“Lower the casket into the grave,” he said to his fellow shifters, his pale eyes masking the sadness that everyone present knew he must be feeling to lose such an old friend. “Then I’ll say a few words about Kliev.”
The shifters, including Minach, advanced. Each lifted an end of rope that had been fastened to the casket’s handles and eased the massive wooden box into the ground gracefully, slowly and in perfect synchronicity. When it had settled, they returned to their spots among the crowd.
This time Amara didn’t position herself to lean against Minach’s body, much to his disappointment. Instead she crossed her arms, seeming to create a deliberately safe distance between them as he edged in behind her. As he looked at her back, the sudden urge overwhelmed him to wrap his arms around her and to hold her tight, both for his own sake and for hers. He needed comfort, and she was the only one who could provide it.
“Kliev was one of my oldest friends,” Lumen began. “He’d lived for hundreds of years, though of course he didn’t look it.”
The other shifters nodded in agreement, and Bertie muttered something about his devilishly handsome features.
“He fought in the Dragon wars in Cornwall,” Lumen continued, “and in the wars in the North. Because of Kindred such as him, our kind has survived through centuries of hostilities from many enemies all over England. He was a strong believer in solidarity and in the community of shifters. Dragons, long ago, were a solitary species, but Kliev saw the benefits of strength in numbers, and it’s partly because of him that our Guild even exists. He’s been with the organization since its inception, and he was the man I trusted to protect the three Relics that we’ve gathered thus far. He did so with honour and skill.”
More nods and murmurs of agreement erupted from the group.
“With that, we’ll conclude this brief service,” Lumen added. “Unless someone has something they’d like to say.”
Bertie opened her mouth as if to speak, but Trix grabbed her arm and squeezed hard, shaking her head almost imperceptibly as her boss clammed up.
“Minach,” Lumen added when the gathered crowd stayed silent, “I would like to speak to you inside for a moment, if you wouldn’t mind.” The Alpha turned and began to walk towards the large house in the distance, leaving Minach to look about at his colleagues, his expression questioning.
“I’ll be back,” he whispered to Amara, who replied, “I have to take off anyhow. Trix has offered to take me to the station.”
“Are you sure? I could fly you into London…”
Amara shook her head. “It’s all right. You do what you need to do. I’m sure I’ll see you soon, if all goes well tomorrow with Bertie.”
“Just get her talking about the merits of sex with shifters and you’ll no doubt be hired immediately to the highest rung of the Syndicate’s ladder.”
“I’d consider it if I knew what it was like to have sex with a shifter,” she replied. Minach wasn’t sure if he was imagining the slightly suggestive nature of her stare. “Anyhow, go. Your Alpha is waiting.”
With that, Minach nodded wordlessly and turned away.
He found Lumen standing in Kliev’s large library, a dark room filled with the musty smell of leather-bound books. Something about it pleased Minach to no end. He’d never spent a lot of time with Kliev outside of the Guild’s chambers, but this place reminded him of the ancient shifter. It was warm, comfortable and if a room could ooze sincerity, this one did.
“I didn’t know Kliev was such an avid reader,” he said as he stepped inside.
“Living on one’s own for centuries tends to do that to a man,” Lumen replied, eyeing the floor-to ceiling bookshelves. Minach moved forward and began examining the tomes.
“Aristotle, Dickens, Shakespeare…” he read. “What? No Harlequin Romances?”
Lumen chuckled. “I suspect he just repeated his own love story in his mind and had little use for fictional ones,” he replied. “He was with her for a few hundred years, you know. He had lots of material to mull over.”
“Centuries, eh?” Minach asked. “I knew that Kliev had a mate long ago. I was sorry not to have met her, but I always assumed that she died a century before Lyre and I were born.”
“More than that, even,” said Lumen, pointing up to a set of portraits that hung on a far wall. One was of Kliev, though his clothing was that of an 18th-century aristocrat. The other was a beautiful dark-haired woman with light grey eyes, clad in a long blue dress.
“A shifter?” asked Minach.
Lumen nodded. “A Wolf, in fact,” he said.
“Like Amara,” Minach murmured.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, nothing. Did they have offspring?”
“They had two children, two shifters. But they died in the wars up north. She died of an illness shortly afterwards. After that, Kliev was on his own for a long time.”
“He was a good man,” said Minach. “Level-headed, kind, calm. The Guild will miss his presence.”
“We will, but we must carry on. Which is why I asked you to join me in here.” Lumen crossed his arms. “There is the matter of the fourth Relic to discuss.”
“The fourth is lost,” Minach said quietly. “We’ve been over this; Kliev was a Dragon of the line of Earth, and his killer most likely hunted him down to prevent the discovery of the Relic.”
Lumen shook his head. “Yesterday after I spoke to you, I made a discovery: Kliev wasn’t the only Dragon of his line. There is another, in Cornwall. A distant cousin of his named Duncan. It seems that Kliev wasn’t as alone as we’d initially thought.”
A quiet gasp emerged from Minach’s mouth. This was unexpected and excellent news in a dark time.
“Do you know where to find him?” he asked, “or what sort of man he is?”
“No,” said Lumen, shaking his head gravely as though reading Minach’s meaning. “But if he’s related to Kliev…”
“Still, he’s not one of us, not a Guild member. He could be a rogue, like Tryst has become…”
“Don’t speak her name, not today,” Lumen shot out, his anger forcing the words out in a hiss. “Don’t say that traitor’s name in Kliev’s home. I never wanted to descend to the level of hating her, but I do right now. I despise her with everything in me. I have no doubt that the Red Dragon was responsible for Kliev’s death, whether she killed him herself or not.”
“I’ve been reluctant to face it, but I have to admit that I do as well.” Minach’s heart ached with the pain of everything that had happened. Their Guild had already been irreparably damaged with Tryst’s betrayal. If it turned out that she’d grown violent, there was no telling what she might do. “We need to find her, Lumen. We should have finished her when we had the chance.”
“I know, and trust me, I intend to see to it that she gets the punishment she deserves, if indeed she’s guilty. In the meantime, I’m afraid I have a job for you. I need someone to head to Cornwall on behalf of the Guild. I would do it, but with Neko and the baby…”
“It’s all right. Of course I’ll go. Just tell me where this Duncan fellow is.”
“I’m not entirely sure, though apparently he lives near Land’s End. His full name is Duncan Marlowe. And Minach—he’s our only hope at this point.”
“I’ll do everything that I can, but I can’t promise anything. We haven’t yet found the verse to guide us to the Relic. Even if he’s willing to cooperate, without a Seeker, this could be a dead end.”
Lumen walked over to a table that sat beneath the library’s row of windows, and pressed his knuckles into its dark finished surface. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from our months of madness, it’s that everything happens for a reason. If we haven’t yet found the verse, it’s probably only a matter of time.”
“Time?” Minach retorted, his tone betraying impatience. “It’s been months since the Relic of Fire was uncovered. Months of waiting, watching. Months of nothing. And now Kliev…” He cut himself off even as his loud voice
echoed around the room. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take my frustration out on you.”
Lumen sealed his eyes tight before opening them again. “It’s all right; I’ve wanted to scream, to break someone’s face. You’re right to be angry. But let’s also make sure Kliev’s death wasn’t in vain. Let’s find this Dragon shifter, Duncan, and do what we need to in order to ensure that the Relic is found. For Kliev, and for us all.”
The Syndicate Tower
When Amara arrived at the Syndicate’s tower the morning after the burial, she climbed the twisting staircase at its core to the top level, where she found a wide open door at the top of the stairs. Hesitantly she knocked, peeking her head around, checking to see if the boss was even in.
Bertie was sitting formally behind a massive wooden desk, her hands clasped together on top of a blotter that looked as though it had never been used. The large office was illuminated on all four sides by circular windows that looked out over London’s vistas, the warm early summer sunlight pouring in to create a brightness that all but hurt Amara’s sensitive eyes.
“Trix and Neko have told me a good deal about you,” said Bertie, her tone deeply serious.
Amara wanted to laugh. The Syndicate’s leader looked so small behind that desk, so out of place as she tried very hard to portray herself as an authority figure. The truth was that she looked like a little doll.
“Have they?” she asked, handing Bertie a golden box of chocolate truffles. “I hope they haven’t been too harsh.”
“Not at all. Beatrix in particular speaks very highly of you. Says you’ve been very good to her and to Lyre.”
“That’s kind of her.”
“She also told me that I should employ you if I know what’s good for me.” She gazed at Amara with a judgmental air, as though assessing her from head to toe. “Though I must tell you, I haven’t met a lot of Enlightened. I don’t entirely know what to make of you.”
Trix had warned Amara about Bertie’s trademark lack of tact and the fact that she would doubtless say something entirely rude and inappropriate. Amara tightened, waiting for the inevitable rejection. Humans seldom felt comfortable in her presence, and she could tell that Bertie was no exception. All she would see was the blood-seeker side, the one that gave her skin its paleness, her scent its strange sweetness. Some instinct inside Bertie would tell her to be ready for anything, that Amara might strike out like a cobra at any moment.
But no rejection came, at least not yet. Bertie simply continued to eye her inquisitively. Perhaps the little woman was braver than she looked.
“If you have a place for me, I’d be very grateful,” Amara said slightly awkwardly. “I do have many useful connections, and I’m good with a blade.” She pulled the Dragon bone dagger from the sheath at her hip and held it up, re-sheathing it when Bertie pulled back in horror.
“I’ve used many a knife in my day,” the boss-lady said, “but I must admit that I’m not fond of them in my office.”
“Sorry,” Amara replied. Great, I’ve already screwed up the interview, she thought.
“It’s fine. I’d expect no less from one of my Hunters.” Amara’s heart raced. Could this mean Bertie was really considering hiring her?
After a moment of tense silence, Bertie rose to her feet and came around the side of the desk, perching on its edge. “You know, I used to be a Hunter. A good one, back when the Lapsed ran wild through London’s streets. I know how to spot malevolent forces in my city.” She levelled Amara with what was no doubt an attempt at an intense stare, but Bertie was just so…adorable. It was a little hard to feel intimidated.
“Do you feel that I’m a malevolent force?” Amara asked.
Bertie shook her head. “No, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why not. I can smell it on you, you know—the blood-seeker. But you’re more pleasant-smelling than most.”
Great, thought Amara. I love it when people bring up my scent.
“I don’t seek blood,” she protested, rejecting the term. “Not human, anyhow.”
“I know. Just promise me you’ll keep it that way and you’ve got yourself a job. The Dragon Guild has given me more money than I know what to do with, and I’m happy to pay you a generous salary for your troubles as anyone. Just get me your banking information and I’ll see to it that your first paycheque comes in by the end of the week.”
“Thank you,” Amara said, her lips curling up in genuine pleasure. This would mean time spent doing what was truly important. Time spent with the Dragons, fighting off the enemies of humans and shifters alike. Time spent with…
“Now, then, I had a call this morning,” Bertie added, looking down at the desk and rifling through what looked like a blank stack of papers, no doubt in order to make herself appear extra-important. “From your friend Minach.”
“Oh?” Something jumped inside Amara’s chest. Why the hell would Minach be calling this woman?
“He asked me if, as a first order of business, I’d be willing to let him take you to Cornwall on a job.”
“Cornwall?” Amara shot out. “Whatever for?”
“We have a lead there. A Dragon shifter who might be able to take us to the fourth Relic.”
“I see, and Minach is heading there himself, I take it?”
Bertie nodded. “Yes, tomorrow, I believe. He said he could use a bodyguard, though that seems like a load of tosh to me. I’ve seen that man in action.”
“As have I,” said Amara, trying to mask her admiration.
Bertie raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Oh, have you now? He’s a tough horse to bridle, that one. Well at any rate, I gave him my blessing. You don’t say no to a man like Minach.”
Some of us do. Amara smiled at the thought of getting the chance to turn him down again; it would mean spending time by his side, at least. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“As to where you’ll be staying, my brother has—had—a cottage in Cornwall, near Land’s End,” Bertie added, “before he left us for a better place.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
The head of the Syndicate chuckled. “Oh, he didn’t die. He’s moved to Paris, the lucky bastard. But the cottage is still in his name, though no one uses it these days.”
Amara stifled a laugh. Bertie was full-on smiling too, for the first time since the Enlightened had walked into her office.
“Anyhow, I emailed him this morning to see if you could borrow the house. He said yes.” Bertie hopped down from the desk and circled back, opening a drawer on the other side. “Here,” she said, tossing Amara a set of keys. “I’ll send you details on the location. Big enough for a Dragon shifter and an Enlightened to share without getting themselves into trouble, I dare say.”
“I’ll make sure Minach behaves himself,” said Amara.
“I wish you wouldn’t. That man needs sex like no one I’ve ever seen. I’d bet a good quick blowjob would wipe that perma-scowl off his face. Then he’d be as handsome as that sexy deaf brother of his.” Amara did her best not to let her jaw drop. Her new employer really was as tactless as the rumours had dictated. “Just do me a favour and don’t let that Minach punch a fist through any walls, would you?” Bertie added. “The cottage is actually in rather good shape.”
“Of course,” Amara replied, rising to her feet. “Will there be anything else?”
Bertie’s expression turned serious, her tone measured. “Just be careful, love. Nothing in this business is as it seems. There are threats where we least expect them, and friends in the oddest places. Keep an eye out for both.”
“I know that all too well, but thank you.”
“Right, then. Have a nice time, dear,” Bertie added as though she was sending her new employee off for a weekend at the beach. “Oh, and don’t forget your sunscreen. With a complexion like yours you could burn in Cornwall. It’s surprisingly tropical. Have you been there?”
Amara shook her head. “Never.”
“Palm trees and old stone churches everywhere. It
’s the oddest place, but I’ve always loved its beauty. Anyhow, enjoy yourself, and don’t let that handsome Dragon pull anything. Well, unless he’s pulling your clothes off, in which case I encourage it.” Bertie leaned forward. “He’s really the most gorgeous devil, isn’t he?” she whispered hoarsely.
“Is he? I hadn’t noticed.” Amara rose to her feet, ready to take her leave in the hopes that she wouldn’t have to answer any more questions.
Bertie pulled back, studying the Enlightened’s face. “You’ll have to work on your lying,” she said. “A special agent who works for the Syndicate needs to know how to grind out falsehoods with a proper poker face. I can tell that you’d like to roll around in the altogether with Minach just like the rest of us would.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. The poker face, I mean. Take care, Bertie.”
“Toodles, lovey. Let me know how it all goes.”
As Amara turned to step towards the staircase, her heart pounding, she said, “Will do.”
Plans
“So, you’re really coming with me?”
Minach and Amara were seated at his kitchen table, the window wide open to allow the evening’s warm breeze to flood the flat. For once, the Dragon shifter looked hopeful, expectant. Excited, even. He was barely able to conceal the joy behind his eyes, and for the moment at least, he looked a little like a young boy anticipating Christmas morning.
“Yes, I told Bertie I would. I brought a little luggage with me. I thought I’d crash here, if that’s all right, so I’ll be ready to go first thing in the morning.”
“Crash here, you say? I never thought I’d hear those words from you, Enlightened.”
“Well, don’t get too excited. I’ll be spending the next few nights with you; it’s now officially my job to accompany you to Cornwall, so I don’t see how another night in the same vicinity as you could hurt.”
“Your job, eh? You’re getting paid to be my escort, then? I like that.” Minach grinned like a Cheshire cat, all teeth and mischief.
Dragon's Curse: A Dragon Shifter Romance (Dragon Guild Chronicles Book 4) Page 5