Never Deal with Dragons (24 page)

“Whoo!” I tilted my head back, wondering why the stars were spinning like a sink full of dishwater. “Trian, this upside down flying is a
wwwweeesooome
!”

One of his golden eyes rotated in my direction. “I’m not flying upside down. Myrna, stop doing that. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“Does it always feel so...dizzy?” I held my hand an inch in front of my eyes, laughing when I counted seven fingers.

I thought I heard him snort. “No. I’m pretty sure the dizzy is from the pain meds.”

I pushed my nose, hard. It felt bigger than my entire face. I crossed my eyes to check.

Nope. It was the same size as usual.

“My leg doesn’t hurt anymore. That mean ole dragon can’t make me cry.” I broke into an impromptu song, complete with hand motions. I stopped when I tried to wiggle my hips to the beat. Even these meds couldn’t get rid of all the pain. My mind flashed back to the dragon in my suite.

“I whacked him. Did I tell you? Right here, behind the head like you told me too.” Something hit my chin, and it took me a couple of seconds to realize it was my own hand. Dumbfounded, I stared down at the offending digits. The lined gloves Trian gave me were possessed.

“You did really good.” Trian’s voice sounded weird.

I stared at the back of his head suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Of course not.”

Satisfied, I resumed the study of my hands. The extra fingers had disappeared, absorbed by the mischievous leather. “Carol’s not laughing.” The thought popped from my hazy mind unbidden and spoiled my drug-induced good mood.

With Lord Relobu’s people in danger, we’d left before I got a chance to make sure she was okay. Richard’s actions still had me in shock; I could only imagine how Carol felt.

“What will happen to him?”

Trian didn’t pretend to misunderstand the direction of my thoughts. “I’m not sure. Dragon law would require a traitor to be put to death. Since he’s human, it will depend on whether the human courts want to claim jurisdiction.”

“They won’t.” Our justice system was still regaining its footing after the war. With so many records lost to fire and hard drive failure, the human courts were missing years’ worth of case law. They had no desire to take on the murky area of human and dragon relations. Not to mention DRACIM would need five times the number of dragonspeakers to cover the increased demand.

Normally, DRACIM would be asked to arbitrate in a matter such as this, but I couldn’t see Lord Relobu asking for a recommendation from a group whose member—proven or not—currently played a hand in the crime. Odds were, Richard would be quietly tried by a group of Lord Relobu’s dragons. He had almost no chance of coming out of the proceedings alive.

Poor, poor Carol.

I spent the rest of the flight staring at the stars, wondering at what point everything had gone wrong.

Chapter Nineteen

My return to DRACIM was a little surreal. We’d reached the offices slightly after nine in the morning, and when I limped through the front door, it was as if I’d never left. The room buzzed with the usual sounds of controlled hysteria. I heard my old office-mate, Melissa, yell for someone to bring her a fresh set of towels to the main conference room while a frazzled intern sobbed against the reception room wall.

Yep. It was a normal Monday.

I’d left Trian near the hog corrals in case he needed a quick meal and some privacy to morph back to his human form before joining me inside. I rubbed my hip absently, grateful that the drugs had worn off so my mind would work, but disappointed that the pain was still so sharp. Sitting in a saddle for hours hadn’t helped my injury.

Emory was in his office this morning; I’d called an old friend to confirm before we arrived. I had to laugh. Of course he’d assume his position would keep him safe from anything. I felt a grim satisfaction at my ability to correctly anticipate Emory’s behavior. I guess my years of servitude were finally paying off.

The little turd.

As I made my way through the main reparations department, the workroom slowly quieted, and heads swiveled in my direction.

I’d been noticed. And based on the speculative looks, I could tell news of last night’s events had already made it back to Tulsa.

Waving to a couple of my friends, I headed straight for Emory’s office. I didn’t want to risk the chance that someone would warn my former boss I was coming. Knowing Emory, he’d try and sneak out the backdoor. I was tempted to let him. I’d pay a lot of money to see Trian eat him as soon as he stepped into the sun.

Emory’s new secretary wouldn’t have even noticed me if I hadn’t accidentally paused. It wasn’t my fault; my old desk was buried so far under paperwork the only thing visible was the dry erase board hanging from the cube wall. My fingers itched to organize the heap into easily filed batches.

By the time I regained my sanity and forward momentum, she’d hopped up from her seat and rounded the desk.

“Myrna. Myrna!” Her sedate walk morphed into a hopping run as she struggled to reach me. It seems I wasn’t the only one who was learning the perils of pencil skirts. You never knew when you’d need full range of motion to dodge dragon puke or stop unexpected visitors. Her expression was embarrassed and apologetic. “Do you have an appointment? I’m sorry, but Emory told me not to let anyone in without a prior appointment.”

I was slightly impressed. Somehow she’d managed to get between me and the door. I was forced to stop or flatten the poor girl. “Of course.” I checked my watch discretely. “A nine-fifteen.”

Sara might suck at paperwork, but I had to give her credit for courage. When I tried to slip by, she angled her body to block me and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m afraid you’ll need to wait here while I confirm that. Sorry, Myrna.”

I sucked in a breath, ready to tell her Emory would see me or risk having DRACIM firebombed by Lord Relobu’s army. But her eyes widened at the sight of something just above my head.

“I suggest you allow her to pass.” The voice was a low rumble that echoed off the stone walls.

I smiled and tipped my head back. “You just had to make an entrance, didn’t you?”

Trian gave me a toothy grin and laughed. His gravelly chuckle shivered across my skin.

“Decided you liked the skin you’re in, huh?”

“I thought it might come in handy just in case they’d misplaced our appointment request.”

The only noise in the workroom was a ringing phone. Not one person tried to answer it. They were all staring in awe at the black dragon in their midst. I heard the whir and click of a camera as someone snapped a shot of Trian.

I faced Emory’s new assistant. “As you can see, we’re here on official business. Please feel free to contact Lord Relobu with any questions.”

Without another word, the girl nodded and walked back to her desk.

I turned to Trian. “Can you give me just a second alone with him?”

Trian frowned. “Yes. But why?”

“I just...” How could I explain? Since the beginning, nothing had gone according to plan. The world had fallen to pieces since the last time I’d slept. I didn’t dismantle the bomb, Richard was as good as dead, and my best friend’s heart was about to be broken as soon as she found out her boyfriend couldn’t come back home with her because he was on the run from every dragon on the planet. “I just want some time to see if I can change his mind.”

The great black dragon studied my face intently. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

Emory was eating a sandwich when I walked in. A huge sandwich, loaded with every meat in the known universe.

“I guess the vegetarian thing blew over?” He jumped at the sound of my voice.

“Where’s the machine?” I settled myself into the chair opposite his desk.

Emory moved the sandwich aside and flipped through some papers. “What machine? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His attempt at nonchalance was pretty good, except for the way his fingers trembled as he straightened his desk.

“Emory. Look at me.” He raised his head, and I studied the corner of his left eye. It twitched, just like it did every single time he’d told his wife over the phone that the tofu surprise was delicious.

“You’re lying.” Despite our frequent squabbles, Emory and I had worked together for a long time. After Richard’s betrayal, I’d really hoped my former boss would turn out to be innocent. But that had been too much to hope for.

I could almost hear his teeth as he ground them together. He tried to hustle me out of his office. “Myrna, I don’t have time for this.”

He jumped when I slapped an open palm on the surface of his desk. “This is not a joke, Emory. And I’m not your assistant anymore. You can’t make me, and your problems, leave this room by pretending you’re too busy to face them. That machine has the capacity to kill this city’s entire dragon population.”

I waited for a reaction, but he didn’t even attempt an explanation.

And I realized that’s what really bothered me about this situation. He might be self-centered, he might hate dragons, but Emory never did things without thinking them through.

“I just don’t understand, Emory. Without dragons, you’re out of a job. We all are. How would this be good for you?”

He must have given up on playing stupid, because he sighed and settled back into his chair. “Myrna, think about it. Since dragons were first discovered, they’ve been the ones dictating humanity’s every move. Sure, they give us money if we complain loud enough, but when you look at the situation without the rose-colored glasses, they’re still in control. Our history, our economy, our governments—they’re all in the hands of dragons.”

I shook my head. “That’s not true, Emory. Lord Relobu is very careful to stay out of human affairs.” I didn’t tell him Lord Relobu was also doing his best to expand human rights. It wasn’t my story to tell.

“But what happens when Relobu changes his mind? Or passes the leadership to someone with less respect for our autonomy? How can we fight back? The majority of our weapons are useless. We have no recourse. Don’t you see? This machine is our insurance. Once they see what we’re capable of, their power over our lives will be gone. Humans everywhere will thank me for what I’ve done for them.”

And there was the truth. Emory craved respect. And although pretending to be a dragonspeaker gave him the income he needed to live well, it also shut the doors to a lot of places. Politicians invited DRACIM officials to their event, but they kept us at arm’s length, uncertain of our true loyalties.

They were friendly with dragons when they had to be. To the outside world, dragonspeakers were always batting for the other team. To keep his job, Emory had to claim dragonspeaker status. But he couldn’t stand to be treated as an outsider.

“It won’t work, you know.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What makes you say that?”

“Even if you do manage to step up and force the dragons to treat us as equals, what makes you think you’d live long enough to get the glory for it? What’s to keep Relobu—or his replacement—from sending some random human to off you?”

Emory laughed. “It wouldn’t happen. There’s not a person on the planet who would be willing to kill for a dragon if they were given an actual choice.”

“Even if they were offered money?”

“I’d offer them more. I can name at least ten people off the top of my head who would pay, and pay dearly, for the schematics of a proven dragon-killing machine. And after all the dragons are dead, the danger is over. I retire with all the money I’ll ever need, and the world is freed from the oppression of the dragon race.”

I shook my head. “Emory, I always knew you were self-centered, but I never thought you’d sink to murder.”

“It’s not murder, Myrna. They’re animals created in a lab for the benefit of the human race. And the period of their usefulness is over. I’m simply completing the job Dr. Smith’s team should have taken care of in the first place. Disposing of the waste.”

I looked him straight in the eyes, praying I’d see even a small glimmer of doubt. But it was no use. The hope of persuading him to change his mind was gone. “Where’s the machine?”

Emory smirked. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

I stared at him, trying to think like Emory would.

He’d never leave it at his home. His wife’s constant snooping for proof he’d cheated on their latest diet had broken him of that habit long ago. And as far as I knew, Emory’s only hobby was golf. I couldn’t see him trusting a gym locker. Or leaving it outside for the weather to eat away at it.

It had to be here. In his office. I stood up, leaned over the desk and yanked out the top drawer.

“What are you doing!” Emory sent his office chair rolling back as pencils and paper clips went flying.

I ignored him and yanked on the second handle. It was stuck. Gasping at the pain in my side, I hopped over the desk to find a better angle. With two hands, I was able to jerk it free. Packaged cupcakes hit the floor along with a bag of Twizzlers.

Emory grabbed my arm. “Stop this! Now. I’ll call security.”

I glared at his flushed face. “Tell me, Emory! Where is the machine?”

“It’s not here. I swear.” His eyes twitched downward.

I followed his gaze to the backpack lying at our feet. Emory never carried a backpack.

Snatching one of the straps, I yanked the bag up and over my arm. I’d made it halfway around the desk before Emory recovered enough to catch me.

“Give me the bag!” I felt my shoulder pop as he tried to wrestle it from my grip. His pulling knocked me off balance, and I flew backward. The bag hit the floor with a loud clank. A moment later, I heard a small pop then a hiss.

Horrified, my gaze met Emory’s. His shocked expression slowly morphed into a wry grin. “Oops. Looks like you’ll be the one who makes the news today.”

But I’d already forgotten Emory. My mind went blank when I realized what I’d done.

And who was in the building with me.

“Oh my God!”

I dashed to the supply cabinet and threw open the doors, tossing towels and water hoses everywhere until I located the small stack of plastic garbage bags. Armed with the bag and a roll of duct tape, I tossed the backpack inside the garbage bag and sealed the top with tape.

With tears streaming down my face, I repeated the process until I’d used all the plastic bags. Knowing it was probably useless, I grabbed the towels and ran to the door, trying to cover the small strip of space between the door and the floor.

Then I slumped against the wall.

What had I done? I had no idea how fast the biomaterial spread once it was released.

“Sit down!” I screamed as Emory attempted to leave his chair.

Emory sputtered in anger. “How dare you—”

I shot up from the wall and stalked toward him, the pain in my hip forgotten. With both hands square on his chest, I shoved, forcing him back into the seat. “You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

His jaw dropped in shock at my tone. In all my years of working in his office, I’d never, ever raised my voice in anger. Back then, I’d always been afraid it would cost me my job. But now I didn’t work for Emory, and it was entirely possible he’d just helped me kill the man I loved.

It wouldn’t take much for me to kill Emory too, and I think he knew it.

He slid silently back into his chair.

I snatched the handset of Emory’s phone and dialed. “Melissa?...Yes, it’s Myrna. I need you to call a cleanup team to Emory’s office immediately. Level 5 Bio. And please—” My voice cracked, and I had to swallow before I could continue, “—there’s a black dragon just outside the door. Could you send a medical team to check on him? Call me here as soon as they know something. Thank you.”

Ignoring Emory, I dialed a second number. Richard was gone, but I prayed his secretary could locate someone with the ability to organize an evacuation. My mind was whirling. During the conversation with Dr. Renault, I hadn’t really paid much attention to the specifics of how the biomaterial spread. I’m been more concerned with absorbing his instructions on how to disarm the device holding.

Bill listened to my explanation without comment, and then assured me he would make the necessary arrangements. News of Richard’s actions must have reached Relobu’s household, because his last words before disconnecting had been a solemn promise that he could be trusted.

With no choice but to believe him, I said a quick thank you and hung up the phone. With my arms spread wide, I leaned over the desk and willed the phone to ring with news that Trian was okay.

“Who is the dragon?”

“Why do you care?”

I leaned down until my face was inches from his. “If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be let in the doors of an organization like DRACIM, much less be allowed to work here.”

The door opened and a team entered dressed in HazMat suits. I pointed to the backpack. “The biomaterial is in there. I don’t know the specifics, but it should be harmless to humans. But it’s deadly to dragons. I need you to set up a containment area around this room.”