CHAPTER 23: SOMETHING’S FISHY

It wasn’t just his imagination.

Riley ticked off the list in his head as he followed from a distance.

One. That young one’s eyes kept switching. Gold. Normal. Then back to gold again.

Two. He didn’t look pristine like the other dragons Riley had seen. Not polished. Not glowing. Just tired.

Three. He was dragging his feet like a man being led to taxes. He looked like Riley every Monday, or honestly, like every day.

Four. And most importantly—

It smelled like fish and too much salt water. And while that’s not bad by itself, it was uncanny when there was a supposed dragon around.

Merfolk.

Again. Dammit.

Riley followed them discreetly, pulling up his hood like a bargain spy who lived in this area. It seemed they were making an effort to blend with the place.

They turned into a side street, and soon he found himself tailing them behind an old convenience stall, then past a narrow alley, and finally—

A dumpster area?

A dragon heading for the dumpsters? Even if he wanted to turn a blind eye to this, it would’ve been difficult to even justify that to himself.

How cliché is that? This was practically the universal site of sketchy business. Did they learn this from humans?

They probably did.

He didn’t have a magical orb with him. Supposedly, today was his day off.

But thankfully, he had his phone. Low battery. Cracked screen. No stabilizer. But still recording.

Riley kept his distance. He couldn’t risk getting too close. Magical beings were annoyingly good at picking up things—intentions, breathing, existential dread.

He leaned behind a rusted trash bin and zoomed in.

The two older guys were saying something. Couldn’t hear. The young dragon was frowning now. His body language had shifted. He looked uncomfortable. And if he was really a dragon, he was likely annoyed.

A second later, he jerked back.

Then someone punched him in the gut.

Riley flinched.

Then—

BZZZZT BZZZZT BZZZZT.

His alarm blared from his coat pocket.

For Kael’s usual afternoon snack.

Fuck!

He momentarily stiffened, shocked at his lapse before slapping it quiet. Too late.

Three heads turned.

Riley blinked.

They blinked.

Everyone paused.

Then chaos.

The two fish goons lunged at him, instantly recognizing he was human. Unarmed. Alone.

Probably, in fact, very likely disposable.

Riley cursed and scrambled back, but the taller one was already lifting a hand.

Water gathered midair, shaping fast.

The attack came. A blade of water.

But his ring flashed.

A golden shimmer flickered just in time and deflected the blow.

They stopped.

Riley stopped.

Even the poor dragon teen stopped.

The goons changed tactics.

They turned back to the boy.

The taller one barked something Riley couldn’t understand. The water in the air thickened and rushed around the teen.

A bubble.

Trapped.

The boy clawed at it, suddenly struggling to breathe.

Riley panicked. He had no real offensive abilities. No backup that could possibly arrive before he turned into sashimi. No Kael.

Just himself.

A ring.

A sigil.

And—

A taser.

He pulled it from his jacket like a holy relic. Riley Hale was a full-fledged human, and while he figured he wasn’t really a match for magical beings, he was still someone who protected himself against what he could manage: other humans.

Therefore, Riley, a responsible young adult, carried a taser.

"Saints help me," he muttered. "But electricity beats seafood."

One of the fish-men lunged.

Riley saw the motion before it even finished. The twist of the shoulder. The tension in the elbow. It was like watching a punch underwater.

Either they were slow... or he’d just been bullied one too many times to not see it coming.

He ducked low. Real low. Felt the rush of air slice past the top of his head as the man’s fist missed and followed through. His knees hit the ground, but he didn’t stop.

Momentum carried him forward.

The taser was already in his grip. His fingers clenched around it like a lifeline.

And he drove it up into the guy’s exposed side.

The zap cracked through the air with a violent, glorious sound.

Electricity arced. The man spasmed, eyes wide and mouth locked open in a silent choke.

He dropped.

Hard.

Like a puppet whose strings had been yanked and set on fire.

Riley turned in time to see the second one roar.

He didn’t wait. He couldn’t.

His body moved before he thought. Pure reflex. Pure survival.

He lunged—not graceful, not clean—but full-body, all-muscle panic forward.

The second guy raised a hand, water swirling, but it was too late.

Riley collided into him like a brick with unresolved trauma.

Taser met thigh.

Another violent crack of energy.

The second goon stiffened, twitched, then folded to the ground with a wet thud. Steam rose from his coat.

For one glorious second, there was silence.

Then—

Crack.

The water bubble shattered.

Liquid splashed across the alley floor like broken glass. The young dragon collapsed to his hands and knees, coughing hard. His chest heaved. His hands trembled. The gold in his eyes pulsed like fire just barely under control.

Riley staggered back, panting.

His lungs felt like fire. His arms shook. He wasn’t sure if his heart was racing from the fight or the sheer disbelief that he had won.

He raised a hand, palm open.

"Not a threat," he rasped. "Just stupid. Also... official."

He fumbled for his badge.

The kid looked up at him.

And for a brief second, Riley saw it.

Recognition.

Not of his face.

But of the seal on the ID.

The young dragon hadn’t said a word. He just stared. Chest still rising and falling like his lungs hadn’t caught up to what just happened.

He didn’t run. But he didn’t relax either.

Shoulders tense. Hands half-curled. Muscles ready to bolt.

Rightfully so. And just in case needed.

Riley, still hunched over and catching his breath, raised a hand slowly. Not threatening. Just tired.

"I’m gonna call my boss," he said between puffs. "But we need to move. Somewhere safer."

He glanced at the two unconscious merfolk on the ground.

There was no rope.

Not that rope would even work on them anyway.

Not without spellbinding.

Not with water-users.

Not when he didn’t even have a decent shoelace on him.

The dragon teen’s jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed in distrust. There was a flicker of gold again.

Riley sighed and waved the badge weakly.

"Lord Kael Dravaryn," he said. "That’s my boss."

The teen flinched at the name.

"And even if you had a complaint about it," Riley added, "there’s no way he wouldn’t find out about this. Sorry."

That seemed to do the trick.

The boy didn’t answer. He didn’t bolt either.

Riley fumbled his phone out.

He didn’t call Kael directly.

For one, Kael could never keep phones.

Or touch screens.

Or anything without it burning, freezing, or disintegrating during a mood swing.

So, emergency lines it was.

As it rang, Riley crouched down again and pulled out the taser.

He gave the nearest merfolk another zap.

The body jerked with a sharp jolt. A wet twitch of limbs and reflex.

The dragon teen startled. His breath hitched.

He looked at Riley like he had just committed sacrilege.

Riley straightened, slipping the taser back into his coat.

He gave the boy a professional smile. One he had practiced in meetings where someone had been set on fire mid-negotiation.

"Sorry about that. Ministry protocol," he said. "We don’t like taking chances."

Then he rubbed his temple.

"Also," he muttered, "that one was personal. It was my day off."

He looked at the ruined alley, the water bubble remains, the unconscious fish goons, and then at the dragon teen still staring at him like he wasn’t sure if he was the hero or the final boss.

Riley sighed again.

"Well," he said flatly. "Not anymore."