Page 10 of All Out of Flux (Stolen Hearts #3)

10

MAX

I chewed on my bottom lip as Leon tore into another croissant, sucking down huge gulps of caramel macchiato in between bites. I didn’t think I’d ever be so scared for him, at least not since that time Divina had tried to drown him. He wasn’t even strong enough to make it to my car on his own, after dealing with the Quartz Spider.

This was only the second time I’d had to carry him in my arms. I really didn’t ever want for there to be a third.

And still he chomped away, lost in a feeding frenzy. He needed the calories and sugar. Johnny stood nearby, tutting and shaking his head, both the big brother and the father figure. The pastries at Unholy Grounds weren’t always the freshest, but bless Johnny Slivers for always being so happy to provide.

“Now,” Roscoe said, nodding as he perused a stack of books. “Tell me in your own words what happened.”

Leon dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, glancing around sheepishly, like he’d only just remembered his manners. He took a beat to swallow, eyes searching the table as he tried to put the pieces of the story together.

“I tried to summon the third dragon’s magic. At first I thought it hurt more because he was especially powerful. Something like that. But then I realized the pain was different.” He patted at his stomach, grimacing. “It came from here. Like the worst indigestion ever, like my insides were twisting around themselves, tying into knots.”

I shook my head. The pain in his voice, in his eyes — I never wanted that to happen again.

“Super painful, you guys,” Leon continued. “It was fucking agony. Dragon agony, even.”

Johnny narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you say it.”

Leon straightened his back, emboldened by being told that he shouldn’t. “Dragony.”

Johnny and Roscoe groaned. I banged my fist on the table.

“Because it was both dragons at once this time,” I grumbled. “They betrayed him. Both dragons hiding inside him, both trying to punch their way out.”

My hand tightened around the handle of my mug — something strong and hot and black. I knew I could use a stiff drink, but I knew I could use a clear head even more. We’d driven here straight from the parking lot near Habibi because I didn’t know where else to go. I didn’t know what else to do.

I hated feeling so helpless, especially when it came to keeping Leon safe. I’d royally fucked up in that area, but what else was I supposed to do?

Leon pursed his lips, eyebrows furrowed like he was more worried for me than he was for himself. Sweet of him. Too sweet.

“Well, I don’t know if I would blame Bakunawa for this. And I promise it’s not just, like, nationalistic pride or whatever. He went dormant inside me after he saved us from all that water, remember? He couldn’t have known that Tiamat had promised me to another dragon. If anything, it was Bahamut who should have known better.”

Like I said. Too sweet. These monsters had ripped up his insides and tried to claw their way out of his skin and here he was defending them. Or at least one of them. He hugged his arms around the front of his belly, rocking back and forth.

“Listen to me talking like they can’t hear what I’m saying, what I’m thinking. Honestly, I’m not sure I care about that anymore, anyway. If they don’t have me, then they can’t manifest in reality.” Leon looked up and blinked. “Can they?”

Roscoe rubbed his chin and nodded. “Sure, they can. But remember that the reason they need you in the first place is to throw everybody else off the scent. These Emanations look like they come from you, not from the dragons. For all intents and purposes, the damage they deal would be your responsibility, remember?”

“Yeah,” Leon said quietly. “I know that. It’s weird. They’re inside me, but I can’t feel them just now. Tired from fighting to take over me, maybe? Dunno. But until this is all sorted, I guess I should stop trying to Emanate at all.”

I reached for his hand and covered it in mine, a wave of relief passing over my body. “That would be for the best. For now. Until you figure out what’s actually going on. It’ll be fine. You’ve got other tricks up your sleeve, right?”

Leon turned his hand up, lacing our fingers together as he shot me a bashful, sticky smile. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

I reached for a napkin and wiped a croissant flake away from the corner of his mouth. In any small way, if I could help him, if I could make him feel better — that was all that mattered.

“There’s just one thing that we need to straighten out,” Johnny said. “Roscoe was reading up on the dragons and he pieced something together. It isn’t a pretty picture.”

As if I could feel any worse. Leon’s forehead creased with concern. An awful sensation stirred in my belly.

“I’m not sure if you realize this,” Roscoe said, “but almost every dragon you’ve worked with so far has been an agent of the apocalypse.”

My stomach dropped. I opened my mouth, closed it. I opened it again, but the words refused to come.

“Is that true?” I asked, searching both their faces. “Leon, did you know about this?”

Still at a loss for words, Leon stared at the table and shook his head.

Ross sighed. “I’m afraid it is. Bakunawa is known for eating the moon, at least in the myths. Tiamat herself is the leader of a coalition of supernatural entities, nearly all of them related to apocalyptic agendas in one way or another. The Great Beasts, they call themselves.”

“How did I forget about that?” Leon said. “How could I forget? Was I so starstruck by meeting Bahamut that I completely spaced on his actual role in the old legends?”

“And what was that role exactly?” I asked.

He bit on the back of his hand, something I’d always found so attractive about him, but now it worried me. He turned to Roscoe for a response, as if afraid to answer for himself.

Roscoe took off his glasses and sighed, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers. “According to legend, Bahamut carries the world upon his back. The stories differ. There’s a bull on his back, an angel on the bull, and it’s the angel who actually carries the world, or something like that. The point is, when Bahamut shrugs, the Earth trembles.”

Silence fell over the table. I swallowed in silence as I exchanged cautious looks with the others, my coffee mug cooling under my hand. So I asked, because no one else was talking.

“What happens if Bahamut is really allowed to manifest his power?” I shook my head. “For that matter, why are these dragons specifically coordinating with one another?”

“It could be that we’re blowing this out of proportion,” Johnny said. “Don’t look at me like that. Devil’s advocate, because the alternative sounds so much worse. They’re all sea dragons, aren’t they? Maybe that’s as simple as it gets.”

Leon stood up, his hand slipping out of my grasp, his chair sliding and squeaking against the floor. I didn’t like the look of grim determination that had suddenly found its way to his face.

“I have to commune with them. No. With her. Tiamat owes me some answers.”

Three more chairs scraped against the floor as the rest of us rose from the table, each warning Leon against the very idea. He looked around in annoyance, confusion, struggling to follow the threads of what we were trying to tell him.

“Absolutely not,” I said, louder, loudest, making damn sure to make myself heard above all the others. “She’s lied to you once, she’ll lie to you again. Hell, maybe she’s been lying this entire time.”

Leon stared at the backs of his hands, his shoulders sloped, looking so sullen I wanted to reach out and wrap him in a hug.

“At least give it time,” Roscoe said. “You’ve only just had to deal with the physical repercussions of keeping the sea dragons within yourself. I’m not an expert by any means, but personally, I’d stay away from dealings with supernatural entities for a little while.”

“You guys are right.” Leon sighed, shrugged, then sat back down, reaching for his coffee. At least we’d mollified him for the moment.

Still, it felt as though we’d left the worst unspoken. Tiamat maintaining her deception or piling more lies onto Leon’s plate was one thing. What if she somehow tricked her way into occupying his body, too? Was there any room left in there?

What if it killed him?

A tinkling came from the front door, the sound of someone tapping on glass. It was after hours at Unholy Grounds, but the place was always open for friends, and woe betide the man who tried to stop Guillotina Hernandez from going places. She rotated her hand at the wrist, signaling for Johnny to hurry up and let her in. He grumbled all the way to the door, then again when he opened it to the sound of her making a dramatic huff.

“Took you long enough, Slivers. Everything okay in here? Looks like you lost a bet. Every last one of you.”

Leon scrubbed his hand across his face, raking at his hair in the process. “Yeah, everything’s fine, Tina. Just some shit we’re working through.”

“Well, work harder, because we’ve got some crap to deal with. Max, it’s looking grim. Tío Gustavo is up to something, except I can’t tell what that something is.”

I rolled my eyes. “Tell me about it. He sent some goons after us tonight. The Quartz Spider ended up saving us by accident. Killed all three of them. Turned them to dust. It was brutal.”

We’d told Johnny and Roscoe about our run-in with Brendan Shum, naturally, in the lead-up to the story about Leon and the two dragons. I really didn’t feel like telling the story yet again, but Guillotina was expecting some answers.

“The Quartz Spider tried to kill you? Again? Jesus. And the goon thing — doesn’t make sense, somehow. Why would Gustavo send his minions to threaten you openly? That’s not his style.”

“She’s got a point,” Johnny said. “Usually it’s a constant stream of dudes going after Unholy Grounds, and Roscoe here gets to Home Alone them instead of killing them outright.”

Roscoe said nothing, staring dreamily out the floor-to-ceiling windows like he was hoping for a Brillante thug to appear. He was thinking about traps, probably, and how to maim people with them.

I took a sip of my lukewarm coffee and grimaced. “Beats me why he’d send anyone after us. With baseball bats and lead pipes, too. That’s more Divina’s thing. Gustavo tries to be a little more subtle about this stuff.”

My phone buzzed. I fished it out of my pocket — probably just some alert I forgot to turn off, some random notification. And then I saw the name on the text message. I sat upright, awakened and sobered in a way that lukewarm coffee couldn’t accomplish.

“It’s a message from Just,” I told Leon. “Says that a statuette fitting our client’s description might be in town. In some warehouse?”

Guillotina crossed her arms. “Well, well. Isn’t that convenient? A visit from Gustavo’s goons and the perfect acquisition for a client, both just happening to pop up in the same night.”

“Tío Gustavo is doing this all on purpose to bait me. Well, I’m not a kid anymore.” I cracked my knuckles. “He wants a piece of Maximilian Drake? He’ll get one.”

“I’m coming with,” Guillotina said. “If this is a trap, you’ll regret not having me around.”

Leon drained the last of his coffee. “You couldn’t leave me out of this one if you tried.”

“We’ll stay here,” Johnny said. “No offense, but if the Brillante thugs are out and about, there’s no telling when they’ll drop in to hit the coffee shop again.”

Roscoe adjusted his glasses, his lips creasing into a terrifying grin. “I’d love to see them try.”