“The song…? Wait, on the karaoke machine?” She gaped up at him. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding, Chason. How in the world would I remember that?”
“I remember it.” Seventeen years later it still bugged the hell out of him to even think of that damn song. Isaacs knew it, too. That’s why he had played the damn thing on the jukebox the night before, in the human bar.
Right before Chason had tried to squash him like a bug with that jeep.
“Well, I’m sorry. I remember Nia bringing us the karaoke machine to play with and I remember your father locking himself in his study to escape it, but I don’t remember any of the songs we sang.”
“I didn’t sing anything. Isaacs and Mara did a fucking duet, though!”
“You really do swear too much, now. It’s inappropriate for a king.”
“You don’t know the song, because you’re not Mara.” He insisted grimly. “Mara would know the song.”
She rolled her eyes towards the grey sky. “Well, I guess your version of me is just smarter than I am, Chason. No wonder you’d rather be with her, if she can recall something that vital. Of course, you’d know I was a fake for not recalling such a seminal moment from our past.”
“Mara wasn’t sarcastic, either.” He muttered. Which is why it was wrong that he liked the woman’s biting tone. He shouldn’t want to smile at her contempt for the idea that Isaacs and that stupid song were in any way memorable.
“You know, I could play this game, too.” She continued stalking up the steps to the fortress. “It’s not like you could remember everything that’s ever happened to us, either. What was I wearing at that party? Do you know…?”
Chason cut her off. “White dress with dots and a lavender belt. It had kind of… fluff under the skirt.”
She stopped with her hand on the doorknob, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Tulle.” She said softly. “It’s called tulle.” She looked amazed. “You really remember that dress? I didn’t know you even noticed it.”
“I remember everything about my Match.” He said simply. “I loved her.”
“You…?” The woman’s lips parted in shock at his words. “You never said that before.”
“Of course, I did.” Everyone knew how much he loved Mara, especially Mara. It had been the clearest thing in the world.
“You said it, but it never meant what I wanted it to.” The woman looked dazed. “Not like you just said it, now.” She swallowed. “Did you love Mara or did you just love your Match?”
“Mara was my Match.”
“They aren’t the same thing, though.”
She was speaking in riddles, again. Chason gave up trying to understand her and followed her up the stairs. “This is pointless. Just accept one thing and we can stop the charade: No matter how well you kiss, you can never compete with the feelings I had for Mara. Trying to impersonate my Match is like trying to impersonate the sun. No one else will ever have her light. For both out sakes, just stop.” He brushed passed the woman and walked into the house.
…Leaving her staring after him in something like dismay.
Chapter Nine
I might say “element,” but the word is over worn
William Shakespeare- “Twelfth Night”
Sullivan Pryce stared at the jar of candy canes that his cousin Melanie had put on his desk and listened as Cross “Earp’s” team of lawyers indignantly explained that their client wasn’t about to talk to anyone about a murder case.
Especially not when the only evidence Sullivan could come up with was the hung-over confession of the Lunatic Who Would Be King. Especially not when the only name Sullivan had for the victim was “Abel, of the Stone House.” Especially not when Gion Peterson paid them all massive retainers to ensure the police never questioned any member of that insane family.
And extra-especially since Sullivan wasn’t all that interested in arresting the guy who killed the guy who killed the innocent lab tech, anyway.
Sullivan wasn’t pulling out all the normal cop threats to try and bust Cross, but it was his job to at least try and investigate. Not that it did him any good. He’d stopped listening midway through one of the lawyer’s longwinded speeches about what a busy and important (and rich) man their client was and how Cross wasn’t about to submit to any police interrogation and how Sullivan would be investigated for harassment if he kept calling and blah, blah, blah.
Fucking lawyers were even worse than the Cult.
The bell over the door rang. In honor of the Christmas season, someone has switched it to a long strand of jingle bells and Sullivan distractedly glanced towards the cheerful sound. When he got a good look at his visitor, though, it was hard to look anywhere else.
Holy shit, the guy was massive! Sullivan himself was big, but this guy probably generated his own weather patterns.
Sullivan automatically got to his feet, preparing for trouble. “I’ll call ya back.” He told the blathering attorney and hung up the phone mid lawsuit threat. His eyes stayed riveted on the gigantic visitor who’d ducked through his doorway and was glowering around the police station. “Can I help you?” He asked because he had no idea what else to say.
“Yes. Explain why everything in this accursed place is so small?” The guy swore in annoyance as he whacked his head on a ceiling fan. “Gods! It’s worse than even the Elemental realm and that place is worse than anywhere.” He hesitated. “Well, I find the Fire Kingdom very pleasant. The volcanoes in my new home are a welcomed change from all the prettiness I usually have to endure in that wasteland of a realm.”
“Yeeeeaaah.” Sullivan drew out the word, barely processing any of that gibberish. Not only was this guy beyond huge, he was also… a dragon.
No. That couldn’t be right. He had to be human, right? What else could he be? He wore a business suit and spoke English and had mostly human features. But, he also had red eyes and textured skin and a face that kind of…
…looked like a fucking dragon.
Job Earth-House entered behind him, apparently not noticing that he was standing next to someone who maybe wasn’t human. Job seemed to be the Cult’s leader. He showed up when they needed some kind of diplomacy, dressed like a banker and saying reasonable things. The guy was always so calm. His white blond hair was arranged in an elegant ponytail, the blunt angles of his face impassive.
“Hello, Sullivan. This is my nephew.” Job gestured towards the dragon. “We’d like to speak with you.”
The big guy arched a black brow when Sullivan just gaped at him. “I am Kingu, of the Fire House.”
“Kingu?” Sullivan repeated blankly. “Wait… Alder’s Kingu?”
“Technically, I am Hope’s Kingu. Hope is my Match. Alder is Hope’s cousin and she wishes the boy returned. Now.”
Sullivan’s eyes narrowed. Why did they keep trying to explain their weird family tree to him? “Alder is under arrest.”
“Hope wishes him returned.” Kingu said it more firmly this time, like maybe Sullivan was just too dim to understand the problem here. “I won’t have a moment’s peace in the fortress until he’s freed.”
Dragon or not, a guy who was so obviously whipped by his girlfriend couldn’t be all bad. Sullivan sort of envied Kingu for having someone to send him on stupid errands like this. “I’m not releasing Alder.”
Kingu looked at Job expectantly. “Well, you said you’d talk to him. Talk to him or I’ll handle it myself.”
“No, don’t do that.” Job said swiftly. He turned to Sullivan and cleared his throat. “Alder’s family is very upset that you’ve arrested him, again. They generally enjoy kidnapping games, but now they believe you’re taunting them. Daring them to react.”
“I am.”
Kingu waved a “you see?” hand at Job. “You see? The boy is trying to incite us into action.”
“Sullivan, the last thing you want to do is incite the Fire House into action.” Job told him seriously. “It’s just a bad idea.”
Sullivan didn’t care. He s
lowly sat back down, his attention on Kingu. “So… if you’re related to Alder, then you know Teja, too?”
“Yes.” Kingu eyed Sullivan with deeper interest. “The fact that she isn’t doing more to save Alder from your clutches is at the heart of much of the yelling I’ve endured today. Everyone but Teja feels that she should be stopping your reign of terror. There’s talk you may have turned rabid.”
“No, I’m just pissed. I don’t like being spied on.”
“They are babysitting you, more than spying on you.” Job assured him. “Kingu’s family is protective by nature and they wish to… protect you.”
“Why?”
Kingu and Job exchanged a look.
“Well,” Job finally said, “because, Teja… likes you.”
Sullivan snorted. “Sure she does.” Teja looked like Sophia Loren and apparently possessed magical powers. Obviously, she’d be crushing on a small town cop with a scar straight out of a slasher movie. “Why else?”
“My family also feels you’re young and possibly stupid.” Kingu shrugged. “Additionally, when they looked up rabies symptoms, aggression and delusions were listed as warning signs, so that was mentioned. Again.”
“I am not rabid, alright? I just want to know what you people want from me.”
“Presently we want Alder back.”
Sullivan shook his head. “The stalking was happening way before I arrested Alder. That’s why I arrested him, as a matter of fact. You’re up to something and I know Teja’s masterminding it. I want to talk to her.”
“Teja has been through a lot in the last few years.” Job put in. “She’s not as strong as she seems. Not emotionally. Finding you has upset her, but if you just give her some time…”
“I’ve upset her? She has ranting criminals following me around town. How is that my fault?”
“When you’re Matched to a Fire Phase, you find that somehow everything’s your fault.” Kingu commiserated. “Of course, the tradeoff is you’re Matched to a Fire Phase and they are greatest treasures in the universe.” He leaned against the metal desk and Sullivan actually saw the edge of it crumple down several inches like tinfoil. “I once detested humans.” He said in a reminiscing tone.
“Kingu, maybe now’s not the best time to…”
He cut off his “uncle,” his red gaze on Sullivan. “You are such an insignificant species, yet you cause so much havoc. Also, you smell.”
“I don’t smell!”
Job sighed.
Kingu made a “let’s not quibble about it” sort of hand gesture. “Your species as a whole tends to smell. Alright? The point is, when I met Hope, I realized that not all of you are staggeringly inept wretches inflicted upon the world like a curse. Or a prank.”
“Thanks.” Sullivan deadpanned.
“So I see you here, struggling with how you’ve disappointed Teja…”
“What? She is the one…”
Kingu kept talking like he didn’t even hear the protest. “…and I feel a responsibility to step in and help guide you.” He hesitated. “Also, I know that if you don’t shape-up, my family will continue endlessly talking about you and I would much rather they resume discussing my daughter. That subject never bores me.” His expression brightened. “Have you heard that Hope and I will soon have a child?”
Job’s mouth twitched. “I believe you’ve now officially told everyone, Kingu.”
Jesus, Sullivan should’ve called in sick today. “Congratulations.”
“Yes, the entire universe eagerly awaits her arrival.” Kingu agreed with a perfectly straight face. “She will be immensely powerful, and rule through love and terror.” He clapped his palms together. “Now, about Teja, you approach the woman wrong and this is why you get nowhere with her.”
“I haven’t approached her, at all.”
“Precisely. To court a Fire Phase is a delicate thing and you are screwing it up.” Kingu nodded wisely. “I am an expert on the courting and the screwing up part, so you should listen to me. You don’t seem smart enough to accomplish this on your own.”
Job nodded like he agreed with that lunacy. “Teja is a complicated woman, so if you…”
“Alright, listen to me.” Sullivan leaned forward. “I don’t know what exactly Teja has told you, but there is no ‘courting’ going on. I’ve spoken to the woman once. And it was weird. More importantly, I am most definitely not her type. Have you seen her?” He pointed to the scar on his cheek. “Have you seen me?”
Kingu stared at him for a beat and then snapped his fingers. Instantly, a framed photo appeared his hand.
Sullivan’s eyebrows soared. “Jesus, I will never get used to shit like that.”
“This is Hope.” Kingu put the picture down in front of Sullivan and tapped the glass. “This is my Match.”
A cherubic blonde beamed mischievously from the frame. Sweet and small and dressed in a barrage of rainbow colors, she looked like she should be making cupcakes with kindergartners. Instead, she was cuddled next to Kingu, smiling up at him like he was Brad Pitt. She was so pretty and this dragon guy…
Sullivan’s gaze traveled back up to Kingu’s monstrous face.
…wasn’t.
Kingu smirked at him. “The Fire Phases are not normal people. For some of us, this is a fortunate thing. Now, do you wish my advice on winning Teja or are you pleased with living a squandered life?”
Sullivan studied him for a beat. “I’m gonna go with the squandered thing.”
This was a set-up. He didn’t how or why or what their plan was, but he knew damn well that Teja and her crazy family were up to something. There was no way he was going to fall for whatever it was they were plotting.
Kingu rolled his eyes and looked over at Job. “You see? By and large, they are such a dim species.”
“He just doesn’t understand.” Job shook his head. “Teja isn’t telling him anything.”
“My family isn’t to blame for this! It is all the human doing.” Kingu gestured towards Sullivan. “He is being deliberately difficult about this entire enterprise. Apparently, he doesn’t wish to find happiness and so our only option is to ensure he suffers the pain he is seeking. We have no choice. Failure to respond to his attacks with an appropriate level of force will be seen as weakness by our enemies.”
“Did you just threaten me?”
“Of course I did.” Kingu frowned at him. “You have made my day more difficult, human. It’s never wise to make a god’s day more difficult.”
Sullivan really needed to hire a secretary to screen his visitors. Still, it was becoming clear that he wasn’t going to get rid of these freaks without throwing them some kind of bone. “You know… I think we can all leave here happy.”
“You will stop your reign of terror and release Alder?”
“No. But, I might have a lead on that a necklace you’re missing.”
Job and Kingu stared at him.
“My mother’s pendant?” Kingu sounded amazed. “How would you know of that?”
“I’m a cop.” Sullivan told him as if that was the answer to everything. “Zakkery stole it from you, right?”
“Well, it wasn’t stolen…” Job began.
Kingu cut him off. “Zakkery has that necklace and I will have it back. My daughter will need it to fully control the primordial Khaos and my daughter will have everything she needs.”
“Right.” Dealing with the Cult was a lot like roleplaying a Tolkien book. Sometimes, the only way to communicate was by using their language. Speak geek and enter. “Obviously, just being a human, the vitally important case of your stolen jewelry is above my lowly pay grade. But, I could tell you what I know… for a price.”
Kingu’s eyes narrowed. “I will give you a unicorn.”
“Well, that’s a strong offer, but…”
“Two unicorns.”
“Ya know, my house is kinda small for pets. I’m gonna have to pass.”
“You wish for gold, instead?”
“I wish for Te
ja.” Sullivan leveled a finger at him. “You tell her she’d better come here herself and explain what she wants from me. If she doesn’t, I’ll keep arresting every weirdo I see with a red stripe in his hair. I don’t like being spied on and I want answers. When she shows up, I’ll let Alder go. Otherwise, my ‘terror’ will reign on indefinitely.”
Kingu mulled that over. “I will give her your message.”
“Good.” Sullivan was pleased with how easy that was. “Your Zakkery pal was here this morning, bailing out Chason Hickok.”
“Chason and Zakkery?” Job blinked. “Why in the world would those two be together?”
“The Magnet King has my necklace?” Kingu said at the same time.
“Well, Gods, unicorns, and royalty are all outside my jurisdiction.” Sullivan shrugged. “But that’s where I’d start looking for your pendant.”
Chapter Ten
There is a great difference in opinion regarding the advisability of telling fairy
stories…. Those containing a fierce or horrible element must, of course, be
promptly ruled out.
Kate Douglas Wiggin- “Children's Rights and Others”
The good news was Mara had rectified the most important regret written on her bucket list. Chason was in love with her.
The bad news was, he was in love with a dead her.
Some porcelain doll version of the untouched Magnet Queen, who wore tulle dresses and shined like the goddamn sun. Chason was building shrines in that bitch’s honor and refusing to even kiss Mara, because it was disloyal to her perfect fucking highness.
Mara ground her teeth together.
No wonder Chason was refusing to call her by name. It didn’t even matter to him that she had one. He wanted his Match and Mara had never been quite good enough at that role. Oh, Chason had always been devoted and kind. But he would have been devoted and kind to any Match Gaia had given him. Mara herself was completely incidental to his life. He wanted a pristine ideal, not a real person.
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