"So, you'll bang Brett Randolph Elliot but not me? Is that it?"
"What are you talking about? How did you know this is Brett Elliot's place?"
"Your mom told me. I didn't believe her at first, but when I saw this house tonight... You've gotta be fucking him. Why else would he hire you? He must have a thing for fat chicks."
I cursed my mother for opening her big mouth. "Okay, you need to leave." I put a hand on his back to usher him towards the door. He reached out and grabbed my wrist, twisting it behind my back painfully. "Ow," I screamed. Things went from bad to worse, fast. With my wrist locked in his grip Colin forced me back onto the couch and pinned me there.
"Colin, stop it!" I screamed. His hands ran roughly over my breasts, fingers stabbing into my flesh like ice picks. His breath was hot and stunk as he kissed me, pushing his body against mine. I felt his erection through his pants and freed my hand just enough to slap him again. He punched me back, and I tasted blood in my mouth. It mixed with the tears flowing down my cheeks. "Colin, stop it!" I whimpered. "Heeelp!"
Colin ripped my shirt open and had just gotten my pants unzipped when the room suddenly filled with heat. There was a loud sound, like a cross between a roar and a hiss, and Colin was knocked off me. I grasped the ends of my shirt together and stood, trembling, trying to stop the flow of tears. A massive- thing stood in the center of the room. It looked like a… a… dragon. It picked Colin's body up—he was thrashing and screaming—and threw him against the wall. I heard a crack and Colin's body went limp.
Then, the dragon turned toward me.
Chapter 10
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Was my mind was playing tricks on me? It had to be. No, it was a dragon. Wasn’t it? Was I was having some sort of breakdown? I screamed and knocked the wine bottle off the table. A dragon. A real dragon. I wanted to reach out and touch it, but didn't dare. I pinched my skin, thinking maybe I was dreaming, but I didn't wake up.
"Go away!" I hissed, feeling ridiculous. As if it could understand me. Then again, what the hell did I know about dragons? For all I knew they could read and write and line dance. As scared as I was, there was an almost overpowering feeling enveloping my body, drawing me to the creature. It was like some deep cavern within my soul had suddenly opened and I needed only to follow the shining light towards salvation, only this light breathed fire and was supposed to be tucked away in the realms of fantasy books.
The dragon's body filled the room from floor to ceiling. Its skin was gray green. Scales ran the length of its body. I even noticed puffs of smoke coming out of its nostrils. I'm hallucinating. I had to be, but that didn't stop my body from trembling.
Colin's body was crumpled on the floor, limp. He wasn't breathing. I remembered the way his fist had felt as it slammed into my face. The way his hands hadn't paused for even a second when he'd ripped my shirt. I looked again at his body, a rag doll lying on the floor, and was surprised to find that I didn't feel sorry for him. My eyes moved from Colin to the dragon. Whatever this thing in front of me was, it had saved me.
It stepped closer to me, tilting its head to one side like it was examining me, and I backed towards the wall. "It's okay," I said in a soft voice, the kind you'd use when talking to a rabid dog. "Good… dragon." The words sounded ridiculous coming out of my mouth, but I didn't have anything better. How to deal with mythological creatures was not something in my repertoire.
It continued moving towards me until I was flush against the wall. Then it reached out one clawed... paw... I had no idea what to call the flesh that the six-inch claws were attached to... and I realized that there were chains dangling from around its wrists. Heavy, thick chains with matching steel cuffs that were pulled taught around its wrists.
My first semi-coherent thought was that this dragon had eaten Brett. That was the only logical explanation. Then I realized how completely illogical it actually was. Why would Brett's handcuffs be glued to its wrists if it had eaten him? Wouldn't the chains be in its stomach right now, getting digested? I pushed aside an image of Brett's body being eaten away by this creature's stomach acid.
My brain refused to accept the next obvious solution, that this dragon actually was Brett. Even so, I couldn't stop my eyes from searching the dragon's features. My eyes snapped open wide and I stared at its face. Blue eyes stared back at me.
Oh. My. God," I whispered. "Brett?"
It was then that Jeremy burst into the room, a sword in his hand, a gun at his side. He saw Brett and me by the wall, Colin's body dead on the floor, and quickly jumped to conclusions.
"It's alright," he called to me, taking big, slow steps towards us, the sword out and ready. I was sort of shocked to see how un-shocked Jeremy was about the situation. I mean, a giant dragon was in the room with us and Jeremy was looking at it like it was a pet dog. Brett watched Jeremy with wary eyes. I reached out a protective hand. Whatever Brett was, he had saved me.
"Don't hurt him!" I shouted. "He didn't do anything."
Jeremy scoffed, his eyes darting to Colin's body. "He's killed a man."
I searched for the right words to save Brett from the sharp blade that Jeremy held tightly in his hand, and settled on the truth. "That man was attacking me. He... he tried to..." I couldn't finish the thought. Jeremy finally seemed to notice me—really notice me, not just observe my presence in the room. I saw his eyes roll over my body, taking in my bloody lip, the bruising and swelling on my cheek that was becoming more pronounced by the second, and my torn shirt.
"Are you alright?" Jeremy asked, his eyes and voice softening. The dragon—I mean Brett—shuffled his feet and let out a monstrous sound that reminded me of a train whistle. Jeremy continued to move closer to us, and now withdrew something from his pocket that looked like a Taser gun.
"What is that?" I asked. "What the hell is going on here anyways?" I felt like I was insane. I desperately wanted answers to the millions of questions swarming my head. The dragon flashed a claw at Jeremy when he got close and I saw Jeremy hesitate before moving in again.
"Don't hurt him!" I shouted. Even as a dragon, I still felt drawn to Brett like a magnet. Actually, the pull was even stronger now than it had been since my arrival. I didn't know whether it was because Brett had just saved me, or if the weirdness in me was just enamored with the idea that he was a dragon, but something about him made my body ache for him even more.
"I'm not going to hurt him," Jeremy snapped. "I just have to get him back to his room." Maybe I was being too hard on Jeremy. I'd never liked him, but now, watching the fearlessness with which he wielded his sword in a dangerous situation, I had a newfound respect for him.
Then he moved in, shooting Brett not with a Taser as I'd thought, but some sort of needle. "It's a calming agent," he said to me. Brett thrashed his tail around and a stream of fire burned the front row of seats in the theater, then his glowing blue eyes relaxed. I saw them swim with intoxication. The dragon swayed on his feet and Jeremy threw a chain around his neck. The dragon protested only mildly before allowing himself to be led away.
I watched it thunder down the hall with Jeremy. It was amazing to see the enormous creature that only an hour before I would have sworn existed only in fiction, head down the hall towards Brett's room. My mind tried to go dark. This was all too much for me. Why did I invite Colin over? I wished that I'd never accepted the job with Brett.
Did I wish that? This morning, Brett had pulled the shards of glass from my arm with the tender care of a lover. I remembered our brief moment together two weeks ago, when his lips had met mine and my insides yearned for more. If I could go back, would I really change any of that?
No.
Jeremy spun around and growled me, "Wait here,"
"Why? I want to help." Even in this state Brett seemed perfectly aware of who I was and what was happening. He didn't seem dangerous at all, not to me, just hurt and alone.
"It's too dangerous," he said. When he saw I wasn't leaving, he said, "Go to the kitchen. I'll meet
you there when I'm through."
I started to protest, but Jeremy's eyes flashed a dangerous look at me. Despite my newfound admiration for his courage, I'd never trusted him, and I didn't want to cross him now, especially when he was still armed. If Jeremy didn't come to me when he was done, though, I would find him.
I would get some answers.
Chapter 11
Jeremy walked into the kitchen a half hour later, silently, and began making tea. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles and I noticed a slight shake in his hands when he offered me a mug. I sipped at the tea, waiting for him to begin. I had too many questions to ask and didn't even know where to start. This whole night had been long and tiring, and all I really wanted was to climb into bed and go to sleep, but I knew I'd never rest until I had some answers. When Jeremy took the seat across from me, I thought we were finally ready to begin. Instead, he sipped his own tea and ignored me. I snapped.
"What the hell is going on here?" I demanded. "You said you'd tell me everything."
Jeremy chuckled and a delicate smile ran across his face. "Did I? I don't recall saying that."
My mouth hung open. Blood boiled in my veins. "Maybe you didn't say that exactly, but it was implied. Anyway, I'm not leaving you alone until I get some answers." He didn't look convinced so I let the actress in me take over. A little melodrama might help a situation like this. "I'll follow you everywhere. Day and night. Wherever you go. Whatever you do, I'll be there. Imagine how much fun it will be when you're in the bathroom and I'm standing behind you watching you pee."
Jeremy laughed then. It was such a warm and happy sound I couldn't help but laugh with him.
He set his mug on the table and looked into my eyes. I noticed for the first time that they were deep golden brown with hints of green lurking in the back. They were actually quite beautiful. A twinge of guilt prickled me. All this time I'd suspected Jeremy of conspiring against Brett, but it turns out that he was conspiring with Brett. Maybe even helping him.
"None of that will be necessary," Jeremy said. "Though I appreciate the gusto of your threat." The smile hinted at his lips again. "What do you know about dragons?"
"They don't exist," I responded automatically. "Er... well, I mean, that's the, uh, conventional wisdom." I sounded like an idiot. Dragons clearly did exist. I'd just seen one. I was working for one.
"What else?" Jeremy asked. His questions were irritating. He was supposed to be answering questions, not asking them.
"They breathe fire and... are big and mean and scary. I don't know. Just tell me what's going on."
Jeremy hesitated. I think he was searching for a way to begin. "Not only do dragons exist, Brett is one... as am I."
I stared at Jeremy with my mouth hanging open. "You're a dragon?" He nodded. "But... but then why aren't you locked up in some room too? Chained to some wall?"
"Because," Jeremy said, his eyes sparkling for a second before answering, "I have my treasure to keep me sane."
"Your treasure?" He nodded again, smiling, as if this explained everything. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?" I asked, annoyed at his cryptic answers.
Jeremy sighed. "Every dragon has a treasure to hoard. It is what prevents us from losing ourselves to the beast within. You asked why I am not locked up? Because I can control myself. I can shift at will. Brett has lost that ability. He has never found his treasure, and his time has run out. At this point, there is little hope. His control is almost completely gone. When it is, he will be put down."
My head was swimming. "Put down? Did you say... do you mean… killed?" Jeremy nodded, and I caught a hint of regret in his eyes. "Why? How could you do that?"
"Because," Jeremy said. "without control, he is dangerous to everyone. Including you."
“How the hell much treasure does a man… er, dragon need to find?” I waved my arms around indicating the opulence of Brett’s estate. I could only begin to imagine the wealth he’s amassed as one of the most esteemed producers in the industry.
“A dragon’s treasure is not the same as a treasure in the traditional sense of the word. It’s not necessarily gold, or money. For me, it’s the land I own that calls to my dragon’s heart." Jeremy quietly explained.
I jumped up from my chair and started pacing the room. "This doesn't make any sense. You know that right? You tell me that dragons are real and they need some sort of treasure to guard or they lose their minds? I feel like I've lost my mind."
Jeremy shook his head and made little clicking noises that dug into my back like nails. "You need to calm down. Think about this objectively. How can we allow an uncontrolled dragon to live amongst people? He would kill everyone he met. You saw the beast." He stood from the table and poured himself some more tea. "Our people go back a millennium. It is part of our heritage. Part of our clan."
My head throbbed with too much new information. "You're saying there's a whole clan of you?"
Jeremy nodded. "In Ireland, where we're from, it's common knowledge. Some say our clan was cursed centuries ago and now its descendants all suffer. Some say our dragon heritage was a gift from the gods to help us defend our villages. Either way, every male descendant for centuries has been born with the power to shift."
"So," I asked. "What's gone wrong with Brett? If you guys are used to this sort of thing, I'd think he could find his treasure in no time." Jeremy looked sad as he answered my question.
"It’s not that easy. The treasure is different for every dragon. A man never knows what it will be that his dragon’s heart latches onto—what his dragon treasures."
"Can't you help him figure it out? I mean, there must be clues."
Jeremy shook his head. "I've tried. Nothing has worked. After what I saw tonight, I now know that Brett doesn’t have much longer."
My heart hammered in my chest. "Are you really going to kill him?" I whispered. The idea horrified me. Jeremy didn't answer, he just looked away. He couldn't even meet my eyes.
I set my mug on the counter and left the room.
"Where are you going?" Jeremy asked, following me.
"To see Brett."
"Not possible," he said.
I spun around so fast he ran into me. "Not possible? Are you kidding me? After today, anything is possible!" I spun back around and continued towards Brett's room.
"Of course," Jeremy said, trying to reason with me. He stretched out an arm and put his hand on my shoulder, halting me. "But just because something is possible doesn't mean you should do it. Especially when it's so dangerous."
I ignored him, but slowed my pace. "He didn't hurt me earlier. He could have if he'd wanted to. He saved me." I squared my shoulders and steadied my gaze. "I trust him."
Jeremy laughed. It was deep and throaty and irritating as hell. "Trust? There is no trust when it comes to dragons." But I wasn't going to relent so easily. He sighed. "Fine. You want to see Brett? Let me show you then."
He jumped ahead of me in the hall and now I followed him to Brett's room. Jeremy punched in the key code and pushed the door open. The room was filled with smoke. It stung my eyes. I could barely breathe.
"Oh my God," I said, panic rising. Despite my desire to run, I stepped into the room. Brett's eyes weren't the blue I'd come to love anymore, they were a muddy brown, flecks of black ran throughout them, making him look almost demonic. He was chained to the wall and thrashed wildly around, trying to break free. His razor claws slashed through the air, and I remembered how close I'd been to them. He roared at me like he didn't even recognize me.
"Satisfied?" Jeremy asked.
I nodded. He shut the door and walked me to my room. "Don't worry about the body," he said, and I realized he was referring to Colin. "I'll take care of it." I wondered what that meant exactly. Would he bury Colin's body in a cemetery somewhere? Burn it in a fire? I decided I didn't want to know. I shut the door on him, no longer tired, my mind racing as I tried to think of some way to help Brett before it was too late.
Chapter 12
&n
bsp; The next morning, I walked to Brett's room with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. I'd thought of a million more questions during the night, and I intended to make him answer them all. I punched the key pad and pushed the door open, the image of Brett as a dragon still etched in my mind. What if he was still a dragon when I went in? What if he was still thrashing around with his giant claws and fire-breath? But, when I stepped inside, he was just Brett. He was sitting on his bed, newly reinforced chains and cuffs strapped to him like a wild animal, which I supposed in many ways he was.
He looked up as I entered. His eyes focused intently on me as I crossed the room. I wasn't sure, but for a second I thought I saw him blush.
"Hi there," I said, trying to sound playful. It came out stilted and awkward. I uncuffed him and turned away as he tucked the charred remains of a bedsheet around his waist.
He stood up, stretching his arms and legs out. "Er... Do you remember last night?" I asked. His eyes answered me with a pained expression. He remembered.
He looked up at the ceiling for a minute or two. I wanted to start asking my questions, but Brett seemed so frazzled right now that I didn't want to make his frustrations any worse. I finally understood what precipitated his mood swings. He wasn’t suffering from mental illness, he was angry and frustrated that despite all of his success in life, he’d failed at his most important task. He’d failed to find his treasure, and for that failure, punishment would be death.
"I apologize," he said, his voice strong but his head drooping.
"For what?" I asked, dumbfounded.
He looked at me incredulous. "For killing your boyfriend."
"Ex-boyfriend," I corrected. "And he deserved what he got for trying to... How could you be sorry? Are you sorry that you saved me from him?" Suddenly I was angry. Angry at the secrets Brett had kept from me. Angry at the connection I felt to him, because I wasn't sure that he felt it too.
Bears of Burden: WYATT Page 106