I stood against the wall of the motel room with arms crossed while my father was on the phone. The clank of a heating system turning on irritated my enhanced hearing and my nostrils stung from the bleach that hung in the air. I officially hated motels.
A few months ago, my dad had left on a trip. It was right after Samuel took away the knowledge that he was that pathetic waste of an excuse, and parts of the old Robert had magically appeared the next day.
The trip was unexpected, and none of us really knew where he was. When he’d returned, I had to pack my bags, and we both left like thieves in the night.
I couldn’t even tell Sam that I would not fight for a while. It put me on edge too, as we had a blood contract. Not that I cared about what would happen to me, as that was the only person he could hurt. My sister and mother were safe through the blood contract.
Dad had kept me in the dark until we flew through the barriers of Paegeia.
I was only once behind the wall. It was a long time ago, and I hadn’t received my human form yet. We went to China.
China still knew about our existence. They knew we lived behind a magical wall inside what humans call the Bermuda Triangle. Dragons were prominent in their culture, in their art, and it was an honor to be introduced to them as the alpha of the dragons.
My father promised me to go back one day, but China wasn’t our destination this time.
We flew for hours and landed late in the morning hours inside a crowded forest covered in white and morphed back into our human forms.
Thank heavens cold didn’t affect us as the humans, otherwise we would’ve frozen to death. The tiredness consumed me and we both crashed inside the forest inside tents and sleeping bags.
When we woke up, I’d discovered we were in America.
I had no clue what we were doing here, or why my father needed me.
The nearby town was beautiful. Not Paegeia’s type of beauty, but another type of beauty. It was so primitive. There was hardly any technology that we had behind the wall.
Dad got us phones.
“Lucian,” I spoke into the phone, and my father laughed.
“What?”
“It’s not a Cammy, Blake. Here?” he asked for my phone with an outstretched hand. I handed mine over.
“You press the buttons, and each phone has a sequence of numbers that is connected to the phone. The number is like pairing a Cammy. They answer on the other side and you can hear them speaking.”
“So no holograms?”
“No, but they have something called a video call. Their faces pop up on the screen.”
“That’s boring,” I mumbled.
My father chuckled. “It’s the real world, Son.”
He hadn’t called me son in a long time, and I didn’t know if I trusted the warmth that spread through my core. It differed from my fire.
“One without magic,” Dad said. “This side relies on science and technology, and you have to be careful. If they discover you are a dragon—”
My eyes shot up at my father’s gaze. “What will happen?”
“Just say they don’t like myths and they might threaten you to such a point where they will feel that they have to take other measures. They can’t know about our existence.”
I nodded.
“Don’t lose your temper, Blake, don’t use your abilities either. We have to blend in so thick jackets and boots.”
I grunted. I hated clothes to begin with. More layers were pushing it.
“We need to blend in. They will question it if you don’t wear a thick jacket.”
“Fine,” I mumbled.
The real world was a strange and scary place, but we were clever, smart creatures and figured out things like Facebook and Instagram fast. How to find others that didn’t want to be found.
I was the alpha of the dragons. The only one of its kind. They knew me as the Rubicon. All ten breeds in one, and my abilities were still waking up.
I had a few already that were like my allies, but they didn’t belong to me. They belonged to my rider that was prophesied through our Vídeň. A seer that could see a little of the royals, the true royals, that died fourteen years, almost fifteen years ago. We called her prophecies, foretellings.
She foretold my rider was going to be the offspring of the true royals. That we were destined for one another. But then they died before the queen could sire any offspring. Goran, their best friend and one of the best dragon-riders, also known as Dragonians, betrayed them.
The creepers consumed Etan, and we lost our capital. Creepers that no one could get through as they have these mouth-like shapes at the end of their bodies, that contained a poison that would kill you in seconds. There was no cure. They also had this monstrous demeanor that could easily tear a man or dragon apart. The creepers entrapped Goran behind them with the rest of our capital.
The Vídeň said throughout the years that I would free Etan with my rider, but my rider didn’t exist, or not the genuine kind. It was why Lucian, the Prince of Tith, and my blood brother made it his mission to claim me.
Why my dad felt he needed to find someone on this side of the wall was beyond me. And then last night he’d told me everything.
“Are you sure about this?”
“It was where I came from when I returned. There is a Moon-bolt that not only saw her in visions but met her a long time ago.”
“Her?” I froze. A heaviness sunk into my gut.
“I know it’s a lot to take in. But you have a rider. Why Albert never told me that Katie was with child, I will never know?” He rubbed his neck, and a pained, watery gaze stared at nothing.
“Dad, how did they get her past the wall?”
He blinked and sighed. “I don’t know. I got a feeling they gave her the coward’s potion.”
The coward’s potion. So my theories about the wall were right. “They needed my blood for that potion.”
“I know.” He gave me a skeptical look.
“Well, I don’t remember my blood being given, or drawn. Do you? Was I asleep?”
“I don’t remember that either, Blake.” My father spoke.
“Then how did they get her past the wall? Who told you this?” My voice raised a few octaves higher.
“The Moon-Bolt. She sees them. The princess is with Jako Lemuir.”
“King Louie’s dragon?”
My father nodded. I wondered many times what had happened to him. He’d disappeared a few days after Tanya, the queen’s dragon, had left.
“How did you find out about this?”
“Someone tipped me off, a letter. I didn’t know who wrote it, but the letter said that my answers were on the other side of the wall. Your answer was on the other side of the wall. It wasn’t so hard to put two and two together when your name popped in the letter too.”
“What?”
“It was by luck that I found this letter. If I didn’t enter that hostel, I would’ve never found the letter.”
“What hostel?”
“It doesn’t matter now. It’s done, and we found your rider.” He smiled.
I didn’t like the fact that he was still spending time at a hostel. What was he doing there? Was it before Sam took away his memories, replaced it with new ones, or after.
How did he remember the letter if it was before?
Silence lingered. I always thought that the wall had something to do with human heartbeats. My dad just confirmed it had. The shield didn’t pick up the dragons’ heartbeats. Only an EKG machine could pick up mine. But if it was the Coward’s potion, then why couldn’t I remember giving my blood freely?
“Have you seen her?”
“No, but I know her name is Elena Watkins. I was told that when the queen died, Tanya went back to Paegeia, abandoned her, and Jako took care of her. He goes by a new alias, Herbert.”
“And they are here?”
“That is what she saw?”
“How old is this Moon-bolt?”
“Older than Irene. Probably twice her age.”
“And she lives here, among humans?” It was a hard pill to swallow.
My father had tears in his eyes. “You should’ve seen how she reacted when she saw me. She bowed down like I was the king.”
“You were his dragon. They see you as royalty. How old is Elena?”
“Fifteen. It’s not the main reason I felt the need to come here. The Moon-Bolt told me that there are dragons on this side, probably doing Goran’s bidding that want her dead. Jako is on the move, never stays longer than three months. We need to find them before the colony finds them.”
I nodded. I had a rider. It wasn’t male; it was female, and it scared the living crap out of me, as I knew what it meant.
A part of me didn’t want this, but I needed it not to lose myself over to the dark side. All the Rubicons before me went dark, and this girl was my only salvation. “You think I’ll know if I see her?”
“A dragon always knows,” my father said. “We can’t stay long here. If she is here, Blake, we will get a more permanent resident, and then you need to gain her trust.”
“That is your plan? Dad, I know nothing about this side.” I wiped my sweaty palms hard on my jeans.
“You will be fine.”
“Why can’t you just get hold of Jako, speak to him?”
“You don’t know Jako the way I do. I can only imagine what he had been through for the past fifteen years. He can disappear like that.” He snapped his fingers. “We need to do this one extremely carefully. Dragons can smell other dragons and we are going to need your rider’s help in order to get close to Jako so that I could speak to him. I don’t even think he knows who betrayed the royals, Blake. I still might be high on his list, and he will think that I’m here to hurt her. We need to show him I’m here to protect her too, that you are here to bring her home. Paegeia is her home.”
Silence lingered for a few seconds as I processed what my father was saying. They had trapped them on this side. Dad used to be the prime suspect for a while. He was a Night-Villain and a lot of the people of Paegeia didn’t see Night-Villains as honorable, even if he was the king’s dragon.
“You think she knows?”
“I’m sure. I doubt Jako would’ve kept her in the dark about the existence of dragons,” my father said.
I nodded.
It was still a hard pill to swallow. I had a rider. The thought vibrated through my mind as I laid in bed that night.
The room of this place was small and Dad mentioned they call it a motel. We each had a bed. There was a bathroom attached to the room, with a TV against the wall.
I couldn’t believe that I had to win over her trust. It was going to be hard knowing who she was. Knowing what she was to me and my confidence was the key. But it terrified me it would wane when I saw her.
She was the key to my survival, and I couldn’t fuck it up.
ELENA
Falmouth High was just like any of the other thirty odd schools I attended.
There were posters against the walls, the drama club, open for auditions for the next school play. The chess club wanted more kids to sign up. Everywhere huge red and pink hearts with hiring the school band or the acappella group to serenade for your valentine hung on the wall. Everything described a normal life I could only dream of.
It took the students in my class about four days to get used to me. Their curiosity soon died when they had discovered I wasn’t a threat to the cheerleader squad or held any of the boys’ attention. And I didn’t act weird for them to bully me.
I answered questions when the girls asked them and stayed clear of any unwanted attention. I didn’t look for a clique.
What was the use? Making new friends that I would never see again was a waste of their time. Taking part in any of the clubs would just leave this place so much harder. Signing up for any of the winter sports, well, to be honest, I did not know if I was good at any of them.
So I kept to myself and did what I love—drawing and reading.
Art was one of my primary subjects. I sketched daily and loved it as much as I loved music. I was good at art.
Mother had to be the artist in our family, as Dad didn’t own a creative bone in his body. But he supported my hobby.
I always had a sheet of paper, some drawing pencils, and chalk, some paint and a canvas or two. Not that we took it with us when we leave. He always bought new ones. There was no time for my art to be packed when his paranoia kicked in. It almost made me give it up, but it was the one thing that was constant in my life. That was a part of me and giving up on it would be like giving up on myself. So I got over the fact that the art I’d created in the past would be like pieces I left behind.
My art teachers were extremely in awe of my techniques. It didn’t matter what tools I used to create my pieces, it would become a masterpiece. Mrs. Finn did not differ from all the other art teachers I had.
She wanted to pull some strings, and it surprised her that my face didn’t light up when she mentioned Yale or Rutgers Art. Not even the scholarships added a glint in my eye. It was a dream that would never become a reality. I had to make peace with that, too.
During lunch, I would sit by myself. Handmade posters against the colorful mosaic mural advertise more school events.
Rows of long tables with plastic chairs spaced out along them covered the linoleum floor. A menu board listing items and prices hung against the wall closest to the food area.
I sat at the last table at the back, close to the double swing doors entering the cafeteria.
A line of jostling teens carrying colored plastic or metal trays walked to their everyday tables.
It took about a week and a half for every person in this school to discover I wasn’t that interesting to get to know. It was because of the walls I put up—not just for me, but for them, too.
I usually read while eating. And today was no different.
“Mind if I sit?” a dreamy, husky voice asked, and I looked up.
I froze. It was the new guy that enrolled a few days ago. The one who looked straight at me yesterday when I passed his table filled with the ice hockey jocks and cheerleaders.
The reason I froze was that every single girl in this school spoke about him. He was part of the populars. One glance would make someone like me see that a mile away. He was smooth in his actions, and from the table that laughed yesterday, funny too. But it wasn’t the reason the girls spoke about him. He was out of this world gorgeous. His chest muscles bulged against his shirt, wearing a thick coat, with these peacock blue eyes that could look straight into your soul. In contrast with his raven hair, I would say he was from a completely different planet.
His lips tugged slightly upwards in the corners of his mouth as he still waited for my answer, with a tray in his hand.
“You can speak, right?” His one eyebrow raised softly, and I shook my head to get released from his spell.
“Sorry, yes, I speak. Why?”
He frowned and looked unsure about my question. “Why what?”
“Why do you want to sit here?”
He pulled out the chair, extremely confident, and put his tray on the table. “I need a break.”
I couldn’t help but snort.
“You are the only one that I haven’t met yet. Name is Blake, Blake Leaf.”
“Leaf as go away or trees?”
“Trees. I know lame.” He took a bite of his burger.
He seriously could raise a heartbeat. Mine was thumping like crazy.
He pushed his food into his left cheek to speak proper words. “You are?”
“Elena Watkins,” I muttered.
“Nice meeting you, Elena.”
I did not know what was wrong with me. It was as if my mind didn’t function properly with this guy sitting so close. My stomach was doing many things, and my ears were burning red underneath my beanie. I could feel it. But my mind. All the manners my father taught me disappeared.
My palms sweat as I looked back down at the book I read.
“So, what are you reading?”
Oh, crap. He would think I was one of those. I lifted my book slowly and showed him the cover of Wuthering Heights. A tragic story, just the way Bronte knew how to write.
His eyebrow arched slightly, making him look even more delicious. Stop it, Elena. What is wrong with you? He’s just a guy, like any other guy. Okay, that wasn’t entirely the truth. He was a Baroque with abs and ass, but still a guy.
I broke eye contact and read my book again.
“You like tragic stories?”
Surprise washed over me. He knew what Wuthering Heights was about? I looked at him again.
“You read?” I asked with a faint smile on my face, half-eaten apple still in my hand.
“Occasionally, but if you tell anyone, I’ll have to set you on fire.”
I chuckled. Set me on fire? “My lips are sealed.”
Besides, who was I going to tell. My father? He would have a hernia with this one.
We carried on in silence, or the few minutes of silence we got. Chairs scraped on the floor as trays smacked hard on the table’s surface. Girls slid into the chairs and the boys plopped into theirs. All laughing and speaking at the same time. None of them even uttered a request.
It got way too crowded for me and I picked up my portfolio tote that carried my newest project that wasn’t done, my book, and got up.
“Nice meeting you, Elena,” Blake said, interrupting one girl that asked him a question.
I stopped and just smiled at him awkwardly as I walked on further.
Shit, if these girls were going to see me as a threat now, Falmouth High was going to become my new nightmare for the next two-and-a-half months. And all thanks to Mr. Sexy-from-another-planet.
