In the morning, when I wake up, I’m all alone.

 

 

19

 

 

SASHA

 

That’s how the next few days seem to go for us.

Every morning, Dakh is gone the moment the sun rises. His mind goes distant all day, and I’m all alone once more. It’s the week of the month that red dragons should be attacking Fort Dallas, but all is quiet here. I think of Fort Dallas, and how it must be right now, with the red dragons attacking over and over. They’ll be quiet for the next few weeks after this. Gold dragon attacks are more sporadic and happen throughout the month. I think they’re drawn to the city, though, because I haven’t seen any dragons since coming out here with Dakh. When I peek outside, there’s nothing but birds chirping and not a hint of ash on the air.

It’s like this is an entirely different land, and it’s a strange sensation. I keep myself busy, though. I finish an entire book of Sudoku, ten crossword puzzles, and start in on a coloring book. I write to Emma. I clean “house” and fill shopping carts with all the food supplies that are still good so I can have them all in one convenient place. I try on new clothes. I read books. I sleep. I bathe.

I’m bored.

I never thought that having a life of relative luxury in the After would mean that I’m miserable, but I’m lonely. Dakh only returns at sundown, and when he does, he’s quiet. He doesn’t want to do more than hug me close and breathe in my scent. His thoughts are closed off, and while he’s polite, things are strained between us.

I don’t know what to do. I feel like the mental bond has broken whatever friendship we had beginning between us. Now everything’s all messed up.

It’s funny. I’m safe and secure, just like I want…but I still feel abandoned.

 

 

DAKH

I have found him.

After days of stalking the human hive, I watch the human below me. He wears the same skins—no, clothing—that many of the others do. He carries a fire spitter. He has dark hair that has been shorn close to his scalp, and a smile that seems cold, even for these strange creatures. He stands by a building and talks to two other men wearing the same clothing. They laugh, but he only smiles.

I hate him on sight. This is the one called Tate. The one who hurt my Sasha.

It takes everything I have not to leap over the barricade and rend him limb from limb. I allow myself a moment of dreaming, my claws curling into the metal I lie upon. In my mind, I bite his arm off and watch with enjoyment as he screams. I will snap his other arm and then both his legs, one at a time. When he is in unimaginable pain, I will take him between my teeth and bite down. Not hard enough to kill. Just hard enough to hurt.

I savor these thoughts. I want him to hurt like he hurt my mate. I want him to suffer. Instead, I must keep him whole.

For now.

Which means I must stalk him. Sasha had no hate in her thoughts for the other humans, and it is because of her that I will not destroy them all. I wish for my mate to be happy above all else, and I know she worries about these other humans in the hive. Soon, I will make a gift of this one to my mate, and she will be pleased. She will worry no longer.

He will never, ever hurt her again. This I vow.

I wait for him to leave the side of the other humans, to walk closer to my hiding spot. The hive is cramped in many places, with the humans’ homes clustered together like piles. There is not much room for a drakoni to maneuver in battle form, so I must lure Tate toward me before I can snatch him into my claws.

I move forward and jump down from the barrier, into the human hive itself. The stink is overwhelming, the smell of unwashed bodies and waste, overpowering. How they can all live together like this in such filth, I do not know. I pace forward and someone pauses in a doorway nearby, then snickers at the sight of me.

Well, I will take laughter over the sirens.

I move forward, slinking between two buildings before the human can realize I am drakoni and not one of them. Up ahead, standing by the other human males is Tate, who has not moved from his spot. I hear his low, flat voice, and the others laugh again. He is telling a story, perhaps. I cannot make out the words, not without my connection to my mate. Sasha. I reach for her mind, but she is safe back in my nest, far away from the hive.

Tate will be coming back with us. I want Sasha to see his death. I want her to realize he can never hurt her again.

I watch and wait, but when the three males remain in their places and show no movement, I grow impatient. I am tired of being away from Sasha and hunting this human. He is within my grasp. I glance around and find a stone on the ground, then throw it at one of the males.

He immediately straightens from his slouch, a scowl on his face. He holds his fire spitter forward and then mutters a stream of garbled syllables at the other two men. Tate nods at him and indicates the alley I crouch in. With a nod, the human comes forward, approaching me.

I sigh in frustration. It is the wrong human. I wait, impatient. The human comes down the alley and then sees me. He cocks his head, looking me up and down, and then calls something to the other ones. He points his fire spitter at me and says something.

I have no time for this nonsense. I grab the human by his head and smash his face against the wall. He slumps to the ground, and his fire spitter falls from his hand. I kick it aside.

“Reynolds?” Tate calls after a moment. When there is no response from the fallen human at my feet, Tate glances at the other human and then moves forward, his fire spitter in hand.

Finally he separates from the pack. I can be finished with this soon. Good. I wait for him to approach me, and when he gets close enough that I can smell his unwashed scent, I cannot stop the grin that spreads across my face. When Tate sees me, I am smiling a cruel smile. His eyes narrow at the sight of me, and he lifts his fire spitter, barking words at me.

Let him bark all he wants. I flick his fire spitter aside with a blow of my hand and am pleased when he yelps in response. I grab him by the throat and my grin grows wider.

I hope he hates flying.

 

 

20

 

 

SASHA

 

I return, my Sasha.

The strong thought rouses me from my lazy afternoon nap. I rub my eyes and sit up, pushing my tangled hair back off my face. “Dakh? Where are you? What time is it?”

It is still daylight. I am returning to you. Come to the front of the nest to meet me.