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“Children aren’t cheap. And that’s half the reason people are so jealous of my superiority. I’m good at what I do, and people pay me obscene amounts of money to be good at what I do. We took care to hide those realities from you as a child. And while you were willing to challenge most everything, you never cared much about what I was doing when I went off on my unexpected trips. You were upset I had to go, but all I had to do was tell you it was important, and you accepted that. You had tantrums, because all children have tantrums, but we got lucky with you. You always respected when I went into my office to work, and the few times you wanted on my lap while I was working, you were looking for a warm place to sleep. A few of my clients are aware you exist, but they are not the kind of people to gossip with dragons. As such, the dragons remain oblivious—and you have the freedom to conquer Dragon Heights however you see fit.”
As I would be a fool to even try to convince a dragon conquering wasn’t something to be pursued, I let my father maintain his delusions regarding me conquering anything. Well, I could see myself doing a little conquering of Erik in the near future.
That left me with one major question I couldn’t even imagine the answer to. “How did you manage to hide having me from a bunch of nosy dragons?”
My parents snickered, and after exchanging glances, my mother waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “They were so happy to get rid of us for a few years that they didn’t stop to think why we might want to skip out of town for a while. Once you’re discovered, we’ll settle in and have a few more children. Honestly, we were going to bring you here in your teens, but we quickly came to the conclusion what you wanted and what we wanted for you didn’t align. As such, we went with your wishes rather than our own.”
My father smirked. “I had you figured out when you were six. You are not fond of unearned praise and attention, and the nosy busybodies here would shower you with both in an effort to win our approval. Dragons take their hatchlings quite seriously. Only a fool targets young hatchlings. Dragon-kin over the age of eighteen are fair game, but the younger the hatchling, the more likely only some blood and a few bits of organ will remain of those who push their luck. This rule also applies to hatchlings who just sprouted their scales. Anyway, this city of weak little dragons wouldn’t be able to handle the thought of your mother in throes of pregnancy hormones.”
That I could believe without hesitation. “How did you two even survive through hiding all that ego for so many years?”
My parents grinned at me, and my father shot me a salute. “It was not easy, but you are worth the effort. We decided, before we even made earnest attempts to have you, that we would do our best to raise a good child. We hate entitled little brats. They’re annoying and undeserving of their ego. When you develop your ego, it will be because you have earned it, not because of some perception you are deserving of handouts.”
That I could also believe. “Well, you did a good job.”
“Perhaps we did a little too good of a job,” my mother confessed. “But at the end of the day, only one thing matters. Are you happy?”
I considered my life, from my first memories to the moment I’d left Miami to spare Erik from us both being dragged down—and to the moment I’d begun to realize that while I’d burned bridges, detours could be made or new bridges could be built. Buried beneath the struggles, most of it self-inflicted, I came to a single conclusion.
Happiness wasn’t about feeling joy all the time, but rather in harboring confidence I was at the right place at the right time, muddling through and finding satisfaction in the life I’d chosen for myself. When viewed through that lens, especially with the arrival of Garnet and Tourmaline along with reuniting with Erik, I could see myself as the definition of what it was to be happy.
I had no desire to go anywhere else or be anyone else.
I had a purpose.
Life, while strange, held meaning.
“Yes, I am.”
“Then we have done our job as your parents. We gave you every tool you needed to become a happy adult. You don’t need wealth to have happiness.” My mother gestured to take in my tiny apartment, which held up only because of my willingness to work to maintain it. “I would rather you have this happiness than all the money in the world. That said, the table goes. I will light it on fire if I have to.”
I laughed, aware that my table met nobody’s standards, not even mine. “The table can go, and you can work at convincing these helpful people to grab me off the street if you must. But if I get grabbed, you have to explain yourselves to Erik—and make certain Garnet and Tourmaline are fed if we’re separated.”
“We’ll make sure your babies are well cared for. Now that we’ve gotten that business out of the way, what are you up to? Why did John give us a call with a warning you’ll have a private investigation license by the end of the day?”
Busted. “I’m going to investigate who is killing the pilgrims and why, and I’m going to be competing with Erik to see which one of us can find the asshole stabbing the brothel workers first.”
“They’re the same person,” my father announced.
I blinked. “Pardon?”
“The culprit is the same person.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And how, precisely, would you know that? Have you been coming to Dragon Heights at an alarming rate to stab brothel workers?” If my father knew the truth behind who was hurting the women, I’d beat the information out of him. “You’re speaking with way too much confidence for that statement to lack supporting evidence.”
“When you first mentioned the petitioners to me, I decided to do some digging myself,” my father confessed. “It helps I talk with John multiple times a week, and that we’re usually seeing each other at least once a week. I brought it up to him, and we had a talk with some of his kids about the situation. He thinks that the killings and the attacks are linked. The numbers are essentially equal. Every time a pilgrim turns up dead, a brothel woman has been attacked. The woman is usually attacked one to three days prior to the pilgrim’s body being found. The body is either fresh or only a few hours old—never older than the attack on the woman, and the reports indicate there’s at least three to six hours at a minimum before the attack.” My father engaged me in a staring contest. “Now, why do you think that might be?”
I sucked in a breath, well aware of the magic that had driven me away from Erik and my dream job in the first place. “You think it’s necromancy?”
“I do. What I don’t understand is why or how. But necromancy is the only form of magic that can harvest power from someone’s fear and pain. And that’s all the attacker is accomplishing with the women: he causes a little pain and a lot of fear, which a necromancer could then harvest to fuel his other powers.” My father huffed, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest. “You probably haven’t had time to profile the pilgrims, but they’re all male. Women typically go the safe route and petition—and the petitioners have been left alone thus far. It’s like this necromancer wants to maintain some form of balance. But why kill the male pilgrims and spare the women? But if Erik is willing to compete with you about the brothel workers, it means one thing: law enforcement in Dragon Heights has tired of the pilgrims being killed. But there is one consideration that is bothering me.”
“The pilgrims killed aren’t ideal people, are they?”
My father sighed. “They’re really not. If those men were to become dragons, there would be victims, and many of them would be women. It’s like the killer is exacting a price now to prevent a worse evil done to them later. But what sort of necromancer would do that?”
“The same kind that would see a dying kitten and put his soul into a new body so that kitten could have a happy life,” I whispered—and I wondered. “Cedrick’s father has a cat named Monster.”
My mother’s expression turned serious, and I spotted some old sadness haunting her eyes. “We know about Monster. Dragon Heights had to do quite a lot of thinking the day that kitten was given a second chance at life. Most dislike necromancy, but we could not begrudge someone for giving a kitten a chance for a better life. Monster would have died, and the necromancer was willing to do the work with a conjured body. And, after some serious debate among the powers that be within the city, it was determined that Monster was an innocent and should not be robbed of his new lease on life. And so, Monster lived.”