Dragon's Claim: A Monster Brides Romance, page 3
“Results don’t justify methods!” Vega slammed his hand on the table, scattering papers. “I don’t assign stupid fucking busywork, Gerru. I give important shit to people who can handle it. And you just proved that you can’t!”
Don’t argue. You need to stay on this team. But Lilis had passed the point of listening to wise inner voices. “Sir, that’s not—”
“Why do you think I put four of you on the trenches?”
She managed to keep from rolling her eyes at such a stupid question, but only barely. “To keep the partners together and make it less likely to lose anyone else.”
“Wrong again, Gerru. This is why you’re not paid to think! Carter’s report wasn’t a surprise to me. We’d heard there were no safe paths from the south side. Your actual job was to keep the fire in check on your end so that anyone who went in had a better chance of coming out alive. It took Shepherd, Clark, and Ellis an extra hour to clear what I wanted because they were a fucking man down without you!”
Lilis opened her mouth to argue, then shut it again.
“Did any part of you even think about that? Or were you blinded by the shiny medal you thought you’d get for rescuing a teammate?”
Lilis bristled. “That’s not why I went for him.”
“Oh no?” Vega lifted one mocking eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”
Her gaze drifted to a poster above Vega’s head that read, “If you see something, say something,” with two disembodied eyes open wide. The eyes creeped out every last person in the station, Lilis included.
But it gave her an idea.
“I was brought up with the philosophy that if you can do something, you take action. And that seems to be the motto around here.”
“And just how the hell did you know you could help Hoyt? You got lucky, Gerru. And my team doesn’t need luck. I need people who do what they’re supposed to. Besides”—Vega scowled and nodded his head backward at the poster—“that’s not at all what that disturbing piece of shit says.”
Another firefighter Lilis didn’t recognize, a white man with shaggy light brown hair and a tattoo of an hourglass on one arm, chose that moment to enter the bathroom. He didn’t so much as glance at Lilis or Vega before sealing himself in the other stall, whistling “Waterfalls” by TLC.
“We function as a team, Gerru.” Vega raised his voice to talk over the sounds coming from the other stall. “And three of your teammates spent an extra hour on labor when they could have been helping others. Because you weren’t there. You were off somewhere else on your own.”
Lilis deflated. “Sorry, sir.”
“Not sorry enough. If I can’t trust you to do what I fucking tell you to do, then I don’t know everyone is safe. I’m working blind. I refuse to work blind.” He took a deep breath. “After today, I should boot your ass off my team. But your contact at the NIFC spoke highly of you, and I believe in second chances. I’m keeping you active. For now.”
Lilis clasped her hands, bending over marginally to appear deferential. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t make me regret it, Gerru. But if even one of your bootstraps is done in a way I don’t like, you’re gone. Are we clear?”
It took every last ounce of self-control not to tell him to shove his bootstraps so far up his ass he could buckle his tonsils, but she managed. “Yes, sir.”
At the end of the day, he was right. She’d chosen to insert herself among a group of humans, almost all of whom had no idea a dragon demon like her could even exist. And the only one who did know had deliberately drawn other demons to the region. She didn’t have proof yet. She couldn’t accuse any of them of the recent murders of several demons. But the Flame Jumper patch in her pocket—angel wings on fire with crossed axes in the middle—which she’d pulled out of the paws of a dead chimera, kept her focused on finding the bastard.
Much as she hated most other demons, she refused to let anyone target them for no reason. And if she managed to keep a few innocent humans from becoming collateral damage, even better.
But her actions had put some of those same humans at risk. Now she had to play nicely if she wanted to stay and actually protect them.
“Good.” Vega pointed to the door. “The fire is under control across most of the area. We’re debriefing tomorrow’s responsibilities in fifteen. I’ll see you there.”
“Sir, I was hoping to go for a run. I could use a little—”
“Use the gym.”
Lilis blanched. Had he really just called that pile of weights of random poundage behind the station a gym? More like a tetanus playground. “Sir, all due respect, you can’t keep me during my time off.”
“It’s not time off when there’s a briefing. You don’t leave the fire house until then. Consider that your first order. Do we already have a problem?”
Lilis ground her teeth. “No sir.” She stood, accidentally jostling Vega’s table. The toilet under him began running water, and he reached one hand behind him to jiggle the handle.
The other firefighter exited his stall to use the sink. He’d switched his tune to “Another One Bites the Dust.” Lilis growled, making very sure not to slam the door on the way out.
When I find the person responsible for this, I’m going to barbecue them.
Behind the building, standing among the weights, Lilis closed her eyes and stretched. The full body ache that came with spending too much time as a human squeezed her, threatening to push her past her limits. It had been far, far too long since she’d been able to spread her wings and soar. Through the smoke and the embers, the sparks and the flames, her home. Her partial shift earlier when she’d been looking for Hoyt had been more of a tease, leaving her itchy and twitchy.
Which is probably why Simon had thought she was going through drug withdrawal.
The nurse. Not Simon. No need for first names, no matter how easily and annoyingly they popped into her brain.
Deep brown eyes, thick black lashes, a healer with a sense of humor. Gods, she had a type, didn’t she?
Nope, nope. Steer clear of the humans if you don’t want your heart broken again. Distance would save him, too. Her lovers never lived long lives.
Think about his stupid pickup lines. Do I know you from somewhere? Seriously?
She lifted her arms over her head and bent forward, wrapping her arms behind her straight legs, stretching her limbs to their limit, trying to keep herself sated in this body.
A breeze blew away the cool, crisp air of the Barrens, bringing the enticing woodsmoke of the raging fire. Lillis inhaled deeply, closing her eyes in sheer pleasure. Her fingers twitched, and her joints slid into new positions.
Lilis gasped and quickly pulled herself back from the shift. Later, she promised herself and stomped back inside.
A seat opened up on one of the couches, and Lilis flopped unceremoniously into it.
Focus. Do the briefing, slip out at night when half the team’s asleep. Maybe you can catch a quick run on the dying flames and enjoy what’s left of the fire.
Vega walked into the center of the room, stuck his fingers in his mouth, and whistled shrilly. Silence sliced across the room.
“Listen up, everyone. I just got off the phone with the local forest crew, and it’s bad. The fire has restarted in several areas we had contained when we left it tonight.”
4
Simon toppled face-first into his beloved pillow without bothering to pull back the blanket. After a few half-hearted kicks, his shoes fell to the floor with dull thumps, and he moaned with the carnal pleasure of that first horizontal moment in bed after so long away.
His brain raced, offering up random thoughts it considered important after so long in use. Class in eight hours. Gotta do the reading for it. Test next week. Avocados on the counter from the farmer’s market. Might have already gone bad. The full, pink lips of Patient Twelve. Tuition due Tuesday. Find out how much the late fee is. More med school pamphlets in the mail.
Sleep lulled him into the fog of early dreams, where the walls of his bedroom blended into hospital rooms and pine trees from the forest currently on fire. In his mind’s eye, he watched his annoying Patient Twelve from the night before dancing through a moonlit field full of white flowers, black hair flowing around her, and green eyes shining in the darkness.
The repetitive dinging of chimes with buzzing punched through the image.
He turned his head in the other direction and groaned. “No.”
Despite his demand, his phone obstinately continued ringing. He felt for it, knocking some gauze, several unused rubber gloves, his clock, scissors, and a penlight to the floor. An ominous rolling noise brought his hand to the floor to skim over the wood. “Please don’t roll into the floor crack like the other one,” he begged as the jingling tone covered any audible clue to the penlight’s fate. With a grunt, he found his stupid phone and unlocked it.
“Mm?” he managed into the receiver.
“Hai shui ne?” An angry woman’s voice filled his ear. “Ni zuo tian zen me bu hui dian hua?”
Simon stifled a second groan. “Hi, Grandma.”
“Don’t ‘hi Grandma’ me, young man. Are you still in bed? It’s almost eight. You should be up by now.”
Simon rolled over and rubbed his face. “I was up, Grandma. All night.” He yawned. “This is the first chance I’ve had to sleep since—”
“And what were you doing instead of calling me?” Her comments steamrolled right over his half of the conversation. She’d clearly practiced ahead of time, and Simon started counting to ten for patience. One, two—
“When you make a promise, you should keep it, not be out with friends.”
Three. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call last night. Most of the people from the fire came to our hospital, and they called me back for a second shift.”
“Don’t complain to me now about not getting enough sleep. If you’d stayed in school full time to become a doctor, you wouldn’t have to listen to other people.”
Simon’s temper spiked, and he ground his teeth. “I didn’t switch to part-time because I got bored, Grandma. I did it because you and Grandpa stopped paying my tuition when you heard what I actually want to do with my life.”
“Nursing is not a respectable career. You’re just lazy. That’s why you don’t speak Chinese. You refuse to honor your parents properly. If they were here right now, they’d be ashamed.”
“They’re the reason I don’t speak Chinese!” Simon bolted upright, instantly regretting the energy expenditure. He flopped right back down, burying his head in his pillow. “Mom and Dad were proud of me when they were alive, and they’d be proud of me now.” He hated how small his voice came out, how easily he reverted to sounding like his ten-year-old self whenever they had this argument.
He touched the jade pendant hanging around his neck. From the ridges under his fingers, he could tell the side inscribed with the characters for his mother’s name faced up and he traced them as he fought back tears.
He’d sacrificed so much for his dream of getting his nursing degree. His time and energy, his family. Working in the emergency room, being the first person patients interacted with and the one who genuinely cared for them from start to finish, called to him. To have the freedom to join any practice, any business. He’d never trade those for his grandparents’ financial support.
But what if he should be doing more? Would working as a doctor enable him to save more patients, keep more families intact?
“You’re wasting your potential, Dudu. You were meant to be a doctor.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“And why not? Your mother gave you that nickname. You were such a chubby baby when—”
“I’m not either of those things anymore.”
A long-suffering sigh came through the line. “Fine. Whatever you say, Kai Wei Qi.”
Simon squeezed his eyes shut. Years of programming to respect his elders without question helped him leash his anger. He flipped his talisman to the other side to trace the characters etched there for his father’s name. “Why are you calling, Grandma?”
“To find out why you didn’t call last night.”
“Now you know. I’m going to sleep. I’ll call you when I have time. Bye, Grandma.” He moved the phone away from his ear.
“And when will that be?”
He sighed and brought it back. “I don’t know. My shifts at the hospital are all over the place with the fire, and I have class later.”
“That’s unacceptable.”
“Better than promising something and taking it back.” Simon knew that was low-hanging fruit, but he couldn’t help it. Fortunately, she brushed right past his comment.
“I’ll expect your call tonight. Eight o’clock.”
Simon didn’t answer. There was nothing to say when his grandmother made up her mind. And as much as he hated to admit it, he knew he’d be calling her, even if he was at work.
“I’m hanging up, Grandma. Ai ni.”
“I love you, too, Dudu. Don’t forget. Eight tonight.”
Simon hung up without responding and chucked his phone across the room. Which was only five feet. But still. If anyone called now, he’d hopefully be far too passed out to hear it. He rolled over and snuggled into his pillow. So soft. Like a hug for his head. His eyes drifted closed.
Your parents would be ashamed of you.
No more hug. More like a bed of nails now.
His grandmother’s words cut through the haze of fatigue and into his heart like a knife-point, lodging in the seat of the doubts he fought every day.
Would they be ashamed?
He’d only been ten at the time of the accident. Maybe sixteen years later, they’d have expected more from him than they had from ten-year-old Simon. He tried to recall their interactions with his then-teenage sisters and failed. But even if he could remember, would it matter? Or would his parents have wanted different things for their only son?
He buried his face in his pillow, reaching for the slumber he’d been on the verge of when his grandmother had called. It promised rejuvenation and enticing dreams. Like Patient Twelve’s skin glowing in the moonlight…
Simon growled, picturing her mischievous green eyes, soft skin, and kissable lips. His body hardened, and he rolled to his back to avoid poking a hole through his mattress. Remember how stubborn she was. Think things that will actually help you sleep. Dealing with her was probably about as miserable as dealing with his grandmother.
Simon shuddered. Horrible analogy. Don’t ever compare those two again.
Crowded out of his own bed by the women swimming in his head, Simon grumbled and gave up on sleep. His desk guilted him, the book he still needed to read for class open and mocking.
He flopped into his wooden chair and stroked his English ivy plant, the constant source of green and light in his little apartment. A few tendrils curled over his copies of The Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Medicine and Advanced Pharmacotherapeutics.
Instead, he opened the center drawer where one leather-bound book lay, its spine worn and pale with use. The first page—the only page he’d ever read—hit him like a breath of wintry air, refreshing and frosty.
His parents’ smiling faces beamed at him from the page, standing against the backdrop of the playground where they used to play. Sandwiched between them, a small boy missing his two front teeth grinned with the innocent joy of a childhood not yet shattered.
Ready or not, here I come, Dudu!
Simon could still hear his mother’s voice, full of laughter, calling his name as though it were her favorite word in the world. He could still smell his father and the scent of woodwork and aftershave that clung to him.
One day, he would open the lid on the chest his father made for him and breathe in the smell again, remembering the feel of his dad’s hug as he held Simon and whispered his nickname.
No one else had the right to use it, least of all his grandmother, who tainted everything she touched. She’d certainly tried to be a caring parental figure, but she always wound up tripping over her own judgment and disapproval.
He swallowed the painful lump of emotion and tucked his thoughts carefully away with the scrapbook in his drawer.
He slid the tome of a textbook closer, brushing aside English ivy leaves. His test next week would be insurmountable if he didn’t start preparing for it now. Pathophysiology and Sequelae, Chapter 8: Inherent Immunity: Wound Repair, Inflammation, and Immune System Networks.
Are you Simon? Hey buddy, I’m Nurse Emily. Can I sit with you?
Sometimes he heard Nurse Emily’s voice when he was studying, reminding him why he wanted this job, this life. He’d not seen her since that day, might not ever see her again. But his memory of her kept him company while he studied, just as she had all those years ago, talking with him about everything from comic books to the best flavors of bubble gum until his grandparents returned to collect him.
When he remembered that day, Simon felt as if he would sacrifice anything to be a Nurse Emily, to sit with patients and their families, to explain ‘internal bleeding’ in terms a ten-year-old could understand. Her wire frame glasses hadn’t hidden the kindness in her bright green eyes.
No. She had brown eyes. Patient Twelve’s were green.
He refocused on the chapter in front of him, as if by staring at its illustrations he could force Patient Twelve from his mind. But in each picture and diagram, he saw her again, arching one elegant brow as though asking him if this was really what he wanted to be doing.
Or if he’d rather be doing her.
Forty-five minutes later and no closer to getting past mucous membranes, Simon slammed the book closed and gave up in favor of a hot shower. He was just coming out when his phone rang again with a number he didn’t recognize.
“Simon Kai?” a male voice said.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Lucas Wash with Rescue Blades. Dr. Thorne gave me your number. I’ve got a helicopter search and rescue team heading out at seven tonight without any nurses. Any chance you’d be willing to join?”
You’re just lazy.
Simon clenched the phone in his fist. This would silence the disappointed echo of his grandmother’s voice in his head.
