Callan
Callan,
Please join us upstairs for some breakfast and introductions. We promise we don’t bite. Hard.
- The Dragon Tower Residents
He turned the stiff placard over, but all that was written was “Penthouse” and a number, likely the elevator code to get there. He’d noticed it on the ground in front of the elevator shaft that opened directly onto his suite, meaning that someone had come into his apartment during the night. It irked him he hadn’t awoken to it, but thankfully they’d meant well.
The rumbling of his stomach told him it wanted to eat, which meant breakfast was a good idea as well. He’d so far avoided meeting any of the others, but it would appear he was going to end up doing so after all.
The Dragon Tower. So that’s what it’s coming to be called now?
It had started off as a normal apartment building, but after the government had started to awaken more dragons, they’d realized they needed more space to house them. So in typical over-the-top fashion they’d simply bought the entire building and started renovations on all thirty-odd stories of it, turning each floor into one or two suites per story, giving the dragons plenty of room to stretch their wings.
He was lucky enough to be near the top, but it appeared today he was going to visit the penthouse and meet the residents. Callan was aware of most of their names from the briefings he’d had upon being awoken and informed of his reentry into a very changed world.
Corde and Vanek occupied the penthouse suite itself, but there was also another Onyx dragon like him, Thorne, who was supposedly a floor above him. He’d not seen or heard of him since awakening, but that didn’t mean much. Black dragons were notoriously private, unlike many of their siblings who enjoyed being sociable.
Getting into the elevator, he punched the code for the penthouse he’d been provided, and it whisked him upward, opening seconds later as he was ushered through a broad hallway that ended in a T-junction at the edge of the building. Windows stretched away to his left and right, and stairs just to the left brought him the sounds—and delicious smells—of people eating.
“Hello the house,” he called in a traditional greeting.
“Hello,” a powerful voice returned, footsteps heading his way. “Who is that?”
“It’s Callan. I received an invitation for food and chat.”
“Excellent.” A monstrosity of a man with black hair down just past his shoulders appeared at the top and came down, big bushy eyebrows of an equal darkness highlighting the slight olive tinge to his skin. He beamed and shook Callan’s hand in his gargantuan meaty grip. “Welcome! Come on. Let’s get you fed. There’s plenty to go around if we get back before Corde takes seconds.”
“I heard that!”
Muted laughter followed the banter, and Callan immediately found himself relaxing. In old times, the meeting of dragons could be something one wished to avoid at all costs. But it seemed that these ones at least were more relaxed and inviting, willing to socialize. He wondered how long that would last.
Introductions were made all around. He met the other giant of a red dragon, Corde, a man with jet-black hair and eyes of perfect graphite gray. Then there were their mates, Harlow and Kylie, two women who he could instantly see complemented the dragons, magnifying their strengths and covering for their weaknesses. The power of their partnership, of their mated bond, was evident to the naked eye for all to see.
Callan envied them that bond, and found himself once more mourning Beatrice. If only he’d been given more time, he could have made her see, could have saved her.
“Help yourself,” Kylie told him, her violet eyes twinkling happily as she dodged a questing hand from Corde on the way back to the kitchen herself.
“I was told there was another dragon shifter here as well,” he remarked, piling his plate high with scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, sausage links, and even a couple of pancakes. “Another onyx dragon?”
“Oh, Thorne?” Vanek asked. “He’s back over at Fort Banner with the dragon riders. I’ll be going back there shortly myself. I’m just on leave right now, visiting Harlow.”
“The…what?”
“Dragon riders. Dragons paired with battlesuited humans to form a fighting tandem.” The mane of black hair bounced excitedly as he started to talk about it.
“Hush,” Harlow said, jumping in. “Our guest doesn’t want to hear about that.”
Vanek look saddened, but he didn’t fight it. “So, Callan, what brings you to Barton City? Looking for your mate?”
He hesitated, a piece of bacon halfway to his mouth. Not sure how to answer the question he started chewing on the bacon, glad for the reprieve. The others continued to eat as well, waiting for him to answer when he finished.
“No,” he said at last, going for the simple answer. “I’m here to get a better feel for the modern world, to understand what is going on, and why everyone is so adamant that I must fight for them.”
Vanek and Corde exchanged knowing looks. “You want to know why we decided to fight, don’t you?” Corde asked at last.
Callan winced at the judgment he felt coming his way, but forced himself to nod anyway. “Yes. I do.”
“It’s simple really,” Corde said. “I want to create the best world possible for my mate. That means ensuring there is a world for her.”
Beside him Kylie leaned in close, resting her head on his shoulder as she happily finished a sausage link. Callan watched the interaction, his understanding of Corde’s reasons growing.
“It was similar for me,” Vanek said. “I saw what was coming, what will be here in a few years’ time. If I don’t fight, everyone dies, including me. If I do fight, then maybe some don’t die. It’s unlikely that I survive, but what if my mate does? What if our children, if we’re lucky enough to have them by then, survive? I see that as worth fighting for.”
“We’d better have some children by then,” Harlow said sternly.
“I’m surprised you don’t already, judging by how often we hear the bed squeaking,” Corde coughed under his breath.
Harlow’s face went red and Vanek scowled at him. “I tightened the screws, okay? Knock it off.”
Kylie was busy laughing into her hand, the entire group obviously full of joy and happiness. Callan looked around them as they all accepted the given reasons fully, knowing them to be right. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t work that way.
His mate was dead…wasn’t she?
The powerful vibration of his phone in his pocket surprised Callan and he jumped slightly in place in response, drawing the attention of everyone there. The number was blocked, which seemed odd.
He answered it, well aware of all the attention focused on him. “Hello?”
“What the hell is wrong with you, Callan?”
“Colonel Mara?” he asked in astonishment. What the hell was she doing calling him?
“Yes, the one and only,” she snapped. “Now, answer my question.”
He fumbled for an answer, having precisely no clue what the military woman was talking about. “Nothing. I’m healthy as a dragon,” he replied at last, wondering if she’d heard he was sick or something.
“Very funny. How about you tell me just how badly you managed to fuck this thing up and can the pathetic jokes?”
The group around him could obviously hear every word, and they were all snickering and trying not to smile as he was reamed out by the woman who had been the first real person the dragons met upon awakening.
Callan didn’t find the situation quite as funny. “It would help,” he growled, his voice growing deeper as he spoke, “if you would quit berating me and use actual words, facts, and statistics to explain what it is you’re referring to. Since it’s obvious I am unaware of anything being fucked up. How does that sound?”
He thought for a moment she’d hung up on him, but the unmistakable sound of teeth grinding together became faintly audible thanks to his stellar hearing, and he realized he’d managed to truly piss her off. Which was likely not the best of ideas, as Colonel Mara was one of the few people with the authority to unleash enough force to take even him down.
Corde, Vanek, and even Harlow were looking at him in varying degrees of horror, like they couldn’t believe he would speak to her that way.
“Kallore is going to kill you,” Corde said softly, eyes wide and shaking his head back and forth repeatedly. “Oh man, you are so dead.”
Callan rolled his eyes, but didn’t want to respond for fear of being heard. Kallore was Colonel Mara’s mate, a brute of a red dragon and from what he’d understood, very protective.
“Very well, Callan.” Her voice was ice cold, completely devoid of any warmth. “How about you explain to me just how you managed to fuck up so badly that Kathryn had to call the city this morning and withdraw herself from the program?”
He stared at the phone, speechless. Kathryn had withdrawn? Why? And secondly, why the hell did Colonel Mara care about that?
“Well?”
“Kathryn is out?” It was all he could come up with.
“Yes. She left the program, said to ensure you didn’t come around anymore. Since I was the one who pulled strings to get you assigned there in the first place, they of course called me and yelled at me over my candidate.”
“Oh shit,” Vanek whispered softly. “No wonder she’s pissed.”
“What the hell…” Callan was at a loss for words, the revelation that Kathryn didn’t want him around anymore hitting him hard. His stomach felt empty and aching, his heart dull. The colors leached from the objects around him and he felt a strange drifting sensation fill his body.
The pain struck a moment later, snapping everything back into vivid clarity and then taking it a notch beyond, overwhelming his senses for a brief second as his stomach reeled from emotional punch after emotional punch, hammerblows descending upon him.
“You need to explain what’s going on, Callan, and soon.”
“Since when?”
“This morning.”
“I don’t understand.” He sat back into the couch, running fingers through his khaki-blond hair, pulling it hard to the side to ensure it stayed off his forehead. “Everything was fine when I left there last night.”
Colonel Mara sounded like she was choking. “Last night? You were there last NIGHT? Why the hell were you at Kathryn’s place past six, Callan? There are rules in place for a reason, you know!”
“What the hell’s the big deal?” he complained. “Didn’t you want me getting involved with humans in the first place?”
A wordless snarl erupted from the phone so loud he snatched the black object away from his ear.
“Go fix this, Callan. Fix it now.” The line went dead for real this time.
He stared at the little black object of fascinating technology for several seconds, then glanced up at his audience. “What the hell is her problem? I don’t understand. Wasn’t I doing what she wanted?”
The others sort of leaned back, letting Vanek handle it.
“Colonel Mara is, to say the least, a tricky one.”
Callan waited, but Vanek didn’t continue.
“That’s it? That’s all? She’s tricky?”
“Whatever she’s doing will have several reasons I’m sure,” Vanek told him, before sitting back with the others, making it clear that he wasn’t going to say more on that subject. “So who’s Kathryn?”
Callan quickly told them about the program.
Corde chimed in almost immediately. “Is she your mate?”
Yes.
The cry of his dragon in response to the question was unavoidable, but Callan shoved it aside. Maybe she was. But he wasn’t ready to accept that.
“No,” he said heavily. “I lost my mate long ago.”
The room was filled with silence until Harlow spoke up again. “Be that as it may, it seems you upset this woman. I think you should probably go and try to fix things with her. Apologize at least, for whatever it is you did. It’s obvious you don’t hate her.”
Callan nodded, his brain elsewhere as he replayed the events of the night before. Where had he gone wrong? What had he done to make her hate him so much she didn’t want him coming around?
“Yeah. Yeah! I should do that.” Committing to his course of action, he rose from his seat at the massive table. “Thank you so much for breakfast, but I have to be going.”
Harlow and the others all smiled happily. “Go make it right,” she added as he left.
Callan was going to do just that. Now all he had to do was figure out what he’d done wrong first.