Dragon: The Clan Legacy Series

by J. S. Striker

  A pair of muscled legs caught her vision, approaching her way. Francesca looked up and saw Aaron, golden hair practically gleaming under the dim lights and pearly white teeth flashing. He took the seat beside her and leaned his head close, whispering huskily in her ear.

  “Hey, babe.”

  Other than being loyal and compassionate, Aaron was also a complete flirt. Not that she minded.

  Francesca rolled her eyes to show her thought regarding the nickname. Then she gave him a warm smile.

  “Don’t call me that. But hey back. Why are you late?”

  “Had to drop off a girl I was on a date with before meeting up here. I couldn’t exactly leave her at the restaurant.”

  She tilted her head. “Amanda?”

  “No. Tara.”

  Ah. Someone she hadn’t met yet. Francesca filed this in for later, eternally curious about the kind of girls that fell for his trap. But yes, back to the matter at hand.

  Francesca indicated for him to sit down before she got to the point.

  “I would like to arrange a meeting with your father.”

  The hand that Aaron had put up to wave at a nearby waitress froze, his gaze zoning back in on her. “Why?”

  Casually, she stirred her drink. “I want to pay for what he’s selling.”

  Silence.

  The waitress came and took down Aaron’s order. Once they were alone, Aaron finally opened his mouth. “If this is about that itch again—”

  “Can you help me or not?”

  He visibly squirmed. “You know I’m not in good terms with the old man. And what he’s selling is dangerous.”

  Francesca sighed impatiently. “What he’s selling is the only thing that’s making the pain go away.”

  Almost unconsciously, her hand went to the scar that ran the whole left side of her face, where the pain had started throbbing. In a few hours, it would be excruciating enough to make her immobile.

  It also prevented her from shifting properly—a cruel fate that she knew she didn’t deserve.

  The only way to stop the pain was either to take the magical drugs Aaron’s father sold—or find the witch who was the culprit of this. The former was easier.

  “Look,” Aaron was saying, his palm settling on her shoulder, “I understand what you’re going through and I’d love to help you out.” His fingers traced upwards towards her cheek, touching the scar lightly and making it tickle. His face came closer, breath warm. “You don’t need the magical drug. Just tell me what you want.”

  Oh, Francesca knew what he wanted. Aaron wasn’t only loyal and compassionate: he also wanted her to be another notch in his bedpost, because apparently she was the only girl who didn’t dig him. As much as it flattered her, she was so not in the mood for this right now.

  A throbbing had started on her temple, and it was adding cause to her impatience. With a glare, Francesca opened her mouth, ready to give a sarcastic retort.

  Then the women’s voices grew louder on her sensitive ears, and she heard two words that made her freeze.

  Lucinda.

  Mya.

  It took all of her effort not to whip her head in their direction right off, and it was all she could do to act as nonchalant as possible as her gaze trailed the club almost thoroughly before it settled on the necessary spot.

  Now they didn’t act like the oldest of friends; in fact, one of the women had stood up, her earlier neat ponytail now disheveled and her back ramrod straight.

  And then things happened at once.

  A glint appeared on the woman’s side, and almost a second later Francesca could smell blood—a clear, rich scent that would have drawn vampires right off had there been any inside. But this was a human club. Then Aaron’s alarmed voice registered before something wet spilled on her front.

  Francesca looked down, surprised to see herself standing up and her white shirt damp.

  When she looked back at the two women, she only had time to see one of them already headed for the door. The other one was gone.

  “Aaron, find my father and tell him Lucinda Bennett might be in trouble. And mention the name Mya, please.”

  “Lucinda who?” Aaron asked, utterly confused.

  “Just tell him,” was all she said.

  Then Francesca was running for the door, desperate for a link towards the one witch who had all the answers.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The summon to South Africa didn’t exactly come at a good time.

  Finn Jackles had been lacking sleep for a couple of days now due to a very personal task given to him by Henrik Mikhailov, the new leader of the dragon clan—and by personal, it meant without the usual amenities provided by Dylan Masters, who was the supreme leader of them all. Dylan’s tasks usually involved scouting for the missing witch Mya, or keeping peace between the shifter factions and making sure they caused no trouble with the other supernatural creatures. It was all about politics for that man, all about keeping relationships intact.

  Henrik’s tasks usually involved hunting villains who might have a link to the other missing witch, Red, and killing them. Of course, there were a lot of politics involved in that, too, but it was the most basic kind—aka, you can kill, but you can’t get caught.

  It was exactly the kind of politics Finn was used to. He hated the office kind.

  When the summon came, he’d been on the verge of sleep, his head ready to hit the comfortable pillow in his comfortable bedroom. He’d grumbled a lot, shouted out some curse words while he punched his pillow for good measure before getting three cups of brewed coffee to perk up his energy. Then, like a good little soldier, he got dressed and headed off towards the entry point of his house’s library, where the new portal to his new leader was located.

  Finn closed his eyes and let the warmth envelope him.

  A few minutes later, Ireland and his castle home were miles away, and he was standing in the middle of an African forest with the heat on his back and the sun in his eyes.

  Great.

  The portal in Africa was located in the middle of the forest clearing, a few miles away from Henrik’s home in case any unwanted infiltration happened. It was the kind of place where you’d expect a tiger to jump you any minute—which was why it was a very good thing Finn was the kind of shifter who could beat a lion in a fight if it came to that.

  Or a lion shifter, if need be.

  The morning had obviously just started for South Africa, and Finn took the time to ease out of his wool sweater before trudging the dry soil in his undershirt. The clearing led to a maze of some kind, with vines and trees practically entwined together in an attempt to get anyone not familiar with the landscape lost. After a few visits to this place, it was easy enough for Finn to get the hang of the twists and turns before he saw the long, narrow wooden bridge used to cross a river. Standing in the middle of the bridge, the view below was foggy and all sorts of amazing, and he used a few seconds of his time to admire it before trudging on.

  More trees, more vines, and then the forest gave way to another clearing where a tall wooden square of wall guarded what was inside.

  It was also heavily guarded by ancient magical shields meant to make it invisible to any unwelcome eye.

  A glance at the outside walls made one initially think there was nothing special inside—exactly the effect Henrik wanted to create for his visitors. The wood wasn’t even polished or anything like that. Finn stepped inside via the hidden gate on the right side and stood for a few seconds as he looked.

  What was inside was definitely nothing ordinary.

  The dragon clan leader’s house was made of wood, and glass, and metal, and bricks, all combined in a modern style that left first-time viewers breathless. It was a mansion, per se, with a lush garden and an infinity pool right at the front yard. The swimming pool’s edge was designed to blend perfectly with nature, located beside a cliff that steeped downwards towards fog and greenish darkness.

  Henrik was already there, standing on the front patio
and in deep thought when Finn approached him. He snapped out of it and looked Finn in the eye, and they gave each other a brotherly pat on the back before Finn blurted out his foremost thought in mind.

  “Got any quality coffee there?”

  A small smile played on the Brazilian shifter's lips before he nodded his head. “Oh, just the best kind there is. Imported from Colombia and roasted to perfection.”

  Well, shit.

  Finn excitedly fixed himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen as Henrik stayed where he was. The first sip was like heaven—definitely better than the ones he'd had in Ireland. He finished the cup then got a second one before he stepped back outside to mingle.

  Henrik wasn't alone anymore. Beside him stood Charlie Takeshi, a dragon shifter residing in Japan. He looked fresh and well put together—nothing unusual, really, as nothing really fazed the guy. Charlie was perhaps the only one of the four of them who didn't curse, or shout, or yell that much, though Henrik hadn't really done so as well since he came back from his hiatus two years ago.

  Something had happened to Henrik—something big, drawn out by his need for revenge for the murder of their old dragon leader, Malik. Malik had been a stand-up guy, one of the most powerful shifters in the land, and it pained Finn every time his old friend crossed his mind.

  Other than Charlie, two people had also arrived while Finn had been making coffee. The first was Robbie Sebastian, resident dragon shifter from New York and temporary leader while Henrik had been away. Beside him was his mate, Sophia Gray—a pretty talented witch, looking at him with a twinkle in her honey eyes. Finn broke into a grin and strode straight towards her, plucking her from the ground and giving her a tight, enthusiastic hug.

  “Christ! You're as beautiful as ever,” Finn exclaimed.

  Sophia grinned. “Right back at you.”

  “You totally need to leave Rob here and run away with me.”

  “I'm right here,” Robbie said mildly, eyeing them in amusement.

  “Totally didn't hear you, man,” Finn replied in mock salute.

  The couple looked absolutely happy, which made Finn happy for them. He'd been witness to what they'd been through together, and he could safely say that part of their lives was over.

  Henrik cleared his throat. “We’ll start our meeting in the kitchen in ten minutes.”

  “Masters isn't coming?” Robbie asked, referring to the wolf shifter who currently headed all shifter clans.

  Henrik shook his head. “He's preoccupied with political duties right now. We'll commence without him.”

  The serious tone in Henrik's voice said it all. With a sigh, Finn decided to get a third—or technically, sixth—cup of coffee to get through the day.

  *****

  The first item on the agenda at hand was reporting to Henrik what they discovered so far about Red, the missing witch and mate of their former leader, Malik. She was also the sister of the witch who'd murdered Malik, a shocking discovery that still left the shifter world jarred.

  Finn had nothing to report on the matter because his investigation had turned up no current witnesses, and the other two shifters didn't have anything new, either. The hardened expression on Henrik's face turned even graver before he finally nodded his head.

  “If that’s the case, there’s no harm in putting the investigation to rest… for now,” Henrik said, leaning against the kitchen counter. It was a casual place for a meeting, but it was the only place other than the bedroom and bathroom where there were no glass walls. “I have two other tasks on hand that I need assistance with as soon as possible.”

  The dragon clan leader turned to Charlie. “A few days ago, a teenage shifter from a very prominent family ran away and hasn’t been seen since. Said family is up Dylan’s throat at the moment, and he’s designated us to find this girl and keep track of her movements. I’m giving that task to you.”

  Charlie raised a brow without saying anything, almost as if to say, that easy?

  Henrik smirked in response. “Take note that this teenager is notorious for her rebellion. A few years ago, her parents caused a ruckus and blamed the leaders because she snuck out to a concert and got attacked by a rogue shifter—one triggered rogue by the witch Mya and that bastard vampire, Killian. She’s not going to make it easy for you, I’m sure.”

  Finn remembered that certain incident. It was during the time Robbie was still the temporary leader—and judging from Robbie’s face right now, it was obvious he remembered as well.

  Finding the situation particularly amusing, Finn snorted. “In other words, bro, you’re her designated babysitter.”

  Charlie’s expression remained placid, indicating he had no opinion on the matter. Then he nodded his head towards Henrik. “I’ll start on the search today.”

  “Good,” Henrik said before turning his head to the remaining two shifters. “Now, a friend of this teenage girl sent a message to her father, which was then received by Dylan. Said message contained two very important figures in our society today, one of them being Mya. The second is Lucinda. Apparently, Lucinda is in some sort of trouble and Mya may be involved.”

  Silence followed. Mya, a recent betrayer who’d aligned with the vampire Killian to create rogue vampires through a mix of magic and blood, and who’d recently murdered former vampire leader John Grimaldi III, had gone missing after Sophia—aka, John’s half-vampire daughter—had rendered Killian immobile enough to have Lucinda Bennett—aka, the third in line for the leader role—kill him permanently. Lucinda had then challenged Sophia to a fight for the throne, which Sophia promptly declined as she chose to live her life happily with Robbie. This made Lucinda the automatic leader of the vampire clan, and so far in the two years that she was leading, there were no vampire-related problems in the shifter world.

  Yet.

  It was bound to happen in time, Finn knew. Vampires and shifters never really agreed on each other’s beliefs to begin with, and the time would come when that all came to the surface.

  “You may have an idea what I’m on to,” Henrik started again when the silence persisted.

  “Yes. Witches are evil and can never be trusted,” Finn scoffed.

  “Hey,” Sophia protested.

  Oh, right. Half-vampire, she was.

  “Except you,” Finn backtracked solemnly.

  “Nice save,” Sophia grumbled.

  Henrik pretended the banter didn’t happen as he continued. “Robbie, Finn, I have a special task for you both.”

  Robbie nodded, still not saying anything. Finn shrugged, already expecting something along the lines of pacifying the relations between the two creatures again. He’d been assigned to visits like this before when the main leaders were busy, and he had no trouble charming his way into earning the trust of those cold-blooded creatures for a joint mission or two.

  Or killing the really evil ones, if need be.

  The next words out of Henrik’s mouth were definitely not what he expected.

  “There’s a vampire ball in Prague that Lucinda apparently needs to attend. Two of her guards have died of mysterious causes, and this is already being investigated by their kind. Now, your task is to take Lucinda to this ball safely—and to escort her home with no harm.”

  Another bout of silence spread through the group as they digested this. It was Charlie who broke it.

  “So… babysitting,” he deadpanned, expression not changing at all.

  “More like guarding,” Henrik stated.

  “Bullshit,” Finn put in.

  Henrik eyed him levelly. “Such eloquence. Anyway, this task is obviously off the books, but Dylan has given his approval because of our special—and tenuous—relations with the vampires at the moment. I want this handled with care.”

  Finn opened his mouth to refuse; no, he was absolutely not going to be a bodyguard for some cold, merciless vampire, but Sophia interrupted him before he could.

  “Can I just say that while I’m not a big fan of the vampires, having worked for them before
and all that… they’re not all bad. And Lucinda helped me once. She’s okay.”

  Those honey eyes were focused on Robbie, softly pleading—and Finn, unfortunately, was right in front of Robbie, which meant he could see exactly how Robbie’s eyes had softened before he finally nodded his head and gave Henrik a firm I’ll do it.

  Only a very, very bad guy would leave Robbie hanging in a vampire ball with cold, absolutely merciless vampires.

  “Well, fuck it,” Finn said out loud.

  “Language,” Charlie intoned.

  “Fuck. It,” Finn emphasized.

  It looked like he was not going to be returning to Ireland anytime soon.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The vampire ball, held once every decade at different countries in Europe, was an affair to remember, so to speak: a huge grand castle of some important vampire figure, a grand hall with sparkling chandeliers, and all important vampires in attendance, dressed in the finest and most expensive of clothing the world could offer. It was perhaps one of the biggest social affairs of the vampire world, meant to showcase the wealthiest and most powerful of them all—and to form significant alliances and make sure they were the correct ones.

  It was exciting, and it was the kind of event that no one scoffed at.

  Except maybe Lucinda Bennett, in secret.

  Lucinda wasn't excited; she was bored. She was so bored that her poker face, which she'd maintained for a few hours now, was starting to break into a yawn, a groan, a scream of agony before she rolled inside a coffin and never came back out. Really, a coffin would have been more fun the first few years.

  This ball, quite literally, was filled with once-dead people—bitten deliberately until they became the bloodsucking creatures they were, with a few rare cases of being born into it automatically. While once-dead people were pretty powerful, just like those resurrected through necromancy, they just didn't make for a fun conversation, especially when the topics mostly ranged from politics to their infinite hunger to... well, back to politics.