Ava thought harder. She had absolutely no communication with anyone she went to school with, and especially not over the summer. In fact, she’d taken her GED exam without telling anyone. She was still waiting for the results. Anything was better than another year in high school. She even boxed in silence and only talked with Walter about techniques and training practices. And T had said it himself. They weren’t really friends.
“I’m not really a relational person,” she told Karma.
“Hmm….” The woman handed Ava a cup of herbal tea, and Ava sipped it. Then, she took another sip, surprised at how soothing the drink was as it slid down her throat.
“Perhaps the sirens thought you were more beautiful than they were. That could give them a reason to be jealous.”
Something told Ava that Karma wasn’t telling her the whole truth. She wasn’t bad looking, she knew, but she wasn’t so gorgeous that three evil creatures would follow her home just to tear her face apart.
Karma sighed, relinquishing some of her finely tuned courtesy
. “Did you come all the way over here to talk to me in my kitchen?”
Ava snapped back into the reality of what she had come for.
To talk to Cale. To see if he was alright. To thank him.
Of course it’s reasonable for me to be here. Maybe not at one in the morning, but still reasonable.
“He’s the first door on the left,” Karma said. “Good luck waking him up.”
Ava took the stairs slowly, and when she got to Cale’s room, she let her hand hover over the doorknob. Her doubts resurfaced as she lingered.
I’m going to go talk to a mythical creature. In his bedroom. At one in the morning.
When she pushed it open, she expected to see dragon statues, pits of fire, and mounds of hot coals instead of a bed. But his room was normal. A few Miami Dolphins posters and Peruvian soccer jerseys hung on the walls. Clothes were littered in various piles on the floor and spilling out over the drawers. Ava closed the door behind her and turned the light on.
Cale was asleep, sprawled out across his bed, his chest rising and falling so slowly it was almost impossible. Someone had taken off his shirt–probably to examine him–and his skin displayed a few nicks and scratches, but none like the looming scar on his abdomen. Ava swallowed her guilt.
I caused that. He was protecting
me
.
Ava moved closer, closer, until finally she reached her hand out and touched the scar. He flinched away, but when she touched it again, he didn’t move. She traced her finger across it.
No one’s ever done anything like that for me before.
She remembered how afraid she had been, how the creatures had looked at her. But all the fear she had felt then was gone. Cale had come in and slashed their heads off. It was almost strange how peaceful she felt when she thought of him.
Alright, Ava, enough.
You’re being creepy
. She pulled her hand away and decided to come back later, when he was awake and ready for visitors. Ava stood to leave, looking back once she was at the door. Cale was scowling, an angry growl coming from his closed lips.
Ava moved closer
again, and the more steps she took toward him, the more relaxed his face became. When she was near enough to put her hand on his, a hint of a smile took to his lips. Then, before Ava could react, Cale grabbed hold of her hand, and twisted so that she flew over him and onto the bed beside him.
She almost screamed, ready to fight him off until he threw an arm over her shoulders, pressed his face against her hair, and stopped moving. He growled again, a gentle
humming sound that came from his chest. His breathing found that slow steady rhythm again.
It’s a pretty bold move to fling a girl into your bed, especially after you’ve only known her for a day.
Ava wanted to be angry. But she couldn’t bring herself to break away. It didn’t feel dirty, no secret agenda. In fact, it may have been the most innocent embrace she’d ever felt. It was as though every ounce of him wanted her to be there, but not because of her body, not because of what she could give him. But because she was Ava.
His arm was heavy over her shoulders, his breath hot against her hair. Ava tried to argue with herself, tried to remind herself o
f all the reasons she shouldn’t stay.
You’re in a stranger’s bed, for God’s sake.
But all she could picture was the look in Cale’s eyes when he had grabbed her and asked her if she was alright, the sound in his voice when he said not to worry, that he was on his way. All she could see was the smile that had taken over him when she said the words “next time.”
She had never met anyone like Cale Anders before. For the first time in her life, Ava was Impressed.
Five
Jim
Cale opened his eyes, then closed them and waited for a moment. He had a feeling that he was having a very wonderful, very deceptive dream, and that when he woke up he’d be immobilized by disappointment. But even with his eyes closed, he could feel it. Feel her.
When he was younger–like for example, two days earlier–he had imagined being with his rider would feel like those commercials for sodas where everyone is dancing in the street and the sun is streaming through colored confetti. But it felt nothing like that.
Having Ava
close to him felt like sitting on the very top of the highest mountain in the world. Just sitting. Nothing to do, no thoughts going through his mind, no deadlines to meet. Just sitting on that mountain with no more left to climb. Arrived at last. Home. Like he could die there and it would be alright, because he’d made it.
He didn’t want to move or she would wake up, and in his heart, he knew she’d open her eyes, come to her senses, and run screaming.
Thankfully, she hadn’t given him an absolute “no,” but she had already rejected him once, deeming him an over-enthused video game junkie. And since then, she’d come face to face with the nightfolk. She even had to burn the siren’s tear out of him. Cale had been protecting humans form sirens since he was a boy. If she decided to be his rider, she’d come up against them again. He knew she’d never want any part of that life. No sane person would. So he pretended to be asleep, to make it last.
“Cale?
Are you up?”
Cale froze.
How does she know?
“Yes,” he admitted.
Stupid honesty.
Ava sat up in the bed and faced him. She looked like she’d been up for longer than Cale had been. He was still blinking the sleep away, though his mind was already active. He sat up as well, wincing when the skin around his scar tightened. He’d forgotten all about it.
“It hurts?” Ava asked, guilt eating at her, though she refused to let it show.
“Not much,” Cale said. “It fades with time. The pain, I mean. Not the scar.”
Ava rubbed her temples, her eyes cast down.
Get it over with.
She took a deep breath. “Look, I’m so sorry, man. I’m sorry I’m in your room, which is super weird. I have no idea what I was thinking. And I’m sorry you got your guts spilled out trying to behead those siren things and I’m sorry you have that awful-looking scar and –”
Cale interrupted her. He reached out and touched the back of her hand. “I don’t think I can explain to you how awesome it is that you’re
here and not running for it.” He said it slowly, as if hoping she’d understand. “I wish you could just switch places with me and feel it for yourself.”
But Ava didn’t smile like Cale did, and it made him want to fix all her problems, right then.
I’m already making her unhappy and we haven’t even started.
“Ava, if you don’t want to be here, if you don’t want to be my rider, I understand. You must be scared out of your mind after last night.”
She shook her head.
“Actually, not scared at all. You were incredible. I just….” She furrowed her brow as she looked at him. “How did you know to call me?”
He tapped his abdomen. “I felt it. It’s like a stomach ache. Usually it tells me when I’m in trouble. I’ve never had it happen with someone else before.”
“Do all…
dragons
…do that?”
“Some.”
She bit her lip as she searched for words. “I’ve never had anyone do something like that for me. Stick up for me like you did.”
Cale already knew that about her. He could tell by the distrust in her eyes when he first met her. She deserved more. She deserved everything. “Ava, I would die for you. I would be honored. A
nd anyone who thinks otherwise…I’ll snap them in half if you want me to.”
Ava smiled.
A real one. She couldn’t help it, not with Cale being so upset on her behalf. “That was chivalrous,” she joked.
“It’s not because you’re a girl. It’s because you’re mine.”
Ava stopped at that and studied the beds of her fingernails, anything so she didn’t have to look Cale right in the eye until she was sure of the decision she’d spent half the night making. When she did look at him, his eyes were golden slivers set in black, like snake eyes, locked on to her.
“You should ask me now,” she said, a little breathless.
“Ask you?”
“Ask me so I can give you my answer. Isn’t that how it works?”
Cale didn’t want to. What he wanted was more time, more time to convince her, to show her that he wasn’t all bad, that he could be a good dragon for her. But she’d commanded. So he obeyed.
“Ava Johnson, will you be my rider?”
He wanted to throw up. His mountaintop felt so far way, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever been on it at all. If Ava said no, if she rejected him, he would go his entire life without being able to change, without his rider, just like his father had, and his father before him. He wasn’t breathing, wasn’t moving, as if doing any of that would sway her answer.
“
Okay.”
Cale blinked. “What did you just say?”
Ava couldn’t help but smile, just a little. “Cale, I would be honored to be your rider.”
He still didn’t take in any oxygen. His eyes grew bigger than Ava thought was healthy,
then he reached forward and wrapped his arms around her. There was no part of her that wanted him to pull away. It was the most genuine touch she’d ever felt.
Cale released her, studying her face again. “Are you sure?”
She scowled, crossing her arms. “Are you trying to make me change my mind?”
Cale grinned. “Can I tell everyone?” He looked at the clock over his bed. “It’s almost noon. They should be awake
by now. And I’m starving.”
Ava gasped.
“Noon? It can’t be that late already.”
“Reds like to sleep in,” he said with a shrug. “Why? Are you late to something?”
“I have to go,” she said, jumping over him. She took the stairs three at a time and yelled back at him, “I’ll call you later.”
Cale tried not to double over at the feeling of her being gone. It was almost cruel, like half of him had been stripped away by a giant Band-Aid.
Stop being such a baby,
he told himself.
She’ll be fine without you. You’ll be fine without her. It’s just for a little while.
***
Ava’s hands were gripping the wheel to Miriam’s sedan so tightly she was hurting herself. She pulled into the driveway behind Jim’s silver Mercedes and fought the urge to ram into its bumper.
She sat in the car for a moment, gathering her thoughts, trying to plan out what she would do if Jim hadn’t waited for her to get home before he let his colors show. She already knew she’d do something bad. She’d been planning for it her whole life. Just in case of a day like this.
Because she thought his voice would calm her down, because she felt like she hadn’t seen him in hours, because…she picked up her phone and dialed his number.
“Ava. What’s up?” Cale asked like
they talked all the time.
“I don’t know why I
called you–”
Cale’s next words were sharp. “Where are you? I’m coming.”
“Cale, no, you don’t need to come. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”
“Liar.
Why are you calling me if everything’s fine?”
“To say hi.
See how you’re doing.” The lies came out quick and easy. “Did you tell everyone yet?”
“Tell me what’s going on or I’m driving to your house, Ava.”
She sighed and pressed the phone even closer to her face, like she was sharing a secret, a secret she’d been keeping her whole life. She hadn’t talked about it with anyone. Not with Walter, not with T, not with her case workers.
So why am I talking to him about it?
Somehow, she felt unusually comfortable on the other end of the phone.
“It’s just sometimes my foster father can get…aggressive.”
“Aggressive?”
“And we sort of wrecked the house last night with the sirens and all that. Plus, I took Miriam’s car without asking him. He’s going to be pissed. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Are you in the house right now?” His voice sounded strained, tight.
“No, I’m still in the driveway.”
“Good. Stay where you are. I’ll be there in less than ten minutes.”
“Cale–” But he hung up on her.
She huffed at her silent phone.
I can handle this myself.
She got out of the car, about to walk around to the window when she noticed the fro
nt door was ajar. She pushed and it swung open without a sound. Ava forgot that the lock had been smashed the night before. Again, she wondered why the alarm never went off, but she buried it.
No time for curiosity
. Instead she crept upstairs and opened her bedroom door, where she suspected Miriam was hiding since she could hear Jim clanking around in their bedroom.
Miriam was sitting on Ava’s bed, going through an old photo album. Ava knew without looking that it was the scrapbook Miriam had made when Ava first came to live with them. Ava was four years old in all the pictures, her
poofy hair braided in pigtails. She couldn’t box then, she remembered, but God, could she could lie. Her teachers, her neighbors, her foster mother all bought her soppy-eyed stories. Falling down the stairs, climbing trees, slipping in the bathtub. Each bruise its own story.
“Ava? I was so worried,” Miriam dropped the scrapbook and ran to her, but Ava stopped her by raising a hand. She look
ed at her foster mother from a distance. The gray and red mark spread from Miriam’s eye to her cheekbone, glaring against her pale skin.
“Jim,” Ava called out loud enough for her foster father to hear her across the hall. “Jim!”
“Ava, please, he’ll hear you,” Miriam whispered, clutching onto Ava’s arm, her eyes wide. “I can explain,” she said.
But Ava shook herself free and walked into the hallway.
Enough explanations. Enough lies
. “Jim! Get out here.”
The door to the master bedroom–
the one Jim and Miriam had shared for twenty torturous years–opened wide. He showed himself, still dressed in his work clothes, his white collared shirt wrinkled and his politician hair disheveled, probably from slapping Miriam around.
“It’s rude to yell in someone else’s house,” he s
aid to Ava, his voice gravelly. With just a glance, Ava could tell he wasn’t drunk, and that made her even more furious.
He wasn’t the sort of man who was impressively intelligent or obviously aggressive. He was clean cut. He had a medium build and
the tone of his voice charmed most. But Miriam must have known what he was really like. She must have, because Ava surely did.
Yet until then, Ava had been his punching bag, for Miriam’s sake and without her knowledge. She had refused to defend herself
against him, knowing that if she made the wrong move–if she hit him back or angered him–Jim would have her sent back to the custody of the state. He’d do it just to break Miriam’s heart. She’d be alone after that, the sole object of his temper for the rest of her life.
Ava had always resolved that she’d protect Miriam from him. And if she couldn’t do it by pretending to be weak, she’d do it by proving she was anything but.
Ava had stared at Jim Conrad’s square jaw for years, his too-straight nose, his thin lips. Every time she laid eyes on him she’d imagined how good it would feel to put a dent in him. And at last, all her hard work, her training, every fight she’d ever won was going to pay off.
Jim lunged at her first,
just as he always did, which made it all the more sweeter when she sidestepped him and drove her knee into his groin. He doubled over with a shout and it was all too easy for Ava to lift her knee again, that time striking him in the nose. He yelped and stumbled, but before Ava could get to him again, he turned on her and pointed a pistol at her head. Apparently, Jim had his own plans as well.
Ava froze, her breath caught in her throat. Her head began to pound louder than her thoughts.
Where did he get that?
She wanted to swallow, but her mouth was too dry, her eyes burning as she stared the barrel of the weapon.
And what is he going to do with it?
Jim’s mouth and nose were bleeding and despite his look of satisfaction, Ava felt ten times better. It was worth it.
It was all worth it to get to break his nose, just once
. But he moved in close and pressed the gun to her cheek. He licked perspiration and blood from his lips, his breathing aggravated, as though he was actually contemplating pulling the trigger.
“Kneel,” he said, a winded laugh following it, almost as if he was giddy.