Page 86 of Firedrake Betrayal
Sleeping has turned into an obstacle course.
I never know which nightmare I have waiting for me when I close my eyes. The sound of a chainsaw courtesy of Atticus’s sick habit of carving up people he views as things? The blue-haired girl with the hopeless eyes, shark-like teeth, and blood sliding down her chin. The thought of Atticus stealing my baby. Or my dad turning silver and dying from the bolt Atticus shot at him.
I have all that and more to choose from.
And now this gold firedrake dream.
Am I going crazy to have dreamed there were two of me? I could ask Dominik, but do I trust him to tell me the truth?
I leave Patten sleeping. It’s early, and my nightmares aren’t important. It would be yet another thing I’d be complaining about, and I’ve done plenty of complaining to Shep already.
I have a quick shower and pull on a pair of black cropped pants and a white linen blouse before closing the bedroom door on a still sleeping Patten. There are more creases on the shirt, enough that I should iron it, but it’s that or a blue cocktail dress, and I’m not about to wear a cocktail dress for breakfast.
The shower is running as I make my way downstairs, and I spot Isaiah napping on the couch. I keep quiet, trying not to wake him if he’s been up all night.
I venture out into the garden for some fresh air, smile as the sun warms my face, and move to lean on the wall. Instead, I come face to face with Dominik.
Shit.
He’s staring into the distance, hands buried in his pockets.
He hasn’t seen me.
Yet.
Which means I have time to do something about this situation.
I turn around so I can sneak back in.
“I thought we were going to be friends?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for patience. “One day. I said maybe one day.”
Since sneaking away would go against my talk of being civil, I let the backdoor close and join the man I really don’t want to talk to.
He hasn’t looked at me yet, so I rest my back on the wall and peer up at the sky.
And to my surprise, even though Dominik is standing less than a foot away from me, I find myself relaxing as my thoughts turn to the biggest source of my nightmares.
Fear that I won’t be strong enough to save the people I love.
I recall the blue-haired woman from the compound. The hopelessness in her eyes. She had given up. I don’t know how long Atticus caged her, but she was so lost. I don’t want that to happen to me or my baby. Irefuseto let it happen.
I lift my right arm, and this time, I don’t strain when I reach for spirit, I just envision it is there, a gossamer thin strand lazily circling my wrist.
Such a thin, insubstantial thing to have slammed a man—a demon—into a wall hard enough to dent it. Is this the start of my powers growing?
I hope so.
If Atticus threatens anyone I care about, I hope this power is strong enough to crush him.
Spirit whips faster, and I’m not sure if I’m seeing things, but it’s brighter. Not as insubstantial as it was a second before. Reacting to my fear? My anger? Or is it just doing what it wants?
“Your power is growing.”
I jump, startled at Dominik’s low comment.
And just like that, my blue ribbon friend disappears. Which is not the sort of thing I would ever want to happen in a fight, for someone to startle me, and for my only way of protecting myself to startle and disappear.
