Page 53 of Dragon's Flame
“Happy birthday early, Kenna,” he said, then gestured at the thing she was half ensconced in, snapping his fingers, making it flow forward. “We’ll be draining you in a bit.”
Rather than respond, or fight, which seemed sure to make things worse, she returned herself tobeaconing, only this time instead of following her breath, she timed it to the frantic beating of her heart.
46
TARIAN
Tarian drove Sarah to her home and followed her up the stairs, still naked.
“God, I hope no one sees us,” she muttered, before finding a rock inside a small plant outside her door and freeing an extra key.
“That doesn’t seem safe.”
“You’re one to talk—seeing as I’m pretty sure this is all your fault,” she said, and glared at him, before allowing him entrance into their space.
He was hit by Kenna’s orange-blossom scent in an instant, and it made him ache. He could still feel the bond between them, though; she was alive, and it was beating slow and steady, like a pulse.
“Get to your email,” he commanded, and she gawked at him. “No cops.”
“Are you sure?”
“They will only make things worse.”
She shook him off, and opened up a small metallic case on a desk, beginning to click on the buttons inside. “Okay, well, thereyou go,” she said, vacating the seat—until she realized he was naked. “Or you could just tell me what you want to say?”
That was good. He didn’t know how things worked yet, only what Rax had made him memorize before he left. He gave her Rax’s email, and then told her to send him a one-line missive.
Seris is here. Come find me.
“That’s it?” she asked.
“It is.”
“Okay, then,” she said, pressing another button. “Sent! Now—about clothing—I might have an ex’s jogging pants that could stretch to your size?”
“I have no need,” he said, handing the keys and wallet he was holding over. “Things will either get better shortly or dramatically worse, but nothing that will be happening will require pants.”
“That’s what she said,” Sarah muttered, then gave him a sorrowful smile. “Bring her back to me, yeah?”
“I fully intend to,” he said, then turned for her door.
47
KENNA
Kenna tried to imagine her new med-school personal essay now.
So there I was, being woven into a monster’s cocoon, while immortality cultists with bazookas circled around...
Anything to maintain a veneer of normalcy.
A shred of hope.
Because now that she’d been released from the cancerous goop and placed into rough webbing, she was starting not to feel safe.
Especially because the weaving maggot-thing outside seemed to be webbing her in, moving back and forth, coating the area in front of her with stripes of silk, until the rest of the building was hidden.
“Let me out!” she shouted, thrashing against the strands. “I don’t like this,” she added, far more quietly to herself.
