Twiceborn Endgame (The Proving Book 3)

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by Finlayson, Marina


  I crossed my legs and smiled sweetly. “Nothing, of course. I’m the queen; I can do what I like.”

  At least that’s the way it had always worked, with very few exceptions. No wonder dragons were so unpopular. Pack of bloody tyrants.

  “Nevertheless, the offer is genuine. You can choose not to believe me, but I warn you, anyone who stays will have to submit to questioning under a compulsion, so I’ll soon find out if you’re lying. And in that case I may not be so lenient. So choose wisely.”

  “Well, I’m not staying,” said Bear. He drew himself up to his full willowy height and thrust his chin out, as if daring me to smite him on the spot. For him I could almost wish I was the smiting type. I’d be in a much better position if he hadn’t engineered Thorne’s escape.

  Luce gestured him out of the pack, and he marched to one side like Joan of Arc heading for her funeral pyre. I fully expected him, at least, to try sneaking back into the country. His devotion to Thorne’s scheme was strong.

  But that was a problem for a future date.

  “Who else is joining Bear? Come on, don’t be shy.”

  No one moved for a long moment. Finally a goblin crossed to the other side of the room, and his defection set off a chain reaction. Soon there was barely half left, all human except for the two leshies that had been Alicia’s, and a lone selkie woman.

  “Corinne!” Bear said to her. “What are you doing?”

  She stared straight ahead and said nothing, her cheeks flushed with bright colour, her aura pale and trembling.

  “You’ll be sorry when we take this bitch down.”

  Garth crossed the floor in quick strides and backhanded him across the face. Bear staggered and threw me a venomous look. Shame looks couldn’t kill. I would have been a lump of dead meat and all his worries would have been over.

  “You might have trouble taking anyone down from the other side of the world,” I said mildly. “All of you can give your intended destinations to my security officer. You’ll be locked up until your flights can be arranged.”

  I motioned to Garth to take them away.

  “You’re lying!” Bear shrieked as he was herded towards the doors. “You’re going to keep us in chains forever.”

  Garth hit him again, just for good measure. I probably should have objected, but my dragon side was rather enjoying watching the leshy suffer. Dragons made bad enemies.

  When the doors had closed behind them, I turned to the remaining people. It was a smaller group than the one that had left. It didn’t look like I was ever going to win any popularity contests in the domain, at least while there were still any other options for shifters to cling to. Was it really that bad that I was half-human? Clearly other humans didn’t think so. I found it telling that all the humans among Elizabeth’s staff had chosen to stay on. I guess it didn’t make much difference to them which dragon butt sat on the throne. Maybe they even liked the idea that the shifter world was getting so shaken up.

  I sent two thralls to bring chairs for my new guests, and waited until they were settled comfortably. Well, “comfortably” probably wasn’t the right word. I could almost smell the fear in the room. They sat rigid in their chairs, bodies stiff with tension, as if they expected me to turn dragon any minute and devour them.

  Trying to appear non-threatening, I slumped down in my own chair. “Don’t look so worried. I hardly ever eat people.” All I got were a few sickly smiles. “Okay, let’s get this over with, and then you can all relax. It’s not too late to join the others if you’ve changed your mind.”

  Nobody moved, so I called forward the first of the two leshies who’d come with Alicia and Luce yesterday. “Let’s start with you. What’s your name?”

  “Yarrow.” His eyes were the green of new grass in spring, and they held my gaze unwaveringly, even as he felt my will invading him.

  “That’s an unusual name.”

  It was harder to compel a shifter than a human, and the stronger the shifter, the more difficult it became, which was why I’d chosen to leave the humans until last, and start with the shifters while I was still relatively fresh. Plus I wasn’t exactly in top condition after the events of the last few days.

  “My mother was an unusual woman.”

  Well, there were a few of us around.

  “Yesterday I killed your mistress, Alicia. How do you feel about that?”

  “Guilty.” His fabulous green eyes stared adoringly at me, completely under my spell. His aura, which was a muddy green like khaki, throbbed in time with my own heartbeat. That wasn’t disconcerting at all. He was a very easy subject for compulsion, as if he were eager to join with me.

  “Guilty? Why? You couldn’t have saved her.”

  He shook his head. “Guilty because I don’t feel bad that she’s dead.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “I didn’t like the way she hid behind us and let us take the hits meant for her. As if her life was worth more than ours.”

  She’d been a shocking coward, that was true, but such disregard for anyone else’s safety or comfort was hardly peculiar to Alicia—it was pretty standard dragon operating procedure. I’m all right, Jack, and bugger the lot of you.

  “So why did you work for her?”

  “Most of our clan did. We liked the living conditions.”

  She’d had an estate in the Blue Mountains that backed onto the bush. Terrible fire hazard, as it turned out, but the wilderness and seclusion were leshy catnip. Up there the only sounds were bellbirds in the trees, the only smells the citrus tang of lemon-scented gum, or the fresh aroma of moist earth after rain. For a forest-loving species like leshies, it was heaven on earth.

  “You could have chosen to stay out of the proving altogether.”

  His green gaze was direct. “So people say, but in practice it’s almost impossible for the stronger shifters. Dragons want allies and they don’t like taking no for an answer.”

  Well, that was certainly true. Time to wrap this up. I could feel my concentration wavering already.

  “And how do you feel about working for me?”

  “To be honest, I’d rather go home and leave you dragons to fight it out, but that wasn’t an option. I’m certainly not leaving Oceania. My roots are here. So it looks like I’m stuck with you.”

  Not exactly the ringing endorsement I’d been hoping for. “Will you follow me loyally?”

  “That madman Thorne will send the place to hell in a hand basket if he gets his way. You are the best chance we have of finding peace again.”

  That was slightly better news for my bruised ego. I released him with relief and sat back, trying not to let my dizziness show. Two more shifters and eight humans to go. I might have to pace myself.

  The next leshy, Carter, turned out to be the brother of Adam, the leshy who’d saved Ben and me during the battle at Alicia’s house. He was more enthusiastic in his support, knowing that I was an enemy both of Alicia, who’d put Adam in harm’s way, and of Jason, who’d killed him.

  That left the selkie woman, Corinne. Hopefully she’d prove weaker than the two leshies, as my head was pounding from the strain of holding them to my will. I probably shouldn’t even be trying to do something like this after the injuries I’d sustained yesterday. I rubbed at my chest where the scar still showed. It ached, but dully, like a wound that was three weeks healed.

  “Corinne.”

  She looked up at me. Her eyes were huge and brown, and her aura roiled like a storm at sea, the rich deep green of the troubled ocean.

  “There’s still time to change your mind,” I reminded her. The internal confusion her aura betrayed made me question her commitment, but she shook her head.

  I took a firm grip on her will and she relaxed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Her mind felt as alien as the leshies’, but where theirs had thrummed with earth energy and the joy of growing things, entering hers felt like sliding under a dark wave, cool and enveloping.

  “Will you support me loyally
and wholeheartedly, following every command I give you?”

  Best to keep this short. I could feel my will slipping away into the mysterious depths of her mind, dissipating like foam on the ocean.

  She nodded dreamily. “Yes, mistress.”

  That was good enough for me. I pulled myself together and got out of there before I drowned. What an intriguing mind. I’d never even met a selkie before, much less compelled one.

  I wondered what a kitsune’s mind would feel like. If I’d tested Kasumi’s loyalty like this when she’d turned up on my doorstep offering to join me, Lachie might still be here. Perhaps her mind would have been as slippery as her body, changing form and hiding the truth of what she was. But I’d been too human then to even think of such a thing, and with wolves as the only shifters on my team, no one else had thought of it either. Luce would probably have suggested it, but Luce had been trapped with Alicia.

  No use beating myself up about it now. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kasumi had been able to fool me anyway. She was a consummate trickster. She’d had me convinced she was the best thing since sliced bread, right up until the moment she’d put a dagger in my heart and taken off with my son. Now getting him back depended on me not stuffing things up again. To be a ruthless and suspicious dragon, not a trusting human.

  I needed a break—or at least a cup of coffee. Even dragons liked coffee. I turned to Garth and was about to suggest he take a quick trip to the kitchen when the double doors opened again and a familiar figure strode in.

  “Ben!” Okay, it turned out that relief beat anger after all. Just. Knowing that the stupid, pig-headed man was still in one piece was better than a cup of coffee any day.

  He gave me a quick one-armed hug. Stubble scraped my lips when he kissed me. He looked tired and he held his bad arm against his body as if it were hurting him.

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  His grin widened. His eyes were the same rich brown as the selkie woman’s, but he was one hundred per cent human. I knew. I’d checked every inch.

  “I brought you a present.”

  “Roses? Chocolates? Gideon Thorne’s head on a stick, perhaps?”

  He shook his head, making his dark curls bounce. If he didn’t get a haircut soon he’d start looking like Michael Jackson in his Thriller period.

  “Better. I found Blue Munroe.” He turned, sweeping his good arm through an extravagant arc like a magician unveiling his trick, and two thralls marched Blue Munroe, goblin mage extraordinaire, through the door behind him.

  Maybe “marched” wasn’t the right word. The goblin reeked of alcohol, and one whiskery cheek rested uncomfortably on the shoulder of the thrall to his left. His whole body listed that way, as if caught in an invisible wind, and he seemed to be having trouble focusing. The wind was probably called Johnnie Walker, judging by the smell.

  Bright orange hair hung in a tangled mat across his face. Blue blinked owlishly in a futile effort to clear it out of the way.

  “Hello, Kate,” he slurred.

  I sighed. Sober, Blue might be a good find. If he could be persuaded to co-operate, a little goblin magic could be handy. Drunk, however—and Blue was almost always drunk—he was no use to anyone.

  “Where on earth did you find him?” Ben was looking a little grubbier than usual himself, though on his handsome face stubble was a much more attractive addition than on the bleary-eyed goblin.

  “It was more under earth,” he said. “I had to pull a few strings, or I’d still be searching.”

  Blue’s eyes had sagged closed while we talked. He now appeared to be asleep on his feet, his weight resting on the thrall who held him. The poor man stared straight ahead, trying to pretend a stinking and none-too-clean goblin was not, in fact, drooling on his shoulder.

  “What are we going to do with him?” I could hardly drag my eyes from the damp spot spreading on the thrall’s crisp white shirt.

  “Step one is get him sober. Step two—who knows? He’s a goblin mage. Use your imagination.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  An hour later the police were knocking on my door—just another one of the fabulous bonuses of my new lifestyle. My old friends Detectives Hartley and Franks had managed to track me to my new home, probably courtesy of another anonymous tip-off to the police hotline. There was no shortage of shifters eager to cause trouble for me. I could practically smell the suspicion coming off them as they entered.

  “Nice place.” Detective Hartley’s sharp eyes swept over the antique furniture, the high decorative ceilings, the luxurious swags of velvet draped over the floor-to-ceiling windows, then came to rest on me. She had a way of looking at you that would have made even the most innocent person feel guilty, as if she had assessed you and found you wanting. “You been here long?”

  She knew I hadn’t, but that was her style, always trying to catch you out with seemingly innocuous questions. Last time she’d interviewed me, I’d been living at Arcadia on one of Leandra’s properties, a large house set on several hectares. Elizabeth’s house left it for dead, grandiose enough to qualify for the name “palace”. Only someone seriously wealthy could afford to live in a place like this.

  “Just got here,” I said. “My aunt died unexpectedly, and I’ve come to settle her affairs.”

  “Who’s your aunt?” Detective Franks asked. His eyes were small and close together, which gave him a shifty look. “She must be rich.”

  “She is. Or was, rather.” I looked down at the carpet. I wasn’t going to pretend to be heartbroken at the loss, but a little sadness was probably expected. Especially if the story was going to be that we were so close she’d left all her wealth to me. I had people drawing up the relevant documents even as we spoke: fake birth certificates and other ID, as well as a comprehensive will. “You might have heard of her. Elizabeth Appleby.”

  Detective Hartley nodded. “Sorry for your loss. I don’t like to intrude at such a sad time, but we have some more questions for you.”

  “Have you found my husband?”

  I’d set her on Jason’s trail last time we spoke, with a light compulsion that would have long since worn off. Messing with people’s minds was never a great idea, particularly if those people were police officers. Others tended to notice if detectives suddenly developed weird obsessions, or started acting in illogical ways. It could ruin careers, and I didn’t want to be responsible for that. Sure, they were a pain in my arse with their questions, but they were only trying to do their job.

  “No. Not yet.”

  Did she realise she frowned every time she looked at me? I felt a twinge of guilt. In other circumstances I would have liked Detective Hartley. She was thorough and dedicated, with a healthy cynicism, the kind of person who makes a good friend but a bad enemy. Not an easy person to fool. The poor woman was probably still wondering why her memories of certain recent events flat-out contradicted the notes she’d made on them. For an orderly mind like hers it must be particularly galling not to be able to trust your own recall. I wish I could have come up with some other way of dealing with the problems my own stupidity had created, but I’d been caught between a rock and a hard place, with no time for finesse.

  “Actually we wanted to talk to you about something completely different,” Detective Franks said.

  “Where were you last night between ten and eleven p.m.?” Detective Hartley asked.

  My first instinct was to insist I’d been home all night, with the whole household to back me up, but instinct was what had got me into such a mess last time. They wouldn’t be asking for no reason.

  Her voice was mild, as if she only had a vague interest in my answer, but I wasn’t fooled. They were already suspicious of me over Valeria’s death, and then there were the infamous “dragon wars” outside my old house at The Rocks that the Internet was still buzzing about. Denials weren’t going to wash with them.

  “Why?” I hedged. “Am I under suspicion for something else now?”

  “Answer the question, ple
ase.” Hartley was too old a hand at this to give me any clues.

  “I was out with a group of friends.”

  “And where did you go with this group?”

  Damn it, I’d probably hesitated too long already. An innocent person would be gushing about the scary explosion at the hotel they’d visited, not prevaricating about whether or not to answer. If they were here asking, they already had something that placed me at the scene. Maybe Jason had tipped them off, trying to cause trouble for me. Tit for tat, I guess, since I’d set him up with the cops too.

  “We were going to go to a nightclub, but we stopped at the Park Hyatt on the way. Did you hear about the explosion there?”

  They exchanged glances. Did I sound too eager now?

  “You were going clubbing right after your aunt died?” Detective Franks sounded as if he found the idea offensive.

  Shit. Why was I such a bad liar? “Well, I wasn’t really in the mood, of course, but my friends thought it might cheer me up.”

  “I see.” Detective Hartley wrote something in her notebook. “Yes, we did hear about the explosion. We were hoping you might be able to tell us more about that.”

  “Why would you think I’d know anything about it?” I let indignation colour my tone. It would be so much easier if I could just compel this all away, but I resisted the urge. I had too much respect for Hartley to screw her over again if I could possibly avoid it.

  “I don’t know, Ms O’Connor, let me think.” Detective Hartley held up her fingers and ticked her points off on them. “One, you lied to us about your movements on New Year’s Eve, and the fact that you did know the murdered woman, despite initially denying it.”

  “I told you, that was all my husband’s fault.”

  She ignored me. “Two, there’s some kind of shoot-out at your home in The Rocks, plus footage of a dragon and some other weird creatures being involved. Three dead bodies there, to add to the one we fished out of the Harbour on New Year’s Eve. And three, last night there’s a mysterious explosion at the Park Hyatt, with another death, and we have CCTV footage placing you at the scene just a few minutes before the explosion.”

 

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