“I think I’m starting to understand why you have such an advantage over other dragons.” She pointed to the spikes on his back in the drawing that should have been wings. “This also eliminates a classic weakness in dragons, as the wing is a big target, though it seems you can have balancing issues if you don’t control the pace of the fight correctly.” She chewed on her thumb a little absently before giving him a small smile. “Balys is a good teacher.”
The older dragon shifter huffed. “I better be. Three times the champion, and now I’m cast out for scraps because I’m no longer in my prime.”
“He’s real picky about whom he chooses to train as well,” Cyrus said, giving her a grin. “I’m lucky to have him at all.”
“Nothing to do with luck,” Balys said. “I dislike your father immensely, so doing something like this is a pleasure for me. He did not favor me back in the day, and I like that your sole mission is to thoroughly piss him off. So… it is no trouble for me.”
The grins between the men widened. “We are still waiting for the protections we’ve ordered for you to arrive,” Cyrus then informed Sasha. Trying not to act like he was too interested in how she looked and sounded – anything that the sly old Balys might pick up on. “We have to make sure that the supernaturals don’t end up trying to use their magic on you without permission.”
“I appreciate it.” Sasha’s lips curled downward. “It is a little scary to think how much we can be manipulated by things like that.”
Balys grunted. “Buying charms is very expensive. Far easier to hire a witch or warlock to provide the protections.”
“There are none whom I trust.” Cyrus examined his mentor with a critical eye. “And you know how dangerous they can be if they have knowledge and access to the right magicks, the right books.”
At this, Balys gave a rather wolfish smile. “Aye, I know, all right. And I’d like to tell you that I happen to have my own contacts in this world too, including witches and warlocks who are reliable… for a price. One of them happens to be a relative too.”
“You have a relative exploiting these arts? This is news to me.” Cyrus knew, of course, that Balys had an extensive family network – but not that this family also included non-draconic people.
“She is a changeling. Placed in the human world by the fae in exchange for having a human in their court. They were meant to return for her eventually, but some… complications occurred. My wife has a soft spot for these things since she grew up with all that fairy lore and whatnot. We’ve been helping the changeling. She moved in with us for a few months too before embarking on a journey to understand her heritage, her magic – and that people can pay generously for such services. She’s even cast some magic over our house, making it harder for us to be tracked.”
At this, Sasha’s eyes lit up. “She sounds pretty cool. What’s her name?”
“Imogen.” Balys turned to look at Sasha. “I can put in a word, explain the situation. Though…” now he glanced at Cyrus, “she will expect payment and you’re not to lowball her.”
Cyrus let out a little groan, wondering how his sister might feel. She’d already been hunting down artifacts to protect Sasha. They’d acquired two of the five they intended to keep. They didn’t intend to hire a bodyguard as well because of their budget… but maybe it wouldn’t be a terrible idea, considering the possible vulnerability of a human.
“We can think about hiring her if you talk with her. I’ll just need to tell my sister.”
Balys smiled. “It’s a smart choice. Even with the trinkets, you don’t want to risk it. And I highly doubt even you would be able to afford an Amulet of Protection, which protects the wearer from all harm… for a billion or so dollars.”
Cyrus chuckled. “Yeah, well… you want a lift home, Sasha?”
The blonde nodded and grabbed her backpack, already preparing to head out. Cyrus stretched, feeling the strain in his muscles before walking with her to his car. He didn’t need to hide here, but they couldn’t be seen in public together. It was unlikely people would make the connection, but best not to risk it. As much as he wanted to stick it to his old man, he really couldn’t risk Torag’s ire.
Sasha climbed into the car with him and sagged into the seat as if exhausted. He braced his arm against the headrest, preparing to back up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah,” she sighed, running a hand through her fine blonde hair. “Still wondering on a level if I’ve gone crazy with accepting this contract with you and Aleera. The underworld is a scary place.”
“It can be, but the more you know about it, the less fear there will be,” he said, looking into her green eyes. Struck by how damnbeautifulshe was. Her eyes were more intense than most supernaturals he knew. At least, to him. Little brown and gold flecks were in the green too, making sure he always had something to look at. Not that he wanted to stare into her eyes too much.
“I hope that’s the case. Your father – he sounds terrifying, to me. Will I have to encounter him at any point?”
“It’s possible.” Cyrus mused over the implications of having his father meet Sasha. That would most likely need to happen at some point, especially since his dad liked to make a small habit of dropping around and updating Cyrus on things – or in the last visit, threatening about the fight pit if his identity was revealed and being uninvited to Thanksgiving, of course.
“I get the vibe you don’t really get along with your dad in general. Not just with the whole fight pit scenario.”
Cyrus drove out of the parking lot, deep in thought. “No, he’s always been a tough one to please. My older brother holds all the honors for the favored child. My older brother is everything he could have wanted. As for me, though… I was everything that he did not want. Then, when he found out what my shift was… it might as well have been like I had leprosy.”
He heard Sasha sigh in empathy. “Yeah, I get how horrible it can be to be so different. To have to deal with how other people treat you and look at you.”
“You know how it feels?”
“Not in the same capacity that you experience. But my family comes from a very, very poor background.”
He glanced at Sasha then as they reached a traffic light and he saw her twiddling her thumbs. He knew that she wasn’t well-off if she was coming to the pit to gamble. That was part of the reason why he thought she might be a good choice in the first place for this position – because she’d be actually likely to say yes. But he didn’t really comprehend what exactly that poorness meant. “I suppose it must have been hard growing up like that.”
“It can be painful when your parents don’t have the money for a lot of things. How your gifts at birthday parties are always easy and cheap. How your clothes come from thrift stores and secondhand shops. How people notice how poor you are, and then flaunt it with their allowances, their designer items – and don’t invite you to anything just because you’re too damn poor.” Sasha’s jaw clenched in pain. “I considered dropping out of school early. I never went to college.”