Nice Dragons Finish Last (Heartstrikers) (17 page)

“Well,” he said as the bird settled on his fingers. “Isn’t that interesting?”

The pigeon tilted its head inquisitively, but the green eyed man simply kissed its soft feathers and set the bird down on the bench beside him, freeing his hand to pull a phone out of his pocket. It was an old keyboard model from before the return of magic, a veritable antique without even the most basic AR, but the lack of modern accouterments didn’t seem to bother him. He simply scrolled through the enormous contact list until he reached the Js, selected a name near the bottom, and began to type, humming the bridge of a song that wouldn’t be composed for another ten years as his fingers moved unerringly over keys that had long since been worn blank.

***

“Come on,” Julius muttered, tapping his foot as Lark’s phone rang and rang and rang. When the shaman’s voicemail kicked in, he hung up and started the cycle over. Again.

After ten calls failed to garner even one answer, he was forced to admit defeat. He didn’t know if Lark was deliberately ignoring him or if the shaman was simply too drunk and/or stoned to answer his phone. Both were possible. Honestly, though, he wasn’t even sure why he was bothering. It wasn’t like Lark had given him a bad address on purpose. The shaman had probably just passed on the information Katya had given him, and no dragoness on the run would be stupid enough to give a human her actual location. The real question was, how stupid was Julius for thinking she had?

Pretty stupid, he decided, pacing back and forth on the cracked sidewalk. And dead. Very, very dead. It was almost midnight already. Even if he pushed Ian’s deadline to the absolute limit, he had less than twenty-four hours to find a dragon who didn’t want to be found in the DFZ. He wasn’t sure he could pull that off even with unlimited money. On his current budget, it was downright impossible, but if he didn’t get
something
, he was done for. So what was he going to—

“Julius?”

He stopped pacing with a jerk and looked up to see Marci standing tentatively on the curb a few feet away, her hands clasped in front of her. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You’ve been over here for a while.”

Julius rubbed the back of his neck. He supposed she did deserve an explanation, especially since he wasn’t going to be able to pay her the way things were headed, what with him being dead and all. Then again, who knew? Marci was clever and resourceful. Maybe she could help?

The idea of pulling a human he liked as much as Marci into his problems made Julius feel a little ill, but he didn’t know what else to do. So, with a deep breath, he told her the truth. “I’m in trouble.”

“I figured,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “That parking deck was supposed to be your missing girl, wasn’t it?”

Julius nodded. “If I don’t find her by tomorrow, I…”
will be declared a failure and eaten.
“I won’t get paid.”

“Which means I won’t get paid either,” Marci finished, putting two and two together. “Okay, what are our options?”

He stared at her, astonished. “You’re not mad?”

Marci shrugged. “Hazard of contract work. Sometimes things fall through, and getting mad about it doesn’t do anyone any good. Besides, it’s not like you’re trying to screw me over, right?”

“Of course not,” he said, horrified, which made her grin.

“See? Nothing to be mad about. I’d much rather spend my energy trying to save the job in any case. So, ideas?”

Julius didn’t answer. He was too busy savoring the wonderful astonishment at being treated like a partner instead of an idiot and a failure. “I have several ideas,” he said at last. “But they all require money.”

“Most things do,” she said with a sympathetic sigh. “What’s our operating budget?”

“About two dollars.”

Marci giggled. “Funny. Really, though, what is it?”

Julius shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I wasn’t making a joke.”

She froze, the grin vanishing from her face. “You weren’t?”

He shook his head.

“You don’t have any money?”

He shook his head again.

For several moments, Marci just stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “But,” she got out at last, “you were in Arbor Square.
Everyone
in Arbor Square has money!”

“I was just there to meet my brother to get this job,” Julius said. “Come on, you didn’t really think I belonged in a place like that, did you? I mean,
look
at me.”

He waved his hand at his ratty T-shirt and jeans, and Marci began to sputter. “I thought you were wearing that
ironically!”
she cried.
“You know, one of those ‘I’m wearing comfortable clothes because I’m too cool to care how rich I am’ guys.” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe this. How were you planning to pay me?”

“After my brother paid me,” he said. “I never meant for things to get this bad. This job was supposed to be over at the party!”

Marci flopped against the lamppost with a hopeless sound, and Julius felt all the warmth she’d just given him drain away.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I never intended to mislead you.”

“I know, I know,” she muttered, staring up at the dark. “It’s just…this is always my luck, you know? Only I could bluff my way into one of the most exclusive restaurants in the DFZ and come out with the only client in the whole place who wasn’t loaded.” She shook her head with a bitter sigh before pushing off the streetlight. “Par for the course, I guess. Okay, sorry, pity party over. So how much money do think we’re going to need?”

Julius stared at her. “You’re not leaving?”

She snorted. “Come on. Just because you aren’t actually a secret millionaire doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon you. First, we still have a contract, and second, you kind of saved my
life
. If I left you now, how would I live with myself? That said, of course, I don’t actually have any idea what we’re going to do. As you might have noticed, I haven’t exactly had a lot of luck making quick cash in the DFZ.”

Julius didn’t have any immediate ideas either, but knowing that Marci wasn’t going to throw him over made him more hopeful than he’d felt in years. He was trying to figure out a way to tell her as much that wouldn’t make him sound like a desperate loser when his phone buzzed.

He’d actually forgotten he was holding the thing until it began to vibrate in his hand. For a soaring moment, he thought it was Lark calling him back, but when he glanced down at the AR, it wasn’t a call at all. It was a message from the Unknown Caller.

J,

A little bird told me you could use some help, and since I am of an extremely Helpful Nature, I have sent some your way. No need to thank me, A Good Deed Is Its Own Reward. Also, I already cleaned out your room back home and sold everything to cover the costs. Family first!

Yours etc., B

His face must have looked awful by the end, because Marci’s hands came up in her battle stance. “What?! What’s wrong?”

“My brother is sending me some help,” he said, reading the message again.

“Oh.” Her arms fell back to their natural positions. “That’s nice of him.”

“Nice isn’t the word I’d use,” Julius grumbled. “My brother’s a bit…eccentric. His idea of what’s appropriate can be a little off.” And dangerous, or obnoxious, or both. That said, Bob
had
given him a phone pre-loaded with money and IDs yesterday, which definitely counted as useful. Maybe lightning would strike twice?

He checked his balance, just in case, but it still read two dollars. Not money, then, but what else could Bob have meant by costs? And surely his brother hadn’t been able to sell off
everything
in his room already. Julius had only been gone a day. He glanced back down at the call button. Maybe he should phone his mother’s housekeeper and check?

Before he could do anything, though, an enormous crash echoed through through the dark, making them both jump. It sounded like someone had dropped a dumpster from five stories up. For several seconds, all Julius could hear was the ringing in his ears, but then he caught the unmistakable scrape of claws on asphalt, followed by a loud and horribly familiar shout.

“Julius?”

Oh no, he thought, cringing. No, no,
no
. He was going to
kill
Bob.

“What is that?” Marci said, looking all around.

“The opposite of help,” he growled, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“But—”

“Stay here,” he said again. “Please.”

Marci did not look happy, but she did as he asked, standing right on the edge of the curb as Julius jogged across the street and around the the edge of the parking deck into the alley where he’d heard the crash.

Sure enough, when he rounded the corner, a man was standing under the alley’s lone working orange street light. He was exceptionally tall, almost six and a half feet, with a classically handsome face and military short black hair. He was pulling on a shirt when Julius spotted him, his bulging muscles flexing like he was a model in a protein shake commercial as he tugged the thin, tight cotton over his head. Thankfully, the bottom half of him was already clothed in dark jeans, though he’d probably only put those on first so he’d have somewhere to hang the enormous sword currently sheathed on his belt.

He must have heard Julius coming, because his bright green eyes locked on him as soon as his head was free of his shirt, and he lifted his sculpted chin in greeting. “’Sup?”

Julius covered his face with his hand. “Please,” he groaned. “
Please
tell me you didn’t just fly here.”

“Only from the airport,” the dragon said, leaning down to pull on his socks. “Cab fares in this place are murder.”

He started shoving his feet into a pair of black motorcycle boots next, and Julius dropped his hands with a sigh, wondering why he’d expected anything different.

With shoulders like an orc linebacker and an air of absolute confidence that Julius would never in a million years be able to match, his brother Justin came from opposite end of the Heartstriker gene pool. They shared the family basics—black hair, high cheekbones and, of course, the green eyes—but otherwise they could have been strangers. This was especially odd because Justin and Julius were full brothers, hatched from the same clutch only minutes apart. But where Julius had come out as the runt, Justin had shot straight to top, as evidenced by the sword at his hip.

The black-sheathed blade was a larger version of Chelsie’s, one of five Fangs of the Heartstriker given only to Bethesda’s deadliest weapons. But while Justin’s battle prowess was unquestioned, Julius couldn’t help wondering sometimes if the rest of his brain hadn’t quite caught up yet.

“Justin,” Julius said, as calmly as he could manage. “You can’t just fly around in the DFZ. Do you
want
Chelsie to gut you?”

“She’d have to catch me first,” his brother replied with a smug smile. “You look terrible, by the way.”

Julius decided to ignore that comment. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in China.”

“I was, but then I heard Mother kicked you out, so when Bob sent me a ticket to the DFZ, I thought I’d come lend you a hand.”

Julius’s stomach sank. “You heard about that in China?”

“
Everyone’s
heard about it,” Justin said. “There’s actually a betting pool going for how long you’ll last.” He arched an dark eyebrow. “You know, a little gratitude wouldn’t be out of order. I did just fly halfway around the world to come help you.”

Julius sighed. “Thank you. But—”

“You’re welcome,” Justin said, slapping his hands together. “Now, who are we killing?”

Julius was opening his mouth to say they wouldn’t be killing anyone when he heard soft, quick footsteps in the street behind him, and his blood went cold.
Oh no,
he thought as Justin’s eyes darted to the mouth of the alley. Not
now.