Blazing the Trail (2 page)

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Authors: Deborah Cooke

BOOK: Blazing the Trail
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Bonus: I got to use my mom’s car while they were on vacation together this week. I was staying at Meagan’s and we had wheels.

You’d think that after all that a dragon girl would be able to spy the glimmer of gold in her hoard of possibilities.

But no. All I could think about—and dread—was the Valentine’s Day dance this coming Friday night.

Derek had asked me to go with him. This wasn’t a huge surprise. We’d gone to a few movies and hung out together over the past couple of months. He wasn’t much of a talker, but it felt comfortable being with him. We’d kissed twice
more and it had been sweet. I knew he wanted more than that, but I wasn’t sure if that was what I wanted.

Inviting me to the Valentine’s Day dance was big.

And I’d been avoiding him. It was serious finkdom on my part, but I just didn’t know what to do.

The thing is, I like Derek. I even like him a lot. He’s sweet and thoughtful and occasionally very funny. He’s protective of me and pretty quiet, a bit intense. Plus he’s a wolf shifter, so he understands the challenge of having two lives and keeping one part of your life secret from the other. We have the shifter thing in common and that makes it easy to be with him. I think it’s wicked that he has the gift of foresight, that he can smell the future a couple of minutes before it happens. He calls it his early-warning system. I want some of that, but so far my Wyvern ability to see the future is nonexistent.

The problem is that I don’t think I like Derek as much as he likes me.

And that worries me.

Does it matter? I think it does.

Derek is probably the guy I should go for. He’s the one chance that could work.

Of course, I have this habit of falling hard for guys who don’t fall for me. I did it first with Nick, another dragon shifter, and I’m pretty sure I’ve done it again.

For Jared. Who is older, elusive, hot, a rebel, and a member of a rock band. He rides a motorcycle, is never around when I want to talk to him, and possibly knows more about dragons than I do. He challenges me and dares me and makes me tingle right down to my toes—and that happened even before I scored my very first kiss from him. He jumbles me up and confuses me—and just the mention of his name makes my dad breathe fire and lock the doors.

I think I could have forgotten Jared—or at least let go of
the possibility of seeing him again—until he sent me the only copy in existence of a book about dragon shifters. At first he said he wouldn’t give it to me so I’d need to contact him regularly to see it. He’d called me “dragon girl” then, and his eyes were seventy million shades of green, his grip warm and tight on my hand. My heart did somersaults all over my chest.

Then he sent me the book last fall. What was I supposed to think? I thought he was done and gone and that was that.

I was still trying to reconcile myself to the idea of his being out of my life forever when he called out of the blue. Then he got the tattoo I wanted, the one my mom had forbidden me to get on my back, on
his
back for
my
birthday.

I didn’t sleep for three nights.

I’ve spent way too much time checking out the pictures he sent me of the finished tattoo on his gorgeous muscles.

Plus I still owe him a ride on my own personal Dragon Air.

So, should I hold on to the dream, as crazy and unlikely as it sounds? Or should I accept that Derek is the more practical choice and agree to go to the dance with him? I don’t want to be mean to Derek, and maybe love takes time to grow. Or maybe my instincts are right. Or maybe I’m just always going to yearn for guys that don’t want me. Maybe that’s part of what I like about them.

How twisted would that be? I like to think I’m more emotionally balanced than that.

Maybe Jared just likes the idea of having fan girls, of having me hanging on the line, waiting on him.

That really isn’t my style.

At least, it shouldn’t be.

I rounded the last corner and saw exactly what I’d wanted to avoid. Derek was leaning beside my locker, waiting for me and my answer. Meagan was at her locker, sorting her books, waiting for me and a ride home.

At least Jessica wasn’t there. She and Meagan are still tight, tighter than Jessica and me. (Apparently their both being math whizzes is a stronger force than Jessica and me both being shape shifters and the wildcards of our respective kinds. Go figure.)

Derek’s dark hair is straight and still a bit too long. It hangs over his eyes, but doesn’t disguise their pale blue hue. They are wolflike in color and intensity. I swear he has X-ray vision. He was wearing his usual dark clothes, a combo that the eye slides over easily and lets him blend into the shadows. He’s so quiet that he could be made of shadow.

Of course, he wasn’t surprised to see me and had even anticipated my direction. His gaze locked on me as soon as I turned the corner, his attention making my mouth go dry.

I’d have to give him an answer before I left today. But what would it be? Heart or mind? I had a feeling that there would be big consequences from my choice, but, of course, I couldn’t even guess what they might be. My Wyvern powers of seeing the future could have helped me out here, but no such luck.

I was on my own.

“Hey,” Derek said, a guy of few words, as always. His voice is low and rumbly, kind of like a growl. Sometimes it makes me shiver. “How was art class?”

“Best class of the day,” I said with a smile. “Makes the rest tolerable.”

As I got to my locker, Meagan laughed, tapping her messenger to pull up a new message. She was laughing a lot more than she used to and no wonder; she’d finally gotten her braces off. Her teeth looked awesome and she was attracting a lot more attention. People saw how cute she was instead of her mouthful of metal. I was happy for her.

In fact, I had an idea that I knew would make her happy if I could make it happen.

“It’s Jared again,” she said with excitement, scrolling through the new message.

“Again?” I asked as I opened my locker. I gave Derek a smile and tried to keep my tone neutral while referring to Mr. Incredibly Hot.

Derek didn’t smile back.

He watched me closely. I knew that the big moment had arrived.

I dodged it just a little bit longer.

I nudged Meagan. “You two have something going on?” I teased, acting as if I didn’t care.

Meagan laughed again. “He’s sending me all these tips about spellsinging. It’s amazing. I’m learning so much.”

“Oh, so you hear from him often.”

“Yeah! Like every second day. He’s in Des Moines this week.”

My heart stopped. Des Moines was comparatively close.

But he hadn’t called me.

In months.

Meagan held up her messenger to show the image of some club on its screen. “That’s where the band is playing tonight. They’re sold out!”

“Great,” I said, barely glancing at it. I felt a simmer begin deep in my heart.

She heard from him
every other day
?

And I hadn’t had one
hello
since November?

I was so out of his life that he hadn’t even told me that he’d gotten back with his band.

Even I know enough about guys to understand the implications of that. Jared had been messing with me. He hadn’t called me because he didn’t want to get in touch. Because he didn’t care.

Just thinking that made me wince, but there was no point in ducking the truth.

I shrugged into my coat and met Derek’s gaze. He was cautious, uncertain what I would do. “You still want to go to the dance Friday?” I asked him, my tone a little more challenging than necessary.

He straightened. “Only with you.” He smiled crookedly and I was struck by just how cute he was. “I thought you weren’t sure.”

“I’m sure. Let’s go.”

His smile broadened then and I saw how much I’d pleased him. It is kind of amazing to have that effect on someone. Would it work the other way by Friday? Or after that? “I’ll pick you up at seven, talk to your dad and stuff.” He was big on the protocol of talking to my dad. Maybe it’s a pack thing. A wolf thing. A question of respecting the hierarchy. Either way, my dad likes Derek a bunch.

Probably as much as he dislikes even the idea of Jared.

“They went to the Caribbean today. I’m staying at Meagan’s this weekend.”

Derek nodded. “Okay. I’ll pick you up there.” He glanced at Meagan. “You coming to the dance, Meagan?”

She pouted. “I don’t have a date and I don’t want to go stag. I’ve done it enough, and this year I really want to go with a guy.”

“She’s coming,” I said to Derek, and Meagan didn’t look that surprised. There’s a casualty of her being a genius—it’s tough to surprise her.

“But…” she started to protest.

“She’s coming,” I insisted, and slammed my locker. Derek looked between us, amused.

Meagan gave me a stern look. “You’re not going to fix me up. I won’t be a pity date.”

“No, you won’t be. But, yes, I am going to fix you up.” I bumped shoulders with her, the way we always do, and smiled at her. “Trust me. I have a plan and you’re going to like it.”

I did and she would.

I just had to make it work.

A
BOUT THREE MONTHS BEFORE
, M
EAGAN
had gotten her first glimpse of the
Pyr
. That’s the name for dragon shape shifters, or, at least, our name for ourselves. That’s what I am, although I’m the only female dragon shape shifter in existence. There’s only one female
Pyr
at a time, and she’s the Wyvern. I’m the Wyvern. And being the Wyvern means having a bonus pack of extra powers, some of which I’m still trying to locate.

But my point is that all the other dragon shifters I know, all of my buddies and the dragons I grew up with, are all guys. And they’re pretty hot guys. I think the dragon business works in a big way for the males of the species: it seems to make them fill out and get buff more quickly than plain old human guys. So any female with a speck of interest in the opposite sex would notice them, even when they’re in their human form.

In dragon form, they’re breathtaking.

In November, Meagan had been targeted by the Mages because of her spellsinging talents. Spellsinging is innate: you’re born with it or not. And if you are born with it, the Mages try to enlist you. They thought they could turn Meagan to the dark side, then maybe use her against me and my dragon pals. They weren’t counting on Meagan the wunderkind figuring out their plan and deciding to go undercover to learn the real deal. It all culminated at a Halloween party at the house of an apprentice Mage named Trevor who goes
to our school. Meagan had been crazy for Trevor forever, until she learned his nasty secret.

Even worse, Trevor offered up Meagan as the sacrifice for his initiation rite.

But then Garrett, one of my dragon friends, came to the rescue. Garrett is garnet and gold in dragon form, his scales like jewels, and just about as magnificent as a dragon can be. He scooped up this damsel in distress, and Meagan has been talking endlessly about Garrett ever since.

Forget Trevor.

So, I can tease Meagan about Jared because I know she’s totally nuts for Garrett.

The problem is that we’re in Chicago and Garrett lives in Traverse City. Meagan and Garrett haven’t seen each other since November. Rotten luck contributed to that—the
Pyr
got together at our place at Christmas, but Meagan and her family were on vacation in California at the exact same time. She was devastated.

And I think Garrett was a bit bummed, too.

He’s got the same strong-but-silent-type intensity as Derek. I know Meagan and Garrett talked a bunch, because between the two of them they’ve managed to translate that treatise on the Mages that he’d found in his mom’s used bookstore in the fall.

They didn’t really need to do it, given the current state of the Mage population—the Mages who hadn’t died had become incoherent messes, with no memories left—but it just seemed mean to take that away. They’d finished a month before and officially had no more excuses to talk to each other or see each other, at least not until the big NightBlade destruction we’d planned for April.

Which I’m sure seemed a very, very long time away for them.

So, that night, when I was supposed to be doing my homework at the dining room table at Meagan’s house, I used my messenger under the table and invited Garrett to the Valentine’s Day dance. Meagan watched me from the other side of the table, flicking glances toward the kitchen, where her mom was making dinner. Her mom is serious about homework, and if she caught me, she’d confiscate my messenger pronto.

I closed my hands over it in an attempt to muffle the sound as it chimed to signal an incoming message. I peeked between my fingers and grinned.

Ha! Garrett was coming.

“That had better not be a messenger I hear,” Mrs. Jameson said from the kitchen. “We’re going to eat in twenty minutes and I want to see that English homework done.”

Who?
Meagan mouthed.

I smiled as mysteriously as I could.

She wrinkled her nose at me, then glanced at her own messenger. It remained silent.

Geek,
I mouthed back at her, and she wadded up a sheet of paper to throw it at me. We have an old joke that we’re not geeky enough to message each other when we’re sitting in the same room. (Even though we sometimes do.)

“I am talking to you, Zoë Sorensson,” Mrs. Jameson added.

“Just finishing the last two questions, Mrs. Jameson,” I answered, apparently the most dutiful student alive. Just so you know, I have nobody fooled on that one.

“Meagan?”

“Done, Mom.” Meagan frowned and leaned closer to me, flicking another look at the kitchen. “Who?” she whispered.

“Wait for Friday,” I replied in kind, and winked. “You’ll love it.”

Meagan sat back. Of course she knew. Her mouth fell
open and she raised a hand to her lips.
No!
she mouthed, clearly wanting me to say yes.

It is so tedious to try to surprise a brilliant individual, you know. Impossible, maybe.

I tried to act like I didn’t understand her, but we’ve known each other way too long for that. I’d been hoping to make her wait for it, at least until we went to bed, but no luck. Meagan was too excited.

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