Breathing Fire (Heretic Daughters #1)

Chapter Five: Touché

For better or worse, the only thing rarer than dragon slayers were dragons themselves, so Christian found himself raised in a time where his very specialized skills were nearly obsolete.  He still carried around his neck the family weapon that was named appropriately, dragonsbane.  At the moment it looked like a tiny but intricate knife.  But in his hands it could take any shape he required.  I’d tried for years to get the details of what power a slayer held over dragons, and what power the blade specifically held, but he kept his ancestor’s secrets hidden well for the most part.  

Once he’d gotten drunk and told me that all of the mountains in the world were just sleeping dragons.  That’s when I’d known that a drunk Christian was no place to get information. 

Dragon slayers themselves, though long lived, were not immortal.  A five hundred year lifespan isn’t a bad deal either, though.  And if they could get their hands on some dragon’s blood to drink, the possibilities were endless.  

Christian himself was a young slayer.  We’d never talked about it, but I didn’t think he was older than his forties.  He didn’t look it, of course.  He knew I was older than he was, but the actual truth would have shocked him.  He had always assumed Lynn and I were exceptionally powerful fire sorcerers.  I encouraged the assumption.  Some secrets are best kept even from the closest of friends.  Our friendship with Christian, for obvious reasons, unquestionably required it.

We began to fight in earnest.  I did pretty well, all things considered, but I could tell he was taking it easy on me.  

“You know, you can hardly complain,” he panted at me.  He was across the room, since I had thrown him there.  “If we were to compare notes on who has taken more shit from the other’s love life, I’m well ahead of you, dear.”  He gave me a half smile to soften the blow, but it still landed solidly.

“Touché,” I said softly, stung.  It was very true.  When I had left Dom seven years ago, Christian had been tortured for information.  He hadn’t revealed one thing to them, and he’d known plenty.  “I did tell you to lay low for a while.”  I tried to sound lighthearted, but didn’t manage.  I knew Christian was long over it, but I wasn’t.  

He shrugged.  “I’m not scared of the druids.  Actually, the bastards had the nerve to contact me recently.”

His revelation surprised me enough to get me pinned face first to the ground while my mind worked the ramifications out.  “When was that?” I panted.

“A few weeks ago.  I guess they suspect that the necros have recruited a few new created Others to their cause.  Same old shit that’s been going on forever.”  I struggled hard, but couldn’t budge him.  He continued talking, as though he didn’t even notice my struggles.  “That age-old debate between the Born and the Created.  Sounds as if hostilities have escalated, though.  Druids are putting together a team to move in on one of the necro settlements, fry up some of their half-dead asses.  They’re gonna make an example.  They wanted to know if I wanted in on the action.  Cheeky blokes.  They thought I’d be tempted by the carnage of an all-out brawl.”

“Does kind of sound like a good time.”  Panting, I finally threw him off.

“Yeah, I thought so.  I agreed to help them,” he said, shocking me and effectively ending our session.  

“Okay, lift more weights after I leave, candy ass.  Training’s over for today.”

I made our usual after workout shakes.  He didn’t notice when I put a drop of my blood into his glass.  How crazy do you have to be to feed your blood to the only thing on earth that can kill you, in order to prolong its life, and make it stronger?