by Ruby Dixon
Of course, I know why. The reason comes out of the building a short time later, her hair pulled into a fresh braid and her cheeks pink as she smiles at me. She smells freshly scrubbed, with the floral scents of the soaps these humans like covering up her good natural sweat scent. Her clothes are changed as well, and in her bag I can smell the last traces of her arousal-scent on her clothing…and something else. Something from inside the store with the mating objects. Curious, I wonder what she brought.
Is it because she plans on mating with me?
Hot need surges through my body and blasts at the mental walls. I close my eyes, grinding a palm against my forehead as I try to concentrate.
Andrea is dangerous in her sweetness. Even her scent reminds me of last night, and the taste of her on my lips. Perhaps I will not even get that, if it weakens my defenses too much. Perhaps I cannot touch her at all. The thought is one that makes my spirit ache.
“Hi,” she says, and there’s an eager, shy note in her voice that rouses my drakoni side. I immediately move closer to her, drinking in her scent, studying the way she moves, the bit of hair she tucks behind her ear. “Got the scent?”
I nod and try to seem normal, composed. “Ready to go? Do you need anything from inside?”
She pats her bags. “I refilled my canteens and grabbed a few trash bags and, uh, some other stuff.” Her cheeks grow pinker. “I’m good, though. How about you?”
“Ready,” I say, and she looks surprised when my tone is a little curt. “I smell rain in the distance,” I explain. “I don’t like the thought of losing Benny’s trail, so we should get going.”
Her soft expression immediately changes to one of worry, and I want to bite off my own tongue for admitting that the trail grows weak. “You might lose his scent?”
“We’ll find him,” I promise her. “I won’t let you lose him.”
She thinks for a moment and then smiles at me, as if my promise has reassured her. “Let’s get going, then.” Andrea hitches her shotgun and pack over her shoulder, and when I point, she heads down the road.
I pause just long enough so I can watch her cocky, adorable swagger, my heart aching.
I need to pull back. Touching Andrea is too dangerous. It makes me want things…things I can’t have.
“Good god, I’ve never seen so many damn rats,” Andrea exclaims as we walk. “They’re everywhere.” She kicks at one that scurries near her boot and steps closer to me.
It takes everything I have not to reach for her, to put my hand to her waist and drag her close. I’m doing my best to keep my distance, so the hunger brewing in the corners of my mind remains distant. I know that one touch and I’m going to lose all control, so I pretend to concentrate on the invisible scent trails that scatter all over the concrete.
We’ve been walking through the city all day, passing old buildings called “casinos” and crossing under broken underpasses. Trash and debris from the remains of the human hive is everywhere, but the stink of them is long faded, except for the thread of Benny’s scent.
Andrea’s not wrong, though. The rats are indeed everywhere. They dart out from under garbage and cross the road ahead of us, peek out from storm drains, and their stink is overwhelming. They’re not clean creatures, these rats, and I get why she’s horrified at the thought of me eating one.
I glance over at my companion, and I notice that she’s walking oddly again. She favors her feet from time to time, trying to hide it from me, but I’ve caught her stumbling and picking at her steps when she thinks I’m not looking.
So I pause at a tree that’s cropped up next to an old red sign with human words on it. “We’ll take a quick break here.”
“I can keep going,” she says defensively. She shakes her head and surges forward, as if to prove me wrong.
“Andrea,” I call out, warning. “I am stopping here.” When she turns to give me a hurt look, I add, “For a few minutes only.”
Her jaw clenches and then she heads back, moving to my side. She sits on the edge of the curb next to me, not looking in my direction. I love her stubbornness, but not when she is in pain.
“Are your feet bothering you?” I ask.
She shakes her head, still ignoring me.
“Shall I remove your boots and check your feet for myself?” I keep my tone teasing, but she shoots me such a glare that I know I’ve struck a nerve. I laugh. “That’s my answer, then. Andrea, if you destroy your feet, I’m going to have to carry you. If we must, we’ll take breaks. We—”
“Every hour that slips away is another hour Benny’s ahead of us.” Her quiet voice makes me stop. “I don’t care if I have two blisters or twenty, but I need to find my brother. I can keep walking.”
I get to my feet, because even though she’s stubborn, I understand her. “Then we’ll keep walking.” I extend my hand to her.
She takes it, and I’m surprised at the surge of lust that washes over me just from the touch of her cool fingers. She casts a smile in my direction, and it takes everything I have not to grab her by her hair and pull her against me. I stay still until she walks past once more, and then follow behind her a few steps.
My reactions to her seem to get stronger with every day that passes. This is…not good for my mental walls. At what point will Andrea destroy them entirely?
11
LIAM
That afternoon, new problems arise.
Storm clouds roll in overhead, changing the scents in the air and making the world around us humid and muggy. Andrea casts a few anxious looks at the dark clouds. “I really don’t want to be rained on.”
I don’t care about the rain. I just worry that it’s going to destroy all traces of Benny’s already thin scent-trail. But I don’t say this aloud because I don’t want to worry Andrea. I’ve promised to bring her brother back and I will.
As the wind shifts, it brings with it new scents, and one is a distant dragon. That might be trouble if it comes any closer, and I say so to Andrea.
“We’ll go for as long as we can, then.” She looks troubled, but she’s also practical. Sore feet she might be able to ignore, but not a dragon in the sky.
So we continue on, and then the rain begins to patter down on us. I stop looking for Benny’s trail and start looking for a shelter nearby as lightning crackles overhead. “Shelter,” I tell her. “Pick one.” I gesture at the fallen buildings around us, but none seem particularly good spots to stay in.
She immediately gestures at one with a big golden sign. “The arches, of course. I used to love eating there as a kid.”
We head toward the building, and I notice there’s a big, windowed area with colorful plastic slides and a pit full of balls that’s also filled up with leaves and debris. Andrea ignores that, though, heading inside where there are tables mounted to the floor and a counter across from them. It doesn’t look all that hospitable—most of the glass windows lining the building have shattered—but it’ll be dry enough.
Andrea moves to one of the tables and sits in the chair, sighing. “Gosh, this brings back memories. I remember how much Benny used to laugh and laugh when I took him out to the slide. And he’d always get a kid’s meal with nuggets. I’d get one too, just so he could have two toys.” She traces a finger through the dust on the tabletop as I move to her side. “I really miss those days. Everything was so simple and the food was so good.”
My hand twitches. I want to touch her shoulder, caress the braid of hair snaking down her back, but I don’t dare. Touching her means giving in to my need, and I have to fight it. “Should we look for food, then?”
“Oh, if there was food here, it’ll be long gone.” She props her chin up on her hand. “But as shelter, this’ll work.”
I grunt a response, and as she tosses her bag onto the table, I move around to check out our surroundings. The area behind the counter smells like old grease. There’s a pair of doors past all the tables, and from experience, I know these are the waste-rooms humans used to relieve themselves. There
’s no doorknob, so I push one swinging door open and I’m surprised at the scents that hit me.
For one, it’s surprisingly clean. I recognize the astringent scent of the cleaning products that they use back at the fort. It’s old and faded, but it still lingers on all the surfaces. Whoever left this place behind wanted it to be left tidy. I also smell Benny here, which means he stopped in this building, and stopped in this room specifically. His scent is all over the stalls, and I flare my nostrils, then head back out of the room and down the hall to another door. This one has no signs on it, and it has a handle on the door, which makes it different than the others. Not a waste-room then. I test the round knob, and it opens easily; it’s been broken. I open the door and it smells like stale cigarette smoke. There are papers all over the desk, and a boxy thing that I’ve been told is a computer…and a small window with wavy, rippled glass. It’s open just a crack, and Benny’s scent leads here. I lean over the desk, pry open the window, and gaze outside. It leads to a few dumpsters and the parking lot, where a few old cars are still parked.
Interesting thing though…there’s a new scent here. A male, and he’s got an animal with him. A hunter? I lean out and Benny’s scent continues outside. He came in this room and left out the window, then.
I pace back out, following the scent. Andrea looks up at me curiously as I head out the double doors at what must be the front of the building, and look around. Benny’s scent is heaviest here. It smells like sweat and human boy and the corn cakes that Andrea nibbles on frequently. I glance around, then move toward a metal contraption that has the familiar, odd scent I’ve been picking up next to Benny’s scent for the last few days. I know a lot of human words, but this one escapes me. It looks like a metal frame of some kind, with two wheels and a set of handles.
“What is it?” Andrea asks.
I gesture at the thing. “This smells like him.”
“A bike! Where did he get that?” She leans forward, checking it over. “Chain’s good and tires have air. No wonder we haven’t been able to catch him.”
“I’ve smelled this,” I say, tapping one of the black wheels. “Ever since we left the fort.”
She swears under her breath. “If he had a bike this whole time, he could be miles and miles ahead of us.” Andrea drops to a crouch and presses a hand to her brow.
I can practically smell the despair on her and it bothers me. I’ve failed her. “It gets worse.”
She lifts her head and looks at me, her eyes shiny and wet. “What is it?”
I take her hand—even though I know I shouldn’t touch her—and lead her inside. I retrace Benny’s steps, taking her along his path. “He came in here,” I say, taking her to the clean waste-room. “And then he went back down the hall and into this second room here.” I take her to the one that smells of stale cigarettes, a stink that I hate more than the perfumes humans like. “He opened the window and that’s when a second smell appears.”
“A second smell?”
“An unfamiliar male. He had a creature with him. It’s possible he was hunting and Benny talked to him. Either way, they left together.”
Her eyes widen and she clenches her hands. “He was meeting someone, wasn’t he? He’s been planning this for a long time.”
I have no answer. I just shrug. “We can follow their trail, see where it leads—”
Thunder crashes overhead, and then the skies open up, letting out a deluge of heavy rain. Andrea’s face falls as the room grows darker around us. I know what she’s thinking. She’s torn between going after Benny and staying here, in the shelter. Her eyes look wet once more.
I put my hands on her shoulders, squeezing. “If you want to go out and keep going, we can.”
Thunder crashes and the skies light up with lightning, as if making a mockery of my words. Andrea stares at me, then shakes her head slowly. “I know it’s not wise. If we both catch colds we’re no good to anyone, and my feet hurt. We’ll stay here tonight.” Her eyes plead up at me. “Do you think he’s all right?”
“I smell no blood,” I admit, and when she gives a trembling nod, I pull her close against me. Touching her is dangerous, but…how can I not? She needs me, and I’m starting to worry that I need her, too.
12
ANDI
The storm crashes overhead with depressing amounts of violence, reiterating the fact that it was smart for us to hide out inside. I know that getting soaked while traveling is bad. I know that I’ll catch a cold, or worse, it’ll ruin my gear. I know it’s smarter to stay inside and wait, because Benny’s likely miles and miles ahead of us and hiding out somewhere warm himself.
Oh, but my heart aches. It doesn’t understand that I want to be out there in the downpour, a few steps closer to finding Benny.
I think Liam gets it, though. His expression is gentle as he rolls out a blanket from his pack and invites me to sit on it in a clean corner of the old fast-food restaurant’s strangely sparkling clean bathroom. It’s the best spot to hide out; the windows are blown out, so a damp breeze constantly comes through, ruffling my hair and making everything feel misty. So we shut the door to the bathroom and sit in the darkness.
I’m quiet, my legs pulled up to my chest as I think about Benny.
My brother met someone out here. He met a stranger, a man, and left with him. I can only think of two possible scenarios—that Benny has had his escape planned for a terribly long time and made plans with one of the random nomads that occasionally passes through the fort. I try to think if there were any Benny took a particular interest in, but I can’t think of anyone.
It’s either that, or someone found my brother here and stole him.
That idea scares me.
A warm hand reaches out in the darkness and grazes my cheek. “Andrea?”
Liam’s voice is like silky, rich butter…and just like butter, he makes my mouth water. “Sorry I’m not very good company tonight. I’m just worried about Benny.”
“You are always good company,” he chides me, and his hand moves to my knee, and then he touches my boot. “I understand fretting over him. You’re allowed to worry.” And he unties my shoelace.
“What are you doing?”
“You said your feet hurt earlier. I am going to rub them for you.”
“Why?” I feel like a doofus for asking, but he’s the first man that’s ever wanted to do something like that that’s just for me, that he gets nothing out of. Of course, I think of last night and how he tongued me until I came and got nothing out of that, too, and my cheeks heat. Maybe that’s his fetish. He gets off on getting me off, or something. But…it’s odd. I’m not sure I like fooling around with someone in such a one-sided manner. It makes me feel like I’m not holding up my half of the bargain, or worse, that he’s not truly interested.
Liam pulls my boot off, though, and then I’m wiggling my foot in my worn, heavily mended sock. I’m glad it’s dark so he can’t see how threadbare it looks. Of course, thinking about this sock makes me think about the socks Benny stole and I feel like crying all over again.
“You’re thinking hard,” he says. “Want to talk about it?”
“What’s there to say?” My voice is hoarse. “Benny’s either in terrible danger or he’s been plotting to leave me because I’m no longer important in his life. That about sums it up.”
He removes my other boot, and then both of my feet are in his lap. His body is insanely warm and when his hands clasp one foot and then the other, it feels like they’re being warmed by heated oven mitts. God, it feels good. “We don’t know what happened with Benny,” he tells me. “You are assuming. Focus on the truths you know and don’t make new worries.”
His fingers rub at the instep of one foot, and my leg jolts in response. I moan. “Oh.”
Liam’s low, sexy chuckle is making me want to rip my panties off. “Feel good?”
“Yeah, but I don’t get why you’re doing it,” I admit.
“I like touching you.” His hands stroke over the
arch of my foot and then rub my other instep. He’s making sure to give attention to each foot equally, and all the aching places seem to ache a little less while he does it.
“But you don’t want me to touch you back,” I venture, almost afraid to hear his answer.
I expect him to protest, to say something that will make me feel better, but he only sighs. That lone sound hangs in the air for a moment, and then he finally speaks.
"I owe you the truth."
"That'd be nice," I say nervously. I feel the urge to pull my feet out of his grip, but he hasn't let go of me yet. Is this truth going to be bad? Something in me suspects that it will be. That he doesn't really like me. That what we did last night was some sort of manipulation and it didn't mean anything to him…and that might break me. "What's going on?"
Liam's fingers move on my foot. "You obsess me, Andrea."
That…wasn't what I was expecting to hear. "You make that sound bad."
"It is for me."
I wait for him to continue, because I want to—need to—know what he's talking about. I'm afraid if I speak, I'll derail the conversation. So I wait in the darkness, hoping that he'll start talking before my nervous sweat becomes overwhelming.
"I am not like other drakoni," Liam begins. "You know this. I shut off the part of my mind that connects my spirit to the others of my people that are here. That's the only way I've managed to stay sane while they fight madness. But because of that, I've had to be very careful with myself. I cannot let anything threaten my control, because if it does, I could lose everything."
A funny feeling starts in the pit of my stomach. I have an idea of where this conversation is headed, and I don't like it. Is this the dragon version of “it's not you, it's me” and he's going to let me down nicely? I should have expected it. There are no good guys in the After, there are only disappointments. "I see."