by Alyse Zaftig
He straightened his collar and glanced one more time in the mirror.
Time to go downstairs.
17
Displayed
Phuong
Phuong’s eyes were half open as the lush curtain was drawn back from the walls of her cage.
To onlookers, her cuff bracelets probably looked like elaborate jewelry. It would be hard for a casual observer to notice that her hands weren’t simply folded in her lap; the cuffs kept her in that position.
The drugs had done the rest. That anesthesia had really done the trick, and she suspected that the doctor had overdosed her. She was fighting to open her eyes at all.
There was a fierce ache where her implant used to be. It had been hidden in her hair for years; it was practically a part of her body.
She didn’t want it, but her stomach turned when she thought about what the future might hold now that the implant removal had happened. She’d thought about it, of course, when they were making plans — but she didn’t know if it would work.
She could already feel that she had access to a little more, but she didn’t know what.
Marc’s voice was loud and magnified. Whatever speakers they used were making her cage vibrate.
The onlookers walked away from her cage. Apparently a subdued and half-asleep Yore girl wasn’t very interesting.
There was only one person left there. He was definitely a wealthy Draka.
Was he going to buy her? Phuong couldn’t wipe away the tear that leaked from her eye with her hands bound.
“Did you choose to be auctioned?”
Phuong tried to open her mouth, but she couldn’t move her tongue properly. With a lot of effort, she closed it.
The Draka frowned. “Hm. You know what? I think that I can help.” He winked at her.
He bit his lower lip deliberately, hard enough to draw blood. A few drops came out. He put his long, elegant index finger to his lip to catch a little blood.
Then his long arm was coming straight through the bars of Phuong’s cage. His finger was making its way inside of her mouth.
The second that the blood touched her tongue, her tongue tingled. She reflexively sucked all the blood that she could from his finger.
Then she caught herself. What was she doing? She didn’t know this guy. Who knew what else was on his hands? Had she really just drunk a few drops of his blood?
But the tingling was spreading throughout her body. First it went to her throat, but her body was thawing like ice in the springtime.
She flexed her hands in the cuffs.
She could talk now. “My hands are tied.”
“I can get you out of this cage.”
The Draka pulled a small gadget from an inner pocket.
“What’s that?”
“Something that ensures that I’ll never have to call a locksmith.”
He put it against her cage’s door. They both heard the click as the door unlocked.
And then he was leaning into the cage and putting it on her handcuffs. She was able to pull her wrists out of them.
He took her hand and brought her out of the cage.
“Olivier, what are you doing?”
“Gahariet, I thought that this lovely lady needed a little help.”
“What have you done? You’re so impulsive.”
“I saw someone in need and helped them. Is there anything wrong with that?”
Gahariet just shook his head and opened his mouth. Instead of words, he expelled smoke which quickly settled into a simulacrum of Phuong, complete with the cuffs that were really on the floor of the cage.
“This could buy us some time.” He closed the cage again. “They’ll be able to see you inside of your cage, which is all that they’ll need until the end of the night. We can maintain it for as long as you like.”
“We need to get out of here,” Olivier said. “I don’t want to tangle with Marc, not on his own ground.”
“Agreed,” Gahariet said in his smoothest voice. “I know an exit.”
Phuong did, too, but she’d memorized the blueprints before going on this job.
“How do you know an exit that wouldn’t be guarded?”
The three of them were drifting towards the door.
“Our family used to own this building before it was sold and ended up as an auction house.”
“Your family?”
“The royal family. The state, I guess.”
Phuong stopped walking.
“What?”
“We’re princes.” Olivier cut straight to the chase.
Phuong’s breath started coming in fast pants. Out of the frying pan and straight into the roaring fire.
She was sweating now. She really needed to get out of here and away from the Draka princes. She cursed her luck. Of all the people that could break her out of that cage, why did they have to be Draka princes?
“You don’t need to take me. I can get out another way.” Phuong turned away from them.
“You’re safer with us.” Olivier lightly touched Phuong’s upper arm.
Phuong couldn’t think of anything less true, but she tried not to hyperventilate.
“I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”
“You ended up in a cage at an auction. Obviously, you can’t.”
Phuong’s jaw dropped. She glared at Gahariet.
“Why do you even care?”
“Because you drank my blood,” Olivier said.
“Yeah, when I was immobile.”
Olivier had the grace to look ashamed.
“Yeah.”
“What is in dragon blood?”
“That’s a complicated question, but what’s important for you right this moment is that we are blood bound.”
Phuong was dumbstruck. Olivier put his arm around her and drew her with them as Gahariet brought them to the exit.
Then they were leaving the building. As they predicted, there weren’t any guards there.
“What do you mean that I’m blood bound?” she asked, hurrying with them.
“We’re blood bound. You drank my blood and bound yourself to me.”
Phuong looked at the twins, one with amber eyes, the other with green. Phuong broke into a flat-out run.
But she’d only run a few hundred yards before smoke materialized in front of her and the twins were blocking her advance.
“Don’t be afraid,” Gahariet said soothingly. “We’ve waited a long time for someone like you.”
Part II
18
Weapons Archive
Gahariet
Gahariet opened the drink cabinet in their weapons archive. They had a real armory, of course, but the weapons archive was where they kept their family’s old weapons. Their grandfather had believed that preserving the history that went along with their family was important, so he’d built a room to showcase all of the weapons that their family had used over the years on different planets.
Gahariet privately thought that their grandfather had built the weapons archive to get a bit of peace. Their grandparents had had a good relationship, but his grandmother got to be a little much sometimes. His grandfather had been very fierce, but he had loved them in his own way.
Gahariet offered a glass of red wine to his twin.
“Who thought that we would meet our mate in Alrech Auction House?” Olivier asked.
“Not me, that’s for sure.”
“You’ve smelled her?”
“She’s definitely our mate,” Gahariet confirmed. “Her smell…I feel like it’s imbuing every part of me with her. I thought that you were reckless to break her out. It’s not like we want to go toe to toe with Marc, not for a good reason at least.”
“She’s a good reason,” Oliver protested. “Our mate is worth whatever trouble she brings.”
Then Olivier blinked.
“The prophecy.”
The edges of Gahariet’s mouth turned down.
“She’s our mate. We have a blood right to claim her
. Marc could never take us to court for claiming our mate. But she’ll make her own decision when she wakes up.”
“We should hire someone to look after her.”
“Yes.”
“Just for a little while.”
Olivier met Gahariet’s eyes. He said, “You’re usually a believer in the impossible. Why are you worried about something that might happen? We know who she is. She should know, too.”
Olivier walked out of the archive.
Gahariet followed him back to the room where their mysterious mate was sleeping, and he could see that something was different about Phuong’s skin in direct sunlight. She was shimmering, almost like the ocean on a sunny day.
He knew that she was their mate. But what happened next was totally up to her. Gahariet didn’t like unpredictability — he had enough of it with his twin — but her decision would be incredibly important. They only got one chance at soul mates. If they lost her, they wouldn’t be able to get someone who smelled the same as she did, arousing protective instincts from both princes.
He had seen his twin’s face in that auction house as he’d helped her out of the cage. He knew that Olivier already felt strongly about her.
Gahariet knew that he was capable of caring for her, but they’d barely met. Olivier was someone who threw himself into anything at all.
Gahariet always looked before he leapt. He planned things. They were going to marry at least nobility.
And now it seemed that they were blood bound for eternity to a Yore girl. Their father would not be pleased. Their marriage should’ve been a pre-selected bride, but they’d dodged their duty for long enough.
It was time for them to have a family and produce an heir.
19
Simulacrum Discovery
Marc
At the end of the evening’s entertainment, Marc went back to check on his most prized possession.
She was asleep inside of her cage. The idea to do surgery right before she came out wasn’t his, but he had to admit that it had worked in his favor. She hadn’t made any trouble from her cage.
He opened the gate. “Come with me, dear.” He knew that his eyes had turned to pure flame.
She took his hand quickly. Without talking, she got to her feet gracefully.
Marc frowned. He came very close to her, his face a half inch from her face.
“Simulacrum,” he spat. “Damn it!”
He left the simulacrum in the cage and went running to his office. Inside, one of his seers was downloading his visions.
“You. Come with me.”
The seer followed Marc as he ran back to the cage.
“What do you see when you see this woman?”
“Smoke.”
Marc’s fist hit the cage hard enough to make a sound that would reverberate around the entire room. Pacing around, he couldn’t speak because he was so furious.
How dare she escape?
“Why is she so life-like? I couldn’t tell before I got close.”
“The smoke is royal.”
Marc stopped pacing and turned to look at his seer. His Drakan pupils narrowed to vertical slits.
He stood a little straighter.
“They won’t be satisfied if they don’t have every last thing, will they?”
He snapped his fingers and his body servant appeared. “I want food.”
In a minute, food was brought to Marc, a simple steak. His body servant knew better than to ask questions at a time like this. How could he be duped by the twin dragon princes? They were stupid and entitled. How dare they steal from him as if he were some Yore cafard without any power?
They were far too accustomed to the reverence that the lesser Vestrans gave them, deserved or not. None of it was earned. They’d gotten lucky and been born in the right family. They hadn’t worked for it, as he had.
He took a sip of his wine and savored it. He was glad that he was in a position to have the finer things in life. Someone needed to challenge them.
That’s what he should do. He’d challenge them. He wasn’t under their spell, and he didn’t need them. They had stolen from the wrong Drakan.
Marc knew what he could do. He went to one of the secret compartments in the room. After the surgery, he’d kept a vial of her blood. It was a small vial which he could use to draw her out. It was much easier than storming a royal castle.
It would be better if she left on her own. From what the Yore seers had told him, the girl was special. She had a great destiny. She was special enough to stay by his side as a mate and mother to his children. She was certainly beautiful enough for the job.
Sparks of fire flickered in front of him as he cast a spell over her blood, whispering that she was his.
He smiled as he felt the whispered message sing in her blood and go faster than light into her mind. It was a time-delayed message, but it would do nicely, lodging in her subconscious until it could break through.
20
Test Results
Gahariet
The next morning, the healer had his tablet in his hand.
“I sent you the results this morning. She’s very Yore — I’d say 100% pure Yore, not interbreeding at all. I think that she’s an example of what they looked like before the Draka came.”
“There were surgical stitches at the base of her head, right next to her neck. I’ve only seen those kind of scars once before.”
“When?” Gahariet asked.
“She must have had some kind of suppression implant. They put it into Yore that could grow up to be trouble for the Draka.”
“You’re saying that she’s dangerous,” Olivier confirmed.
“I’m saying that you should be careful.”
The doctor closed his tablet and went to the door.
“I’ll have my staff contact you about follow-up visits. We’re not sure what will happen when she wakes up.”
“You’re welcome in the castle at any point that you want. I can get you a permanently valid ID that can get you into our home whenever you like,” Gahariet offered
The healer’s eyes lit up. “Sounds good to me.”
“Then, thank you for your time. We’ll take care of all of her medical expenses.”
The healer bowed to them before leaving.
“She’s pure Yore. Where should we look next?” Olivier asked his brother.
“Birth records,” Gahariet replied. The mystery woman still didn’t have a proper name.
They walked to the archives in the castle.
They ran an image recognition search on her face, but she wasn’t showing up in the genealogical records.
“What kind of person doesn’t have a family history?” Olivier said.
“An orphan,” Gahariet replied.
“Heritage House,” they said simultaneously.
They accessed the records of foundlings who had been raised in Heritage House. The files had no images. Her file had a record of an unsuccessful search for off-planet visitors who had been pregnant while traveling to Vestra, anybody who had visited with small children, and missing citizen reports. But they hadn’t been able to find out where she’d come from.
“What is this?” Olivier pointed to a schematic. “This implant?”
Gahariet scanned the file quickly. “Some kind of suppressant, like the healer said. She was able to mesmerize her handlers at a young age, and when they realized that they didn’t want to give her infinite cookies, they suppressed that ability.”
“So she has something in her head that keeps her contained?”
“It might be gone. We saw the scars.”
Olivier shook his head. “I don’t know what that means. She can convince people to do anything?”
“Well, not right now. I’m pretty sure that she’s sick, or she would’ve woken up.”
Olivier blew out a long breath. “I need to go for a hunt. I can’t stay in here, cooped up and waiting for her to wake up.”
“She’s fine,” Gahariet said. “Why don’
t we go for a con chim hunt?”
Olivier’s eyes lit up. He melted into smoke that poured out of the window, and Gahariet followed him.
Vestra had birds that had the ability to disappear. It was always a surprise to the dragons to crash into the small birds in flight. They were wing-brethren, but it was still fun to chase them. Nobody got hurt. The dragons would often take a single feather from their prey before going away.
The con chim of Vestra were somewhat telepathic with the ability to talk to the dragons inside of their heads. There were myths in the Yore folklore that they could light the sky in times of need, but no Draka had ever seen a light warning.
They circled around the forest until they saw a bird flapping its wings to gain height. They turned and began to chase it. The bird flew frantically, trying to go faster than the dragons, but the dragons gained and gained until suddenly Olivier was swooping down to bite a single feather off of the bird.
You won. The bird said. Now can I go hunt?
Go on. Olivier and Gahariet watched as the bird flew upwards and rode the wind.
Olivier still had the feather in his mouth. Gahariet wouldn’t tell him, but it made him look silly. They were a little old to play this hunting game.
They flew back to their own castle, Olivier carefully depositing his hunting trophy on the window sill before flowing back inside as smoke, materializing in human form with a huge grin on his face.
Gahariet was glad that Olivier had a smile on his face again. They knew what the Yore seer had told them would come to pass, but they might as well enjoy themselves while they could.
21
Woken Up
Phuong
Phuong’s whole body was warm. She heard the gentle sound of water lapping against the edges of a tub.