Vane Page 2
“There you are, beautiful,” she said, sticking the tip of her tongue out at him. Even that was pierced. “What are you having?”
Cale grinned back at her and held up two fingers. None of the human guests could understand what they were talking about. Ava wondered what they’d think if they knew he was cashing in on their kill—decapitated nightfolk.
Regina nodded. “Two in one night? Not bad for someone who’s got a human dragging her feet behind him.” She disappeared into the kitchen again and when she returned, she leaned over the counter and gave Cale a kiss on the cheek, followed by the customary red dragon pat on the shoulder, using the physical contact to slip the money for the siren kill into his pocket.
When she pulled away, Regina darted brown eyes in Ava’s direction. “It’s wrong…having a human listen to our talk and watch our dealings.” Her top lip pulled into a bit of a snarl. “I don’t like it.”
“Well, I don’t like you,” Ava said, her arms crossed while she shrugged. “But I still have to look at your face every time I want to pay my bills. If I can suck it up, so can you.”
Cale shook his head at Ava, then moved closer to her and put an arm over her shoulders. “She doesn’t like you, Reg. What am I supposed to do?”
“Quit bringing her in here. That’s what you’re supposed do.” She frowned at the pair of them. “Victor’s right. The two of you are trouble waiting to happen. I heard she’s a liar. ‘Deceitful One,’ or something like that.”
“‘The Deceiver.’ And Victor’s an idiot, too.” Ava didn’t care if she offended the trader. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she needed to play nice with the girl. Reggie gave out money for siren kills, and that money was how Ava, who had always been broke, and Cale, whose family had abandoned him, paid for their rent and food. But Reggie and her boyfriend, Victor, always had something to say about Ava being human. As if she could help it. As if she could say, “You’re right, guys…I better quit being a human being.”
Cale hurried Ava out, probably to avoid a brawl between her and the red dragon. Outside, the air smelled much less like meat, and Ava felt a lot less like puking. Cale frowned. “It’s like you want to fight,” he said.
Ava looked at the restaurant over her shoulder. “We might as well get it out of the way. It’s going to happen sooner or later.”
“No, it’s not, Ava. Not here, and not Reggie.” He pulled the cash out of his pockets and flipped through the bills. Fifty per nightfolk. He stopped and counted again. “This isn’t right.”
Ava took the bills and flipped through them herself. “It’s supposed to be a hundred a head.” She looked back towards the bustling ‘Friday Fry.’ “She ripped us off. And then had the nerve to call me the liar.”
Cale gave a shoulder-heaving sigh. “Reggie wouldn’t do that. We go way back. I’ll go talk to her.” He put his hand on Ava’s shoulder. “Please wait out here. Please.”
“Sure,” Ava said.
Cale tilted his head at her. She had given in way too easily. “Ava, you’ll just make it worse if you come in and make a scene. Reggie already hates you.”
She nodded and backed up, her hands up in mock surrender. “I understand. I’ll wait out here.”
Cale only half believed her as he parted through the crowd and pushed his way back to the counter. He waited until Reggie was done flinging buckets of French fries at her human guests before he got her attention.
She dried her hands in a towel. “Where’s your leech? Rid of her already?”
Cale had to clench his jaw to keep from defending Ava. He tried to be patient, to make light of it, but he hated when reds talked bad about her. Still, he needed this to be over quickly, or Ava would come looking for him. “We’re short, Reg. We had two kills tonight.”
She filled up an enormous cup with bubbling soda and passed it to the hands that grabbed for it. “Yeah, they’re cutting back, sweet lips. Pay decrease comes all the way from Great Nest. Nothing I can do about it.”
Cale moved closer, so he could whisper to her in red tongue. “But they’re taking it down by fifty percent, Reggie. We barely survive with what we make on a good night. How are we supposed to survive on half?”
“I don’t know, handsome. There are so many sirens, they can’t keep up with paying full price for each head. That’s how trading goes. I don’t set the numbers.”
It didn’t make sense to argue. He could tell by the way her eyes darted to the kitchen that she was done talking and ready to get back to work. It was an observation most reds wouldn’t have noticed, but the time Cale had spent with his younger brother had made him more aware than most. Then again, a blue dragon like Cameron would have avoided a conversation at all costs.
Cale found Ava pacing outside, her jeans still smeared in purple ooze. She stopped and looked at him with a head nod that, for Ava, meant “well, how’d it go?” Cale loved that she didn’t notice the blood that drenched her clothes. He loved that it didn’t matter to her if she had a dragonblade tucked in her pocket, that she was impatient and quiet at the same time. He loved all of her, the way a dragon should love his rider. But he tried not to let it show.
“They’ve changed the prices. Cut them in half since we have an overflow of sirens.”
Ava’s eyes widened. “In half?” She paused for a second, as if thinking. “In half?” She shook her head. “How are we supposed to…?”
Cale figured it wasn’t the best time for his stomach to growl, but it was so loud it could have set off a car alarm.
Ava sighed the biggest sigh she ever had. It was hard enough before, when she and her foster mother, Miriam, lived with Jim and had to scrape by even though he was loaded. Now, Ava had Cale to think about an entire bigger-than-life dragon to feed and clothe. And god, did he tear through clothes and meat faster than humanly possible.
“We better walk home,” she said.
She didn’t want to look at the face she knew was coming. A shadow of disappointment, the way she knew his eyes would lower and his color would pale just a bit. He nodded his agreement. Flying was more expensive than they had anticipated. He tended to scorch Ava’s clothes, even if she wore dragonthread, and Cale was ravenous once he changed back to first form. There was only so much meat they could fit in their fridge. And with their kills worth nothing, they couldn’t even afford to keep the refrigerator running.
They walked side by side, not saying much, Ava running her thumb over the crests in her pocket. It was the blue dragon she’d met in the forest, the one who’d abducted Philip Coston and bargained with his daughter for his release. Ava had been the bargaining chip, and the blue dragon had shared with her his plans, his ambitions. With a touch, he could end a siren’s life, and for that reason, somehow, it drew them to him.
But why share his secrets? Why tell me about the siren army, about the pearl? Why me? Questions. So many questions she needed answered.
And as Cale studied his rider, her brown curls and cinnamon skin, the tightness of toned muscles and the jut of her chin while she thought, he saw what he’d always seen in her—a steady courage and the quickening shimmer of pure gold just beneath her surface.
***
“You killed him.”
Cale popped another cube of raw steak into his mouth. He slurped the blood from his fingers and looked up from the bowl. “I knew he’d never come back alive. One look at him, with his sweet little face, and I was like…‘She’s going to kill him.’”
Onna closed the front door behind her, a glimmering gold handbag dangling from her slender wrist, a black dress so tight the seams would have ripped if they hadn’t been stitched with dyed dragonthread. She sighed and strutted over. In one flawless move, she was perched on the countertop. She crossed her legs so that her razor sharp stilettos were poised to strike.
“I probably should have.” She pulled out the piece of dragonblade that held her hair in a tight bun and the midnight-black tresses fell pin straight past her shoulders. “He was useless.”
Onna gestured to Cale, who sat shirtless on the little black futon, licking his fingers, his siren scars and the tan he’d picked up in Great Nest making it impossible for her to notice anything else but him. “Of course he was freaked out. He walks in here and you’re posed like a shirtless warrior god telling him he better be a gentleman.”
Cale rolled his eyes. “Sure. I intimidated him. Not the girl with the six inch heels and the daggers in her hair.”
Onna smiled at the compliment, but it dripped off her face when Ava walked into the room.
Ava looked like she had just woken up, her brown curls a tumbling mess, her t-shirt disheveled, her pajama shorts peeking out just beneath her shirt hem. She plopped down next to Cale without a thought, and Cale repositioned, put his arm over her so she could lean against him. The relief was visible on his face, as if something had been pinching him and it had finally stopped once she was beside him.
“What are you doing up?” Ava pulled her legs onto the futon and shoved her hair out of her eyes. “And why is Onna in our kitchen?”
Cale grinned. “Onna had a date.”
Ava’s eyes opened a little wider, and Cale had to stop. It wasn’t just the color—jade green with swirls of amber. It was the confidence he always found in them. A screaming, silent strength.
Ava looked around the tiny apartment she shared with her dragon and her foster mother. Onna’s alleged date was nowhere in sight. “Where’d he go?” She looked back up at the girl. “Did you kill him?”
Onna scowled. “I sent him home to his mother. Weeping? Perhaps. But definitely still breathing.” It didn’t matter if her date had been perfect. He wasn’t Cale. And Onna wasn’t Ava. The way the two of them sat, as if they had known each other all their lives, as if Ava was the sun and Cale the moon…
Cale motioned the bowl to Onna, who shook her head. Then he paused. “Why are you glaring at Ava like that?”
Onna didn’t have to think. “I hate her.”
Ava sighed before she stood up. She was done with Onna and her perfect lip gloss and her gladiator heels. She was done with all of them. She and Cale were pacted. It happened and nothing could change that. Ava pushed her knotted curls out of her eyes again and yawned. “Get over it, O’Hara,” she said. Then to Cale, “I’m going to bed for real.” Her bare feet took her off into the bedroom she and Cale shared.
Onna tried to ignore the glare she felt coming from Cale. But he wasn’t letting up.
“I know, I know,” she said at last, rolling her eyes.
“I need the two of you to get along, Onna. It can’t be that hard for you to like her.” He stood up, crossed the room, and opened the front door.
Recognizing her invitation to leave, Onna slid off the counter. She paused in the doorway and tried to ignore how tall Cale was, how his muscles had begun to look more defined. She bit her lip against how much she wanted to touch him.
“You always choose her,” she said, her brown eyes full.
Cale met her gaze, and she wished he would just lie to her. But he was Cale. And he couldn’t.
“Every time,” he said. “Ava every time.”
Onna gave a bitter smile and turned to leave, her onyx hair rippling behind her. But Cale caught her by the arm and pulled her back into a hug. His arms were warm, familiar. She’d gotten dozens of those hugs over the years, and still she was sure she could never have enough.
“You’ll always be my best friend, Onna.” He pulled away and put his hand on her shoulder. “I mean, look around. You’re still here. My own nest won’t talk to me because I chose Ava over them, and you’re still here.”
Before she left, before she walked into her own kind of alone, she tiptoed and kissed his cheek. “Every time, Cale. Every time.”
Inside the bedroom, without Cale, Ava knew she should stretch out her tight muscles, but she threw herself into their unmade bed—which really was no more than a full-size mattress and a tangle of dragonthread sheets that had come as a gift from some of the dragons in Great Nest. She didn’t mind that they never made the bed. It reminded her of an actual nest, a little like the kind of thing she’d thought a dragon might sleep in before she actually met one.
It was strange, Cale not beside her. Cold and foreign without the warmth of his body. And quiet without the rustling of his deep breathing. She reached her limbs out, at the same time relishing the extra room and wishing she was squished by her dragon. She couldn’t believe she’d been without him for seventeen years. She couldn’t believe how much she’d come to rely on his being there.
Yet, there was something relieving and beautiful about being without him. And that, above all else, worried her.
She wiggled forward and reached into her worn navy blue backpack. She pulled out the notebook she’d been keeping. Most of the pages had been torn out, the ridges of paper left behind creating a bulge. She dated the top of the page, careful not to get the purple ink on her hands, and began scribbling.
I haven’t eaten anything in three days. Sometimes I chew on something so Cale doesn’t get suspicious, but no solid meals. Still, that’s not that bad. What I can’t handle is the urge to leave him. Again. I know he’s my dragon. I know that. I can’t keep wanting and not wanting him at the same time. I’m losing my mind over here. Please write back.
With as delicate a hand as she could manage, she tore off the page and folded it as small as she could. Each tear and each fold made her stomach turn over. The paper wriggled between her fingers, as if it was…alive. Then she opened the water bottle she kept in her bag, slipped the piece of paper in, and shook it.
She heard the click of the door opening and stuffed the brown leather book and water bottle back into her bag. She rolled over in the pile of sheets to welcome Cale in. He dived, landing so hard that it bounced Ava into the air. He chuckled and threw his arm over her, pulling her closer to him.
“She finally gone?” Ava asked.
He sighed, snuggled close to his rider. “Onna doesn’t mean to be like that with you, Ava.”
Ava lengthened her lean limbs beneath Cale’s warm arm. At once, there was a pang of anxiety, her chest tightening. He’s so close. She tried to take a deep breath. Deflect. Change the subject.
“I’m not stupid. Onna hates me, Reggie hates me…your whole family hates me.” She slid out from underneath him and sat up. Then, she pulled a rubber band from her wrist and twisted it around her hair. She felt better being further away, but somehow so much worse. As if she wanted to hurl herself back towards him. As if she wanted to disappear. “I know I’m not nice or friendly or kind like you. People aren’t ever going to like me. I’m perfectly okay with that.”
He wished she hadn’t pulled away. His arm felt colder without her near him. “I like you,” he offered.
She looked at him, the way his light brown eyes didn’t waver, the way his body leaned forward as though he wanted nothing more than to hold her, and she wished she wasn’t battling both longing and the desire to run. “You have to like me. Just like you have to tell the truth.”
Cale was about to argue when he heard something. He sat up, every hair on his body alert, as if the air was rifled with static electricity. His stomach constricted, almost turning over on itself. It made his muscles tighten and pull against his bones, telling him it was time to move. And when it happened, somewhere deep inside him, someplace he couldn’t describe, began to burn. It spread through his chest, his blood boiling in his veins, his heart pumping too fast. His core told him what he needed to do. Protect her. Get her out. Get her safe.
“What?” Ava asked. “You hungry again?”
He put a finger to his lips, his light brown ey
es a sharp gold, his irises mere slivers. He exhaled, and a thin stream of smoke left his lips and unfurled into the air, dissipating with the currents of their tired ceiling fan.
Ava shoved her hand under the edge of the mattress and pulled out her dragonblade. “Sirens? Here?” she mouthed, not daring to whisper.
Cale’s breathing acceleerted without him wanting it to. He could taste the metallic flush of blood as his heart raced. Run, it told him. Take her and run. He hated the truth of what he felt, but he couldn’t fight it.
Fear.
He stood, reaching out his arm to Ava. She hesitated a moment before she grabbed onto his hand and stood. She hesitated. But he pushed it out of his mind. He hurried to the window, thrust it poen. Then, he looked to her, asking without words if they could fly far, far away from their little world.
But before she could open her mouth to say the words, the ceiling trembled, the plaster cracking as if a river was bursting through from above. Cale shielded Ava as the ceiling fan caved, rushing to the ground in a shower of dust and wood and screams.
“Now,” Cale shouted to his rider. His body pinned hers to the wall, shielding her as best she could from what was coming next. “Fly now.”
She gasped, coughing from the cloud of plaster dust. “Wait,” she managed. “Wait.”
Cale didn’t have a choice, even though he wanted to take her away. He couldn’t make her go. He couldn’t make her say it. And there was no way he could leave her. So he took out his dragonblade and he waited too.
The thunder of wings too large to fit in the room. The talons hitting the floor, shaking the building. A roar that was more of a sonic boom. Cale knelt, not because he wanted to, but because he had to. He still held his weapon, his knuckles going white as he gripped it. Not again. I won’t let them touch us again.
Atop the back of the dragon, his black leather boots and dark cape a perfect match to the oiled scales of his dragon’s hide, sat the rider.