Mercy Burns (3 page)

Only I doubt he’d ever been near a boat in his life. Sea dragons had no need for that mode of transport. Not according to Leith—a friend who was currently running a background check on Dougall. And he should know, because he was a sea dragon himself.

Angus came back with a beer in his hand and sat down. His gaze swept my face, lingering on the half-healed wound that snuck out from my hair to create a jagged line across half my forehead. Once it was fully healed, it would be barely visible, but right now it was fucking ugly.

Which was a small price to pay, considering the other option. Tears touched my eyes and I blinked them away rapidly. Now was
not
the time to grieve. I had far too much to do before I could give in to the pain and hurt and loss.

Angus took a sip of his beer then said, “I wasn’t actually expecting you to make it today. I thought you’d been in an accident?”

Fear prickled my spine. I took a drink to ease the sudden dryness in my throat and wondered if he’d been behind the wheel of that truck. Wondered just how safe I was in this bar, even with the dozen or so strangers around us.

“I was.”

“You look okay.”

“I am.” My fingers tightened around the glass. “Who told you about the accident?”

Certainly
I
hadn’t mentioned it when I’d finally received my possessions from the mangled car and had given him another call. In fact, I hadn’t told anyone—although that hadn’t stopped Leith from calling the hospital frantically to see if I was all right. But then, he had other methods of finding these things out.

Angus shrugged. “I saw it mentioned in the
Chronicle.
”

If the
Chronicle
had run an article on the accident, why hadn’t they contacted me? I was, after all, one of their reporters. But I could sense no lie in his words or in his expression, and reading a newspaper had been the last thing on my mind when I’d awoken in the hospital. For all I knew, he
was
telling the truth. Yet there was a strange tension emanating from him, and that made me uneasy. I eased my grip a little on the glass and took a sip.

“I was also told you’re draman,” he continued.

Meaning someone
had
been checking up on me. And given the accident that wasn’t, that couldn’t be a good thing—especially considering I wasn’t exactly popular at home. I knew for a fact that many in my clique hoarded a grudge as avidly as they collected all things shiny—which was the reason behind my original move to San Francisco.

It was entirely possible that one of those long-hoarded grudges was the reason behind Rainey’s death. After all, someone had given that deep-voiced man my cell phone number, and Mom still lived within the clique’s compound. She was extraordinarily trusting
when it came to the dragons that she lived with and loved.

And just because I was presuming it was linked to our quest to discover the reason behind the death of Rainey’s sister didn’t mean that it actually was.

And if I was wrong, then Rainey would pay.

But I wasn’t wrong. I felt that with every inch of my being.

“What does it matter to you what I am?” I asked, wondering if he, like many full dragons, held a grudge against those of us who weren’t.

It was a sad fact that most full-bloods considered us a blight on the dragon name. In times past, it had been common practice among the dragon cliques to regularly cull the draman ranks. These days, such practices were outlawed by the dragon council, but I very much doubted it was done to protect us. The fact was, humans were encroaching on dragon land more and more, and mass cleansings—as they were called—were bound to attract notice sooner or later. It said something about the council’s desperation to avoid human notice that they were allowing our numbers to increase.

But if Angus was one of
those
dragons, then I wasn’t entirely sure what my next step would be. I desperately needed the information he apparently had, but he was a sea dragon and a man besides. He had me bested in both strength
and
skill.

He took a sip of beer, his face giving little away. White froth briefly decorated his wiry beard before he wiped it away. “You’re a member of the Jamieson clique, aren’t you?”

Again that sliver of fear ran down my spine. Maybe
I’d stepped out of the frying pan and into the fire—and this wasn’t the sort of heat I could control. Not if things went wrong. “How do you know that?”

“Because I’m not stupid enough to meet anyone without checking up on them first.”

“And if you’re inferring that I am, then you’re mistaken.” Although he wasn’t. Not entirely.

A smile briefly touched his mouth before disappearing. “Jamieson’s one of the oldest ones, isn’t it?”

I raised an eyebrow. “They’re all old, simply because there are no new cliques. There haven’t been, for hundreds of years.”

The rogue towns certainly didn’t count. Not yet, anyway—although I had no doubt that the council would move on them sooner or later. They seemed to think the only way to stop the humans from discovering us was to rule us all with the iron fist of fear and retribution.

Which is why Rainey and I had thought that the council might be behind the cleansings of both Stillwater and Desert Springs. But the clues weren’t really adding any support to that.

Angus took another sip of beer then leaned forward, blue eyes wary as he said, “Prove you are who you say.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I need to be sure it’s not a trap.”

“Why would you agree to meet me if you think it’s a trap?” And why would he even
think
I was trying to trap him?

Hell, even Rainey wouldn’t have tried something like that, and she’d had the full spectrum of dragon
powers. But she’d also had a lot more respect for full-bloods, despite what we’d gone through growing up.

Angus’s smile had a bitter edge. “You ask that, two days after a serious accident that landed you in the hospital and left your best friend dead?” He shook his head. “You’d be better off walking away right now, little draman.”

He was probably right. I knew that, even if I had no intention of ever doing it. “I can’t.”

“Even knowing you could be risking your life? These people aren’t the type to let anyone off easily. We both bear the scars to prove that.”

“What they’ve done has only strengthened my determination to track them down.” Tears welled and I blinked them away quickly, internally repeating the mantra that had become a theme for me this last day and a bit.
Don’t think, don’t feel
. Not until it was all over, one way or another. “And if you’ve got scars, where the hell are they?”

Angus shoved an arm across the table and pushed up the sleeve of his shirt. His leathery skin was crisscrossed with a myriad of thickly healed wounds. “My whole body bears the evidence of their attack. They’re not going to get a second shot.”

My gaze jumped from the scars to his eyes, and I saw the glint of determination and fury there. And suddenly, I knew
why
he’d chosen this bar. Not because it was a refuge for would-be sea dogs, but because it was close to the sea. Which was his to call, like fire was for dragons. He’d drown everyone if he thought I was in any way here to trap him.

I blew out a breath, then said, “What do you want me to do?”

“If you are who you say you are, show me your stain and prove it.”

The stain was a leathery, luminescent strip of skin that swirled around the spines of all dragons, whether they were of the air or sea, or were a half-breed like myself. The colors varied depending on clique and parentage, but usually involved a myriad of iridescent colors. I’d never been able to shift shape and attain dragon form so, unlike most stains, mine was just a boring brown.

But there were only a few people who could know that—past lovers, my mom, and my brother.

Neither my mom nor my brother would give out personal information like that, so that left past lovers. And while I could name a couple of those who’d delight in not only telling all but in getting back at me in any way possible, they’d left the clique well before Rainey and I had.

“I’m not stripping in public just to prove who I am.” Especially
not
in a bar filled with shadowy men who maybe weren’t less-than-savory types, but who were still unknowns all the same.

And you never trusted an unknown. It was a motto that had saved my skin many a time growing up, and I wasn’t about to abandon it now, no matter how badly I wanted information.

Angus studied me for a moment, then said, voice still flat, “Then dance fire across your fingertips. I’m told you have extraordinary control.”

I frowned. I didn’t like using dragon skills in public—in fact, not using them
anywhere
humans were likely to see them had been hammered into my brain since birth. There might be no humans currently
in this bar, but there was nothing stopping them from walking in at the wrong moment. “Why is this so important to you?”

“It’s important because I’ve been caught unawares before and have paid the price for it.” Bleakness flared in his eyes, and his somewhat fierce expression was touched fleetingly with sadness, a sadness that tore at my heart and made the reporter in me want to ask what was wrong. But I very much doubted he’d answer that question when he didn’t even trust me with the information I was going to pay him for.

Then the sadness was gone and he took another sip of beer before adding, in a voice that was edgy and sharp, “And I’ve discovered the hard way that lies and entrapments fall from the prettiest tongue as easily as the ugliest.”

“Well, I hope I fall into the former group rather than the latter,” I said, a little alarmed by the sudden fierceness in his tone. Something was very off, but I wasn’t sure what. Then my gaze flicked to his arm. Maybe his fierceness
was
understandable. With scars like those, survival must have been touch and go, even for a dragon who could heal far better than any human.

“Do it,” he said, “or I walk out of here now and you’ll never get your answers.”

I looked around the room, seeing no one looking our way or showing any undue interest. That might change given what I was about to do, but there wasn’t much I could change about that. Not if I wanted my answers.

If this guy
could
provide answers and wasn’t just yanking my chain.

I mean, the voice on the phone that had given us
this lead had been oddly familiar, and that alone had raised questions. But Rainey had convinced me that we needed to take the chance if we were ever to get some answers. And now Rainey was dead and I was here talking to a stranger who might not only be connected to her death, but who might well be here to trap me—the one who had escaped from their little “accident.”

And while Leith and his people
were
doing the background check on Angus, I simply didn’t have the time to sit back and wait for the answers. Hence the reason I was here, taking this god-awful chance.

I had no other choice if I wanted to save Rainey.

I pushed the Coke back then held up a hand, keeping it close to my chest so that there was less likelihood of anyone else noticing.

Then I reached deep down into that place in my soul where the dragon resided. She came roaring forward in answer, heating my skin and making it tingle. But she was all flame and no substance, as usual. I focused on the energy burning through my body, controlling and restricting it until it was little more than flickers dancing joyfully across my fingertips.

Few dragons could do that with their fire. Most had full flame or nothing.

I met Angus’s gaze. “Satisfied?”

He nodded, but oddly he didn’t seem to relax. In fact, the tension that was knotting his shoulders and arms seemed worse than ever.

“So tell me,” I added, “what you know about the cleansings.”

He laced his fingers together, then leaned forward. “I know where the bodies are.”

His voice was little more than a husky whisper and, for a moment, I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. “How can there be bodies? After death, a dragon’s flesh is incinerated by the touch of the day’s first rays.”

His smile was grim. “The sun has to touch the flesh to incinerate it. If the body is underground by then, no amount of sunshine will burn it.”

As a dragon—or half-dragon—I was horrified at the thought of flesh being left underground to rot. It wasn’t only a sign of disrespect, but utter and total disregard. “Why would anyone do that? Hell, if nothing else, it’s leaving evidence behind for others to find.”

“Aye, but when a dragon dies and is gifted the sun’s caress one last time, is not the passing of his or her soul felt by those close to them?”

I nodded. It was the only reason that Rainey had realized something had happened to her sister, and one of the major reasons behind my desperation to find Rainey’s killer. She’d only had the one sibling and, unlike me, wasn’t close to her mother. In fact, she hadn’t seen her since she was five. This wasn’t rare in our clique, as children tended to be raised in crèches rather than family settings, but my mom had made the effort to be involved in both my and Trae’s upbringing, so we knew not only her but her relatives—although I doubted they actually realized we were half dragon. But most other mothers—whether human or dragon—didn’t bother with their children. For Rainey, this meant that there was no one who cared enough to find out what had happened or to try and save her soul.

Only me.

“Then why,” Angus continued, “would the people
behind these slaughters risk the sun setting the souls of their victims free and thereby notifying their kin that something had happened?”

“I guess they wouldn’t.” But it meant something had gone wrong when it came to Rainey’s sister, because Rainey had definitely felt her passing.

“Exactly. So the remains are there to find. It’s just that no one has been left alive to tell the tale.”

It also meant that the men behind these slaughters were experts at covering their tracks. We’d certainly seen nothing that had looked like graves—or even freshly dug earth—at either Stillwater or Desert Springs.

But was that so surprising? If the people behind this were clever enough to make the population of two small towns disappear without anyone getting suspicious, then they were clever enough to disguise the graves.