Mercy Burns

It was pointedly said, so I pushed the money across the table. He scooped it up quickly, then reached into his coat pocket and drew out a pen and a business card. He scrawled several lines on the back, then slid it across the table. “Driving directions.”

I picked up the card and had a look. As directions went, they were pretty detailed, but I guess if this place had been easy to find, more people would have known about it. I flicked the card over. The Captain’s Bay Cruises, it said, in big bold letters. I’ll be damned. He was a sea captain.

I shoved it in my pocket and took another drink. The ice was melting fast—an indication of just how hot this bar was becoming. I blew out a breath, lifting the damp hair from my forehead, then said, “How did you manage to survive the destruction when no else did?”

“Blind luck.” Once again, the memory of the past seemed to crowd close. “I’d been out of the water too long and my skin was itchy, so I headed down to the beach.”

I nodded. According to Leith, sea dragons needed water as much as air dragons needed the sun to fuel their flames. Only for the sea-born, it was a daily necessity, whereas air dragons could survive days on end without being out in the sun.

“And that’s where you were attacked?”

He nodded. “I heard screaming and had started to run back, but was confronted by several men with long blades.”

“Blades?”

“Blades,” he confirmed grimly. “Big brave men that they were, they felt the need to attack a lone teenager in a pack.” He shook his head. “It was lucky that I was still close to the water. I went under and stayed there.”

“So you didn’t actually see the destruction?”

He hesitated. “Some. I poked my head up occasionally, but it was all flame and death. There was nothing I could have done to stop it. There were just too many of them.”

“But the town was right next to the sea—you could have flooded the place and washed them away.”

“The sea rarely answers the call of one so young.” He grimaced. “Which didn’t stop me from trying, believe me.”

“So why didn’t your parents—”

“My parents,” he interrupted, voice terse, “must have been among the first to die. Otherwise, they would have.”

And he felt guilty about their deaths. Or rather, he felt guilty about surviving when everyone else had not. It was all there to be seen in the shadowed depths of his eyes.

“Did you see any of them at all?”

“Not really.” He drained his glass. “They wore masks, all of them. Ski masks.”

“Why would they hide their faces if they intended to destroy the whole town? That makes no sense at all.”

He shrugged. “Maybe they simply wanted to ensure that if someone did escape, they wouldn’t be able to identify them.”

Who in the hell would they identify them to? As Angus had already pointed out, neither the human cops nor the dragon council were likely prospects, no matter how many people had died. And the cliques weren’t any different. The ones who had died were the unwanted.

Then again, maybe this was the council’s way of taking care of the draman problem. Anything was possible.

I drank some more Coke, then asked, “Have you ever tried to find any of the men involved?”

He hesitated, and emotion flashed in his eyes. Anger, regret, and something else I couldn’t really name, but which stirred a response in me nevertheless. I licked my lips and ignored muscles twitching with the need to be gone. Now. I could defend myself. I’d proven that time and again. And one lone sea dragon didn’t pose half the threat that my clique had over the years.

“Hard to get revenge on folk when you never saw their faces,” he said.

And that was his first complete lie. I could taste it, could practically feel the air curling away from the poisonous words. Trae, my half brother, might have the dragon knack of stealing, but I’d inherited something far more useful—the ability to sense falsehoods.

Of course, it wasn’t infallible, as the scars on my back and side would attest, but it had saved my life more often than not, and I wasn’t about to doubt it now.

“You said they wore ski masks. If you were close enough to see that, then you were close enough to notice other things.”

He studied me for a moment, his eyes suddenly as flat as his expression. “Like what?”

“Were they human or dragon kind, for a start?”

He snorted softly. “Humans would have been neither fast enough nor strong enough to overpower a whole town of draman.”

That was true, but the question still had to be asked. Not all draman inherited dragon powers. Some fell on the human side when it came to capabilities. “What about plate numbers? Or voices?”

“I never heard or saw any cars. And I would have, if they’d driven.”

If they’d flown, they must have landed away from the town, so as not to alert the townsfolk of their approach. The rush of wind past a dragon’s wing wasn’t exactly quiet.

He finished the dregs of his beer then shoved back the chair and stood. “What time do you want to rendezvous tomorrow?”

I hesitated, wondering if I would need backup. I might be able to defend myself, but something about this dragon made me wary, and it wasn’t just the lies and half-truths I was sensing. “How about eleven?”

I could ring Leith when I got back home to see if he would accompany me. And if not, maybe he could lend me one of his investigators. I’d feel better if my back was covered. Hell, if I knew where my brother was, I’d ring him, but he was off somewhere again.

“Eleven would be good. And don’t forget to bring the rest of the money.” Angus gave me a nod, then turned and walked out of the bar.

I drained my Coke, then stood. The room spun for a moment, and I grabbed at the tabletop to steady myself. Sweat broke out across my brow and I swiped at it irritably. Lord, I didn’t think it was that hot in here.

Or maybe it wasn’t the heat. The doctors had warned me something like this was likely to happen after the blood loss I’d suffered in the accident, which meant I needed to go home and rest, just like they’d ordered.

I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair, then gave the bartender a nod and walked out. I could feel his gaze in the middle of my back, like an itch I couldn’t quite scratch, and again unease washed through me.

It was a relief to hit the street again, although the brightness of the dying day had me blinking after the dark of the bar. I raised my face to the sunshine, feeling the power of the oncoming dusk beginning to rise and letting it slither through me to stir the fires in my soul. Yet neither that energy nor the accompanying breeze did much to clear my spinning head.

I flicked a droplet of sweat from my nose, then turned and headed up the street. Once I got home, I could grab a shower. That would cool me down.

But my legs felt shaky and the footpath seemed to be swaying and my stomach was roaring up my throat. I swallowed back bile and grabbed at the nearby wall, trying to steady myself. Lord, maybe I should have stayed in the hospital after all. Or maybe the drugs they’d given me were finally beginning to take effect.

Drugs …

No, I thought, suddenly remembering the forced half smile the bartender had given me when he’d brought over the drinks. It couldn’t be.

Why in the hell would the bartender want to drug me? And why would he even bother? It made no sense.

Unless …

Unless he was a part of this whole deal. Unless he was one of those who had helped kill Rainey.

I shoved a shaking hand into the pocket of my jacket, dragged out my cell phone, and flipped it open. The little number pad blurred and danced before my eyes. I swore and swiped at a button, trying to get the phone book