by Katya Moore
And this was the payoff. A world of pain, and a dank, dark, stone-floored prison. At least, I assumed it was a prison. I couldn’t bring myself to sit up and investigate just yet, so I tried swiveling my head to look.
Bars surrounded me. On the stone of the floor, I could see carved runes, coiled and serpentine like the Chosen themselves. Probably to keep me from shifting. Cass’d know. The nerd.
But yeah, it was a prison.
I could hear slithering and footsteps approaching. My pride decided to speak up. Lying here like a half-dead lump would give them far too much satisfaction. I drew in a deep breath and stifled a cry as I hauled myself up to a seated position. All of the muscles in my abdomen and back screamed at me. I could feel deep bruises penetrating the muscle, along with a few deep gouges from the sorcerers’ blades and claws. I had to look like shit. I ran a hand over my hair. It was sticky with blood and spiked out a million different ways. Fuck. Good thing Sia wasn’t here to laugh at that. Not that she would. She’d probably try to fix it, telling me how brave I was and what a poor baby I was.
And I hated myself for wanting her to.
Dario must be thrilled though. Now was his chance. With me out of the way, he was the lone water dragon in her life. With his sleazy charm and his good looks and his renowned prowess with the ladies… my stomach lurched. No. No one deserved that. And after what he’d done to Lydia, that poor innocent girl I’d made the mistake of falling for in high school, when he’d taken her from me just out of spite… no. I had to find a way out. I had to find a way back to her. To warn her. To keep his filthy hands off of her.
A light pierced my eyes as a door on the other side of the room opened. Two figures stood there, one human, one not. The High Priest of the Chosen slithered in, all six foot whatever of giant king-cobra nastiness. He held a torch in one of his scaled hands. Behind him…
"Kiernan Donovan. What the fuck are you doing here?" I spat, then coughed.
The Irish bastard didn’t reply, not directly. "Sassy little shit, isn’t he?" he mused to the snake as he set a torch into a sconce on the wall. "Doesn’t seem to understand the predicament he finds himself in, does he?"
"They never do. Dragons love to bluster and fight. It’s their pride, you see. Dragons think they’re the pinnacle of evolution. The apex predators. The rulers of all." The High Priest sounded amused. "It will make it so much sweeter when we’ve crushed them beneath our scales. And you will get to be a part of that victory."
"Aye, about that." Donovan’s tone was businesslike. "When do I get the grand mystical powers that you’ve been so cagey about? I’ve seen what you can do. I want that. I need that." He shifted to a more amiable tone. "It’s in yer best interests too. I can’t be at my peak ‘less you lend me some of that hoodoo you do, and I can’t take over my employers’ positions without more power at my command. You want the might of the Irish at yer disposal, you need me."
"Patience, human." The High Priest sounded annoyed. "As I’ve told you before, once you’ve proven yourself, your studies can begin."
"Studies?" Donovan roared. "I’ve seen it with my own eyes. You get the seagulls…"
"Sigils." The High Priest closed his eyes in disbelief.
"Aye, the sigils, and you get the powers. Where’s the study there?" Donovan looked defiant.
I swear the High Priest rolled his slitted eyes. "We’ll talk of this later. Not in front of the prisoner."
"Aye. Fine then." Donovan studied me with a dour expression. "Damn it to hell, though, they grabbed the wrong one."
The High Priest glared at him. "What do you mean, ‘the wrong one?’"
Donovan’s smile returned. "Your shadow dragon doesn’t think much of this boyo. Thinks he’s a right prick, she does." The smile turned cold. "She might not take this bait. It’s too small."
"You don’t know her," I snarled.
He laughed. "Ah, boyo, I’ve known her far longer than you have. I’ve known her since she was a slip of a girl sneaking into the storeroom she calls home now." He rubbed his chin. "But you’re right at that. She’s got a soft heart, even for the lowest creatures. She’ll probably come for you just out of guilt that she let you get caught."
My stomach tightened. "So I’m bait, then?"
The High Priest hissed with laughter. "Water dragons are the social geniuses of the dragons, but not the sharpest minds." He turned to face Donovan. The red and silver spirals on the back of his hood glistened in the low light, staring at me like giant demonic eyes. "Bait, of course, but more than that. We need information on this Arysia Bellmont. Her thoughts. Her movements. Her inner workings. Information you have. Information you could give."
"Not fucking likely." I crossed my arms, fighting the urge to scream as I did so. "You’re not getting a word out of me."
Donovan looked me over again, this time with the eye of a craftsman assessing raw materials. A vicious smile curled his lip. "Oh, you’ll sing for me, boyo. They always do. I’ve been ripping words out of people’s hearts longer than you’ve been out of your da’s cock."
I swallowed hard. The one thing I did remember from my time at the Proving Grounds, the part that they tailored for us, was resisting torture.
I sucked at it.
I thought of Sia. Her long dark hair, her golden eyes full of kindness and gentleness. I thought of the dirty looks she shot me, angry but never vicious. Never with hate. Never with the ice of my own family. I thought of that one long, luscious kiss, the night I presented her with the security staff for the pub. I could still taste those lips, sweet and tender. I thought of what these men wanted for her. Her suffering. Her death. The destruction of her very essence.
I spat at Donovan’s fancy shoes. "Bring it, asswipe."
Chapter Fourteen
Sia
"You checked the perimeter, but you ‘just didn’t see them?’" I yelled at Kane. "How the fuck do you miss thirty Chosen hiding in the bushes?"
Kane was in my face in two steps. "I told you the defenses were weak. They have magic at their disposal. Magic I didn’t have a defense for." He glared at Cass. "There are wards for that. Wards that should have been up at the mansion before you ever considered going there. Your mate dropped the ball there."
"We were assured that the defenses were still up by the Elder Council," Cass shouted back. "Should we be concerned that the Elders are sending us into danger?"
"Don’t try and pin this on the Elders. The Shadow Queen chose Omega Squad as her protectors. You should have been protecting her, by checking those wards before you brought her within a mile of the place." Dario looked smug. "We would have, if it were up to us."
"Don’t you start. Your brother is missing. I’d think you’d be a little more pissed about this." I glowered at him.
His eyes grew cold. "Don’t tell me how to feel. Not right now."
A lump rose in my throat. "I… I’m sorry. I’m scared, I’m confused, and I’m really pissed off. I shouldn’t be lashing out at you."
Dario nodded slowly. "What we need is a plan."
"We need to check out…" Chase started.
Dario cut him off. "No. Alpha Squad is handling this one."
Chase’s brow knotted. "Aric is on our squad. We want in on this."
"Not an option." Dario’s voice was as cold as his eyes. "I don’t trust you on this. I don’t trust your methods, and I don’t trust your judgment. You may have already gotten my brother killed. I’d like to at least find his body." He looked over at me. "Besides, you need to protect the Shadow Queen. Like you’re supposed to be doing. And like you keep failing to do. Do better. Keep her out of this. If Aric’s alive, he’s bait. This is a trap. Don’t just hand her over to them."
"I want…" I began.
"This isn’t about what you want!" Dario shouted, eyes wild. I stepped back a step. "This isn’t about what I want. This is about the fate of dragonkind. I need to get to my brother before he gives up any information about you, not because of any feelings I have for him! This is
all about you. Keeping you alive. Keeping you out of the hands of the Chosen. Getting you mated so we can all shift again in our lifetimes. Getting you bred so your line doesn’t die out." His breathing was ragged. "I don’t care about you, bitch. I care about our people."
I felt my jaw drop a little. There it was, out in the open, ugly and naked. "Glad you cleared that up," I managed after a deep, cleansing breath. "Don’t let us stop you. Go. Find Aric. Last we knew, the Chosen were hiding out in the catacombs under the North End. You might want to start there."
A look of ‘oh shit’ flickered through Dario’s eyes. He opened his mouth to say something.
"Dismissed," I added.
His mouth snapped shut. He turned on his heel and grunted at Alpha Squad. They followed him to their white SUV and took off, tires squealing.
I sank my face into my hands and stood there for a moment, gathering myself. I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder.
"Let’s go into the mansion. The staff’s going to need to clean up, and we need to figure out what we’re going to do." Galen’s voice was gentle.
I nodded, running my hands down my face and letting them drop to my sides. "Yeah. We need to find Aric fast. I don’t trust Dario to do it."
I didn’t have time to cry for Aric. I wanted to, but I stuffed it down in the hole I’d cultivated all those years in foster care. I’d cry those tears later, when we got him back. Or when we found his… Can’t think like that. He’s alive. He has to be.
We all crowded together on one plush couch in the living room of the diplomats’ mansion, Chase on my right, Galen on my left, Cass leaning against my legs on the floor.
"I can’t believe he finally came out and just said it," Chase growled. "I mean, we all knew that they were just chasing you on the Elders’ command, but to just come out and say it like that… it’s disrespectful."
"It’s the first time he’s been honest with me since he got here." I leaned into his shoulder. "I’m actually glad he out and said it. I know where I really stand now. And it’s not like I was entertaining any amorous thoughts about any of them, anyway."
Chase huffed, then ran his fingers through my hair. "No one gets to call you a bitch."
"You can beat his ass later. Right now, we have to figure out how to find Aric." I leaned into him, trying to ignore the quaver in my voice. "The tire tracks weren’t much of a lead."
"No, they weren’t." Chase sounded discouraged. That wasn’t good.
I sat up straight. "But Donovan… Donovan is. We could try Donovan’s hideouts." I looked at Chase. "Chances are, they’ve pulled out of the tunnels by now. They know we know about them."
"Then why did you tell Alpha Squad to go there?" Galen asked with a bewildered look.
I shrugged. "There might still be some Chosen down there holding down the fort. Also, it got them out of our faces until we could figure out what was really going on."
Galen blinked, then a slow smile spread across his face. "You crafty little minx, you." There was a glint of pride in his eyes.
I managed a smile in return, then frowned. "We are going to have to call them back when we find the place, though. It’s a trap. It’s guaranteed to be a trap. Which means we’ll need all the help we can get."
Galen frowned. "Yeah. You have a point."
"But how do we find Donovan’s hideouts?" Cass asked. "He didn’t, by any chance, leave a map at McKinnett’s?"
"No." I gave his arm a gentle shove. "But Kitty might have some leads on where we could find them."
"The poor bastard." Kitty gave me a sympathetic look. "Can’t say I’m overfond of the lad, but I know you’ve got a soft spot for him, and no one deserves what he’s getting." She scrubbed at a spot on the bar with a rag. "I can’t give you places, but I can give you names."
"The boyos!" I smacked myself in the head. "I don’t know why I didn’t think to go to them."
"You’re worried. You’re not thinking clearly." She patted my hand. "But no. You can’t just go to any of them and expect them to spill. Some of them are loyal to the grave. You need the weakest-willed. The most spineless. The saddest sacks of shit who ever stepped into my pub."
"Sounds promising," Chase said, cracking his knuckles in anticipation.
Kitty mulled it over for a second, her bar rag tracing an idle path along the bar. "Davy Burke. He’s the youngest. He’s the one with the most to prove and the least aptitude to prove it with. If anyone’s going to break, it’s young Davy."
"Thanks, Kitty. You’re the best." I leaned over the bar from my stool and gave her a quick hug. She startled, then embraced me. I wasn’t much of a hugger until very recently. Though she’s always quick with a hug, having me initiate one was a new thing.
"Just be careful, sweetheart," she murmured in my ear. "Davy’s still mob. They don’t just let anyone in. He’s proven himself to be a dangerous bastard in one way or another."
"I’ve got three dragons watching my back. I’ll be careful." I released her and dismounted the stool. "C’mon, boys, let’s go find us a mobster." I paused, then looked back at Kitty.
She chuckled. "Try the pool hall off Dorchester. You know the one."
I nodded. "Thanks. For everything."
Kitty frowned, then gave me a stern look. "Don’t you dare make that sound so final, Arysia Bellmont. You bring that snot-nosed little bastard back here for a round on me, but don’t you dare get hurt doing it."
I smiled despite myself. "Yes, ma’am."
She leaned against the bar, all smiles gone. "Serious words, young lady. You come back alive."
I nodded, then turned to the boys and inclined my head toward the door.
Chapter Fifteen
Chase
The tinted windows on the front of the pool hall had seen better days. A spiderwebbed fracture on the one closest to the door looked like the result of a hurled beer bottle from within. It gave me a feel for the place before we even walked inside. My gut, as usual, did not lead me wrong. Dingy tile floor, a long row of pool tables with worn felt and scratched wood sides, warped cues on racks on the walls, a few empty tables covered in the remains of people’s lunches. A bored-looking bartender stood behind the bar off to the right, staring at his phone, not even pretending to look busy. He glanced up as we walked in and did a double-take when he saw my expression.
"We don’t want trouble in here," he barked at me.
I shrugged, trying to look amiable. "Just looking for a friend."
The bartender looked unconvinced. "Ain’t nobody’s friends in here. Just a few regulars."
I looked around the room. It was remarkably devoid of patrons. Four men huddled around a table in the back, oblivious to their surroundings as one of them lined up a shot. I glanced over my shoulder at Sia. "You see him?"
She chewed her lip and looked at the group. "Yeah. Davy’s the one in the brown bomber jacket."
I smiled at the bartender and spread my hands wide. "We’ve found our friend. Just going to have a little conversation with him."
"We don’t want trouble," the bartender muttered. "Especially with Mr. Burke."
"We’ll give him right back when we’re done," I snorted, making a beeline for the table.
Two of the men looked my way as we approached. One rapped Burke on the shoulder. He shot an annoyed look at them, glanced up, then straightened up fast, gripping his pool cue with white knuckles. He wasn’t staring at me, though.
"Get back, you crazy bitch. I’ve heard about you." His homely face was an ugly shade of gray, his eyes nearly white with fear as he stared at Sia. "Some sort of fuckin’ mutant. Throwin’ people around with your brain. Crazy shit. I want no part of it. None."
His friends looked at him like he’d sprouted a second head. "Davy, man, you okay?" the tallest one said. "You need us to take these guys outside?"
"Yes. Outside. Away from me. Now." Davy cracked his pool cue across his knee, snapping it in half and wielding it like a pair of spears. "I don’t want nothin’ to do with your crazy.
"
"We just want to talk, Burke." I raised my hands in a gesture of peace.
"Boss don’t wanna talk," a broad, shorter man growled, cracking his knuckles.
I shrugged. "Okay. If you want to play that way."
"I don’t want no trouble in here!" the bartender wailed as the tall one and the stocky one lunged at me.
"Too late for that," I heard Galen call as he dove at the stocky one. He landed a good solid right hook on the guy before he fully registered Galen’s presence. The stocky one grunted, then returned with a wild swing to Galen’s midsection. Galen dodged it and laughed, nailing him in the jaw a second time.
No time to enjoy the Galen Show, though. The tall one was on me, swinging his pool cue like a baseball bat. Hardly anything to worry about. I caught the thick end of it and rammed it forward, stabbing my assailant in the throat with the tip. He gagged and staggered back a step, clutching at his windpipe. I claimed the cue and poked him in the eye for good measure. He screamed and staggered back another step, breathing hard from pain and fear, blood streaming between his fingers as he clutched his face. Losing an eye will generally freak someone out pretty badly, so I turned my attention from him to Burke.
The third unnamed player was charging at me, roaring incoherently. Cass caught him upside the head with a well-pitched cue ball. He went down like a sack of wet concrete. I raised an eyebrow at Cass. He shrugged and grinned sheepishly. I shook my head and strode over to Burke.