Ash Bringer (A Storm of Fire: Paranormal Dragonshifter Romance Book 1)

by Courtney Leigh

  Aggravated, I continued to pace, looking around for weaknesses in the chamber’s structure, but the damn thing was made of solid concrete. Up in the corner, however, I caught sight of a small, black orb secured up in the shadows. I stopped, glaring at the mostly-hidden camera spying on my every move. I raised my middle finger at the thing, hoping someone was watching and might pay me a visit to explain what the fuck was happening.

  As if in response, I heard the door click and spun to face it, tensing and ready for whatever came through to greet me. As expected, Rikard and two other men, one of them a rugged looking Pike with his scaly, misshapen head shaved close to the scalp, stepped into the chamber.

  Rikard was wearing a worn, brown leather jacket now with a patch on the front in the shape of a falcon head. I wrinkled my nose, glaring with such aggression as if I could kill the guy with my mind alone. Like a cornered, wild animal, I sidestepped and balled my hands into fists, watching Rikard’s companions like a hawk.

  “Good morning, Ms. Ghlass,” Rikard said in a tone that would have been polite except for the man who said it.

  “Where am I?” I demanded. “Where’s Draven?”

  “You’re far away from the sector,” Rikard answered, walking further into the space. His men moved in behind him, blocking the open door with their bulk. “That’s all you need to know. As for Draven, he’s close.”

  “What do you want?” I growled.

  “I want answers, just like you. You want to know what exactly happened between Taurus and Valerio. I want to know what Valerio was hiding. But Valerio and Taurus are dead. My only option now is Draven. He’s an Ash Bringer. He can find what I need.” He smiled, deepening the lines around his mouth. “He just needs the right persuasion.”

  “Where is he?” I hissed.

  Rikard raised his brows before glancing up at the small camera fastened in the corner. He raised his finger, pointing. “He’s watching. Usually he wouldn’t need to, of course.” He paced slowly across the floor to the other side of the chamber. “Draak can sense almost everything their Ashling is experiencing, but we’ve rendered both of you useless to each other, even with the mark.”

  I glanced down again at the black veins and wondered. Was it some kind of poison? Nanites? Some scientific bullshit I couldn’t understand? Gods, it could be anything.

  Rikard stopped, turning to face me, his hands rested behind his back. “We have ways of keeping a Red like Draven Tempest under control while we chisel him down to something more cooperative. We did it to his brother and we can do it to him. You’re role here is simple, Ms. Ghlass. You, unfortunately, got caught in the wrong little net.” His eyes bore into mine with a toxic, half-crazed grip and he stepped forward, making my gut twist with discomfort and anger. “You can thank Taurus for that.”

  “Stop your lying!”

  “Lies? No,” he shook his head. “The real lie was the one Taurus told you. The lie he started when he dug you out of the ashes of that little town. What was it called? Crescent Cove?”

  I blinked with surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  “Believe me, he tried to forget you. He even brought you to the hospital himself, but he just couldn’t stop thinking about you. That little girl, scared and alone in the world. He did, after all, start the fire that nearly killed you. The very one that left you malformed and killed your family.”

  “Stop it,” I glared.

  “Oh yes. ‘It was a Draak,’ we said, and people came running to our cause,” he laughed. “I’m sure he kept that from you, just like he kept us from you. Falcons. We are the force that will overthrow the Draak sectors and change the world.”

  “You won’t change a thing. The Draak are stronger than your army of Pikes and outcasts.”

  “Really? Why don’t you ask me how many Draak survived the gala.”

  My heart sank at the idea of Lukan being caught up in that attack. Remembering the way that black smoke affected Draven made me wonder if any of the Draak made it out of there.

  “You’re disgusting,” I spit.

  “No, Ms. Ghlass. You are.” His eyes glided toward my branded wrist. “And you’re a victim of lies. Unlucky, wouldn’t you say? Now you’re the instrument that will make Draven perform.”

  “It won’t work,” I blurted, making a desperate attempt to convince Rikard. “He doesn’t give a damn about me.”

  “Oh,” Rikard chuckled. “He does. No Draak, sadistic or not, burnes an entire camp down because he doesn’t care. You know what? Perhaps a camera isn’t the way to go. It’s a bit impersonal now that I think of it.”

  He waved over his shoulder at the Pike standing behind him. He moved in, marching straight for me. Stumbling back, I felt his hand grip my arm and pull me forward. I struggled against his inhuman strength, fighting the rigid hold he had wrapped around my bicep until I felt bruises forming. He led me out into a hall lined with concrete walls. There was a chill in the air that smelled like soil and rain from the outside. As we rounded a corner, muted light bled in from outdoors, casting a diffused glow down the path that drowned the ugly, yellow lighting of the metal fixtures on the ceiling.

  Rikard led the way through what felt like a prison. Passing a few grated windows, I caught brief glimpses of the courtyard outside. I could see cars. Warehouse-type buildings. Mud, as if it had just stormed, and a gravel road, but other than that, we seemed to be somewhere rural and disconnected from the sector, just like Rikard said.

  “Now I know you’re thinking about running, Ms. Ghlass,” Rikard said, his voice bouncing off the walls and hitting my ears with infuriating force. “You’re thinking there must be a way for you to get out of this. Well, unfortunately for you, this is not some small camp of drunken men and amateurs.”

  We turned another corner, giving me more of an idea of how large the building was. The property was set up like some kind of military compound. Getting out wasn’t going to be easy, but I had been planning to break Taurus out of Raven Heights not too long ago. Nothing was impossible. I just had to find an opening. A weakness.

  “So you’re just going to torture me to get a rise out of Draven, huh?” I said as we traveled through the concrete halls. “Seems cowardly. Who’d you use to subdue Valerio?”

  “Oh, we didn’t need to use anyone,” Rikard shrugged. “Valerio had other things on his mind. Other things to protect.”

  “And you think I’m Draven’s weakness? Hmf. Draven’s not the Draak you think he is. This won’t work.”

  “We’ll see,” Rikard said, gesturing toward a metal door to the left of the walkway. He stepped aside, allowing the Pike to pivot and force me through the door just as the other man swung it open.

  I was thrown to the floor with a violent shove. I rose to attack my captors, but my eyes caught an image that stopped every muscle in my body with alarm.

  In the middle of the cell, I saw Draven knelt on a metal platform. His wrists were cuffed in irons, the chains for which led to the walls on either side of him, stretching his arms out in a way that made him vulnerable. On his bare chest was an array of deep slashes, cuts, and bruises that discolored his usually perfect skin to the point of making him seem almost human.

  Draven’s injuries were severe. Too severe to ignore. I’d never known a Draak to get hurt so badly without healing, but there he was, abused and physically wounded enough to make his body adopt an uncharacteristic slouch. As he raised his head, I caught a glimpse of his dull eyes from behind a few unkempt strands of copper locks that hung in front of his face. His skin was ashy. Dark circles sunk beneath his eyes and beads of sweat framed his face in a sickly glisten. This wasn’t the Draven I expected to see. I spun around to scowl at Rikard, who was wearing a cocky grin on his aged face.

  “What did you do?” I demanded.

  “Draak have become so comfortable,” Rikard said. “So comfortable with the idea that humans can’t fight back. Fortunately for us, we have new methods now. Just look at him.”

  Glancing over my shou
lder, I was still in awe of how frail Draven looked. On his abdomen, I noticed four punctures from which the red of his blood was mingling with a darker stream of something that looked tar-like. From those holes, subtle, blackened veins crept from the source and faded outward. Just like at the gala, something appeared to be poisoning him.

  “The moment we threatened your life,” Rikard explained, stepping further into the chamber. “He was all too willing to take a few bullets for you. Do you question whether or not you’re his weakness now?”

  “What is this?” I growled. “What have you done?”

  Rikard’s thin lips stretched into the most unpleasant expression. “Magic,” he answered.

  34

  Everly

  . . .

  “Draven,” I whispered.

  His eyes quivered, half conscious. When he realized who I was, his awareness spiked.

  “Everly,” he uttered. “Did they—”

  “I’m ok,” I said, reaching for one of his cuffs. They were steel, and strong.

  “Where’s Rikard?”

  “He left me here. He’ll be back, though. He’s going to try to use me to find something. Something only Valerio knew about?”

  “Yeah, he gave me the same speech. Everly, if he touches you, I’ll tear him apart.”

  I looked at his golden eyes and blinked at the sincerity that sat behind them, taken aback and moved at the same time. But things didn’t seem that simple. I looked down at Draven’s abdomen where the bleeding holes weren’t healing. If he tried to defend me, he might die.

  “You can’t let Rikard manipulate you. I can take whatever he throws at me.” I continued toying with the cuffs, but I knew I was useless. It was all useless. “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  “For what?”

  “That you’re going through this again. It must have been hard when your wife died. I know the mark—”

  “I never marked her,” Draven admitted, taking me by surprise. “I never got the chance. On Kumir, the mark came after marriage.”

  “But…”

  Draven stared at me, his gaze a soothing pressure on my thoughts. “Everly,” he whispered. “No woman has ever bore my mark before you.”

  “Then why’d you do it? A thousand years and you’re that stupid?”

  “I did it out of anger. My brother was dead, and I saw you and I didn’t think about it. I didn’t think I would ever...I didn’t think things would go this way.”

  I paused for a moment, watching Draven’s expression harden with regret and aggravation. Doubt and confusion swirled in my head, but then it turned to dust and instead, I moved abruptly closer to him, taking his face in both hands and pulling it toward me. Before I could try to understand myself, I was kissing him.

  My mind was cursing my irrational behavior, but as I slowly pulled away, my heart was racing. Draven opened his eyes to look at me, his irises brightening with life. Deep down, I had to admit the distance I’d go and the things I’d endure to keep this Draak alive. It was stupid. It was foolish and idiotic to want to protect a Draak, let alone one that had already lived hundreds more lifetimes than me. Even so, foolish was damn near to being my middle name. I looked down at his bare body where the strange bullets were embedded in his now somewhat colorless torso.

  “What are these?” I asked.

  “Something I haven’t seen in centuries,” Draven grunted. “Something that shouldn’t even be here.”

  “I can get them out if it will help,” I said, clenching my jaw and searching Draven’s expression for authorization. Draven half-smirked, looking at me with that familiar fascination. “Can you handle it?”

  “Can you?” he asked.

  I poised my fingers over one of the half-dozen holes in Draven’s abdomen and glared at him before digging them into the wound. He jolted, but the most that came out of his expression was a pulse in his squared jaw muscles. I started burrowing into his bloodied flesh in search of the first bullet. Draven held out for some time, his muscles tense and hardened against the pain, but after a few moments he let out a breath on a groan and relaxed, allowing me to reach deeper.

  “You know,” I said. “Part of me is enjoying this.”

  “I know,” Draven said, biting his teeth.

  When the tip of my finger found a sharp, rigid shard embedded deep in Draven’s muscle tissue, I maneuvered to pull it out. Draven winced, but for the most part, kept his agony at bay while I pulled the fragment out of him. Between my bloodied fingers, I found myself holding what looked like an 8mm bullet made of some non-metal material. I looked at it with awe, a mix of deep crimson and hot, black liquid dripping down my forearm.

  Draven looked at the fragment as well with a deep sense of disdain before I stuck the thing in the pocket of his pants and moved to fish out another. In case Rikard came back, I was hoping I could hide the fact that some of the bullets were no longer inside Draven. Concealing them was the least I could do.

  I’d managed to pull out four bullets, but the last two were too deep for just my fingers to reach. I was wiping my hand on my leggings when the metal door moaned open and Rikard returned to the chamber with two of his goons, one of them the same Pike from before, a silver chain hanging from between his fingers.

  Before Rikard said anything, the Pike marched toward me and wrapped his grip tightly in my knotted hair, pulling me across the floor to the entrance of the chamber. I kicked, rushing to my feet as soon as he stopped, and swung a fist upward against his hard jaw. It connected, and while I was certain it hurt me more than him, the slight hesitation in his movement begged me to swing again. I hit him across the head with my elbow when the other man stepped in, pointing a rifle. I knocked the barrel away, thrusting my knuckles into the man’s throat. He choked, falling back against the wall while I ripped the rifle from his grip.

  Before I could aim the rifle at anyone, the Pike swung a rock-hard blow to the back of my head, knocking me to my knees and stealing the weapon from my hands. Again, his fingers were in my hair, that time lifting me into a lock, his arm tight around my neck.

  I stared across the room at Draven’s tense form in the haze of my dizziness, watching his expression tighten with rage as I was tossed around in front of him. Rikard, calm and collected around the commotion, simply laughed. Rather than throw his attention on me and my poor attempt to fight, he crouched down in front of Draven. I could feel Draven’s rage sending sharp tingles across my skin.

  I can take it, I said. He’ll tell us something if he thinks he has us under control.

  I hoped Draven could hear me. I threw my thoughts at him like a baseball, hoping he’d pick up on them. The damn Red. Now was the perfect time for him to abuse those gifts of his.

  Listen to me! I thought harder, if that was a thing. He’ll give us something. I know it.

  I can’t let them hurt you, I heard Draven’s voice speak in my head.

  Oh shit, it worked.

  Shut up. I’m not letting him use you against me.

  Don’t! I pleaded with him, using both my thoughts and my eyes. Not yet. Please.

  35

  Draven

  . . .

  Hold it together, I told myself.

  It had been ages since I’d felt so willing to risk everything for a woman. For anyone. Seeing Everly get hit in the head and dragged by her hair set every spark of fire sizzling inside me.

  I can take it, Everly kept thinking, making sure her thoughts were directed toward me.

  I chanted focusing words in my head, willing myself to keep it under control. Doing anything not to implode. Not when answers were so damn close. She can take it, I convinced myself. That’s why I adored her. Because she was strong and determined. That didn’t make watching her abuse any easier, however.

  Rikard held up a hand to still the goon holding Everly by the neck. “The way you get out of this is simple,” he said. “Valerio knew the location of something very important. Something I need to find. The Draak will lose whether you help me or n
ot, but if you help me, she,” he pointed over his shoulder, “doesn’t get hurt.”

  “Valerio didn’t cooperate,” I said. “What makes you think I will?”

  “Valerio was killed before I had proper time with him. Thank Taurus for that. And he wasn’t protecting an Ashling. Pretty convenient that you managed to get one right when I needed the leverage.”

  Rikard crouched in front of me, his smug expression painted across his face. Resting his elbows on his knees, he raised a downturned fist in front of me and opened it, letting a long, silver chain drop from his fingers. Swinging before me was a familiar, greenish-silver pendant the size of a quarter. Something I recognized. I wanted to break out of the chains and rip the man to a million pieces in that very moment, but I needed patience. Valerio’s patience.

  “I’m sure you recognize this,” Rikard said, his eyes flicking to the similar silver ring on my thumb. “It was your brother’s. Draakomir metal. Very rare. Two pieces made from one shattered sword from your dead world, right?” He paused and fingered the small pendant thoughtfully. “Your connection to him is strong and it’s stronger if you have something of his, yes?”

  When I didn’t respond, Rikard continued. “I know Valerio was the Archon. I also know that Draak are significantly more vulnerable without one. I’ve done my research. I know about your primitive hive mentality in wartime. In the end, you’re still just beasts,” he spat. “So? With the head cut off, why not hand over the reins? We have more power right now than you know.”

  I eyed the silver pendant, clenching my jaw with hatred. All I needed was that pendant and I’d know what I wanted to know. I didn’t need this man anymore. I just needed a window.

  “Still won’t talk, huh?” Rikard said, handing Valerio’s necklace to the man behind him, who was still nursing a bruised throat. “Ok,” he nodded. “Everly was raised by Taurus. She won the Red Race. I know she can take a punch, but there’s something I know neither of you will enjoy. Something that will get you talking.”