Playing With Fire

by C. J. Hill

  Kody, who was also on A-team, gave Tori a playful salute. He had short blond hair and a body builder’s physique: all hulking, broad shoulders and biceps as big as salad plates. He was too good natured and friendly to care that Tori—who had years’ less experience than he did—was in charge of the team. Besides, when he got it in his mind to do something, he generally disregarded the captains anyway, so being under her command probably didn’t seem like much of an imposition to him.

  Willow and Rosa motioned for Tori and Bess to come sit in the seats near them. Willow was tall, thin, and had the sort of natural grace that belonged to dancers and tree nymphs. Today her curly blonde hair was twisted into a bun, making her look like she ought to be at a rehearsal for Swan Lake. “I told you Bess wouldn’t crash the van,” Willow told Rosa. “They’re all in one piece.”

  Ryker dropped into a seat behind them. “We would have been here sooner if Bess had let me drive.”

  Bess sent him a patient smile. “You’re not allowed to drive the van again until you understand the difference between the beltway and a NASCAR racetrack.”

  “Oh, I understand the difference,” he said with mock offense. “One has more traffic to get around.”

  Rosa shook her head at him. She was petite and pretty, with china-doll features and dark brown hair that hung loose down her back. She was also the gentlest of the group and had the habit of worrying about the rest of them. “You know,” she said directing her gaze to Ryker, “you won’t be much use to us in a body cast.”

  Willow nodded in agreement. “And if you do something stupid that puts you in one, I’ll sign your cast, ‘I told you so.’”

  She was Ryker’s cousin and had no problem ribbing him. Which, Tori decided, partially made up for the way the rest of the girls acted all deferential and flirty around him. He’d been with the group for only a few weeks, so he still had hot new guy status, whereas the other guys were just boring, everyday hot.

  Dr. B stepped from the flight deck into the seating area, carrying a plastic shopping bag. At practices, he usually wore Dockers and a button-down shirt, the sort of outfit you’d expect a professor of medieval history to wear. With his wavy gray hair and wire-rim glasses, he’d always looked the part of a dignified intellectual.

  Today, he was dressed in a belted tunic, leggings, and pair of knee-high leather boots. Tori blinked and stared.

  “I know,” Bess said in a whisper. “I told him not to wear that, but he thinks it’ll help him blend in with the Renaissance crowd.”

  Dr. B noted Tori’s presence and smiled. “Good to see you. Looks like we’re ready to go.”

  Jesse was still up near the front of the plane. Dr. B handed the plastic bag to him. “Give this to Tori so she can change, won’t you?” Then he motioned to the group. “Seatbelts on, everyone.” Without waiting, he returned to the cockpit to fly the plane.

  Jesse walked down the aisle, sat beside Tori, and reluctantly handed her the plastic bag. His reluctance should have been her first clue that something was wrong.

  “Just so you know,” Bess said, “I told him you’d hate it.”

  Oh no. A sinking feeling went through Tori’s stomach. She reached into the bag and pulled out a dress with a long brown skirt and maroon corset. The shirt had poofy, flowing white sleeves—some sort of Renaissance servant’s dress. “I’m supposed to wear this?”

  “Yeah,” Willow said in an apologetic tone. “You get to be a saucy barmaid.”

  The label on the costume did indeed read, “Saucy barmaid.”

  Tori gazed around at the rest of the Slayers in their jeans. “Come on, this is a joke, right?”

  The plane began taxiing down the runway. Jesse put on his seatbelt. “Dr. B wants one of us in costume in case we need to access any staff-only areas.”

  Rosa shrugged sympathetically. “I’d trade, but you wouldn’t fit into my clothes.” Rosa was a half a foot shorter than Tori.

  “Sorry,” Bess said. “I refuse to put on anything that makes me look like I’m wearing a matching outfit with my dad.”

  Willow lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “I don’t have the figure to pull off a saucy barmaid. The costume would look stupid on me.”

  Tori sat back in her seat with a huff. “It’ll look stupid no matter who’s wearing it.”

  Lilly finally pulled herself away from her conversation with Shang. “If you don’t like it, don’t show up for the next mission in a cocktail dress and heels.”

  “This isn’t a cocktail dress,” Tori said. “It’s from Dior’s casual line. If you want to insult someone, you should at least be accurate.”

  Bess gestured to the overhead compartment. “And to complete your outfit, your boots are in there with the rest of the gear.” She meant her fighting boots: black, steel-toed, fireproof boots. Not exactly period wear, but the dress was long enough to mostly hide them.

  Shang, who shared counterpart abilities with Lilly—but not her impatience toward Tori—said, “Lots of people dress up at these things. No one will think twice about your barmaid outfit.”

  “Unless they’re really thirsty,” Bess added. “Then they’ll order you to go to ye olde tavern and fetch them a frothy brew.”

  Tori leaned her head back against her seat. This was going to be a long day.

  Chapter 5

  At three o’clock, the group walked through the gabled gates of Fairhaven and into the expansive grounds. Tori strode along with the others, pretending not to hate her outfit. The two and three-story buildings, complete with high-pitched roofs and wood trim, seemed as though they’d been plucked from a fairy tale. Nearby, a flute player trilled out a tune while jesters juggled pins for a crowd. People in jeans mixed among those dressed in ball gowns, all of them slowly flowing down the wide dirt streets.

  The simulator was back in the parking lot, so the Slayers could use their powers. Helpful, but also distracting. The noise from the musicians and the shuffling crowd felt louder, the scent of the different foods was more pungent. Turkey, roasted nuts, coffee, bread, and beer mixed together with the sweat of tourists—all of it heightened.

  Dr. B gave everyone last-minute instructions before they split into their groups. “Remember, subtlety is the better part of stealth. Use as little force as necessary. We don’t want anyone to remember we’ve been here.”

  Under her breath, Bess whispered, “Then you shouldn’t have worn leggings.”

  Tori was glad to finally head off with Jesse and Bess to search their area. If Tori had to hear Ryker call her, “Wench,” one more time, she was going to slap him with her barmaid satchel. It held enough stacks of hundred dollar bills to make a decent weapon.

  Along with her dress, Tori wore a curly black wig and a serving cap. Bess had on a pair of hipster glasses and a blond wig she kept swishing over her shoulder. Jesse wore a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead, glasses, and a bulky jacket. Not much of a disguise. He was still handsome enough to draw attention from passing girls.

  The group strolled by a blue-and yellow-striped tent, where a king and queen held court and loudly discussed the burdens of royalty.

  Jesse side-stepped a man sweeping by on stilts. “Watch your purse,” he told Tori. “This would be a bad time to be pickpocketed.”

  He was right; she carried the price of one dragon scale plus ten thousand in bribe money. The other groups had been given the same amount, which made Tori wonder, not for the first time, where the mysterious Sam, who funded the Slayers, got his money.

  “Five thousand dollars per scale,” Jesse muttered. “If I’d known they sold for that much, I would have pried some off the last two dragons we killed.” He glanced at Bess. “Is your dad going to sell the ones he took?”

  Bess shook her head. “He’s experimenting on ways to break them. Although I have to say, I think he’s developed an unhealthy attachment to them. He’s always getting them out and staring at them. Soon he’s going to give them names like Shnookums and Precious.

  Tori
hadn’t remembered Dr. B taking scales from either of the dragons they’d killed, but she’d been in a state of sickened shock at the time and hadn’t paid attention to that sort of thing. She hadn’t wanted to look at the dragons, to see their broken forms and know she’d been responsible for their deaths.

  That was the problem with being half Slayer and half dragon lord. Her genetics had programmed her to kill dragons, but unfortunately also made her feel guilty about it afterward.

  Tori wound past a family heading the opposite direction. “I wonder if the Chinese are right about dragons having medicinal uses. What if we were to kill them all and then found out their scales could cure cancer?”

  Bess and Jesse exchanged a look, one that indicated that they thought Tori was being naive about medicinal uses. Jesse said, “I’m willing to take that chance.”

  “Ditto,” Bess said.

  They made their way around a stage where belly dancers clanged their finger cymbals and swayed to an exotic, soulful tune.

  “Overdrake is the real problem,” Tori insisted. “If we take care of him, the dragons would—”

  “Still be huge, flying carnivores who want to eat us,” Bess finished. She turned to Jesse, peering over the rim of her glasses. “Is there any way to unplug Dirk from her mind? I think he’s brainwashing her.”

  “I wish there was,” Jesse said. He didn’t like that Dirk could talk to Tori any time he wanted. “And speaking of dragon lords, have you talked to your parents about moving, Tori?”

  The fact that Overdrake knew where Tori lived worried all of the Slayers, especially Jesse, and most of all, Tori. But the problem wasn’t an easy one to fix.

  “I tried. I made up stories about seeing suspicious men scoping out the house, and I told my parents that I thought political whackos were going to break in.”

  “Didn’t that concern them?”

  “Oh, they’re concerned—about me. They think I’m getting paranoid. They checked the footage of our security cameras and didn’t see anything worth worrying about.”

  Although, Aprilynne had suggested that a family of boogey men might have moved in down the street and were waiting for the opportunity to relocate under Tori’s bed.

  Tori adjusted a strand from her wig that kept knocking into her face. “I’m just going to have to depend on our security system, the bodyguards, and our German shepherd to keep me safe.”

  Jesse frowned. “It’s not enough.”

  “I don’t know. Brindy’s a pretty smart dog.” Not remotely true. Brindy was hopelessly trusting and would allow burglars entrance to the house or lead them to the valuables as long as they gave her dog treats in the process.

  Jesse’s gaze went to Tori’s and stayed there. He was probably trying to look stern, but somehow managed to look like a brooding cologne model instead. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

  Tori pulled her attention away from him and surveyed the surrounding shops. “Dirk said his father promised not to hurt me.” He had assured her of this fact more than once during their talks.

  Jesse grunted. “Yeah, and we know how much Dirk’s word means. Overdrake has already sent two dragons to kill us. I don’t think he cares what he promised Dirk.”

  Jesse had a point, but what could she do about it? She had no way to convince her parents to move.

  The group spent the next hour trudging into buildings, perusing the wares, and asking if Rudolpho was around. Since Tori carried the money, it fell to her to play the part of the interested buyer.

  “You’ve got to be the one,” Bess had said at the first shop. “Jesse and I would have a hard time faking being rich, but you don’t have to pretend.”

  They’d gone into five stores, and in each one Tori had acted like she knew that Rudolpho would be inside, that she had connections who had directed her to that place to meet him. And in each shop, the proprietors looked at her as if she was confused and perhaps not all that bright.

  Jesse and Bess would have a hard time faking they were rich. Right. They were just smart enough to avoid the role of confused/half-crazy buyer. Well, that would teach Tori to skip out on practices where they planned these sorts of things.

  They wandered into The Black Unicorn Shoppe, and Tori pretended to eye the silver tiaras while she scanned the store. Several tourists milled among the goods. A woman dressed in a blue corset stood behind the counter, ringing up purchases. A man in a tunic and leggings helped a middle-aged woman with a dragonfly necklace. No watchful security men seemed to be guarding anything of value.

  Bess, Jesse, and Tori meandered across the room, admiring shelves filled with pewter knights and unicorn figurines. So many dragon prints hung on the wall, they looked like they were part of a parade. The artists had gotten the color completely wrong. Dragons weren’t brown or grayish, lizard-like colors. They didn’t have to blend into their surroundings. They were flashy, proudly wearing the colors of danger. The dragons she’d seen were red and bright blue.

  The shopkeeper finished helping his customer and strolled over. “Sir, my ladies, may I be of service?”

  Tori gave him a bashful smile. “I hope so. I’m looking for something special.”

  He swept his hand toward the shelves. “We’ve many a special trinket here. What, pray tell, has caught your fancy?”

  “Actually, I want to speak to Rudolpho.”

  The man paused, hesitated, and took in Tori again. He seemed to note how young she was. “Do you?” he asked, still measuring her.

  “I hear he sells some, um, authentic souvenirs.” She sashayed closer. “Dragon scales. Don’t worry. I have cash.” While she reached into the cloth purse, she hit the button at the side of her watch that contacted Dr. B and let him hear her conversation. She pulled out a stack of hundreds and flashed them at the man. “Can you take me to Rudolpho, please?”

  Dr. B’s voice immediately came through the earpiece hidden in Tori’s ear. “You’ve found him?”

  Tori smiled at the shopkeeper again. “Seeing Rudolpho is really why I came to the fair.” That should answer Dr. B’s question.

  The man nodded at the sight of her bills. “He usually requires an appointment, but if you give me your name, I can ask if he’s available.”

  Tori slipped the money back into her purse. “Tell him Emily Morgan would like to see him.” Tori had chosen the name because everyone knew a few Emilys. Emilys were hard to keep track of.

  The man gave them a slight bow, said, “Wait here,” and went through a door behind to the counter.

  Jesse turned so the woman at the counter couldn’t see his face. “We’re at The Black Unicorn,” he whispered into his mic.

  In Tori’s earpiece, Dr. B reported the news to the other teams. They’d convene here soon. “Theo,” he said. “You’ve got the horse?”

  “And the armor,” Theo answered. “I’m heading to the shop now.”

  Horse? Armor? What were they planning to do if Rudolpho didn’t cooperate? She really should have insisted they give her those sorts of details.

  Then again, maybe Jesse was right. If things went wrong, she could honestly tell her parents she didn’t know what had been on the day’s agenda. She would just hope that none of their watches were confiscated. The police might notice the tranquilizing darts.

  Dr. B’s voice came over her earpiece. “Be sure to examine the scale to make sure it’s genuine before you offer money. Authentic scales have an interlocking micro pattern.”

  Tori had never looked at a scale up close, but she’d seen enough of the real kind that she should be able to identify one.

  Her phone buzzed in her purse. She pulled it out, checked the screen, and let out a disheartened sigh. “Bad news.”

  Jesse’s gaze swung to her. “What?”

  “My parents know I’m AWOL. They want to know where I am and when I’ll be home.”

  “Oh,” he said, relieved, and went back to scoping out the store. “Tell them we’re at a movie, it’s about to start, and you have to turn off
your phone now.”

  Tori typed in the sentence, sent it, and slipped her phone into her purse. “I hope this mission doesn’t take all day. I’m still on probation for disappearing last time.”

  The shopkeeper came back and made a summoning motion to Tori while holding open the back door. “This way, please.”

  When Bess and Jesse followed after her, the shopkeeper raised a hand to stop them. “Only one buyer at a time in the room.”

  “But we’re with her,” Bess protested.

  “Then I’m surprised you don’t already know the rules,” he said. “One buyer.”

  Tori faltered, but couldn’t think of a way around the rule. “Fine.” She flicked her hand in Jesse’s direction. “Can you get me a soda while you wait? This dress is hot.” She was really giving him an excuse to leave the shop and scout around the building until the other Slayers arrived. Bess would stay inside in case Tori needed backup.

  He nodded. “I’ll see what’s around.”

  Tori trailed after the man, hoping Rudolpho could be easily bribed. That would make the meeting so much simpler.

  The man led her down a short hallway, and then took her up a flight of stairs. “I hope I don’t trip,” she said to let the other Slayers know where she was going. “It’s so hard to navigate stairs in a long dress.”

  A narrow hallway waited at the top of the stairs. He led her down it, bypassing two doors and coming to a stop at the third. “First things first,” the shopkeeper said, still maintaining the British accent. “I need to make sure you’re not, as you Yanks say, packing heat.” He picked up a metal detector wand that hung by the door and ran it over her.

  She held her hands up, showing they were empty. “Security already checked our bags when we came into the fair. For a place that sells swords in every other shop, you people worry a lot about weapons.”

  Satisfied she didn’t have a gun on her, the man hung the detector up and opened the door. “This way.”