All But Human (Fate Fire Shifter Dragon Book 5)
Page 27
A too loud, too high-pitched laugh grated from her throat. The part of her that knew it could get away with everything pirouetted and laughed, because everything was within its grasp.
She’d split Vivicus in two for this.
“The team in St. Paul is transferring Mr. Sisto to Praesagio’s Special Medical Unit,” Gavin said. “Daisy says her dad is sending another plane from Portland to fetch Renee. She wants me on it. Says I’ll be safer there than here, or with you.”
He stays, her seers chorused at the same time they screamed the exact opposite: He won’t be safe with you.
With you because she was a Fate. A Parcae. And the arrogance of the Parcae put people with you where they needed to be even if it got them killed.
An accusation that swelled outward from Daisy like a blister.
Fates are bad news flickered off Daisy the way if flickered off every single Shifter Rysa knew. All Fates—the good ones working for her father. The ugly ones living in low-powered triads scattered around the globe who made money by using a lot of bullshit to dupe people. The powerful ones like Rysa’s mother, or the Prime Ulpi triads in Portland. And the bad ones like Trajan or the War Babies, or the fucker who shot Andreas.
All Fates had a combination of goodness, ugliness, power, and badness. In Daisy’s experience, they were more powerful and bad than they were anything else, Rysa included.
Beat it out of her. Rysa whipped around. Her seers snapped outward, long, gripping tentacles of power, and snatched at the woman she considered her friend. Make her tell you all about the ugliness of Fates.
Quiet! Rysa hissed. Her seers needed to shut the fuck up.
“Step back, Renee.” Rysa got between The Land’s bar manager and Daisy. “I need Gavin in Texas.”
Daisy’s face flashed instantly from confusion to rage. “He can’t be in this fight,” she said, her teeth clenched. “He got hurt at the house!” She glared over Rysa’s shoulder at Dragon.
You need some girl talk in a quiet place. Rysa twitched. Not happening right now.
Daisy huffed and squared her body to Rysa. “You are not functioning well. You didn’t see—”
“You didn’t smell Vivicus, bloodhound.”
Daisy’s lips thinned. Her eyes narrowed. “You brought—”
“—commotion into your scrubbed and tidy life?” Rysa felt her fists and jaw clenching and unclenching. “I disturbed you, didn’t I? I opened up a door and I waved Gavin in and now you’re blaming me because you don’t trust him to handle this life?”
Daisy’s nose crinkled as if she’d smelled the acid stench of a Burner. She stepped back. “Why are we fighting about this? Ladon needs our help.”
“We are going to help him the way his Prime Fate commands.” Rysa stepped into the space Daisy just vacated. “Get on the plane.”
The pitch of Daisy’s voice rose. “What’s going to happen when you yank Brother-Dragon away from my cousin? Are you going to mess up his mind because your goal is Ladon and everyone else be damned?” She waved her hand at Derek, then Gavin. “What if Gavin gets slammed again? Who’s going to die in the crossfire, Rysa?”
“No one dies.” No deaths. No more echoes. This stops now. All Rysa wanted was a calm life with her man and her dragon and she was about to clear the necessary path to get what she wanted.
Ladon once told her that she could have what she wanted.
A snarl twitched Daisy’s lip. “Are you sure? A lot of shit’s been getting by you lately. So who’s it going to be? Who are you going to let die because fate demands that the one true path be followed and that person is an expendable brick in the road?”
Rysa swung. The punch came out of nowhere, an action made by her body without her permission. Her fist balled, her back and bicep contracted, and Rysa Torres landed a full-on jab to Daisy’s nose.
“Your mother’s sticky fingers brought the shard to this country. You’re the one who opened that locker for Vivicus!” Her fist rose for another punch. “If Ladon dies—if Andreas dies—it’s your fault, not mine!”
“Rysa!” Gavin caught her arm. “Stop!”
Daisy’s nose bled. She stared at Rysa, her eyes wide, but she didn’t say anything more.
Now, her present-seer whispered.
Rysa wrapped her hands around Gavin’s head. She jerked him flush against her body as she opened her mouth.
She breathed out ‘clearheaded’ as she locked her lips over his, kissing him with what to Daisy, she was sure, looked like passion. But that was the point.
As she lifted away her mouth, she added ‘obsess,’ then quickly kissed him again. “Immediate need in St. Paul for security and medical personnel,” she said.
Gavin snapped back from her hold. “Jesus, Rysa!” He wiped at his lips, but he stared at her as if repeating in his mind the words she’d just whispered into his lips.
“Go over there, Gavin.” Rysa pointed at a small building not near the plane where Renee waited. “Make my kisses into memories you will never forget.”
Rysa walked away, toward her Dragon. The beast stumbled and shambled but he was alive and warm. He needed her. She needed him.
At least she had that.
Chapter Forty-Six
The big SUV bumped along the Texas county road. Cold air blasted into the back, over Ladon’s face, and in direct opposition to the heat radiating upward from the seat under his cheek.
Vivicus whistled as he drove. Occasionally, he checked the rearview mirror and played with his version of Ladon’s goatee as if he was a silent movie villain.
The thing in Ladon’s throat wiggled and giggled just like the villain up front.
“The way I figure it,” Vivicus droned, “your sweetie and your pet will show up soon enough, if they don’t beat us to the property.” He shrugged. “Fates being Fates and all. They got no class. Always in other people’s business.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Ladon mumbled.
Vivicus positioned the rearview mirror so that Ladon got a good look at his rolled eyes.
He continued to drone on. “So we need to be smart about how we handle this situation.”
How Ladon would kill the bastard eluded him at the moment. He felt heavy. Moving his arms took effort, and his left refused to move at all. Blood still oozed from some wound or another. Ladon couldn’t tell which; they all hurt the same. Then he’d pass out for gods knew how long, and spend an immeasurable amount of time swimming with ghosts and shades and dreams of things that never happened.
“There’s still value to you, ya know? Leverage. I can trade your corpse for a shot at the other dragon.” Vivicus shrugged again. “I was in her head after your sister knifed my brain. She’s a firebrand, that one. High strung.”
They hit a bump and Ladon rocked against the back of the seats. Where was his Dragon? He’d been sliced in half. No, he’d lost more than half of himself. The world looked flat now, as if an entire physical dimension had been stripped away.
“All these years and I never thought to get between you and the beast.” Vivicus snorted and scratched at his head. “No one realized that you and my Dragon are never more than what, two hundred? Three hundred? Feet apart. Not until I had my people gather intel. I told them ‘Watch. Record. Don’t think about it. And for the love of God don’t talk about it.’”
He snorted again. “Because Fates, you know? The more people who discuss, the more visible it gets for those sons of bitches.”
And yet here Vivicus babbled.
“Spying on you has finally paid off.” He took a corner and the SUV slowed down. “I know your secrets.” The blinker clicked on/off, on/off, and Vivicus took another corner. “That’s what got me thinking about the beast’s name. I figure he’s got one but you two keep it quiet. Then I got a peek at his sister’s mind.”
The SUV stopped and Vivicus looked over his shoulder. “See, I know your sweetie’s coming. Can’t get around that, even with a piece of her granddaddy’s talisman in my belly.” He rubbed his mid
section. “But I know how to hide from Fates. I know how to make the best of a bad situation, and how to fortify my properties to make them the best.” He pointed out the window. “The best.”
Slowly, Ladon sat up. The SUV sat in the parking space near the front of a new-looking, wide, low building. Young people milled around, many with packs on their backs and phones in their hands. A few looked up at the storm clouds rolling in on the horizon.
Wooziness made him waver but he leaned against the seat. He gripped the handle on the SUV door and yanked, but it did no good. He couldn’t get out. Couldn’t tell the kids to run. “You brought me to a high school?”
“The Victor D. Victor Magnet School for the Life Sciences, built by yours truly for the spawn of Abilene’s bestest, snobbiest, and loudest a-holes. Donated the land. Constructed it with my own company. I know all the special ways in and out.”
Vivicus rubbed his hands together. “I used to have the best medical facility in North America right here, under that there building.” He nodded toward the school. “Do you know what it takes to build underground around here? Lots and lots of popped Burners. Hehe.”
A school. Ladon closed his eyes. Vivicus was going to dissect him in a high school.
“My labs are still there. Have been all this time. Those three scary fucks showed me how to keep them hidden. Said nothing sends chaos into the what-was-is-will-be better than the whining of privileged teenagers. Said they used that trick more times than they could count and I believe them. Little fuckers.” He rubbed the tip of his nose as he hung a disability tag on the rearview mirror. “Mix some burndust into the foundation and there you have it, a Fate-proof bunker of Seraphim goodness.”
Faster than Ladon could respond—fast like a Burner—Vivicus whipped around and snatched Ladon by the neck. “You and I, we’re going in for some private time. I’ll take my slug and you, well, you’re going to sit quietly while I digest the good stuff.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
Vivicus rolled his eyes again. “Will you stop with that? You’re not going to kill me. I’m your pet’s new master. You’re going to kneel before me and kiss my ankles and then I’m going to fuck your wife and gut your sister because that’s how I roll.” He tossed Ladon against the seat.
“How long do you think it will be before one of the Fates gets the bright idea to check on the Abilene site?” Vivicus snapped his fingers. “My guess is it’s going to be the little bitch’s mommy. She was here, you know. Stole my best healer.” He sniffed. “Think I’ll vivisect him, too. Could use a dose of healing ability.” He rubbed his midsection again.
Vivicus dug around in the glove compartment. “Ah! ID tags. Hmmm…” He waved it in Ladon’s direction as his face slithered and re-formed. “Old face for an old identity.” He rolled out the side of the SUV and yanked open the back before opening Ladon’s door.
He held up a jacket. “Put this on and be quiet. You talk or stumble or do anything that gets attention, I’ll kill every kid in the building, got it?”
Vivicus looked out, over the SUV. “Let’s go home, asshole.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
“The Victor D. Victor Magnet School for the Life Sciences?” Derek pointed across Rysa’s face at the big, wide building. “Vivicus named a high school after himself?”
Buses lined up in front of the school’s entrance and parents in cars waited in the lot with their windows rolled up against the consistent rain of a Texas winter storm.
Rysa stopped the rental service van along the side of the road in front of the giant glass and beige-gray concrete building. Daisy and Gavin pulled up behind and cut their rented sedan’s engine. With all the cars around, they wouldn’t look out of place.
“I do not sense him either, beast,” Derek said.
Dragon moped in the back of the big van, squished between shelves with his head through the door situated between the front seats. The beast didn’t have room to roll over, much less try to sign, and had no choice but to rely on Derek to communicate.
Rysa dropped out the door into the rain. Her sneakers hit the Texas pavement and she bounced a little, feeling for wind and air pressure and forces beyond their control. She opened the utilitarian fabric of her umbrella and held it up over her head.
Of course Vivicus would draw them here while the sky wept. Seemed apropos.
Around the high school, the what-was-is-will-be boiled, a cauldron of angst, dreams, broken hearts, and burndust.
“You know, Vivicus told me about this place when he snatched me,” she said.
Derek walked around the front of the van, the rain sluicing off the brim of his hat. “Perhaps he is a simple man drowning in a well of despair. Perhaps when he surfaces, he calls for help by speaking the truths of what holds him.”
Gavin, umbrella in hand, stepped out of the sedan and pointed at the school. “What’s the D stand for? Douchebag?”
From under her umbrella, Daisy snapped a photo of the building. After a moment, she held up her phone. “Dad wants us to wait.”
Across the road, the day’s final bell blared. The doors burst open and student after student spilled out.
In twenty minutes, the building would be clear, but not anywhere near empty. It’d be a few more hours before the last of the students and teachers headed home.
Waiting would decrease collateral damage. But, as Daisy pointed out, the appointed path was the path fate wanted taken.
Kids yelled. Parents pulled out of the lot. Teachers and aides milled about. And somewhere in there, Vivicus held Ladon.
Now, her seers chorused.
Rysa snagged Gavin around the neck again, their umbrellas knocking, but this time she ramped up his surprise and his anxiety about the kiss with a big, fat dose of ‘shock.’
This time she curled her present-seer around his head along with her fingers. And this time she read for a tag on this moment that would not matter to anyone looking in from the outside. The tag that would not be edited.
“God damn it, Rysa, stop kissing me!” Gavin pushed her off. “I don’t care why you’re doing it. I’m not—”
He was a pawn on a chess board full of tsars, dragons, and bishops. But sometimes, the pawn was the most valuable player.
“The auditorium.” Rysa pointed at the taller, rounder wall halfway around the building.
Daisy yanked Gavin away. “We wait!” She sniffed the air and did her best not to look jealous. “I smell Burners.”
Rysa tapped the tip of her finger on Gavin’s chin. “Dr. Bower, MD, PhD.” She smiled.
Daisy waved her phone again. “I smell Burners, Rysa. Walking Burners close enough the rain isn’t washing their stink away. Gavin cannot go in there.” She pointed at the building as she pulled Gavin behind her. “One comes near him, his allergy will kill him.”
Rysa looked around Daisy’s shoulder at her bestie of honor. “I’ll kiss you right next time. Heal you up good and clean.”
Daisy raised her arm.
“Stop!” Derek caught her punch. To Rysa: “You are not acting like the Rysa I know.”
She tipped her head and watched the kids burst from the school. No, she wasn’t. The black Fate makes no concessions. It would drive a dark blade into Vivicus’s heart and it was bound to the path it walked.
“When you had the midnight blades, did you feel different, Derek?” She stepped closer. Slowly, she stroked the stubble on his cheek. He knows the correct questions to ask.
Of course he knew. Derek Nicholson, a beautiful man with a caring soul, did not have the naiveté of the young.
“What would you do with a sword, Rysa?” Daisy yelled before Derek could respond. “Have you ever been in a real fight? Have you ever cut someone? Made a wound, not just healed one?”
Daisy’s phone flashed. “Let those who know what they are doing handle the mass murderer.” She looked down at the device. “Dad’s landed. They’ll be here in less than an hour. We wait.”
Let the professionals deal with ot
her professionals. Let others fight her fights. Let—
A call, faint but real, shimmered as if riding on a raindrop-dodging air current. Derek stiffened. His hand rose and his finger pointed toward the building. Behind them, Dragon pushed his long body out of the van tail first, his hide mimicking as he passed over the threshold, but not well enough to turn him invisible.
They needed to be careful with the beast. Someone might take a picture.
Another, clearer song of modulated waves and compacted colors flowed from the building. The connection between Derek and Dragon responded, bowing away from them and toward the pull.
“Beast, wait!” Derek curled his arms around Dragon’s neck. “We cannot be sure.”
Dragon pranced backward between the van and the sedan to shelter his body from the cars in the school’s driveway. His hide danced with sharp, pointed patterns and jarring, discordant colors and if he didn’t stay back, someone would see him.
“He thinks his human is here,” Gavin said. His entire body tensed as if he didn’t believe his own words.
Your beast is afraid. Rysa gasped but her air stopped in her throat the way it had when Vivicus pushed the slug with teeth and claws into her body. The slug he tried to use to copy Fate and Shifter abilities. And her connection to the dragons.
Ask the correct questions.
She needed to ask the correct questions, but she also needed to ask at the correct times.
“Stay here.” Rysa walked toward the school. I love you, she pushed to her Dragon as a cathedral of wonder and connectedness. She distilled all her times with Ladon into one pure, essential image: Ladon, happy, the blue sky behind him and his Dragon at his side, about to climb yet another mountain worth climbing.
She’d have her calm and gentle man back. She’d have her ease.
Her future-seer flickered in the burndust-generated fog, back from her kick into the what-was-is-will-be. It, too, had heard the call and it came home with the question she most needed to ask at this exact moment:
How will I kill Vivicus?