Dragon Protectors

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Dragon Protectors Page 4

by Kristin D. Van Risseghem


  A shadow passes under the doorway. I think it’s McQueen standing outside my room. Will he knock or just come in? After a few moments of silence, the door remains closed. The pattering of feet fades. I lie back down on the soft bed and shut my eyes.

  When I wake again, sunlight streams into the room, making lines across the floor from the wooden blinds. Today, I need to let my parents know that I left school. They don’t need to know where I’m staying. They don’t need trouble brought to their front door. If the students and staff retaliate against me, then the Council might do the same to them.

  I brush my teeth and run fingers through my hair. Stepping out of the room, I glance down, and sitting on the floor is a T-shirt and yoga pants. Holding the bottoms up, I judge they should fit. Are they from McQueen’s mom? The shirt is still his own. Returning to the room, I quickly change into the new clothes.

  When I exit, McQueen is leaning against the doorframe. “I see you got my gift.” His eyes scan my body.

  “Yeah, thanks again.”

  “Anytime. How did you sleep?”

  “Okay, all things considered.”

  He nods, holding out a hand. “Come, let’s go get some breakfast.” He kisses my forehead. “Then you can meet my folks. My dad is especially interested in meeting you.”

  I stop dead in my tracks, glancing down at my attire.

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re fine. In fact, he won’t be in a power suit or anything.”

  It doesn’t help. I shouldn’t be meeting the head of the Dragon Council in a T-shirt and yoga pants. I wiggle my toes. And in bare feet. But if McQueen says it’ll be okay, then it will be. His dad has to understand the circumstances of last night.

  We walk into a grand kitchen. Even in here, everything is white and reminds me of my own kitchen at home. McQueen walks to the fridge and holds out the milk and orange juice. “What kind of cereal do you like?” He goes and grabs bowls and spoons.

  I sit on a barstool and shrug. “I don’t know; what do you have?” He steps aside to allow me a view of the pantry. Lining the shelf is every cereal box imaginable: sweet ones like Coco Pebbles and healthy ones like Raisin Bran. I smile when I see the orange box. “Peanut Butter Captain Crunch, please.”

  McQueen removes the box from the shelf and hands me it so I can pour in the amount I want. I haven’t had this since I was a little girl.

  “Do you want coffee?” he asks. “I don’t drink it, but I think I might be able to figure out how to turn the blasted machine on.”

  “Naw, that’s okay. I’ll just have the leftover milk in the cereal.” I spoon in a mouthful of breakfast. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

  He only nods, crunching away with his mixed bowl of Cheerios and Kashi Puffs.

  I glance at the clock on the stove. It’s just past eight in the morning, a bit too early to call my parents. “Are you coming with me today when I go to the penthouse?”

  “Yes,” McQueen says. “And we’ll take one of our vehicles.” I tilt my head in question. “So others don’t recognize you, and we’ll fit more into the trunk than you could in your convertible.”

  Yeah, he’s right about that. We continue eating breakfast in silence, watching each other as more sunlight pours in through the glass doors leading into the backyard. Once I’m done with my bowl, I rinse it out and lay it in the sink.

  My feet take me to sliding glass doors, overlooking the view in the yard. It’s large, even with the fenced area for the in-ground pool. A high retaining wall shields the property from prying neighbors. Farther past their property line is the East River. The scenery is spectacular. I bet I could see all the way across on a clear day.

  “This is Powell Cove.” McQueen stands next to me.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Yeah.” He scans my body. “It’s even better now that you’re here.”

  I blush. Last night, McQueen wasn’t his normal, sure self. He was quiet and melancholy. But this morning, he’s back to his swaggering ways. I’m so lost in my thoughts I don’t hear others in the kitchen. I’m surprised when I turn around.

  A gorgeous, blond-haired woman is waiting for the coffee machine. Now, I know where McQueen gets his blond hair. Her long, manicured nails tap the white countertop. She’s thin, but not too skinny. Her back is held perfectly straight. “Oh, good morning,” she says. “You must be Brooklyn? Macklin has told us that you’ll be staying with us for a while.”

  And he said no one calls his by his true name. I narrow my eyes at him. He shrugs and leads me to meet his mom.

  “Thank you for letting me stay, Mrs. Queen. You have a beautiful home.”

  “Call me Eliza. A friend in need is always welcome here. And thank you. We try to make it warm and inviting to others.” She tugs me forward and embraces me. “Stay as long as you need to, dear.” Stepping back, I thank her again. “Macklin. Your father will be back soon, so what are your plans for today?”

  “Brooklyn needs to go back home and get some clothes. She packed yesterday but wasn’t able to load them into her car. The school isn’t safe for her anymore. The boys will try to bring her stuff soon. In the meantime, I loaned her a pair of your pants. I hope that was okay.”

  “Yes, it’s fine dear. Why don’t you kids go get her clothes while we wait for Danzel.”

  “Okay.” He nods, turning. “Come on.”

  I follow him down the stairs and into his bedroom.

  “I’m going to shower and change, and then we can go. Do you need to call or text them to let them know we’re coming?”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that and then go shower.”

  We agree to meet back in his room after we both get ready. I quickly call the house and leave a message with the housekeeper.

  MCQUEEN DECIDES TO take an SUV since his dad has the Mercedes. I tell him where we’re going, but he seems to already know. Does everyone know where I live?

  I flash my parking pass to the security officer, and he opens the gate. We ride the private elevator to the fortieth floor. The buzzer indicates our arrival. No one greets us. I didn’t expect that they would, but I hear voices coming from the kitchen. McQueen trailing behind me, I walk into the room.

  My mom is the first out of her chair and hugs me. “Oh honey, we’ve been so worried about you. John called us last night and told us a little bit about what happened. Thank the stars you got out in time.” She gives me another hug.

  Dad comes around and wraps his arms around his wife and me. “At least you’re safe now.”

  I pull back. “I’m not staying here, though. I can’t put you guys in harm’s way. It’s better if you don’t know where I am. But I’ll text or call you every few days, so you don’t worry.”

  “I’ll keep her safe,” McQueen says.

  “And you are?” Dad asks.

  “McQueen. I’m one of her protectors and will be the main one until my brothers leave the school.”

  “Brothers?” Mom asks.

  “Manny, Bronx, and Staten,” I say.

  “I swear on my dragon’s life I will keep your daughter safe.” McQueen places a hand over his heart.

  Mom nods. She knows what my boys mean to me. While she doesn’t know McQueen yet, I hope she trusts me enough to realize that I wouldn’t be with them if I didn’t think they would honor their words.

  “You better mean that,” Dad says.

  “We got your message, and I left some luggage in your closet.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  I hug my parents again, heading toward my room. It seems that it was only yesterday I was packing for school. And now I’m bundling my stuff to flee into the arms of the beasts I was training to kill.

  After my folks tell me again to be safe, and my Dad threatens McQueen again that if he doesn’t keep his promise, he’ll be in a world of hurt, I find myself heading back over the Whitestone Bridge.

  McQueen takes the two suitcases, bringing them to my room. I follow with the lighter, smaller one. Most of my loungewear and ever
yday clothes are at school. Opting for more practical attire, I grabbed what I could, but left all the gowns, sundresses, and heels at home. I do hope that the boys at least manage to get my garment bag that holds my leather duster jacket and corset: my fighting gear.

  By the time we head back upstairs, there is a man sitting at the kitchen table. He has sandy brown hair, broad shoulders, and wears jeans and a polo shirt.

  His head tilts back, turning in our direction. Jade eyes greet me—the same ones as McQueen’s. “Son,” he says.

  “Dad.” He nods. “This is Brooklyn Bryer. She’s the one I’ve told you about.”

  McQueen’s dad sets his coffee mug down and rises from his chair. He towers over us. Pulling a play out of Staten’s book, only his eyes lower.

  “So you’re the latest Kill Shot turned protector. You found the courage to take on the Slayers’ Council?”

  “I am.” He won’t intimidate me. Holding my ground and his eyes, I focus on the man in front of me.

  “And who happens to be the most coveted dragon in our species?” He takes a step forward, causing me to lean my head back. I still don’t break.

  “I am.”

  “And who is the unofficial Pride Leader?”

  My mental connection to them all snaps open for split second. Then I block them out using the technique Staten taught me, slamming the door closed, but not before I get a peek of this man’s inner thoughts. “I am.” I pick out his voice quickly only because he’s talking to me out loud and I can decipher which is his in my mind.

  Hum, that’s interesting. Hard exterior, but a warm and caring man. I suppose that makes sense.

  He nods and waves me to the table. “Welcome to the Pride, Brooklyn. My name is Danzel.” He sits and motions for us to do the same. “So, tell me everything from the beginning.”

  I look at him and then to McQueen, who nods. I regale them with my story of how I first came to York Academy, how I met each of the brothers, and how they came to be my teachers. Then why Staten had brought me into the dream realm to meet the other dragons. I learned that the boys were sabotaging the missions with me by piecing together the odd facts. And finally, I turned into a dragon.

  “And what happened at the Council meeting?” he asks.

  “I attended with my parents and John. Mr. Astor tried and failed to get us removed from the hearing, saying that my folks would be biased. I told him and the rest of the council the demands. I didn’t tell them who any of the dragons are except that I am one. Mrs. Mercer agreed, and then the majority acquiesced.”

  “After, we took Brooklyn back to her room,” McQueen says. “Her parents wanted her to go home, but she needed to pack and tell a few people that she was leaving.”

  “That’s when I got a message from Manny saying that a group somehow found out that I was at the Slayers’ meeting and what the Council agreed to. They weren’t happy about it, so I fled. I didn’t want to bring that to my parents’ doorsteps, so McQueen said I could come here. It’d be the safest place for me until we could figure out what our next step is.”

  “I’m sure that Allister is the one who let it leak,” Danzel says. “He’s been wanting to reorganize the Council to be more like ours. One leader. He does have a group of supporters who would back him, but your parents have a lot of influence, too. It doesn’t surprise me that Allister would try to get students to turn on you. He’ll work the Council and them to see you as their enemy.”

  “Dad, do you think he’s going to try and back out of the deal, even though the majority of the Council has agreed to grant the land?”

  “He’s going to try.” Danzel turns in my direction. “How many people were at the meeting?”

  “Maybe a little more than a dozen.”

  “Okay, so half of the Council members. He’ll probably try talking to the rest individually and call another vote if it’s needed. And not invite our supporters, your parents in particular.”

  “So what do we do in the meantime?” I ask.

  “Mack’s brothers are still at the school, and they’ll be our eyes and ears. You need to continue practicing shifting and using your magic. I’ll call for a Council meeting for later this week. I’ll arrange that today. In the meantime, please make yourself at home.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Come on, Brooklyn. No time like the present, let’s see what you got.”

  McQueen leads me into the basement. It’s three gigantic rooms that seem to be larger than the house. The ceiling has to be higher than fifteen feet tall. There are no windows, save for a few interior doors that look to be closets. The entire rooms are cement and painted white. Nothing hangs on the walls.

  He opens one of the doors and holds out blue mats. I take a couple as he grabs two in each arm. We set them on the bare floor. “We’ll spar in here. Through that door,” he points to his right, “are the treadmills, free weights, and some other exercise equipment. And through that door is a staircase that leads out into the backyard. Don’t worry about the noise. This room is soundproof and is double-cemented. Staten said that your dragon is quite large, and I don’t know if you’ll fit down here in that form. If not, we’ll ward the backyard and do more training out there. Otherwise, I’ll take you to a remote place.” I nod. “Good. Okay, let me see what you’ve got under that scrawny frame of yours.”

  It’s a good thing I’m in yoga pants and a T-shirt. I tie the extra material into a knot, gather my long black hair into a scrunchie, and attack.

  I don’t forewarn him. My arms wrap around his solid waist, ramming my shoulder into his hard stomach. He doesn’t move an inch. I try sweeping his legs, but he’s already anticipated that move. My right fist flies toward his face. He dodges it. My left fist barrels into his side and gets nothing but air.

  Continuing with the tactics that Manny and Bronx have taught me, I keep my body moving. McQueen never takes the offensive. In fact, he’s barely doing anything on the defensive. My hits, kicks, or punches don’t seem to do anything to him.

  Here I thought I was doing an okay job in Skills. Clearly, I need help.

  A grin sweeps across his face. “I see Bronx and Manny have gone soft in your training.” He hasn’t broken a sweat.

  “I’m beginning to think that they both were going easy on me.” My forehead and neck have sweat running down. When I see those two next, I’m going to ask them. I guess I understand why they didn’t really teach us how to kill the dragons or fight each other. But I needed to know how to do this, and they shouldn’t have gone light on my training. “I don’t think I even managed to land a punch on you.” I’m panting hard.

  McQueen shakes his head. “You did, but not enough to do any damage. The technique is there, so we’ll need to work on building strength and stamina. Your hits need to pack a punch. I also don’t think you’re using your magic when you fight.” I shake my head. “Which since you’ve just graduated to be a Level Two, makes sense. You’d be learning to use that more when you move into Level Three.”

  “Yeah.” I inhale. “We were just starting to use magic. I mean, I know it’s there, waiting for me to call it. But most of the time when I’m on the offensive, it’s uncontrolled and people get hurt. Maybe I’m afraid to use it.”

  “You shouldn’t be. Your magic is a part of you. It’s an extension of you and your dragon. Staten might have to continue with that training aspect.” McQueen walks toward the closed door. I think he said it was the equipment room. He motions me to follow. “Now that I’ve seen what you can do, I think it’s best that we get into a routine for you. Try to stick to it as best we can. I hope you’re an early riser.” I nod. “Good, because starting tomorrow, we’ll be running between five and ten miles a day, then doing weight training. Every other day, we’ll toggle between upper and lower body. Sunday, we’ll rest.”

  I gulp. Staten was the military man, but I think McQueen is putting him to shame. I know I need to do this, so I keep my mouth shut.

  “My mom is a health nut, and we don’
t have any junk food in the house. She lets me indulge in sugar cereals, but I don’t eat it all the time. You’ll be eating a lot better than what you’ve probably been used to, especially from the café.”

  Eating better foods isn’t going to be an issue for me. Now, I feel guilty for eating Peanut Butter Captain Crunch this morning.

  “You ready to run?” he asks.

  “Yep, let’s do this.” I step onto the treadmill, and he uses the one next to mine.

  We start at a fast walk and gradually increase speed to a jog. Ten minutes into the warm up, the pace is faster. My shorter legs stretch to keep up with his strides. It’s not a competition per se, but he knows that my fighting skills were lacking. I can’t let him know that my endurance is terrible, too.

  It’s in these moments I’m grateful that I am a runner. I finally get into a good rhythm, so I can now hold a conversation.

  “After this, are we going to practice magic?” I ask.

  “Sure, if you’d like. I’m not anywhere near what Staten can do, but Manny, Bronx, and I can hold our own. We can also call the boys to see what’s going on and if they plan to stop over today with your stuff.”

  I nod. “Why don’t you communicate with them through your mind?”

  He shrugs. “Just never got into it. I talk with them when I have to. You know, emergencies like when I got shot in the park. I didn’t have the strength to find my phone and dial one of them. Besides, I don’t need to know what they are thinking all the time. I like keeping things private.”

  “How come you didn’t enroll into York?” I ask.

  “Staten is always wanting to learn, and what better way than to be at a school. He loves books. The nerd he is.”

  “I know. I’ve seen them in his room.”

  “And Manny and Bronx. They’re tight being both nineteen years old; they have that in common. I’m not like my older brother, and the other two usually didn’t hang out with me. Sure, I’d probably be in the same Level as them, but it’s just different. Plus, I hated normal school. There was no way I was going to attend classes teaching how to slaughter my kin.”

 

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