Destiny Kills

wasn’t superman. I wasn’t even an air dragon. I didn’t have wings and certainly couldn’t fly. I wouldn’t beat that bullet, and I knew that, but that didn’t stop me from trying.

The air seemed to scream. Or maybe it was me screaming. I don’t know. The safety of the dark water was close, so close, but the bullet was faster than my fall. Metal tore through my thigh, blood, skin, and muscle flying into the air as the bullet punched its way through my leg. I hit the water and went tumbling, crashing into the far edge of the pool, landing half in, and half out of the water.

The air whooshed from my lungs and all I could feel was pain—thick, gut-churning pain—and all I wanted to do was slide into the beckoning darkness of unconsciousness. But it wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot, and I fought to remain awake and aware as a slick red puddle began to form around my leg and drip slowly into the pool.

Water splashed, and then my mother was beside me. “Oh God, oh God,” she said, her frail hands on my face, my neck. Feeling for the wound she could smell but not see.

Behind us both, footsteps approached. My heart accelerated, pumping fear through every inch of me. Pumping my life out onto the cold concrete.

But with the footsteps came another sound. The air was screaming again. But not from a bullet. Not this time.

Trae was coming.

Relief flooded through me. I didn’t care how he knew I needed help. All that mattered was that he was coming, that he was near. All I had to do was keep us both alive until then.

“Mom, get back into the protection of the whirlpool,” I whispered urgently.

“What? Don’t be—”

“Mom, shut up and just get into the damn water.”

My voice was little more than a hiss of air. I touched her face lightly, trying to convince her of my urgency, but my gaze went past her and focused again on Marsten. There was no compassion in his dark eyes, no doubt. We were nothing more than a couple of test subjects he had no intention of losing. A shiver went through me. There was no talking sense to someone like that. No way to make him see us as anything more than monsters who had no rights, no voice in this human-filled world.

“Mom,” I added, “trust me, please. I didn’t come all this way to get us both killed.”

She sobbed, but spun and dove into the water. I played my fingers through the water, calling to the energy of the loch, calling to the deep, dark waters that waited beyond this small pool.

“Well, well, well,” Marsten said, as he stopped at my feet. “That water spout of yours was a very neat trick. It would appear that the littlest sea dragon has been holding out on us.”

“I told you we were more useful alive than dead.” My gaze went past Marsten to the roof high above. Hurry. Please hurry, I thought, even though I had no idea whether he could actually hear me.

“If you were less troublesome, I’d probably agree with you. But with all the samples we’ve collected over the years, we’ve decided to grow our own little sea dragons.”

“Our control of water is learned rather than ingrained. Growing your own won’t give you your answers.”

“That’s a risk we’re prepared to take,” he said, and pointed the gun at my face.

“No,” my mother screamed, even as the roof was torn apart and a silver and gold dragon dropped like a stone toward us. His scaled hide gleamed like polished jewels in the bright light, his talons thick and deadly looking as claws widened then snapped shut, reminding me of the jaws of a crocodile grabbing for food. Never in my life have I seen a more beautiful sight.

Marsten spun and raised the gun. But he was too late. Trae’s swoop had brought him close enough to lash out with one wickedly clawed foot. As he snatched the scientist up, the gun went off, skimming his jeweled hide, leaving a slash of blood. Blood that was joined by a thick spurt as one of Trae’s claws slashed deep into Marsten’s middle, gutting him.

Trae trumpeted—a harsh, ugly sound—then his wings pumped, blasting me with air and dust as he rose skyward through the roof.

“The loch,” I screamed after him, hoping he could hear me. Hoping he’d listen. “She waits.”

He disappeared. I slumped back, feeling an odd weariness slithering through me, making my limbs seem heavy and yet my head light.

I licked my lips and tried to concentrate. It wasn’t finished yet. There were still others to be taken care of if we dragons were to have any freedom. I shifted position, and allowed my wounded leg to fall into the water. Loch water wasn’t seawater, and it didn’t have the same sort of healing power, but the freezing water would slow the bleeding, and the ancient energy caught within the loch would begin to heal the wound. Just not as fast as the sea.

“Mom,” I said, flicking my fingers through the water, letting the whirlpool of power go. “We need to call the loch and finish this.”

“I can’t,” she sobbed, splashing to a halt by my side and groping quickly for my hand. “God, I should kill you for taking such a stupid risk.”

“I’m okay, Mom, really.” I hesitated, then said, “I need to erase their fingerprints on this place. I need to call the loch.”

“Do what you wish. This place has no soul left for me now. It is your inheritance. Yours to do with what you wish.”

What I wished was for every bit of the scientists to be erased from this place. I wanted no memory of them left in the rooms or the cold stone walls. No trace of them remaining anywhere on the grounds.

Mom’s fingers wrapped around mine in the pool, and a tremor seemed to slice the dark waters. A tremor that was all excitement, all need. The loch wanted this as much as I did. With my mom’s grip somehow giving me strength, I took a deep, shuddery breath, then called.

Energy touched the air, raced across the water, across my senses. It was a rich, warm sensation, one of welcoming and of healing, and it flooded through my body, through muscles and bone and spirit, energizing and renewing. Giving me the strength I needed to fight on. To survive.

My mother sucked in a deep breath, and suddenly seemed more alive. Color warmed her pale features and her frail body suddenly seemed to have strength. She might not be able to call the magic anymore, but she was still a sea dragon, and she could still feel it.

“Come to me,” I said softly. “By the Gods of sea and air and lake, I command thee to come to me.”

The concrete underneath us shuddered, as if the very ground was trying to answer my call.

“Come to me,” I repeated, “and cleanse this place of the evil that has taken it. Let no room or person go unnoticed.”

As I spoke, thunder rumbled. It was a long, dark sound that went on and on, as if the very skies vibrated with fury.

“Take it all,” I whispered. “Cleanse it all. I want nothing of them left in this place. Nothing at all.”

There was a thick, long roar, a thunderous sound that seemed to surround us, a sound that was a combination of air and water and the very earth itself. The walls around us shook, as if in fear of its fury.

Mom smiled and squeezed my hand. “She comes. She answered.”

I had no time to reply, because the fierce dark waters rushed into our cell and swept us away to the safety of the loch.

Chapter Fifteen

That’s where my mother died.

In the arms of the loch, surrounded by its power, filled with its welcome and joy. I held her gently, keeping her body close to the shore, fighting the gentle but insistent tug of the water.

Dawn was coming—the music of it was growing—but the time was not yet right to release her to the water’s embrace.

The loch had been quiet for a good hour now, the fury of water and air and earth that I’d unleashed fading