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Authors: val st crowe
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“Everyone liked Fletcher,” said Anya Sheffield, a dragon who couldn’t have been much older than twenty-two. She kept fiddling with the stirrer in her drink and running her teeth over her bottom lip.
Lachlan was inches from her, leaning across her table, staring into her eyes as if she was the most important thing on earth. “Everyone? Was this guy a saint or something?” he said, raising his eyebrows.
Anya giggled. “Oh, God, no. He had a real problem with drugs.”
Lachlan had been doing this all night. I hung back and watched while he let girls flirt with him, and asked them questions about Fletcher.
I wasn’t jealous.
It wasn’t as if he had any actual interest in girls like Anya. And I was noticing subtle differences between the way he manipulated people and the way he interacted with me. This was an act, and he was genuine with me. So, it wasn’t jealousy I was feeling. It was…
Well, I was annoyed that he was so proficient at this.
My expectations for the evening had been turned on their head. I had expected that this would be my time to shine, because I would know the ins and outs of the culture here, and that I’d take the lead and Lachlan would follow.
But Lachlan wasn’t really a follower.
He wasn’t exactly a leader, either.
He was more… a loner.
“Speed, right?” said Lachlan.
Anya bit down on her lower lip. “Maybe speed. But mostly smack, I think. Last party I saw him at? It was his parents’ anniversary, and he was out of it. Just sprawled out on one of the couches, his tie loosened, his eyes half-closed. He was like rubbing one of the couch cushions.” She shook her head. “That’s not speed, right?”
“Heroin.” Lachlan sat back in his chair, moving away from Anya. He looked up at me. “Is that a typical party drug amongst dragons?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t think so.”
He turned back to Anya. “You ever do it?” He made it sound like it would be perfectly all right with him if she wanted to admit it.
“No,” said Anya, sounding almost disappointed in herself. “Too chicken to try hard stuff like that.”
Lachlan patted her hand. “Good girl.” He stood up, straightening his jacket. “Thanks for your time, Anya.”
I had a drink I’d been twirling with my fingers. Now I took a big gulp.
Lachlan moved close to me. “So, heroin. Maybe he overdosed somewhere? Maybe it wasn’t a murder at all.”
“You really think so?” I said.
“I don’t know. Everyone’s saying the same thing. He was well-liked, but people felt sorry for him, or they worried about him, because he partied so hard.”
“Yeah, he does seem to be going above and beyond the expected parameters of dragon partying. And that’s not easy to do,” I said.
“Hmm.” Lachlan rubbed his chin.
We were quiet for a few moments.
“So, you’re right at home here,” I said.
He gave me a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” I said, feeling stupid for having brought it up. “I just didn’t realize that you’d be so… comfortable at a party like this.”
He shrugged, looking around the vast room. There were elegant light fixtures that dropped from the ceiling over tables decorated with roses and lilies and black silk tablecloths. A string quartet played in the corner, and there were servants moving through the room carrying trays of appetizers and drinks. “Not comfortable. I hate stuff like this.”
“Really? You’d never know it.”
“I thought you’d be more comfortable,” he said. “This is your arena.”
“I thought so too.” I looked down into my drink. “But it actually isn’t my arena. Not anymore.”
“Well, we can get out of here soon,” he said. He nodded to the other side of the room. “Those guys with Fletcher’s brother, Finn? Let’s try to get them away from Finn and ask them some questions. Then I think we call it a night.”
“You sure?” I said.
“Yeah, definitely,” he said.
* * *
“Fletcher?” said the
“Everyone liked Fletcher,” said Anya Sheffield, a dragon who couldn’t have been much older than twenty-two. She kept fiddling with the stirrer in her drink and running her teeth over her bottom lip.
Lachlan was inches from her, leaning across her table, staring into her eyes as if she was the most important thing on earth. “Everyone? Was this guy a saint or something?” he said, raising his eyebrows.
Anya giggled. “Oh, God, no. He had a real problem with drugs.”
Lachlan had been doing this all night. I hung back and watched while he let girls flirt with him, and asked them questions about Fletcher.
I wasn’t jealous.
It wasn’t as if he had any actual interest in girls like Anya. And I was noticing subtle differences between the way he manipulated people and the way he interacted with me. This was an act, and he was genuine with me. So, it wasn’t jealousy I was feeling. It was…
Well, I was annoyed that he was so proficient at this.
My expectations for the evening had been turned on their head. I had expected that this would be my time to shine, because I would know the ins and outs of the culture here, and that I’d take the lead and Lachlan would follow.
But Lachlan wasn’t really a follower.
He wasn’t exactly a leader, either.
He was more… a loner.
“Speed, right?” said Lachlan.
Anya bit down on her lower lip. “Maybe speed. But mostly smack, I think. Last party I saw him at? It was his parents’ anniversary, and he was out of it. Just sprawled out on one of the couches, his tie loosened, his eyes half-closed. He was like rubbing one of the couch cushions.” She shook her head. “That’s not speed, right?”
“Heroin.” Lachlan sat back in his chair, moving away from Anya. He looked up at me. “Is that a typical party drug amongst dragons?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t think so.”
He turned back to Anya. “You ever do it?” He made it sound like it would be perfectly all right with him if she wanted to admit it.
“No,” said Anya, sounding almost disappointed in herself. “Too chicken to try hard stuff like that.”
Lachlan patted her hand. “Good girl.” He stood up, straightening his jacket. “Thanks for your time, Anya.”
I had a drink I’d been twirling with my fingers. Now I took a big gulp.
Lachlan moved close to me. “So, heroin. Maybe he overdosed somewhere? Maybe it wasn’t a murder at all.”
“You really think so?” I said.
“I don’t know. Everyone’s saying the same thing. He was well-liked, but people felt sorry for him, or they worried about him, because he partied so hard.”
“Yeah, he does seem to be going above and beyond the expected parameters of dragon partying. And that’s not easy to do,” I said.
“Hmm.” Lachlan rubbed his chin.
We were quiet for a few moments.
“So, you’re right at home here,” I said.
He gave me a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” I said, feeling stupid for having brought it up. “I just didn’t realize that you’d be so… comfortable at a party like this.”
He shrugged, looking around the vast room. There were elegant light fixtures that dropped from the ceiling over tables decorated with roses and lilies and black silk tablecloths. A string quartet played in the corner, and there were servants moving through the room carrying trays of appetizers and drinks. “Not comfortable. I hate stuff like this.”
“Really? You’d never know it.”
“I thought you’d be more comfortable,” he said. “This is your arena.”
“I thought so too.” I looked down into my drink. “But it actually isn’t my arena. Not anymore.”
“Well, we can get out of here soon,” he said. He nodded to the other side of the room. “Those guys with Fletcher’s brother, Finn? Let’s try to get them away from Finn and ask them some questions. Then I think we call it a night.”
“You sure?” I said.
“Yeah, definitely,” he said.
* * *
“Fletcher?” said the
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