Dragon's First Rule (Dragons of Midnight Book 1)

by Silver Milan

  When he had walked fifty feet into the cave he heard a gasp behind him, and then the sound of a woman coughing in pain. Turning, he saw that she lay naked in human form on the cave floor. She was right behind him; he hadn’t realized she’d gotten so close since the last he looked. She had been stalking him, essentially. Perhaps preparing to pounce.

  A little warrior.

  Out of respect to her nakedness, he turned away from her once more.

  “What happened?” she asked from the cave floor. “It felt like a giant hand reached down inside of me and ripped me out of my animal form.”

  Without looking back, he said: “No shifter can transition in this place. It’s for our safety, and your own. You still have your strength and other innate abilities, of course.”

  “Is that what I am?” she said. “A shifter? Like a werewolf? I mean, I’ve read about them in books, seen them in movies, but never thought they were real.”

  It disturbed him that she didn’t know what she was. It implied she had been turned against her will. Was that why the prides had chased her? To protect the secret of what they’d done?

  “Did you hear me?” the woman pressed.

  Her voice snapped him out of the growing rage that had been building inside him.

  “Shifters are real, yes,” Jett said. He resisted the urge to glance at her. “Many hide among humankind. Wolves. Bears. Lions.”

  “How many are we talking?” she said. “Hundreds?”

  “Tens of thousands,” Jett said.

  “Tens of thousands?” she said. “A week ago, I would’ve laughed at you. Not anymore. But if there are so many, how come no one knows about them? Something should’ve gotten out by now. Especially if they’ve lived among us for any length of time.”

  “The witches,” Jett said, as if that explained everything.

  “Witches…”

  “Yes,” Jett said. “They wipe minds.” With my consent.

  “Uh huh,” she said, not sure what to believe. “Seems to me, given the billions of minds on this planet, that would be a tad tricky.”

  “Surprisingly not,” Jett said. “Humans are a talkative bunch, and can’t keep a secret. Every few months, a reporter digs around, drawing attention to him or herself. Or he lets his or her colleagues know that they’ve come across something big. The witches have friends in the NSA and tap in to the same programs the agency uses to monitor communications. Whenever some reporter plans to peel back the lid on shifter society and publish an exposé, the witches invariably find out and track him down.”

  “What if someone posts a video of a shifter on Youtube?” she asked. “Without telling anyone first?”

  “Shifters are careful not to draw attention to themselves in the cities,” Jett said. “But sometimes it’s inevitable that one of them will be caught on camera. That’s when the witches send their PR machines into overdrive. They own news media sites, which they use to debunk any posted footage. Sometimes they can get videos pulled down before the footage spreads virally. But if not, they simply blame any videos on Photoshop and other editing programs. They’ll hunt down eyewitnesses, wipe their memories before they can make any appearances on the news.” And Jett’s people would aid those witches. But he wasn’t sure she was ready to know all about that, not yet.

  “Sounds like a busy job,” she said.

  “Oh it is,” Jett said. “Are you ready to proceed, or do you want to sit in this cave discussing shifters all day?”

  “Wait, how exactly are you keeping me from changing?” the woman said. “Can this be made permanent?”

  “It’s part of the Weave our own witch has put into place,” Jett said. “And no, it can’t be made permanent. Once you leave our borders, your shifting abilities will return.”

  “Too bad,” she said. “And I actually have no idea what you’re talking about when you say ‘Weave.’ I’m guessing that’s like a spell or something? Since you mentioned a witch…”

  Jett ignored the question, starting forward.

  “You’re not going to tell me?” she said. It sounded like she had clambered to her feet behind him. She was growing comfortable with being naked in his presence. Trusting that he wouldn’t ravish her with his eyes. Good.

  “I will,” Jett said. “Eventually. Let’s go.”

  “Actually, no,” the woman said. “I think I’m going to turn back here. It was nice meeting you.”

  “You have nowhere to go,” Jett said. “You can’t descend, not with those lions out there. And you can’t scale the mountain further, unless you want to risk falling to your death. Besides, I won’t let you go. Don’t you feel it? The compulsion prevents you.”

  He heard her gasping for breath behind him as she struggled against his invisible will.

  “What did you do to me?” she said.

  “Something I won’t undo until you’re safely inside,” he said. “But even if I did, you still couldn’t go. Guards, reveal yourselves.”

  He turned around to face her, and she hunkered down to cover her nakedness.

  But it wasn’t her he was looking at. Two of his guards stepped inside from the distant entrance; earlier they had hidden outside near the cave mouth at his request. They were big men like him, wearing camos patterned in forest digital; assault rifles hung from their shoulders, but the weapons were currently pointed downward.

  The woman stared at them. “Even your guards are gorgeous. I have to admit, I’ve always had a thing for men in uniform. Not sure I’m a big fan of the rifles, though.” She glanced his way. “So I’m being taken prisoner by muscular fashion models, is that it?”

  “You’re not a prisoner,” Jett said. “But a guest. And we’re not fashion models.”

  “No,” she muttered. “You’re all much too pretty for that.”

  Seeing the sentries staring at her naked, crunched form filled Jett with a strange possessiveness. No one should be allowed to see her like this except him. He gestured angrily at the guards. “Return to your stations outside.”

  The pair promptly retreated past the cave mouth.

  Jett gave the woman his back. “Here, take my shirt.”

  He opened his buttons and removed the garment, then held it behind him without looking.

  “Oh, you’re so very chivalrous,” she said, the sarcasm obvious in her tone.

  “I know,” he replied.

  He felt the shirt leave his grasp. He waited a moments and then swiveled around.

  “Hey!” She spun so that her back was to him. She’d donned the shirt, but apparently wasn’t finished closing the buttons.

  The black and gold dress shirt easily trailed over her hips and covered her buttocks, hiding the nakedness of her upper body. But it could not hide those long, lithe legs. He felt aroused just looking at them.

  He returned his eyes to her clothed upper body as she swiveled to gaze up at him. She seemed shy at first, but then tried to hide her nervousness with a mask of indifference. He saw right through it of course. Women often behaved this way when he removed his shirt.

  Her eyes abruptly dropped to his chiseled chest, and then to his abdomen, admiring his abs no doubt.

  He liked that—being admired. He put a decent amount of work into his physique—just because he was a dragon didn’t mean his muscular body came easy. Sure, genetics helped, but hard work gave him the chiseled frame he had today.

  “I’m Jeddah,” he said. “Jeddah Flavius. You can call me Jett.”

  “So we’re making introductions now, are we?” she said.

  “It seemed like a good enough time as any,” Jett said.

  “Jeddah Flavius?” she said. “Sounds vaguely Italian. The Flavius part, anyway.”

  “And you are?” he pressed.

  She paused, and her eyes darted away as she said: “Vivian.”

  “I would appreciate your real name,” Jett said.

  She smiled sadly. “You see everything with those damn golden eyes of yours, don’t you?”

  He merely shru
gged.

  “Why do you care so much about the names of your prisoners?” she said.

  “Not a prisoner,” Jett said. “A guest. We’ve been through this.”

  “Yes, a guest who’s just not allowed to leave,” she said. “That’s the definition of a prisoner.”

  “I never said you wouldn’t be allowed to leave,” Jett said.

  “And you never said I would,” she retorted.

  He had to nod at that. “If nothing else, you are attentive.”

  “Yes, I was always an A student in school,” she said, once more the sarcasm dripping thickly.

  “You will be allowed to leave,” he said. “Probably.”

  “Probably?” she said. “If you’d told me ‘definitely’ then I’d give you my name. But probably? You don’t deserve to know.”

  “There are many things I don’t deserve.” Jett stared at her intently. “But your name is not one of them. Don’t deny me this small gift.”

  She seemed confused. “My name is a gift?”

  “To me it is,” Jett said.

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure if you’re charming or just a very good liar. If you really want to know my name, why don’t you just use that mind trick of yours to get it?”

  He merely looked at her, saying nothing.

  She sighed. “Fine. What the hell. I’m Ariel.”

  “Pleasure to make the acquaintance, Ariel,” Jett said, extending a hand.

  She glanced at his hand, reluctant to shake it. Finally, her fingers wrapped around his and their palms touched.

  Several moments passed, and Jett found himself reluctant to break the handshake. It felt right somehow, to have her hand in his. What he was feeling now was forbidden. And yet, perhaps that was half the allure.

  “Um,” she said. “This is getting creepy.”

  Despite her words, her eyes shone with a strange light—want, he was sure of it—and she seemed just as unwilling to break the grip as he did. Her behavior had nothing to do with the compulsion he’d laid upon her earlier… those feelings were all her own. The notion only made him feel all the more enamored of her.

  I can’t allow myself to have these desires.

  Jett released her and proceeded deeper into the cave. Ariel followed close beside him.

  “What just happened there?” Ariel asked.

  “We shook hands,” he said. “Don’t they do that in the outside world anymore?”

  “You make it sound like you haven’t been out there in a while,” Ariel said.

  “I haven’t,” Jett said.

  “I find it hard to believe you’re a caveman,” she said. “Dressed like that.”

  “I never said I was a caveman,” he told her.

  “You didn’t have to,” she said. “It’s fairly obvious to me. You’re a caveman. With two bodyguards in front of your cave. And a computer system running your lights.”

  Once again he found himself bothered by her naiveté. She had no idea where she was. The lions definitely had to have turned her against her will. And if that was true, they would be punished. He would see to it himself.

  He resolved to get to the bottom of it as soon he had her safe and secure in his den.

  The two continued deeper into the cave, traveling in silence.

  “So you can see in the dark?” Ariel asked, breaking the quietude. “I mean, there are lights now, but before you turned them on I didn’t see you coming to the entrance. Unless you were hiding behind a rock or something in the cave, waiting for me.”

  “Yes, I can see in the dark,” he said. “The overhead lights of the entrance tunnels are for guests. Though maybe they’re not really necessary for you: lions have some night vision of their own. That said, Midnight is fairly well-lit, for a subterranean city.”

  “Midnight?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Jett replied. “We’re almost there.”

  “Did you just say, ‘a subterranean city?’” she said. “I’m supposed to believe you’ve built a city underneath a mountain?”

  “I didn’t do it alone,” he said. “I had a lot of help. And I mean, a lot.”

  “How much does something like that cost?” she asked.

  “You don’t want to know,” he replied.

  “So you’re rich, too,” she said, shaking her head.

  “All of us are,” Jett told her. He beckoned toward the passage ahead, where a soft glow came from beyond an opening. “We’ve arrived.”

  3

  Ariel stepped through the opening and stood on a ledge overlooking an enormous subterranean cavern hollowed into the mountain.

  She had been expecting something creepy, but instead what she saw was beautiful. Below squatted hundreds of sprawling, fenced-off estates. Within each of them were mansions sided in precious metals or gems. The siding was all of one type: either gold, silver, or gems running the gamut from diamonds to emeralds.

  Multitudes of LEDs embedded in the cavern ceiling provided dim illumination, approximating the light levels of twilight. But even that relative dimness was enough to set many of those gems sparkling below.

  Two guards lurked just inside the entrance on either side of her. Unlike the previous pair, these two didn’t seem armed in any way. They were dressed differently as well, wearing black fatigues, like the kind she would’ve expected black ops men to own. They also wore headsets composed of tiny earpieces and mics that extended in front of their lips. And while they were just as beautiful as the others, they were extremely pale. She supposed that was what happened when you stayed inside a cave all day.

  She met the eyes of one of them and the man grinned to reveal two long fangs.

  Ariel involuntarily stepped back. There was the creepiness she was expecting.

  Jett laid a protective hand across her chest and addressed the men. “This woman is not to be touched. Spread the word among the White Swords and Black Guard.”

  The men bowed.

  “It will be done,” one of them said. He continued to eye Ariel hungrily as he spoke quietly into the mic of his headset.

  Jett started down the long winding trail that led into the valley and the mansions it contained.

  Ariel hurried after him, not wanting to be left near those two.

  “Were those… vampires?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Jett said. “We captured many slaves in the last war, including a sizable number of vampires. They make excellent guards, and are good at performing the hard labor necessary to maintain our city. Though keeping them fed has proven challenging at times.”

  “Slaves,” Ariel said. “That seems wrong. Even if they are vampires.”

  “Then don’t think of them as slaves,” Jett said. “But rather prisoners of war who serve us on a contract basis. When their contracts expire, we release them.”

  “I see.” She shook her head. “You know, a week ago I would’ve never believed any of this. But now anything goes. I guess your world view kind of goes through a seismic shift when you can turn into a lioness at the drop of a hat. What about the two hidden outside the main entrance? Vampires, as well? They’re kind of tanned, though, and missing the headsets and all.”

  “Those two?” Jett said. “Members of my kind. Not vampires. Vampires don’t make good surface sentries as they have what you’d call sensitive skin. The melting-away-when-exposed-to-the-sun variety.”

  “I see,” Ariel said. “What about the headsets?”

  “You’re a curious one, aren’t you?” Jett said. “The two at the main entrance were in fact wearing headsets, you just didn’t notice. You were probably distracted by the assault rifles they carried.”

  “Probably,” Ariel admitted.

  “The headsets are for communication with other surface teams distributed in front of different exits. Their signals don’t pass through the thick mountain, so if the teams need to call for reinforcements, they use the equivalent of land lines.”

  “So you’re saying if I had a cellphone, I wouldn’t be able to get a signal
in here?” Ariel asked him, somewhat sarcastically.

  “Good guess,” Jett replied.

  She walked quietly for a few moments, following him down the winding path toward the city.

  “What was that you said about your kind?” Ariel asked.

  He shook his head as if not understanding the question.

  “You called those two men ‘members of my kind,’” Ariel said.

  “And indeed, they are,” he replied cryptically.

  “You mean humans?” she pressed.

  Jett shrugged.

  Ariel shook her head and continued walking. Human. She was only half human, now. It was a troubling thought. All she wanted was for things to go back to the way they were before. To go back to her life and her friends. But she never could, not anymore. There was nothing for her out there. Nothing but a life spent on the run, hunted by lions. A life that would require her to stay forever away from human settlements and cities for fear she might attack and kill someone.

  So she might as well follow Hottie McHotness into the depths of the mountain and into this strange city. Whatever awaited her here couldn’t be much worse than the ruined life she’d left behind. Not that she could disobey even if she wanted to, not with the spell he’d used on her, whatever it was. Maybe it wasn’t even a spell: he could’ve slipped something into the slab of meat he’d fed her.

  Either way, she could feel the tightness of compulsion around her body even now, squeezing subtly around her core. If she tried to disobey and turn back, the invisible vise would tighten until she found it hard to breathe. If she continued to resist beyond that point, she had no doubt she would fall unconscious, perhaps die.

  Curiosity compelled her forward as much as any compulsion, though. An entire city hidden under a mountain in the middle of the country? A city not shown on any known maps? Of course she had to visit it, if only once.

  Her eyes had finished adjusting to the dimmer light in the central cavern, and with her enhanced vision the illumination was basically the equivalent of daylight.

  She gazed at those overhead lights, which now seemed so bright to her.

  “Where do you get the power for all of this?” she asked. “Unless you managed to convince the local utility company to hook you up.”