Dragonproof

Chapter 12

By Dabeagle

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The hackles on the back of my neck went up. “Why would you think that?” I asked calmly.

His robe shifted subtly, and the barrel of a gun appeared. “How about we go find out?” he asked. He waved the barrel. “Leave the staff.”

I held one hand up and made to lay my staff down, but I knew what happened when I cast in desperation without it. As I set it on the pew, I threw up a shield and pushed it forward, knocking the man dressed as a priest back. The gun fired, the bullet pinging off into the cavernous interior. With a quick word, a solid chuck of air hit our attacker in the shins. He stumbled, arms pinwheeling, and then he screamed as Char unleashed her own attack, albeit uncontrolled and unfocused. I felt pressure in my skull building as the pew to the right of the priest shattered; it was all I could do to duck as splinters flew through the air.

The attacker was clearly staggered, but even I was surprised when Connor barreled into him, looking to grab the attacker’s gun hand. I took a quick, centering breath and muttered the trigger for my sleep spell, and our attacker went limp. Beside me I felt Char winding up, and I held a hand out.

“Don't. He's not getting up.” I let out a few breaths. “We need to work on your control. You need a focus.”

“That was what my stone was for, I guess,” she said, frowning. “I felt like I had more control with it. That was part of the reason I didn't want to put it back.”

“Yeah. It was enchanted, so it had a resonance you could use.” I glanced over to the other side, thinking Britney would be gone, but no. She was standing still, looking at us. I glanced at Connor, who was looking confused at the sleeping priest, but he'd wisely kicked the gun away and was back on his feet. I stepped out into the aisle and walked toward her, keeping my hands up – even though I had my staff in one hand.

“You're here because of me. Aren't you?” Her voice had a tremor, but she stood still.

“You have a dangerous object,” I said. “It's hurting people.”

She frowned. “An object? You mean...what do you mean? I had a...last night-”

“You had a manifestation last night,” I said quickly. “It's coming from the stone you bought at the antique shop downtown.”

“Hi, Britney,” Connor said, popping up. “I sold you the stone necklace. Do you remember me?”

Her expression shifted from confusion to a frown and back to confusion. “The necklace? This thing?” She looked down doubtfully, pulling the stone from inside her shirt.

Connor approached her. “Yeah. It's got some bad karma on it,” he said. Hey, as explanations went, it was as good as anything.

“I don't understand,” she said. “That...thing last night. I had been writing about it, and then...and then it was just there. On my chest. Then. Then this...splat. There was this...scream and there was, like, snot everywhere.” She looked back and forth between us. “I thought that...thing was from my book. But why? I came here to be safe, in case it happened again, but why?”

“Long story, but-”

“But I'm afraid we don't have time for it now.”

The voice stopped me cold. As I turned my fingers felt like they were being crushed, but I'd felt that tactic before. I grabbed my staff with my other hand and planted it before me, casting a cantrip to undo the spell that was causing my hand muscles to cramp like they did it once a month.

My parents floated down from the balcony at the back of the church, where the organ and audio equipment was likely kept. They landed gently, no doubt looking to make a 'cool villain' entrance and awe us a bit. I don't mind admitting every muscle in my body was tense.

“Well. Look at you!” my father said, opening his arms and smiling at me as if with pride. “On your own and quite strong, I see.”

I moved my arm out to push Connor somewhat behind me, fully intending to tell him to run as soon as possible. “How did you find me?”

My mother smiled, walking to my left as my father side-stepped to the right. “It wasn't easy, I can tell you that much,” she said, again almost sounding like she was proud. “But your father and I were very determined. We're so close to where we want to be, but you owe us a bit, don't you, son?”

I stepped back into Connor, trying to keep myself between them and him. “Owe you?” I spat.

It happened so fast, that's really all that I can say to describe the next twenty seconds or so. In my shock at seeing my parents, I'd forgotten about Char. I was reminded when she tried to channel up something to attack my father, maybe as a distraction, with no idea how out of her depth she was. I felt her start to channel, I saw my father flick his wrist, and her cast was extinguished like snuffing out a candle. Another quick movement and Char was in his grasp – and she screamed. Her mouth was wide, and her body lit up as if fire were straining to get out of her.

I lifted my staff to cast, but a bolt of pain hit my hand again, and I nearly dropped it. By the time I'd settled my shielding, it was over. My father had harvested Char. As he released her, she fell lifelessly to the ground.

“You sick-” I never finished. What happened next was messy and painful. It was all I could do, trying to deflect attacks from one side when the other slipped closer. They continued moving to either side, forcing me to retreat, and all I could do as they chipped away at my strength was try to protect Connor and myself. My mother made probing, delicate attacks to determine the strength of my ability to block magical attack, while my father went the way of brute force. Much like the bullets I'd fended off so many weeks ago, their attacks were draining my strength.

I'll never know what she was thinking, but with Connor and me backed up to the alter, Britney suddenly started running toward us. I don't think it was to us per se, but more toward the altar and her perception of it as safe – or maybe there were doors where the priest or altar boys kept things. I don't know. All I can do is guess.

One minute she was running, and the next she was screaming as she was engulfed in fire.

“No!” I gasped and tried to counter the flames. As I did, my father landed yet another of his brute force attacks, and my staff shattered. My hand screamed in pain as wood poked through the skin, splinters went flying past me, into me, and the head of the staff passed through part of Britney's charring corpse, the odor of the melting body overwhelming all other senses besides pain.

I tried to straighten, to focus on not worrying about what I couldn't change or process in the moment. Cradling my mangled hand, I tried to find a way forward with power and numbers against me. I was going to need to cast what I had left with no focus, and that was bad. Terrible. I had to get Connor out.

I turned, and he was holding his hand out for me. I must have shifted away, somehow, when Britney had died, Maybe I moved when I tried – failed – to help her. To save her.

“You had one. I get first crack at him,” my mother said and crossed her hands one over the other. A gout of flame rushed from her hands, and I tried to cast my shield, willing to accept the risk of casting so large without a focus – but it felt like a brick hit me on the back of the head, and I dropped to the hard stone floor. I was seeing double, and I could feel the blood between my fingertips as I instinctively grabbed the back of my head.

I turned where her flame had been pointed and saw Connor in flames, screaming and slapping at himself. I tried to pull on my anger, my fear and my love for him to power a spell – anything – to try and help, but once more I felt the weight of an attack from my father hit me in the back, and I was down on the floor, face down beside what was left of Britney – the stone lying on the floor, broken free of its melted setting.

“I have to admit, that was fun!” my mother said, walking into my field of vision.

“I thought he'd be a bit stronger,” my father commented. “Though the girl was an added bonus.”

I felt like I was disconnected from the world around me. I hurt all over, but it was distant. Everything had turned to dust in less than ten minutes. My mind was nearing the edge of oblivion – Char, gone. Britney, who just had the bad fortune to buy something magical, gone. Connor....

There was an increase in the light level for just a moment,and then the heavy sound of wooden doors closing. I heard rather than saw my parents turning on their heels. Heavy footsteps echoed in the cavernous space. Thoughts began skittering through my mind. Everything may be lost, including me, but I may still be able to prevent my parents escaping this abattoir. I shifted my head slightly, just to gauge where my parents were and be sure that their focus wasn't on me. Satisfied that they were watching whomever was approaching, I shifted my arm – wincing in pain as I did – and settled my fingers around the small memory stone.

“I trust our bargain is fulfilled?”

No. That voice.

“It was a bit messy, but altogether easier than anticipated,” my father said smoothly.

There was a beat of silence and then another. “Then I deem the bargain fulfilled.” I shifted my gaze without moving my head and took in Tyrathaxion, smoke leaking from his nostrils and power rolling off him in waves. My parents were probably wondering if there was any way they could harvest the dragon, or at least I hoped they were, because I was going to try one more thing.

Working magic without a focus is dangerous; I think I've made that clear. The stone, though unfamiliar to me, could act in that capacity. But deflecting my father's blows while also defending from my mother had drained my energy to a mere trickle. Tapping into whatever was in the stone would be dicey at best – and if I was lucky, catastrophic. The key was in using it as a focus to be subtle while-

“What's this now?” Tyrathaxion popped my hand open by stepping on my wrist and plucked the stone from my hand. “Ah. These troublesome things.”

“I sense some small degree of power within,” my mother said, an edge to her voice.

“Yes. An interesting line of knowledge that had been pursued,” Tyrathaxion said quietly. I looked up into his eyes, hatred and defeat flowing from my eyes.

But then...he winked?

“I'm afraid it'll be getting late, now,” Tyrathaxion said quietly, his voice somehow filling the space. “It's time for you to depart.”

“We haven't harvested yet,” my father said, a dangerous tone to his voice.

“Harvesting?” Tyrathaxion turned toward them. “That won't be happening.”

“We had a bargain, Dragon,” my mother said in a low tone, and she and my father began moving to either side, just as they had with me.

“A bargain to locate and deliver your son, yes,” Tyrathaxion said. “I never agreed to harvesting. Additionally, I claim master's rights over my apprentice – and my son.”

My parents didn't break stride at all. I'm sure talking was only a delay tactic at this stage, to them, but I struggled to understand Tyrathaxion's words.

“Nico is our child. Our property,” my father said coolly.

“He's an adult who has entered into an apprenticeship,” Tyrathaxion replied calmly. I heard the clatter of something metal and heavy hitting the stone floor. I struggled to sit and look, despite the madness happening around me that I couldn't process. “Besides which, consuming one's own offspring is...odious at best.”

“Gaining power justifies itself,” my father replied, his tone still level and cold. “I can't imagine you'd flinch at consuming power.”

“Oh, I don't,” Tyrathaxion said quietly. “But context is everything. Consuming power defensively or to neutralize a threat is far different from your baser motivations.”

My mother scoffed. “You have more power than nearly any single human practitioner. You have no need as we do to establish a stronger power base.”

Tyrathaxion moved his hands behind him, folding them as if ready to lecture, and lecture he did, while subtly gathering power, probably for a fatal strike. The general shape of what he said was about age affording him a certain perspective and blah, blah, blah. I hadn't turned back toward him, and I hadn't tried to build up my magical reserves for one last move – the idea foolish, futile and nearly impossible with my foci gone – I was still trying to see where the clatter had come from before.

I struggled to process what my eyes were telling me.

Connor had burned. I'd seen it. Maybe not the end, like with Britney, but I'd seen it and failed to protect him. It hit me like a thunderclap, again, that he was gone.

But he wasn't.

There was soot on his exposed skin. Much of his shirt was gone, melted in places and attached to his body. His jeans were tattered, and maybe his shoes had their soles melted – but he was standing. He'd knocked some item from the altar, which had been the clatter, but that didn't matter – he was standing. Despite the building anger and sorrow and a handful of other emotions I was feeling at watching Char and Britney die, hope bloomed at seeing Connor.

“We should talk.”

I looked around, slowly, my neck feeling like it was on an unsupported gimbal. My parents were frozen, the church was quiet. I moved my gaze up at Tyrathaxion.

“You got people killed today.” Not the first thing I'd planned to say, but it was on the list if I'd had the time. I glanced at Connor, heart aching to go to him. To push him away from this disaster. To buy him time.

He sucked in a for a moment and opened his mouth, a sound like his tongue sticking filled the space. “Even though I can cause a local temporal disturbance, I'm not omnipotent or in control of the way time moves.” He glanced around quickly and turned back to me. “There was always an element of danger involved; but I couldn't predict these two girls or where they may be.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You betrayed me. How could you do that if you didn't knowingly sacrifice Britney?”

His gaze softened. “The idea was to locate you in general, not to pinpoint you to this location. The timing was purely poor chance.” He sighed. “They're too strong to keep in place for long, not long enough to really protect us. We're going to have to fight. Do you have anything left in you?”

I coughed, spat out blood and phlegm. “Us? We?”

He squatted down. “A bargain was struck. You were no one to me, and I didn't know why they were looking for their child. Then we met, and I saw the bond that was growing between you and Connor; you became my apprentice. Circumstances frequently dictate our actions, especially when we have more data. I wouldn't have made the bargain had I known ahead of time that your parents intended to harvest you; however, you can be disagreeable, and perhaps it's not the worst thing that could happen?” He tilted up the corner of his mouth in a grimace. “Humor. Still an alien concept.”

I forced myself into a sitting position and then tottered up onto my feet. Tyrathaxion stood before me and handed me the stone that had been around Britney's neck.

“I modified it a bit while I held it. If you open yourself to it, you should get a nice top up of your magical reserves. Your mother is behind me. You deal with her.” He stared at me hard. “Agreed, apprentice?”

I swallowed and nodded. “Master.”

I swear I heard a 'pop' sound, and the world was in motion again. My mother's eyes widened a bit, seeing me suddenly standing. I drew on the stone. Top up? Was he serious? I screamed as my head hurt from the inside out; my mother's favorite attack. I gritted my teeth and saw two of her. I held a hand out and barked the command for wind – but not to push back, not to delay her. Like a dervish, papers caught up, books from blasted pews and splinters from the same twirled around her. My head began to feel better as she tried pushing back, forming a bubble of a shield.

I poured more into the spell, the sound becoming deafening as the air raged around her, and she frowned, then gritted her teeth in a snarl as she pushed back – then.

Then.

Finally.

Fear.

I pushed harder, squeezing the focus in my hand and feeling it begin to heat in my palm. Pews began to move across the floor, drawn in by the intensity. With a cry and a gasp, I lost control of the spell, and it collapsed in on her, flinging her back and glancing off a pillar.

Dimly I sensed the fight between my father and the dragon, but my body was wearing out. I hurt – everywhere. Exhaustion had settled in bone deep. The floor shook with a blow from behind me, but I was focused on my mother ahead of me.

“That was...good,” she said, wiping her mouth and catching her breath. “It was worth it to come find you.”

I looked back balefully. “I hate you.”

She smiled bitterly. “What did you expect? Love?” She made a show of spitting to her side. “Weakness.”

I straightened my back and took a deep breath, trying to focus to pull anything else from the stone, from anywhere deep within myself. The stone in my hand grew hotter yet, and I gasped, pulling my hand away – but the stone was gone. What burned now was the raised symbol on my hand, the one that marked me as Tyrathaxion's apprentice.

I looked over to my mother and then back to Connor, hoping he'd left – and was startled to find him only a stride away, and then he was with me.

“What's this?” I heard my mother mutter. “I'm tired of this.” I couldn't see her, but I felt the heat as fire blew around Connor – and as it did, blocking the advance of the flame were ephemeral wings – only seen by the heat of the flame. Connor flinched and shifted slightly as the flame died away. I pulled everything I had left into one more shot.

My mother opened her mouth, the question in her lips – and I sent a blade of air to slice cleanly into her throat, breaking only on the bone at the back of her neck. She looked at me with curious surprise, then she reached for her neck, but her hand never made it as she fell to one side.

I leaned into Connor, and we turned as Tyrathaxion roared and let out a gout of flame that backed my father up. He was desperately holding a shield out that was fading under the onslaught. Then the marble floor slab came up suddenly from one side, and there was a very odd squeak of surprise from my father as the stone crashed over and left him crushed to paste beneath it.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

The next few days were thorny. While in a magical sense I understood what Tyrathaxion had done, it had fractured any ideas of trust. That was only made worse by Connor trying to reconcile the man, Mr. Tyrath, who'd been around him his whole life but had never revealed himself to his son. Connor was wrestling with the concept of being dragonkin – not wholly draconic and not wholly human. He'd retreated back to his apartment and wasn't answering my messages.

I lay in my bed, sore all over and wishing for Connor to be there like he had been before, nursing my pain. Instead, I had a caregiver with the bedside manner of Nurse Ratched.

“I don't understand what happened to spending just a few coin to get provisions,” he huffed. “And a stove? I can see the use in not having an open flame, but it's not nearly as homey.”

“Hugo,” I groaned. “There's no going back. You have to get used to these things.”

“I know that,” he said and sighed. “I just...don't know how I'll fit into any of this.” He crossed the room to bring me a glass of water and some pills that Connor had left behind from his first foray into being my carer. “I never had to interact with this world before, despite having seen so many changes. I have no papers. I have no identity here.”

I sighed with understanding. “We'll get some for you. If you want to try and...integrate, we can make it work. You can stay with me as you need to.”

“That's almost worse,” he muttered. “Magic. I thought I'd escaped it, at the least, by being dead. Now someone can kill me again.”

I chuckled at his sour attitude. “Hugo. I love you, bro. I'm glad you're okay and that you're here. But...you're going to have to give things some time and learn. It'll take time for you to find a place.”

He sat down by my bed. “As you have?” he asked quietly. “What will you do, with Connor being so confused?”

I shrugged and sat up to drink the water with my pills. “I'll be here for him when he's ready. He had a real bomb dropped on him.” I looked at the window, the curtain blocking much of the afternoon sun. “People can take so much, short term. But when you hit a line, it can be hard to recover. I wish I knew what he was thinking.”

Hugo rubbed the back of his head but made no reply. I stared at the line of sunlight coming between the two curtain halves until my eyelids began to feel strained. I knew Connor enough to know that he'd come back, at least to ask questions. I think I'd proved that I wasn't going to lie to him. He'd known there were things he hadn't yet been told; we'd had that discussion. He'd also pulled back to think when I'd first revealed my magical nature to him, so this wasn't exactly unexpected, but I still wished he could think here with me versus being on his own.

“You know what's strange?” Hugo said quietly. Without waiting for me to give him an inevitable snarky reply, given our history together, he continued. “I've watched the world change, and yet people really haven't. Not their natures. Power. Greed. Selfishness. They can see the heavens, even get closer in their own back yards by telescopes and...and they worry about the neighbor having more than they do. Or that someone's skin color makes them better or worse. Or whose religion is best, right and true.” He glanced at me and asked, “How can there be any hope when we can't collectively look at the stars in wonder and are instead blinded by how small we can be?”

My throat closed a little in response to his emotion and to my immediate thought. I cleared my throat and sat up a bit.

“You're right, in a way,” I conceded. “Those qualities are built into the human animal. But just like other imperfect creatures, we have positive attributes. To counter those things – maybe to keep them in balance – we have your steadfastness and courage. We have Connor's heart – maybe a symbol of the love we can aspire to? I don't know. I don't have all the answers, for sure. But I feel better about my place in the world with you in it and with Connor by my side.”

Hugo's cheeks took on a blush – something he hadn't been capable of as a spirit – and a tiny smile touched his lips. “Perhaps you should take your courting talk to Connor?”

I thought for the tiniest fraction. “Yes. Maybe you're right.”

“Still, I can't help but be struck by the unfairness of it all. The indifference of the universe.” He looked at me. “We, as humans with a written history, may remember the good and the bad – but to the cosmos it doesn't matter. We could drink from rivers made of stars and space, yet...if we, like poor Britney, simply wanted to transcribe stories, it could lead to our deaths.”

I thought for a moment, stuck on the idea of a river made up of the nothingness of space and stars glittering, flowing along its infinite length. My mind, maybe sensing this was too big for it, switched to his other comment about Britney. “You say she was transcribing stories?”

He turned toward me. “Yes, didn't I mention? No, I suppose, in my agitated state at the time, I didn't.” He looked back toward the window and with something akin to reverence said, “She worked in a home for the elderly. She would sit and take notes on her breaks, writing down the stories of their childhoods. She thought it might be interesting for a blog.” He glanced at me and shrugged, not knowing the word. “But that's where the creatures came from: the memories of those elderly people relating the horror stories used to scare children. All she wanted to do was write them down, but the memories flowed into the stone and...that was that.”

That was that, I thought.

Hugo stood and crossed to the sink, placing my water glass down, and then turned back to me. “I think perhaps you're right. I may be able to find a place in the world. I think I owe you for that second chance.” He looked away and frowned lightly. “Though I thought at best I'd have to wait another five years or so to be rid of you. Now I may know you until I die.” He looked at me with mock terror. “What if I die before you?”

I shook my head and smiled. “You're such an asshole, Hugo.”

He crossed his arms and cleared his throat. “I can't express enough how deeply in your debt I-”

“Nope,” I said, shuffling off the bed and trying not to groan or press down on my injured hand. “You'd have done the same thing for me, Hugo.” I lifted my chin as I looked at him. “We're family now. I'm here for you, whether you like it or not.”

He covered his mouth briefly, trailing his fingers over his chin. “You should probably shower, if you're going to see Connor as I suspect you are.”

I lifted my chin and met his gaze.

He swallowed. “Brothers, then.”

I shuffled toward the bathroom, my spirits buoyed with the emotions Hugo and I shared.

“I will have to ask, as long as I'm sharing space with you, that you put some clothes on.”

I scratched my ass cheek. “I'll take it under advisement.”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

I was a little dejected to realize I'd never been to Connor's apartment, so I was kind of stuck on how to find him. I'd never really studied up on scrying, so tracking him down magically, while something I should have been able to do, wasn't something I'd ever been trained in. Reluctantly, I headed to the shop, because the only other person that would know where he was would be Tyrathaxion. My feelings toward the dragon were mixed and not leaning toward positive. That may be childish – I'm holding him responsible for at least two innocent deaths, turning me in to my parents and generally being an aloof asshole.

The thing is, not everyone plays by my rules. We humans can't even come up with a set of rules we agree on. Like murder. Sometimes we just don't call it murder to make it okay. Even so, if someone came to me and asked for help to find their kid without providing any details – like that they were an adult running from their parent who was trying to kill them – I'd probably help. So... logic and emotion need to get a room and work things out.

Char and Britney's deaths weighed on me, and it wasn't strictly guilt. Again, logically, I don't think I did anything wrong. Emotionally, I felt more conflicted about choices I could have made. Like, what if I'd gone to Britney's apartment instead of Hugo, me being banged up or not? Things might have turned out drastically different. There is no guarantee I'd have gotten into Britney's apartment to help her, and for some reason the manifestation happened in her apartment when most of them had – as far as I was aware – spawned elsewhere. That left the question of Hugo out there as well. Britney had been saved by Hugo that night, and as a consequence of his bravery, he'd ended up coming back to life.

So no, that wasn't a path that should have changed. With the information at the time – even in retrospect – I think that had been the right call. Logically. Emotionally, I was still looking for my mistake.

And Char. She hadn't been very likable in the short time I'd known her. Some people are charming, and maybe she'd have grown into that as she gained confidence and an understanding of her place in the world. We all do things as teens we regret – if we're smart. If we're stupid, arrogant or maybe a bit of both, we don't look back on anything with regret and instead blame the world around us for anything that goes wrong. She didn't do that, but she didn't really understand anything yet.

Her lack of understanding had gotten her killed. She knew there were predators in the world, but she'd never faced one besides the monster she'd awakened.

It's odd how we never think of the true monsters as humans.

Still, I wished there'd been time for her to grow out of who she'd been, or at least have had the chance to. I wished she'd listened when I told her she should leave, rather than try and be clever with the priest – because he wasn't a caretaker, but rather a single...wait. That didn't make a lot of sense. Why had there been only a single gunman? Had there been more, maybe outside, and Tyrathaxion had found them first?

I could drive myself crazy trying to figure things out.

I slowed my steps as I reached the shop and noted the 'Closed' sign on the door. I figured that a dragon's door wouldn't be susceptible to me using a piece of plastic to open it, so I approached it with a thought to try examining the lock to see if I could get around it. As I reached for the door, it opened on its own.

Like that wasn't creepy.

“Hello?” I asked, moving into the doorway. The lights were out overhead as I stepped into the room. I looked around slowly, assuming there was something going on I didn't understand. I was slowly crossing the room, heading for the door to the upstairs office, when it opened suddenly, Tyrathaxion stepping out and looking unsurprised to see me.

“I was wondering how long you'd take to heal,” he said, closing the door behind him. “Connor indicated you need...time.” He snorted, a puff of smoke accentuating his thoughts.

“I don't have scales to protect me,” I replied without thinking.

Tyrathaxion ran his thumb down his jawline, looking at me steadily. “I think I see it. But that changes little. You and I need to have a discussion. Come.”

“Uh, actually, I'm looking for Connor.”

He turned and looked at me. My intestines turned to water, and I actually clenched to make sure nothing leaked out. Pretty sure this is what a prey animal feels like when a predator spots them.

Tyrathaxion took the time to square his shoulders and let out a long streamer of smoke. “You need to understand your position. While it affords you some leeway, this...frivolous nature of yours reflects poorly on myself, my son and you. You need a serious mind – I can't have you questioning my every direction.” He leaned forward, managing to loom without actually getting taller. “Just because you two are an item doesn't mean you're married. You're not brood, yet.”

I tilted my head. “Let me grab the important part out of all that. Connor and I are an item?”

He lifted his chin, and the room smelled of ozone; perhaps I'd taken it a step too far.

Tyrathaxion took a step toward me, but in that step some of his draconic features became more visible, making a monstrous appearance mixed in with his human characteristics. Claws of obsidian grew from the ends of his fingers, and his eyes grew larger, glowing in a red-brown swirl. He placed his hands on my shoulders, and I felt the tips of his claws on my back, not pushing in, but clearly letting me know that they were there. I think if he squeezed he'd have impaled the entire upper half of my body.

“There are a great many things you do not understand, Nico Bosch. You have no idea of my nature, how I watched over my son and wondered if he'd ever display any of my traits. His mother...so strong. Yet to mark him as my own places him in danger, more so if he has none of my traits to protect him.” His eyes narrowed. “Only his regard for you keeps me from snapping you in twain and leaving this 'Bosch' business behind me for good.”

While I was very conscious I was never closer to death than I was right then, Tyrathaxion had given away too much. The fact that he'd like to dispose of me was actually held in check by two things; I was his apprentice, and Connor was my partner. Present tense. The idea that the dragon could have such deep feelings for another creature was something for another time – because I was still perilously close to soiling myself.

And yet.

“I'm fully aware you're choosing not to kill me. That you have made that choice before.” I cleared my throat, which suddenly felt tighter. “But one thing I do recall from my studies is that dragons don't take apprentices lightly, so you wouldn't dispose of me just for convenience.” I fixed my gaze to his eyes, though the heat made my own water after more than just a moment. “I'm eager to learn, but I also need to see Connor.”

He held me a moment longer, and for a very long moment I thought I'd finally misread him enough to have crossed an imaginary line. He was going to go fully draconic, bursting this building at the seams and swallow me whole. Not even using any ketchup, like the bumper sticker says.

He took a slow step back, his features returning to their human state. He nodded once. “Holding your composure is a good trait, though you'll need work. But let's be clear.” His eyes flashed, looking like molten magma. “I don't need an apprentice. I didn't want an apprentice. In fact-”

I have these random moments where something important suddenly gets recalled by my mind. Something I hadn't thought of, but for some reason some part of my mind gets wind that there is a connection to be made, and it starts digging through the dusty boxes of information in the attic of my brain.

“But you can't kill an apprentice,” I said. Well, actually I kind of shouted it. I held up my hand and looked at the raised symbol on my palm and turned it to him. “It's part of the pact. You're obligated to protect me as I learn from you.” Finally something from my early 'training' had been useful.

He shifted his lower jaw as if grinding his teeth. “I can just as easily-”

Whatever threat he was going to make was cut off as the door opened behind me and Connor entered. He quickly assessed the tension in the room.

“Are you not getting along?” he asked cautiously.

Tyrathaxion straightened up. “I was just explaining to Mr. Bosch the limits of his freedom to annoy.”

Connor chuckled softly. “Pretty sure he hasn't charted all those out for himself yet.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, but rather than join in the banter he was trying to create, I turned to him and held a hand toward his face. “You're okay.”

He smiled hesitantly. “It's been a strange few days,” he admitted. “I thought the whole magic thing was enough weirdness for one year – one lifetime – but here we are.”

I moved to stand in front of him and studied his face. “Yeah. Here we are.”

Connor flushed lightly and looked past me to the dragon in the room I was ignoring. “I'm going to steal Nico from you. Is that all right?”

“Please do. He's quite an aggravation.”

Connor's eyes narrowed in amusement as he looked at me. “He is at that.” He turned and opened the door, holding it open for me, and I passed through, waiting for him on the sidewalk.

I studied Connor's face for a moment. “Something's different.”

He chuckled. “A lot of things.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I'm still getting a grip on some of it. I'm not sure how long all this will take.”

“It's a lot. Magic. Dragonkin.” I used my head to point back at the shop. “An overprotective lizard as your parent.”

He grinned and shook his head. “He's always been there, but at a distance. I kind of understand now, though it doesn't make it any better for the kid inside me that's still hurting. I suppose...I have something to work on now, though.”

I ran my hand over my mouth. “He says we're an item, now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We were before. I just had to tell him, because he finds you annoying.” He tilted his head to one side. “Although the way he says it, I almost think it's a positive thing.”

“I'm sure,” I said, trying to forget I was ready to crap out my innards a few minutes ago. “Although, you know, the upside is he can't kill me if I'm with you. Makes me...dragon proof, I guess.”

“What it should make you is have a healthy desire not to piss me off,” he said with a grin.

“Point taken.”

He smiled knowingly and leaned into me. “How's Hugo?”

“Salty as ever, but adjusting. Not willingly, but adjusting.”

Connor laughed. “I can only imagine.”

“I'll want you to do more than that. I'm sure Hugo'd like to see you.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice trailing off. “Nico, I think-”

“Now, before you say something you can't take back,” I said quickly, holding up a finger. “I'd like to remind you about how honest I've been with you and how...how much I care about you.” Looking at him I felt some moisture in my eyes, and I wiped them quickly. “I know it's been pretty strange lately. Dangerous. Magic, ghost, dragons, evil people making ugly jewelry – not exactly your average relationship.” I focused my gaze on him. “I still have to take care of that other stone we left in the mausoleum, talk to Char's dad if I can and...I don't know.”

“It's okay, Nico.”

I stared at him for a moment. “What's okay?”

He smiled tenderly and took my hand, turning us down the sidewalk to head toward my apartment. “We're okay. You're right, this isn't an average relationship – it's better. There's still a lot to do. I know you care, and believe me, in my experience that's kind of rare, and I like that you care. I like that you try to do the right thing for the right reasons. I like that you've been considerate and tried to take care of me, without boxing me out and making me feel like I have no choices.”

“No choices? I'm...what?”

“Like going to the church. If you'd told me no, that it was too dangerous and for my own good, I wouldn't have understood, and that would have been a major concern. I mean...you were right, and I have more reason to trust you and ask questions later.”

I pulled him to a stop. “Connor...I thought you'd died.”

He pressed his lips together. “For a few minutes, I thought I was dying.” He blew out a breath. “Not something I want to do a lot of. But...now things are different. I understand more about who I am, but I also know I have so much to learn.”

He pulled my arm, and I fell in beside him, the cooling evening slipping past us. “So.”

He turned his head toward me and smiled, then looked forward again. “Are you healing up well?”

“Still pretty sore. Hugo's not nearly the nurse you are.”

“Yeah? Well, he hasn’t had to take care of someone alive for a long time, I think,” he replied. I was a little surprised when we turned down a street a few blocks from my own turn, but I strolled alongside Connor in the gathering gloom. Streetlights began their slow buildup, a tiny glow that would become brighter as the bulb warmed.

“So, as you probably figured, Tyrathaxion – the man I knew as Mr. Tyrath my whole life – is my father. Apparently dragons don't sire children often – his term – and because my mother was human, he wasn't sure if I'd get any of his traits. He felt it was better to keep me in the human world, where I was anonymous and safer than if people found out he had a child to use against him – or to try and harvest? He said something about that and that you could explain.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I can explain.”

“Anyway,” he said, forestalling me. “Apparently now that I was exposed to that level of fire, I may go through some changes. He says the important part is that I'm part of his brood.”

“Yeah, he said something to me about me not being part of his brood yet. I wasn't sure what he meant,” I said thoughtfully.

Connor brought me to a stop and pushed me against the brick of the building we'd been passing. In the fading light I could just see the tracery of the wings I thought I'd seen on him in the church.

“It means family. It means I let him know you're mine, and that carries a certain amount of weight, I guess.” He put a hand to my cheek. “It means you've earned what I have to give, and I want what you have to give. I know that we've gone through some real...pressure cooker kind of experiences lately, and maybe when we have had some time to relax or settle into a more mundane life, we might feel differently....”

“Or maybe we won't feel differently,” I said, heart pounding as I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. It's an experience, being pressed against a building, being kissed eagerly and trying to give that energy back.

Breaking the kiss, Connor yanked my hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, allowing him to drag me along.

“Hugo's at your apartment, right?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So, we're going to my apartment.” He turned and grinned. “Hugo doesn't like it when you're naked, but I do.”

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