by Leela Ash
Yet another natural urge he couldn’t give into.
On and on the cleansing went, until his chest burned. The bowl’s clear waters grew foul, a thick, oily mass of pestilence.
Finally, when the touch of Tess’ peril had driven him half mad, Amarie leaned back and set her quill down beside the polluted bowl.
“Is it done?” Darian didn’t feel any different. Well, his pecs felt like someone had scrubbed them with poison ivy. Yet his Dragon remained silent, absent. How could that be? How could it not rage or rejoice?
“Almost.” She picked up the clinking bag and opened its drawstrings.
He tensed. “So it’s bad?”
“Hmm? Oh, no!” Six vials of dark inks slid out onto the desk. “I don’t need to repair your link to your Dragon. Thank goodness! Not sure these old eyes are up to that task.” From inside the bag, she plucked one last bottle, a heart-shaped flask filled with some pale golden liquid. Motes of light danced within it like tiny stars. Amarie produced a silken handkerchief from her pocket and poured the liquid onto it. “Just one last bit of purification, and you’re done!”
Relief washed over him. Until the Witch Hare paused, her hand hovering over his chest. “This will hurt,” she warned him.
And she didn’t lie.
When the cloth touched his skin, agony ripped through him, as if the little scrap was soaked in acid. Fire blazed across his chest, tore deep into his muscles, setting every nerve alight.
Darian tilted his head back and smiled. There was something clean about that pain, as if it burned away all the mistakes he’d made. He embraced that penance, let its agonizing purity wash over him.
Then it passed, as quickly and silently as it had come.
“Done?”
Amarie nodded. He rose immediately, snatching his shirt up from the bed. Some part of his mind noticed that the old woman didn’t smile. She simply leaned back in her chair, folded her hands in her laps, and watched him warily.
He didn’t have time to wonder why, or to puzzle over his Dragon’s odd silence. Tess had lingered in the Fangs’ clutches for far too long already. Striding toward the door, he called over his shoulder, “Tell Ethan I’ll be…”
That was when his Dragon pounced.
Like a hawk swooping down on an unsuspecting mouse, rage slammed through him.
YOU!
Infinite fury and reproach thundered in that one tiny word. Darian’s knees buckled, he crumbled to the floor as the full weight of his Dragon’s disdain came crashing down upon him. Dimly, he saw Amarie watching him, cool and dispassionate. But there was nothing she could do to shield him from the righteous anger of his Dragon.
YOU HAVE SHAMED US! YOU ABANDONNED OUR DUTIES, OUR FLIGHT!
He gave no reply because he had no answer. It was right. All of his ‘reasons’, his excuses, wilted in front of that burning fury. He gasped, drawing deep, ragged breaths as a tight band, like the implacable grip of a Dragon’s talons, closed around his chest.
YOU ARE UNWORTHY! WE SHOULD REND OURSELVES APART!
To become a Worm. Was that not what he deserved for his treachery?
The spiritual claws tightened and pin-pricks of blood bloomed on his shirt as his skin began to tear under their pressure. Yet now he did argue. Not for himself.
For her.
“No. Tear me apart later.” His voice was a choked, grating whisper under that terrible pressure. “After we save Tess.”
She was all that mattered. He would face his punishment, whatever it might be. But only after he rescued her.
Like a buffet of wind from great, unseen wings, some unseen force knocked him flat. The spiritual ‘talons’ that held him dropped away and air rushed back into his bruised ribs. In their wake, Darian felt something he had lost so long ago.
Power.
Every nerve, every inch of skin tingled from it. Strength washed over him, bringing his soul alive with a furnace blast of energy. The world brightened, details sharpening into razor-like focus. Adrenaline flooded through him, and confidence. The knowledge that he could – and would – defeat any threat.
He was a Dragon again.
Darian rose to his feet, drinking in the rediscovered glory of his strength.
Behind him, Amarie cleared her throat. He turned to find her holding out his jacket. “I imagine you thought of her. Your Mate?” Without waiting for his answer, she nodded. “I thought she’d be the answer to the test.”
“This was a test?” He slipped into his coat, letting its smooth leather hide his blood-dappled shirt. “Of what?”
“Of whether or not you remembered what it meant to be a Dragon.”
As he considered that, the old woman smiled. “I expect, Mr. Morland, that if you had thought of yourself – if you had made excuses to defend your pride or begged for forgiveness – your Dragon would have destroyed you. But you didn’t, did you? You thought of her instead.”
He nodded, still slightly dazed by the world’s heightened glory.
The elderly Witch Hare patted him on the elbow. “And so you passed the test. Now go on. Go save your lady.”
Chapter 15
Locked in a back room at the Emerald Lounge, Tess fought to keep her last meal down. It wasn’t much as far as food went. A cold Happy Meal that someone had tossed onto the floor. Dick immediately turned his nose up at the limp, greasy French fries. She made herself choke it all down. You never knew when you’d need your strength, right?
Now, she regretted that decision. Bitterly.
A sense of doom and nausea had crept over her, growing stronger for the last two hours. Food poisoning? Couldn’t be, because it started almost as soon as she finished the stale Chicken McNuggets. Concussion? Maybe. Her head still throbbed from the blow that had knocked her out.
Yet inside, she couldn’t accept either of these theories. Something was desperately wrong. Whispers surrounded her, and time and again, her skin crawled as if ghosts pawed at her. Dark, destructive urges flickered through her mind. She yearned to run… to pound on the door, screaming… to kill her ex-boyfriend.
Okay, that urge was kind of understandable. Fighting her mysterious nausea, she glared at Dick. The Adanai remained untouched by whatever afflicted her. He paced endlessly, from one side of the tiny room to the other, an aggrieved pout plastered across his face.
“I can’t believe they did this to me,” he whined. For the hundredth time. “I’m on their side.”
A key rattled in the door. Dick licked his lips and backed away.
Not much warning, but Tess staggered to her feet. As soon as the door swung open, she darted through the crack.
A big, meaty arm caught her at once. “You know, I don’t want to hurt you,” Arnage, the Bear, rumbled. “But I will break yours legs if you try to run away.”
Not that he needed to threaten her. Past him, Tess saw a half dozen other men. Wiry, nasty-looking customers. One grinned at her, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.
Rats. Lots of them.
Sick as she was, Tess seriously doubted she could outrun all of them. Best to wait and watch for a better opportunity.
So she gave the Bear a lop-sided, weak smile. “Okay then. Don’t have to tell me twice. I’ll behave myself.”
“Good.” His solid, immoveable grip on her arm didn’t loosen at all. “Both of you, come with me. The Man wants to talk to you.”
‘The’ man? Like there was only one of them? She considered making a joke about that but Arnage didn’t look like he had much of a sense of humor.
Dick, of course, immediately flew into full boot-licking mode. “Wonderful! I am, obviously, deliriously happy to have an opportunity to clear up this misunderstanding.”
A snicker ran through the Rats. The Bear, on the other hand, didn’t even seem to hear. Hand clamped on Tess’ elbow, he led the two of them back out into the empty bar and over to another backroom.
Whispers swelled as she stepped into the room. Tess stumbled and only Arnage’s strong hand kept her from sprawling on her
face. The sense of danger, of unseen fingers prodding her, grew stronger.
What the hell was wrong?
The burst of nausea passed. Tess opened her eyes and found three people waiting for them.
One was the Rat-woman who’d tased her. She stood by a desk, a cardboard box beside her. The sight of that box filled Tess with foreboding. Whatever it held was dangerous.
The other two people weren’t physically present. A man and a woman stared at her from a computer screen.
Dressed in a tailored suit, he had the regal gaze and chiseled features of an aristocrat. Salt and pepper hair hinted at age, but no signs of weakness softened his hard, dangerous body. He stared at her across a desk, hands steepled in front of him.
The woman who stood behind him was downright creepy. Tall, reed-thin, with white-blonde hair that fell all the way to the floor. A simple white robe, unadorned, was all she wore. With skin pale as a vampire, the only color in her face was her strange, jarring eyes: one sapphire blue, one emerald green. Both bright and cold enough to be stones.
Seeing them, the last of Tess’ humor died. She was in deep, deep trouble.
Apparently, there was some kind of video-conferencing going on because the strangers’ eyes followed her as Arnage marched her across the room.
The Rat cleared her throat. “Master Alester, these are the two I told you about. Amatessandra, or Tess Everlyn, as she calls herself. The other is Terandicandros.”
“But you can call him ‘Dick’,” Tess inserted. “Most people do.”
No one laughed, yet that sad attempt at a joke cheered Tess. It drove the fear back, just a little bit.
“Thank you, Dorrissey,” the man said. That must be Rat-Woman’s name. “Mariset, your opinion?”
The pale woman bent forward, frowning. “I am unsure. It is difficult to sense remotely.”
The ‘Master’ seemed displeased by that. “I don’t have time for this nonsense. You two.” His piercing gaze settled on his prisoners. “Dorrissey tells me you pretend to be some strange sort of Shifter that no one’s heard of.”
“Adanai, my Lord,” Dick inserted, with a fawning bow. “Think of us as Fae, if you will.”
“Sounds like nonsense,” Alester snapped. “Dorrissey, Shift. We’ll see if they’ve got the blood or not.”
At once, the small woman’s form blurred and melted, collapsing into the greasy form of a dog-sized rat.
Everyone looked at her, as if expecting some sort of response.
Tess shrugged. “Still gross.” Dick remained diplomatically silent.
“No delusion, no delirium,” Alester muttered. “All right. You’re definitely either Shifters or Kin.”
Tall, White and Willowy’s eyes narrowed. “There is more to the woman, Master. Something is bound to her.”
Bound? Tess frowned in confusion. So did the witch’s master.
“What, precisely, is bound to her?”
“I am not sure.”
“No, of course you’re not,” he muttered. “You Witch Hares are damnable pains. You couldn’t be more vague if you tried.” The woman seemed oblivious to that insult; she wasn’t servile, even if she did call the man ‘Master’. Tess swore she could feel the Hare’s eyes, moving across her skin like worms, prying at the edges of her mind.
That sensation couldn’t be real, could it?
Though, if magic truly existed… Tess’ stomach gave another lurch.
Alester gave an exasperate sigh. “I am a busy man. I don’t have time to let you figure this out. Dorrissey.” The Rat ducked her head, submissive. “Take them to Dr. Rawls. Tell him to interrogate them, dissect them, and send me the report on what they are.”
Di… Wait. What? Tess blinked in horror. What the hell kind of person ‘dissected’ people he found strange?!?
She was starting to understand why Darian fought so hard to hide his son from these Fangs of Apophis. Once again, Tess felt a pang for the way she’d left him. What she wouldn’t give to have her Mate at her side.
Dick, meanwhile, gave a very undignified squawk. “My Lord, my Lord, please! There’s no need for that, surely! I’m happy to cooperate, even if Amatessandra isn’t. And I assure you that I’m far more useful to you alive than dead.”
“I’m sure you think you are,” the aristocrat replied coldly. “Though I don’t agree with your assessment.”
Tess said nothing. Her nausea hadn’t disappeared, but she was getting used to it. The cold, uncaring lines of Alester’s face left her no hope of convincing him to spare her. Better to wait, and hope for an opening to escape.
But Dick the Ever-Idiotic was positive he could talk his way out of anything. “Please, I beg you, listen to what I have to offer. Surely, you wish to know why the Wellsprings, the portals to the Other Side, closed?”
Alester radiated complete disinterest. “Dorrissey told me about your claim. Vaguely interesting, I admit. Such knowledge is completely impractical, however.”
“Not at all!” Tess winced at Dick’s manic smile, the hint of hysteria that threaded its way into his voice. “Such knowledge might allow you to reverse the process. To open Wellsprings of your own.”
“Maybe,” Alester admitted. “Probably not, though. The doctor will sort it all out.”
“But…”
“Give it a rest, Dick,” Tess said wearily. Dammit, that scrawny Hare would not stop staring at her. She was beginning to think that Dr. Rawls and his ‘dissection’ wouldn’t be half as bad as staying here, under those creepy eyes.
“I will not!” The Adanai’s voice rose higher, skating perilously close to a screech. “There’s more! I swear! Let me live and I can tell you how to make weapons that will kill a Dragon.”
The effect of his words was electric. Everyone, both here and on the computer, straightened, their eyes widening. Even Tess was shocked. How the hell could Dick know that?
“You have my attention,” Alester said. “Continue.”
“First, give me your word that you’ll spare me. Your servant,” Dick spat the word and glowered at the Rat, “lied to me, but I will trust you, of course. Dissect Amatessandra if you will, but let me live and serve you.”
A guffaw escaped Tess before she could stop it. “Wow, Dick. Now I remember why I dumped you.”
Yet his offer fell on fertile soil. “Very well. You have my word. So where do I find these magical weapons?”
“Inside her.” To Tess’ startlement, Dick pointed at her. “I am a mere harpist, a commoner. She, however, is a princess of our kind.”
With a start, Tess recalled that memory stone, the one with the ‘Disney’ pictures. Apparently, that really was her and Dick.
“Her people were Dragon slayers. Somewhere, perhaps deep inside, she recalls how they enchanted spears and arrows that would slice through a Dragon’s scales.”
Skepticism clouded Alester’s finely chiseled face as he turned to stare at her. “Is this true?”
“Nope.”
Dick was prepared for that. As a frown darkened Alester’s face, he smoothly inserted, “Ah, but that’s the crux of the problem, you see. We Adanai can store our memories in stones. The fact that Amatessandra doesn’t currently remember this lore means nothing.”
“Master.” Once more, the thin Rat inclined her head toward the computer. With downcast eyes, she continued, “I must acknowledge that – upon this creature’s advice – I explored the woman’s home.”
They ransacked her shack? Tess bridled at the thought. Dammit, her lawn chair was probably shredded. She’d been growing fond of the awful thing.
“We found a dozen odd stones which may validate his story.”
“You have them?” Alester asked.
“Yes. Here.” The Rat patted the cardboard box on the table. At that touch, a shiver passed down Tess’ spine, as if someone had stepped on her grave.
Her stones? Here? Was that why she heard whispers and felt as if unclean hands brushed against her? She fought to keep fury and disgust off her face, but di
dn’t fully succeed.
Bad to worse. Even if she could escape ‘dissection’, how could she steal her soul back from these monsters?
Alester grew more pensive. “Mariset, can you confirm that these stones are in fact powerful?”
One thin, pale eyebrow arched. Though, to Tess’ discomfort, the witch wasn’t looking at the box. Her gaze still remained fixed on her. “Yes, they’re magical. And I can confirm that there truly is a living Wellspring in this world.”
Ice poured down Tess’ back at that pronouncement. Could the Witch Hare read minds? Had she accidentally betrayed Darian?
Even Alester looked shocked by this new development. “Explain yourself.”
A dark eagerness stirred in the Hare’s face. “Because I now understand what is bound to this Amatessandra: a Shifter’s soul. She’s the Mate of a Dragon. And Dragons cannot find their soul-mates without a Wellspring.”
Everyone, from Rat to Worm, gaped at her in shock and fear. Dick, however, curled his lip in disgust. “Have you fallen so low, my princess, to join yourself to one of the lesser kind?”
That was the final straw. Tess’ irritation bubbled over, and her sharp tongue finally came unbound. “Okay, you got me there. Yes, Lady Icicle is right: I’ve got a really big boyfriend. So let’s make a deal. You losers let me go and I’ll ask him not to kick all your asses. No promises. But hey, I’ll ask.”
It was a joke, really.
But no one laughed.
Alester rose from his desk and began to pace. The Shifters in the room with her paled. Hell, the Bear even broke into a sweat.
“Why isn’t the Dragon there already?” Alester muttered.
Why would he be? The question made no sense to Tess. Darian had no way to know where she was.
Or did he? Crazy as it sounded, everyone clearly expected her Mate to come bursting through the door at any second.
Hope flooded through her, shockingly intense. Tess was used to taking care of herself. But damn, she was in it deep right now! She needed a hand. A big hand. Preferably one with claws. Behind that joy, however, lurked something deeper. Something vulnerable, something she found hard to accept in herself.