“I’ll talk to Flame and have her get them something to wear. Then tomorrow we’ll take them into town and get them something more.” She asked if they were going to get to keep them. “Just like that? You want to keep them?”
“You do too.” Tristan nodded. “Well, get the ball rolling then. And if that prick thinks that he’s going to touch one of those children, he’ll have to come through me. I won’t even need my dragon. I’ll kill him with my bare hands. The nerve of some people. He should have been castrated long before he decided to dip his dick in someone.”
He didn’t tell her that she was ranting, but let her go as she walked toward the last room down the hall.
The faeries had taken the room over some time ago. There were a few hundred in there, most of them working around the house; some of them came here for a short vacation-like stay. He didn’t mind. It was nice to have so much power around the house for times like these. As soon as Wynter opened the door, he knew that the children would not only have their own faeries, but they’d also have more clothing than they could wear. Tristan loved it.
Susie was finished with her bath first. When she came downstairs, she had on a pretty yellow sweatshirt and a pair of bright purple pants. He nearly laughed out loud when she showed him her shoes. They were as green as any neon that he’d ever seen. Wynter didn’t have to point out that she’d picked out her own clothing.
Stephan was dressed in just a pair of jeans that fit him and a sweatshirt that had the name of a band on it. Tristan sat down in the living room with them, the fire roaring to keep them feeling warm, when Stephan spoke to them.
“My father. He’s not a good man.” Neither of them said anything. “He has ideas all the time about making a fast buck or two. That’s what he calls it. But not working.”
“How long have you and your sister been alone?” Stephan looked at Susie, then at Wynter. “You don’t have to tell us, Stephan. But I will tell you this. If he comes back, he’s going to have a lot to answer for. He abandoned the two of you. That’s not right.”
“It’s not the first time he’s done this. Once he took Susie. I had to hitch rides all the way to Columbus to find her.” His face turned red, and Tristan was almost afraid to find out what had happened. “I had to steal her away from his plans.”
“I think I understand.” Tristan nodded when Stephan did. “I wanted to tell you before they just showed up here. I’ve had to call the police. They’re not going to take you away from us. But in order to make sure that both of you are safe and that he doesn’t do anything to your sister again, they have to be made aware of what he’s done.”
“They’ll take us. You know that.” Susie spoke for the first time. “I won’t go. I won’t. They’ll sell us off to anyone that wants us, and I won’t get to see—”
“No one is going to take you from us. No one.” Wynter got down on the floor and sat in front of the children. “As soon as we can arrange it, we’re going to keep you here forever. I don’t want to lose you anymore than Tristan does. In the short time you’ve been here, I’ve fallen in love with you both. You are, as far as I’m concerned, my children, and I will fight anyone that says anything different.”
Stephan smiled and looked at him. “Mrs. Manning sure is furious, isn’t she?” Tristan said that she was. Stephan looked at Wynter. “I’ve been in trouble with the police a couple of times. I want you to know that. I stole some things from the store for Susie to eat. And once, I got caught in another store stealing a blanket. I want you to know that you’re not getting a good person.”
“You’re the best there is, Stephan. You didn’t take candy bars or anything like that. You took things to help your little sister.” He said that she was his sister, and it was his duty to care for her. “And who’s cared for you, Stephan?”
“I do okay.” He looked around the house. “I won’t steal anything from you, Mr. Manning. I promise you that.”
“It never occurred to me that you would. If it had, you’d be in the station house about now, and not sitting in my home with my wife.” Stephan nodded and looked at him. “You can tell me anything, son. I swear to you that whatever it is, I will try and fix it or take care of it.”
When Stephan started to sob, Tristan got up and pulled the boy from the couch. Holding him while he cried, Tristan felt his own heart break for him. Whatever it was, it was hurting Stephan so badly that Tristan wasn’t sure that he wanted to hear it.
“He hurt her.” Tristan said that he’d take care of it, and that he wouldn’t again. “He sold me too. Sold me to a man who...who.... He sold me to some man who raped me. I can’t do that again, Mr. Manning. It hurt me so bad.”
“I’m so sorry, son. I swear to you he’ll never have the chance to do anything to you ever again—to anyone ever again.” Stephan clung to him, crying as hard as he’d ever heard a young man cry. “I promise you, Stephan, he’ll never touch you or your sister, ever.”
At some point, Wynter had taken Susie out of the room. Tristan hurt for the boy. His dragon roared against his flesh so that Tristan had a hard time holding him back. Cooper asked him if he was all right.
I want him dead. Mr. White sold his children to people, and I want him dead, Cooper. He said that Winnie was working on it. No, you don’t understand. I want to do it. I want to look him in the eyes when he figures out that I’m going to fucking kill him. I’m going to make him suffer in ways that even Winnie might not have heard of. He will die by my hand, I swear it.
He told Cooper what had happened, how he was holding Stephan now as he cried about what had been done to him. How her own father had sold his daughter, and if not for Stephan stealing her away, she might well have been killed.
We’ll take care of him. It’s going to be my only job right now to look for him and bring him here. Tristan thanked him. Don’t thank me, Tristan. Just make those kids happier than they have ever been. That will be payment enough.
You can count on it. And he knew that he would make them happy—forever.
Chapter 9
Slayer was locked in a cell that had no windows at all. The door itself was a block of concrete that only held a single hole in it. There wasn’t any need for a lock on it—magic held it tighter than any locking device he’d ever come across. Yesterday, all his magic had been taken from him, and Ian had been killed, right in front of him, so that he could watch him die.
The queen of such creatures had come into the cell he was in now and held his little helper in a magical cage. There were no locks on it either, just strings of magic that the little speck could not touch. Even on his ankles, there were shackles of it. He was being held in place until he was sentenced for his crimes against dragons.
“You have worked for this man?” Ian said yes—screamed it out, as if in pain, really. “You know the rules and what is to be done for the dragons. You disobeyed my laws with this man, and harmed the very thing that is here to keep us safe and magical, did you not?”
Again, the scream of pain.
“It wasn’t his fault.” The queen told Slayer that Ian had free will. “We all do, but he worked for me. I’ll be the one that suffers in his place.”
“Oh, you will, Slayer of Dragons. Mark my words. You will suffer greatly for your crimes as well. It is said that you killed many dragons with your words to humans. Pointed out where they were living because this creature had found them. You both will suffer. But I have only the ability to kill this one. He will be no more.”
As he watched, the magic began to kill Ian. The cage that he was in shifted and became a stone around him. There was no way for the thing to get any air, but Slayer knew that it didn’t need air so much as it needed the sun and the water around him. Cutting him off from the very things that he needed would make the tiny man suffer terribly, and he would do so for a great many decades, until he became nothing more than a small pebble inside the stone walls. A million or more years from now, the stone within would be nothing that anyone would have imagined as being a
brownie.
“For your crimes against my kind, I have been given permission to take all your magic. All save the magic that keeps you as you are now, living. You will live, but no longer will you heal from any injuries. You’ll no longer have magic to call forth weapons to defend yourself. You will be killed, thankfully, by the king of dragons, and you will suffer more than this creature will, that lost his life because of you.” Queen Aurora waved her hands over the stone prison cell that Ian was in.
Slayer felt it, his being drained away. He was beginning to feel his age too. His bones were brittle. Slayer could no longer see perfectly as he had before. Then larger things started to settle into his body. His back was aching to the point of tears. There were large spots on his body, his hands mostly.
And now, today, he couldn’t even eat the slop that they’d brought him. Last night his teeth had fallen out. All of them just fell out at once whist he was sleeping. Slayer thought that he might have swallowed one or two of them as well.
“Come with me.”
He didn’t have any idea that someone had opened the cell up. It took him several seconds to let the light that was blinding him make it so that he could see who it was. Still, even after that, he didn’t know who the person was, but thought for sure it was a Manning dragon.
Slayer could only shuffle around now, he noticed. His feet hurt from some ailment that he’d never felt before. Even his hips felt like they were made of iron, and did not want to bend well. Holding on to the stick that he was given to walk, he was sure that he’d never be able to straighten his back again for as long as he lived. However, he doubted that complaining about it would matter overly much. He was to die soon anyway.
In the yard he had to do the same thing—squint at the sunlight that had been made brighter by the snow. Slayer had never even been chilled before today, and now he was nearly frozen solid. The wind was so cold on his old bones, his ears and nose felt like they would never thaw.
“Slayer, what do you have to say for yourself.”
He just looked at the large man before him. Winnie, in all her glory, was standing to his left, a great female dragon to his right. Slayer knew this man to be the king of all dragons. But he didn’t acknowledge the king at all, or his station as king of all those creatures that he hated.
“Say? About what? Ridding the world of your kind? That was my job, in the event that you didn’t know that. Just as yours is to rule them. Not so many of them now, are there?” He looked around at the other five dragons. “So, is it death by fire? I’m well and ready for it. Bring it on so that I can get going on my projects.”
“You think to anger me so that I’ll be foolhardy and kill you quickly. I’m afraid that won’t happen. There are more pressing matters going on that anger me more than a creature such as yourself.” The king laughed. “As for you thinking that you’ll die by fire, nay, you will not. I will not give you the pleasure of such a quick death. Rose, my faerie, has a plan for your demise that will last for less time than I had hopes for you.”
He was deathly afraid of the faerie Rose. Most people who knew her were as well. She was protective of the king and his family, and made sure that the others were taken care of too. Rose did not suffer fools lightly, and she had an army that could and would tear a man to shreds while he still lived. Slayer didn’t think there was a crueler death than the one that he’d been sentenced to. He thought about begging, but was sure that he’d be turned down.
“What if I have something to trade for my life?” He had nothing that hadn’t already been taken from him, but he was desperate to have his death done by fire. “I have your book.”
“No you don’t. I have it. It’s been in our possession since long before you came here.” Slayer asked him how he’d gotten it. “From your buddy, the man that worked for you. Just after you killed him, as a matter of fact. We’ve even been able to retrieve the notes, little of them that there were, from Eric and his friend Allen. You should have known better than to have a book printed up about how to kill a dragon. It wasn’t all that correct, but I have that as well.”
Nothing seemed to be his any longer. All his notes too, he’d bet, had been taken from his den—his lair, as Ian so loved to call it. Then he remembered that Eric had one important assignment to do.
“Where is he? He had a job do to for me.” The king asked him if it was to kill the female dragon so that she’d not be a mate to his brother. “He sure did tell you a great deal. I do hope that you’ve killed him too.”
“He failed at his task.” Surely he didn’t, was all Slayer could think about. Who would carry on his works if the dragons could breed dragons? “You might also like to know that he was very helpful in his last minutes. The dragons that he killed in the name of your cause will also go against you today. The house, too, has been taken to the ground. No one would want to live in it, not with having so much death surrounding it.”
“That house is mine. You had no right to that. I had it built when you were nothing more than a broken shell.” The dragons, the king’s brothers, roared at him, and he felt the heat of it. Not enough to even brown his flesh or to even warm his bones, but it was a warning—a warning of something more to come. “You will pay for that, king of dragons, see if you don’t.”
Rose hit him then. His body burned hotly when she burrowed through it. When she landed on his arm, looking up at him, he could see his blood over her, her body covered in it. He nearly fell to the ground, but she waved her hand and he stood up a little straighter.
“Do you plan to keep me living while you fill me full of holes? I will not allow that. I am, after all, a slayer of dragons.” She laughed at him. Not only did she laugh, but everyone did. Something that Slayer hated more than anything was to be the butt of jokes. “You’ll keep yourself civil, young lady. I will not tolerate you making jest of me while I am a man that should be respected.”
“You gave no respect, you’ll receive none. Especially not from me.” She flew up so that she was right in front of his face. The need to slap her away was great. She looked at him like she was daring him do try. “It will begin.”
At first he wasn’t sure what she meant. But when the army that only she ruled lined up behind her, their bodies hard with something like steel, he knew as surely as he was standing there that he was going to suffer as greatly as the queen had told him.
One by one they entered his body. His cheek first, then his leg. Never did they touch the same place twice. Soon he crumbled to the snow—his knees had both been taken out, and even some of his toes. Different parts of his body were drilled through. He lost fingers, and his jaw felt to the snow, staining it black with his corrupted lifeline.
As much as he told himself that he’d not do it, he begged. For mercy, but mostly for his own death—whatever he could get that would end his suffering. Slayer’s body parts, some small, some larger, lay around him. He didn’t even understand why he was still alive, as much as he had suffered.
“You have suffered nothing. Not compared to the mothers and fathers that lost their children. The dragons that were killed that had others to care for. Or even the humans that suffered at your hand when you took their children in the name of being a slayer.” Rose stood above him, her body hot with anger and blood. “You will suffer as you are for nine hundred years. Broken pieces of the thing that you were before. A shell of the bastard that you have always been.”
He was picked up. Even that had him screaming in pain. He saw that his fingers were brought too and put with him, as were all the parts of himself that had been taken from him. When he was returned to the cell, his pieces were there as well, laid out around him as if he wasn’t broken apart.
I do not deserve this, he thought to himself. The slab of stone moved back into place. He screamed in his mind at them until he was aching from it. Did you hear me? I’m a great man. I do not deserve to be treated thusly. You will kill me now. I do not deserve to suffer as you have made me.
Slayer laid there lo
ng after he’d been brought to this place. He would be there for nine hundred years. His body hurt now that the cold no longer kept it away. Slayer cried for all that had been taken from him, tears of blood streaming down his face. Things were not supposed to end this way for him. He’d been around a great many years, making sure that the dragons were dead by his rule. It wasn’t fair that he was being treated this way.
He closed his eye. One of them laid on the floor next to where he lay, staring up at him as if it were his fault that this had transpired. With his thoughts—his mouth no longer working without his jaw or tongue to make it work—he told the eye that he’d done no such thing. That it had been that bastard, the king’s fault. He would still be out killing dragons if he’d not been caught.
It was unfair, that’s what it was, that he was going to have to be like this for a thousand years, alive and broken as he was. As soon as he was free, he told himself, he was going to put himself back together and go after the king. Yes, he thought, he’d do that too.
~*~
Bruce White pulled into the gas station just outside of town. He hated to come here. It just seemed stupid to him that people had to pay for gasoline. If they wanted people to spend money to upgrade, or whatever they called helping the economy, then they should just make it so that gas was free. He needed to be in the White House. He thought that he could do a good job.
“For the underdogs. Like me.” He had some bucks left over from selling off his daughter. “Damned man would only give me a bit of it before he saw her.” The woman in the car next to him just glared. “Mind your own fucking business, bitch.”
He finished putting gas in his car and got in. Now all he had to do was find them kids. Damn it all to hell, he should have ordered them to stay where he left them. It would take him all day to find them, he figured.
Tristan: The Manning Dragons ― Paranormal Dragon Shifter Romance Page 11