Yeah,” I said, then paused. “But don’t you usually kill shifters, too?”
My father was quiet a moment. “I killed every dragon I could in the beginning, but eventually I realized I’d never rest if I did not select my targets carefully. It is only if I view a shifter as a threat that I attack.”
“You and that other guy attacked Aidan and his sister and uncle,” I pointed out.
“But we did not kill them. Sometimes a point needs to be made.”
Sort of like what I’d done when I dueled Lorcan the day before. “I get that.”
“But if your shifter does anything I don’t like, I might still kill him.” He patted my knee. “But not on Christmas.”
It was good to know my father could draw the line somewhere.
Aidan came through the front door. I wouldn’t have put it past him to have listened in on our whole conversation and waited until the right moment to come inside. There’d been no telltale sounds of wood chopping for a while now.
“Your mate is here,” Aidan informed Danae.
She hopped up from the loveseat. “Thanks. It’s about time to get going anyway if I want to get ready for the Christmas thing downtown.” She directed her attention to Wayne. “It was nice meeting you.”
My father got up and shook her hand. “I appreciate your help.”
“I’d say anytime, but I’d rather you didn’t get hurt again.” She gestured at me. “Your daughter keeps me busy enough.”
Wayne looked at me with pride. “She is already a better fighter than I was four months into slaying dragons. Before long, she won’t need you as often.”
“That’s good to know,” Danae said, then waved at us and left.
“So how about that Christmas party?” I asked.
“You two could ride together.” Aidan stepped closer to us, but still used the couch as a barrier. “I have something to take care of first and will have to meet Bailey there anyway.”
Wayne was silent for a moment, considering. “Very well, but we hunt after that.”
“It’s a deal,” I said, relieved he’d finally agreed.
***
“Wow, it’s even more crowded than I expected,” I said, dodging around a group of people going the opposite way on the sidewalk.
My father stepped onto the street to avoid them. “I do not like crowds.”
The implication was clear—he’d only come because I’d asked him. After how things went when we’d first met, particularly with him saving me from dying and then taking off before I could talk to him, I hadn’t expected him to make much of an effort. Yet he was trying. First, he’d accepted Aidan enough not to kill him, and then he’d agreed to go to a Christmas Eve celebration with me despite not wanting to go. Was this his way of making it up to me for not being around for more than two decades of my life? If so, it was working. I’d built up so many horrible scenarios in my head for how his visit might play out that things were going far better than I’d imagined.
“How’s your ankle?” I asked. The swelling and bruising had gone down a lot after Danae did another healing for him a couple of hours before, but he still walked with a slight limp. The bump on his head was completely gone though, and so was his shoulder wound. Danae had put a lot more effort into healing those.
My father gave me a look of consternation. “It will be fine.”
“Okay, good.” I wasn’t going to push my luck any further on getting him to take it easy. At least with him at the celebration, he wouldn’t be out hunting and fighting dragons for a little while longer.
We made it onto Main Street where most of the festivities were taking place. My eyes rounded, taking in all the Christmas lights strung across every store and around the light poles. The sky was cloudy, making them easier to see despite it still being daytime. Javier must have hoarded a lot of fuel and used a few generators to run that many lights. Normally, I would have been against wasting resources like that but for our first Christmas since the apocalypse—and after suffering through so many dragon attacks—w
e needed something extra to boost our spirits.
Children raced along the street, going from activity booth to activity booth. They could get their faces painted, make wreaths, throw balls at a dunking tank where Javier himself sat, already soaking wet. It was a good thing the weather had warmed up to almost sixty, or he might have had to worry about catching a cold. Did sorcerers get sick? Since Danae had gotten her powers, I hadn’t noticed her ever getting ill, but she was also a healer.
Wayne sniffed and pointed up the street. “I believe the food is that way.”
Aidan was supposed to be coming soon, and I’d told him we’d be somewhere close to the feast Javier had promised. The aroma of turkey, ham, stuffing, and a whole lot of other foods wafted strongly toward us. My breakfast of oatmeal had staved off the worst of my hunger, but my stomach growled at the temptation of something better.
“Yep, let’s go.”
We walked down the middle of Main Street toward Javier’s Bar and Grill. The road had been blocked off from traffic even though half the town came by the buses the sorcerer sent out. He didn’t want anyone to miss the celebration due to transportation problems. His tactics had worked because there had to be hundreds of people on the street alone, and many more inside the downtown buildings he’d opened up for various activities—some for children and some for adults. My father and I passed by one storefront where two scantily-clad women waved at us through the floor-to-ceiling window. I gawked at them before turning away—that was new.
My father laughed. “Javier enjoys building wealth any way he can get it. He was the same way in Kederrawien.”
“So you knew him before?” I asked.
“Yes.” He nodded. “We lived in the same area.”
“Were you the one giving him dragon scales before I started doing it?” The more time I spent with my father, the more puzzle pieces I began to put together.
Wayne glanced at me. “Even slayers must eat, and there was little food to be had. I did what I must to survive just as you have here.”