“Can we check out some of the souvenir tables?” Gunnar asked calmly.
The power was hitting everyone now. I hastily drew it all in to myself, and my eyes grew dazed, flecks of sparkling white flickering here and there as I steadied myself. The power tendrils were diminished, but several still latched onto my companions. Tory and Gunnar were more alert again, studying me. “I’m confused.” Tory mumbled, rubbing at her temples. This was crazy. I had no idea what was happening to me. Was it dragons? I mentally examined myself, but realized that it was all me.
“Let’s just get this over with. Follow me.” I commanded sharply. They each shrugged, Tory quickly snatching my hand. I was unable to fully block them from my draining power, but it was a bit better than before. I used a brisk pace to help distract us. Just keep everyone moving. Maybe that would help.
As we slipped through the crowd, I allowed several tendrils to leak out of me whenever a group of people I didn’t want to talk to would attempt to move towards us. I was, after all, a celebrity in town. Everyone wanted to be seen conversing with the Master Temple. Photographers mingled here and there. I pointedly used my power to guide them away from me. I didn’t want a swarm of paparazzi following us. I wanted to find out anything that might help us, and then get the hell out of here. I had, perhaps, two hours until sunset when I would have to fight Asterion. We needed to hurry.
Without warning, a thick tendril shot out of my control, darting through the crowd to latch onto a curvy, tall woman in a red dress. As if in slow motion, she turned to stare at me over her shoulder. I saw a grin split her cheeks. It was the jogger I had seen outside the courthouse with Gunnar. The one who had given me a number, but no name. My cherry Danish. Gunnar grumbled about the world being unfair, then gold digger.
Tory’s hand tightened in mine, her nails pressing into my palms. My control slipped a bit as the jogger approached. “Well, well, well. I’ve been waiting for you to call me, but it seems like you found a different piece of candy for the evening. Perhaps later?” She purred. She studied Tory from head to toe, nodding her approval. “Nice choice.” Her eyes focused on my chest, exactly where the dragon tooth lay. I shivered, imagining that she could see it.
Gunnar laughed loudly. “I need a stiffer drink.”
Tory’s hand squeezed tighter, and I knew my control was slipping even further. “She’s really pretty, but am I prettier?” She asked softly.
The jogger stepped in closer, and her body heat hit me like a wave of power. Her hips brushed mine as her warm palm touched my chest, her pupils dilating. Something slid across her iris, revealing a glimpse of a horizontal black bar, and I blinked. Contacts?
Shit.
I jumped back, slamming my lack of restraint solely into the jogger. She stumbled, and then shook her head as if dazed. “Dragon,” I whispered.
She nodded, happy that she could please me with an affirmative answer.
Gunnar and Tory both started at that, momentarily refocusing.
Without a thought, I simply commanded her, and she obeyed.
“Who are you?”
“Misha.”
“What color are you?” I asked, terrified that other dragons were possibly surrounding us. She tapped her finger against the fabric of her dress in answer. “Red?” A nod. “You tried to kill me on the roof of the courthouse. Then gave me your number after. Were you wearing contacts then too?” I asked, disgusted at my own stupidity.
She nodded; her edgy blonde bangs brushing her thin jaw. “It wasn’t very nice of me to do what I did, but I can make it up to you…” Her eyes promised a very dark, and appealing, payment. Sex.
“Um, perhaps another time.” I muttered.
“I’ll go check out those tables, I guess.” Gunnar offered, not seeming to care one way or another.
“Can you grab me one of those cute telescopes?” Tory clapped her hands delightedly.
“No, none of us are going anywhere.” The girls sagged, frowning. Gunnar shrugged. “Misha, I want you to take me to your leader.”
“But you are my leader.” She answered simply.
Huh. That was… helpful. “No, before me, you were following the orders of someone else. Is he here?” She looked genuinely puzzled for a few seconds, and then understanding dawned on her. She nodded. “Can you introduce me to him?”
She squeaked in excitement and snatched up my hand, drawing Tory and me off bodily into a secluded hallway. “The Dragon Father is this way.” Gunnar followed behind us, glancing unconcernedly at paintings decorating the wall. I was leading a pack of fumbling idiots, so what did that make me?
Tory whispered into my ear. “She works out, but her butt needs attention.” She pointed at Misha’s rear end. My face flushed, but luckily, Misha didn’t appear to notice. “That one looks like you, Gunnie!” Tory giggled, pointing at a painting of Vikings.
Gunnar’s chest swelled with pride as he nodded, not even hearing the pet name. What had I just gotten myself into? Meeting the Dragon Father? The one who had been trying to kill me for the last few days? Hey, Dragon Father. I noticed that you had been trying to kill me lately, so just wanted to swing by and say ‘Hello.’
Right, and I wondered why I always found myself in dangerous situations.
Gunnar began whistling lazily behind us, totally useless as a guardian. I struggled to withdraw a heavy tendril latched onto him, and his eyes immediately began to clear. He looked from me to the two stunning women pulling me down the hallway. “Is this a good idea?” He asked with a frown.
“Probably not. Try something for me. Touch your tattoo and keep your finger there.” He frowned, but did so. “Alright, I’m going to release my restraint for a second.” He nodded, and I let go of my precarious grip. Gunnar flinched for a second, and then growled at the air in front of him as if he could see the tendrils trying to latch onto him. His awareness was simply too strong for my careless tendrils to overcome him while he touched his tattoo. I almost clapped my hands, but of course, each was firmly trapped in a different girl’s hand. “Keep touching it. It’s the only way for you to stay focused.” He nodded, now studying the hallway like a caged tiger as he followed us.
I let go of Misha’s hand, smiling at her curious glance back, and motioned her on. Her dress was open to the top of her tailbone, revealing a flat, muscled back, and the gentle curve as it crept lower to her rear. I didn’t at all agree with Tory’s claim.
“Tory,” I whispered. She beamed up at me. “I need you to focus on your strength, your unique ability. Can you do that?” She looked puzzled. “I think it’s cute.” I added.
“Really? You think it’s cute?” I nodded, forcing a smile. “Okay then.” Her eyes strained for a minute, struggling against my power seepage. I didn’t want to risk pulling it away from her in case it affected Misha too. She took a quick breath, and then stared up at me, eyes clear but wide. “Wow. The stupidity is gone.” She stated bluntly.
“I’m so sorry that I put you through that. Can you control yourself now?”
She nodded, face set in determination. “I want to make something very clear though, Nate. You scare me. Do you normally have more control than this?” I nodded. “Good. You just made me look like an idiot. I had no filter for my thoughts, and that is flat out embarrassing.”
I felt guilty as hell. “How about we just pretend this didn’t happen.” I offered.
“Please.” She answered, cheeks rosy. We continued on in silence before she spoke again. “Do you think she’s cute?”
I blinked back. “Um. Am I still leaking power on you?”
Tory shook her head. “No, I just think she’s cute.”
I looked at her. “Sure, but she’s a dragon, and she tried to kill me.”
“There is that…” There was a longer silence. “Do you think when this is all finished — if she switches sides, of course — she’ll go out for a drink with me?”
I didn’t have the slightest clue how to answer Tory.
“Sure. You’re beautiful.” She smiled at that, so I chose subtlety next. “I take it you like girls?”
“I’m bisexual, but my tendencies lean more towards women most of the time.”
I was quiet for a few moments before answering. “I’m pretty sure that if I was born a girl I would be a lesbian too. You girls are just so damn adorable.” She turned to look at me, and then began laughing loud enough for Gunnar to grumble unpleasant things behind me.
My life.
Chapter 29
M isha stopped in front of a large single door. The number 901 stood above it, marking it as one of the priciest suites in the hotel. Two women — dragons, I assumed — stood outside the door, guarding their Dragon Father. They also wore contacts, hiding the horizontal slits of their eyes. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of that sooner.
“Misha, what have you brought us, and why can I not feel you?” An African American dragon hissed. Her eyes were a bright green, but I didn’t know if that was the contacts or her real eyes. “Snacks? A…” She sniffed the air in our general direction. “Wizard, a werewolf, and an appetizer…” She smiled at Tory.
Tory simply smiled. I spoke. “I wish to declare the Accords in effect. We chose to come in peace, and you will abide by that or the Dragon Nation will be destroyed by the Academy.” I had absolutely no authority to command such a thing on behalf of the ruling body of wizards, but they didn’t know that. The dragons tensed, grimacing as if tasting something displeasing.
“Then where is your gold? Your diamonds? A gift befitting the Dragon Lord must be offered, lest he feel slighted.” The second dragon argued, her orange eyes smoldering. “Or is this appetizer our diamond? She does have a fine collar on. Perhaps she’s an obedient little kitty cat.”
Having already given Tory the diamond necklace, I produced a gold bar from my pocket instead. Gunnar and Tory’s eyes widened. My suit had been reinforced and tailored to hold heavy objects without dragging the entire suit down in a noticeable way. I liked to carry odd things on my person every now and then. “I bring gifts. Even for the guard dogs.” I tossed the bar to the first dragon, and she practically quivered at the slight. “Open the door, Misha. I won’t be kept waiting.”
Misha complied, still pleasantly grinning at the apparent promise I had made of sex later. We walked inside, and there he was. I idly wondered whether I should address him as Dragon Lord, or Dragon Father since I had heard both titles, but didn’t really care if I ended up using the wrong one. I already had enough friends.
He was older, but looked to be in the prime of his life. Silver streaks jetted back from his temples, fading into his golden blonde hair. He was built like a football player, and wearing a tan custom-made suit. He reeked of money. He stood before us, curiously watching us enter, and then he smiled. “Greetings, Master Temple.” He grimaced at my nametag. “Or should I call you by your politically incorrect nametag, Archangel? I had hoped to meet you soon.” He looked at Misha. “I assumed she had been killed when I could no longer sense her, but I see that she has simply found a new master. Good luck. She is quite unruly. And obviously incompetent since she couldn’t even kill you at the courthouse.”
Then he turned his back on us, and walked into a vast sitting room with a fireplace roaring near one wall. I gambled. “So, what are you doing here, Raego?” I demanded.
He frowned, looking momentarily confused at my knowledge of his name. “First things first,” he answered instead. “I believe you announced the Academy Accords.” I nodded. “Then we must exchange gifts.” He clapped his hands and three more women entered the room, completely nude. I couldn’t make out their eye color, but they probably wore contacts as well. They carried a chest between them, setting it on the ground before their master. He flicked a finger, and the dragons moved about the room to what seemed like pre-informed positions.
Two of them stood near my party. One of them stared at Tory a bit longer than the other, and then sized me up and down hungrily. Hungry for eating me or sexing me, I wasn’t sure. It looked like it could have been either. “Since you have requested my hospitality, it’s only fair that you present your gift first. But I can’t imagine what else you could possibly be hiding on your perfectly tailored frame. One gold bar was impressive, but I do not sense another on you. Perhaps the girl really is the gift?” He smiled politely.
I smiled back icily. “No, she is not. She is my snack to nibble as I please.” I sensed absolutely nothing from Tory.
I noticed my power was still draining out of me, drifting around the room for a target. The Dragon Lord scowled. “You are leaking, wizard. That is not wise. I have already taken precautions lest you take any more of my harem.”
“I knew it was called a harem!” I exclaimed, grinning. Gunnar shrugged as if losing a bet. “Speaking of your little harem, what’s up with all the different colored dragons? It’s like a bag of skittles in here.” I motioned at the array of dragons around us.
The Dragon Lord nodded. “There is a uniqueness to our genetics that doesn’t guarantee a child will end up the same color as his or her parents. Just because I am a golden dragon does not mean that I will have a golden heir. I collect as many colors as I can in hopes of increasing my chances of getting the color I desire. But that really isn’t why we’re here, is it?”
I nodded, contemplating his words, and idly wondered what color dragon he was hoping for as his heir. He had said he was a golden dragon, but the dragon hunters had said Raego was a black dragon. Maybe he was lying about being gold. I knew I was missing something. I reached into my pocket to withdraw a heavy piece of paper. “Title to a small diamond mine in Africa, ready to be signed over to you at your leisure. I dare say that this is better than whipping out a bag of uncut diamonds, or another bar of gold.” I added sarcastically.
The Dragon Lord seemed surprised. “How very thoughtful of you. How long has it been in your family?” He asked, growing interested.
“Since 1631, but we have never mined it. Some of my ancestor’s searched for their engagement stones in the mines, but it has never seen a machine or work force since our ownership. It was estimated to be quite a promising mine, and my ancestors never had problems finding precious stones there when they chose to. I myself have five stones from the mine, ranging from two carats, to an impressive five carat. Of course that is after it was cut. It was bigger when I found it.” I added nonchalantly.
The Dragon Lord practically salivated. “I hope my gift can compare.” I handed the deed to the closest dragon and she delivered it to her master without a word, and then came back to stand before me. Without preamble she grabbed my wrist. Before I could even react, Tory slammed her hand down in a chopping motion against the dragon’s forearm. The sound of bone snapping was louder than expected, and I felt my stomach shift as blood sprayed across both Tory and I from the dragon’s bone tearing through the thin flesh and muscle of her arm. She shrieked, leaping back in surprise and pain. Then she took a step towards Tory, face contorted in rage as her arm dangled loosely at her side. “Stop!” The Dragon Lord commanded.
Tory wiped a bit of blood from her face, glanced down at her glistening fingertips and then the fine crimson arc across her white dress. She smiled. “My favorite color.” Misha beamed approval as if it were a direct compliment to her.
“Oh, I do like her. You are quite right, Master Temple. She is no light snack. Nibbling would be the only way to taste such a bounty.” The Dragon Lord chuckled. “But Aria was merely going to guide you to the chest. She really should have asked permission to touch you first. I believe her punishment will suffice?” He asked. I nodded. “She should be healed by tomorrow or the day after, at any rate.” He said casually.
“What?” I asked.
“We heal rather fast, Master Temple. Take Misha for example. Took a lightning stick through the thigh last night, yet here she is.” Misha nodded as she lifted her dress rather high to show me a bare expanse of thigh, as well as a quick glimp
se of a red satin garter belt. Tory’s eyes went hungry for a moment before she regained her control.
I strode over to the chest, wary of the prearranged gift. I undid the clasp and heaved the lid back. Inside sat a delicately worked music box. Tiny, really. Especially for such a large chest. I looked up at him, frowning. “This is a gift fit for a young girl, not a grown wizard. Perhaps I should give you a vending machine ring in exchange.” I snapped.
He raised a finger. “The story is what is important.” I waited, tapping my foot impatiently. “This was supposedly lifted from Temple Industries the day your parents died. In a mysterious room warded with magic. I reclaimed it from the perpetrator when he tried to flip it for cash. I paid heavily for it, assuming it to be quite valuable, but I have been unable to discover its purpose. No music. No magic. Nothing. Just a shiny box.”
“Why shouldn’t I believe that you just took it yourself?” I growled, power coursing through my veins as I remembered the video I had just seen in Ashley’s office. I hadn’t seen anything in the shadow-man’s hands, but apparently he had been a thief as well as a murderer. Gunnar and Tory took a step forward, unsure what to do. I held up a hand. “The Accords.” I warned.
The Dragon Lord nodded. “I swear it on my power.” He answered solemnly, drawing a sudden golden dragon talon down his forearm and touching the blood to his forehead. So he really was a golden dragon. The circle of power immediately thrummed around him, and his golden claw was back to human form before I could even study it. Well, shit. He had to be telling the truth or he would have simply fallen over dead. The magic was legit; any wizard would know that.
“Then who?” I asked, furious. “Give me to him. He is mine by right.”
The Dragon Lord studied me. “Two gifts for one? That’s not fair.”
“I gave your guards a 1 lb. gold bar worth at least $17,000.”
Obsidian Son (The Temple Chronicles Book 1) Page 21