Plight of the Dragon (11 page)

And then the Ferris wheel was a mere bleep in the distance, and Sebastian was rushing down Mystic’s Magical Market lane. Fortunetellers of every type lined the sides. She knew the place well, having come here many times to visit Sebastian at his little trailer of tarot cards.
 

“Talia,” Sebastian called out when he was nearing the witch’s den of crystal ball gazing. “Are you there, Talia? We need your help.” He shifted Kyra in his arms.

“I can walk,” she said in a small voice.
 

“Maybe so, but you don’t have to.” Sebastian glanced at her and smiled. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, nor light up his face, as she knew his heartfelt smiles could. A dark fog misted through her chest, and her chilled bones iced. She tightened her clasp around his neck to fight the dread overtaking her soul.

Garnished with countless strings of colorful buttons, charms, and trinkets, the entrance to Talia’s tent was both eccentric and mysterious. The design encouraged further exploration. When they were only steps away, the drapery pulled back, exposing a portal into a delightfully unexpected space. Not that it was truly a portal, as in a magical door, but what lay beyond the entrance was enchantingly otherworldly. Talia, the young witch, stood at the edge of the entrance, holding the fabric out of the way. Sebastian slipped into the tent and turned around.
 

Kyra had passed by Talia’s tent on several occasions, but had never bothered to go inside. A miraculous and surreal world of magic lived inside the tent walls. Once they walked through the door, the ceiling seemed to evaporate, leaving only the night sky, complete with twinkling stars, above their heads.
 

The sidewalls were no different, appearing as a forest one could wander into and get lost. At the far corner of the tent, rocketing fireworks lit up the sky. They were subdued, yet completely perfect in the meager, wonderlit arena. Kyra assumed the celebration display was designed to coordinate with the Mystic’s Jubilee, but she couldn’t be certain. Maybe it was always like this.
 

In the center of the space, which resembled a small grass clearing in the middle of the whimsical tent forest, sat a small collection of wooden chairs gathered unevenly around a purple velvet-covered table with a large crystal ball in the middle. Kyra knew everything around her, aside from the table and chairs, was an illusion. Logic reminded her they weren’t in the middle of any forest but were actually standing somewhere in the middle of Mystic’s Carnival. For such a small and young witch, the magic was supreme.
 

“What’s going on?” Talia asked, letting the colorful bangles at the door drop back into place.

“Kyra is freezing. We need to reunite her with her dragon as soon as possible.” Sebastian paused and glanced to the chairs by the table. Using his foot, he scooted one away from the table.

“Not there,” Talia interrupted and pointed toward the back of the tent. “Through there.”

Sebastian walked into the tree line, and for the briefest of moments, they were standing in the forest, mammoth redwoods stretching as far as the eye could see—and then they weren’t. They had entered a backroom. A room hidden from Talia’s clientele. Against one striped tent wall was an unremarkable bed and a rack filled with clothing and costumes. On the other side of the room, behind a shimmering, sheer curtain, were bottles and boxes of various colors and sizes. Some were stacked on a table or stool, others hung from the ceiling in a cluster of designs: spirals, pyramids, and extended drops of baskets.
 

“Over there.” Talia pointed to the bed. Sebastian promptly set Kyra on the mattress, pulling the blanket up around her. It resembled a story blanket, likely Talia’s story. Square after square of stitched pictures depicting things Kyra only half recognized.
 

“Thank you,” Kyra said, hugging the blanket snuggly around her body. Sebastian sat on the bed beside her and attempted to rub warmth back into her.
 

In quick movements, Talia threw back the shimmery curtain and began grabbing at bottles. “You want me to mix something up that will help keep her warm, right?”

“If you can, yes.” Sebastian stood and took a step in Talia’s direction.

“It’s okay. Stay with her,” Talia said, and Sebastian returned to the bed. “I think I can whip something up for you.” Between pouring ingredients in a beaker and snagging boxes and bottles from her assortment, Talia glanced back at them. “Do you know how you’re going to return her dragon?”

Sebastian gazed off to the side. “I think so. Zeke helped me in that area.”

Talia nodded and turned back to her work. A whirlwind of thoughts and emotions buried Kyra. Her insides burned from the cold, and her heart dropped into her gut. Was it her imagination or were both Sebastian and Talia avoiding eye contact with her?
 

She clutched at Sebastian’s arm. “How will it be done?”
 

He leaned in close and spoke softly. “Right now, you just focus on finding your heat and let the rest of us worry about dragon details.”

Kyra’s brow wrinkled. “Kalrapura is part of me. I need to be involved in those details.” She chanced a glance at Talia, saw her quickly look away.
 

Sebastian frowned and regarded Kyra. “If you don’t take care of you first, there might not be anything for Kalrapura to return to.”

Kyra wrinkled her nose then sneezed. Across the room, pops and fizzes hissed at Talia’s fingertips, her work moving swiftly and reminding Kyra of a mad scientist. From what Kyra could tell, Sebastian was avoiding her, and in so doing, directing all his attention on the magic being created on the other side of the room. “How long will this take?” he asked Talia.

“Not long.” She turned to face them, beaker held firmly in her hands. “To create heat, I’ll need to include an element of fire. I’m stepping out back for a few minutes to properly encompass the needed flame.”
 

“Should we come with?” Sebastian shifted, as if preparing to get up and go.

She waved him to wait. “You two stay here. I won’t be long.” Her gaze shifted to Sebastian. “Keep her warm by any means necessary.” She glanced back at Kyra. “She’s starting to turn a little blue.” With that, Talia left, disappearing out the back door.

In an instant, Sebastian was off the bed and kneeling in front of Kyra. He held her shoulders and studied her. She tried her damnedest not to appear or act as if she were freezing, but her teeth chattered rebelliously. “How bad is it?” he asked.

“Na-na-not ba-ba-bad.” Kyra clutched the blanket around her with a white-knuckled grip.

Deep shadows filled Sebastian’s eyes. An intense worry line creased his forehead. “You really are one of the worst liars I’ve ever come across.”
 

Every time he’d called her a horrible liar, the delivery was accompanied with a snarky smile. Not this time. This time, he appeared particularly dismal. Kyra bit her lip to hide the chatter, biting too hard into the skin with the shaking. The bitter taste of copper filled her mouth.

“Kyra,” he whispered, wiping the blood from her lower lip with a gentle brush of his thumb. He didn’t take his gaze off her, but continued to stare profoundly into her eyes. She saw war and conflict, sorrow and regret, and she would bet her life she also saw love. She wanted to kiss him. Her teeth chattered.

His dark pits of conflict and contemplation seemed to turn into resolve, and Sebastian pulled off his shirt and slipped under the blanket with Kyra, pressing his warm body to her skin. Together, they lay against the mattress, Kyra nestling against him, her back to his chest, her body perfectly complementing his curve. His fire melted her ice, the thawing sending her heart to accelerate, blood to race, and a kindling to take hold within her core. She couldn’t recall anything ever feeling so right. So meant-to-be. She flipped around to face him, her hands held to her chest as a barrier, and caught him off guard. For a nanosecond, his gaze had been dreamy, wistful. Now there was surprise clouding out everything else.
 

“You saved me, once again,” Kyra said.

A humored smile almost lit up his face. “Not me. Kalrapura. Her fire is incinerating my organs.”

Kyra laughed in spite of the implication. Something whispered in her ear that Sebastian could handle the heat. His office was in Hell, after all. “Regardless, she couldn’t have done it without you.” A silence fell between them, and it wasn’t the comfortable silence they’d so often had in the past. This time was different. It was awkward and strange. Kyra wanted to burn it away, but she couldn’t. She would need Sebastian’s help to make that happen. “I can’t imagine my life without you, Sebastian. I need you by my side.” Her hands slid up and caressed the side of his face.

“I. Kyra…”

“Shhh.” She softly placed her finger over his lips. “I love you. Understand?” Almost absentmindedly, she traced his lips with her finger and felt his body respond. Her thoughts toiled between the bravery of pushing Sebastian into seeing what they could be together, and fear of pushing him deeper into whatever hole he was digging to escape her. The most consuming thought—simply him. Wanting and needing and touching Sebastian. His strong body against hers, his breath on her face. Clarity of thought was impossible. “Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll stop.” Her mouth found the small space below his ear, his cheek, his jawline. His skin tasted salty-sweet, grit and greed, everything she desired. His eyes closed, and he made a sound she’d not heard before. A shiver ran through her, like a diving dragon, down below her belly. Her lips craved the taste of him, her body, the touch of him.

“I think this should do the job,” Talia said, coming in through the back door.

Sebastian was up and out of the bed, slipping on his tattered shirt, before Kyra could blink. She turned around and pulled the blanket tight around her again. It was a shoddy substitute for Sebastian. She stared at him, and her teeth began to chatter. In those moments since Talia had stepped out back to create magic, Kyra had believed she was making a little magic of her own. And it might have succeeded, with a little more time. It seemed like he’d been responding. Now he was putting distance and barriers between them like a damn impossible carnival game.
 

“Did I interrupt something?” Talia asked, glancing between Sebastian and Kyra.

“No,” Sebastian said at the same time Kyra said yes.
 

Talia’s eyes widened before fixing her gaze on Sebastian. Kyra bit her lip and sighed, sinking deeper into the blanket and bed. Talia had definitely interrupted, but Kyra wasn’t going to be the one to say so.
 

“No,” Sebastian reaffirmed.
 

“Alrighty then,” Talia said, obvious disbelief on her face, then walked over and handed Kyra a small vial. “Drink this and give it a couple minutes. You should feel your body temperature even out.”

Kyra took the tiny bottle of glass and studied the liquid sloshing around inside. Orange with a swirl of red and murky clouds of blue—it didn’t sing
drink me
, more like
toss me out
. Nor did it appear particularly significant. Burning one last gaze at Sebastian, Kyra downed the liquid, then gagged. It tasted like shit. “Gross.”
 

“Sorry.” Talia took the vial from Kyra’s hand. “Not a lot I can do about the taste.”

“Next time try adding vanilla,” Kyra said, her lips curled into a snarl.

Sebastian plunged his hands into his pockets, his posture reeking of discomfort and need. Awkwardly, he leaned toward Talia. “Got anything for me?”

“As in what, exactly?” She regarded him with a shift in her eye that could only be disapproval.

“You know, the stuff that helps with the…” He pointed to his head.

Talia’s chest rose and fell. “I think it’s time you learned to deal with your talents, rather than stifle them. Don’t you agree?”
 

His face hardened like that of an overworked and underpaid ride operator, yet he didn’t argue. He merely looked away.
 

“Can you give us a few minutes?” Sebastian’s tone was grimly grave. Kyra’s heart, which had been hanging on to tether lines, plummeted to the safety netting in her gut.
 

“Sure,” Talia said, with a hunch of her shoulders. Kyra couldn’t blame her for how fast she disappeared. No one likes to witness uncomfortable situations, and Kyra sensed a big one coming on now.
 

“Before you say something you’ll regret later—” Kyra started and was interrupted.

“Is it working?” Sebastian gazed over her from head to toe. Kyra stared back at him with a blank expression. “The potion, is it working?”

She jerked. “Oh. Not yet.”
 

Silent fell over the room, Kyra’s lecturing roll having lost its steam. There was nothing she wanted to ogle more than Sebastian, yet right now, she couldn’t bring herself to, so fearful of what she’d see in his eyes. Instead, she stared at his feet, memorizing the scuff across his left boot and the wear on the side buckles.
 

It began with a tiny pinprick of a spark in her chest. The smallest of heat sources. Then spread along her veins to her entire system, like a blossoming flower. Kyra wasn’t on fire, but she wasn’t cold anymore. She was simply comfortable.
 

“Listen.” Sebastian began to pace the room.
 

Okay, maybe she was cold, after all. Kyra hugged herself and pulled her knees into her chest.
 

“I will admit, you are a beautiful distraction, and we did well at the friend thing.”

Friend thing?
Kyra shifted on the bed and narrowed her gaze.
 

He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m becoming a full Grim now. I’ll be busy, too busy, really. And I don’t have time for any of this.” He waved his hand around to imply, not just Kyra, but the entire carnival. “We’ll just hold each other back. And you don’t want that, do you?” He stopped pacing and locked stares with her. “You don’t want to hold me back, do you?”