by Anna Lewis
The man never looked away as he strode toward her, and Amaya matched him. As he grew closer, his scent again filled her nostrils but there was something else under the salt and fire, an un-nameable musk that hinted at tobacco, or perhaps the last dregs of a bottle of Malbec. Amaya wondered if this was the last thing she would smell before she died.
When the stranger was close enough to touch her, he extended one roughened hand and ran his finger down her cheek, smoothing an auburn strand away from her tear-stained cheeks. Amaya hoped the moisture was from the wind, not fear. She did not know what fate the man had in store for her, but she’d be damned if she was going to let him see her cry.
After a few long seconds, the man broke Amaya’s gaze.
“Huh,” he observed, flicking his eyes up and down her bound figure. “You’re not a goat at all.”
***
There wasn’t time enough for Amaya to form an answer a before a new voice sounded from behind her.
“No, Raeph,” this voice said, golden and clear. “She’s not a goat. You of all people should know that.”
Amaya already learned her lesson about trying to see behind her, so she simply watched the black-haired man, Raeph. His eyes narrowed and he took a sharp step back, away from her and away from the stranger, before he covered up his obvious distaste with a lopsided grin.
“Endres! First son of Clan Solas!” Raeph said. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for you: my father warned me you might show up. Although I didn’t expect to see quite so much of you.”
Raeph shrugged and grinned. “It’s always such a pain in the ass to pack a change of clothes, isn’t it? I hate trying to manage luggage when I fly in.”
Fly? Amaya’s brain spun wildly.
“I didn’t hear you arrive, Endres. How did you get up here?”
“I took the stairs, like a normal person,” Endres had finally stepped around the back of the altar, and Amaya breathed in sharply at the sight of him. If the naked dark-haired man, Raeph, was ruggedly attractive, this other one, Endres, was dazzling. White blond hair drooped over his forehead, lightly stirred by the cool night breeze. He was impeccably dressed in a gray silk suit that clung to him lovingly. The newcomer didn’t deign to look at Amaya, but instead kept his eyes on Raeph.
“Ah, but you’re not a normal person, Endres,” Raeph retorted.
“Neither are you.”
“And I don’t pretend to be, do I?”
Endres took in a sharp breath and exhaled slowly. “Do you mean to pick a fight with me every time we meet, Raeph?”
“I don’t know. Maybe if you graced me with your company more than once every century—“
“Oh please, you know my family isn’t welcome in your inner-circle—“
“And whose fault is that?!”
“The fault of every clan who shunned us after our fortunes turned,” Endres snapped.
The two men instantly fell to squabbling, Amaya completely forgotten.
“Excuse me,” Amaya hazarded. Although one was naked and the other dressed like a Hugo Boss model, neither man seemed an immediate threat. Perhaps they could take a break from their arguing to help her escape. “Excuse me!” she repeated, louder this time.
Both men turned to her, eyes wide, as if they’d forgotten she was there.
“The goat speaks,” said Raeph.
“I’m not a goat,” Amaya replied.
“She’s not a goat,” Endres said. “We’ve been over this.”
Raeph frowned at him. “Well, I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect, that I’m taking a little poetic license here.”
Time was running out. “I don’t mean to be rude and I’m sure you have perfectly good reasons for being on my rooftop and making weird goat jokes at my expense, but could one of you please do me a huge favor and help me get loose? Please?”
Raeph and Endres simply stared.
“My father did, I don’t know, something to me and left me out here,” Amaya continued. “I don’t know if he meant it as a joke or a life lesson or a—“
“Ceremonial sacrifice?” Endres finished.
Ceremonial sacrifice. Amaya was suddenly too aware of the silver cords digging into her bound wrists and ankles, the cool silk of her white evening gown, the auspiciousness of the date: the Winter Solstice.
“A what now?” she asked weakly.
“Ceremonial sacrifice,” Raeph spoke this time, a mocking bite to his words. “It’s typically a goat. But, hey, whatever. I’ll accept a girl instead.”
Neither man appeared to be armed. There were no knives in hand or ceremonial daggers tucked into belts. Honestly, Amaya couldn’t even begin to imagine where Raeph would be hiding a weapon, and the smooth lines of Endres’ suit betrayed no sign of a hidden knife.
It had to be a joke, had to be. Amaya laughed, trying to stifle her crippling fear with a show of bravado. “And what exactly am I being sacrificed to, gentleman? The Sacred Brotherhood of Nudity and Calvin Klein?”
Endres frowned at her feeble attempt at humor, but Raeph grinned even wider and leaned into Amaya’s space until they were also nose-to-nose. His teeth were astonishingly white, she noticed, very white, perfectly straight, and unusually sharp looking.
“No, little goat,” Raeph whispered. “You’re being offered up to the dragon.”
***
The fat winter moon hung over the city, casting pale light down on the rooftop of the Bond Building. The silver ropes glittered in the cold moonlight and the chill winter wind tugged at the white silk of Amaya’s gown.
The two men stared at her intently; Raeph still leaning into Amaya, Endres looming behind. They seemed to be waiting for her to react.
A good businessman has to have a great poker face, her father had always told her. It was time to put Amaya’s to the test.
“There’s no such thing as dragons,” she said coolly, returning Raeph’s gaze.
One black eyebrow shot up in surprise. “Oh really?” he sneered.
“Oh no, here we go,” Endres muttered from behind him.
Amaya was about to retort, but there was a booming sound–as if a large quantity of air had very quickly been displaced—and she found herself still staring into that disconcerting pair of emerald eyes, but now they were further away, set back at the end of a long, black-scaled snout. The smell of sulfur was overwhelming.
“Still don’t believe in dragons, little goat?” The voice was still Raeph’s, but now it sounded like it had been dipped in molten iron.
“Ignore him,” Endres stepped up and pushed Raeph’s snout away from Amaya’s face. “He’s just showing off.”
“Showing off? That’s not showing off—“
“Raeph, don’t—“
“This is showing off, Endres.”
With one great flap of his wings, Raeph was airborne. He snatched at Amaya’s stone chair, grasped it with his long black talons and lifted her high into the night sky.
“Raeph!” Endres screamed from beneath them. “Come back here!”
“Catch me!” Raeph roared, wheeling back toward the roof of the Bond Building. Amaya dangled below him, grasping the arms of the stone chair as best she could with her bound wrists. The remnants of her drugged champagne lurched in her stomach. If she threw up, she desperately hoped it would spatter up on Raeph’s silver-scaled belly. That was the least he deserved.
“Raeph!” Endres shouted again. “She’s not yours! Bring her back!”
“Make me, golden boy!” Raeph dipped back down toward Endres and then took off, screaming toward the East River.
There was another pop of displaced air, and Amaya’s periphery was filled with another set of wings, these ones a deep blood red. Raeph banked left, but the other dragon kept pace with him.
“You owe me a suit,” Endres’ voice said, coming from the red dragon’s mouth.
The red dragon stretched his clawed talons toward Amaya and she ducked away. A burst of pain blossomed through her le
ft leg and she screamed.
“You’re hurting her, Raeph,” Endres shouted, and he lunged at her again.
Amaya screwed her eyes closed, waiting for another blow, but felt only the wind whipping around her as the black dragon lurched away from the threat.
A growl rumbled directly over her head.
“I’m not hurting her, Endres! You are! Now, back off!” The black dragon flapped his enormous wings and jetted low over the river, screeching toward Brooklyn. The red dragon fell in behind them, no longer reaching for Amaya, but not giving up the chase.
The sky-high lights of Manhattan disappeared behind them, giving way to the lower landscape of the borough.
Great, Amaya thought, as the dragon carried her farther and farther from her father. I’m gonna die in Brooklyn.
The journey took only lasted a few more minutes, but it felt like a lifetime to Amaya. Finally, the black dragon circled low over an abandoned factory and dropped Amaya ungracefully on the gritty rooftop.
A small pop, and the dragon was gone. Raeph stood beside her, panting from the effort of the chase.
“Let’s go,” he said, gripping her hard by the arm. “We need to get inside before Endres—“
A skid of gravel, another pop, and Endres was standing on the rooftop beside them. His suit was gone, and he glared at them, naked and angry.
“This is where you’ve been hiding out, Raeph?” Endres growled, his deep brown eyes aglow with contempt. “In a factory? Typical of a Donaes, I suppose.”
Amaya didn’t know what reaction she expected from Raeph, but it certainly wasn’t good humor. The dark haired man, naked again, shook with laugher.
“How completely Solas of you, Endres. Your clan never fails to disappoint me with your pretentious snobbery. Ironic, considering your current misfortune.”
Endres reddened and took a step closer to Raeph. His eyes burned. “How dare you speak of my clan’s misfortune, when it was brought about entirely by the duplicitous actions of your—“
Amaya toppled over. Blood seeped down her torn leg.
Raeph and Endres leaned over her prone form, their argument momentarily forgotten.
“Uh-oh,” Raeph muttered.
***
When Amaya came to, she found herself in a small bed with clean white sheets and a chain attached to the footboard. The other end of the chain, much to her dismay, was linked to a thick iron cuff around her right ankle.
Endres appeared at her side, his expression of concern nothing like the anger that had gilded his face on the roof.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, voice kind. He wore a light gray t-shirt and slim pair of jeans that hung just a little too large on his lanky frame. Amaya wondered how long she’d been out. Long enough for Endres to go shopping?
“They’re Raeph’s,” Endres informed her, as if he read her mind.
She pulled herself up to sitting, and fresh pain shot up her right leg. Amaya gasped in pain, and Endres put a hand on her shoulder.
“Easy, there,” he said. “I tried to care for you the best I could, but I am no healer.”
The shreds of Amaya’s white silk gown hung over her injured leg, stained with streaks of red, drying to an ugly brown. The wound had stopped bleeding, however, and appeared to be knit together, the repaired skin shining in the waning moonlight.
“I… well, I cauterized it,” Endres admitted. “It’s the best I could do to stop the bleeding.”
Amaya said nothing, just stared at her leg.
“I’m sorry that I caused you pain,” the man said, his head dropping with shame.
Insane laughter burst from Amaya. “You’re sorry you caused me pain, dragon boy?” she snapped, trying to quell the laughter. This was neither the time nor the place for histrionics. “You’re sorry? Oh my god, of all the ridiculous, stupid statements—“
“You have my apology, what more do you want?” Endres looked pained.
“I want to go home,” she replied.
“Then you ask for the one thing I cannot give you,” he said. “Ask for something else, and I will do my best to fulfill your wish.”
Amaya didn’t want money or a favor; she just wanted her freedom. “I’d like to use the restroom please,” she told the dragon.
Endres looked puzzled. He fished through his borrowed jeans, pulled out a small key and unlocked her fetter. “Lean on me,” he instructed, hoisting Amaya up against him for support.
They proceeded like this—Amaya limping and Endres holding her up—through the dimly lit room.
“It’s an old light bulb factory, I guess,” Endres informed her as they passed a stack of dusty cardboard boxes with “100 watt” stamped on their sides. “Leave it to Raeph to pick the grungiest lair he could find.”
Raeph. Amaya had forgotten about the other dragon. “Where is he?” she ventured.
Endres shook his head, white-blond hair falling over his forehead. “He stepped out for a moment.”
“And left me with you? Weren’t you two just arguing about which of you was going to eat me?”
“We reached an agreement,” Endres said, purposefully vague. “I swore to him that I would not make off with you and he allowed me to tend to your leg. It’s win-win.”
Amaya didn’t see the silver lining on this particular cloud, but she remained silent, old proverbs about poking the dragon bouncing around in her head.
They reached the other side of the dark room and Endres gestured toward a small door. “Here you are, my lady.”
Amaya slipped into the tiny bathroom without responding to his mocking title. She locked the door and collapsed against it, her mind spinning. There was a small, dusty window in the bathroom, but it was too small for her to squeeze through. Plus, she discovered upon peering through the filthy panes, they were on the second floor. Even if she could get through, she’d fall to her death.
Well, running was out. She was injured and the red dragon was fast. The only choice was a distraction.
“Endres!” she screamed, and was instantly rewarded by a pounding on the bathroom door. “Endres! I see Raeph! He’s right outside and he’s brought reinforcements!”
A muttered curse came through the door and then the sound of footsteps dashing away.
The moment they disappeared, Amaya wrenched the door open and fled into the darkened room. If she could just find a staircase, she could slip out and hide long enough to come up with the next part of the plan.
There, her brain shouted. At the end of the room, a door was set into a shadowy wall. Amaya knew she only had a few more moments before Endres realized that she lied. She flung herself across the room toward the door, yanked it open and came to a screeching halt.
Where there should have been a staircase was nothing but torn iron, disappearing into an abyss.
“I thought it would be smart to rip those stairs out,” Raeph said behind her. “I mean, I did it to keep curious neighbors out, but this is an unexpected bonus.”
Amaya spun to face him, livid. “Kill me or let me go,” she demanded. “But I’m getting sick of your bullshit.”
Raeph just grinned. “I can’t do either of things, little goat,” he said. “But you’ll have your part to play soon enough.”
The adrenaline from her escape was fading and the pain in her injured leg was too much for Amaya to bear. She collapsed against the wall.
A hand came to rest on her cheek, and Amaya was overwhelmed by the scent of sulfur and salt. Hot tears, unbidden and unwanted, poured down her cheeks.
“Oh no, stop crying,” Raeph said, his strong hands trying to wipe away her tears.
“Raeph!” Endres shouted, footsteps ringing out on the bare floor as he sprinted toward them. “What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything, she just started crying!” Raeph sounded confused. “Do all sacrifices cry this much?”
Amaya wiped away her tears and glared up at him. “They do when you keep calling them ‘sacrifices.’”
The dragon boy
s—one light, one dark—stared blankly at her.
“What else should we call you?” Endres asked. His brown eyes were soft, worried.
“Amaya,” she said. “You can just call me Amaya, okay?”
They nodded in unison. It would have been comical if the situation didn’t involve kidnapping and ritual sacrifice.
“All right,” Endres agreed. “We can call you Amaya.”
“’Amaya’ it is,” Raeph said. “But, Amaya, you’re still mine.”
“No, she’s mine,” Endres snapped.
“Whatever,” Raeph threw up his hands in frustration “Until we figure out which clan you actually belong to, you’re staying here.”
Amaya nodded mutely, alternate escape plans already swirling through her brain.
But Raeph wasn’t finished.
“No harm will come to you while we figure this out, but if you try to escape again,” he grinned, teeth sharp and gleaming. “I will personally destroy everything you love.”
“Are you threatening me, dragon?” Amaya asked, bold in her terror.
“That’s not a threat, little goat, it’s a promise.” Raeph said, guiding her back toward the little bed and tossing her on it.
As Raeph clicked the lock and re-secured her to the bed, Endres sat beside her, gently stroking her hair. “Get some sleep,” he advised. “You’re going to need it.”
***
The morning light allowed Amaya her first unrestricted view of the factory, although now it looked more like a comfortable loft than an abandoned ruin.
A set of black leather sofas was gathered around a large, flat-screened television. In a different corner sat a king-sized bed, sheets rumpled and slept in. There was a small air mattress inflated near the foot of the bed, a human-shaped lump wrapped in blankets was curled up on it.
A low, tune-less humming was coming from the farthest corner of the loft, where a gleaming kitchen was built into the wall. Raeph bent low over the stove, stirring something in a frying pan. His tattooed torso almost glowed in the light of day. He was wearing pants this morning, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Amaya. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.