“What’s wrong with her?” Onna asked loudly from the living room.
Cale scowled at her. “Check on Miriam so I can talk to Ava.”
Onna
growled right back at him. She had no desire to coddle the woman who’d remained in hiding upstairs.
“Please,” Cale said.
Onna’s countenance didn’t soften, but she went away.
Once she was gone, Cale took Ava’s hand in his. He touched the sear mark in the center of her palm.
“It burned you?”
She shook he
r head. “It wasn’t hot. It was…cold.”
Cold?
Cale chewed on his lip. Ava really didn’t seem injured, and he could tell that she was snapping out of whatever trance she’d been in.
Be patient with her,
he told himself. He stood still, waiting while she processed her thoughts.
Finally, she met his eyes. And she looked like Ava again. “That was…
.”
Weird? Scary?
Ava couldn’t explain it, even to herself.
“How did you know they didn’t want to fight?”
“Because…those sirens must have been watching us for a while, and neither of us noticed, and usually, you know when we’re in trouble. Plus, they weren’t singing or flashing their fangs at us. They just stood there.”
Cale nodded. He
understood even more why reds needed riders. All he could see was what needed killing. If Ava hadn’t intervened, he would have slayed every one of them. “Did they speak to you?”
Ava inhaled sharply. Just the thought of what the siren had shared with her made the tears start again. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to force them away. But Cale put her hands in her lap and wiped at her tears with his thumbs.
“Tell me.”
Ava
shrugged, trying to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. She hated crying. It made her feel vulnerable. Like a child. “It was really quiet. Like I could hear what they hear all the time. Just silence.”
She was shaking again, but Cale didn’t comment on it and Ava was grateful. She already felt weak enough. Cale knew not to draw attention to it.
“Keep going,” he said.
She squirmed as sh
e recalled the phenomenon. “It –the nightfolk–was just so sad. It was the most painful thing I’ve ever seen. Like its heart was always breaking all the time. There was so much…hurt. And nothing else.”
Cale frowned. He could feel his own body react to her sadness. He wanted to push it away, but he couldn’t.
How awful must she be feeling if I can’t even shake it off?
“Why here? Why us?” she asked.
Cale stood up straight, the truth dawning on him. “This wasn’t like the first night, when they attacked you. I think…I think this was different. These sirens wanted to speak with–with you.”
Of course. The Deceiver. They had come to Miami looking for Ava.
“But why?”
“Maybe they knew you could understand them. Maybe they knew you’d listen.”
Ava could hear Santiago’s words come back to her.
How much sadness is in me?
“But what’s the point? What am I supposed to do with nay of that?”
“I have no idea.”
He wished Cameron was there. His brother would ask the right questions. He’d figure it all out. Cale looked around the kitchen, straining his brain, trying to summon even a hint of blue observation skills.
What am I missing? What would Cam pick up on?
His eyes fell to the pile of crests that Onna had collected and placed on the counter while Ava was unresponsive. He lifted one in his hands. It wasn’t cold, didn’t burn him in the least. Ava reached out to take it, but she gasped, retreating as fast as she could.
“But it feels normal,” he said. Cool, ordinary stone.
Ava looked at him as though he had lost his mind. She held up her finger and showed the mark it left on her. “It burned the nightfolk, too. When I ripped it off, there was a scar on its chest just like these.” She poked at her palm and her finger. “Maybe it doesn’t hurt you because you’re a dragon.”
“Maybe.”
“
The nightfolk looked relieved when I took it off him.”
Ava turned herself a bit so that she could flip the faucet on. She let the cool water run o
ver the ice burns. “Why would they wear the crest if it causes them pain?”
Cale studied the crest, letting it spiral from the leather cord. Out of curiosity, he moved Ava’s hands out of the way and held it under the running water.
Nothing.
But Ava hopped off of the counter and got a glass from the O’Hara’s cabinet. She filled it with water, then moved Cale’s arm so that the siren crest dipped into the cup. Almost instantly, the water froze, trapping the pendant in a block of ice.
“I can’t believe my mom and Cameron didn’t figure this out,” Cale said in awe.
I can’t believe
we
did.
“It felt normal to them. They probably had no idea it was cold.”
“Ava, this doesn’t make any sense. It’s a dragon crest,” Cale said. “I mean, we thought they were fashioned after the ancient crests, but they actually
are
ancient crests. It must not be compatible with the sirens.”
Ava frowned. “But you don’t
wear a crest.”
Cale lifted his shirt and pointed to the skin just above his hip. The tattoo was tiny. A circle with an “X” running through it. “Most red dragons just make it permanent so people don’t ask questions. I’ve had it since I was a baby. Onna, Myra, and Rory all wear the same crest.”
“But you used to wear crests like this? Like necklaces?”
“Sure.
Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, when humans knew about us. When rankings were bigger than the Olympics.” He tossed the crest into the garbage can, glass and all. “Things are different now. I’ve always had to hide who I am. The tattoo does the trick.”
“Have there always been sirens?
As long as there have been dragons and humans?”
“I think so
, but they probably never wore dragon crests. And they definitely didn’t have such powerful tears.”
Ava bit her lip. “There shouldn’t be so many creatures that are so sad.” She shook her head. “It just seems wrong.”
“I don’t think I can sympathize with sirens, Ava.” Cale said. “I’ve seen what they can do.”
Ava scoffed. “I’ve seen what people can do. That doesn’t mean you throw the whole species into the trash without trying to understand them.”
Cale smiled as he shook his head at her. “You are so much kinder than you think. Especially when your guard is down.” He tugged one of her curls. “I hope you keep those reasoning skills sharp. We’ll need them if we want an audience with the red council.”
Ava nodded and hopped off of the counter. Cale followed closely as she walked up the stairs. Despite her words, he held a small dragonblade in his hands, casually, as if she wouldn’t notice. She smiled as his eyes darted around the bedroom, checking for more unwanted intruders. He opened the closet door, sorting through the empty hangers for sirens.
Ava threw herself onto the bed, leaving Cale to his own undoing. She closed her eyes and prayed to God that she wouldn’t dream of the silence, of the tears.
Thirteen
Stocks
The airport bustled, travelers sending disapproving glances their way
, but there might as well have been no one else around. Cameron tangled his fingers in Myra’s blonde hair, leaning into her. She returned the kiss, her eyes closed, her fists tight around his shirt.
Even
Ava blushed as she looked away–anywhere but at the two of them. She scribbled out the rest of her customs form as deliberately as she could, glad for the distraction.
Onna pouted at Cale a few feet away, her arms crossed.
“When are you coming back?” she asked.
“I told you I don’t know,” he said. “Don’t act like you’re going to miss me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course I won’t.”
Then she glared across the terminal at Ava, who was still bent over her form, pen slowly moving. She squinted at Ava’s wild ringlets and
the way her lashes fluttered against her skin as she looked down. She was effortlessly beautiful.
“I hate her, Cale. I hate her so much.”
Cale grinned and pulled Onna into a hug. “No, you don’t.”
He still couldn’t believe that Onna had gotten the money out of her mother without telling her what it was for. A thousand dollars was a lot to borrow, and Cale had no idea how he was going to pay them back, especially since he’d broken their table
, among other key pieces of furniture.
Onna wrapped her arms around Cale’s
waist and pressed her nose into his t-shirt. He was familiar, warm. “Do you love me yet?” she asked against his chest.
He leaned his chin against the top of her head. “Always, kid.”
She sighed, straightening up. His answer was familiar, too. Onna left Cale’s embrace because she had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate her kissing him again. Instead, she strolled over to Ava and loomed over her.
“Yeah?”
Ava asked when she noticed the red staring at her.
“Nothing.”
Onna flipped her hair. It was so long it almost fluffed Ava in the face. “Just…you better take care of him.”
“He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself,” Ava snapped.
Then she sighed. She wished that she could rewind time and be kinder to Onna. It was so hard for her to remember she wasn’t all bad.
Cale is wrong. If there’s any kindness in me, it’s buried too deep to be excavated.
“Than
ks for keeping Miriam,” Ava offered. Ava had no reservations about leaving her foster mother with the O’Hara’s, especially after she’d seen Onna in action.
Onna shrugged. “All she does is clean and cook and work on those puzzles.
Less chores for me.”
Onna wasn’t looking at Ava as she talked. Her eyes were on Cale. Ava followed her gaze to the dragon
who was frowning over his ticket and scratching his elbow, unaware that he was being observed.
“It’s really cool of you to not tell him,” Ava said. “About T, I mean.”
“Has nothing to do with you,” Onna replied. “He’d never forgive me if he found out.”
Ava, Cameron, and Cale picked up their backpacks and turned toward the gate as Myra and Onna watched. The trio didn’t make it two steps before Cale was tackled from behind.
Rory spun him around, his huge arms trapping Cale’s shoulders in a bear hug. Cale forced himself to breathe, forced himself to remember that he was too old for crying. They stayed that way for a moment, until Cale thought he might not be able to leave after all. When Rory pulled away, he tried his best to smile at his older brother.
“I’m an ass,” Rory said.
Cale grinned. “Agreed.”
“You better be in shape when you get back.
Rory messed up his brother’s hair. Victor’s going to want to finish what we started.”
“Right now, I’m just focusing on the survival part.”
Rory hugged him again. Then, he nodded to Ava, and she returned it. She noticed that he hadn’t grabbed her up in hug, but she didn’t mind. She couldn’t blame Rory for being resentful. Even though she hadn’t meant to and still didn’t understand it all, she’d torn their family apart, just by stepping through their front door.
Rory scratched the back of his head when his eyes fell on Cameron. The blue dragon who shared so much of his DNA stood very still, in stark contrast to Rory’s fidgeting. Rory tried to find something appropriate to say, opening his mouth and then closing it again. Finally, he managed two words.
“Do good.”
Cameron’s face was expressionless, his blue eyes like stones.
On the other side of the ticket counter, Cameron took back his stub and his passport and
disappeared through the gate. Ava was about to step forward in line when Cale froze in place. She stopped next to him, leaning in.
“Cale, we’re next,” she whispered.
He shook his head, closing his eyes. His heart was beating so fast, he could hardly breathe. His legs wouldn’t move an inch.
“Cale,” Ava said, pulling at his arm.
She waved the couple behind them on, and they stepped around Cale, handing their tickets to the smiling flight attendant.
“I can’t,” Cale said, barely audible.
The last time he’d been on a plane, he’d looked death in the eyes. It called his name. He’d almost lost everything. He’d almost lost Ava.
The flight to Peru had had the opposite effect on her. She wanted to hold her chin high when she passed the ticket counter. Having Cale next to her only made her
more sure.
If I survived that, I’ll survive anything.
“We’ll get to see the clouds again,” she said.
For a long, long time.
The flight to Ireland would take fifteen hours. She’d packed a deck of cards, a Nintendo DS, and an unnatural amount of beef jerky into her backpack in anticipation. But she’d never expected getting Cale on the plane would be the biggest problem.
“Let’s take a boat,” he said, shaking his head and backing away. “Boats are safe.”
“You think we’ll stand a better chance against the no-ir in a canoe in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean?”
He shivered when she said the name.
Crap, I forgot,
she thought. Tossing the word around wasn’t helping to calm him down at all. But the boarding line was thinning, and soon, Ava and Cale would be the only passengers that hadn’t been seated. And the plane would leave without them, the money they spent on their tickets gone. They’d be even further from clearing Cale’s name.
“I’ll just stay exiled,” he said, still whispering. His stomach hurt so furiously, it nearly doubled him over. “I’ll just stay here.”
“Will you be boarding?” the attendant asked in her sugar sweet voice.
“Give us a minute,” Ava said over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry–”
“–
A minute,” Ava snapped.
The attendant clamped her mouth shut.
Ava pulled Cale aside and put her hands on his face so that he had no choice but to look at her. His eyes weren’t focused. They darted around like trembling brown spheres.
“What’s my name, Cale?”
He frowned at the question, confused by it. He blinked, his eyes focusing, the traces of blue in his blood enticing him to answer. “Ava.”
“Ava what?”
“Ava Johnson.”
“That’s right. You Chose me. And if you think I’m going to let some stupid black lizard get anywhere near you, then you don’t know me.” She pointed her finger at the doorway. “Now, get on that plane.”
He could feel his heart beat slow down. The nonsensical thoughts that had been bouncing around in his head settled, then dissipated. Her face was so sure, so unflinching.
Man, she’s good.
After two hours of playing solitaire and four orders of apple juice, Cale couldn’t stand Ava’s head bobbing around. She was fighting sleep so hard it grated against his nerves. He lifted the armrest and nudged her over toward him. Without protestation, she curled her arm around his knee, breathing gently on his lap.
Cale didn’t think he would ever find pleasure in watching someone sleep. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, like it usually was, and he wished she had let it loose as he brushed his hand against the curls. He ran his finger down her cheek. Her skin was the perfect color, a light brown dusted with cinnamon.
It came to his lips again, from someplace deep inside him.
Sarai.
He closed his eyes and tasted the word. It was sweet on his tongue. He moved his lips as he whispered it.
Cameron observed the interaction with curiosity, the same way he observed most things, his wide eyes absorbing his brother and his rider.
“You think she’ll go through with it?” Cale asked him quietly, using the language unique to their nest. “With the pact?”
Cameron would give an objective answer. Cale knew that.
Cameron thought for a moment, then frowned, suddenly distracted. He realized with a disappointing jolt that he was thirsty. He sipped the water that the attendant had left on his tray, barely even skimming any off the top.
The blue dragon waited for the water to slide down his throat. It was a slow process, but Cale was patient, giving his brother time to finish. Out of respect, Cale looked at Ava again instead of at his brother. It would always be strange to Cale that eating wasn’t a social event in the blue world. It was almost embarrassing, a diver
sion from what really mattered–a debasing necessity.
When he had finally finished, Cameron cleared his throat and spoke in blue tongue. “As you know, I am very good at analyzing personality types.” He handed the rest of his water to Cale, who drank it so quickly that a bit of it ran down his chin.
Cameron continued. “I am also good at assessing compatibility based on a person’s past actions. But if you were to ask me to judge a person’s character, as you just have, I’m afraid I would come up short every time.”
Cale frowned. “I disagree.”
Cameron almost smiled at his older brother. “You would know the answer to your question better than I. You are the best judge of character I’ve ever met, Cale.”
Cale shook his head. “You’re wrong about that, too.”
Cameron tapped his fingers against his tray. “I’ll give you an example. You are, I believe, Onna’s only friend. This is because most see her as a manipulative, selfish, narcissistic bully.”
“She
is
all those things,” Cale said.
“And still, you see
good in her when others don’t.”
“But you’re attracted to Myra, and she’s even meaner than Onna.”
“She’s not…that mean.”
Cale chuckled. “You don’t have to explain to me. You like her. Go for it.”
Cameron shook his head. “There it is again. What is it in you that compels you to tolerate
me
?”
Cale shrugged. “You’re my brother.”
“I’m also Rory’s brother, but he knows nothing about me, nor will he ever care to.”
“It’s not that he doesn’t care, Cam. He just doesn’t understand how you are.”
“And you do?”
“I try to.”
Cameron looked
away, picking up a magazine that he knew would not hold his interest for more than two minutes. “Perhaps you should try to understand our mother in the same way,” he said.
Cale gritted his teeth.
Really? Now is when the Vomit Club is in session?
“I do love her, Cam.” He stalled, correcting
himself. “I did love her.” He sighed. Even talking about them made his chest tighten. Karma wasn’t even his mother anymore. It was all too confusing, too much. “I loved her the same way you love Mac.”
Cameron didn’t answer. His face was unreadable.
When they landed in Ireland without a beast ripping into their aircraft, Cale took a deep breath and let it out slowly. They waited near the taxis, their bags in hand.
“I don’t know when I’ll see you again.” Cameron looked around, soaking in the postures and attitudes of the hundreds of people bustling by him. “I have no words of wisdom to leave you.
So, goodbye then.”
And just like that, Cameron Anders
left, his duffel bag over his shoulder.
“So…
he’s going to a monastery?” Ava asked. “How is he getting there?”
“No idea. I’m sure he’ll have to use his second form to get there at some point. He’ll swim, I guess.”
“And the next time we see him, he’ll be a monk? Like with the robe and the circle cut in the top of his hair.”
Cale laughed as he hailed a cab. “No. I don’t think so. Most blues spend their whole lives trying to gain access to one of the two institutes of learning.
The academies or the monasteries.”
“Why didn’t he go to the academy? That sounds a lot less fruity.”