by Liliana Hart
My rage was to the boiling point, and I hated feeling cornered. Eunice had voiced aloud what I’d refused to admit to myself. There was a part of me that envied the humans and their lives of complete ignorance. I envied their capability for love and their desire to care for others. I wanted those things. I was torn between two worlds, trying to ride the fence and get the best out of both of them. Instead, I was living a half-truth. I loved what my Drakán powers brought me, but I was scared of losing my human self completely to the dragon, so I held back. I didn’t want to be like Alasdair.
“To feel greatness, you have to achieve greatness,” she said. “You have many fears inside of you. Fear is an emotion almost unknown to our kind. But you hold it. And you nurture it.”
“You’re forgetting about my human blood again. I can’t just cut those emotions off completely. Julian said I needed to open my senses, to feed on the anger of my dragon, to use my full powers.”
“He’s right. Our senses are a large part of our powers. But unfortunately genetics play just as big a part. Your blood is more than you think, and you come from the line of a great warrior. The power is in you if you wish it to be.”
I knew a gift of good genetics did make a difference. I thought of Erik and what it must feel like to live forever and have nothing. To watch others grow and do amazing things and have to stand by and be an observer.
“There are many others like your brother,” Eunice said. “There are so many of our people who are nothing more than long-lived humans. And often they choose to live the life span of a mortal. The powerless lead a solitary existence because Drakán are drawn to power. Many cause their own deaths to keep from having to live an eternity alone. But you are different. Your power is inside you, lying dormant and waiting for you to release it.”
“I don’t know how,” I confessed. The breakfast I’d eaten was like lead in my stomach.
“But you do know how. Can you not visualize yourself as a dragon? Can you not feel the pull and tug of her wanting to escape your fragile shell?”
Of course I could feel her. She’d been a part of me my entire life.
“Our powers are very basic, fed by heat and fire,” Eunice said. “What color is your dragon?”
I didn’t know. Whenever my dragon nudged me too hard, whenever our thoughts were too aligned, I always did my best to push her away—to reject that part of me. I refused to see her. Dragon color was hereditary. My father was red—a red so dark it was almost black, and the members of our clan who could transform were all shades of the color.
I very tentatively called to my dragon. She was already close because she’d felt my turmoil, and I shivered as she rubbed against the inside of my skin. For the first time I looked at her clearly. She shimmered silver, almost the exact shade of my eyes, and I gasped in surprise. She was beautiful, and tears sprang to my eyes.
“Very good, my dear. You’re a fast learner.”
“What?” I asked, opening my eyes in confusion.
She nodded toward me and I looked down. My neck and chest were covered in silvery scales, iridescent in the light. I lifted my shirt and saw my stomach was the same. But I wasn’t fully transformed—my legs and hands were normal. I started to panic, and the flesh of my human body came back into sight.
“Why am I silver? This can’t be right.” Horror pierced my chest as scenarios went through my mind. Was it possible Alasdair wasn’t really my father after all? No wonder he hated me. Did I belong to anyone? There were no silver dragons in any clans that I knew of.
“You are exactly as you are supposed to be,” Eunice soothed. “And Alasdair is your father. But you know as well as I do that genetics are a fickle thing. Sometimes they dredge up the unexpected.”
“I don’t think I want this,” I said.
“You will. It’s really very simple,” Eunice assured me. “If you can close your eyes and see your true self, then the change will happen. You must embrace it, Rena. Don’t turn your back on what you are. You need to practice transforming, and when you’re comfortable I’ll teach you how to fly.”
I wasn’t anywhere near ready to take that step. As much as I hated to fly in airplanes, I couldn’t imagine flying without one. But I was curious enough about the change that I’d try to transform again once I got back to my room. Maybe I’d just imagined the color of my scales. I prayed to the gods that Alasdair never saw the true color of my dragon form, because he’d kill me on sight.
Chapter Fifteen
I searched through the clothes Julian had stocked in the wardrobe for something appropriate to wear to the sfara. There wasn’t a damned thing in any color but black, not that I expected there to be. I knew without looking there wasn’t anything in the suitcases I’d brought. I hadn’t planned on attending any formal events while searching for the Destroyer.
My choice of clothing would be important. I had to dress to impress Julian—to impress his people—but at the same time I needed something functional and easy to maneuver in if things became violent.
I paced restlessly around the confines of my room and watched the minutes tick by on the clock. I still had three hours before the sfara began, and I was sick of my own company. I had to get out of this place. I was under the impression Julian wanted me to think I was a guest. That I was welcome to come and go as I pleased. But in reality I knew that was an illusion. I’d have to find a way out on my own.
I’d never doubted my compulsion ability before, but Julian and Xana had certainly made me a little self-conscious. I didn’t bother to try to sneak out of the chateau. In my experience, people were more likely to question you if you looked guilty. I grabbed a light jacket and closed the door to my room behind me. I headed down the stairs as if I owned the place.
There were two guards at the front door, both Drakán and both with average powers. I could have taken them, but I didn’t want to if I could help it. Security cameras sat unobtrusively in each corner of the foyer. I turned in the opposite direction and headed toward the back of the house. I figured going through the back garden and over the fence was my best bet for escape.
I hadn’t taken the time to explore the chateau during my short stay, so my knowledge of the floor plan was minimal. I finally came to a small room, something similar to a den, with plush leather couches and a large-screen TV that took up almost an entire wall. It was all black of course, but it also had a set of French doors that led out into the garden. Perfect.
The rain had stopped and the sun was finally peeking out from the clouds. I reached the French doors and had my hand on the silver handle when I felt an ominous presence behind me. One I wasn’t familiar with. I whirled around and ducked low into a fighting stance. I swept my leg out and hit what felt like a block of cement. Something cracked in my ankle, but I ignored the pain. The man didn’t fall flat on his back as I had planned. I hadn’t budged him an inch.
I moved to attack again, but he held up his hands to stop me and backed out of reach.
“You shouldn’t sneak up behind me if you want to live,” I said. I finally looked him over from head to toe. He was intimidating—the size of a small tree and bald as a billiard ball. The dragon tattoo on his skull moved when his facial expressions changed, making it look alive.
“I am Olaf,” he said.
“Of course you are. Why were you sneaking up on me, Olaf?”
“I was not. I swear on my oath to my master. I was sent to give you a message.”
“Let’s hear it.”
I put a few more steps between us just in case, but never took my eyes off his. I didn’t trust Olaf.
“Julian wanted me to remind you that he prefers you stay on the grounds. He says it isn’t safe for you to wander about the city until he has introduced you at the party tonight. There are still many of our people who do not know of your arrival.”
“Sure, no problem.” I waited until Olaf left the room, and then escaped out the French doors.
The wind cut through me like a knife, and I wished I�
�d worn a heavier jacket. The gardens were massive and lush with winter greenery. A bricked path snaked throughout, and I followed it until I came to the last row of hedges. The stone fence that surrounded the chateau was probably twelve feet high, and it was hard to ignore the cameras perched in various locations. At least there was no barbed wire. That was always a pain in the ass.
I took a running start and felt the muscles in my legs stretch as I pushed off the ground and jumped straight over the obstacle. I couldn’t help but give the cameras a little finger wave as I landed on the other side.
Freedom had never felt so good.
I started up the street at a jog, intending to catch a cab into the city, but as I got to the corner a car I’d never seen before screeched to a stop inches from me. Like everything of Julian’s it was black and sexy as hell.
But it wasn’t Julian who rolled down the passenger side window. “You don’t think I’d let you go shopping without me, do you?”
I sighed in irritation. Of course Eunice would know exactly what my plans were. I opened the door and slid across the buttery leather seat.
“What kind of car is this?” I asked.
“A Bugatti Veyron. And there’s not another one like it in the entire world.”
“That figures. I wouldn’t expect Julian to be like anyone else.”
She smiled and said, “Come, one of our clan members owns an exclusive shop close by. I know he has something that will render Julian speechless.”
“Well, that would certainly be a nice change.”
I held on to the door handle as she pushed her tiny foot to the floor. The car took off with a squeal, and the scent of burnt rubber permeated the air. I prayed to the gods the people of Belgium had enough sense to stay out of her way. She weaved through traffic like a maniac, and when the street became too congested, she moved to the sidewalk. If Cal thought my driving was bad, he’d better hope he never had the chance to ride in a car with Eunice.
I added this car ride to my list of things I hated, right under flying and Julian.
She screeched to a stop in front of a small store on Avenue Louise—a long street filled with exclusive shops in the middle of Brussels. My body slammed against the seatbelt and then back into the seat again.
“I’m going to have to get one of these someday. There’s nothing like it. I’ll let you drive on the way home if you’d like.”
“Thank gods,” I muttered under my breath.
“Let’s get you something to wear and get back. Julian doesn’t want you out of his sight for long.”
I decided right then I was going to take my sweet time. Julian be damned. The dress shop was squeezed between a pâtisserie and a store that made handmade leather items. Discreet gold lettering on the front window labeled the store in Bulgarian as бърлогата—The Lair. Cute.
And in the front window was the exact dress I wanted. I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.
“I knew it would be perfect for you,” Eunice said. “Let’s go in. I want you to meet Luuk and his family.”
I felt terribly underdressed in my jeans and T-shirt once we walked through the front doors of the sophisticated dress shop. I’d been to Versace in Rome and Chanel in Paris, and neither of those stores held a candle to this one. And neither did their clothes. Whoever designed these was a true artisan.
“Out! Get out of my shop,” an angry voice screamed in French before my eyes could locate where it was coming from.
A mountain of a man, probably a full foot taller than me, whirled like a tornado to the front of the shop to keep me from progressing any farther. His dark hair was slicked back from a high forehead, and square glasses framed menacing black eyes rimmed with red fire. His slacks were grey silk and fit perfectly, and his white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the throat and rolled up to the elbows. He had a tape measure draped across his shoulders and a pencil stuck behind one ear.
“I could smell your peasant stench a block away, Dragon. You are not welcome here.”
He pushed at me with his power, and I absorbed it, rolling the intricacies of his magic through my body like an undulating wave. My dragon turned her back on his scent. He wasn’t the dragon she wanted.
The man I assumed was Luuk grabbed my arm, and I let my power unleash. I hit him with a wall of psychic power that made him gasp and brought him to his knees.
“Don’t touch me,” I said, no louder than a whisper. Luuk dropped his hand away from my arm obediently and stayed in a submissive position on the ground.
“Now, Luuk,” Eunice said, coming around from behind me. “You know better than to touch a strange dragon. Someday you’ll let your brain make decisions rather than your temper.”
“I apologize, Eunice.” Luuk glanced at Eunice, and I felt the relief move through him at the sight of her. “I will take responsibility for my mistake, but I ask that you spare my daughter. She is in the sewing room today.”
I opened my mouth to assure him that he’d done nothing wrong, but Eunice touched my hand slightly and I let her handle it.
Eunice moved with the startling speed of an Ancient. She grabbed Luuk by the throat and raised him above her head so she had to look up to see his eyes. Luuk’s skin mottled and flames danced in his eyes. I could smell the sulfur of his fire as he fought to control it. Fighting Eunice was futile, and he knew it. She was much too strong.
“You have done Julian’s honored guest a great disservice.” Her voice wasn’t full of rage like I expected it to be. It was the same smooth croon that she’d used when she’d first greeted me earlier that morning. My dragon responded to its power and nudged impatiently against me.
“She is welcome in our lands, and you will treat her as you would treat your master. Have I made myself clear?”
Luuk nodded since he was unable to speak, and Eunice released her hold on him. He fell to the ground and composed himself before he stood to face me again. He made eye contact, which surprised me, and it was obvious by his smoldering eyes that he was less than happy at having to follow her orders.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I’ll take the dress in the window.” I took a step forward, and found satisfaction as he stepped back. I had to show my dominance now, or he would test me every time we ran across one another. “And you’ll answer my questions.”
He nodded and went to retrieve the dress for me. Eunice was on the other side of the shop, looking at a black dress that would barely cover the pertinent parts of her body. I knew she would be able to hear the questions I asked, but I didn’t have much choice in having an audience.
“Do you know what I am, Luuk?” I asked.
“You are of Alasdair’s clan.”
“Yes, but I am also an Enforcer. The Enforcer.” He paled at the title, and I moved closer to him, circling him like prey. “Drakán law states you must answer my questions under penalty of death.”
He swallowed and nodded as he carefully took the dress and laid it out on black-and-white striped tissue paper.
“Have you heard of the Drakán who have gone missing?”
His hands faltered as he folded the tissue over and moved the dress to a long white box. “Yes, my cousin is one of those who are missing. He’s been gone almost two weeks.”
“Do you know how he disappeared? How it happened?”
“All I know is that we went hunting one night, twelve of us from my family. There was a great pop in the sky, and Eliyan disappeared in front of our eyes. There was nothing left of him. No sign he’d ever been there at all. All his belongings were still at the house, and there was nothing we could do except put the problem in Julian’s hands. He promised he would find him, and I know he will. Julian always keeps his word.”
Luuk’s faith in Julian was absolute. There was no doubt in his mind that Julian wouldn’t do what he’d promised.
“Do you know of any others?” I asked.
He put the lid on the white box and wrapped black ribbon around the corners. He stuck a car
d with the name of the shop in bold letters under the ribbon.
“I’ve heard rumors that the ashes of many Drakán have been found. More of my clansmen, and a few of the Russians and Irish. It’s strange I haven’t heard of any American Drakán who have disappeared. Maybe you should be asking your own clansmen these questions, yes?”
I let the insult pass as he wrote the amount I owed for the dress on a ticket and pushed it across the counter at me. The price was outrageous. Probably ten times the amount of its actual cost. But a dragon was never one to let such a one-of-a-kind item pass by. I pulled out my credit card and had just handed it over when Eunice snatched it from his fingers.
“Luuk,” she said, her voice filled with warning. “You will be properly compensated for your cooperation. She is the mate of your Archos, and this is your gift to welcome her to your clan. Tell our people of this news, and make sure they welcome her warmly tonight at the sfara.”
Luuk’s mouth dropped open in surprise at the exact moment mine did. I started to stutter a protest, but she grabbed the box and my elbow and ushered me out the door. I was still speechless as she shoved me back into the front seat of the Bugati Veyron, peeled out with a U-turn in the middle of the street, and scared the hell out of a bunch of tourists on our way back through the city.
Chapter Sixteen
The dress on the mannequin in the window looked vastly different than it did on me as I stood in front of a floor-length mirror and cringed at the sight of exposed flesh. I wasn’t an exhibitionist on my best day. I’d never really been comfortable in my own skin like others of our race. And this dress definitely qualified me for exhibitionist status. The only good thing about it was there wasn’t a lot of extra material to get in my way if there was a fight.