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Where Dragons Collide (Dragon Ridden Chronicles Book 5)

Page 28

by T. A. White


  Dewdrop flapped his good hand at her. “Give over. You should know by now none of us are abandoning you to face danger alone. Get used to it.”

  Tate huff sounded a little wet. “Stubborn ass.”

  “Takes one to know one,” Dewdrop said without opening his eyes.

  Ryu helped Tate up. “We should head back. The emperor needs to be made aware of the new situation.”

  Dewdrop opened one eye. “Not just him. If that crazy goddess is truly under Nathan’s control, the entire underground needs to be informed.”

  Dewdrop’s face was tight. More than any of them, he had friends spread throughout the Night Court. With Ai having switched sides, it meant every single person currently in her territory was in danger.

  “She’s not fully awakened,” Tate said suddenly.

  “How do you know?” Ryu asked.

  Tate shook her head. “A feeling.”

  She didn’t want to tell him the origin of that feeling rested in the data Christopher had passed to her—or the way it felt like certain things had been unlocked in Tate’s mind. Almost as if the barrier separating her from her memories had been removed. They crowded close, just waiting for her to reach for them.

  “Nor do I think Ai has fully fallen to him. Otherwise, we would already be dead.”

  Tate was under no illusion. Ai hesitated, only releasing the shock wave after Tate had reached Dewdrop. Though whether that was because of some lingering feelings of attachment to Tate or whether Ai was playing some deeper game, Tate didn’t know.

  Seeing the way Dewdrop listed to the side, relying more and more on the wall to remain upright, Tate shook herself free of her contemplation.

  “Let’s head up. We can talk about this later,” she said.

  “I don’t suppose we can avoid Night for the next however long it takes me to heal.”

  “What do you think?” Tate asked in an arch voice, knowing exactly what Dewdrop was worried about.

  “He’s going to treat me like an idiot cub, isn’t he?”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be worse than that.”

  Having an adventure without Night and then daring to get injured in the course of it? Oh yeah, Night was never going to let him hear the end of this.

  Tate felt a moment of levity. For once, it wasn’t her in the hot seat.

  Dewdrop groaned and staggered into the darkness.

  Tate’s smile died, disappearing as if it had never been as she glanced at the spot where Ai had stood.

  Ryu touched her shoulder. “Come on. There’s nothing you can do now.”

  Tate’s exhale was long and sad. He was right about that. There was no way to recover Christopher’s body, nor could she pursue Nathan. As soon as she took the first step into the tunnel, Ai would know and react.

  She closed her eyes and faced forward. “I know.”

  Even if it didn’t make her feel any better to admit that.

  SEVENTEEN

  The climb up felt like it took three times as long as their descent. They kept a fast pace, only taking brief rest breaks when absolutely needed. Tate’s legs were burning by the time they approached the sentry station separating the Deeps from the main building. The sentries’ reactions to their sudden appearance weren’t entirely surprising as the four moved to block Tate’s party, two drawing their swords while the other two maneuvered to press their back against the door.

  Tate’s group painted quite the picture; torn clothes splattered with blood, some of them sporting visible wounds. That didn’t even touch the fact that their escort was no longer with them and in her place was a prisoner so feared they’d thrown him to the deepest, darkest place in the hopes of forgetting he ever existed.

  That was why Tate didn’t take umbrage when the guards brandished their weapons and ordered them to halt.

  Tyne’s grin turned sly as he played with his bone sword. He took a single step forward only for Ryu to grab his shoulder and yank him back.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  Tyne pouted. “You used to be so much more fun.”

  Tate ignored the interchange, trusting Ryu would keep Tyne under control. She faced the guards, ignoring the way their grips tightened on their weapons. She understood their jumpiness, but if they took it too far, she’d act accordingly.

  Of course, she hoped that wasn’t necessary. It’d be somewhat hard to explain to the Lord Provost why some of his men’s limbs twisted in the wrong direction.

  “You’re going to want to get your boss,” she told them. “This is well above your pay grade.”

  For a moment the four didn’t move, until finally, the two in the rear shared an uncertain look. The one on the right, knocked softly on the door. After receiving an answering knock, he opened it before slipping through.

  Seeing that, Dewdrop slid to a seat on the stair where he’d been standing. “Don’t worry. We’ll wait.”

  The remaining three guards didn’t react to his taunt, their expressions vigilant and their weapons still raised. Tate pursed her lips, discarding the urge to warn them of how tiring their stances would become if their warden didn’t arrive soon. However they chose to wait was their business.

  In her mind, Dewdrop had the right mindset. Why stand when you could sit—especially after the day they’d just had.

  Tate didn’t waste time joining him on the hard steps. She put her back against the wall and stretched out her legs in front of her before giving the stair beside her a longing glance. She could just lay down fully. No one was stopping her. It might be a little cramped but that had never bothered her in the past.

  She debated for half a second before rejecting the idea. Although she didn’t think the guards would do anything given her and Ryu’s status, you never knew. Some people were simply too stupid to live. There was no reason to give them an opening.

  Tyne, on the other hand, didn’t have such reservations, as he found his own stair to stretch out on. He turned on his side, used his arms as a pillow, seemingly unbothered by the hard stone underneath him. There was no sign of discomfort. But he was accustomed to sleeping on cold, hard rock.

  Putting the former prisoner out of her mind, Tate looked up at Ryu who was the only one left standing and nodded at the stair next to her. He might as well get comfortable since the rest of them already had.

  His lips quirked as he took the seat Tate indicated. When he was settled, she let her weight rest against him, breathing in the smell that was uniquely him. The scent of thunderstorms wrapped around her.

  He moved his arm, pulling her closer. Tate closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder, letting herself relax into his comfort and warmth. Something she never thought would happen while sitting in a prison.

  Too soon the door opened again and a tall man with a barrel chest and the face of a boxer walked through. His nose was wide and mashed looking. His ears stuck out from his head and looked swollen and deformed from a condition known as cauliflower ear. It usually resulted when the ear was repeatedly subjected to trauma and was a known ailment for fighters.

  For the warden, those ears and his face made him look a bit like a brute. A rather smart brute who somehow inspired the loyalty of his subordinates.

  “What is going on here?” he barked, sweeping an impatient gaze over Tate’s party before locking on Tyne. The warden’s face flushed with anger. “What is he doing out of the incarceration level?”

  “Gregory, I’ve missed you,” Tyne said yawning and stretching. “How long has it been? A decade?”

  “Thirteen years,” Gregory said through gritted teeth. “The day you stopped being a man of honor and became someone willing to soak your hands in the blood of friends.”

  Tyne whistled. “It felt shorter.”

  Gregory focused on Tate and Ryu. “Are you responsible for breaking him out of his cell?”

  Dewdrop used the wall to stand. “Broke him out, my ass. Look at us. Do we look like we broke that asshole out of his cell because we wante
d to? No. Your shitty prison attacked us first and we had no choice but to defend ourselves. What kind of prison does that, huh?”

  Gregory’s harsh eyes narrowed on Dewdrop. “You look familiar?”

  Dewdrop put on an innocent expression, tugging at his ear lobe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Gregory nodded slowly as if remembering something. “The little thief said to be responsible for the blossom job down on Tierny Street. The one who belongs to the Lucius’s. You’re on my list.”

  Dewdrop’s expression moved through a variety of unsettling expression. First pride as if acknowledging his achievements, then worry, followed by a thinly veiled panic as he stared up at Gregory with a frozen expression.

  “My wanted list,” Gregory clarified in case they hadn’t understood what he’d meant by the word list. “Men.”

  Tate slid in front of Dewdrop before anyone could get any stupid ideas about arresting him. “That’s enough of that now. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to arrest the Lord Provost’s guests.”

  At least she really hoped not.

  “It depends on if they break my prisoners out of their carefully arranged cells,” Gregory said, not looking like he was backing down.

  Tyne folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “Shouldn’t he be more worried about the one who escaped?”

  Gregory’s expression turned thunderous. He didn’t move but his shoulders, chest, and arms seemed to swell as if he’d grown several inches in every direction.

  “What does he mean—the one who escaped?” Storm clouds gathered on Gregory’s face and his voice developed a low bass rumble.

  “How many ways can that be interpreted?” Dewdrop asked, squinting at the other man. “He’s gone. Disappeared. Vamoosed.”

  An oppressive feeling spilled out of Gregory, confirming a thought Tate had had when the warden puffed up like an animal who’d had a scare.

  Sleeper—or at least descended from one.

  “You’ll repeat it until it makes sense,” Gregory roared.

  Dewdrop gave Tate wide eyes. “I think he’s a tad hysterical. I really thought the empire’s people would be a little more collected in these situations.”

  Tate sent her friend a quelling look. “Can you please try not to make things more difficult?”

  Gregory’s expression had gone from stormy to apocalyptic, the other man in jeopardy of a full-on conniption fit.

  “Aren’t you going to do something?” Tate asked Ryu.

  He watched events with a small smile on his face. “Why? This is quite entertaining.”

  This time, Ryu was the target of Tate’s incredulous look. She’d always known Ryu had a bit of a twisted sense of humor, but she’d never realized it was this bad.

  Before the situation could escalate further, a furry creature dropped from the ceiling landing on its feet between Dewdrop and the warden.

  Night flicked his ears and lifted a paw, grooming it carefully. The rest of them glanced from the unconcerned Veles to the hole now present in the ceiling above the stair where Night had landed.

  “I don’t think that was there before,” Dewdrop observed in a neutral tone of voice.

  Tate chanced a peek at Gregory’s face only to find the man’s head down, his expression hidden. Anger practically rolled off him in waves, buffeting the rest of them.

  Tate aimed a glare at the Veles. “Why would you do that?”

  Because it’s fun.

  Tate shook her head, resisting the urge to slap a hand over her eyes. Why were all the males in her life so vexing?

  Ilith stirred. Fun?

  No. No fun, Tate told her sternly. She already had a Ryu, a Dewdrop, and a Veles. She couldn’t handle an Ilith too.

  Ilith sulked. Stingy. Always wanting the fun to yourself.

  Tate rolled her eyes mentally at the crazy dragon. She didn’t pay much attention as the door behind the warden opened silently, and a man stepped through.

  “Can someone explain to me what in the Creators’ nightmares is going on here?” Gregory asked through gritted teeth.

  “I’m interested in hearing that myself.” A smooth baritone came from behind Gregory as a man stepped into view, his expression placid as he took in the mini standoff.

  As he had been the last time Tate had seen him, the Obsidian Lord was clad entirely in black. His cloak made of a special material Tate recognized, one that could deflect most attacks, whether from a blade or something a little more unusual.

  In the next instant, Tate and Dewdrop’s accusing stares landed on Night, and he ignored them in the way only a feline could.

  That answered why he’d appeared so suddenly. He’d been following Archie—despite every order to the contrary.

  Tate looked up in bafflement at the hole. Though how he’d gotten into the secure section of the prison was something she’d dearly like to know.

  Or maybe not. She feared the knowledge would turn her hair white.

  “Would someone like to bring me up to date?” Archie asked in a pleasant tone that was nonetheless an order. The type that said he might be playing nice presently, but that could change in an instant if they didn’t respond how he wanted.

  Gregory reacted first. “They lost a prisoner.”

  “Relax, he didn’t get far before he died,” Dewdrop corrected in a sour voice.

  Gregory wasn’t listening as he stabbed a finger at Night. “And that ingrate put a hole in my beautiful prison. A hole.”

  Gregory appeared more upset about that last part than the first, his face flushing red. He’d been slowly deflating since Archie’s entrance but now puffed up again.

  Night watched the warden with a fascinated gaze, like he’d do something to get them in trouble if left untended.

  Startled surprise registered on Archie’s face as his attention jumped to Ryu and Tate at Dewdrop’s statement. “He doesn’t mean the man you came here to visit?”

  Tate looked away in guilt as Ryu answered after a short silence. “He does.”

  Archie fixed an arctic gaze on Tate. “Is this your doing?”

  “Why does everyone always blame me?”

  “You have a history,” Dewdrop informed her.

  “So do you.” Tate paused then pointed at Night. “Him too.”

  “We’re not talking about us. You’re our leader. All blame for our actions falls on you.”

  Tate choked. She didn’t remember agreeing to this.

  “Amusing, but not an answer,” Archie said, not looking away from Tate.

  “Why are you only asking me?”

  Forced patience chased across Archie’s face. “Because you’re the one who requested the interrogation. An interrogation, I might add, that interfered with my own access to him.”

  When put that way, Tate could see why Archie was being so demanding.

  Tate glanced at Ryu, feeling a sense of guilt. He gave her a pleasant expression, telling her without words that this was up to her to solve.

  Her shoulders bent. “The system went crazy while we were speaking with Christopher. It attacked us and I’m pretty sure killed everyone else. We’re the only survivors. Christopher managed to slip out in the confusion. We tracked him into the tunnels and found his dead body.”

  Tate left out the part where he’d passed his memories to her via his palm and the attack from Ai. She had no intention of concealing the second, since it concerned the safety of those in the tunnels, but now wasn’t the time or place.

  “You’re telling me three dragon-ridden and a banshee couldn’t stop one full human?” Archie cocked an eyebrow and gave them a mocking smile. “Forgive me, but I’m sure you can see why I find that hard to believe.”

  When he said it like that, it was hard to argue.

  “You try fighting against a dozen of those sentinels,” Dewdrop grumbled. “We’re lucky we’re still alive.”

  He touched his broken arm with a grimace, looking depressed all over again.

  At that, Night’s nose twi
tched, and his head lifted. There was a look in his eyes as he glanced in Dewdrop’s direction. Seeing his friend’s arm in a sling and his mouth twisted in pain, Night stood and ambled in his direction.

  Dewdrop’s expression blanched. “Tate.”

  She shook her head. “You’re on your own.”

  No way was she getting between Night and him right now.

  The Veles stopped in front of Dewdrop, his gaze fixed on the injured arm. He looked up at the boy.

  Idiot.

  Dewdrop bit his lip, looking miserable.

  Night showed his teeth. Double the training when you’re healed.

  Dewdrop flinched but didn’t argue. The outcome was to be expected.

  Tate didn’t know if it was just Night or if Veles males were the natural caregivers of their species, but Night took Tate and Dewdrop’s safety as seriously as he did his cubs. Of course, the form of his care often divulged from the traditional definition of caregiving in hilarious and unexpected ways, but no one could say heart and soul wasn’t put into assuring their wellbeing.

  Night’s tail whacked Tate’s leg in accusation. Despite how careful he was not to penetrate the skin with his barbs, it still hurt.

  “And the traitor?” Archie asked.

  “The prison could no longer be relied on to hold him,” Ryu finally spoke. “I decided to keep him close so as to keep a better eye on him.”

  Archie appeared unmoved by the explanation. “How sure are you he didn’t have anything to do with this incident?”

  Ryu paused to look in Tyne’s direction. “I will never make the mistake of vouching for that man again. Whether he does or not, he couldn’t be left unsupervised. This was the only alternative.”

  “Very well.”

  Dewdrop raised his head. “Does that mean we can go?”

  Despite the tough front Dewdrop was putting up, his expression was growing increasingly miserable. The pain from his arm had given him a pinched look and he held himself gingerly as if afraid to move because pain was waiting for him as soon as he did.

  At a look from Archie, the warden bit out a harsh, “Fine.”

  Dewdrop released a breath and started up, Night shadowing him in the event he passed out.

 

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