Warring of Fire (Dragon Born, #3) Read online

  I took a breath, leaves tickling me from every angle. A breeze blew across my skin and I opened my eyes. Far above, tree leaves covered stars. The forest had grown by a factor of three.

  "Felicia." Sven looked down at me, eyes soft.

  I had returned to human form.

  And somewhere in the trees, pops and snaps followed as Dirk did the same.

  I took a breath without pain. Now I felt vulnerable.

  "I think that's you right there," Sven said. "I can't see too well in here. You can, at least." Disappointment hid between his words. Sven wanted to see me laid bare, and a big part of me wanted that. But until I cleared that final secret, I felt I didn't deserve it.

  He handed me another plaid shirt and overalls. I stood, putting them on as he waited, and finished with the boots. We listened as Dirk did the same. Sven had already dropped him some clothes. At last, as I faced Sven who couldn't see too well under the cover of the trees, Dirk staggered through the underbrush to join us, all decked out like a farmer. He held the laptop and the papers with duty.

  "I'm never doing that again," he said.

  I almost laughed. "You tried too hard to fly," I said.

  "How did you do it, Felicia?"

  "Let the air do the work?" I asked. "Really. I'm not sure, but it's like learning how to ride a bike."

  Sven shifted. "We need to look at those papers. Dirk, I'll give you my chest plate. You can stuff everything inside of there."

  I knew why he was changing the subject away from our escape. He didn't want to think about how his father had forsaken his life. Now Sven had no home and no family other than his sister.

  "Where do we go?" Dirk asked. "We could go to my house, but it's a long walk and I am not flying again."

  "Or mine," I said. "You called my name in front of him, Sven. Your father knows it. He has resources and...and that could lead him to my house."

  Sven's jaw fell. "You're right," he said. "It won't take him long to expand the search to your families. If my father's willing to see me die, then he won't even care about your adoptive parents. We gave to get moving, now. We'll look at whatever information we've got later."

  Chapter Seven

  Since I didn't want to lose my clothing again—I was sure my old clothes were burning on top of the Manager's House or turned to ash by now—we found a vehicle instead. Sven said the Slayers would hunt the area around Olivia for certain, searching for where we'd landed, and that might buy our families some time. Sven led us to the road though I could see it the moment we left the trees. It was a farm road with a few pickups parked on the dirt access. It would work. Sven also pointed out that after our stunt, the Slayers might expect us to fly again.

  Olivia was now a war zone.

  "I don't know how to hot wire anything," I said.

  "Don't look at me," Dirk said, climbing into the back. "We might have to walk back into town."

  "We need to," Sven said. "Trust me. I know stuff about Slayer tactics. They'll fan out, searching around town in the direction you flew. Best chance of getting past them is to drive."

  I believed him. I searched the truck, opening the glove compartment just for the heck of it—

  —and the keys fell out.

  "Are you serious?" Sven asked, picking them off the floor.

  "Well, this is a vehicle in the middle of nowhere," I said. "Maybe the farmer forgot their keys at the house too many time and got sick of walking back and forth. We're in luck." He shuffled into the driver's seat and smiled me, filling me with a happy warmth. "You can drive. This vehicle will blend right in."

  The truck started with a loud rumble that said it needed a new exhaust. But that was no matter. Farm trucks were supposed to be out and about this early in the morning. I knew. Then I warned Dirk to stay down in the truck bed, feeling bad he had to ride back there.

  Sven drove us down the access road and onto a dirt road. So far, I spotted no human bodies in the surrounding darkness.

  Until we hit Water Road.

  Sven kept a constant speed, not too fast and not too slow, as we approached the Water Company. The Company's lights were still off except for the emergency ones, and I spotted a few employees in the parking lot, giving off faint red glows. None of them gave us a second look. They eyed the smoke rising from the Manager's House.

  And the Manager's House had a partial collapsed roof. It smoldered from the remains of the fire that had ripped through the top floor. And yet there were no police or fire department personnel standing around it, investigating. Somehow, Mr. Olsen had turned them away after they'd put out the flames. I saw moisture around the house, dripping from the gutters, but no authorities remained. It wasn't right.

  "Are you sure about the Slayers fanning out?" I asked Sven. "I don't see...oh, crap."

  On the road ahead, two figures stood in the weeds, hidden to everything except for my heat vision. Being warmer than the plants, they stuck out, grayish red light shining through the blades of grass and the flowers.

  "You see them?" Sven asked, accent returning. He reached for the sword he'd placed beside his legs. But the weapon would do no good in here and against two trained Slayers.

  "They're on either side of the road," I said.

  Sven took his foot off the gas for a precious second. The two figures moved to stand closer to the road. The headlights landed on them. Chest plates reflected headlights and crossbows rose. The Wiglaf Society had taken Olivia law into their hands.

  "Hold on!" Sven shouted, stomping the gas.

  The truck roared as it continued forward. We hit a pothole and Dirk shouted in the back. I ducked. Sven said nothing. I held my breath, waiting for arrows to click and strike the truck, but none came.

  Sven breathed out. "We left them behind. But if we don't hurry, they might follow. The Slayers might check everyone going in and out of town. They'll have Gems for certain. And if they were looking, they saw them glowing as we passed."

  I'd forgotten about that. "We have to get to my house and get everyone out of there," I say.

  "What if Adler's there?" Sven asked.

  I hated the thought of taking Sven into danger. He wasn't even a Slayer anymore. But Adler wouldn't believe that. She was as rigid as Mr. Olsen.

  "I don't know," I said. "She might be, but the Machers might help if she is. I'm sure they're still with my parents, trying to convince her not to erase their memories."

  "They could be," I said.

  "Are Slayers guarding the town?" Dirk asked, poking his head through the open back window.

  "Yes," I said as we turned through the intersection to downtown. "We have to evade them. They'll know we're the ones they're looking for."

  Dirk swore and laid back down in the truck bed. I thought of the BMW's and the Mercedes they'd have at their disposal. Those motors would outperform the one in this rickety old truck, hands down. Sven seemed to realize this and stepped on the gas again, speeding through downtown. I adjusted the baggy overalls and the plaid shirt to calm my mind. I knew how deadly Slayers could be.

  "We have to get my sister and get out of Olivia," Sven said. "Even the den won't stay safe now."

  "Adler and the others won't abandon it," I said.

  "I know they won't. But I fear what will happen if that treasure disappears into the Society's hands," Sven said, facing me. His blue eyes were wide with terror. "This is the last big hoard in the world, correct?"

  "That's what I heard."

  "Go!" Dirk shouted.

  I looked back to see headlights turning onto Main Street. Giving off heat, they were blinding at first, but then I made out the form of a black, shining Mercedes with tinted windows. The Slayers were coming after us.

  Sven swore. "Felicia, we need another storm."

  Guilt hugged my gut, making me want to retch. I'd spent my whole life dreaming about getting out of Olivia, but conjuring up another storm in downtown felt wrong. I'd seen the damage of the other one. And with Dirk beside me, we might do worse. But we had to shake t
his car. It was catching up as Sven revved the truck to its max, sailing for the intersection that led to Olive Road.

  Dirk reached through the window and grasped my hand as I turned in my seat. I begged the sky to open and blind the Slayers. The stars above vanished as it obeyed and rain poured down, forming moving curtains that distorted the headlights. But the Mercedes kept coming.

  And the rain roared as it poured against the truck, too. Sven had to brake. The brakes squealed, threatening to lock.

  "I can't see!" Sven shouted.

  "Keep going!" I yelled as he turned the corner with a series of horrible clicks. I concentrated and the wind kicked up. "Don't stop. We'll lose them and—"

  A massive whoosh followed from above and the rain stopped for a second as if something had blocked it. I thought my magic had sputtered out, but then I noticed the massive, winged shape leaping from the top of Slate's Bank and sailing for the Mercedes. Its headlights illuminated purple scales and a light underbelly of a dragon before it landed on the car, stopping it and shattering glass. Her spiny tail bashed into a dark streetlight.

  "Whoa!" Dirk shouted. "I didn't think that would happen!"

  "It's Adler!" I slapped Sven on the arm, begging him to hurry. But he already drove around the corner, putting the Bank between us and Adler's ambush. The car's brakes squealed as rain continued to pour. A crashing sound followed. A growl, and another squeal as she opened the car like a tin can.

  And the rain drowned out the rest.

  "I'm going. I'm going," Sven said, picking up speed as the rain thinned. Trees and weeds showed up behind the blur of the windshield. "We're almost there. Are you sure it was Adler?"

  "She must have been lying in wait, waiting for Slayers," I said. "She came from the top of the bank." I shuddered as I thought of what might have happened had Sven been traveling through downtown alone. Adler still couldn't come near me. But was it possible she would if she didn't know I was there?

  "Well, it's lucky she was there," Sven said. His lips moved like he wanted to say something, but he held it in.

  "I'm soaked," Dirk said. "And I'm in these crappy overalls."

  We'd have to explain that to our parents. And we'd have to get out the papers and go over them together. My parents would freak when they thought about why I wasn't in the clothes I'd been wearing earlier that night and not just because Sven was in the picture. They'd know what I'd become and what I'd done to the Manager's House.

  The Slayers had enough power to turn the fire department away.

  That scared me. Perhaps Mr. Olsen didn't want to risk the authorities finding out about his operations.

  Sven held my hand with his free one, driving with his left. He slowed and took a deep breath, curling his fingers around mine. A tingle raced over my skin and I craved more of his touch. I wanted this war to end so we could hold on to each other without the threat of death. Anger rose inside me again, wanting to lash out at Adler and Mr. Olsen. If they wanted to fight why didn't they find an arena somewhere?

  Sven pulled into the driveway of my house. The truck's clock said it was three thirty in the morning. And the lights were still on inside. My parents had fired up the generator. Almost all of us out in the country had them.

  "Okay," Sven said, facing Dirk. "How did everything survive inside the chestplate? We should have kept the laptop and papers up here."

  "Well, I did my duty," Dirk said, eyeing our interlocked hands. "Neither got soaked. When it started raining, I leaned over to keep the water off them both. Now I think we should hide this truck around back, go inside, and see what all of this says."

  Chapter Eight

  Mom and Dad had gone to bed. They needed it, according to the Machers, who were staying with them.

  "But Mr. Olsen knows my name," I said. "He could track that down and find this place. We have to move them."

  "Adler is watching downtown. If the Slayers come this way, they will have to go past her," Mrs. Macher said. "She will warn us before they get here and then stall them. I made sure your parents have overnight bags packed in case they need to leave."

  That made me feel better. "Good to know," I said. "But we can't be too careful." I didn't have the heart to tell her about Adler's vicious attack.

  Then Dirk, shaking, went to the kitchen table and placed Mr. Olsen's laptop and the folder of stolen documents on it. And to my shock, he explained to his parents what had happened. Including us shifting back and having to put on these stupid overalls. I blushed as the Machers listened to their son. He finished with, "we should buy more clothes. I've wrecked two pairs of jeans. And that was my gaming shirt!"

  Leave it to Dirk to make things a little more lighthearted. I smiled. At least he was coming around to his parents and had stopped being angry at them—for now. More important things beckoned.

  Mr. Macher wrinkled his mustache. "You did well for your first flight," he said as if talking about riding a bike. "You stayed airborne."

  "They were shooting arrows at me. It motivated me."

  Mrs. Macher paced. "Don't be putting yourself in danger like that."

  "Our son's mature now," Mr. Macher said. "It's part of who we are. No dragon can avoid danger. Not anymore." Darkness settled over the room as he checked out the window, parting the curtains.

  "I think we evaded them," Sven said. "Adler—"

  "Would have handled the Slayers chasing you," Mrs. Macher said.

  The screeching of tearing metal came back to my mind, and I cringed. Adler wouldn't leave bodies. Not in a small town and not even with her mind powers. "I don't know how many were in the car," I said.

  "Slayers sometimes work in pairs," Mr. Macher explained. "They don't like to all be together at once in case of an ambush."

  "They were at the Manager's House," I said, tightening my grip on Sven's hand. "And I burned it down."

  "They gave you no choice," Mr. Macher said, meeting my gaze. He gave off harshness. Experience. "Those people are not kind to anyone. They even treat other humans terribly. Look at Sven."

  Sven shifted. He turned his eyes down to study the floor. Yes, Dirk had told his parents about what a pile of crap Sven's father was.

  "We've established that," I said. Sven might be strong. Confident. Able. But he still had vulnerabilities just like the rest of us. "We need to look at these files while my parents are sleeping. They're not taking this well."

  Mrs. Macher placed her hand on my back. "They'll come around. The two of them didn't want to lose their little girl."

  "They haven't." Now I was leaping into danger repeatedly, putting them through their worst nightmare—a nightmare they knew was inevitable. They had lost their little girl. "You didn't put them to sleep, did you?"

  "No, but a few glasses of wine might have helped," Mr. Macher said. "They needed to calm their nerves."

  I nodded and opened the official-looking laptop. While I did that, I listened for sirens, but none came from town. Whatever was happening, the Slayers were keeping it quiet. Covert. They were worse liars than I could ever be.

  And how could a dragon attack in a town not attract attention?

  The laptop fired up right away. We gathered around it. Sven breathed out. Maybe it was relief that the topic had changed from his father. I sensed he didn't want to show weakness, not in front of anyone. It was a guy thing. I knew how that felt to a degree.

  Mr. Olsen's computer had a pair of crossed swords for the background art and they were both Beowulf's blade. I shuddered at the sight.

  And then the password prompt box came up.

  Dirk groaned. "We all knew this was coming. Knowing someone like Mr. Olsen, he must have extra security measures on this thing. Fail to type the right password a few times, and the computer locks and wipes everything on the hard drive."

  "I hope not," Sven said. "But you'd never know." We searched the papers next. There were a lot of documents about business dealings with everyone from power companies to banks to the Abnormal Treatment Centers, who claimed to tre
at Abnormals and cure them of their conditions. As if that could ever happen. On one paper, Mr. Olsen had jotted down plenty of strings of random keyboard characters—no doubt passwords that no one could guess.

  "This might be it," Sven said. "That's my—that's his writing."

  Sven wouldn't call him Father anymore.

  He had no family now.

  I wrapped my arm around his strong waist, pulling him close.

  Sven leaned on my shoulder as Dirk traced his finger down the line of passwords to the one on the bottom. "Let's try this one," he said. "It must be the newest. It looks as if he changes his password every week."

  "Probably," Sven said.

  I could feel his pulse racing. I knew what was going through his head and it was his mother. She could be alive. Dead. He might find out an answer to a burning question he had all his life.

  Dirk typed the password, careful to put certain letters in caps as they were on the paper. Mr. Olsen had an immaculate, severe, blocky handwriting. Once finished, Dirk clicked OK, and the box told us to please wait.

  "We're in!" Dirk shouted. "I'm glad we thought to grab these papers, or we would have hit a wall right here. There aren't a lot of hackers for hire here in Olivia." He faced his parents. "Unless that's a dragon power?"

  Mr. Macher laughed. "Not even close. That's a human specialty."

  "We need the stolen treasure," I said. "And we need to get your sister out of the underground and figure out what to do with her."

  "We might want to wait," Sven said. "Steve's with her."

  I trusted Steve, but we needed Sofia and her fighting skills on our side. Perhaps telling her that her father didn't want to bother rescuing her would get her to stop holding onto her dragon slaying goals. Or it would make her even worse. Holding Sven tighter and giving him a reassuring squeeze, I said, "We should move her to the surface and see if we can get her to come to our side. Worst-case scenario, we have people who can guard her."