Page 91 of Blue Embers
“It happened here, right?” Larson said, stepping in. “The night Benjamin Baleford died. The night you were brought to the hospital with no visible wounds but missing massive amounts of blood. The night you were marked by Mr. Valentyne himself. Aren’t you a bit obligated to--”
“I’m not obligated to do anything, Mr. Larson,” I interceded, holding his gaze. “I sense that you’re fishing for something dramatic, but here’s the real story.” I moved closer to him, standing up straight and tall. “I was manipulated into a situation by something evil. Something that wasn’t human and it wasn’t Draak. I came here and I had to see my coworker die. My friend. And then, by some unnatural power, I was forced to inflict injuries on myself.
“There are a lot of people out there fearing the Draak. Focusing on the Draak. People grow excited over the idea that we might remove them from power in the near future, but the fact is, there’s something much worse coming and I’ve seen it. You want a story? Report on this. Killian Valentyne is making an effort to build a stable relationship between man and Draak while terrorists poison people into upsetting the balance. Yes, I almost died here, on this floor, because there are things out there that don’t want humans and Draak to stand together. I survived because Killian Valentyne saved me.”
“Yet he isn’t even here to see his work done,” Larson said with a snarky grin. “Perhaps he and the other Draak are plotting to rid the sectors of this new substance? This Draak killing weaponry? Do you think they’re quivering now, uncertain how to live in a world like the rest of us. Fearing death every day?”
“Draak don’t fear death, Mr. Larson. And yes, Killian is absent. He’s meeting with the Draakir and the Order and has been for a week. He’s telling them about these problems and together they’re trying to find a way to make things work. I admire him for that. Much more than I admire a snake who slithers around trying to unravel any amount of progression.”
“Then the hijacked news sources stating that supporters of the Draakir will be hunted and detained or even killed doesn’t alarm you?”
“A rat who only comes out to make threats and then crawls back into the shadows is hardly a reason for me to run away with my tail between my legs,” I laughed, watching with pleasure as a slight bit of offense wrinkled Larson’s nose. I stepped in again, speaking quietly. “Cover the event however you want, Mr. Larson, but when things really start to fall apart, men like you will be the first to drown.” I took a brief scan of the room and smiled politely at the man. “I don’t expect you’ve actually explored the exhibit, but if you get a chance, you might be surprised at how much unity can change the world. Sooner or later, weeds like you will be plucked. And the unfortunate part for you is that no one will care.”
“Are you threatening me? Do Ashlings grow balls after they’re marked?”
“Trust me,” I said, amused. “No one has to grow a pair to stand up to a weasel like you.” My eyes dropped to the small, silver recorder in Larson’s hand. “If you missed any of that, go ahead and play it back.” I stepped away, flashing him another smile and a formal nod. “Have a good night, Mr. Larson.”
I sidestepped and walked past the man with a deep breath, smelling the cheap cologne on his suit. Lyrah followed, walking with me to the opposite side of the room.
“Holy shit,” Lyrah whispered to me, her mouth stretched into a grin. “That was amazing. I’ve gotten so tongue tied with people like that in the past.” She held up her phone. “And in case he tries to twist your words in any way, I got it all on here.”
I let out a breath, surprisingly relieved to know that. I hadn’t planned to get carried away, but now that I had I was elated to know there was proof that Larson was the instigator. My hands were sweating from the interaction. I cleared my throat and straightened my hair a bit before deciding that I needed air.
“Thank you for being here,” I said to Lyrah, placing a hand on her shoulder. “And for recording that. Maybe I’ll start a blog exposing corrupt news sources after all this is done.”
I spoke with sarcasm, but there was a part of me that actually considered it a good idea. It would take commitment, but considering all of the dishonesty in the sectors, perhaps that was a good way to spend my time after the museum was running on its own.
“So is it true?” Lyrah asked. “About the terrorists? People are saying it’s a Zephyre. I don’t know much about Zephyres, but I do know it would be bad news if they were around. And everything about Phyre Glass is just so crazy.”
“Killian is trying to expose the truth,” I assured. “With care, obviously. Media is trying its best to make Draak look like they’re panicking, but there are real problems and Phyre Glass is becoming the least of them.”
“So what should we do? I mean, I heard about the hijacked news stations. I mean...I don’thatethe Draakir. Am I going to--”
“That’s why Killian is late. They’re trying to figure out ways to protect citizens in the sectors. It’s a sensitive situation, but hopefully things like this will help. In the meantime, I think I already need some air. Reporters irritate me.”
Stepping around Lyrah, I started heading for the door to step out, but when Killian appeared through the entrance, everything stopped. Gods, I needed him. Just knowing he was there suddenly took a hundred pounds off my head. I sighed like I’d been holding my breath since I arrived. My skin tingled like a thousand little feathers had fallen around me, brushing my body. When he looked my way, I felt a warmth that I’d missed greatly, even if it had only been a couple days since I’d seen him last. His icy eyes drew me in and before I commanded it, my feet were moving in his direction.
As I neared, Killian’s eyes scanned me from head to toe, a gesture that never failed to take that warmth I was feeling and make it a searing heat deep in my core. I smiled. Genuinely this time. Trying to contain myself, I greeted him by straightening his silver tie. It didn’t need straightening of course, but it was all I could do to keep from burying myself in his arms in a room filled with too many people.
“Forgive me,” Killian spoke in a soft voice, reaching up to take my hand in his. “I should have arrived with you. I can tell you’re stressed.”
I shook my head, biting my lip to keep from showing too much, though our bond made it hard to hide anything from Killian.
“I can handle it,” I said, halfway lying. “I should be able to. If I rely on you too much, I’ll--”
“You’ll be doing exactly what an Ashling should. Trusting her Draak to be there. I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
“You had business,” I excused. “I understand. You’re here now.”
Killian’s eyes lifted to scan the room. “There’s a large variety of attendees here,” he said. “You’ve done well.”
“It was your vision. I just hope it performs the way we want it to.”
“In time. This game is precise.” He kept hold of my hand as we slowly began to stroll around the room, casually looking over the exhibit we’d built. “The game is long and with any luck, it won’t become what it was before.”
“Before?”
“On Draakon. On Kumir. Two worlds destroyed in flames. No Draak in his right mind would want the same thing to happen here. I spoke with the Draakir and the Order. At the very least, in this sector, they’re willing to trust one another until they’re given reason not to.”
