Klaus

by Ava Benton

  “I miss the air. Don’t you miss the air? And flying. My dragon’s been screaming for days, sometimes so loud, I swear I can’t hear anything else for the noise. She’s dying to fly.”

  “Mmhmm.” I closed my eyes, bringing an end to the conversation.

  I’d have to pretend to be asleep if I wanted to get out of discussing things any further. I made sure to keep smiling even in my false sleep. Anything to give Leslie the idea that I felt peaceful and content.

  The way everyone else seemed to.

  Why couldn’t I be like them? Why was I the only one?

  I’d been watching them all so closely, dissecting their every movement, every glance, every word. I knew them as well as I knew myself, all of them, and I surely would’ve noticed any changes, if there were chances to be noticed.

  Nothing. I’d seen nothing.

  Certainly, we’d been a bit sluggish on leaving the laboratory. It had taken several days for all of us to get our energy back, to feel even slightly clear-headed. It was like walking through a fog, or a waking dream, until whatever had been injected into our bodies left them.

  It had been quite a relief, being able to think clearly again.

  Until I realized what was missing.

  I’d thought at first that I’d only imagined it, that the lack of a second ever-present voice in my head was merely an effect of the drugs. Something was blocking my dragon. Or silencing it. But it would come back once the drugs wore off.

  This was a perfectly good excuse.

  Until the drugs wore off and the voice was still silent as ever.

  It still hadn’t come back.

  I had lost my dragon.

  My hands tightened into fists in my state of false sleep, and I turned my head from one side to the other when I considered what this meant. No longer hearing my dragon, no longer being able to shift into what I sometimes thought of as my true self. There had been many times over my thousand or more years when it had felt as though the human was my secondary form, my “other.”

  I was a dragon who sometimes looked like a human woman, not the other way around.

  Only that was no longer the case, was it?

  As I’d done every time I’d closed my eyes since first noticing the absence of my dragon, I focused every ounce of concentration on hearing the dragon’s voice. It was a voice I knew as well as my own. I’d heard it every day for nearly my entire life.

  I repeated the same words I’d done since the day I realized she was gone. Where are you? Where did you go? I’m here, I’m waiting for you to come back. Are you frightened? There’s no longer anything to be frightened of. They can’t hurt us. They’re gone, dead. They’ll never harm us again. Please. Come back. I’m so alone without you.

  I listened, and I waited. Waited with bated breath, afraid to breathe in case I drowned out the sound of the dragon’s return.

  Who was I if not a dragon? It was my purpose for being, my entire life. My clan, my blood. My everything.

  Oh, what would they say if they knew? Would I be able to live among them anymore? Of course, I wouldn’t. There would be no reason for it. I’d have to leave, to find some way to provide for myself. I’d never had to do anything like that before. I wouldn’t know where to start.

  Panic rose, spreading through my chest and stealing the air from my lungs. The recycled air of the jet was cool, if dry, and I took my time drawing it in through my nose, holding it for a moment before letting it out again.

  I’d never felt that sort of panic before our last day. The day, the only day which seemed to matter anymore. That was another way I felt alone, another difference between myself and those I’d lived with and known for so very long. They never spoke of it. I didn’t know what any of them thought about what we’d been through.

  Then again, I had never spoken of it, either. As far as they were aware, I’d given it no thought whatsoever.

  How did one bring up a subject such as that?

  We’d never exactly made it our business to discuss feelings or emotions with one another. It simply wasn’t done, even among the women. Certainly, there had been times when strong anger or resentment or frustration needed to be expressed—dozens of people, no matter whether or not they were human, couldn’t share their lives as we had without being as honest as possible with one another. Such times were natural.

  But fear? That had never been a problem. I didn’t have the words with which to express the way my heart fluttered sickeningly whenever I remembered walking up the worn path I’d carved into the grass which lined the hill leading up to the base of the mountain. When I had seen the helicopters.

  When I knew what it meant.

  And the screams. I’d heard the screams next. And the rat-a-tat-tat of semi-automatic weapons as they mowed down an entire row of my kin who refused to go along with the men who wielded the guns.

  The screaming in my head. My dragon, roaring and thrashing and demanding blood in return, and I had all but given myself over to her. I welcomed the shift, welcomed the chance to beat my wings against the air and raise myself above them, to shred their bodies and their machines alike.

  I’d taken off at a run, fists pumping, feet pounding against the smooth ground almost, as hard as my heart pounded, ready to take off in flight as soon as my wings unfurled.

  The sharp stinging in my neck didn’t register for perhaps one or two blinks of the eye. And it wasn’t until the ground was rushing up to meet my face that I realized they’d shot me with something. A sedative dart.

  I had been too slow. I had waited too long, had stood there frozen in shock for too long while those I loved were being brutally murdered or shoved aboard those helicopters, their bodies limp and yielding. As mine likely was once my time came, and one of them had picked my unconscious form up from the ground.

  I had failed my clan.

  My punishment seemed fitting. To lose that which made me who I was, that which made me like all the rest of them. I’d failed them, and so the force which guided the order of things in the universe had seen fit to banish me.

  A tear rolled down my cheek from beneath my lashes, and I raised my hand to brush it away. A single tear shed in sleep wouldn’t arouse suspicion. I hoped so, at least.

  They would find out. It was inevitable. The first thing on anyone’s mind would be to shift, and quickly, to stretch their wings and take command of the sky once again. We had ruled those skies long before the invention of airplanes. There was nothing like being able to raise oneself above it all, to soar through the clouds with the land stretching out in all directions, rushing streams no more than ribbons winding their way between rocks and boulders which looked more like pebbles from such a height.

  Who could resist the chance to do what they were born to do? If I’d been able, I would be right there with them. The dragon would spread its copper wings and soar, delighting in who she was for the first time in so long.

  How was I going to hide myself from the rest of them?

  I felt the weight of a certain pair of eyes on me, even while deep in the midst of my troubles. He was watching as I pretended to sleep. Why? I’d brought it on myself, I reasoned, after teasing him the way I did.

  Perhaps I shouldn’t have, but anyone could see he was in distress as the jet first took off. The sight of him gripping his knees had been enough to stir my sympathy; just like me, he was afraid of something and couldn’t share his fear with anyone. I would never have imagined a lion shifter, one fearless enough to work with Mary and her soldiers, being afraid of flying.

  I couldn’t broadcast it to the cabin that Klaus was all but tearing out his own kneecaps, so I’d found another way.

  If I had only succeeded in attracting more of his attention, I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I wish I had, as as I felt him continue to watch me.

  Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer. My eyes snapped open in the hopes that I’d catch him before he could look away.

  And he was watching. I knew it. My instincts were s
till sharp enough that I could sense something like that.

  Only he didn’t look away. He continued staring, eyes searing me as they held my gaze. What was he thinking? What was special enough about me to warrant his stare?

  Something about it stirred me to anger. Perhaps it wasn’t even anger at him, really, I had no reason to be angry. He was merely curious. Or simply ignorant. Either way, there was no need for the flash of teeth-grinding irritation which forced me to speak up.

  “Your manners leave a little to be desired,” I decided aloud. “First, you insisted on remaining on the beach when you must have known I wished to be left alone. You undressed in front of me and behaved as though it were a joke. And now, I open my eyes to find you staring at me while I sleep.”

  I expected him to defend himself, or at least, to throw a well-worded jab my way. Irritating or not, I did enjoy our wordplay. Over time, most of the clan had begun dismissing my incessant talking, rather than attempting to keep up with the rapid-fire stream of thoughts constantly barraging my brain.

  Instead of a defense, he offered what sounded like an accusation. “You weren’t asleep.”

  There was nothing I could say to that, so I turned my focus back to my magazine and prayed for a quick flight with no further interruptions.

  How stupid of me, thinking that he might be a potential friend.

  The more distance I could put between us, the better.

  5

  Klaus

  Damn.”

  It was all I could think to say, stupid as I knew it sounded. I reminded myself of a yokel who’d never seen the big city and was catching his first glimpse of it, mouth agape, eyes wide and shining, almost unable to walk for fear my legs would give out on me.

  I had never seen anything like it. Saighead Uaine. Green Arrow. I could see why it had earned its name. The mountain’s peak had been carved into the shape of an arrowhead by eons of gusty winds, and on it grew the greenest moss I’d ever seen. It looked like an emerald, standing out against a heartbreakingly blue sky.

  So, there were other types of beauty in the world. Beauty which had nothing to do with white sand beaches and palm trees. I realized had seen so little of what was beautiful.

  Snickers came from the dragons walking past me—not nasty, by any means. They found it amusing that I was so taken aback by what they’d always known. Perhaps the real transfixing majesty of the mountain and surrounding land had worn off over time. I knew how old they were, how long they’d called the caves beneath the mountain their home.

  “The air is so clean,” I mused as I continued up the stony path.

  “Aye.” Owen fell into step beside me. “A bit thinner, of course, the higher one goes. But clean and fresh. Och, I’ve missed it so.”

  Interesting how the way they spoke had become familiar to me, almost unnoticeable.

  They had all missed their land. I’d heard of nothing but their enthusiasm and deep, abiding love for their home since we’d left the jet behind in Edinburgh. SUVs had been waiting for us at the hangar—another of Mary’s bits of genius, her ability to plan every mission down to the last detail—and we’d split up into groups and bundled in, everyone chattering away about how they couldn’t wait to arrive.

  Everyone but her.

  She was far ahead of me, having taken another car. Was it just my imagination, or was she deliberately avoiding me after our last conversation?

  I had pushed too hard, gone too far, said something I shouldn’t have. What was I thinking, staring at her as I had been? No wonder she’d frozen me out for the rest of the flight.

  It didn’t matter. I didn’t know her, she didn’t know me. She wasn’t special, and I wasn’t there to make friends. With any luck, security around the caves would tighten up sufficiently in a short amount of time, and I’d be able to move on. Surely, Mary had better things for me to do than babysitting a group of dragon shifters.

  A group of five tall stones stood in a circle, roughly a hundred yards from the mouth of the cave. “What are they for?” I asked. “Surely, they aren’t a natural occurrence.”

  “Depends on what you mean by natural,” Owen chuckled. “The Ancient Ones placed them there before any of us came into being. Used them for rituals, ceremonies and the like.”

  “I take it you don’t use them now.”

  “Nay, but I don’t think any of us practices the old ways anymore. Once or twice, perhaps, back in the old times. No longer. The modern world eventually caught up with us.”

  “I see.” Or, more to the point, I would see once we reached the inside of the cave.

  I noticed something, the closer I drew to the entrance, hesitation. For all their excitement and longing to be home, none of them seemed to be in much of a hurry to actually step foot inside the cave.

  Mary hadn’t told me many specifics of what happened here, nor had any of the rest of them. They were stoic. They kept their feelings and thoughts to themselves, aside from frivolities and lightweight things which bore little real purpose. Everything else stayed inside.

  Something told me none of them was in a hurry to remember what had taken place. In fact, several of the women looked rather red-eyed as they gazed about.

  “I wonder what they did with the blood,” one of them murmured to another as I passed.

  They’d cleaned it, of course. The monsters who had kidnapped them weren’t the sort who left anything to chance, especially the evidence of their crime.

  “From what I’ve heard, the interior of the cave has been completely cleaned,” I explained to Owen and anyone in earshot. “Miles and Gate were here, remember. They explored in search of what happened to your clan.”

  “Everything’s fine,” Alan announced, coming out with a smile on his face. He’d gone ahead of the others, naturally, ever the leader.

  Ainsley was beside him, looking self-assured. She slid her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and looked to her brother as he instructed everyone on how to proceed.

  “Klaus, of course, will be helping us work out the technological kinks in our security system. We’re leaving nothing to chance after this. Otherwise, be careful when you choose to come out and hunt or simply shift for the sake of shifting. Be aware of what—or who—is around you.”

  “Do you think there’s still a threat here?” Tamhas asked.

  Alan shook his head. “No, but I do believe there’s something to be said for awareness. The more aware we are of each other and our surroundings, the more secure we’ll feel. And let’s not forget the antidote we’ve brought with us. We now have no weaknesses which can be exploited, as we did before. There’s nothing to fear.”

  No, nothing. Except for semi-automatic rifles like the ones used to intimidate and murder half the clan before the rest were sedated and taken away in iron shackles.

  It seemed I was the only one who had this thought, however, as the rest appeared to considerably relax and begin their trek into the cave.

  I followed along, taking in everything around me. Not that there was much at first, only a tunnel which went deeper into the heart of the mountain and seemed to stretch on forever. Just when I was beginning to wonder if there was a mix-up or someone had been lying to me, the walls changed from bare rock to smooth sheetrock which had been painted over in a soft shade of off-white.

  None of us needed help seeing in the dark, our eyesight far superior to that of humans, and we made it to a circular room before the lights went on. Laughter and a smattering of applause rose up from the clan.

  “It looks as though Dallas made it to the generator room,” Owen announced, grinning.

  I glanced around, using the additional light to my advantage. Just as described, the room was round and empty. The room where the girl who’d discovered the cave had hit her head, where Miles and Gate had found her.

  Owen noticed my confusion, why would such a room exist? It was larger than the lobby of the resort back in St. Lucia.

  “They were very fond of circles in the ancient time
s,” Owen explained with a smile and a shrug. “I believe they held meetings here, more rituals which didn’t require being outdoors, beneath the moon.”

  “It’s fascinating,” I admitted, following the flow of traffic down yet another tunnel. This time, the walls were not smooth and unchanging. Doors marked both sides at varying intervals. The excitement grew as members of the clan broke off and hurried away to their respective bedrooms. I thought I might even have heard a squeal or two.

  Alan spotted me, waving me over to where he waited. “You’ll get a room of your own, of course,” he assured me. “But I wanted to show you around the place a bit, first.”

  He looked overwhelmed but managed to sound as though he had things under control. I gave him quite a bit of credit for that, as he had recently taken tremendous responsibility onto himself, not the least of which being the task of keeping the clan united in the face of what they’d been through.

  “No need to get to me right away,” I assured him. “Whatever you need to take care of, go ahead.”

  “This is what I need to take care of. Making sure you’re familiar with your surroundings and what we need from you.” He led me to a room which I could only describe as a control center, one wall half-covered in monitors above a table which spanned the length of the space beneath them.

  “There are no computers,” I observed, noting the empty space beneath the table. No routers, no anything.

  “Yes, indeed,” he agreed through clenched teeth. “The bastards stole everything. I suppose they didn’t expect us to return, so what did it matter? One of the SUVs which met us was filled with what we need.”

  “Mary comes through again.” I chuckled.

  “Yes, indeed. Alan drove that vehicle, taking a rarely used road we only travel when we drive into the city for supplies. He’ll arrive shortly, and we’ll unload the electronics Mary arranged for us to have. She assured me you were well-versed in all of them.”