30. Chapter Thirty
Huracio’s screams echo into the night. I’m betting he regrets living isolated right about now. Anywhere else, neighbors would’ve arrived, calling for officials. Instead, no one comes.
The smell of charred dick enters my nostrils. It’s both the worst and best scent. It’s the best because of the way Kyrielle’s eyes dance with the reflection of dick-burning flames.
She’s magnificent.
It’s virtually impossible for me to feel bad for the Forest Sprite, mainly because Dragons are as dedicated to revenge as they are to respect. If she’d asked, I would’ve given Kyrielle a dozen imaginative scenarios that would’ve lasted for hours.
But as his dick burns off and snot bubbles in his clogged nostrils, I know this is a suitable outcome.
Kyrielle stands, glowing from the inside, with a satisfied smirk as she admires her handiwork. She glances at me and flicks her hand. I spit his legs out, licking his blood off my leathery lips with a forked tongue.
The stunning Fire Sprite turns to face me, beaming. Not a hint of remorse. Putting hands on her hips, she says, “Now what should we do?”
Are you asking if we should find someone else to maim, or what we should do with this specific body?
Her head tilts back, exposing the column of her throat in a loud laugh. “Both?” She frowns, looking at the passed out body at her feet. “He could report us if we leave him alive.”
He could.
Kyrielle narrows her flaming irises at me. “How opposed are you to murder?”
In theory or in this specific moment?
“Both?”
In theory, it’s not a good idea. Legally messy when done incorrectly, and often fueled by misguided principles or beliefs.
“In this specific moment?”
I want to do whatever makes you happy.
“So you won’t care if we dump him off the edge?”
I will care.
Kyrielle frowns. “But you—”
I will care because the body will still be too close. It’s wiser to carry it further away and deposit it elsewhere.
She hums, looking down at Huracio again. “We could burn him to ash?”
Probably wisest. Would you like me to do it?
My heart grows in size when she dazzles me with a brilliant smile. “Sure, unless you want me to have all the fun?”
I definitely want you to always enjoy yourself, I promise, delighted by her playful attitude. Who knew she was so genuinely bloodthirsty? But in this particular circumstance, I wouldn’t mind taking part in a team building activity.
Kyrielle trails a hand from my snout to my neck, stopping behind the frill of horns. Shivers shake my scales at the touch. In the corner of my eye, I see her motion. “Well, then, by all means. Fry him up.”
I snort out smoke in amusement. It’s been so long since I’ve activated my Fyre.
Reaching deep inside myself, I connect with the well of flame always resting inside me.
The ground glows orange as it heats. Inhaling deeply, the muscles in my throat contract and realign, allowing the everflame of Fyre to spew from my maw.
Huracio doesn’t even know what’s happening. One second, he’s passed out. The next, charred grass and ashes symbolize his wasted existence.
A better person might feel bad.
I’m not a better person.
Kyrielle runs her hand along my neck. I lean into the touch, letting out a gravely purr. It feels like heaven. She giggles. “Oh, you like that?”
Yes.
She gives me a gentle pat. “I’m going to grab Janeeka’s items. Do you want to stay out here to keep watch?”
I’m uneasy about letting her go into the house alone, but if there were anyone else inside, they'd've shown up by now. I can do that, if you want.
“I’ll be back real quick,” she promises.
The scent of vanilla calms my nerves and, to my surprise, as she walks past my snout, she gives it the softest kiss.
I watch her step into the ruined house, wholly disoriented.
My broken bone throbs, but I can ignore it well enough.
There’s been far worse delivered, and it will heal within the hour.
This evening turned into nothing expected, but something tells me that being around Kyrielle means that’ll happen more often than not.
***
Kyrielle’s gone for no more than ten minutes, returning with a black duffle bag. She huffs, wiping away damp hair stuck to her forehead. “This should be it. If she needs anything else, I’ll just buy it for her.”
Get on, and I’ll carry it.
“You sure?”
I let out a small growl. Do not insult me.
“Touchy, touchy,” she teases. “Okay, Mr. Gleanscale, carry the luggage like a good little beastie.”
My growl intensifies and I snake my neck to look her square in the eye. You do understand that in this form, I’m infinitely more powerful. Like, truly infinite? As in I never tire and have access to all weather-related elements?
Kyrielle smirks as she flutters to sit on my neck again. “Pride isn’t an admirable quality.”
Grabbing the duffle bag with a claw, I give my wings a hard flap and launch us into the air. Do not confuse pride with confidence. Do not mistake my kindness for softness.
“I would never,” she says, sounding serious. I surround her with a wall of air and head back toward the homeless shelter.
After a few minutes of peaceful quiet, I ask, You okay?
One of her fingers trails the shape of a scale as she says, “I’m not sure, actually. Tonight wasn’t intended to be about murder, you know.”
You mean this isn’t normal for you? I tease.
She lets out a bitter laugh. “Believe it or not, it’s my first murder.”
Me, too.
“You don’t care?”
Not in the slightest. He hurt you and was going to continue hurting you. He hurt me would have probably killed me. Honestly, it’s a shame no one has done it before tonight.
“So you don’t judge me?” Her voice is full of concern and maybe a little insecurity.
I will never judge you.
Her warm palm presses against my head, rubbing it slowly. “I’ll never judge you either, Trinte.”
And for the first time, I might believe her.
It’s late, with the moons high in the sky, by the time we land. I shift and carry the duffle bag in one hand. She holds the other, intertwining our fingers so naturally it’s like we were born into this world doing it. I keep glancing down, struggling to process the gentle affection.
Sieve’s sitting at the same table, looking over paperwork. The rest of the building is quiet, minus a wailing baby somewhere.
He frowns deeply. “Why in the twelve Heavens do you both look like you just went to battle?”
Kyrielle and I exchange glances. I don’t know what I look like, but she’s covered in grass, dirt, ash, and blood.
She gives Sieve a sheepish grin. “Is plausible deniability a good enough excuse?”
Sieve sighs. “Yes. Who is the bag for?”
“Janeeka.”
Understanding appears to dawn, and he motions with a hand impatiently. “I’ll make sure she receives it in the morning.”
I’m relieved to know he’s not going to make a big deal out of it. Which means this isn’t the first time she’s shown up looking like a mess. Kyrielle deposits it on the table with a loud thump. “Let her know everything is taken care of.”
Sieve narrows his bright, wrinkled eyes. “Plausible deniability, Kyrielle. Plausible.”
“What?” she says it so innocently; I crack a smile. “I could be discussing watering her plants, Sieve. What were you thinking of?”
The old man shakes his head. “I’m thinking it’s late and the two of you should head home for a shower.”
“Yes, sir,” Kyrielle grins. “See you in a couple of days.”
He waves her away with an exhausted flip of his hand. “Fly safe, you two. It was nice to meet you, Trinte.”
“You, too.”
I follow Kyrielle outside. When the front door closes behind us, she turns to face me. She brushes a strand of orange hair out of her face. “Well, that was certainly more exciting than expected. Thanks for tagging along.”
I step close enough to inhale her scent of vanilla. “Do you go to those things alone a lot?”
My anger grows when she nods. “I mean, yeah. Out of everyone here, I’m the most qualified.”
My disapproving growl comes out low. “You’re never doing that alone ever again.”
She does a double-take, scrunching her nose in disgust. “Excuse you?”
When I narrow the gap between us until the heat of our bodies mingles without touching, I rub a thumb against a smear of ash on her cheek.
In a low voice, I say, “What I mean to say is that I’ll go with you next time. You could’ve died tonight if I hadn’t been there.”
“But—”
“No buts.” Giving her the most serious look I’ll probably ever deliver, I say, “You’re taking me with you. I’ll sit on the grass like a lawn ornament if you want, but you’re going to call me next time. Understood?”
My fingers slide to behind her head, where the ponytail swings. Deftly wrapping it around my wrist, I give it the tiniest of tugs. She inhales, lips parting in surprise. Like it did all those months ago.
When she doesn’t respond, I give the ponytail another firm tug. Her body jerks forward, flushing her chest against my stomach. I stifle a groan, unfortunately desperate for so much more. This entire evening has been an exercise in being objective; to see what Kyrielle really is all about.
Bringing my mouth to her ear, just how she likes, I let my voice rumble against her skin. “Am I understood?”
She swallows hard, then rasps out, “Yes.”
I loosen my grip on her hair. The willpower required to not kiss her is astounding. Releasing a shuddering breath, trying not to make this moment into anything more intense, I ask, “Do you need a ride home?”
Kyrielle looks at me with a dazed expression. “Huh? What?”
My grin is so easy, it’s almost unfamiliar. “Home. Do you need a ride home?”
I’m certain if the sun were out, I’d see her cheeks pinken. “Um, yeah. Actually. Since you apparently don’t get tired or anything.”
“This is true. Don’t forget it.” When I wink at her, Kyrielle looks away, her cheek twitching with a suppressed smile. Breaking the tension, I swing an arm over her shoulders. “Come on, Firefly. Let’s get you home.”