ANDI

I'm going to kill my brother Benny.

No, just killing won't be enough. He'll need to be tortured first, and then when he begs for mercy, then I'll kill him. Yeah, that sounds good.

I tear through my small trunk of belongings again, just in case I'm wrong. Nope. My good socks—both pairs—are completely missing. He knows I've been hiding them to wear when the bad socks (which are currently on my feet) are so trashed that they can't even be mended anymore. And because it's laundry day, I need to wear different socks under my boots so these can get washed.

Except all my socks are gone, and I know just the rat bastard that took them.

Biting back my fury, I smack my trunk shut and shove it back under my bunk. Daniela's no longer rooming with me and Gwen, and Gwen's gone to Fort Dallas, which means I'm alone in the old classroom I used to share with them. Once upon a time, I thought it'd be awesome to have a bedroom all to myself, but now it's just lonely. At least I can make as much noise as I want in here, though. I give my old metal-framed cot an angry kick, enjoying the shudder it makes, and then I head out of my room and storm down the hall toward the boys' quarters, where Benny will be.

It's early, though, and the halls of Fort Shreveport are mostly empty. I pass by a pair of moms, their toddlers in their arms, and give them a tight nod as I march toward my destination. The smell of food is wafting in the air and I can hear conversations at the far end of the hall, in the old cafeteria, which means it's breakfast time. Benny and the other boys should be up soon.

I find the classroom that all the boy children are sleeping in and ease the door open quietly. Little Lucas is still in his bed, sucking his thumb despite the fact that he's nine, but the other little boys are gone. Benny's bunk is empty, but there's a ring of discarded dirty clothes and old junk around it, just like any kids' bedroom. I know the moms of the other boys are always on them to clean up after themselves, so I try to nag Benny, too. He just rolls his eyes at me, because I'm not Mom. I'm barely eight years older than him, and so he doesn't listen to shit.

With a scowl, I march over to his messy end of the room and start to pick through his crap. There's a few dirty towels on the floor—looks like he's missed laundry day for the last while—and a few old shirts. "Dumbass," I mutter under my breath, because if Benny knew how much scrounging me and Luz and all the other girls had to do to get those clothes, he wouldn't be so wasteful with them. I poke through the laundry encircling the bed, but I don't see my socks—or any others.

On a hunch, I get down on my knees and check under his cot.

Sure enough, there's another pile of laundry. I reach out and grab one sock…and then drop it, making a noise of horror in my throat.

It's crusty.

Oh god. I just touched my baby brother's jizz rag. I'm going to vomit.

Scrubbing my hand against my jeans, I get to my feet. That little bastard. Not only is he stealing socks, but he's jerking off in them? The other women in the compound joked that I needed to worry about when my kid started stealing socks, but I had no idea what they meant. I do now. Ugh. Time to have a talk with Benny. This shit's unacceptable—the stealing, the casual disregard for clothing, and the mess. I know Benny's got it in his head to be rebellious right now because he's fourteen and the oldest boy in the compound, but he's taking it too far. Not just this, but a million other things.

The jizz socks are just the icing on the cake.

I swallow back my disgust, wipe my hand one more time, and then turn away from Benny's bunk. Lucas is watching me, sitting up, his thumb still in his mouth.

"Hey, kiddo," I say. "You seen Benny this morning?"

He shakes his head.

"Tell him he's in trouble if you see him, OK? His big sis is looking for him." With a bright smile at Lucas, I head out of the room and shut the door behind me.

If Benny thinks that getting up early means he can avoid me, he's wrong. He's been deliberately putting space between us over the last few months. Now that he's not a tiny kid anymore, he doesn't want his older sister hovering around him. Instead, he's been hanging out with…Liam.

I don't want to think about Liam right now though. Instead, I briskly head toward the cafeteria to get my breakfast and look for Benny there.

I head into the cafeteria just behind Luz's wife, Michele. I smile absently at her and scan the cafeteria, looking for my brother. The windows have their protective metal coverings lifted to let the early morning sunlight and breeze in, and a tallow candle sits atop each of the tables to allow a bit more light, the faint herbal scent of them nearly overpowering the scent of smoke, eggs and corn cakes. I get in line just like everyone else, waiting for my portion. It's funny but there's something comforting in living in an old school. I was just a teen when the Rift tore open, so being back in a school feels like coming home. I don't mind the lunch trays and the bells because it adds a bit of structure in a world that is sorely lacking it. It's kind of nice, really. Everyone pitches in, and if the cafeteria cooking is done by firepit instead of stove, no one complains. We all remember what it was like to have nothing to eat.

I notice that Amber's murmuring a soft apology with each dollop of eggs she doles out, and when I hold my tray out, she gives me a tiny spoonful of eggs and grimaces. "The chickens aren't laying much right now," she says quietly. "Amy says she's going to find us more food, though, and that it's all under control. Until then, we're stretching things." And she puts a corn cake on my plate.

I hold it back out to her, indicating she should take the scrambled eggs back. "Give mine to Grandpa Steve or Benny when he shows up, or Melissa. Someone else." I keep the corn cake and put my tray in the stack of dirty ones, stepping out of line as Amber spoons out the allotted eggs to the next person in line. "You haven't seen my brother, have you?"

"No. Did you ask Amy?" She glances back at me and then launches into her spiel with the next person in line. "Chickens aren't laying much right now. Amy's on it, though. We'll have more food soon."

Charlene just nods, relief on her face, and takes her tray without a word of complaint.

I shove my corn cake into my mouth and head toward the cafeteria exit, hating that I'm annoyed over the fact that everyone's fawning over Amy. She's the new leader of Fort Shreveport, and she's really nice and determined to fix all of our problems, and she's mated to one of the dragons so they can protect us. I have no doubt that Rast, her mate, will find more food for us—he can fly and hunt cattle down, or discover new locations for us to grow crops, or even scavenge farther out.

But my best friend Gwen was the leader for the last two years, and I'm still loyal to her. I hate that everyone's acting so relieved that Amy and Rast are here, because it feels like they're saying Gwen was doing something wrong. I hate that. I know how hard Gwen worked to keep this place afloat. I know how many times Gwen went without so others wouldn't starve. I know how many nights Gwen worried and cried over the stress of being the leader.

People are just jerks. Not that Amy isn't a sweetheart, but I hate that acknowledging her leadership makes me somehow feel as if I'm betraying Gwen. And Gwen isn't even here—she left us behind to spend time in Fort Dallas with Vaan and to act as a liaison between that fort and this one.

I feel a little betrayed over that, too. I've been left behind. All I have left is Benny, and the little shit's been stealing my socks to jizz in and won't talk to me otherwise.

I pause by the whiteboard as Shonda erases yesterday's message—"Tomorrow's Laundry Day!! Bring your clothes to Room 103 and make sure your bag is labeled!"—and begins to write a new one in bold red lettering. "DRAGON ATTACK DAY. STAY INSIDE."

"Shit. That's today?" I bite my lip, pausing to talk to her.

She taps the old planner in her hands, the dates in the corners scratched out and updated manually since printers are a thing of the past. "Yup. Laundry's going to wait until they're done."

"What about Amy and Rast?" I can't help but ask. "Why can't they chase the damn things off?"

Shonda shakes her head and draws a line under the word “inside.” "Talked to Amy already. We pulled the plants in the gym before breakfast and she and Rast headed out for hunting. She thinks food is more important than fending off the attack as long as everyone's inside and on lockdown." She shrugs. "She ain't wrong. As long as nothing's in the courtyard, we won't be bothered."

I chew on my fingernail absently. "I guess. You seen Benny?"

She rolls her eyes. "No. Can't say I mind it, either."

That's fair. Benny is kind of a shit. "Thanks, Shon." I head out of the cafeteria and then pause, thinking. The gym? Would Benny be hiding out with the flatbeds of plants, hunkered down in our tomato bushes and cukes? Nah. Someone would make him weed the pots and he'd be out of there in a flash. At fourteen, the only thing Benny excels at right now is avoiding work.

That and jerking it in socks, apparently.

I shudder and wipe my hand on my jeans again, heading for the library. I duck in but he's not there, just Carla, getting ready for the day's lessons for the little ones. He's not in room 103 when I drop my laundry bag off, either. I head to the front office—where Amy and Rast are now staying—and check the chore list whiteboard. Benny's listed under “mousetraps,” so I check the janitorial closets. No Benny. He's not in Gwen's bird coop feeding the doves, either.

He's not anywhere.

I grit my teeth, because I know what this means. Last resort. I guess I'll talk to Liam.

My belly quivers at the thought.

Me and Liam are…complicated. He first arrived in Fort Shreveport a few months ago and kept to himself. I thought he was yet another weirdo that the apocalypse had burped up and gave him a lot of leeway. After all, he had sharp teeth, golden skin, and wore sunglasses and long sleeves all the time. There's a lot of strangeness in the After, though. I saw the Mad Max movies in the Before, and when I was in Fort Tulsa, I remember seeing people going crazy with tattoos and piercings and all kinds of body decor as if they needed to make our world into the next Thunderdome. Like, because it was an apocalypse, we needed to look properly apocalyptic or something. So when Liam seemed a little unusual looking, well, I'd seen weirder. And he kept to himself, so it was easy to dismiss him.

Then we found out that Amy's golden-skinned, fanged hulk of a boyfriend was a dragon. And because Liam looked very similar to him, he was exposed for being a dragon-man. It was obvious that we'd overlooked him. Liam had golden skin like Rast, but his was a shade that could be seen as a sun-lover's tan, so no one thought much of it. Rast had long, crazy golden hair that was as thick and wiry as a lion's mane and spikes at his brow…and Liam always wore a baseball cap pulled low and sunglasses. Liam carried himself differently than Rast, but it was clear he was a dragon.

It was all especially clear after he disappeared when Amy and Rast showed up. That's a sign of guilt if there ever was one. Still, meeting Rast taught us that not all dragons are the bloodthirsty, wild killers that roam the skies and make the remnants of humanity huddle in forts. There's a few that are decent, it seems. Not long after Amy and Rast’s arrival, they left to go visit her sister, Gwen headed out of the fort to meet up with another dragon, and naturally Liam returned.

The timing was just so damn suspicious. I immediately confronted him, demanding to know if he was a dragon.

He only smiled this lazy, totally sexy smile as if I'd just figured out all his secrets. Didn't apologize. Didn't admit wrongdoing or deceit. Just smiled.

And that was that. After that, Liam stayed. He didn't cause problems, didn't make an ass of himself, and still tended to keep to himself, well, with one small exception. He hung around with me a lot. Everywhere I went, Liam was there.

I have to admit, I like it. He's a good-looking guy, even if he is a dragon. It's nice to be the center of someone's attention like that, and I fully admit that I'm lonely. Liam and Benny get along, too—in fact, Liam's the only person Benny gets along with, so I'd end up talking with Liam about my brother on a regular basis…and for a while, I thought up all kinds of reasons just to hang out with Liam.

But it's a small fort, and people started to talk.

They said I was all over Liam now that he was a dragon, and that I was “chasing tail.” They said I was jealous of Gwen with her dragon, and Amy with hers, and was trying to get one of my own. They said I was looking for the After equivalent of a sugar daddy—someone to handle all my problems and make them go away.

So I stopped talking to Liam, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't understand why. I can't stand the rumors, though.

It's really awful that they're not just rumors, they're pretty darn close to the truth.

Maybe I've got a protector fetish. I don't see how you can't after living in the After for a while. Someone to hold you close and make all your problems go away? Uh, that sounds pretty amazing to me. And there's no denying I find the dragons fascinating. No one knows that I confessed to Gwen that when her dragon, Vaan, was laying siege to the city, I thought he was here for me and went out to find him. Gwen never said a peep, which I'm eternally thankful for. If the rest of the fort knew, they'd never stop ragging me about it. Maybe they're right and I am a tail chaser.

I don't like the thought. I don't like the smirks that the others have on their faces when they see me talking with Liam. So I just…don't talk to him much. At all.

But Benny does. And if anyone knows where my tool of a little brother is, it'll be Liam.

So I head to the back of the school, to the guest quarters where Liam's currently staying by himself. I look around to make sure the hall is empty before I move to the door and knock.

“It’s open,” comes the casual reply.

I’ll give Liam credit. He speaks great English. Even hearing those two little words so effortlessly spoken makes it hard to reconcile “dragon” with Liam. Rast never says a peep. Gwen’s dragon Vaan? I’ve heard him say her name, but that’s about it. But Liam speaks English as well as the rest of us. For some reason, hearing his voice irks me and I open the door a crack and stick my head in.

“You’re going to miss breakfast,” I say, and it sounds bitchy the moment the words come out.

He rolls over in bed and scratches at his stomach, and my mouth goes dry. I’ve seen both Rast and Vaan naked—dragons apparently aren’t much for pants—but Liam always keeps himself covered. This is the first time I’ve seen so much of his golden skin, and it knocks the breath right out of my lungs. His barrel-shaped chest is taut without an inch of fat, his shoulders a huge triangle of golden perfection and rippling muscle. One big hand lazily scratches at his hairless stomach, just inches above his groin, and he gives me a sleepy-eyed look from his blankets. His sunglasses are gone—he’s been wearing them less now that we know the truth—and I can see the slow, golden whirl of his eyes, like they’re made of liquid metal. The hair he always keeps tightly hidden under a baseball cap is short (for a dragon) and stands up in thick golden spikes that look deliciously rumpled. Just barely noticeable peeking through his thick hair? Horns.

Right now, he looks so fiercely, incredibly dragonish that I don’t know how we possibly ever thought he was human.

And the look he’s giving me? His eyes are totally giving off come-fuck-me vibes.

“You came here to tell me about breakfast? So thoughtful.” Liam’s mouth quirks in a half grin, as if the sight of me amuses him. “Does everyone get this attention or am I just special?”

“Don’t flirt with me,” I snap back at him, my cheeks heating. “I’m just telling you because we’re low on eggs and if you wait too long, there isn’t going to be anything left. Though I don’t know why I’m bothering to tell you. You’re a dragon. You can just go out and get your own damn food.”

His brows go up at my nasty words, but his smile grows wider. “Are you here to pick a fight, Andrea?”

“Andi.”

“I like your full name. People are lazy and shorten names too often.” He gives a little shake of his head. “You’re the ones that choose to speak. The least you can do is speak all of a name.”

“So now you’re blaming me because humans like slang? Or shortcuts?”

He drags one thick-nailed finger over the bedsheets. I try to imagine him with claws like Rast, but his are all shorn off in an effort to look more human. “Am I?”

I give him an exasperated look. “I’m just trying to find Benny.”

“I thought you were here because you wanted to feed me.”

“You go on thinking that. I was trying to be polite.”

He looks amused. “Is that what that was? Why do you sound so angry then?”

“Because I’m talking to you,” I snap again, and it’s only made worse when his smile spreads. I hate that he’s got a gorgeous smile. I hate that he’s the most sinfully gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I hate that I’ve never been so fiercely attracted to anyone as much as I have to Liam.

Maybe I am a fucking tail chaser. God.

“I still think you’re picking a fight.”

Also entirely possible, not that I would ever admit that to him. I bite back another snappy retort, because I think he’s getting a kick out of them. “I’m not here to argue. I’m here to ask if you’ve seen Benny.”

“You don’t think he went out? With a dragon attack today?”

I frown that he already knows about the dragon attack. “You saw the whiteboard? Or do you have the schedule memorized?”

“Neither. I just figured it was time. Females pick fights when they are in mating heat, so it’s about due.” He sits up in the bed, the covers nearly sliding completely off of him. By some miracle they remain over his hips and I don’t know if I’m pissed at that or relieved. “The ones flying in are in heat. I can sense it.” Liam scratches at his shoulder and then rubs a big hand down his arm. “Their nearness crawls under my skin.”

My mouth opens silently, and then I snap it shut again. What can I say that will make him feel better? He’s a stranger in this world, an alien for all that he looks mostly human. I don’t know how he feels. “I’m sorry” doesn’t seem to fit, not with the desolate expression on his face. “I won’t keep bothering you,” I say instead, and start to shut the door.

“Wait.”

I pause, my heart fluttering like it always does when I’m near Liam. “What?”

He gets to his feet, all sinewy movements, and the blanket falls to the ground. “I’ll help you look.”

A horrified squeak escapes my throat and I turn my back the moment all that golden skin gets exposed. It’s not that I’ve never seen a man naked before. I have. Or a dragon-man. Rast is naked all the time for some reason. But this is Liam.

That makes it different.

I squeeze my eyes shut and press my face against the doorframe. I’m still standing in the doorway itself, and for a moment I think I should have never turned around. I can still see his long, hard body rising from the blankets, the thick length of his cock against his thigh as he got to his feet, and all that rippling, lightly-scaled golden skin. I suck in a deep breath. “Put some clothes on!”

“What do you think I’m doing?” There’s such amusement in his voice. “Humans aren’t fans of naked bodies, for some reason. Why is that? This is the first chance I’ve had to ask.”

I press my lips together. For the last seven years, Liam’s been posing as human. I guess we’re the first ones that figured it out, so it does make sense that I’m the first one he can ask. But still…why me? “Because it’s not polite.”

“Such a strange people. As if covering your body does anything other than slow your reflexes.”

I say nothing, listening for the rustle of clothing. I wonder if he’s exposed himself to anyone else in Fort Shreveport? But somehow I know it’s just me. Despite the fact that his secret’s out, he keeps to himself for the most part. He talks to Benny, and he talks to me, and occasionally Amy and Rast.

Or he tries to talk to me, but I mostly avoid him unless I absolutely have to, because people talk. And if there’s anything I hate, it’s people talking in a fort. Just thinking about the rumor mill makes me break into a cold sweat. No matter how much I might like Liam, he’s not worth the rumors.

It’s a sobering reminder. I shut the door behind me and leave his room. I head down the hall, determined to return to my Benny search and forget all about Liam and his glorious body.

The door opens as I hurry away. “Andrea, wait,” Liam calls behind me. “I’m dressed.”

My entire body clenches up and I quickly glance around the hall. No one else is around. Thank god. I turn back to him, my fists balled up at my sides. “Will you keep it down? Someone could hear you!”

He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants now, but that’s it. His brows furrow together. “Why is that bad? I said I was dressed.”

“People are going to think you and I”—I gesture furiously at the space between us—“are doing something.”

“And…that is bad?” The lazy, flirty smile makes my ovaries flip.

But I remember Fort Tulsa and my reputation there. “Yes,” I say flatly. “You don’t know how bad it can be.” And I turn and leave again.

This time, he doesn’t follow me and I’m glad. Disappointed but glad. It’s easier this way. I’ve worked hard to establish myself with the group, to become someone new and strong and respected in Fort Shreveport. No matter how I’m attracted to Liam, I need Fort Shreveport.

This place is the only home I have left.