City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood

by Wilder, Adrienne

  “Hey, yourself.” God of Man, he loved her smile.

  Mary put the car in drive, headed out of the parking lot, and joined the rest of the motor-driven herd easing up and down the sleepy streets.

  Athens likes to present itself as a typical small town, a regular Civil-War- meets- Starbucks kind of place. But unlike a lot of small Georgia cities, it doesn’t roll up the sidewalks come nightfall. On the contrary, when the sun dips below the horizon, the clubs get full and the parties churn out drunken frat boys like a Pez dispenser.

  And because most of the roads are nothing more than black-topped horse trails, traffic can be as debilitating as any big city street. Mary took a left off of Washington and headed down the neighborhood-laden side roads where street lamps made puddles of light in the yards of old twenties-style shotgun houses.

  Orin said, “So how have you been?”

  “Good, real good.” Orin knew Mary really meant she was dealing. But it was all any of them could do. The only other option was death; and while dying was a permanent solution, it simply wasn’t acceptable for either of them. “What about you?” Mary tossed him a quick look in the dark. Orin knew from personal experience her eyesight was better than Human.

  Not wanting to lie, he said, “I’ve had better days.”

  “Are you still having a good ole boy problem?”

  Orin laughed. He’d almost forgotten. Last time they’d met up, a couple of local rabble rousers decided to follow him home and do a little shit kicking. They were young and drunk, and it didn’t take much to scare them off. A flash of fang and a good old-fashioned growl. Only problem was they took off on foot and ran right out in front of one of the city buses.

  All three of them survived, but they’d walk with a limp. It had taken two hours of explaining and Ray coming down to the station to vouch for Orin before the cops even entertained his side of the story.

  Orin said, “I still don’t think your brother believes me.”

  Mary shrugged. “Just ignore him. Ever since Brian got his promotion, he’s had serious ego issues.”

  Yeah, that and the fact he was a card-carrying Earth for Humans member didn’t help. No, Brian Gilsp, like his dad, did not like wyrms, which was exactly why Mary refused to let any of her family know about her going through the Shift. Being a cop meant Brian had been genotyped and met the hundred percent Human DNA requirement for hiring, which only left one possibility: Their fathers were different. It was the kind of news which would rip a cosmic-sized hole in even a thirty-plus-year marriage.

  On occasion Orin still tried to convince Mary to talk to her mother about it. But Mary was steadfast in her belief. Confronting her mother wouldn’t accomplish a single thing.

  “Brian wants me to go back to school,” Mary said as she took a left into the parking lot to her building and found a spot.

  “Maybe he’s right. Maybe you should.” It would be good for her. Right now all she did was work sixty hours a week and volunteer the rest of her time away to whatever local charity needed an extra pair of hands.

  “Yeah, I kind of figured you’d agree with him.” She laughed, cut the engine, and stayed in the car. They sat for a while just staring at the cedar-sided building.

  Her apartment was one of those late sixties-style double-decker condo types. The builders had stuck the thing right in the middle of a cow pasture, probably in expectation of a rush of growth. For whatever reason, it never happened on this side of town.

  Mary looked at him. “You ready?” And somehow she made it sound like they were about to take a leap off a cliff.

  And that was one cliff Orin was so ready to take a header off of. He hated himself for feeling anticipation instead of humiliation. He couldn’t help it. He wanted this. He needed it.

  So when Mary opened the door he followed.

  Chapter 8

  Haley finally got Deshi into the bed. She slept sandwiched between him and Farley. It was her usual position, her face in Farley’s neck, Deshi at her back. At least until beautiful Deshi woke her up thrashing and making small pitiful noises. To keep him calm she had to roll over and hold him.

  When morning came, Haley left both Males in bed while she got ready for work. Maybe if she gave them some time alone, they could talk. They were still sound asleep when she came out of the bathroom after drying her hair. But Deshi had closed the gap in the mattress and curled himself around Farley. It did her hearts good to see him, comfortable, at peace. Home.

  But he wasn’t really home, because Deshi wanted Emily.

  Haley pulled the sheet up and over them, then hurried out so she wouldn’t be late.

  By eight-thirty she was walking up the Center steps and into her office five minutes later. When she crossed the threshold, she almost turned around and walked out, because Claire sat on the little sofa in front of her desk.

  This was so not how she needed to start her morning.

  “Morning, Claire.” Just please don’t start screaming at me, slapping me, or trying to claw my eyes out. “Something I can help you with?” As in help you out the door? Haley remembered to keep her smile up and her fangs out of sight.

  Claire gave her a small wave and stood up. “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to catch you before you went anywhere or…you know, whatever it is you do.” Her eyes stayed glued to the floor, then Claire sighed in a way only Claire could. “I just wanted to officially apologize.”

  Haley expected a lot of things from Claire, but an apology wasn’t one of them. No, just more accusations, screaming, and lack of Kin understanding.

  “Thanks, Claire, that means a lot.” And it did. As awkward as it was.

  But Claire didn’t leave. She just stood there wringing her tiny hands and chewing her lip.

  “Is there something else?” Because obviously there was.

  “Yes, I read…” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “I read since Farley is your Marked, Kin custom dictates I ask your permission to take him out on dates.” The last part came out so fast Haley had to stand there for a minute while her brain caught up with her ears. “So, I’m asking you for permission.” Claire let out her breath, then abruptly hiccoughed.

  This had to be a trick , but what on earth it was, Haley didn’t have a clue. “Wow, Claire, I never took you for someone who had an interest in Kin customs and social expectations. Was that from Wallace’s book or Grohen? You know Grohen actually tried living among Kin until…”

  “Okay!” Claire hiccoughed again. “I deserve that. I do. I’m sorry. I was a bitch. I was really unfair. I can’t help it if every taboo in my culture is common behavior in yours. I’m sorry. And I’m trying to make things right. Just let me make things right.” She paused a moment, then tacked on a “please”.

  Haley blinked at this strange new Human female standing in front of her. “Claire, I really don’t care if you date Farley.”

  “So you don’t mind if I take him out?”

  It was Haley’s turn to fidget. “You’ll have to ask, Farley.”

  “But it says in the books...”

  “I know what the book says. I just, well…I’m just not comfortable with the way things are supposed to be. So if Farley wants to go out with you, you go right ahead.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Yes.”

  When Claire smiled, it reached her eyes. Farley was right, she was very pretty.

  Claire said, “Thank you. I’ll ask him. But thank you.”

  Haley didn’t tell her goodbye when she left. She was just glad to have the woman out of her office. Claire might have been all smiles and thank-yous today, but there was no telling how long it would last.

  After Haley checked her email, she left a voicemail for Farley telling him she’d left fifty bucks on the counter to take Deshi to get something to eat and to try and get the Male to talk. If Emily was pregnant, Deshi would go back to her if he thought she would keep the baby. Haley was pretty sure Emily would keep it long enough to use it against him, then she’d be at
the first clinic she could find to have it taken care of.

  Haley picked out the quarters from her change jar and headed to the break room. Along the way, she thought about all the horrible things Emily had done to Deshi and what she could do about it. They needed options. Although there didn’t seem to be very many.

  But then again, there was always Deshi’s Mother.

  Haley shuddered. She’d only go there as a last resort.

  The big fat out-of-order sign on the snack machine might as well have been in neon lights. Well, not eating wasn’t an option. Maybe the PD’s snack machine was working. The selection was always better over there anyhow. Their vendor was a firm believer in Slim-Jims and teriyaki beef jerky.

  Haley’s mouth watered just thinking about it.

  The Atlanta PD didn’t have a “break” room, at least not one with a wobbly legged table and a set of four chairs which had escaped from the sixties. Nope, they had a Common room. There were three different snack machines, including a microwave meal dispenser, two four-pot automatic coffeemakers, a fridge, two long tables able to seat ten, and a flat screen TV so big that sitting in front of it counted as time in the tanning bed.

  The snack machine was all out of anything meat, so Haley fed quarters into the microwave dinner dispenser. She had enough for two lasagna trays and a Ramen noodle cup. She put the two trays in for a quick nuke while she used the honest-to-god sink next to the coffee machine to put water in her noodles.

  A couple of people wandered in and out while she was busy with her concoction. As usual, the women threw her some odd glances over her menu choices. Haley gave up a long time ago trying to explain she’d designed herself to look like this.

  Curves just didn’t get the appreciation they deserved anymore.

  “You know all those saturated fat and carbohydrates are not good for you.”

  Haley glanced up. She didn’t know the red head, but she was one of those ultra-tall thin types who could turn sideways and disappear. Her eyes were on the pile of food Haley was mixing into a single TV dinner dish.

  The redhead said, “That kind of food will go to your hips. You should try this diet group I’m in.”

  Diet? Was she serious?

  Haley picked up the tray and mixed the two lasagna dishes together while the woman chattered on about fats versus carbs and complex sugars. When the woman paused long enough to take a breath, Haley shoveled in a heaping mouthful. By the look on Little Miss Redhead’s face, Haley might as well have swallowed a goldfish.

  Live.

  Now that Redhead was stunned into silence, Haley gave the lady her back and waited for her Ramen noodles to finish counting down.

  The microwave beeped, and Haley put down the tray and worked her cup of soup out without burning the skin off the end of her fingers. Three minutes was a minute too long. The poor Styrofoam sagged.

  Behind her, cop voices blew through the room as people came in and left. The conversations between them contained mostly hellos, how are the kids, the wife is good, did you hear about that guy they brought in, oh and do you have that paper work I need?

  “I’m good. They aren’t going to do anything. I mean, hell, the two of ‘em were practically fucking each other. I just went in to tell them to break it up. Not my fault the bigger one came after me.”

  Haley’s head turned towards the voice before she could stop herself. Officer Donald sauntered through the doorway chatting it up with his two buddies. The one Haley recognized, Manuel. The other one was a blank. Manuel apparently recognized her, too, because his eyes went two sizes too big for his face and his dark skin paled a few shades closer to Anglo-Saxon white.

  Haley tracked Donald with her eyes as he moved across the room. Everything in her sight took on sharp crystalline edges. She heard a rumble and realized she was growling. So did the cop standing at the coffeemaker. He slopped his cup trying to scramble back and out of the way.

  All the movement in the room ground to a halt. Donald stopped talking and his head turned. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the wyrm. You goin’ down into the Tanks to play with any more fuck buddies?” He was the only one who laughed.

  “Hey, man, let’s just go.” Manuel put a hand on Donald’s shoulder, but Donald shook him off and headed across the room.

  Donald eased into Haley’s space, towering over her. “So tell me, Ms. Night, are you always so easy? Maybe you and I should have a little personal time after work. You can show me that mouth of yours all the boys here have been telling me about.” Using the counter as a prop, Donald put a hand on either side of her and leaned in. “You know what my favorite part was?” He was close enough now Haley could feel his breath on her cheek and taste his Human flavor of buttered chicken and chocolate. “My favorite part was when that little fucker’s head popped open like a watermelon.” Donald grinned.

  Haley stopped breathing.

  The other people in the room seemed to sense something bad was about to happen. Manuel grabbed the arm of the cop closest to him and scrambled toward the door. The tall skinny redhead abandoned her salad and followed. So did anyone else with any sense of self-preservation. The mass exodus clogged the doorway for a whole fifteen seconds.

  If Donald felt it, he didn’t acknowledge it, or maybe he just wanted another chance to knock someone around with that baton he was so fond of.

  “So tell me, how many men do you fuck in a night, or do you do the women in this place, too?” Donald lifted a hand, brushed a thumb across Haley’s cheek, and chased the motion with his tongue, leaving a big sloppy trail of spit. “Isn’t that how you people do it? Or was that wrong? Maybe you should practice a while on my dick. I’m sure with a little show and tell I could get it right.” Donald laughed. “Speechless? Look here, the whore is at a loss for words. Tell me, Haley Night, what do I smell like now?”

  Haley took a breath. When her eyes flipped up, Donald jerked back. A growl licked the back of Haley’s throat, and her teeth punched down with enough force to put blood on her palate. Haley curled her lips to let Officer Donald get a real good look at her choppers. It wasn’t like her to react like this. She knew it was wrong, but at the moment she just didn’t give a shit.

  Donald went for his baton, but Haley was faster. She caught his hand and held him. His wrist made a loud popping sound, and he tried to yank out of her grasp. Someone screamed, distracting her. Haley’s head whipped to the side and Donald grabbed a handful of her hair.

  Haley was yanked to the side, and her head went crashing into the coffeemaker.

  Stronger and faster didn’t mean she was immune to the laws of physics. And when someone can pick you up and throw you, they can just pick you up and throw you.

  Glass and boiling joe smacked Haley in the face, blinding her. She let go of Donald’s wrist to knock the debris out of her eyes, and that’s when he hit her. One sharp blow across the side of the head, then another, but Haley was stronger than the Male he’d taken down in the Tank. When the cop raised the baton a third time, she rolled out of the way. Blind, she listened for him to move. As soon as Donald turned, she kicked, catching him in the upper leg with her three-inch heel. Haley felt his hand close on her ankle, then something that could only be Donald’s elbow slammed down on her knee, breaking it. Human forms were just too fragile, but unlike Donald, Haley healed.

  Haley still couldn’t see and the sound of people panicking in the hall made it impossible for her to track Donald. She found him when a hand closed around her throat, jerked her up from the floor and slammed her head into the counter, putting her head through the cabinet doors. Pieces of wood stabbed Haley in the back of the neck and side of the throat.

  Heat cranked out of Haley’s body as she pushed herself to heal. She blinked and her sight came back online. Now the problem was breathing because Donald was doing his best to crush her airway.

  When the cop saw the wounds closing, he actually looked scared.

  Haley grinned at him, showing off her fangs. He faltered. It was only a se
cond but long enough for her to take out his knee and punch him in the throat. Donald fell back, gasping for air. Haley followed, tracking his panicked movements, stalking him like prey.

  Kill him.

  Eat him.

  The urge was undeniable.

  Something which felt like scales slid beneath Haley’s skin and along the inside of her skull.

  When Donald rolled over onto his knees to make a run for it, Haley landed on his back and yanked his head back. A strangled, scared noise gurgled from his partially crushed windpipe. She leaned in and breathed across his neck, jacked open her jaw, extended her teeth.

  No matter how pissed she was, killing him was wrong. And yet she couldn’t deny the frightening urge to do just that.

  Haley put her lips to the cop’s ear. “You want to know what you smell like to me, Donald? Food. You smell like food.”

  She licked the side of his neck, and Donald screamed. In his panic Donald managed to throw Haley off, and in his mad rush to get away, he skidded across the floor on broken glass and spilled coffee. Donald fell, slicing and dicing his hands and knees.

  “You bitch!” His attempt to yell came out a harsh whisper.

  Haley pulled herself up and leaned against the counter. Her head hurt but at least she was standing.

  Donald managed to get to his feet, and that’s when he pulled his gun.

  Haley froze and stared at the cop while he held onto the side of his neck like his head was about to fall off. Hand to hand was one thing, but a bullet to the head was a bullet to the head.

  “Put down your gun, Donald.” Bauer appeared in the doorway. When Donald didn’t obey, Bauer stepped into the room and stood in front of him. “That was not a request, and you don’t have an option B.”

  Donald sputtered but lowered his weapon. A second later, two uniforms came in behind to secure the scene. They took Donald’s gun and escorted him out. Haley looked at Bauer. He looked three steps beyond pissed.

  After he caught his breath, he said, “You better come with me.”