City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood (49 page)

Heikman looked away, his vertebrae practically creaking with the effort. He said, “If I didn’t know any better I would think you are trying to hurry up and die.” The corners of his lips turned up, but it was a poor imitation of the real thing.

Falrey said, “Actually, I’m trying to avoid it.”

“Then why so eager?”

“Because your stupidity is what’s going to get me killed.”

The blank look Heikman shot Farley was all too familiar. Christ, he looked like Darco.

Farley held his ground. “Look, you’re starving because you’re fighting your
need
. You aren’t getting sated. So by the time you break down and
feed,
you’re insane with hunger.”

Something passed behind Heikman’s eyes. Farley wasn’t sure what, but at least he didn’t look like his Brother any more. Thank. Fuck.

“You are very different, Farley.”

P-shaw, ya think?
“Because you’re used to dealing with Submissives who you scare into getting themselves killed. I’m not a Submissive.” Hell, that would be a few steps up.

The eyebrow above Heikman’s golden eye cocked. “Well then, if you’re not a Submissive, what are you?” There was enough humor in Heikman’s tone to suggest he was about to laugh.

What Farley said did just the opposite. “I’m Food. Kin like me don’t climb out of the Hatching grounds.”

“Obviously they do…”

Farley stared down at the halvsies. It was hard to tell them apart. They were nothing but corded muscle and size. Freaks of nature.

“No. We don’t. I did because I learned early on how to sate the
needs
of others. It’s the only reason I ever crawled into the daylight. ” After all, if Farley hadn’t been able to satisfy his Brother, the Male would have killed him and eaten him like he did the others.

Heikman said, “You sound like you’re offering.”

“I am. If I can sate you, then I don’t die. And I don’t want to die.”

An uneasy quiet fell. Farley could feel the weight of the Lesser-Bred’s stare.

When Heikman spoke his voice was rough, almost broken. “You’d never survive it.”

Farley shrugged. “I know you like to cut up what you want. You make sure I can heal, I can take whatever shit you dish out.” He tossed Heikman a glance. “Look, you kill me and you said yourself you’d have to go to the source.” Just saying it made Farley’s vision go bright. “Face it, you’re two steps from being fucked because of whatever is happening to you. You’d better start changing your SOP or you’re gonna wind up…” He flicked his hand. “Well…however Lesser-Bred Alchemists wind up.”

Yeah, as long as it was painful and gruesome, the actual order of demise was of course optional.

Farley waited for a response. A reaction. Anything, damn it. But Heikman’s eyes were back on the halvsies. Instead of some revelation from the Lesser-Bred Farley got, “I think we’re done here. You can return to your room.”

Total shut down. Yeah, just showed how stupid the asshole really was. No telling how many Kin he’d killed over the years and he still couldn’t figure it out. Some were like that. Farley couldn’t beat reality into their thick skulls with a sledgehammer.

Not one to pass up a fuck-you right back, Farley leaned in close and said, “As for last night? Get used to it.”

Orin smelled flesh and blood of the Human variety, and the hunger inside him tried to claw its way out. God of Man, he hadn’t felt pain like this since he was a white-scale, fresh from the egg and starving. Orin had eaten two of his clutch-mates within minutes of breaking shell.

Now with the RHage gone it was like everything else was raw and open. It could have been the mark. He wasn’t sure. Either way, this kind of loss of control was practically unknown to him.

Orin’s spine bowed as his muscles contracted. With more effort than it should have required, he opened his eyes to heavy shadows and rock.

His eyes searched, following his nose. The coat and shirt he’d taken from Deshi were gone, but Orin still had his slacks. What was left of them. Like his legs, they were a shredded mess. The blood he smelled was on him. Orin stared at his hands which were crimson up to his elbows. Images flicked through his head of being fed a heart, a liver, just enough to keep him from bleeding out, but not enough to heal. And he’d begged for more.

Pleaded for it.

“Come to me, Orin. Let me
feed
you, protect you, keep you warm.” Orin’s head whipped to the side, zeroing in on the sound of Rehbek’ah’s voice as she poured out from the empty space right in front of his eyes. “I want to keep you. Let me ease you, fulfill you.”

“Fuck you!” Orin growled.

She smiled and moved closer. When her scent hit Orin’s nose, the muscles in his neck seized up and his face was yanked to his shoulder in a painful spasm.

E’fin humiliating really.

Rehbek’ah’s gaze moved over him, lingering on his shoulder. Her expression darkened. “You are still mine. Even with that mark. You always have been. Always will be.”

Orin ignored whatever else she had to say while he reached down, ripped a handful of tattered meat from his lower leg, and ate it. His body wanted the flesh and blood of another but it would recycle what it could. As he chewed, Rehbek’ah’s gaze drifted in the direction of the upper tunnel. “I think you will be very happy here, Orin.”

“Like hell.”

She smiled. “You’ll see. Pretty soon you’ll see this place as home and you and I will be so happy together.”

And how come that kind of answer didn’t surprise him?

No. This was the Female that blew up his car. Re’ka had been a bitch but at least she was a sane bitch.

This one? Not so much.

Orin tore free another strip and continued chewing, fighting his gag reflex as his body retaliated. He needed more than just meat. He needed blood, metaphysical exchange. He needed his own.

From beside him Rehbek’ah said, “Orin, let me help you.”

“You want to help? Then let me go.”

“No one is saying you can’t leave.” Looking at her was a mistake, but he did it anyway. “That tunnel,” she said, pointing. “It will lead you out.” A thin cruel smile peeled over her lips.

Of course it would. Now only if he was healed enough to walk.

One trembling hand in front of the other, Orin pulled himself across the ragged rock floor.

Rehbek’ah followed. “It would be so much easier if you would just take my hand. I could carry you.”

Yeah, she’d like that, wouldn’t she? Orin clenched his jaw and kept dragging himself.

“Really, Orin, don’t you think you are being silly?”

Silly? Silly! Orin stopped to catch his breath. He was never going to make it out, not like this. If there were white-scales down here, or immature Males, he was an easy meal.

Bloody, mutilated, and ripe for picking.

But he sure as hell wasn’t staying. Again Orin pulled himself forward. Another few inches closer to freedom. How far did he have to go? The Athens Dens was small—miniscule—in comparison to Atlanta. Even though he could smell the outside a hundred, maybe two hundred feet away, it might as well be miles. Orin’s head touched his forearm as a new series of cramps assaulted his back.

A high pitched desperate cry from somewhere up ahead made Orin’s teeth punch down and his head snap up. He moved faster, dragging himself toward the sound of food, his body searing, his senses coming alive.

“Oh dear God, no..no…” A Human voice from a Human mouth. Orin dug his hands into the rock, stopping himself. “No, please, no, please don’t do this…”

Sarah Drew, the city DA, hung like a rack of meat just a few feet inside the tunnel. Orin turned his head, refusing to look at her. The fear she radiated made her scent sweet. Rehbek’ah exhaled a sigh. “See? I even brought you something to eat.”

Orin growled. “Why are you doing this?”

“She was going to hurt you. Put you away.” Rehbek’ah said it with the practicality of the completely insane.

“And what do you think the cops are going to do when they figure out you did this?”

“Then I’ll kill them too.”

Orin shook his head. “This isn’t ancient times, Rehbek’ah. You can’t get away with this behavior. Humans have weapons now and they can burn out the Athens Dens just like they did in Texas.” If she heard him, she didn’t care.

Rehbek’ah circled him, smiling. “Take from me, Orin, or
feed
from her. Either way, it won’t matter. You’re never leaving here because you can’t.” Orin groaned. His arms went forward, pulling him closer. He stopped himself but only barely. God of Man, he never imagined that being without the RHage would make him so weak.

A high pitched whine ticked out of Drew’s throat. Orin said, “Don’t! Don’t scream. It makes it harder…for…” His left arm went forward, body humming like a tuning fork. “…me…to…stop…”

Drew kicked and twisted against the bindings holding her up. The skin on her wrists split and the smell of blood hit the air.

“NO-NO-NO!” Orin’s body closed another few feet. This time he stopped himself by slamming his mouth into his arm and biting. The DA made a strangled noise but snapped her mouth shut.

“Poor Orin.” Rehbek’ah kneeled down beside him. “How much longer do you think you can last? Eventually you’ll have to eat. Your body is starving. Your
need
has risen.”

Orin pulled his mouth free. “Don’t do this, Rehbek’ah. The consequences aren’t worth it.”

“Consequences? I’m Queen. I am the only consequence.” So calm, so sure. “I would think you’d understand this by now. There is no defying me. Tell me, Orin, how many more must pay for your disobedience? Mary, her brother—how many more Chetrah will I have to kill to make you understand, accept, and submit? I can kill hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands. Is that what you want?”

“No.”

“Then give me what I desire.” She stood up and moved toward Drew. The woman’s eyes went wide when Rehbek’ah extended her chelae.

“Stop!” Orin looked up at her. “Okay, you win. No more killing. No more death.” He took a breath. “Let Drew go. Let her go and I won’t fight you anymore.”

“But she was going to hurt you, Orin. She was going to lock you away from me.” Rehbek’ah raised a claw.

“You cut her and I won’t do it.”

The Queen laughed. “And how do you plan on stopping yourself? When her blood spills and the scent of her pain hits the air, do you really think you’ll have the power to stop?”

No, he wouldn’t. It would take death to stop him.

Orin swallowed back his own fear and put his hand to his throat. His chelae made a wet sound as they punched through his neck. Rehbek’ah’s eyes went wide.

“I’ll do it,” he said choking on his own blood. “I’ll make it so you can never have me. Let her go.”

“You won’t.”

“Test me and find out.” Orin coughed and dark green sprayed the rocky floor in front of him. “Do it, Rehbek’ah. Let her go.”

“Kin do not want to die, Orin. Even you don’t want to die.” Rehbek’ah raised her hand.

“You’re right. I don’t want to die. But I will. I will die because killing to survive isn’t worth living to me anymore.”

Rehbek’ah froze and blinked. Once. Slow.

Orin said, “Let Drew go, and you can have me.”

For way too long Rehbek’ah seemed to think about his offer. Then with a flick of her hand, the bindings parted and Drew tumbled to the ground.

“Go!” Orin coughed again. “Don’t stop. Don’t make a sound. Walk, don’t run. God of Man, don’t run.” On unsteady legs Drew pulled herself up. “Go!” She staggered back and headed up the tunnel.

A deep unsteady silence fell and Orin could hear everything. The Queen breathing, the movement of Kin in adjoining tunnels, but up ahead there was only the sound of Drew, shuffling her feet toward freedom.

He made himself wait, knowing he was getting weaker with every passing second.

Rehbek’ah said, “She’s free, Orin.” Her gaze locked on his hand.

Orin gave a nod. “Just a minute or two more.”

“You’re too close to death.” Rehbek’ah fell to her knees and crawled closer. “She’s safe. No one will bother her. Just…let go of your throat.”

For a fleeting second Orin wondered if it would be worth killing himself just to see the look on her face as he bled out.

“Come to me.” Rehbek’ah extended her hand. “
Feed
from me.”

Yeah, Orin was willing to bet the look on her face would be priceless. But like all Kin he feared death more than anything.

Orin did the only thing he could. He retracted his chelae and gave Rehbek’ah his hand.

Back in the Mustang, Haley sat in the dark with Deshi. This was out of her league. She worked for the CFKR as an Agent. Her primary job was to help deal with the Males in the Tank. It kept the officers from getting hurt and it kept Kin from getting killed. Haley taught rookie cops how to deal with Kin, what to do and not do. Of course there was PR for the species, and lots of paper work. That was a biggie.

Thanks to the things she did, Georgia was one of the most progressive states to take the gentler approach toward dragons. A lot of places still shot first and asked questions later. If the suspect was still breathing they sometimes even got answers.

Haley pulled out her phone.

Deshi said, “What are you doing?”

“Calling the police.”

“They can’t help.”

Yeah, but they were supposed to, right? They were the good guys. The ones you called when you were in trouble, and if anything ever qualified for the trouble slot this was it. So why did she drop her phone back in her lap? Because Deshi was right.

God of Man, Haley didn’t know what to do.

Malcolm never covered little dilemmas like this in his book, Kin Culture. Yeah, she was betting even he’d be at a loss for words for this situation.

She said, “What can I do?”

Deshi opened his mouth to say something but his phone rang. He made no move to answer it. Only one person could make him freeze up like that. Emily. Not to mention only Emily would have the brass kahonas to call him at—Haley checked her watch—five-thirty am.

“You forgot to call her back, didn’t you?” ‘Cause knowing Emily she’d want hourly updates.