by Zara Zenia
I still don’t see anyone, but there are statues everywhere, paintings, murals and tapestries. The floor in the atrium is a mosaic and the finials on all the stairs are intricately carved by master hands.
Morgan lets out a low whistle behind me and then joins me at the railing.
“Where the hell are we?”
I frown, pondering the question, but the answer seems obvious. It’s the only real answer there could be. “I think we’re in the dragons’ palace,” I say, my voice sounding ominous with the announcement. I guess there are worse places to be.
Chapter Eighteen
Eva
“So what is this one?” I ask, poking at the latest plate put in front of me.
“Oh, this is Bezelgon Soup, it’s delicious,” Brandt says, shoveling a big spoonful in his mouth.
This has to be the fourth or fifth course to this meal and it’s only lunch! I’ve yet to have a formal dinner here at the palace, but something tells me that it’s going to be a big affair that last eight hours or more. Not that I can complain. Every weird-looking dish they’ve put in front of me has been — as Brandt says — delicious.
I take a spoonful of the viscous liquid. It certainly doesn’t look appealing. It’s kind of slimy looking and an opaque whitish-yellow color. There are unidentifiable chunks floating around in it, but when I bring the spoon to my nose and sniff, it smells good. That’s one point in the soup’s favor. So I take a bite and force the weird-textured soup down. It’s a little like swallowing snot, but it tastes pretty damn good, I have to give it that.
I take another bite and the texture is still off-putting, but I don’t want to be rude about it. Brandt and Trylor have been so generous to me these past couple of days. It took me a while to get back on my feet and I’ve mostly just been wandering around the endless hallways and rooms of the palace during the day, trying to find things to keep me occupied, but mostly ending up in front of a window, staring out at the distant fires.
They scared me at first, blazing and burning endlessly on the horizon, but now I like them. They’re comforting in a way. Like staring into a fireplace on a winter night. They warm me all the way to my toes and the flickering dancing silhouettes and shadows are never the same twice. It’s mesmerizing.
But I pulled myself away from staring at the fires long enough to have this lunch with Brandt and Trylor. I asked about Lucas and Morgan, but of course they don’t eat like we do.
“You don’t have to eat that,” Trylor says as I gulp down a third spoonful.
By now, my throat is actively resisting swallowing the stuff and I’m having to force back a gag, but I don’t want them to see and think I’m insulting their cuisine.
I shake my head, swallowing finally. “It’s really tasty—”
Trylor barks out a laugh, his eyes sparkling. “It’s horrid and I hate it. Brandt’s the only person that likes it.”
My eyes go wide and then both brothers laugh at me as I set the spoon down and push the bowl gently away.
“I’m sorry, Eva, I should have told you,” Brandt says, mischief glinting in his eyes.
I smile back, knowing that they were just teasing me. I like that they tease me. I like this feeling of comfort I have when I’m with them. I like how easy we get along. I know that things can’t be this way forever, that at some point I’m going to have to face the reason I’m here and make this weapon everyone’s expecting me to make, but I don’t know how or when or what to do when that time comes. There’s still so much I don’t know and I’m still just trying to get used to being on another planet. I don’t know how many things I can adjust to at one time.
“Now this,” Trylor says as his staff come back bearing more covered dishes that sendoff deliciously aromatic perfumes. Despite having practically already eaten my weight during this meal, my mouth starts to water at the newest offering. “This is a real delicacy. Roasted Ferroswine. They’re difficult to hunt, very smart, very dangerous. But they’re huge and can feed an entire family for a month. Every time someone kills one, a small portion of the animal is sent to us as tribute. We don’t enforce that, it’s just tradition.”
The dish is uncovered to reveal what looks remarkably like a rack of ribs, if they were the ribs of a sperm whale or something. Each one of these ‘ribs’ is probably a whole cow worth of meat and I’ve got two on my plate.
“Guys, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not a dragon. I can’t handle these portions.”
They both chuckle and Brandt nudges me gently with his shoulder. “Don’t worry, whatever you don’t want I’ll help you finish off.”
“It’s true,” Trylor says. “He’s insatiable.”
Despite the conversation being about food, that comment makes my face flush and sends heat flooding south until I have to squeeze my thighs together to ward off the rush of arousal. That keeps happening. I thought at first, when we were at my place that it was just because of the danger and excitement. That it was just the shock of two super-hot guys being in the same area as me, then being interested in me. I told myself that any girl would react that way and that it would pass with time.
But it’s not passing. It’s just getting worse. The more time I spend with any of them, the more I want them. The more I crave them and wake up hot and sweaty at night imagining their hands and mouths on my body. It’s unsettling to say the least, but frustrating as hell too, because I don’t think either of them is actually considering doing anything. And that’s kind of insulting, but I also get it I guess. If I’m so special and I’m supposed to be making this weapon, the last thing they’d want to do is jeopardize that by tangling matters between us.
Never mind how much I want them to get tangled.
“When are you going to give me a tour of Desergan?” I finally ask, trying to steer the conversation away from Brandt’s appetite, sexual or no.
I might be imagining it, but I think that Trylor’s expression falters for a moment before he takes a big bite of his Ferroswine. Brandt’s the one to answer me though.
“Soon enough,” he says. “We can’t yet. You need to stay in the palace to allow your body to adjust to the atmosphere and increased pressure here.”
I nod, nothing else to say. That makes sense. I’ve never traveled to another planet, but a quarantine period sounds reasonable. I hadn’t even given consideration to whether I can breathe the air outside, even. I’m sure Brandt and Trylor would warn me if I couldn’t, though.
“In the meantime, you’re stuck here with us,” he says grinning that heart-stopping panty-melting grin at me, his neon green eyes sparkling like peridot.
A thrill shivers all the way down my spine at the heated tone of his words. I can definitely think of worse places to be stuck. And worse people to be stuck with.
I eat a small amount of the ribs — and it’s delicious as well, but I can hardly stand to take another bite — and then the staff brings out dessert. Dessert at lunch! If this is what living in a palace is like, I might be able to give up my woods.
That thought sends a pang of sadness through me, but I can’t dwell on it right now. I can’t focus on what I’ve lost, only what I stand to gain. And what I stand to gain is sitting right here in front of me, smiling at me like there’s nothing else in the world. Or any world, for that matter.
“You know, I could get used to this kind of living,” I say after inhaling a piece of chocolate cake. Yeah, so much for not being able to take another bite. There’s always room for dessert.
Brandt chuckles and Trylor grins.
“I’m glad you like it,” Trylor says. “I hope you’ll always enjoy yourself here and make yourself at home.”
“Thank you,” I say, trying to find the words to express how he’s already made me feel so at home, but I’m not sure those words exist in my vocabulary. I’ll have to find some other way to thank him another time.
Trylor pushes his chair back from the table and stands. I start to get up too, but he holds out a hand to stop me.
<
br /> “Please, stay, enjoy the meal. I have things I must address. I’ve been away from the palace for too long and my advisers have numerous updates for me.” He sounds sad about his duties and I wish that I could help, that I could take away some of the stress and obligation, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m not even from here. Trylor nods to us both before leaving and then it’s just me and Brandt at the huge dining table.
“There’s something I wanted to show you,” he says after a moment of silence.
“Oh?”
“Nothing too special, but something I think you’ll like. Perhaps one of my favorite places in the palace.”
My heart beats a little faster at that. Brandt wants to show me something special and personal to him? It seems so special, so intimate. Already I’m ready to leap out of my chair and run after him where ever he wants to take me, but he’s not moving, he’s just watching me, waiting for something.
“Are you interested?” he asks hesitantly.
I grin, realizing he thought there was a chance I’d reject him. Crazy man. “Yes, of course!”
Brandt’s grin mirrors my own and he takes my hand before leading me out of the dining hall. He’s moving fast, not giving me time to admire the artwork or architecture, but luckily I’ve already seen most of it in the past couple of days. Then we turn down another hall and this one is unfamiliar, but eerily similar. I guess that’s just how palaces work. It would be far too easy to get lost in this place. Luckily, I don’t really worry about that with Trylor and Brandt around. This palace — as grandiose as it is — is their home and they know their way around it flawlessly.
Brandt stops at a door and flattens his palm against a scanner in the wall. It lights up red and then flashes, the lock on the door sliding free. He holds the door open for me and I take a deep breath, not sure what to expect. I don’t know Brandt that well. His favorite place in the palace might be my least favorite place. That would be awkward, right?
But no, the room is huge and open and airy, trees growing in small clusters here and there, providing a shady canopy for the dappled amber light to filter through. The room is at least three stories tall; we’re on the ground level, but the room stretches all the way to the ceiling, a skylight above letting in all that natural light.
As strange as it is to have an indoor forest, I’m thrilled about it, excited to spend my days lounging under the shade of these alien trees, and then I see it’s not just and indoor forest. It’s a library.
I missed the books because of the trees, but now that I’m looking, every wall is covered with shelves and shelves and shelves of books. Instantly, I start wandering through them, looking across the spines at symbols and words that mean absolutely nothing to me.
“There’s probably enough reading material here to keep even the most avid bookworm busy for a lifetime,” Brandt says, his warm voice right behind me, his body radiating heat like he’s on fire.
I turn to face him, my eyes wide and awed. “It’s amazing. I wish I was smarter. I only know one language so there’s probably not a ton I can read, but I can’t think of a better place to be.”
And I mean it. Looking up into his green gaze, his eyes regarding me with so much warmth and compassion, I can’t imagine being more content anywhere. Not even in my woods.
“You’re perfect,” he says softly, under his breath, so quiet I’m not sure I hear him at all.
“What?”
“You said you wish you were smarter. But you shouldn’t. You’re perfect the way you are, Eva. Perfect, beautiful, kind…” He leans forward and his hand slides up my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulls me toward him. My heart’s in my throat, beating so fast I think it might explode, but I can’t really think about that. All I can think about is Brandt’s fingers on the back of my skull, his eyes burning into mine and his lips, close enough to taste.
And before I know what I’m doing, I’ve closed that last bit of distance between us, his lips melding to mine, searing the memory of him into me. His kiss takes my breath away and sends a bolt of pure desire straight to my core. I know that’s not going to be enough, but as he breaks the kiss and pulls away, I’m smiling anyway, happier than I’ve been in a long, long time.
Chapter Nineteen
Morgan
“It’s been days,” I growl, pacing the floor. That seems to be all I’m able to do these days. Pace and growl. We still haven’t seen Eva since we arrived. We haven’t really seen much of anyone. We’ve tried, of course, but have been met with resistance at every turn.
“Impatience isn’t going to benefit us,” Lucas says with a sigh.
I know he’s right, but that doesn’t stop my mind from racing. What if they’re mistreating her? What if they’re holding her somewhere against her will? What if — and the thought makes my throat tighten painfully to even consider — she didn’t make it through and they just haven’t told us?
I can’t dwell on that thought any longer because it makes me see red. Surely if something was amiss, we’d know about it?
But I don’t trust these dragons and I don’t really even believe that much.
“I’m tired of sitting around doing nothing, waiting for information that never seems to come.”
Lucas nods, burying his head in his hands. “Do you think I’m not?”
The tightness in his voice tells me everything I need to know about how he’s feeling. He’s just as worried and stressed about all of this as I am. He’s just better at reining in his anxiety. But I don’t want to rein it in. I want to go on a rampage, attacking anyone and everyone that stands between me and Eva and the truth.
A sharp knock on the door startles us both and we shoot to our feet in preparation.
The door opens without us answering, and I grind my teeth together. Why bother knocking if you’re not offering the courtesy of waiting for a response? Dragons — uncivilized the lot of them, no matter how posh their palace, they’re still animals.
The curly haired blood-delivering maid steps into the room, but she’s empty-handed and looking nervous about that detail. I don’t even attempt to hide my snarl, fangs popping out for dramatic effect.
She shrinks back, flinching, but then proceeds forward into the middle of the room.
“King Trylor and his advisers seek an audience with you,” she says.
King, of course he’s the damned king. Lucas and I exchange a glance, but there’s nothing to be done for it. We’re in his palace, on his planet, there’s no way we can deny the king.
Besides, we need to know where Eva is. We need to see her. To hear her voice. To know she’s all right after all this time.
Time normally doesn’t mean much to a vampire. Days blur into years, which turn into decades in the blink of an eye. But these few days without Eva, without knowing where she is or what’s going on here, have been the longest days of my incredibly long life. Each day feels like a century unto itself and I’m desperate for this torture to end.
“Fine,” I say before Lucas even answers. I’ll talk to whoever I need to if it means I’m not left in the dark anymore.
Lucas sighs, nodding as well.
The maid turns and heads out the door, not waiting to find out if we’re following her or not. I guess we don’t get any time to make ourselves presentable for the king, but that’s just as well. I’m not sure what that would actually entail for me. It’s not like we managed to bring a change of clothes or anything.
We follow the maid through the palace, down twisting hallways that seem to take us around in circles, but we don’t wind up where we started, we’re outside an ornate door flanked by two dragon guards. They’re the first actual dragons we’ve seen since we’ve been here. Everyone else around the palace seems content to operate in human form, which just makes these big hulking dragons look even more out of place. They’re both covered in garnet scales that reflect gold in the light. Nearly twice as tall as any human, they stand on two legs, wings tucked in behind them, huge arms crossed in fr
ont of their chests. They appear to be unarmed, but who needs weapons when you have steel claws and can breathe fire?
I should probably be intimidated by the guards, but I know that’s the intended effect, so I ignore them best I can, waiting for the door to open.
The moment the door cracks, a cacophony of voices tumbles out, arguing and bickering, though I can’t make out any of the words. It sounds like they’re speaking a dozen languages at once and none of them are ones I’m familiar with.
When we walk in — Lucas taking the lead — the arguing stops and every stern-looking man seated around the enormous circular table stops what he’s doing to glare at us. It’s obviously a conference room of some kind, with Trylor in the seat of honor, his chair larger and more ornate than any of the others. The circular room is lined with windows, but the shades are drawn closed on every one of them, seemingly out of courtesy to us.
Trylor stands and gestures to the pair of empty chairs opposite him. “I’m glad you could join us,” he says.
“Not like we had a say in the matter,” I mutter under my breath.
Lucas shoots me a glare, but no one else acknowledges my lack of decorum. Probably just as well. I’ve never been good at first impressions.
“What is this about?” Lucas asks, his voice no less harsh than mine, but his words slightly more acceptable.
Trylor sits again, his face looking grim. He’d looked worried before, when the wolves were closing in on us, but this is different, this is another level of concern for the King.
“My advisers have expressed concern about your presence here,” he says, choosing each word carefully.
“You had no right to bring vampires to our planet!” shouts a red-faced man with more lines wrinkling his face than I have years behind me.