“I promise.”
Rain hoped it was a promise she’d never have to keep.
“GONE? WHAT DO YOU MEAN gone? Dead bodies don’t get up and walk around in the general scheme of things.” Elan’s voice practically dripped with sarcasm. “Maybe the dragons ate him.”
“Don’t be an idiot, El,” Rain snapped back. “You know as well as I do dragons won’t go near their own dead, and that mother was sitting feet from where Caine died. Obviously, somebody took his remains. It’s just a question of who and why. You’ve heard the rumors about the Marines taking dead bodies?”
They were sitting in one of the many tiny rooms which made up the warren that was the underground civilian compound of Sanctuary. This particular room was Elan’s own personal lair of sorts. He kept it Spartan, furnished with only a table and chairs, a cupboard where he kept his brew, and a single hurricane lantern. Rain had no idea how El saw anything with only the one candle for light. Frankly, it was sort of depressing.
El rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. What would the Marines want with dead bodies? Somebody probably buried him.” He took a gulp from the cracked mug in his hand. Elan was fond of his home brew. He had his own still hidden deep within the compound. No one knew where and he wasn’t sharing.
“And left his dog tags behind? Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, why wouldn’t they bury the other bodies?”
El laughed at that. “Oh, well. We got what we wanted, right? Guns, ammunition. Something to really fight with.”
Rain felt like growling. She crossed her arms under her breasts and leaned back in her chair. She seriously needed a new bra, but those were hard to come by these days. “You know as well as I do that those guns are useless. Have you seen the armor plating on those damn drags? And the grenades? Maybe if we lob one down a dragon’s throat, but otherwise they’ll do us more damage than they will the drags.”
Her mind stopped there. A grenade down the throat? That would explain the damage to the dragon back at the bunker. But why hadn’t the humans survived? It wasn’t dragon fire that killed Audrey or Foster.
“It’s like you said before, Rain, hope. You and I know the weapons are hardly better than sticks and stones against those monsters, but for everyone else, this is hope.” El took another sip from his mug. “I know you think that finding the body of Micah Caine would accomplish that, and maybe you’re right. Weirder things have happened, but we ain’t got his body. We’ve got guns, and people like guns. Makes them feel safe, even if it’s false safety. And dammit, people need to feel safe.” His face wore a haunted look as he stared at the bottom of his mug.
Rain sighed. He had a point. Guns did make people feel safe, but that would only last until the first time they went up against a dragon and they realized the weapons wouldn’t save them. Then where would their hope be?
“How’s Sutter?” Elan’s voice was soft, his eyes avoiding her face.
“He’s good. Fearless out there. I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”
“Good. That’s good.” He continued to stare at the scarred wooden table that sat between them, fingers toying with the empty mug.
“Come on, El.” Her voice was soft. “You two have got to get over this feud, make things right between you. Life is way too short. You’re brothers, for god’s sake.”
Elan closed his eyes, eyes that were the exact same shade of black coffee as his brother’s and shook his head slightly. “You know it’s not that easy. He still blames me.”
“It wasn’t your fault, El. Everyone knows that.”
“And yet, she’s still dead.” His voice was bleak.
“Lots of people are dead, El. Blaming each other is a waste of time.” She was tired of this argument. She was tired of stupid people and their stupid anger and hate. Didn’t they have enough going on? The world was overrun with fire-breathing dragons, for crying out loud. Family feuds they did not need.
“He loved her.” Elan got up to pour himself another drink from his stash in the cupboard. “He loved her, and I couldn’t save her.”
“You loved her, too,” Rain pointed out. She didn’t mention the fact that the woman in question had played both the brothers. He didn’t need the reminder.
El’s grin was anything but happy. “Yeah, and there lies the problem. She was his wife.” He finished pouring his drink and ambled back to the table. He looked so much like his brother that if it weren’t for the full head of dreadlocks and the ever-present mug in his hand, Rain doubted even she’d be able to tell the difference.
They were handsome devils, she’d give them that. They’d made the hearts of more than one woman flutter. They were also the most miserable bastards on the planet. El with his functional alcoholism, that’s what they’d called it back in the old days, and Sutter with his burning rage hidden under a layer of humor.
Where was Dr. Phil when you needed him?
She shook her head at her own whimsical thought. Dr. Phil and his ilk had more than likely been dragon food a long time ago. All that remained were a few tattered paperbacks by the self-help guru which Padre Pedro horded like gold and quoted more often than he quoted the Bible.
“You think it’s important? That his body is missing?” Elan changed back to their original topic.
“I think it’s suspicious. Like I said, his is the only one missing.” Rain leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. She noticed a jagged tear in her sleeve. She wondered if the
