by C. J. Hill
“So did you?” Jesse asked, alarmed.
“Not like I love horses and dogs. But I have to admit that dragons are sort of cool. They’re big and powerful and all mythological.”
Jesse lowered his voice. “That doesn’t make them cool, that makes them dangerous.”
“I still don’t want to own one, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Actually, that’s not what I’m worried about.”
Tori shifted her stance but didn’t say anything else.
“You still look guilty,” Jesse said. “What else happened?”
Was she so easy to read? She looked down at her feet. This was going to be even harder than she’d imagined—and she’d known it would be hard.
“I went into Khan’s mind. It was easy this time.” She glanced back up at Jesse’s face. “I was trying to get Dirk to tell me how to control dragons.”
Jesse’s expression was stern. He was bracing himself. “And?” he asked, as if he knew there was more to the story.
The look pierced her. How could she admit what she’d done? “Dirk kissed me, and I let him because I wanted information.”
Jesse stared at her, face going white. “You kissed him?”
“Only so he’d give me information.”
Jesse drew in a jagged breath. When he spoke, his words were clipped and hard. “And then Dirk showed you how to control a dragon?” It was clear Jesse didn’t believe it.
“Well, not exactly.”
“What a surprise.” Jesse didn’t try to hide the anger in his eyes or the hurt.
Guilt washed through her all over again. “I’m sorry.” She took hold of his arm, tentatively reaching for his hand. It was a gesture asking him to understand.
He pulled his arm away from her. “Are you really so naïve about Dirk or are you just making excuses for cheating?”
She might have deserved that, but it still stung. “It wasn’t like that. I was able to find Khan’s control center.”
“You controlled him?”
She wasn’t sure if the question was a challenge or whether his Slayer side was kicking in and he really wanted to know. “No, but I got a step closer.” She went on, glad for the chance to change the subject. “I learned that to control a dragon, I have to split my consciousness into thirds and send part of myself into the right area of the dragon’s mind. The problem is, I can’t focus so much on being in the dragon’s mind that I don’t pay attention to what’s happening to my actual body.”
“Dirk told you all that? How long were you kissing him?”
“I figured that part out while I was in the dragon’s mind.”
“Uh huh.” A muscle pulsed in Jesse’s jaw. “And what exactly was Dirk doing to your body while you weren’t paying attention to it?”
Jesse wouldn’t be reassured to hear how she’d been so inattentive that Dirk had been able to pick her up and dangle her off the side of a dragon in flight.
“Nothing bad,” she said.
Jesse rubbed a hand over his forehead to calm himself. “Okay. Tell me exactly what did happen so I don’t imagine the worst.”
“I kissed him because I thought he would kick me out of the dragon’s mind if I didn’t. It turned out that Dirk wanted me to go into Khan’s mind. He knew I would have a harder time killing a dragon I’ve connected to. It’s a dragon lord thing.” Tori held up a hand to stop the protest that was forming on Jesse’s lips. “I’m not saying I can’t kill him. It will just be harder. The next time we’re fighting, I might hesitate again.”
Jesse gritted his teeth. “So not only did you make out with Dirk, but your fighting ability has been compromised?”
He made it sound horrible. “Sort of. Although I might be able to break Overdrake’s control of a dragon. I’ll need someone to protect my body while I figure out how to do it.”
“And then you might figure it out?” Jesse asked. “Meanwhile we’ll have to take another Slayer out of the fight in order to protect you?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be a Slayer. Dr. B or Theo could do it. Or someone who’s actually strong enough to carry me out of the path of a dragon.”
The plan sounded weak and flawed. She wasn’t even sure what would have happened if she had managed to push Dirk out of his position in Khan’s mind. She suspected it would have broken his connection with the dragon, but Dirk hadn’t given her time to try.
Jesse put a hand to his brow. “So how many times did Dirk kiss you?”
Tori hadn’t been expecting the question. She’d been thinking of ways she could protect her body without taking another Slayer out of the fight. “I don’t know.”
He dropped his hand, frowning. “He kissed you so many times you lost track?”
She swallowed hard. “You’re the one who always says we’ve got to make sacrifices for the country’s sake. That’s what I did. That’s all it was.”
“Right.” He leaned toward her, arms crossed. “You weren’t thinking of the country when you went off to a secret meeting with the enemy, but when he wanted to make out, you’re suddenly a patriot.”
“When Dirk kissed me, I was thinking of your safety.” And she had been, at first. She felt her cheeks growing hot. “Last night I learned a lot of important things.”
“Yeah, and I just learned some important things too: Dragon lords can’t be trusted.” He picked up his backpack then strode down the hall to the classroom.
Dragon lords can’t be trusted. He meant her, not Dirk.
Was he breaking up with her?
Did he just need time to cool down?
She held her backpack to her chest, feeling shaky. This had turned out even worse than she’d expected, and she hadn’t even told him the part about Aaron. What would Jesse think of her when he found out she was helping Aaron find Overdrake?
Dragon lords can’t be trusted.
Jesse hadn’t even tried to see her point of view or understand why she’d gone with Dirk. And he acted as if everything she’d learned about controlling dragons didn’t matter. It did. It could make a huge difference. If she could figure out how to take control of a dragon away from Overdrake during a battle, she could save the Slayers’ lives. And civilians’ lives, too.
Wasn’t that worth a few kisses?
Chapter 37
By nine o’clock Saturday morning, Aaron was showered and dressed. It had taken him longer than usual because most of his stuff had already been packed, waiting for the truck that would come on Monday.
The boxes were one more reminder his life had been dismantled, changed without his permission.
His mom didn’t come right out and say that the move was his fault, that he’d screwed up their lives, but the accusation still came across in the brisk way she’d been ordering him around all week. And in the way she’d been throwing his stuff into boxes. She was worried Overdrake might find them as easily as the Slayers had, so now they had to disappear.
She’d even packed up the stuff his stepdad, Wesley, left behind and sent it to him. Just more evidence that he was gone for good. His mom had said that Wesley was only moving out for a trial separation, like the two of them were taking a divorce out for a test drive to see how it fit with their lifestyles.
As far as Aaron was concerned, they were both being selfish.
So his parents argued. So what? Everyone argued sometimes. If you found someone who said they agreed with you about everything, that person was a liar. Liars were the ones you needed to worry about, not the people who admitted they disagreed with you.
Adults were supposed to know how to work things out. They weren’t supposed to tear a family apart.
Aaron shoved his Renaissance costume in his backpack: a Robin Hood hat, a cape, and black boots. When he got to the festival, he’d put them on and ask Rudolpho for permission to hang around his shop and pretend to be an employee. Overdrake would expect him to be working somewhere.
Aaron folded the note he’d written to his mother and put it on t
op of one of the boxes in his room. She’d find it eventually, but not right away. Maybe not even today.
Earlier in the week, he’d told his mother his friend Sergio was having a birthday party today. He’d even created a fake invitation and showed it to her. Sergio lived a few streets over, so last night Aaron had snuck out and hidden his bike in some bushes near Sergio’s house. Today after his mom dropped him off at the “party,” he’d get his bike from the bushes and ride to the Renaissance Festival. It was only a few miles away, and he knew how to get there. When he’d first decided to sell the scales, he’d scouted out the place to figure out who would be the best buyer.
Now Aaron paused at his bedroom door, trying to memorize how his room looked, or at least, how it had looked before the boxes stood there as a monument to his mistakes.
If he hadn’t sold the scales, none of this would have happened.
Aaron had only wanted to make things better for his mom. He’d taken the money Rudolpho gave him, turned it into a cashier’s check, and sent it to the mortgage company. His mother’s account hadn’t been hard to find. The mortgage company kept sending letters about payments being overdue.
The money took care of the back payments, and as an added benefit, his mother believed that Wesley paid it. She’d been so happy.
And now this. They were moving, and his mom was back to thinking Wesley didn’t care about them.
Aaron turned from his room and walked down the hall into Jacob’s. Like his own room, boxes were stacked everywhere. His brother lay asleep on a mattress on the floor. The headboard and footboard had already been moved downstairs.
Aaron sat down, giving the mattress a jolt.
Jacob opened his eyes, then shut them. “What do you want?”
Too many things to mention. “I’m leaving. I came to say goodbye.”
Jacob’s eyes opened again. “Where are you going?”
Aaron couldn’t tell him the truth. Jacob would tell their mother for sure. “Birthday party. I’ll be gone for a while, though.”
Jacob looked at him in confusion, probably because Aaron had never woken him up to say goodbye before. “Whose?”
“Sergio’s.”
Jacob grumbled and turned over. “You’re just leaving so you can get out of packing.”
“Yep. Plus, I’ll get cake.”
Jacob picked up a pillow and hit him with it. “Shut up.”
Aaron batted the pillow away. “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone.” He said the words lightly, but they tore at him. “I know that will be hard for you.”
Jacob swung the pillow at him again.
Aaron blocked the hit, then grabbed the pillow from Jacob. “So far, you’re not staying out of trouble. You ought to know better than to hit someone stronger than you.” Aaron flung the pillow back at his brother to emphasize the point.
The pillow struck Jacob in the chest. With a laugh, he flipped it away and lunged at Aaron, pushing him off the mattress and onto the floor. “You’re stronger? Who says?”
Aaron wrapped his arms around his brother, struggling to pin his arms to his sides. “Says every wrestling match we’ve ever had.”
Jacob twisted, resisting the grip. “Not this one.” They knocked into a stack of boxes, causing the top ones to crash to the floor.
“Oh, definitely this one.” Aaron tightened his hold. He was hugging Jacob goodbye. He was leaving, and his brother didn’t know it.
Jacob twisted the other way, broke Aaron’s grasp, and got a hand free. Jacob had gotten stronger. When did that happen? Were his Slayer powers developing? He and Jacob slammed into another set of boxes. Those fell over too, only these ones hadn’t been taped shut. Things clinked and clattered as they spilled onto the floor.
The bedroom door opened, and their mother marched into the room, surveying the scene. “Stop it! What are you two doing?”
Aaron released Jacob and sat up, breathing hard from the struggle. He plastered a careless grin on his face. “I was just giving Jacob some brotherly advice.”
Jacob grabbed the pillow and threw it at Aaron’s head. It hit him with a thud.
Their mother gave Jacob a stern look. “I said, stop it.”
The box that had spilled contained a dozen of Jacob’s pocket knives. A larger collection than Aaron remembered. And it included some hunting knives and daggers. Why had their mother let him have those? Sheesh, he was turning into a little combatant.
She waved a hand at the fallen boxes. “Clean up this mess.”
Aaron got to his feet, wiping his hands on his pants. “Can’t. I’ve got a birthday party to go to. Jacob will have to do it.”
Their mother turned her stern look on Aaron. “Help your brother first. That’s more important.”
She meant the words as a reproach, but they didn’t feel that way. They felt like permission to leave.
A few minutes later, when he hugged her goodbye, he almost didn’t feel bad about going. Almost.
Chapter 38
Dirk found his father at the breakfast table, sipping coffee and scrolling through the news on his laptop. Cassie and Bridget had just left for the mall. Bridget hadn’t wanted to go and had stormed around the house, protesting, “It isn’t fair! How come you never make Dirk go shopping?”
Cassie did make Dirk shop occasionally, when she thought his jeans were too worn or his shirts needed updating, but luckily Bridget usually got the brunt of Cassie’s fashion shopping impulses.
Dirk poured himself a bowl of cereal. His father had already finished eating, which meant he was probably still at the table because he wanted to talk.
“So,” his father said without looking up from his laptop. “How’s Tori?”
“Happier now that she has her dog.” The thought of kissing Tori made him smile—especially the memory of how she’d kissed him right before she left. “By the way, I told her we’d let her father rule Florida if she joined us.”
“And what was her response to that?”
Dirk finished a bite of cereal. “She still has an overly optimistic view of the government, but I’m making progress. Once her father loses the election, she’ll see things differently.”
“You’re making progress?” his father asked. He sounded both amused and cynical. Well, that was fine. His father could be as amused as he wanted to be about Dirk’s relationship with Tori, so long as he left her alone.
“Yes, I am,” Dirk said.
For a few minutes, he ate in happy silence, but then his father spoke again, “Were you planning to tell me the rest?”
Dirk froze, spoon sagging in his hand. What did his father know? That he’d let Tori inside Khan’s mind? About Aaron? No, his father couldn’t know about him. Ever since his dad first caught him messaging Tori, Dirk started deleting her messages as soon as he read them.
What was his father referring to? Maybe it was something unimportant, something about school. Whatever it was, Dirk shouldn’t act like he was hiding things. He forced himself to continue eating as naturally as he could. “Tell you the rest of what?”
His father turned his laptop around so Dirk could see it. There on the screen were copies of Tori’s messages from last night.
Dirk’s heart stuttered. His father must have used some sort of spyware. He knew about Aaron.
A surge of anger flared inside Dirk. “You spied on my conversations with Tori? You don’t trust me at all—not even enough to respect my most basic privacy.”
His father hit the table, making the milk in Dirk’s bowl sway back and forth. “If you prove yourself untrustworthy, you don’t deserve privacy.” He turned the screen back around, making it clatter. “How could you find out about a younger brother—a dragon lord—and not tell me?”
It wouldn’t do any good to protest that Aaron was only twelve, or that he had a life of his own—rights even.
“I doubt the kid even exists,” Dirk said, keeping his voice even. “I mean, come on—the Slayers claim that I have an unknown brother, and that I can me
et him if I go to the fair in North Carolina this weekend. You don’t think that sounds like an ambush? Wouldn’t you know if you had another son? Wouldn’t you have told me?”
His father scanned through the screen again. “I thought you could tell if Tori was lying. Was she lying about the boy?”
“You’re saying it could be true?” Dirk knew it was, but needed to pretend he didn’t. “You never checked up on my mom after she left? You never saw her long enough to tell if she’d had another kid?”
His father glared at him coldly. “I thought counterparts could detect lies. Was Tori telling the truth or not?”
She was telling the truth, but Dirk just shrugged. “It’s not that clear cut. Counterparts sense emotions. I lied to Tori plenty of times without being caught.”
“She caught you when it mattered.”
His father was referring to last October, when Dirk tried to lead the Slayers into one of his father’s buildings. Men had been waiting there to ambush them. Dirk had been so torn up by guilt that Tori knew something was wrong.
“It always mattered,” Dirk countered. “I hid who I was from her for months. And if you remember, it was your accent that tipped her off in the end.”
His father grunted and returned his attention to the computer screen. “It’s possible that the Slayers are laying a snare for us, but it’s also possible that I have another son.” He let out a muttered oath and snapped his laptop shut. “Before Bianca left, she was acting strangely, and afterwards, she didn’t visit you for seven months. I should have known. She would have come back sooner if she wasn’t hiding something.”
She would have come back sooner. His father’s words echoed Tori’s, and seemed to be proof that his mother had been at least a little concerned about him. Dirk swallowed, unsure why the words were hard to hear. He’d accepted a long time ago that his mother hadn’t cared about him. Shouldn’t that be the harder truth to bear? And yet now his father was chipping away at it, and pain twisted through the cracks he was making.