by K W Quinn
But she was getting tired sitting here. She’d slept crappily for days, and between that and Dez’s workouts, she was exhausted. Andy and Dez would be gone for hours. It wouldn’t hurt to take a little nap. She should stay rested to better take care of Cass.
She sighed and smiled. She grabbed a spare pillow and leaned back on her elbows. Just a little nap. She would be right here if he needed her. She would be right here.
Struggle
Cass was sweaty and uncomfortable, tangled up in heavy covers. He was too weak and tired to move, though. So he whined a bit to make himself feel better. It didn’t help as much as he’d hoped, so he did it again, a little louder.
Then his covers shushed him. These fever dreams were weird. He rolled his head around to try to shake his sweaty hair out of his face without having to use his hands. It was too much effort. His head felt full of cotton. Wet cotton.
He wriggled his toes and tried to stretch his back against the weight of his blankets. They shushed him again. Cass opened his eyes and craned his neck to see that his covers were made of Kaida. He became uncomfortable in new and exciting ways.
It was weird to see her like this. Not on top of him. He’d only seen that in his imagination. No, a relaxed Kaida was something else. Her face was soft and smooth. Tendrils of dark hair had escaped her braid and curled around her temples.
He let his head fall back to avoid being creepy and watching her sleep. Not because his head was too heavy for his neck to hold up. He wasn’t that weak. Was he?
Why was Kaida here? Where was Andy? And Dez?
A phone was ringing somewhere around Cass’s knees. Kaida squirmed and fumbled for the phone, which pushed new parts of her against new parts of him, and he lay very, very still.
“’Lo?” she answered groggily. Her voice was raspy and sexy. Eavesdropping wasn’t very noble, but he was too tired to care much.
Kaida grunted something that might have been intended as agreement and rolled over. Cass felt cold without her.
“He’s fine. Sleeping. Still feverish, yeah. Where are you? What? What time is it?” Kaida’s voice was gaining clarity fast. “What do you mean tomorrow? You can’t stay all night. I can’t stay here all night. There’s no room. And what if I catch whatever he’s got? I’m serious, Dez, you have to come home. It’s just rain.”
Thunder rumbled outside, shaking the van.
“And thunder,” Kaida added. “Hail? Really? Yeah, all right. Fine. Be safe. No, it’ll be fine. I’ll try to get him to drink some water when he wakes up. Yes. Yes. I will. Yes, I will. Dez, I will.”
Kaida groaned.
“Stupid storm.”
Cass kept his eyes shut, hoping his face was the right amount of relaxed. Kaida rustled around, shifting the bed and pulling the covers askew.
Cass whined despite himself. He was cold. The air felt too sharp against his skin. Kaida was there quickly, covering him up. She shushed him again and rubbed his forehead. Her normally warm hands felt cool against his skin. He smiled and nuzzled into her.
“I may be part dragon,” Kaida muttered, “but you are part cat, I swear.” Her hands kept a gentle rhythm, fingers combing through his hair. “And here we are. Stuck in this funky van while crazy weather has Dez and Andy pinned in town. I should have gone. Then Andy would be here. I wonder what those two are going to get up to, snuggling up in Dez’s camper. I bet Andy tries to flirt with Dez. I mean, more than normal. Dez kicks in her sleep, though. Still better than the back of my car. Stupid witches leaving at the wrong time. Stupid rain. Stupid target.”
Cass listened to the sound of her voice, letting it wash over him. The words didn’t matter, just that she was there, not guarded for once. Cass hated being guarded with her. He wanted to unzip himself and let everything spill out. All the secrets and weirdness.
He wasn’t free to do that. He wasn’t free at all. He was being hunted, and his soul was owned by someone else. Someone else always had dibs on Cass. On his time, his talents, his energy, his love. Cass always had someone to take care of. He’d had to shield his mom from the worst of the derision of a town that needed her and hated her for being necessary. He’d had to save Andy from his dad and the Earth. And now he was being told he had to save the world.
He couldn’t even save himself.
The thoughts swirled in his head. They chased themselves around and got tangled with his feelings. They brewed, cooked with the heat of his fever.
Kaida was there, a presence and a voice drifting somewhere outside himself. He let sleep come, ushered in by her soft fingers in his hair.
Reyah watched him sleep. The night was almost over. Damn the witches for not checking their voicemail.
She let her head rest against the inside of the van, watching the target. His breathing was labored. He was sweaty, and his face was pale. Whatever was making him sick wasn’t getting better.
His dreams had ranged from terror to rage, filled with moments of being trapped and pressed, falling from heights, reaching for loved ones, crushing rejection, and blisteringly cold wrath. She heard them all as echoes in her head—sounds of shrieking, the whistling of the wind, gulls crying over the water. Being around him while he was sleeping was exhausting.
But sleeping with him, sleeping next to him, was too much too. Never mind that it was the most rested she’d felt in weeks. She would ignore the fact that she’d been perfectly comfortable and at peace lying with her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She needed to forget all that and focus on her work.
Someday, this job would be over, and she’d have to get back to other jobs. Because being a Dragon was all she was good for. She couldn’t make a life performing in small towns. She couldn’t walk away from her training and Tarone. But could she go back to the life she’d known? Could she work for the Conglomerate after this?
She wanted to sleep and forget everything. The revolution. The target. Her training. But she couldn’t.
So she kept herself awake by talking through her life story. It sounded ridiculous out loud. Left on the doorstep of an assassin with a note, raised by mercenaries, filled with teenage angst about not belonging and never knowing her mother. What a drama.
“But then what happened?” His sleep-raspy voice startled Reyah out of her thoughts.
“What?”
“You stopped in the middle of a sentence. Your mom moved to the mountains. With a captain?”
“Capricorn. I didn’t realize you were awake.”
“I’m not sure I am,” he mumbled through a yawn. “I’ve had some weird dreams.”
“I know,” Reyah said before she could catch herself.
“Yeah, Andy says I talk in my sleep sometimes. Sorry about that.”
Reyah shook her head and grabbed the bottle of water she’d been coaxing him to drink from. “Here. Have a sip.”
He pushed himself up on his elbows and grabbed for it, drinking greedily.
“Slow down. You’ve been out of it for a while.”
“Right. Sorry. Thanks.” He handed the bottle back and curled up in the nest of blankets he’d twisted around himself. “So, did you ever meet your mom?”
Reyah shook her head. “Tarone says she doesn’t want to be found.”
“My mom is great. A bit kooky. Old-fashioned.”
“I remember.”
“She made what money she could being a fortune-teller. Nobody admitted that they used her, but everybody did. She’s welcoming. An amazing cook. If you need a mom, you can share mine.”
Reyah smiled softly. “What a strange marriage proposal.”
He shook his head, squinting at her. “Not marriage. I don’t think. But Andy and I share moms. Our moms are special. Sorry, this is hard. Thinking.”
“Then don’t. I accept your offer to share a mother, should the need ever arise.”
“When I ask you to marry me, I’ll be less cryptic.”
Reyah scowled at his rumpled face and hair. “When you what?”
“Figure I’l
l get around to it eventually. Can’t stand to think about leaving you. Want you around for . . .” His voice disappeared into a yawn.
“This fever has you delirious. Who exactly do you think I am?” She didn’t like the way his words made her heart race.
“You’re my dragon. Much nicer than the one I had before. That was a mean dragon, but you’re a nice dragon. Kin. Dragonkin. Best one. Best everything and I love you.”
Reyah forced a laugh out, a high-pitched, squeaky noise filled with more panic than humor.
“I’m not your anything,” she protested. Her stomach was flopping around like a dying fish.
He blinked his eyes, seeming to focus more. “I’m not claiming you. You’re your own. But I love you. I won’t burden you with my feelings, but I wanted you to know them.”
“All right. Fine. You’re nice. But I can’t. I have to do things, and after that, I don’t know where I’ll be going, and you won’t want me—”
“Yes, I will,” he said. There was a strange weight to his words. A clarity that didn’t fit with his feverish dreaming. The seam of the blanket was unraveling, and she pinched it together.
“Look. I have many feelings.” She shook her head. “Strong and positive feelings. For you. But I can’t. I just can’t.”
“All right,” he said through another yawn. “It’s all right. I can just love you. I don’t have to have you. You’re amazing, and you don’t owe me anything. I can be quiet and just be in love. Over here. By myself.” His voice trailed off into sleepy mumbles.
Reyah hugged her knees to keep her heart behind an extra layer of protection. She wanted to throw it out the window. She wanted to throw it to Cass. She wanted Cass.
She tugged harshly on her braid and chewed on her bottom lip. He was asleep now, and his fever raged on. Maybe he would forget this whole thing in the morning. She would pretend it never happened. Dez and Andy would come back, and they would take him to a doctor or the witches. Then he would glow again, healthy and whole.
Then she would use her soul blade and leave. It was the only option. It was her job and her duty and what Tarone would do. She’d always done what he would do. So she would do it again. Her eyes prickled with tears she didn’t know how to shed.
Wet
“Did you call Charly?” Dez asked for approximately the eighteenth time.
“Yes. Of course I did. Called many times and left many messages. Still no answer.” Andy ran his hands through his hair and stared at the sweaty mess that was his best friend.
“It was a long night, and he’s not showing much improvement,” Kaida said. She was still hovering over him.
“When did you give him medicine last?” Dez asked, crouching down to feel Cass’s skin.
“About an hour ago.” Kaida chewed on her thumb. Andy had never seen her like this. Strong and silent, silly and shy, but never worried.
“No good,” Dez said. “The fever isn’t breaking. We need to get him in the water.”
“Are you crazy? Water started this in the first place,” Andy protested.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, if we don’t bring his temperature down, he’s gonna cook his own brain.”
Andy sighed, but Kaida picked Cass up without waiting for an answer. She was so strong, but she handled Cass like he would break into pieces. All the way down the beach, she cradled him in her arms, not stopping until the water reached above her knees.
Cass groaned and tried to pull away, but Kaida shushed him and lowered him until his feet brushed the sand under the waves.
“I’m wet,” Cass said.
“Yes, you are,” Andy and Kaida said in unison.
“Relax, love. We’re trying to bring the fever down.” Dez cupped some water in her hands and let it trickle out over his arms.
Andy rubbed Cass’s back. “We’re here. We’re all taking care of you.”
“Can you sit for a while, love? Let the water cool you? I’m gonna get towels.”
Kaida lowered herself to sit in the waves. Cass came along limply.
“This is uncomfortable,” he whined.
“Better than an ice bath,” Andy warned. The water chilled his skin. He could only imagine how it felt to Cass’s fever-baked body.
“You’re comfortable,” Cass mumbled, leaning in to rest his head on Kaida.
“I’ve got sand in unmentionable places,” she retorted.
“Oh. Sorry. I meant you are comfortable to me. For me. On me? You know what I mean, right? Andy, tell her what I mean,” Cass implored weakly.
Andy rolled his eyes. “You’re like a pillow, only better,” he offered.
“I’m thrilled. Now be still and think fever-breaking thoughts before it rains on us,” Kaida grumbled. Andy nodded, watching the dark clouds blow across the water.
Cass nodded. “Yeah. I feel like squash.”
Kaida looked at Andy with her head tilted, but he only shrugged. Not even he was up to translating that one.
Dez returned with towels, shaking her head. “Too many storms. He’s got to get control.”
“You still think this is all Cass?” Kaida asked before Andy could.
Trapped with Andy in her camper, Dez had spent a good portion of the night outlining several possible theories about how to break into Cass’s potential, but it all hinged on him admitting that his feelings were manifesting in the weather. And right now, he couldn’t admit to much of anything. Andy was ready to admit that it made more sense than cosmic coincidence.
“I’m doing the atmospheric attuning. I’m attuning. The atmosphere,” Cass answered. His head dropped, and his shaggy hair dangled in the water.
“Then think happy thoughts,” Andy said, watching Kaida adjust Cass’s head with tenderness.
“I can do that. I like kittens and tacos and painting and sweet coffee and strawberries.” Cass gave a half grin. “Does that help?” His face split with a loud yawn.
Andy glanced at the clouds. “Maybe. But how about things you like a little more?”
“I like you,” Cass said.
“I know,” Andy and Kaida said in unison. Again.
Andy’s head whipped around. He’d assumed Cass was responding to him, but Cass had lifted his head, staring at Kaida. Water dripped from the tips of his hair onto his hands, which were holding hers.
“I do. It’s not a . . . well, it might be, but I don’t think it is because I haven’t felt like this before, and I’ve had a lot of . . . well, not a lot, but . . . all right, yeah, I’ve had a lot of crushes. But I like more than just your outsides. Which are great, by the way. Really nice and amazing and your—”
“Enough of that,” Kaida said. She was glaring at the sand, but she hadn’t let go of Cass’s hands.
“You like me too.” Typical Cass. Couldn’t stay quiet.
“Yep. I like you. And hot sauce and hoodies and hippopotamuses and—”
“Say it again,” Cass mumbled. He was sleepy or groggy with fever or tired from talking. It could be any of those things or all of them. Andy wanted to rush him back to the van. He glanced at Dez, but she was watching Kaida too.
“Say what?” Kaida asked.
“That you like me.”
“I like you.”
“I knew it.” Cass rested his head on her shoulder again.
“You just said you knew.”
“I was bluffing.”
Kaida smiled, and Andy smiled too. Maybe it was more than just a Cass-style infatuation. Kaida definitely had feelings for him too. Which was helpful.
If Cass’s emotions were causing storms, Andy didn’t want to see what kind of nightmare weather a broken-hearted Cass could conjure.
“I’m fine. I feel much better,” Cass grumbled. Andy was hovering, and Cass just wanted to be treated like a functioning adult again.
“You’re still running a fever, and you get winded after three steps,” Andy countered.
“Yeah, but I don’t need help to pee anymore.”
“Low threshold.”
> “I’m working with what I’ve got. I can’t stand being here like a lump, making everyone worry and fuss and spend money.”
“Dez is adamant about getting you to a doctor. If we had been able to make enough tips before that storm blew in, you’d be there already.”
“I’m sorry you had to put up with those jerks,” Cass said, guilt twisting his mouth into a pout.
“It wasn’t too bad. Dez was so cool. She just grabbed the basket and walked off, didn’t even let them get to her. Says she’s had worse hecklers before.”
“You said they called her pond scum. That seems pretty bad.”
Andy shook his head. “I would have made an ugly scene, but she was so smooth. But stop changing the subject,” Andy said, poking a finger in his ribs. “Dez says doctor, so we’re getting you one. I’m surprised she hasn’t threatened someone into treating you while she goes and steals the money.”
“That seems extreme,” Cass grumbled.
“There’s no telling when Charly and Amel will get back. They won’t return our calls, and you are a little better, but what if something is really wrong, Cass?”
Cass crossed his arms and sank down in his chair. He stared at the teas and herbs in the witches’ kitchen. He hated seeing Andy worry like this, but he didn’t feel that sick anymore. He was getting better.
“I need to rest some more. A nap, some soup, a little TLC.” Cass waggled his eyebrows.
Andy rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You think you’re lovesick?”
Cass shrugged. “No. Not like that, but also, yeah. Andy, she’s—”
“I know. Believe me, I know. I’ve heard an exhaustive list of her virtues nearly every day. I’m happy for you, but you can’t lose sight of the bigger issue here.”
“That Dez thinks I’m some sort of world-saving miracle person? I’m—”