by Alisa Woods
He surprises me again by reaching for my hand, but this time, it’s the other one—the one with the birthmark. Uh oh. Here it comes.
“When a new dragon is formed, his soul is broken in two.” He traces the circle on my wrist with his fingertip. “The other half is born in a human woman. We call her Dragon Spirited, and she’s the one who is destined to become his mate. Only when they’ve been joined again, can he reach his full powers. And the woman as well—only when her spirit is whole will her dragon powers manifest in her body.”
My heart is doing that jittery thing. “You’re saying she becomes a dragon.”
“Yes.” That goofy look takes over his face. “Very few of the Dragon Spirited are marked—it’s exceedingly rare, in fact—but you are, Ember. This…” He lightly taps my birthmark. “Reveals your true nature.”
I pull back my hand. “Yeah… I don’t think so.” This is suddenly feeling like an elaborate setup.
He leans back and props his arm on the back of the couch. “I knew you wouldn’t believe it.”
I scowl at him. “It’s a little strange.”
He shrugs. And he did say that, too. “As for why that matters… only a mated dragon comes into his full powers. One of which is a venom capable of killing even a Vardigah.”
“That’s why they tried to wipe you out?” That part makes sense. Maybe.
“Not only us—the witches too.”
“There are witches too?” For the love of news hour…
He grins. “Think about it, Ms. Dubois. If the other half of your soul lived in one very specific person on the planet… and if that person was the one and only person you could ever hope to mate with… how would you find them?”
I frown. “That’s a logistical nightmare.”
“Indeed.” He almost laughs but reins it in. “Which is why we need the witches. Their divination powers can identify the Dragon Spirited among the humans—they would, in essence, tell us who our soul mates were. In trade, we kept them supplied with many magical artifacts, including on occasion, some of those bodily fluids.” His humor fades. “It was a good life. A life I thought would be mine. I’d assumed…” He peers off through the open doors to the balcony. “One should never assume.”
My chest tightens. “Wait, so… the witches are gone, and most of the dragons, too, and you don’t know who your soul mates are, so you can’t mate, which I’m guessing means you can’t make baby dragons…” The horror of it finally sinks in.
He turns back with a pained smile. “Yes, we are dying out, Ms. Dubois.”
Four
Niko
Ember’s been quiet ever since I told her the stark truth.
My people won’t last much longer.
That stopped the barrage of questions—in fact, she’s been quieter than any other twenty-minute stretch in the short time I’ve known her. I asked if she had more questions, but she waved me off, stepping out onto the balcony to stare off into the night. Eventually, I offered her a ride back to the castle, which she accepted with a wordless nod. The heat of her riding on my neck, clenching me with her legs, makes my blood sing and my cock ache, but doing anything about that is a long way off—probably never. I might have blown this already, unsettling her with too much, too fast, and I haven’t even explained what comes next. What I need from her.
She’s silent the entire ride.
I land as gently as I can then sink to the floor to let her dismount. She drifts inside my apartment, her brow furrowed. I wait until she’s out of sight to shift, then hastily dress—no need to flash her again. That part was probably unsettling enough before she knew dragons mated with women—specifically women like her. Not that she knows how special she is. Or believes any of it.
Her silence is killing me—have I screwed this up already?
“Can I get you something to drink?” I’m still buttoning the cuffs of Aleks’s shirt. At least I’ve gotten my shifting under control again. It’s been so long since I’ve had to shift out of clothes. Normally, I just disrobe for my weekly retreat from the castle and all the problems of the world. I rarely have to impress a human woman who doesn’t know a thing about our kind. By the time the potential mates reach me, they’ve already been with most of the lair.
She’s not answering me, just staring at the painting above the fireplace. It’s a rendering of the lair in Athens. I painted it from memory. “Ember?” I’m starting to think something is terribly wrong.
She touches the gilded frame with just her fingertips. “Is this your home?”
“Yes.” She’s sharp. And fearless. Not to mention gorgeous with that long dark-brown hair, porcelain skin, and a body that’s lethal and sexy as hell. Whoever her mate is, he’ll be one lucky dragon when she finds him.
She turns frowning. “Do you ever go back?”
“No.”
She nods, not asking for an explanation.
I like it better when she’s barraging me with questions. “My life is here now. With my brother dragons. There are three other lairs—one in Europe, two in Asia. None are the original ones that were destroyed. They’re all much smaller, like ours. We’re the largest at forty dragons strong. Most seek out the support of a lair, but some dragons have gone rogue, just circulating through the human world. We’re all trying to rebuild.”
“Trying to find your mates.” Her eyes are wide, solemn.
“Yes.” Which loosens the tension in my chest a little. She’s giving me a chance to explain. Which means maybe I haven’t messed this up completely. “We bring as many women through as we can plausibly manage, then determine if they’re the soul mate of someone in the lair. If not, they may circulate out to the other lairs.”
She frowns and rubs the broken-circle birthmark, but I can see her curiosity spark back to life. “I don’t understand. You said my birthmark was rare. If these women don’t have it, then how can you tell if someone is Dragon Spirited? And if they are, how do you know which dragon is their soul mate?”
I step closer and gently take her hand, holding her wrist up between us. “It would be so much easier if every Dragon Spirit had a mark like yours.” I release her. “There are two steps to a mating. In the first, the Dragon Spirit is revealed by a connection—an intimate connection. Each half of the soul recognizes the other, but only if they are laid bare.”
Her eyes narrow. “Sex. You have sex with lots of women to find out if they’re your soul mate.”
I grin. “Well, that would work, too. But usually, a kiss is sufficient.”
Her face scrunches up. “A kiss? Like in the fairy tales. You kiss Snow White, and she wakes up to be a dragon.”
My laugh erupts like a hiccup. “Uh, no… not exactly?” I shake my head. “I’ve never heard it described that way.” I try to tame my smile. “But no. I couldn’t steal a kiss. Or force one for that matter. It has to be a True Kiss.”
“I’m sorry, a what now?” She’s scowling at me like I’m having fun with her, making this stuff up. Which I’m not, but I’ve seen worse reactions. Just like she flew on a dragon’s back as if it were a stroll in the park, she’s taking this all in tremendous stride. Which just convinces me more of her dragon nature.
I tilt my head and peer at her. “A True Kiss is one that opens your heart and makes it soar. Don’t tell me you’ve never had a kiss like that.”
Her expression opens again, becoming softer. “Once or twice.”
I smile, but it’s painful. “I’ve had hundreds. More, actually, but I stopped counting. Each time, I open my soul, hoping it will find its other half. Obviously, that hasn’t happened yet.”
“You’re not mated?” She seems breathless.
I huff a laugh. “I would have thought that was obvious.” I give her a pointed look.
Her eyebrows lift, and an Ohhh expression takes over. “You’re supposed to give me a True Kiss.”
“A True Kiss is shared, not given.” I can’t quite suppress the smile.
She scowls again. “Hang on. I tho
ught you said my mark already shows I’m one of these Dragon Spirits. You don’t need a kiss to see that.”
“A True Kiss doesn’t reveal whether you’re Dragon Spirited; it would only reveal whether you’re my soul mate.” And I’m so tempted to just close the distance between us and kiss her now. So very tempted. But I know she’s not ready. And pushing too fast is far worse than waiting too long. Too fast, and she might reject it all … and not just me. She’s giving me a suspicious look like she expects me to jump over and plant one on her. “I highly doubt I’m lucky enough to be the one,” I say, trying to bring down that expectation. “I’m not supposed to convince you to kiss me, Ember. I’m supposed to convince you to kiss every one of my brother dragons until you find the one who’s your mate.”
Her eyes go wide and then she blinks, once, twice, her body jolting a little each time as if the thought is delivering shocks to her mind. “Every… one… what the fuck, I’m not doing that!”
I try not to wince. “I know it’s all so sudden and overwhelming. I just want you to consider…” I stop because my phone is buzzing in my pocket, and there’s no way anyone would be interrupting me right now if it wasn’t a full-blown emergency. “Excuse me.” I dig out my phone. It’s a message from Aleks. No one’s seen the sister. Should I take it outside? We’ve made more than one useful contact in the outside world, people with various levels of knowledge about our situation. Bankers to handle our money. Investment advisors to make the most of it. A couple contacts within law enforcement who’ve been very helpful on occasion. And as much as I want Ember to find her mate, I have all the time in the world to convince her—whereas her sister, also a marked soul mate, is in danger somewhere. And that lights up the protective instincts of the entire lair. Come to my apartment and wait outside the door for me, I text back.
“Everything okay?” Ember asks, the shock momentarily banished. I’m sure she’ll remember later to be outraged about my suggestion that she share deep, soulful kisses with dozens of men she doesn’t know, hoping one might be bound to her forever. And she still doesn’t understand it all.
I stow my phone. “Aleks says no one’s seen your sister. What’s her name?”
Her shoulders drop. “Cinder Dubois.”
Ember. Cinder. It doesn’t escape me the fiery names their parents gave them. I’m sure they had no idea, but the dragon spirit can be strong, even in the womb.
“Have you filed a missing person’s report?” I assume she has gotten nowhere with that or she wouldn’t have been in my office, taking matters into her own hands.
“She’s only been gone for two days.” She grimaces, which I don’t quite understand. “There’s no sign of foul play. The police took the report, but they said she could have just left town for the weekend. I’m pretty sure they filed it in the trash can.” She sighs. “I was just sure she’d come here.”
“That’s a start.” I beckon her toward the front. “I’m going to see what we can do to track her down.” Her eyes light up with hope. “No promises,” I say quickly, “but I’ve got a few favors I can pull in. Meanwhile, you need some time to, well, think about things. I know this is all really sudden. But I don’t want you leaving the castle, just for your own safety. You’ve got forty dragons here who would give their lives to protect you. It’s literally the safest place on the planet for you right now. Just in case whatever happened to your sister comes looking for you.”
She frowns but follows me to the door. “You think I’m in danger.”
“I honestly don’t know what to think.” And it’s the truth. “I’ve never had a marked Dragon Spirit walk into my lair before.” I give her a small smile.
“Yeah, I’m still not so sure about that.” She’s wrinkling her nose at me again.
“I know.” I open the door, and Aleks is waiting outside. He snaps to attention and stuffs his phone away. “Aleks, find a room for Ms. Dubois. And I want two dragons guarding the door, all night. She might need some food and a change of clothes—get her whatever she needs.” I lift my eyebrows to her. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything about your sister. Acceptable?”
“I suppose.” She grimaces. “Yes. Thank you for your help.”
“We will find her,” I vow again. And that’s a promise I can easily make. Two Dragon Spirits might be enough to keep my lair going for a few more years. Enough to keep the despair at bay.
She nods.
“Do you like balconies or swimming pools?” Aleks asks with a too-eager smile. I recognize my stab of jealously even as I plaster an encouraging smile on my face for Ember to go with him.
Ember scowls. “I like any room stocked with a large bottle of vodka.”
My smile becomes a real one.
“We can absolutely arrange that.” Aleks would arrange to have croissants flown from Paris, a flock of white doves, and a troupe of circus aerialists delivering champagne if she asked.
It physically hurts me to watch her walk away next to another dragon. I am so fucked with this. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that there’s real hope for my brother dragons for the first time in forever.
I close the door and focus on how to find a woman who looks just like the one I’m already falling for.
Five
Ember
I sleep so hard my drool is running off the pillow and getting the sheets wet.
Ugh. I drag myself out of the infinitely soft bed. The “room” Aleks found for me is more opulent than a presidential suite at a five-star hotel. The bed is huge, with four posts and gauzy white netting. I have two balconies—one off the bedroom and another off the sitting room. The jacuzzi in the bathroom is built for a party of four, the wide-screen TV fills an entire wall, and there’s a fully-stocked bar tucked in the corner. Once I was alone, I slammed back two shots just to take the edge off an insane day. It took two more before I could get my mind to stop racing and finally float into a buzzed-out sleep.
Forty dragons. It’s both way too many to kiss and nowhere near enough to rebuild a population. Even at four times that—assuming the other lairs have just as many—that’s barely at the minimum number required for a viable society. I did a piece on it once, looking at everything from indigenous tribes, endangered species, Martian colonies, and how many people you would send on an interstellar spaceship. Turns out no one really knows the minimum viable population—estimates range from 100 to 14,000. But there’s literally no one who says forty is enough.
And because the dragons can’t find their mates, the real number is much smaller.
Nikolais’s people are truly dying out.
Once that hit me, I couldn’t think about anything else. All this craziness about soul mates and True Kisses fades when I think about these Vardigah trying to exterminate an entire people—and it looks like they’ll succeed in the end. Yet Nikolais seems so convinced that I can help save them. Which, yes, I want to but… that means kids. Probably lots of kids. And, I guess, some hot guy who’s my “soul mate.” But those things weren’t part of my plan. I mean, I’ve had plenty of hot guys in my life. They’re fun for a while, and then I get back to the serious work that I do for a living—reporting on the atrocities around the world, especially how women and girls pay the heaviest price, including this trafficking documentary that Cinder and I are working. That we were working before I left her alone for ten fatal seconds that knocked the stuffing out of her. Once I find her—I refuse to entertain any other option—all my focus has to be on getting my beautiful sister back to the shining spirit she is… not dragging her into this crazy dragon business. But how can I avoid that when Nikolais seems to think we’re both key to saving his people?
Fuck. This is so messed up.
I haul myself out of the expansive bed and stumble into the main room. There’s breakfast laid out on the table next to the balcony—because I’m apparently some pampered princess now. I sit down and inhale the omelet, croissants, fruit, and juice. When I stop to breathe, I lean back and gaze out at the be
auty of the Thousand Islands. I can see why Nikolais chose this place. It’s so remote his dragons can stretch their wings without attracting too much notice. And they can circulate a constant stream of visitors for “parties” to at least attempt to find mates. No one within sight on the nearest islands. No neighbors to complain. Do the dragon men really just kiss all those women I saw parading through the main hall last night? At least one couple took it further. Does that happen a lot? Does it get old? Does it get lonely?
Those questions apply uncomfortably well to my chaotic sex life.
Damn, my mind won’t shut off with this.
I drag my ass into the giant stone-and-brass bathroom. There’s a neatly folded pile of clothes next to the towels, another gift for the princess. I step into the shower—the head is two feet across and gushes like I’m standing in a downpour. It feels good to just let the water drench me, but eventually, I get busy with cleaning up. The clothes that magically appeared while I slept are extremely well-made. Some designer I vaguely recognize, but it’s essentially black pants and a silky white blouse. Even the underwear is fancy. My hair takes forever to dry, so I just towel it off and let it go. In the mirror, I look like a half-drowned socialite who fell in the pool after doing heroin… but it’s not drugs, or even shots of vodka, that’s put shadows under my eyes.
What the hell do I do?
This isn’t a story, that much is clear. It’s much bigger. It has the same expansive feel as when I discovered that sex trafficking ring as part of my story on corruption in the NYC government offices. Powerful men trading access to girls—many underage, all abused—as if they were merely trinkets. Sex toys for them to use and abuse. Those fucking assholes destroyed girls’ lives and went right back to their families and powerful jobs like it was nothing. Like they were entitled to it. Reporting on that story wasn’t enough for me—I had to do something. That’s when the documentary project was born. With Cinder as my camerawoman, the two of us would do what we did best—tell the story of these girls’ lives. We would shine a ten thousand watt spotlight on the whole rancid business. If we did it right, we’d get those girls the help they needed, raise money for relief organizations, and bring the public into the fight. The documentary would essentially crowd-source the detection of trafficking, so everyday people everywhere would learn how to see trafficking and stop it. Maybe that would make a difference. Maybe we could rescue these girls and women held like slaves and sold ten times a day to these animals who didn’t care who they fucked or what damage it caused.