Dragon Heartstring (4 page)

Demetrius was awfully silent, while frustration welled inside of me, tightening my gut. For Jessen not believing in our clan’s ability to get our proposal passed, for the fact the Volt gun had been created and sold in mass market, for the fact we still lived in a corrupt, unjust world.

“Jessen’s right,” he said gently. “You need businessmen who will back your proposal. Human businessmen.”

“I know,” I said, gathering the plates and hastily plopping them back into the basket. “So much for Gladium being the enlightened city in a world of ignorance.” I stood abruptly, needing to walk off my frustration.

He joined me and grabbed my hand, stopping me from slipping away. Stunned, I stared down at his strong hand wrapped around mine. He let me go, and some part of me wished he hadn’t.

“Yes, it’s true Gladium is not yet as tolerant as it ought to be. And while laws have tried to enforce equality, you must realize that people can’t easily change their way of thinking. Many have been taught from childhood to fear Morgonkind.”

“Why can’t they change their way of thinking? I have,” I snapped. “I used to believe Morgons were the superior race. Until I moved here. Until I opened my own clinic so that I could treat humans. You know why I wanted to treat them?” My voice shook, but I couldn’t stop the confession from spilling. He said not a word, simply held me in his warm gaze. “Because I pitied them. I felt sorry for humans who didn’t have the magical gifts we did, who weren’t born with the advanced genes Morgons have. But after I healed several patients and I had the experience of knowing humans on an intimate level, I realized that humans have their own gifts. Of compassion and kindness and love they seem to give more freely than my own race.” Unable to hold back my emotion, a tear slipped down my cheek. I turned away.

“Please don’t cry.” He reached into his pocket and handed me a handkerchief.

Ashamed at my loss of control, I briskly wiped the tears.

He let me gather my composure, then said gently, “Morgons and humans both have the capacity for love. And for hate.”

Unable to meet his gaze, for I didn’t want to find pity there, I stared down at my fingers twisting his handkerchief.

“Look at me, Shakara. Please.”

I did.

“I plan to champion your cause. I want the ban on the Volt gun. For my own reasons. But also for your people.” He paused, then added quietly, almost inaudibly. “For you.”

Struck by this admission, I steadied my breathing and tried to calm myself. Why would he want to help me?

“Won’t that hurt Cade Enterprises?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. It will depend upon my father and where he stands.”

“You would go against your father for this?”

“I would do more for—” He stopped himself before he finished his thought.

Julian squealed with laughter. He and Jessen had the kite lifting back up into the air.

“She’s a beautiful dragon,” I remarked, heart still hammering from our intimate encounter.

“Yes,” he said, still gazing down at me, “she is.”

T
he head
of the Chamber of Commerce had gone through all the items on the agenda except one. I’d said nothing the entire meeting. One of the older board members blustered about a slight export tax increase, but then settled down when it was announced the import tax had nearly doubled. Since most of us on the board exported vast quantities of goods to the human province Primus and even to the northern Morgon provinces of Drakos and Cloven, profits would continue to rise.

Finally, the head of the board shuffled his stack of papers to the last page. He cleared his throat. “Lastly, the Icewing clan is presenting a proposal before the senate two weeks from today. The proposal summary reads, ‘Due to inhumane and unsanctioned manufacturing, the Morgon Guild proposes a removal of the Volt gun from the human market and confiscation of the weapon from current distributors.”

“What? The Guild members have lost their minds. Why would human manufacturers and distributors possibly give up millions because a few Morgons have suddenly labeled the gun inhumane?”

It was Terrence Blackwater, a colleague and friend of the Grayson family. He could pretend surprise all he wanted, but he knew about this proposal before he stepped in here.

“Because it is,” I said from my end of the table.

All eyes swiveled to me.

Terrence chuckled. “Demetrius, don’t tell me the Cade family is buying into this.”

“The Cade family will abide by whatever ruling parliament makes.”

“Then there’s no more debate,” said Terrence, leaning back in his chair. “Parliament cannot possibly rule against us.”

“And who is ‘us’?” I asked pointedly.

Terrence laughed with a wave of his hand. “Who do you think, Cade? Whose side are you on?”

“I didn’t realize there were sides.”

He scoffed. “You’ve been spending too much time with your in-laws and that…nephew of yours.”

Leaning forward, I clenched my fist on the glass table. Pierson, a friend of my father’s, pressed a hand to my sleeve to keep me in place. I swept my gaze around the room. “I suggest you all prepare for the banning of the Volt gun. The fact is, it
is
inhumane.”

“That’s preposterous,” said one of the white-haired members who’d been on the Chamber since I was an infant. “It’s no more inhumane than a handgun or a long-gun.”

Unclenching my fist, I tapped a finger casually, though my blood ran like wildfire through my veins. “Hmm. Let me see. Is there a handgun on the market that guarantees death upon impact? Is there a long-gun that guarantees death upon impact of the deer you hunt, even if it merely grazes a leg?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a sport,” grumbled Pierson.

“That’s absolutely true,” I said. “There are few instances in our society where guns are meant for a guaranteed kill. If there’s an intruder in your home, you want to stop them, wound them. Even the Gladium Police Precinct does not sanction the use of Volt guns. Have you ever wondered why?”

Terrence waved a hand with a grunt of disgust. “That’s just politics. If we could remove all the red tape, they’d be allowed to use Volt guns. I mean, how do we know when these savages plan to turn on us? We’ve got to be ready.”

Silence fell across the table. The head of the board shuffled his papers again. I stood, glaring down the table at Terrence.

“And there you have it gentlemen. Bigotry at its best.” I buttoned my suit jacket and walked toward the door. I turned once more to the hushed group of men. Human men. “But you’d better take a look around and consider your own motives, gentlemen. Gladium has been declared
by law
an equal opportunity state. While I stand here in this room, I see not one Morgon representing their own kind while you make your accusations against them. Perhaps that’s because no Morgon would choose to keep a weapon on the market that murders their own kind so they can make another buck.”

I didn’t bother to excuse myself but stormed out before I lunged across the room and punched Terrence in his perfect white teeth. I could hardly think straight as I made my way to the parking garage and clicked my fob to unlock my black SUV. As soon as I settled behind the wheel, my car comm bleeped. My secretary was calling.

“Answer,” I commanded my voice-activated car comm, one of my most successful products since I took over Cade Technologies.

Nadine popped on-screen, smiling brightly as usual. The woman was never in a bad mood. “Good morning, Mr. Cade.”

“Morning, Nadine.”

“You’ve had a request from Aron Grayson’s office for an appointment tomorrow morning. Your schedule is clear, but I know you often make your rounds at the stores on Thursdays. I wanted to check with you first.”

Aron Grayson wanted an appointment with me? What a coincidence after the Chamber of Commerce meeting I just left. I hadn’t spoken to the man since I’d left him in the burn unit at the hospital four years ago. I’d seen him at charities, but had stayed well away from him to avoid conflict.

“Sir?”

“Uh, yes. Go ahead and schedule him in. And move whatever else I have this morning to tomorrow. I’ll go into the city today for my site visits.”

“Very well, sir.”

Curious why Aron was reaching out after all this time, I clicked off the comm. But I was fairly sure I knew the answer. We’d been friends once. But our friendship died long ago.

Switching my thoughts and my direction toward the Warwick District, I smiled. Today would be a good day to drop in on our tech shop there, one block over from Sable Street.

“
C
arra
, where’s the Weber chart?” I asked before stepping in to see the last patient still waiting.

“Oh, sorry, Ms. Icewing. I thought I’d put it in the door cubby.” She popped off her chair and pulled the file before I could beat her to it. “Right here.”

“That’s fine. Thank you.”

I’d hired Carra with the hope that a kind, human face in the front office would diminish the fears of our few human clients who risked coming to a free clinic run by Morgon healers.

“What’s the injury? No broken bones, I hope.”

“No. A stomach ailment only, his mother said.”

“Good,” I said with a heavy sigh. “I’m fatigued from healing this morning’s construction workers.”

Using Morgon magic to heal always drained the Icewing healer. The greater the injury, the more energy was required and the more tired we’d become. The two Morgon men whose legs were crushed under a fallen pylon needed extensive healing. I was nearly wiped out for the day.

Carra returned to the cabinet where she was filing charts from this morning’s patients. “You should take the day off tomorrow to rest.”

“Yes. I probably should.” I glanced at the human child’s chart, noting he was a new patient, but the mother had been into the clinic before. “This one should be quick, though,” I said, entering room three where Daniel Weber sat, clutching at his stomach. His mother straightened when I entered.

“Hello, Ms. Weber. Good to see you again. How is your hand?”

“Fine. Much better, thank you. Doesn’t hurt at all.”

She lifted her hand and showed me the shining, starburst-patterned scar spanning from her knuckles to her wrist where an overturned pot of scalding water had given her a severe burn. After I’d healed her with cold-fire, the pain had vanished, but I’d certainly left my mark.

“And Daniel, it seems you have some sort of stomach bug?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled.

His face was pale, and his palms were cold when I knelt and took hold of his hands.

“Okay, Daniel. I want you to look at me and relax,” I said, placing one palm on his belly and the other on his forehead. “I’m just going to see what’s going on with your tummy. You won’t feel a thing.”

He nodded.

I closed my eyes and lit that part of me inside that sought out sickness and injury. The cold burn flared in my chest. Trickling like water through my veins, threads of electric energy spread outward through my hands and into Daniel.

“That’s it. Just one more minute.”

Energy pulsed along the connection to seek the source of the boy’s illness. Finally, I found it. The resulting reverberation that came back to me tasted of bitterness, which always meant a virus. I opened my eyes and smiled at Mrs. Weber who watched in awe.

“Well, the good news is it’s only a stomach virus. Nothing too serious.”

I opened the cabinet behind me and found the medicine that had been shipped from the Icewing clan north of Singing Wind Wood in the Feygreir Mountains. The clan thrived there, still cultivating home remedies of the forest and infusing their healing magic into the medicine. Thankfully, with my father’s influence, they had agreed to ship me medicine each month, such as woundwort paste, an antiseptic, and comfrey juice for joint pain.

“Here. Drink one spoonful diluted in warm water three times a day until the symptoms stop.”

“Oh,” said Mrs. Weber, taking the bottle. “You don’t need to…well, you know.”

“No,” I said with a little laugh. “We can’t heal viruses with cold-fire, I’m afraid. But this medicine comes from my home clan. I can promise you it is the best remedy for this kind of illness.” I opened the door to walk them out. “I’d keep Daniel indoors at least one day more after the symptoms stop. Lots of rest. And keep him hydrated.”

“Yes. Thank you, Ms. Icewing.”

As I escorted them to the lobby, I heard Carra talking to someone. I wanted nothing more than to call it a day, but the patients seemed to keep piling up.

“Here she is now, Mr. Cade.”

My stomach flipped at the sound of his name. Then it looped a second time when he came into view. While Carra straightened her desk, she glanced nervously at the dapper Demetrius Cade. Standing tall and looking like perfection in a dark navy suit, white starched shirt, and a silver tie, he greeted me with a slight nod, his black locks sliding forward over his brow. I pretended my knees weren’t about to buckle and sauntered casually forward.

“Have a good day Mrs. Weber and remember to give him the medicine as directed.”

“Yes, I will,” she said, ushering Daniel out the door.

“Well, hello,” I said, greeting him beside Carra’s desk and clasping my hands in front of me. “What brings you here? You’re not ill, I hope.”

“Not at all,” he said with a tilted smile. The man probably rarely smiled, and so it seemed his mouth was having trouble forming a proper one. “I had hoped to speak with you if I could. Perhaps over lunch?”

Carra knocked over a cylinder, spilling pens across her desk, a few falling off the edge onto the carpet. “I’m sorry,” she said, flustered.

“It’s all right, Carra,” I said before turning back to him. “Sure, I was about to break for lunch anyway. Let me get my bag in the back.”

I walked down the hall past the examination rooms into my office. Carra was on my heels the instant I stepped through the door. “Do you know who that is?” she asked in a yelling whisper, her eyes alight with glee.

“Yes,” I said, pulling open the filing cabinet where I kept my purse. “That’s Demetrius Cade. Jessen’s brother.”

She laughed hysterically. “That is Demetrius
Cade
. Most eligible and delicious and wealthy and beautiful bachelor in all of Gladium.”

“Good Lord, Carra. He doesn’t have all those titles, does he?”

She shook her head in disbelief. “You have no idea. I’ve never seen him in person. Only in the social event columns. But
wow
, he’s even lovelier up close. And he smells like
heaven
.”

“Please don’t faint and hit your head. I’m too tired to do a healing to stitch you up.” I shouldered my bag and walked into the hall.

Carra scooted along behind me. “I can’t believe you’re going on a lunch date with him,” she yell-whispered again.

I spun and stopped. “It is not a date. Just lunch. You heard him. He wants to talk to me about something. Most probably the parliament hearing or a family issue.”

Carra propped a hand on her hip and smirked. “If he just wanted to speak with you, he could do it right here in the clinic. No. Conversation plus food plus two attractive single adults equals a date.”

Carra was doing nothing for my nerves. Her date-labeling this casual lunch amped my anxiety to red alert. I smoothed my skirt and my hair hurriedly.

“You look great,” she said with a grin. “And I want all the details tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I said back in the same girlish whispering, feeling ridiculous. “I’ll give you all the details if you don’t swoon over him and embarrass the both of us.”

She giggled. “I won’t. It’s just that…it’s Demetrius
Cade
.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.” I lifted my chin and marched out into the lobby as calm as I could. “Ready?”

“Ready.” He held the door open for me. “It was nice meeting you, Carra,” he added with a smile.

“It was nice, too,” she said, giggling neurotically. “For me to meet you, I mean. Also.”

I gave her a look and hurried out the door. “So, where to?” I asked once out on the street.

“Wherever you like,” he said. “Sicero’s is not far from here.”

Sicero’s was an elegant, posh, and crazy expensive restaurant I’d never stepped foot in.

“Hmm, why don’t we go a bit more casual if you don’t mind? The bistro on the corner is quite good.”

“The bistro it is then.”

We walked along Sable Street in silence. I glanced over and caught him staring. “Mr. Cade, you’re examining me. And it’s a little unnerving.”

More like a lot.

“Sorry. I guess I was just expecting different attire for a healer.”

I glanced down at my v-cut sapphire blouse and A-line black skirt that swished just above my knees. “I suppose you expected a white cloak and comfy, ugly shoes.”

“Perhaps I did.”

He opened the door for me when we stepped up to the bistro. I took the lead to the corner booth that had more privacy. He slid into the seat across from me as I shifted my wings to a comfortable position.

“Well, if you’re not going to ask me, then I’ll tell you.”

“Tell me what?” he asked.

“You’re wondering about the healing process, I imagine. And why I might choose to wear regular clothes rather than a protective coat.”

He nodded and waited.

“First of all, we rarely get serious injuries in the clinic. The people of Gladium still prefer the larger hospitals for such injuries. But even those that come in with heavy bleeding, you must understand that an Icewing healer is not a surgeon. There is no need for protective wear.”

Our clan had kept our ability to heal a secret for a long time. And while the fact that we were open to human patients was still rather unknown, the secret was slowly leaking out about our extraordinary gifts. It wasn’t that we were trying to be mysterious. Only, we knew that our supernatural healing ability would not be accepted by everyone, and it was better to be as quiet as possible not to draw unwanted attention.

“I suppose the idea is just so foreign from what I know,” he admitted.

“I understand.”

A pretty brunette stepped up to the table. “Hi, how are you?” she greeted robotically till her gaze landed on Demetrius. She did a double-take then pulled out her comm tablet. “Um, may I get you something to drink?” Her stylus trembled in her hand as she smiled brightly.

“Berry tea, please,” I said.

“Water is fine.”

She tapped on her comm and said, “I’ll just give you a few minutes to look at the menu.” Then she vanished behind the deli bar in a flash.

“Does that always happen to you?” I asked. “Everywhere you go?”

He picked up the menu and opened it. “What’s that?”

I did the same but scoffed. “For a smart man, you seem to be unaware of your surroundings.”

He paused, a familiar frown pinching his brow as he glanced around the room. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the poor waitress. You nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Me? What did I do?”

I laughed. “You cannot be so oblivious to your effect on women.”

Why did I say that? Now he was honing in on me with that heavy stare.

“What effect might that be?” he asked casually, while his gaze was anything but casual.

“I think you’re playing dumb, but since you’re being persistently ignorant about it, that waitress just about died when she saw who you were.”

He laughed. “That? It’s nothing. It’s just because of my family name. And yes, I get that reaction from time to time.”

“It’s not because of your family name,” I mumbled behind my menu.

That was a mistake. He stretched an arm across the table and flattened my menu on the table. “So what is it?”

“I think you know.”

“I thought I did, but you’re saying I’m wrong. Speak up.”

Wondering why I’d opened my big mouth, I shrugged with a nervous laugh. Not answering would be rude, but I couldn’t think up anything to say other than the truth. It was just stuck in my throat.

His expression darkened. “I can’t separate myself from my name or my money, and I know what most people think of both. If it bothers you so much, I’m not sure why you decided to come to lunch with me.”

How did this turn so bad so fast? He truly didn’t know. Time to enlighten Mr. Demetrius Cade.

“It’s not your name or your money. Well, maybe it is, but it’s more than that.”

He arched a dark brow and waited.

“It’s all of you. You’re rather…intriguing. And sort of, well, handsome.”

Clearing my throat, I went back to perusing for what I wanted to order. He made absolutely no reply, which made me more anxious than if he’d teased me for it. “And how were you so sure I’d be free for lunch?” I asked, distracting him from the other point of the conversation.

“I wasn’t.”

“How did you know I’d even join you if I was free?”

“I didn’t.”

“What if I was unavailable?”

“Then I suppose I would’ve dined alone.” He leveled his dark eyes at me. “But I’m glad you did come.”

This is not a date.

“And, how about you, Shakara?”

“How about me, what?”

“Do you find me intriguing? Handsome?” he asked, wiggling his way back to the conversation I was trying to leave behind.

I busied myself unfolding my napkin. “I suppose you didn’t notice those two boutique girls at Julian’s party. The ones ogling you without shame.”

He shook his head, saying nothing, just observing in that extremely uncomfortable way of his.

I tried to focus on the lunch specials to make a decision and was having a damned hard time at that. Demetrius had gone silent again. I stole a glance to find him staring at me. My heart lurched. The way he used those dark eyes sent a tingle down my back and straight to my wings. It was like he had a direct line to my inner dragon. She liked him. And that made it hard for me to determine whether he was the pretentious jerk all the papers proclaimed him to be or whether he was actually the caring but sometimes overbearing guy Jessen had claimed he was.

“What?” I asked.

“So you noticed these other women noticing me?”

I shrugged. “It was kind of hard not to. They couldn’t shut up about the
gorgeous
Demetrius Cade. And you nearly made my poor receptionist faint. You really didn’t notice?”

A half-smile tilted his lovely lips in a way that made me want to behave as badly as Carra. I refused to do so.

“I can’t believe you don’t see it,” I said casually.

“I suppose it’s just that I’m not very attuned to a room full of people. I tend to focus on whatever is on my mind, even when in the company of larger groups.”

“And what held your attention so well this morning that you didn’t notice Carra falling all over herself when the most
eligible bachelor
in Gladium strode into our lobby?”