Playing With Fire

by C. J. Hill

  “When will you take Khan to the West?” Dirk asked. That move would signal that the attacks were about to start.

  His father’s gaze left the map and examined Dirk’s expression. Dirk tried to look only interested, not worried.

  After a moment of scrutiny, his father returned his attention to California. “You don’t need to know those details right now.”

  Message received: Dirk’s father still didn’t completely trust him. Ever since he’d freed his friends from the dragon enclosure last summer, his father had treated him like an employee—giving him as few details as possible, always questioning his loyalty.

  And his father didn’t even know that Dirk had warned the Slayers about the second dragon attack. If his father ever figured out that bit of deception, he’d never let Dirk go near the dragons again.

  No, that wasn’t true. Dirk’s father wanted his help, needed it so he could attack multiple fronts. Dirk was the only other person in the family who had the power to control dragons. Bridget, his half-sister, had no powers. Girls typically didn’t. Tori probably had them only because her Slayer genes somehow gave her access to her dragon lord abilities as well.

  But he wouldn’t be his father’s only son for long. His stepmother, Cassie, was pregnant with a boy. If Dirk didn’t prove his loyalty, then in another decade or so, he’d be replaced.

  “If you don’t need me for anything else,” Dirk said, standing, “I’ll go to bed.” After all, if his father wouldn’t share details, he couldn’t expect Dirk to stick around.

  His father looked as if he wanted to protest, but remained silent.

  Dirk went up the stairs, flying so his footsteps didn’t wake his sister or stepmother. He paused in front of Bridget’s room. She was only seven years old. Too young to realize any of what was going on.

  He continued down the hallway, wishing he had someone to talk to. No one understood his divided loyalties or the frustration that came from having neither side trust him. Worst of all was the feeling that he’d lose no matter what. Someday he would have to fight the Slayers, his friends, and he was powerless to stop any of it from happening.

  When he got to his bedroom, he kicked off his shoes in the general direction of the closet. He didn’t turn on the light. No need; he could still see in the dark. His phone had died during the flight home, so he plugged it into the charger on the desk. His gaze fell on his computer. Tori had probably written him back.

  He told himself to ignore her and go to bed, but somehow found himself sitting at the desk and logging on. She was the person who came closest to understanding him. Maybe that was the real reason he couldn’t let her go.

  A new message from Tori sat at the top of his notifications. I do think about you saving us—and I’m grateful for it. Really grateful. I know you have good intentions, and you don’t want to hurt anybody. That’s why I don’t understand why you’re staying with your father. You can still come back and join the Slayers. Dr. B would find a place for you to live. I want you to come back.

  Her words melted him, made him want to fly straight to McLean and spend the rest of the night talking to her. But he couldn’t go back to the Slayers. Not now. He’d turned his friends into enemies, and although Tori was blind to that fact, he wasn’t. The Slayers would never forgive him for what he’d done or who he was, and they would certainly never trust him again. Seeing them would only be a painful reminder.

  He wrote back: You only feel the way you do because you went to a Slayer camp and trained to kill dragons. If I’d found you first and taught you about dragons, you wouldn’t be trying to destroy them. You’d be looking for ways to protect them. Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to learn about your dragon-lord half before you decide what you do with the rest of your life?

  She probably wouldn’t answer for a while. She had most likely gone to sleep after sending the message, but just in case, he would leave the screen open while getting ready for bed. As he pushed his chair away from the desk, he noticed his father standing behind him, hovering a few inches off the ground. He had silently flown into the room, and was now reading over Dirk’s shoulder.

  “You still talk to her?” His father managed to sound both amused and reproachful. “Passing along secrets?”

  “Of course not.” Dirk hid the spike of panic gripping him. Had anything in Tori’s messages revealed how he’d warned her about the second dragon attack? He skimmed the screen. No, her reply said only that she was grateful he’d saved them. She could have been talking about the time he’d let them out of the dragon enclosure and saved them from losing their powers.

  His father shouldered his way closer to the computer, and then scrolled through the rest of the messages, reading each one.

  Irritation flared through Dirk. “Do you mind? That’s a private conversation.” Tori’s texts showed only half of most conversations. Dirk had been speaking for many of them, not writing. Still, he nearly turned off the monitor on his father. He only stopped himself because doing so would make him look like he was hiding something.

  His father ignored his protest and kept reading. Dirk had already erased most of their earlier conversations, a precaution he was suddenly glad he’d taken. His father wouldn’t be happy to know how often he and Tori had talked over the last couple weeks.

  When his father finished reading, he straightened. “Why did you ask Tori to meet you tonight? What are you playing at?”

  “She’s a dragon lord,” Dirk said. “I want to convince her to join our side. Didn’t the messages make that clear?” He turned off the computer and stood up. “She knows what side I’m on. I wonder why you don’t.”

  His father relaxed his stance, pleased with Dirk’s reaction, pleased with this new evidence of his loyalty. “Well . . .” his father said, lengthening the word while he thought. “I admit that having another dragon lord around would be helpful. But Tori seems to think she can turn you into Slayer. How do I know she’s not right?”

  “Because I’m still here. If I wanted to switch sides and leave, I could have done it tonight.”

  “She asked how you justified your actions,” his father said, referring to one of their earlier conversations. “What did you tell her?” He’d figured out that when only Tori wrote, Dirk had been talking to her near a dragon.

  “I told her sometimes you need a revolution to improve a civilization.”

  “True enough.” Dirk’s father nodded. “But you shouldn’t bother with justifications. Alexander didn’t depend on votes to obtain his power. No one elected Genghis Khan. Men of action conquer. Plain and simple. You and I have dragon DNA. Nature gave us the ability to conquer, and that gives us the right to do it.”

  “Tori isn’t a fan of Genghis Khan or Alexander the Great. Go figure. She needs better reasons.”

  His father glanced at the computer as though he could still see Tori’s messages there. When he spoke again, his voice was neutral; the tone he used when concealing his thoughts. “Perhaps you’re right, and we’ll find a way to bring Tori to our side. I won’t forbid you from trying as long as you keep me informed.” A smile spread across his lips, one that was calculating. “Perhaps I’ll even think of a way to help you.”

  Dirk bristled. Maybe it was because of his father’s smile. It made his words seem sinister. “Don’t,” he said. “Let me handle her. I know how her mind works, and you—well, you’ve already tried to kill her twice.”

  His father held his hands up, conceding the point. “And I’m beginning to see the folly of that strategy. You’re right—if we’d found a way to engage her dragon lord side instead of triggering her Slayer instincts, things might be very different now.” He let his hands drop, then tapped one against the side of his leg, still thinking, doing more of whatever calculations were running through his mind. “Perhaps it’s not too late.” Another smile. “Have you thought about the fact that if the two of you married, your children would all be dragon lords, even your daughters?”

  Dirk stared at him in
surprise, unsure how to answer. Was he serious? Plotting something? If so, what? It seemed weird that in one conversation, his father had gone from hating Tori to discussing the benefits of marrying her. Dirk had always figured that if he did persuade Tori to switch sides, his father would need just as much persuasion to trust her.

  “Stop looking so suspicious,” his father said with a laugh. “I’m allowed to change my mind once in a while.” He held up a hand, making a pledge. “I promise I won’t try to kill Tori again. Unless, of course, it’s really warranted.”

  “Thanks,” Dirk said, still guarded. Perhaps his father was just changing tactics. Perhaps he wanted Dirk to set up a meeting with Tori so he could capture her. Is that why he wanted to be kept informed?

  His father must have seen the doubt. He let out a sigh and went toward the door. “It’s been a long night, and we both need sleep. Just promise to do your part in the revolution, and I won’t care who you choose for a girlfriend. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Dirk said. But despite his father’s words, he was more worried about Tori’s safety than he had been before.

  Chapter 3

  Ever since Tori had learned she had superpowers, she’d been making a mental list of their drawbacks. Foremost on the list today was that people didn’t respect her private time.

  At least Dr. B never had. It didn’t matter that she specifically told him she was going to see Wicked today—or that she and her sister had purchased the tickets seven months ago. He decided to call a Slayer meeting at the same time anyway.

  While Tori sat in the red velvet seats of the Kennedy Center waiting for the musical to start, her watch phone beeped. And beeped again. Should she keep ignoring the sound or give in and answer?

  Aprilynne, her older sister, glanced at the watch and rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you wore that thing here.”

  No one with any style or taste would believe Tori wore it anywhere. It was a high-tech Slayer phone disguised as a watch, and a sadly dismal fashion choice all wrapped up into one piece of clunky black plastic wrist-wear; completely tacky.

  The beep was Jesse’s chime. He was probably calling her to ream her out about skipping practice. Again. In her defense, it was harder for her to get away than it was for the rest of the Slayers. Tori had a busier schedule, and she frequently had bodyguards tailing her. One sat in the row behind her now.

  Aprilynne cast Tori another reproving glance before flipping open her program. “You better turn off whatever alarms you have on that watch. You don’t want it going off during the performance.”

  Tori pushed a button on the side twice, a signal that she’d call Jesse in a few minutes when she got to a private location. The show was a Saturday matinee and didn’t start until one. She had twenty minutes to make her apologies to him and return to her seat. Plenty of time.

  Tori forced a surprised gasp for Aprilynne’s sake. “I set the alarm to remind myself to call Jesse and cancel a date. I can’t believe I forgot. I’d better call him before he leaves to pick me up.”

  “Jesse?” Aprilynne repeated. She’d met him once, and if she didn’t exactly approve of their clandestine relationship, she at least understood Jesse’s draw. Tall, dark, handsome, and all that.

  “I’ll be right back.” Tori slung her purse over her shoulder, got to her feet, and waved to Lars, the bodyguard who doubled as their driver. He was a burly, humorless guy who hardly spoke to Tori, frequently scowled at her friends, and exuded an air of general hostility. “I’m just going to the lady’s room,” she told him. “No need to come with me.” She scooted past the other chairs and hurried out of the theater before he could complain. She was supposed to stay with Aprilynne at all times so Lars could keep an eye on them both.

  The wide, red-carpeted hallways of the Kennedy Center were filled with patrons making their way to theaters. Tori wound through the crowd in the grand foyer and took the elevator upstairs. The upper theaters were smaller, so fewer people milled around the hallways. From there, she headed out to the balcony, a vast structure more proportioned for giants than the average arts patron looking for fresh air or a view of the Potomac. A cluster of people stood smoking by one of the fountains, but otherwise, the balcony was empty. Tori strolled to the railing thirty yards away and turned so they couldn’t see her having a conversation with her watch. She always felt ridiculous talking to her wrist, like she was part of a hokey spy movie.

  She pushed the button sequence to reach Jesse. “You called?”

  “Glad you picked up.” His deep familiar voice came over the speaker, a sound that always made her heart purr a little. “You were supposed to meet us fifteen minutes ago. Location Alpha.”

  The Air and Space Museum. Dr. B insisted on clandestine language, and ever since Dirk betrayed them, all the code names had changed.

  “Where are you?” Jesse asked.

  “At the Kennedy Center, just like I texted everyone. I couldn’t get away.”

  “You’ve missed every practice this week.”

  Meaning three. Which was way too many sessions for Dr. B to hold during the school year.

  “It’s been a busy week.”

  Jesse let out a disapproving grunt. “You’re the other captain. You can’t keep missing practice.”

  Granted, Tori was A-team’s captain, but Dr. B had only given her the job because she was a flyer. When he made the assignment, he hadn’t known she was part dragon lord. If he had, he probably would have done things differently.

  “People’s lives are depending on you,” Jesse went on. “What’s more important than defending your country?”

  Tori checked over her shoulder to make sure no one was near. “Right now, Wicked. With the Broadway cast.”

  “You’ll lose your edge if you don’t train.”

  Even though the people by the fountain hadn’t moved, Tori couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her. She moved toward the side of the building for more privacy. “I’m sure Dr. B will work me twice as hard next time to make up for it.”

  “Wrong,” Jesse said, and not on the phone. He’d landed by her side.

  Tori jumped in surprise and put her hand to her chest.

  “See?” he said with a smirk. “You’ve lost your edge. You didn’t hear me coming.” His brown hair was mussed by his flight, and his dark eyes looked triumphant. He wore a navy blue jacket that was a little beat-up but still looked good on his broad shoulders. Well, really anything looked good on Jesse. He was handsome in a serious, down-to-earth way, which was twice as attractive because he didn’t realize the sway of his looks.

  Tori turned off her watch’s phone function. “It’s not nice to sneak up on people.” In her defense, it was hard to hear a flyer approaching; they made no sound.

  “Yeah,” he said, drifting closer, “and Overdrake hasn’t been nice to us on more than one occasion.” Jesse’s eyes were still on hers. “That’s why you can’t skip training.”

  She took a step backward, which wasn’t usually what she did when Jesse was around. The two of them had secretly met in DC more than once, pretending to be normal teenagers who did things like date and hold hands in movie theaters. “Tell Dr. B I’ll make the next practice for sure. I can’t disappear from the Kennedy Center right before a performance.” She held her hands up in apology. “I’m a presidential candidate’s daughter. I’d have every security guard in the building searching for me.”

  Jesse smiled. Not one of the flirty smiles he gave while they were tucked away in some café having covert french fries. It was a smile of determination that said he knew he was going to win this argument. “Just tell your sister you’re leaving. Then no one will worry.”

  “I don’t want to leave.” Tori planted her hands on her hips. “And don’t you dare fly off with me.”

  He glided closer, still smiling. He’d been around a dragon simulator, so he had his powers. She didn’t, which meant she couldn’t do anything to stop him from hauling her into the sky.

  She t
ook another step backward. “I’ve been waiting seven months to see this show. A good boyfriend would be understanding.”

  He shrugged, not looking sorry. “We agreed that while we were at practice, we would put our relationship aside and act only as Slayers.”

  “I’m not at practice,” she said.

  “But I am.” He moved closer, then stopped and let his gaze drift over her, taking in her tight-fitting skirt and heels. “Okay, I need a thirty-second break from being a Slayer to tell you that you look amazing.”

  “Thanks.” She didn’t mean it.

  “And also, I’m sorry I have to do this.” He glanced at his watch. “Ten seconds left. That’s not nearly long enough to kiss you.”

  Oh, she wasn’t going to let him kiss her. She shuffled backward. “If you fly off with me, someone will see you. Probably a lot of someones. Several pedestrians, and whoever is looking up at this balcony, will question their sanity. Do you want that on your conscience?”

  Jesse was apparently unconcerned with the mental wellbeing of random people passing by. “I said I was sorry.” He flew over, grabbed Tori around the waist, and pulled her to him. “Dr. B ordered me to bring you back. I’m Team Magnus’s captain. I’ve got to set a good example, remember?” He shot into the sky, going fast and high.

  Tori put her hands against Jesse’s chest and let out a groan that was swallowed by the wind. “Next time you call, I’m answering you in the ladies restroom—and I don’t care who hears the conversation.”

  That was another problem with the watch phones. Not only did you look stupid talking on them, you sounded stupid talking in code words—or worse yet, forgetting to talk in code words and saying things like, “I haven’t seen any signs that the dragon lord is stalking me.”

  Jesse kept his eyes on the sky, twirling midair to adjust his direction. With his powers in full force, he was immune to the cold air rushing around them. Tori, however, shivered as she watched the Kennedy Center shrink in the distance.