by Tricia Barr
“Thank you,” she said, uncertain how to feel about Draven’s gift.
“Anything for my daughter,” he said, the intensity of his gaze making her blush and turn away. “Only a week, you say? Then you haven’t been taught anything about this side of yourself.”
She shook her head, blindly fingering her new necklace.
“What have you been taught? Have you discovered your harpy abilities yet?”
She narrowed her eyes at him, remembering why she should be angry at him. “Just how many different species’ DNA did you put in me?” If there were any other shifters waiting to jump out of her, she had the right to know.
“Harpy and Ursa.”
“No others?” she interrogated, narrowing her eyes further, as if she could force the truth out of him.
“No. I’ve been splicing shifter genes for several decades, and those were the two that worked best together and were least likely to result in mitosis failure or prenatal death.”
Several things about that rubbed her the wrong way. “How many times did you run this experiment on unborn children?”
He brought his hands together in front of his waist. “Three hundred and eighty-seven times. Every single one of them failed. Except for you.”
Three hundred and eighty-seven forcefully mutated children died before drawing their first breath.
“Did their mothers volunteer for the experiments?” She had to ask.
“Most.” Judging by the wicked twinkle in his eyes, mercy had not been given to those who weren’t volunteers.
“And my mother? Did she volunteer to give birth to a monster?” There it was, the question that had been burning inside her since she found out she was Draven’s daughter.
His face softened, his lips parting slightly before answering. “It was different with Zaia. The other volunteers were just strangers to me. And, let’s just say that the immunization process was purely scientific.”
Myreen grimaced at that bit of information, not wanting to envision any part of what that sentence implied.
“But Zaia and I had a true connection. She was a princess of her people, and she’d come to land right before she met me, trying to find a way to bring them up.”
“She was a princess?” Myreen blurted, astounded. “Wait, that means I’m...”
“Mer royalty?” Draven finished for her. “Yes. Higher even than your friend Kendall, I’d wager. Your mother’s kingdom was the oldest.”
“What happened to them? Did Mom succeed?” Maybe I do have family out there somewhere after all!
Draven shook his head sadly. “I don’t believe she did. After she ran away with you still in her belly, I had scouts scouring every coast in search of her. I don’t believe she ever went back to her people after she left me.”
Myreen’s insides burned with promise and curiosity. A whole civilization of mer were still underwater—mer that were directly connected to her. She needed to know what became of them. All the more reason to get out of this prison. But how?
She decided to change her line of questioning. “You said you and my mom had a connection. If that’s true, why did she leave?”
He lowered his head, as if his sadness made it heavy. “She got scared. She forgot that wars have casualties. She walked in on an interrogation that went awry, and she started to fear she made the wrong choice. She snuck out that night and I never saw her or our unborn baby girl again.”
There was so much information to process. Every time Myreen thought she knew her mother, another skeleton jumped out of the closet. She really didn’t know her mother at all. Could Draven be telling the truth? Even Kendall had said her mother fell for Draven. But would her mother have willingly allowed him to experiment on her baby? Myreen couldn’t imagine any woman doing that.
“Is Ty like me? I mean, is he a chimera too?”
“No. Ty is completely human.”
“Why?” She felt like it was a stupid question, but she couldn’t see why the boy would be so important to Draven as just a human.
“He’s my Heir.”
“But what does that mean?”
Draven’s face brightened. “My family is the oldest and noblest vampire line in existence. Every fifty years, the patriarch produces a male heir, and when that heir comes of age, he’s turned into a vampire. This compounding of vampire blood produces a stronger vampire each time. I’m more powerful than my father, and he was more powerful than his. Ty will be more powerful than me.”
“Wait, so Ty’s going to become a vampire?” She was suddenly horrified, struck by an urgency to protect the little brother she hardly knew.
“Yes, when he turns eighteen.” Draven was practically glowing with pride.
“Does he know?” Myreen’s voice raised a whole octave, but Draven didn’t seem to care.
“He’s known all his life that he’s being primed to take my place as leader of the vampires.”
No, no, no! Not sweet, innocent Ty!
“Why don’t we get off this conversation. I can see it’s making you upset.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I have something else in mind for today. You don’t have any ursa training. Let me show you what you’re capable of.”
He went around her and opened the door, gesturing for her to follow him out. She didn’t want to go with him. As curious as she was to learn about her ursa side, she was disgusted by Draven for what he was doing to Ty. Ty was nothing like his father. The boy may look like a miniature version of his dad, but he was pure and kind. Myreen hated that Ty was destined to become a monster. She would keep that from happening, even if it was the last thing she did.
“Come, Myreen,” Draven insisted.
Getting rid of Draven was the only way to ensure that Ty’s innocence remained intact, that her friends and all shifters stayed safe, and that she could one day reconnect with her mother’s people. If she could use Draven to perfect the monster he’d created her to be, the easier it would be to fulfill her destiny.
***
“What have they taught you at your shifter school about ursas?”
Draven took her down to the main level and into a training room in a section she hadn’t previously ventured. He instructed her to change into the smart suit she’d arrived in, and now they stood in a large, empty square room with a mirror lining one wall.
Myreen skimmed through her mental repertoire on bear-shifters before answering. “Ursas, like all weres, have their transformation triggered by full moons. They’re bitten, not born. They’re the strongest of all the weres, impossible to contain when they’re having a fit, and struggle the most with self-control.” She’d experienced that last bit first-hand.
“Good,” Draven said, pacing in front of her with his hands clasped behind his back. “Basic, but good. What do you know of their powers?”
Myreen pondered. “I thought their strength was their power?” she said, her answer coming out more like a question.
“In a manner of speaking, that’s true. Ursas have the most physical strength of pretty much all shifters, not just weres. But they’re hyper-strong in other areas as well. Some have been known to have very powerful telekinetic abilities, even able to create forcefields at will.”
Draven snapped his fingers and a projection began to play on the widest wall in front of them, though Myreen had no idea where the projection was coming from. The video showed a man in shredded clothes being circled by black-clad opponents—vampires, she assumed. The man let out a bestial roar, then every muscle in his body bulged and expanded, making him twice as large as he’d previously been. A coat of thick, brown fur covered his skin as his clothing ripped and fell away, his face mutating from that of a handsome man’s to a snarling, nightmarish monster. She wasn’t even sure she could call him a bear. Red shame flushed her face at the thought of what she must look like when she lost control.
As she watched, a visible disturbance rippled through the air, radiating outward from him. The ripple sent his opponents flying backward, and he leapt
off-screen and out of sight. The projection faded like it was never there, the wall blank once more.
“Wow, I didn’t know ursas could do that,” she said, still staring at the naked wall.
“Few do,” Draven said. “Ursas aren’t as aware of themselves when in shifted form, so it’s rare they’re ever lucid enough to explore their powers. After all, such a thing takes patience, and ursas aren’t known for that virtue. But there are some that find a way to manage their emotions and hone their special talents. I would like to help you do this.”
“How?” she asked, incredulous. “I think we both know that if I shift, this room won’t be safe for you.”
A smirk curled Draven’s pale, pink lips. He looked down and hooked his thumbs in his pockets as he strolled forward. “That’s why I won’t be in the room. I’ll be in a safe location, instructing you via intercom.” And then he was gone, the click of the door’s lock the only evidence that he didn’t just vanish into thin air.
She took a step toward the door, but a puff of yellow gas assaulted her face, a painful sting forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut. She stumbled, hearing the hiss of the gas filling the room. And before she had time to get angry or worry about what the gas might do to her, an insatiable, agonizing prickle seethed under her flesh—everywhere! She struggled to contain it, but it was no use. In several palpitating heartbeats, the beast unleashed, her thoughts, senses, and vision a blur of red and fury.
She slammed against the walls, clawing at the door. The urge to destroy was the only thing she understood.
“It’s no use, Myreen.” Draven’s voice echoed around her. “I’ve had this room reinforced with a silver-steel alloy specifically for your training. You can’t escape.”
A guttural roar quaked out of her throat and rattled the mirror wall.
“The only way for you to get out is to concentrate.” His voice was muddled and distant, reverberating in her eardrums as if spoken through water. “Hone your breathing, clear your mind, and gain control. Do not be slave to the beast. Be its master.”
Every one of her muscles ached with frustration, and the desire to throw a huge fit nearly overwhelmed her, like an itch that had to be scratched despite knowing that no amount of scratching could make it go away. She wanted to hurt someone. Anyone. Draven, especially.
No. She didn’t want that. That was the bear talking. She had to resist.
Clenching her oversized teeth, she closed her eyes and stood as still as she could. She tried to ignore the pain of irritation that seized throughout her entire body, tried to drown out the wacky emotions that whispered all manner of angry demands.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breath in. Breathe out.
She repeated the mantra in her mind over and over, feeling each breath as it entered and exited her lungs. The itch slowly became less intense, the fog that clouded her mind thinning ever so slightly.
“Very good, Myreen,” Draven’s voice said, and she heard it much more clearly than before. “Now, shatter the glass.”
The bear wanted to ram an angry fist at the reflection it detested and savor the satisfying sound of glass crashing, but she had enough clarity to understand his meaning. She was to break the mirror without touching it.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed her will outward from her core. The room shook, and the sound of exploding glass surprised her eyes open in time to see fragments raining to the floor.
Another puff of gas—green this time—sprayed all around, and in seconds she shrank, returning to her normal height, returning to human form.
Wobbling in place and disoriented, she saw Draven enter the room, clapping his hands. “Very well done, and on your first try. You’re nothing short of incredible!”
“Wh– what was that stuff you sprayed at me?” she asked, rubbing her aching head. The shifts had both been too quick, and now she felt sore, almost hungover.
“The first one was a toxin to force to you to shift,” Draven explained. “And the second, obviously, forced you to shift back to human form. I apologize for using them on you, but they were necessary for this first exercise, don’t you agree?”
No. She never wanted to feel anything like that again. It was horrible. She felt violated and nauseous and ashamed—too many things to list. Just about the only good thing she felt was surprise at being able to access such a difficult ursa skill on the first attempt.
“Why was it so easy for me?” she asked, mostly to herself.
“The necklace.” Draven touched the center stone on her neck. “Remember I told you it gives you more control? Without the necklace, you would’ve had little chance of making progress. But even with it, withstanding the ursa toxin takes a great deal of willpower and inner strength, and that’s something that can’t be manufactured. I’m very proud of you.” He rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
She didn’t feel the urge to jerk away this time. His methods had been forceful, to say the least, but none of that was meant to hurt her. It really seemed as though everything that Draven did was for her benefit, and his praise felt oddly... good.
She still didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him—in human form, anyway—but she was starting to sense that maybe he wasn’t all bad.
As much confusion as she felt regarding her mother, she knew that her mother had been a good person with a kind heart. If she had found something to love in Draven, maybe he wasn’t the monster she thought he was.
Chapter 10: Kol
Kol crouched between some pines. His new, military-issued smart uniform cut the majority of the northern Washington biting wind, but his cheeks and fingertips still burned from the frigid air.
Fortunately, the amount of fire churning inside would’ve been enough to keep his limbs warm even if he didn’t have the protection of the high-tech clothing. Dragons never worried about frostbite.
Entering the shifter military facility that morning was uneventful. Kol had visited his father enough times over the years that he was familiar with the layout of the building. He and Tatiana had been scolded more than once for playing hide-and-seek in the barracks. And since Kol was destined to enlist, he went through the motions of his orientation, filling out the forms and being issued his equipment—he suspected his uniform was commissioned months before, since it fit perfectly without a single measurement—practically on autopilot, as if he’d done it a hundred times.
Only once did Kol find himself paying particular attention, as if anticipating the curious questions from a bright, piercingly blue-eyed Myreen, who would want to know every single detail. For instance, she might've been interested to know that the military headquarters mimicked the shape of the Dome, but it lay above ground. From the inside, the world could be seen with perfect clarity through the pristine, smudge and crack-free glass, but from the outside it was camouflaged to blend into the Shawnee hills in southern Illinois. But the moment passed as quickly as it came, and Kol turned back into the robot she always accused him of being.
He was tired of waiting. Char and her insufferable second-in-command, Corporal Modder, were reconning the vampire headquarters at Cle Elum. Kol insisted on joining, but was overruled by the corporal. Apparently even a dragon prince could not be trusted with such a task on his first day.
So he stood back, perhaps sulking a bit, while the rest of the team huddled casually several yards away.
Fortunately, Kol didn’t have to wait long before two small dots appeared in the sky. One a bright blue—their leader and commander of this mission, Charlotte—and the other a muddled brown that was close to the color of mire and mud. Much like Cpl. Modder’s personality, Kol thought bitterly. Corporal Mudd.
Kol rolled his eyes and puffed out a visible breath as they drew nearer in broad daylight for anyone to see. Surely, his talent for invisibility would’ve made the better option for scouting out a tower full of vampires in the middle of the day.
When Char and Mudd landed and shifted, the group formed a semi-circle around them.
>
“It would be suicide to barge through the front doors, day or night," Char said, a little disheartened. “The fortress is well-protected and fortified, and the number of vampires would have no problem squashing us like pesky flies.”
“Yes, we will surely need to find another way,” Mudd added in his haughty tone. “I thought that if we—”
“What about your idea, Char?” Kol interrupted. “Let's just tear the citadel apart right now and let those monsters burn.”
Mudd shot a nasty look at Kol. His expression remained stoic, but Kol didn't keep eye contact for long. After all, Mudd was his superior, even if Char was in charge. Plus, he would hear it from his father if it got back to him that he was being insubordinate.
“The sun will set soon, Private Dracul,” Char said softly, but loud enough that all could hear. “And it's risky. We could lose half, if not all, of our numbers if we aren't careful."
The others glanced back and forth at one another, careful to avoid eye contact with the corporal, who huffed when he realized he’d lost the argument. The team was silently on board.
“We'll do it," said Specialist Torisei, a wiry kitsune who looked physically inept to be part of such a mission. “We have more than brute force at our disposal.”
“Yes, we can do it,” said Private Gibson, an ursa who looked very much like he would be using said brute force.
Char smiled. “Alright then, but we can’t do it tonight. I suggest we all get some rest, then reconvene tomorrow at dawn. You’re dismissed.”
The group dispersed. Kol reluctantly took the cue to leave—he wanted to storm the castle now and rescue Myreen, but he promised Eduard he’d follow orders. Plus, it would be dark soon and the vamps would have the upper hand if they tried to attack after sunset. He headed in the opposite direction while Char huddled with Mudd, probably discussing their plans for attack.
He was mid-shift when Mudd shouted, “Where are you going?”
Kol didn’t shift back, but paused. Invisible scales covered his arms and torso—there was no point hiding his little trick anymore. Kol looked into the trees, feeling like he might be in trouble, but unsure why. “Char, er... Sergeant Stern said we were excused?”