Chapter 5
Chapter Five
brYN
I finish the last of my toast while I stare at Milo’s spreadsheet and try to wake up enough to comprehend what I’m looking at.
The whole thing is colour-coded and details an exact strategy to get me back up to strength and flying skill in the most efficient way possible.
There’s even a tab with a diet plan, including those protein shakes some humans use.
‘Why are you showing me this now?’ I ask, my hand movements tight with irritation. ‘We’ve been training almost every day.’
Milo straightens from where he’s been leaning against the fridge, moving to sit opposite me at our little table.
‘I’ve done a lot of research over the past year about physical rehabilitation and the best ways to build up shifter strength, particularly in larger shifters like dragons and bears.
I’ve been waiting to show you until I could tailor it to your actual abilities post-release, which I’ve now been able to comprehensively assess. ’
I slam the laptop lid closed and get up to pace the small kitchen. ‘So while I’ve been working like crazy for weeks, trying to get my flying skills back up to scratch, you’ve been assessing me?’
He frowns, his hands moving rapidly. ‘Only so I can help you in the best way possible. I wanted to give you time to reconnect with your dragon and improve naturally, without the pressure of something this structured.’
I run a hand over my buzzed hair, trying to calm the fuck down.
Unless Dhiren is around, my dragon wants to hide in a dark cave somewhere, which is making flight training more difficult than I want to admit.
That’s not Milo’s fault though, and I shouldn’t take it out on him.
Yes, his level of nerd is high, but he’s doing this because he loves me.
‘Fine, we’ll try it.’ I keep my hands calm this time. ‘Thank you.’
He snorts, a little puff of smoke escaping his nostrils. ‘That hurt, didn’t it?’
‘So much.’ My lips quirk as I pick up my plate and turn to quickly wash our few breakfast dishes.
I’m running a bit later than usual, so as soon as that’s done I head for our small hall to get my steel toecap boots on for work, only to almost run into Milo coming out of my bedroom, a familiar box in his hands. It’s the one I’ve been keeping buried at the back of my wardrobe.
‘Why have you got that out?’ I ask, my shoulders tensing.
He puts it down and plants his feet, jaw set. ‘I thought we could go through it later. I think you should start drawing again.’
The box contains my old sketchbooks and a few textbooks I couldn’t get digitally. I worked hard to qualify as an architect, and my drawings have always been inextricably linked with that. I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with the jagged wound caused by the loss of my career.
‘Why does it matter if I draw? No one’s going to employ an architect with a criminal record and only a year’s post-qualification experience.’
We exchanged emails about this when I was inside. How our aunt terminated my employment after my arrest and told me never to contact her or her company again. How she’s probably blacklisted me throughout the industry. How no one would trust my work.
His eyes soften. ‘It makes you happy.’
‘It used to.’
He nods, and even though there’s understanding in his eyes, I can’t help but wonder if he actually gets how hard this is for me. He doesn’t say anything else as I lace my boots, check I’ve got my phone, wallet, and keys, and wave goodbye.
I head up to the roof, a knot in my stomach. The snow from a few days ago has mostly melted and turned into ice, leaving everything treacherously slippery, but I get airborne without too much difficulty and head for work.
I don’t really pay attention to where I’m going, distracted by thoughts of how much my brother must feel like I’m letting him down, and what I’m actually going to do about a job after my time at Far Out Freight is up.
Harley and I discussed multiple ideas when we were still inside, but the reality is that finding an employer willing to take a chance on someone with a conviction like mine is going to be next to impossible.
A light from the side half blinds me, and I swerve just in time to avoid colliding with a news helicopter heading somewhere in a hurry. For fuck’s sake, I need to be better than this. The last thing I want is for humans to get hurt because I was too wrapped up in my own self-pity to pay attention.
As soon as I arrive at work, I climb down from the roof and rush inside, conscious that I only have about thirty seconds to clock in. I swipe my pass through the machine in the nick of time, then head for the section of wall where the scanners are kept in slots.
A few of the civilians are chatting as they start heading along the warehouse, in no real hurry.
I take one of the few remaining scanners from a slot and log in as fast as I’m able.
It fails to read my security pass the first time—stupid fae technology—but I manage to get my job list up only a minute after seven.
I take a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart, then head for the first aisle on my list, wincing at how the magic in here seems brighter than usual. Is that a new layer of warding on the offices?
Standing at the top of the metal staircase to his office, Lance has his hands on his hips, wings spread wide, and eyes narrowed at me. As soon as I make eye contact he lazily SimComs, ‘You were late.’
Everyone around me stops and stares, because of course they do. Apparently, humiliation is Lance’s strategy of the day.
Aire’s been strict with me, pulling me up on every little thing, but Harley told me that’s normal with newbies.
Lance, though? He goes out of his way to try to provoke a reaction from me most days.
The history between Lance and me isn’t a secret, and I’m fairly sure the other workers are taking bets on when and how I’m going to lose my temper.
I tuck my scanner under my arm and keep my hand movements expressionless. ‘I clocked in before seven.’
Lance sneers. ‘Yet you didn’t have a scanner in hand, ready to work. As a consequence, you will be docked an hour’s pay for your late arrival.’
I clench my jaw and will myself not to react. I refuse to give this pathetic fae any more power over me than he already has. Does he really think all the petty, barbed comments, humiliation tactics, and docking my pay are actually going to break me?
When it becomes clear that I’m not going to respond, he heads into his office and the other workers go back to what they were doing.
I check my scanner to remind myself where I’m supposed to be going, then head to the aisle at the top of my list, trying to curb my frustration by taking deep breaths as I walk.
In theory, Harley is right that rebuilding our lives is the best way to show people like Lance that they’ll never truly control us, no matter how much they might want to.
Yet at the same time, would a little light revenge really be so bad?
If Lance hasn’t moved on, why should I?
I just want today to be over. The usual headache I get towards the end of the day arrived at lunchtime, Aire has been especially bitchy, and I could really do without the ‘let’s look through your old sketchbooks’ brotherly bonding time this evening.
Added to that, I just found out that I didn’t win this month’s bonus.
I expected it of course—Harley warned me it wouldn’t happen, no matter how hard I worked—but I really wanted to be the exception to the rule.
I need the extra money so that I can pay Milo back what I owe him, not just cover my share of the rent and bills.
It’s ironic that the one bright spot in my day is the man who got the bonus instead. Dhiren brushes against me as he walks past, giving me a smile over his shoulder. He stops at the far end of the aisle I’m on, searching for the box he needs while shooting me subtle glances.
I smirk back as I scan the containment field of my next box. Once the big green tick appears, I pick up the box and head towards him, sending him a wink. Technically this isn’t the fastest way to the loading bay, but is that really important when there’s flirting to be done?
Our messages to one another have been the highlight of the past few weeks for me, and they’ve made the realities of my life now easier to bear.
He’s fun to message with, replies late at night when I can’t sleep, and the more obvious I am about how much I’m into him, the more he checks me out when he thinks I won’t notice.
If it takes a few more months of flirting before he agrees to go on a date—after I finish up my contract here and we’re no longer colleagues—that just means we’ll have time to really get to know each other first.
I’m distracted from my admiration of Dhiren’s shapely arse by a box adjacent to him. It’s sitting on the top shelf directly behind him, the colour not quite the correct shade of gold. I frown, my steps slowing as the tarnished colour turns a vibrant bronze.
That’s definitely not normal. Shit.
I drop the box I’m carrying and sprint towards him, waving to get his attention, my heart pounding as the containment field turns burnt orange.
He turns, a questioning look on his face and a box in his arms.
‘Down!’ I repeat the frantic sign as the containment field shifts to the orange of a fire so rapidly that I realise I’m not going to make it in time.
His eyes widen. He tosses the box aside and drops to the floor, but it’s not enough. He’s going to be caught up in it.
The second I reach him I dive on top of him, flattening him as the world turns blindingly bright. A powerful surge of white-hot magic explodes over us, causing my scales to erupt all over my skin.