Blood of Stars and Gods (Stars and Souls Book 2)

by Melissa Petreshock

  “Somewhere like the clan estate?” Grandfather turns to my younger brother when I nod in agreement. “The Dracopraesi have protected your clan, our clan for nearly a thousand years. I believe it quite reasonable to offer something in return, regardless of the state of affairs with your brother. Do you not, Evan?”

  Evan appears startled by the prospect. “My home? You think they would find my home suitable?”

  “Yes, brother.” I nod and smile with encouragement, though it may appear weaker than I hope, wanting to feel I have done all I can to protect Cait, abide by my word, giving everything possible.

  “Grandfather, you are the rightful patriarch of our clan, if this is what you wish, I agree,” he offers, not one to argue with anyone.

  “Evan, you and Runa have made it your home for nearly two hundred years now. I refuse to demand such a thing of you.”

  “And I refuse to turn my back on the opportunity to help, knowing all they have done for our family… All that Cait has done for my brother.” His voice breaks, the pain of impending loss weighing on him. “Giving Corrin a peaceful death, I could not expect a greater gift, under such circumstances, than to know his soul will not suffer.”

  “Then it is agreed?” Our grandfather approaches the finality of the decision with caution, ever mindful of the ease of his influence over Evan.

  “It is agreed. They have saved my brother’s soul. I cannot deny the chance to save their future.”

  Dante stands, exhaling deeply. “Caitriona’s destiny defies such limitations as to only serve the future of the Dracopraesi, Evan. We have yet to fully see what my mother intended when she set this into motion thousands of years ago. But her impact on the clan, on Corrin, on me, clearly Caitriona’s reach is beyond the dragons alone.”

  Chapter 3

  *Cait*

  Theo slips back into our room, opening the curtains to let in the morning sunlight before climbing onto the bed with me. “Where were you?”

  He curls me against his body, and I settle into the natural warmth of his skin. “I did not wish to disturb your much-needed slumber. We have worked you hard in training of late, though I fear it is quite impossible to prepare anyone for certain events.” His gentle voice seems out of place, worrisome.

  “Theo, where were you? What happened?” The sense of his state of mind, his emotions washes over me, filling with turmoil and sadness.

  “Daniella,” he begins softly. “She’s gone, Cait. She’s dead.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, the housekeeper’s gentle, smiling face stares back at me, and I push away from him, jumping off the bed, pacing across the room, trying to feel some control, not wanting to cry. “How? Why? What in all that’s holy is going on, Theo?”

  “They’ve learned our routines, lying in wait of any chance to make a move. She entered the building with her usual delivery of grocery supplies, and they attacked her, demanding she allow them access to the elevator. Clifford witnessed it on the security camera; however, there was not time to reach her. Likely, the intent was to use her as some means of a hostage to gain entrance, but she refused.” Theo explains this quietly, remaining still as a statue on the bed, tone emotionless. “They—”

  “No,” I stop him, throwing my hands in the air, bile rising up my throat, and I’m sure I’m about to be sick. “They nothing. This is my fault. I worried too much about Daniella losing her job, about needing to help support her family, and completely lost sight of what I’d bring her into, here.”

  Without giving him a chance to respond, I storm into the bathroom, locking the door behind me, and promptly vomit in the sink, choking and gasping as the tears roll down my cheeks.

  “Cait,” Theo calls through the door, jiggling the handle to no avail. “You bear no blame. She made her choice. She stood her ground. These are the consequences of war.”

  But he’s not convinced of his own words, and I know it. It goes against everything he and the rest of them stand for. Those aren’t the words I need to hear. I need to hear Daniella tell me she’s fine, everything’s okay, and I didn’t just tear the heart out of her family.

  I brush my teeth, rinsing the bitter, acidic taste from my mouth, taking the minutes to compose myself, gather my thoughts.

  “Daniella wasn’t a warrior or a fighter, Theo. She was a housekeeper, a wife, a mother, a grandmother. Completely human, unlike any of us. Completely defenseless,” I remind him, angry that he could be so dismissive of her death, an employee of Theo and Dante’s for decades, cleaning, running errands, caring for the household of a dragon and a demigod without question or incident. “She probably never even held a knife outside of a kitchen.”

  He exhales loudly, and I hear his hands hit the doorframe in frustration. “You are most likely correct. She abhorred violence, a point she and Dante agreed upon wholeheartedly.”

  “Unfortunately, you’re right too. These are the consequences of war. But I won’t risk other innocents, Theo.” My heart hurts, knowing what I’m about to say. “We can’t stay here, not with over a hundred other apartments full of residents who are blissfully unaware of just how much danger they’re in.”

  “None of us wish to take you from your home, Cait. This is my home as well, our home, but my home will always be at your side, wherever that may be.” His words are soft, and I open the door, falling into his waiting arms. “The location does not matter if we remain together.”

  “Then let’s gather up and get going. I hope Runa’s ready for guests.”

  Theo laughs, quiet yet still rumbling deep in his chest against my ear.

  “Evan forewarned her. Knowing Runa, she worked all night to prepare for our eventual arrival, regardless of how adamantly you insisted last night that you would go nowhere.”

  “And look at what my stubbornness earned me. How compassionate can I truly be if I’m blind to the effect my actions have on others?”

  “You still think like a human, not an eternal being, Cait, and that humanity gives an advantage over many of us — you see the world in a way we cannot.” Theo kisses the top of my head, stroking my hair. “In time, you will grow to accept indifference to material possessions, a penthouse home in a building that will no longer stand in a few hundred years, but you will also grow more aware of your actions, the ripple effect such actions and decisions have over time.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Dragons can see what lies beyond all other earthly beings’ comprehension. We know what you are truly capable of, Cait. Most importantly, I know.”

  “Do you …” I hesitate to ask, fearing he won’t have an answer or not one I want. “Daniella, did she go on in peace?”

  My dragon nods. “Yes. Her soul was pure. She spoke from her heart and in honesty. Ero will see her safely to the Sacred Lands.”

  There’s some small relief to hear that, but it doesn’t change the fact I hold the guilt of knowing she shouldn’t be in the Sacred Lands, not yet. “So, Clifford is up and around again,” I ask, needing to change the subject.

  “Indeed, he is,” he answers, leading me toward the bed, and I sit on the edge, wrapping my head around the idea of leaving my home again. “We received word from Agtos. He reached out to brothers from the Catalyst Houses who may be free and available to join us soon to fight.”

  “The Catalyst Houses?”

  He nods, sitting beside me. “Yes. The Goddess appointed three Dracopraesi houses to guard those with destinies affecting shifts in the world, the most common catalysts when the tides change in the Earthen Realm. Hornwelch, Tirclaw, and Kielgard oversee humanity, religion, and war, respectively.”

  “Oh.” I feel like there’s so much to learn, so much to digest about the dragons if I’m someone important to them. That chapter on the Dracopraesi in Cultural Diversity back in high school, the one less than twenty-five pages long and mostly filled with pictures and info on the King’s Guard’s famous Brothers of Pendragon was less than enlightening in regards to practical knowledge of the most elusive supe
rnatural species to exist.

  “I always thought a dragon is a dragon, is a dragon. I had no idea there were all these dragon rules and dragon divisions. Of course, living in the capital, I’d seen the four of you many times before all of this … just never very close until court.”

  Putting his arm around me, Theo laughs quietly. “But Cait, you literally have all the time in the world to gain familiarity with the customs and expectations of the Dracopraesi.”

  I inhale deeply, letting it out slow and steady, avoiding the oppressive sense of overwhelming circumstances that seem to surround me now. “Who might be coming? Are they friends of yours?”

  “The Dracopraesi is a brotherhood, though many of us are what you consider ‘friends’. The relationships between dragons are ones that exceed the comprehension of humans, Cait. What is most important is how comfortable you are with each dragon surrounding you. We may suffer differences of opinions at times, such as Oliver and Claaron, but we have existed for many millennia this way and perform our duties regardless. If you are less than satisfied with anyone arriving, Agtos will find a suitable replacement, yet you should know he sends only the best dragons to your side. He has as much to gain or lose in accordance with your survival as any of us.”

  With a huff, I glare at him. “Names. I want names, Theo. Some idea what to expect.”

  “Remember when I told you of the few dragons never touched by death?” I nod, waiting impatiently. “Agtos has contacted both Garrick Hornwelch and Elizander Tirclaw, though they are both still with wards and may not be free soon enough. They are willing to join us and hope to do so. However, Agtos felt as the House of War; Kielgard would be ideal to recruit anyone who might be available. The only dragon he could confirm will arrive soon is Falcon, from House of Kielgard.” Theo pauses before adding, “I feel it necessary to forewarn you that Falcon …” His jaw tenses, creases forming between his brows. He does not wear stress well, but he wears it often. “Do not be surprised if you find him rather off-putting. He is an excellent warrior but quite lacking in the social skills of high society.”

  “You mean he won’t do the bowing and calling me ‘milady’ dance?” I ask, grinning. “I think I like Falcon already.”

  His lips tighten into a grimace as he shakes his head. “We shall see if you feel the same when he arrives.”

  And I immediately put Falcon Kielgard at the top of my curiosity list.

  *Theo*

  “Theo, I’ll follow whatever orders you give, but let me be clear, I strongly recommend against moving Cait during the day.” Liam is most adamant in his position on the matter; arms crossed over his chest as he stands beside the kitchen island.

  “I expected as much. That is why we will not move her.” I look around the room at each one gathered, eyes landing on my old friend. “Dante will.”

  “That seems the most logical solution, given what available options we have,” Dante agrees. “Certainly, it would not be prudent to attempt moving Caitriona by car. Z’s forces would be far too pleased with the myriad of opportunities placed before them should we do so. If you were to fly her, you leave her unwisely exposed in case of an aerial assault.”

  “Such were my conclusions as well.” The general sense of agreement follows my expectations. No one would wish harm to come to Cait and will do whatever necessary. “Dante, you will take Cait and Corrin. He’s far too weak to travel by any other means.” He nods, and I move on with instructions. “Claaron, Oliver, Liam, and I will launch an offensive attack as a means of distraction. During that time, Jai and Clifford, the two of you will fly directly to the clan estate, remaining with Cait until the rest of us arrive. We have no reason to believe they know of our intentions, but I refuse to leave her inadequately protected regardless.”

  Oliver fidgets with the cufflinks on his shirt, the stress of recent events taking their toll on him, and I do not envy the position he finds himself, overseeing the death of his longtime ward. Less than a month have I spent with Cait, yet I would rather die a thousand deaths than feel such loss. “How soon do you intend we move?”

  “Cait gathers a few things as we speak. Once she is sufficiently prepared, we leave.” Lowering my voice, not wishing for her to hear, I continue. “Daniella’s death weighs heavily on our North Star’s soul. Her heart is gentle, and she blames herself for such events.”

  “Gentle heart. Sharp tongue,” remarks Claaron. “I suppose we should expect a lashing for this as well, albeit, the death of an innocent is an unforgivable consequence of this war, more so than either your or Clifford’s injuries. Though I swear to the Goddess, I’d never tell Cait that.”

  “Cait loves deeply.” Jai’s voice is softer than usual, incredibly sensitive to the pain of others. “Cait loves all her dragons.” He touches Clifford’s arm gently. Cait’s generosity with her love for us all shone through in the wake of my brother’s injury, further endearing her to Jai.

  “Some of us she loves more than others.” Claaron grins wolfishly at Oliver with that comment, and I do my best to refrain from becoming involved in their personal issues with one another. “Some of us are even her favorites.” Both Claaron and Jai grin at Oliver, irritating him further, despite her relationship with Oliver being no secret. Her first ‘favorites’ enjoy gloating.

  “I find nothing amusing in your errant views of Cait’s appreciation of certain dragons in this room, Claaron.”

  As Oliver dares to raise a brow at our brothers, mouth turned down in displeasure, I slam my hands on the island. Thankfully, it does not crack under the force. “That is enough,” I bellow, leaving Liam snickering until I glare at him. “You act as children desiring to be their mother’s favored son, bickering and teasing one another. I have had my fill of such behavior and cannot imagine Cait wishes to see it continue either.”

  “Actually,” she begins, walking down the hall toward us. “I think it’s cute and kind of sweet. Just leave them be, Theo. Your jealous streak is showing.”

  Holding in an irritated growl, I force a smile as she comes to stand between Claaron and Oliver. “My apologies, Cait. I will leave that matter for you to handle in the future and do my best to ignore a behavior I find quite irritating.”

  She rolls her eyes, shaking her head at me, and turns to Clifford. “Are you up for flying yet?” He nods, smiling shyly at her, quite enamored by the nature of Cait’s concern for him. “Good. We need to move, but I worried you wouldn’t be ready.”

  “I’m fine, no need to worry anymore.” His reply is quiet, and I know he rather enjoyed her worrying and fussing over him like a mother hen. Ours is a role of guardians, protectors, and often caregivers to our wards. No one cares for us, concerns themselves with our safety. No one but Cait.

  My GoSky vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, examining the text message delivered, sending a brief reply before shoving it back in, taking a deep breath. “Agtos says Falcon reports he has already arrived at Evan’s ahead of schedule.”

  Dante frowns. “As greatly as I appreciate Falcon’s timeliness, could Agtos not find someone more appealing?”

  “What is wrong with Falcon?” Cait demands. “Theo doesn’t seem to like him either.”

  Speaking carefully, Liam attempts to answer without earning Cait’s wrath for any misstep. “There is a reason he goes by that name, Cait. He’s an excellent flier, best in his house, and Falcon is also a merciless killer when attacking his prey, be it an enemy of war, a dark soul, or simply those he sees as threats to his wards.”

  “Well, aren’t all dragons supposed to be protective that way, guarding their wards, destroying dark souls?” Her quick defense of a dragon she has yet to meet does not make explaining the situation easier for anyone. No one wishes to fall out of her favor, harming their relationships with Cait, the care and affection she gives so generously.

  Clearing his throat, Oliver waits a moment until she looks at him. “On the most basic level of interpretation, that is essentially our purpose; however, I daresay no other dr
agon performs his duties with such ruthless zeal as Falcon. Nor is any other quite so callous in temperament.”

  Cait narrows her eyes at my brother, but he and I both know we are the two she’ll listen to most reasonably. “You’ve told me before, that there are no ‘big bad dragons,’ Oliver, so what’s the problem?”

  He chooses his words wisely before replying. “Caitie, if there were a ‘big bad dragon,’ undoubtedly, Falcon Kielgard would be that dragon.”

  “Ooh, that sounds challenging,” Cait exclaims, her eyes bright, smile wide. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

  Jai quirks his brow, eyeing her with an innocently quizzical stare. “Falcon not nice.” His words are as stern as Jaiteru ever speaks, and I hope she takes his declaration to heart.

  She smirks at me with a wink. “Well, I’m not always nice either, am I? I’ve certainly dealt with plenty of not nice people before, and I’m definitely not afraid of a dragon.”

  Admittedly, I doubt anyone could put Falcon in his place quite like my Cait. “No one said you should be afraid of him, Cait. We simply want to ensure you do not have high expectations given those of us you are familiar with surrounding you. However, since you have made your position adamantly clear then we shall go.”

  *Cait*

  In a flash of lightning and crack of thunder, we arrive at the Clan Corrigan estate, standing in the backyard, facing a massive yet charming, understated Colonial-style farmhouse that somehow seems exactly like the kind of place someone as congenial and unpretentious as Evan Gilroy would live.

  “You are late.”

  Dante murmurs something under his breath, sounding agitated, and holds my hand tighter, letting go of Corrin to move in front of me, tense and defensive, as the stranger belonging to the voice steps out from behind a nearby willow tree.

  “How are we late?” I ask, unsure at first who I’m speaking to, but as he approaches, the distinct sense he’s a dragon settles over me. He’s not quite as tall as Theo, about Claaron’s height. His crimson t-shirt fits his body, so it reveals every lean, chiseled, muscular detail, and those black jeans are far more appealing than his attitude.