Blood Moon_A novel of the Paramortals

by Livia Quinn

  Her voice rose sharply. "You asked me what happened. I'm telling you." She turned on her heel, swept her hair up tightly with both hands in frustration, then released it, sending it down around her shoulders. Again, River followed the path of those curls to her waist and... His gut twisted. He didn't know what to believe.

  "I knew I'd failed. I thought there was something wrong with me. But Petre said it sounded like some kind of blood bond. He suggested Conor test the theory. Since he's not fae, if he felt it, too, it would likely mean Petre was right."

  River's eyes snapped to hers at the upshot of what she was telling him. She was related to Styx? But she and Conor were dragons. His brother may not have Djinn Qi now, but he wasn't a dragon. "Well?" Impatience colored that one word.

  "Conor had the same reaction as I. I still don't know what he felt exactly because he flew home to get answers from our clan druid."

  River's wide hand pressed his temples obscuring his gaze from hers. He was losing hope. Jack and Tempe were in danger. Conor was gone. Dylan was on a mission and his parents…well, they were off working on behalf of strangers. When they should have been here.

  "What did your imp mean when he said, he's not a dragonhunter?" she asked.

  River shook his head. "I don't know. We assumed he was a dragonhunter because of the amulet he wears. Dutch figured it was a trophy."

  "I wish I understood its magic," said Cinder softly. "River, before, when you said..." His head swiveled toward her, eyebrow raised, but he didn't speak. "You said if I got the chance again..."

  He looked down at her austerely from his great height. "You take creatures' heads off. You'll know."

  She almost choked on her next words. "W-what if I don't?" He frowned and crossed his arms, waiting for her to explain.

  She didn't meet his eyes for a moment and when she did, the violet depths were troubled. Guilty. His eyes narrowed.

  "I've never actually... done it before."

  "What does that mean, you've never done... it?"

  She huffed. "I've never... slayed a dragonhunter before." Her voice dropped, "Styx would have been my first."

  River stared at her. Efrit! Of all the— He spun away. All he needed now was for Styx to… no—he shut the thought down. He started to walk away but something made him turn back and he lost his momentum completely. She looked small and lost, not at all like the fierce, kick-ass warrior he'd met just yesterday.

  When she looked at him with her eyes full of misery and self-disgust, his heart twisted. She lifted her lavender gaze to his, rested her palm on his forearm and then there was nothing in his head but her. He cupped her chin with his fingertips, wiped a tear as it fell off her lower lid and heard himself say, "Kiss me, Cinder."

  Cinder's eyes flew open but then drifted closed as she leaned forward pressing her mouth to his normally unyielding lips. But they were soft and pliant even though she sensed restraint when he returned the kiss. She didn't care why it was happening. She just knew she wanted him.

  Him, so often the subject of her dreams, the one she'd been brought here to find, not to kill, even though they'd started off on the wrong foot. Now she understood why. She was only surprised that learning of her flaw, her defect, he still wanted her.

  River felt a rush of energy. He was alive, filled with hope suddenly as he remembered how he'd felt before he'd been enthralled. His mind was starting to click, to plan. Her tongue danced against his and he groaned. A solution hovered at the edge of his thoughts.

  He loved her strength, was drawn to her vitality. Running his palms down the leather at her hips he reveled in the way his fingers could span her tiny waist. They trailed over the curves of her butt, scooping her up against him. Her small exclamation brought him back to his senses, but only back to thoughts of her.

  Why her? What was it about this dragonfae that called to him like no other woman? And more importantly, why did holding her seem to mitigate the effects of Styx' hold on him?

  "Have you put a spell on me?" He asked, his hands full of her vibrant hair. "I can think when I'm touching you."

  She laughed, "I'm not sure that's a compliment. I would prefer you lost your head...wait, I didn't mean it that way."

  But River wasn't paying attention. He was thinking about the dream he'd had about having his family back together again. If they could just get through this situation with Styx, maybe his parents would be able to live in Destiny, be happy again; he and Tempe could return to a normal life, and he—he'd almost slipped, thinking of a future where he and this dragon girl might what? Date? Hang out? Absurd. She was a dragon. That couldn't work, could it? Besides, once she completed her mission she'd fly home to Scotland, or some other realm. Where did dragons live anyway?

  River realized he was getting way ahead of himself since he might be dead, either by her hand, her brother's, or his own but he experienced a sudden clarity about the tales his parents had told him and Tempe during their childhood picnics, about family, commitment and love. And the ones River thought merely entertainment had been actual historical accounts of Paramortals finding their mates.

  Cinder's lips were shiny from their kiss and she looked up at him as if she had questions of her own. He shook his head indicating they could wait, and lowered his head to hers once again.

  "Ahem… I'm baaack."

  Chapter 30

  I'm baaack.

  River stiffened and lifted his lips from Cinder's, though he didn't release her. He couldn't believe how right it felt to have her in his arms. He'd thought the first time had been a fluke.

  "If you'd stop messing around, you might learn something that could save the world," said the familiar voice.

  River rested his forehead against Cinder's. "Is there a rule that says I can't kill the family familiar? One of these days..."

  Reluctantly, he let Cinder move away and turned to the imp who was pointing at her, hopping from one foot to the other nervously, "Be careful whom you kiss. "

  River shook his head, "Pay him no mind."

  Marty's eyebrows hiked up as his finger sprang out from his hand like elastic and pointed at Cinder. "Whatever, but don't blame me when you find out you're related... blood bonds with the enemy," he added in his cryptic I'm delivering important information here, now you figure it out voice. River let out an aggrieved sigh.

  "What is he talking about?" Cinder asked.

  "I thought you wanted to know why Styx is here," pouted Marty.

  River said, "I know why he's here. I want to know why he's been a family secret for so long. And what happened between him and Dutch?"

  Before Marty could answer a voice called out from the side of the house, "River. I'm glad I found you."

  Ryan Kirkwood had driven up and they'd been so engrossed in conversation it had escaped their notice. Ryan jogged down the hill to meet them and looked down at Marty, trying to ignore the imp's presence as he turned toward River and Cinder. "Have you seen Conor?"

  River shook his head. "He hasn't returned yet. Have you got any news about Tempe or Jack?"

  Ryan pursed his lips and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "Not on Jack, but... I'm sorry, River, the postal center called. They got an alert from her video cam. A large individual in a hood approached her in her vehicle. They found it a few minutes ago, abandoned outside town."

  "Marty told me." River gripped his head between his hands. The despair that had nearly drowned him for months rolled toward him like a huge black wave. He must disconnect all thoughts or images of his parents immediately…

  Marty broke in as if he sensed something in River's thoughts. "Do not hold a grudge against your parents, River." He wagged his finger.

  "I don't." River stopped, realizing it was a lie.

  "Right." The ten-inch-tall imp crossed his arms and tapped a pointy brown foot. "Your parents have given up a lot for you. Your father had to comfort Phoebe many times when she cried from the pain of pretending not to care."

  River frowned as Cinder reached over, tucking
her hand into the crook of his elbow. He said, "How would we know, since they didn't see fit to explain."

  "To explain would be to expose," said Marty. There he went again.

  River was getting irritated at Marty's partial revelations. "What happened between them and Styx?" he pressed, crossing his arms, as a feeling of…self-possession swept through him at Cinder's light touch. He stared way down at the little familiar, but Marty stood as straight as a soldier.

  "Not them. Only your father and the ancients." The imp's voice turned harsh and angry. "Styx is not a dragonhunter. Not even Djinn. He's a nothing," he spat.

  Styx, a nothing? Couldn't prove it by him. What did Marty mean by 'the ancients'? "You mean the Collecte, the ones who took the Oath?"

  The term Paramortals came into being after the Great Battle when all the supernatural species joined together and vowed through blood, spell, or, in the case of the dragons, mere oath, that they would protect all mankind from the domination of the darker forces, fighting against their respective enemies to maintain a balance of power. Dylan had told River the Collecte was like a supernatural NATO.

  "If he isn't a dragonhunter, what's he doing here?" Besides making me his slave.

  "He thinks he can use you," Marty said slowly.

  He thinks. River felt hope well up again.

  A shadow fell over the group, and they looked up to see Conor's large dragon blocking the light momentarily, then he landed nearby, changing in midair. He walked over to them, nodded at Ryan and River and accepted an embrace from Cinder.

  "How did everythin' go to hell so quickly?" Conor asked. "I wasnae gone but a day." He looked at River, "Montana told me about Tempe."

  Ryan said, "Time is critical, I think. Just my human gut, you understand," knowing he was at a disadvantage among these supes.

  Conor said, "A warrior's instinct. And a friend's."

  Ryan cleared his throat. "I hate to sound like a dumb human, here, but if you beings are so powerful and your wise men so smart, why don't they take the bad guys out when they first detect them? Seems like it would save a lot of wear and tear."

  Conor might have smiled yesterday, but his mood was more somber today. "Assassination? 'Tis not that simple, and t'would not be just. Our ancestors knew the dynamics of our universe. Whether the conflict is about faith or territory, whether human or supernatural, there is an internal need for creatures to decide their course for themselves."

  "What did the druid tell you, Conor?" Cinder asked.

  Conor looked up for several long seconds, as if he could see the past, then faced them, having apparently bolstered himself for the telling.

  "Aevyn had been expecting me for a verra long time, to relate some important history." With his hand on Cinder's shoulder and his eyes on River, he said, "His story began with a child born to an evil gual and a powerful djinn, whom she'd beguiled using her soul-stealing powers, enhanced by her master's dark magic.

  "Once grown, their son offered himself as a conduit transferring his father's bond to the Dark Lord, the co-leader of a band of amoral supernaturals including Athiog the Gray, the dreaded rival of our own clan. With the added power of the djinn they attacked our land, and many dragons and other good creatures were lost in the battle."

  Cinder crossed her arms, her voice sharp, "Who was this djinn?"

  River avoided looking in her direction. "My father." The cloud of doom and the impending threat returned when she withdrew her hand from his arm. His expression was bleak when he looked at Conor. "I'm right aren't I?"

  River rubbed his hand over his face. "The healer kept muttering, 'You must live, for AbaJehban'…and something about taking on the dark ones. But what's this got to do with Styx?" River cast a glance over his shoulder. His half-brother or one of his goons could be standing nearby listening to this conversation.

  "Patience, children," Conor growled. "There is much to relate, and then it will all make sense. As you know, River, when a Djinn is enthralled, his will and sometimes his soul is temporarily undermined or commanded dormant, until the binding is broken in one of three ways: the end of the contract, the release by the master for whatever reason, or an interruption in the bond."

  Conor was giving him too much credit. Having never been bound before Styx, River wasn't aware of any of the particulars or binding issues. "What do you mean an interruption in the bond?" he asked, feeling Cinder's withdrawal more every minute.

  Conor's brow arched. "The beginning of a mate bond." Something elusive stirred in River's mind as Conor continued, "Dutch met Phoebe during the Great Battle, and their initial bond was strong enough for him to pull free from the Dark Lord and save the soul and mind's eye of our clan leader, Maxim."

  Cinder jerked as if she'd been struck. "Father? But... " Her eyes cut from River to her brother. "I-I thought he was dead. Did you know any of this?"

  Conor shook his head. "Nay, I thought both our parents had been killed. I'm sorry, Cinder. It is painful to find out today that our father has spent centuries chained in a dark plane longing for the freedom to soar with our mother.

  He continued, his gaze on River, "It was too late to save Maxim's physical body, but the djinn did what he could. Once they no longer had the djinn's power behind them, the remaining dark ones were beaten back. When the battle ended…with their fresh understanding of the need to ensure a balance of power, all the species came together in solidarity and formed the Collecte.

  "Their first order of business was to strip the young djinn's powers; they scarred him as a warning to any contemplating the dark path and consigned him to The Pale. And they put the Chaos in motion."

  Ryan shook his head. "That seems counter-productive, like giving your enemy a free swing."

  Conor said, "That's why it is limited to twenty-four hours. But the Greatest said, it was only fair."

  Cinder looked up at her brother; he seemed so different from the person who'd greeted her just yesterday upon her arrival. "Who is this Greatest you speak of?"

  A voice boomed behind them. "He was my brother."

  Chapter 31

  You'd allow me to kill ye right here? In front of yer own son.

  Conor didn't seem surprised when a diaphanous cloud of silver smoke spewed from a spot in the air between them and Dutch's huge presence materialized by the water's edge.

  River wasn't either. "You're late, as usual."

  Dutch waved away his irritation. Then, in an uncharacteristic gesture, he moved toward River, who flinched as Dutch's large hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. "Now is not the time for family squabbles, son, but for reparations and justice." He turned to Conor, but aimed his question at Cinder, "Young woman, I assume your brother took care of security."

  "Hrrmph. Someone had to," Conor grated. The tension at the moment was thick as lava and just as heated.

  "Yes," Cinder said looking from one to the other. "Conor contacted me on his way home about using my fae glamour as a tent no matter where I went until I saw him again."

  "Excellent." Dutch pulled River to him in an exuberant bear hug. "How are you, son? You need not fear that Styx will sense my presence. The dragoness has glamoured us." He held River's face between his big hands and stared from one eye to the other. "The bond is not yet complete, thank the gods."

  River had so many questions. Dutch had called the druid, Aevyn, "brother". Was this another relative River didn't know about? Dutch turned back to Conor and faced the dragon straight on.

  "How was Aevyn? Has he finally found peace?" he asked Conor with concern, and River realized that for the first time since he was a child, Dutch was holding nothing back. Raw emotion etched his father's face. Conor crossed his corded arms, the sword edges clinking against each other. Obviously disinclined to engage in niceties, he said only, "He sent his regards."

  Cinder stepped in between them. "Conor?"

  She was courageous, and a bit rash, River thought but he smiled.

  Conor turned and placed his hands on Cinder's shoulders. "Great
est—called that before the Great Battle, because he was the oldest of the living dragons—is also Aevyn the druid. And our great-great grandfather."

  River watched the interactions between his father and the dragons, feeling like a spectator at a play, the actors performing an obscure plot.

  Dutch said, "I have spent many centuries trying to make amends for my part in that horror, building a coalition alongside my brothers, Aevyn, Petre and others, to keep what happened in our time from ever happening again. Now it comes full circle."

  Cinder blew out an exasperated breath, "What is he talking about, Conor?"

  Dutch straightened. Standing face to face with Conor, they were the same height. Holding Conor's gaze, he lowered his crossed arms to a position of complete vulnerability. "I was responsible for your mother's death, and your father's situation because of that foul offspring. If you want retribution, I will subjugate myself to you now willingly."

  "No!" River started forward but Dutch held up his hand.

  "It's okay, River." He looked at Conor. "As head of Maxim's clan, it is his choice and the debt is one I have long waited to repay."

  No one twitched as the two powerful beings stood toe to toe, the ancient djinn and his victim's firstborn. Conor's muscles bunched, his eyes focused on Dutch and yet, he did not act. Cinder, impatient as she was thirsty for revenge on the father she'd barely known, stood a silent and ready back up to whatever her brother and leader decided.

  Finally, Conor relaxed. His shoulders slumped and everyone breathed a sigh. But with a blur of motion and a flash of brilliance, Dutch's neck was suddenly bracketed between the two giant blades, his eyes focused calmly on Conor, acceptance of his fate written on his impassive features.

  Conor looked into the face of the big djinn, shaking with the fresh knowledge of what happened to his parents and that the being responsible stood not a foot from him, at his mercy. "You'd allow me to kill ye right here, in front of yer own son?"

  Dutch was resolute. "I told you, it is your right. I won't try to stop you, but..." he paused. Dutch's eyes cut to River, then back to Conor, still holding no condemnation or aggression. River perceived regret in his father, finally, that he wouldn't be able to reunite with his family.