Discount Armageddon
Page 54

“And then there were no more dragons, and they just sort of vanished into the human population. You can’t hunt what you can’t find. They fell off the radar and stopped being a going concern,” I said, concluding his little history lesson.
Dominic nodded mutely.
“Okay, so here’s one of the pieces we’ve been missing all this time. The reason alchemists were always so damn hot to get their hands on dragon blood? It’s a natural mutagen. I mean, we’re talking some Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles-level crap here.” Dominic turned, giving me a blank look. I sighed. “Dragon blood alters human DNA if it’s ingested. That’s why people disappeared when they got too close to a dragon’s lair. If the dragon caught them, and if they were too much of a danger to release, it … changed them. That way it didn’t have to kill them, but they couldn’t go running off to tell the local villagers where the lair was.”
A look of slow horror swept over Dominic’s face, washing away all the regret and understanding—and yes, the affection—as it passed. “You’re saying that those creatures we fought … those creatures used to be men?”
“Yes, but the dragon’s still sleeping. I mean, the dragon’s not the one that’s doing this. Whatever fucked-up snake cult is trying to wake the dragon up—almost certainly a human snake cult, snake cults are pretty much always human, the assholes—they’re the ones feeding dragon blood to humans. They’re the ones creating servitors, and telling them where to go, what to do. The dragon’s just sleeping. It isn’t doing anything wrong.”
“Its existence is wrong,” Dominic spat, sliding out of the bed. I’d been too busy before to really appreciate the symmetry of his naked body, scars and all. He was gorgeous, possibly the most gorgeous man I’d ever had the pleasure of having my way with.
Pity he was turning out to be a total asshole.
I straightened, locking my shoulders like I was preparing to tango for my life, and glared at him. The power of my glare was somewhat diminished by the fact that I wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. Fortunately, I’ve had a lot of practice looking fierce while practically nude; this was just taking it to the championship level. “Its existence is the result of evolutionary pressures, the same as yours. Or do you want to start the argument against humanity? Because right now, you’re offering one hell of an example in the ‘negatives’ column.”
“You don’t understand what you’re talking about!”
If he’d wanted to make me mad, that was the way to do it. “Why? Because I didn’t have the benefit of all your precious Covenant training? Your resources? Your centuries of doing it all exactly the same way every time?”
“Yes!”
“Even when the way you’ve been doing it is wrong?” My voice peaked on the last word, nearly breaking.
Dominic looked at me impassively, somehow managing to look dignified, even though he was just as naked as I was. In that moment, I realized how different we really were. We could fight together, we could bleed together, but in the end, he would always be Covenant, raised to view anything that wasn’t human as a danger to be exterminated, while I…
I would always be a Price. Nothing I could ever do in my life, from ballroom dancing to poorly-considered trysts with cute Covenant men, was going to change that. His monsters were my family, and that was a chasm I didn’t think either of us was capable of bridging.
He must have seen the same reality reflected in my expression. Something that looked like regret flickered in his eyes before he turned his back on me, bending to begin gathering his discarded weaponry. “This was a mistake,” he said quietly. “This should not have happened.”
I was glad he was facing away from me. It kept him from seeing the way I flinched when his words struck home. “As long as we’re in agreement about that,” I said, keeping my shoulders locked and my chin lifted. All I had to do was pretend that it was another competition, another stupid cattle call where I had to keep that brave face turned toward the audience until the winners were announced. “Sometimes things can get a little confused after a big fight. You make decisions you didn’t actually intend to make, and then you can’t take them back.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” said Dominic, grabbing his trousers and pulling them roughly on before he turned to face me again. “I appreciate your assistance in obtaining more information regarding this threat, and apologize if I have misled you in any way.”
“Oh, is that what the boys are calling it these days?” I regretted the jeering tone of my words as soon as they were out of my mouth, but there was no way to call them back. Maybe it was better that way. It’s not like the women of my family can exactly be said to respond reasonably when men from the Covenant get involved, and it was becoming increasingly clear what the math of this situation really was: Dominic, or the dragon. My survival wasn’t really part of the primary equation, as Sarah would have said.
There was just no way all three of us were walking out of this alive.
Dominic yanked his shirt on, barely covering the holster buckled around his waist. “I believe we’re done here.”
“I believe you’re right.” I grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around myself with as much dignity as I could muster before marching to the bedroom door and wrenching it open. Dominic gave me a withering look and stalked out into the hall, only to be confronted with a sea of silent Aeslin mice watching him with black, unblinking oil-drop eyes. He stopped dead, staring back.
I stepped out of the bedroom behind him, and sighed. “Tell the mice you’re leaving now, Dominic. It’s the only way to make them go away.”
“How do I…?” He waved his hands helplessly.
The icy core of anger in my chest thawed a little. It was impossible to give serious thought to pitching him out the kitchen window when he was so clearly baffled by the mice. Still tempting, just less so. “They speak English. Tell them you’re leaving.”
“Ah.” He cleared his throat before addressing the rodent throng: “I will be going now. Thank you for your hospitality.”
“At least the man can be polite to my mice,” I muttered, pushing past him to the front door as the mice scampered back to their business, only the occasional cry of “Hail!” marking their retreat. I paused with my hand on the doorknob, a thought striking me. “By the way, I realize that Aeslin mice may not fit your high standards for what does or does not ‘deserve’ to live, but I swear, if you come back here, if you hurt them—”