by C. I. Black
“Yes. When dragons fell, they didn’t realize our souls awakened powerful magic in roughly twenty percent of humans, and initially most dragons had to share a body with an occupied… vessel.”
“And that created more of the people you feared.”
“Yes, and they were dangerous, most falling soul sick and going crazy.”
“So that law was made.”
“Yes, and the Asar Nergal was formed.” Raven set the medical kit on the table and pulled a chair to Becca’s side. “A handful of centuries later, Nero took over leadership, because he realized the law was making him kill innocent children who were naturally developing earth magic, and he started hiding them instead. Dragon society wasn’t ready to accept humans with natural magical abilities. The Great Scourge, that’s what we call what happened, was still too raw.” Even after two thousand years, it’s still raw.
Becca glanced at the room where Nero had been, with the young man in the bed. The other dragons feared him. They didn’t know Nero was the dugga, but they feared that position. Dragon law was absolute. If any one of those dragons had known Nero was protecting mages instead of killing them, he’d be sentenced to death— no, that wasn’t right. He’d be sentenced to rebirth, something akin to death, without a second thought — and she wasn’t going to think too hard about what that rebirth thing was. It wasn’t important to the conversation.
“So he risks everything to save humans, defying his own peoples’ law.”
“And if the dragon who runs that facility learns he’s the dugga, Nero could be challenged for his position—” Or politically forced out of his position. “—and then everything he’s built here would be in danger.” They would kill our kids and rebirth every dragon involved.
“I can see why he wanted to kill me.” When they’d been connected, his thoughts had told her that. She endangered everyone he held dear. And yet his thoughts had changed the moment he’d tried to kill her. She’d become a part of that everyone even though he didn’t know her. It had scared the crap out of him.
And it scared the crap out of her.
She’d been alone since leaving the army. Her grandmother was gone, she had no other family — Lord only knew why she’d moved back into her grandmother’s house in Toronto. All her friends were either dead, deployed, or living closer to Petawawa. To be a part of an everyone again—
The loneliness of those months back made her heart ache, and made her terrified of how much she needed to be part of a unit again. Military or family. It didn’t matter.
But Stanbury had known Becca was psychically connected to the dugga, which made her a target. Which in turn made him and his family a target. Nero had been in her head while she was being questioned. He had to know she’d been pressed for information about him. It was actually a wonder he hadn’t killed her, and even more of one that he’d agreed to her terms and was going to let her leave wherever they were.
Raven peeled back the top of the medical tray, revealing an incision kit complete with surgical blade, gauze, self-adhesive bandages, and sterile wipes. “Let’s get this tracker out. Shift to the side on the chair, so I can get to your back and expose your right shoulder.”
Becca unzipped her hoodie and slid it and the strap of her tank-top off her shoulder, revealing the rose and thorn tattoo licking the bottom of her neck, dipping across her collar bone and curling down her biceps and shoulder blade. The ink swept in and around her scars, the jagged ones from the shrapnel from the explosion and the rounder one from the sniper’s bullet.
“This is lovely,” Raven said. But those scars. She’s seen things.
“I got it for my grandmother. She raised me and died while I was on my second tour in Afghanistan.” Becca wasn’t going to acknowledge Raven’s other thought. Yeah, she’d seen things, but the worst of it hadn’t been in Afghanistan and hadn’t left a physical scar.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” Her grandmother hadn’t wanted her to go back, but Becca hadn’t been able to retire. There were too many people who needed help and friends who were going back who she wanted to protect. She’d thought her whole life had been with the army. So she’d gone and had been unconscious in an army hospital in Germany when her grandmother had taken ill and died.
“I think I see something.” Raven ran cold fingers over Becca’s shoulder, drawing a shiver. “And I certainly feel it. Just under the skin here. Hand me the scalpel and grab a piece of gauze.”
Becca handed her the knife and picked up the gauze.
“Take a breath in.”
She did.
“And out.”
The blade pinched the back of her shoulder, and Raven took the gauze. “Got it. Want to unwrap a bandage?” She pressed the gauze to Raven’s back and set the scalpel and tracker on the table. “It wasn’t deep, so you shouldn’t need stitches.” She took the unwrapped bandage. “Which is good because I’m terrible at stitches.”
“Dragon healing and all that.” The words jumped out before Becca realized what she was saying. It came from one of her captor’s memories. Dragon’s souls had magic that healed them at an accelerated rate. It also stopped their bodies from aging, making them immortal.
Another shiver threatened to rush over her, and she drew in another breath, steadying herself before Raven eased more warmth into her head.
“You got it?” Raven asked. She’s so strong. Maybe she can do this.
“I’m okay. Been through worse.” Becca shrugged her scarred and tattooed shoulder. Although she wasn’t sure whether how her last tour had ended was really worse than what had happened in the cave.
A black vortex formed on the wall beside them and with a whoosh, Nero stepped into the kitchenette. He wore a winter jacket and held a pair of boots and another jacket. His gaze landed on her as if instinctively drawn to her, and a hint of something heated in his eyes. It drew another shiver within Becca, but one of craving, not of fear.
Jeez. What was wrong with her?
The terror threatening to overwhelm her should have frozen her libido, not turned her on. But that fear wasn’t why she was drawn to him. It also had nothing to do with the fact that she’d been pretty much celibate for a year… years, if the memory from the cave was right. No, it was the knowledge that his core value to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves resonated with her. She’d become a soldier because people were being terrorized. He was defying his people’s law because he couldn’t murder innocent children. And — the memory of him in the shower flashed into her mind’s eye — she just had to face it, he was sexy as hell.
To think, less than an hour ago he’d tried to kill her, but that made perfect sense. What didn’t make sense was why he’d let her live. No matter what she’d told Raven, her odds of staying sane were slim. Even with the other woman’s magical help, she could feel her mind trembling, on the verge of splintering.
The only thing she could do was hold it together long enough to contact Werner and free the others. After that… well, she had no idea what would happen after that, but in the very least, she couldn’t allow herself to endanger other people.
20
Nero knew where Becca was the instant he gated into the kitchenette. His gaze leapt to her, and he couldn’t make himself look anywhere else. Something in her expression had changed, the wariness she’d had moments before had softened… a bit, and it could have only been because of something Raven had said. He could tell from the strain around the younger drake’s eyes that she desperately wanted to save Becca, and he hoped to the Mother of All for all their sakes that she could.
“You ready?” he asked.
Raven applied a self-adhesive bandage to the back of Becca’s shoulder.
“The first place I want to check out is on Liberty, across from the train station.” She zipped up her hoodie, her gaze locked on his, making him want to flash his teeth at her in sexual invitation.
“Good location to meet,” he forced out, keeping his jaw tight. Becca wouldn’t
understand what showing his teeth meant but Raven certainly would.
Stay focused on the job.
Keeping Becca safe—
Keeping everyone safe, God damn it.
He dragged his thoughts to the train station. It was in the heart of town, with lots of people coming and going, so someone could easily hide among them. It also had easy access to public transit and taxies, as well as a number of side streets nearby if escape was necessary.
He hung the coat he’d grabbed for Becca on the back of his abandoned chair and set the boots on the floor beside her, then made himself step away and pull out his phone. He opened up the map app and searched the street view of the location for a place to put his gate. Using his car would have been less noticeable and therefore less risky, but he didn’t want to waste time driving around Newgate and potentially searching for parking if something happened to Becca — not that he wouldn’t just abandon his car without a second thought, but he couldn’t do that if stuck on a road without a place to pull over — that would draw even more unwanted attention from humans and dragons.
“There are two spots I want to go to before we surveil Stanbury’s hospital,” Becca said, drawing his attention inexorably back to her.
She slid her feet into the boots he’d taken from the supply room. There were used, a man’s size six, and had been worn by a teen he’d rescued thirty years ago who now ran Nero’s center for troubled youth in London, England. Nero had a room full of outgrown shoes and clothes, ready for a youth coming in off the streets in need of help, but it was also a room full of memories of those he’d saved and welcomed into his house.
And now he endangered all of them.
That was what he had to concentrate on.
Not Becca.
Even if not killing those kids was the right thing to do, Regis and many other drakes would see saving human mages as unforgivable. If that information got out—
And with Becca connected to his dugga’s magic and another drake after her, that would happen sooner rather than later.
It was time for Raven to review the protection plan and notify the coterie’s second in command, Hunain, in case it needed to be activated. Mother, the idea of giving it all up hurt — that was the danger with having a living hoard — but he’d always known it might be necessary.
“While we’re gone, and you’re keeping a watch on—” He jerked his chin toward the new intake’s bedroom, not certain what to call him in front of Becca.
“The new guy?” Becca asked, making him wonder if she’d read his thoughts even though he couldn’t feel her in his head.
“Yes, the new guy,” he said. “While you’re watching him, you need to review the protection plan. Also, call Hunain and tell him of the review and—” He couldn’t believe he was going to say this, but times had changed in the last month. “—bring Hunter and Grey in on it, and Capri if she’s returned from her shift at work.” The two ancient drakes and the head of the North American Clean team would be assets in helping the puzur disappear and, knowing all three of them, they’d know something was up anyway and stick their noses in, causing trouble until someone told them what was happening.
Raven’s eyes narrowed. “It’s too soon for such a drastic measure.”
“That’s why I said review. But if anything goes wrong, I need you to enact it.” His gaze jumped to Becca, and he wrenched his attention back to Raven, who narrowed her eyes, not even trying to hide that she knew something was wrong.
“I understand,” Raven said.
Becca shrugged into the also-used winter coat. “Protection plan?”
“Just a precaution. Also, get Diablo to search for metal umbrella art in the downtown core. That will help narrow down where this facility is and perhaps who owns the property.” He pressed his hand to the wall, subvocalized his power word, and summoned a gate before Raven could question him further. “Let’s look for your friend.” Even though he doubted anyone else had managed to escape.
Becca shuddered and crossed her arms. The strain of standing in front of the gate made her body stiff, and the muscles in her jaw and neck flexed. Another good reason he should have chosen a motor vehicle as their means of transportation.
No. Speed over comfort. That was the best choice, even if it did make his insides squirm seeing her strain.
Mother of All, he was a stronger drake than this.
“Take a breath.” He held out his hand. “You’ve done gate travel before.” Guess this would be the test if she can keep it together or not.
Please let her keep it together. He didn’t know what he’d do if she succumbed to the soul sickness. His only option would be to suffer with her until she died of old age, accident, or, Mother help him, suicide. Or until the Handmaiden returned and he could beg her for help — although, with a dragon’s sense of time, her return could be in a few centuries and that wouldn’t help him.
Her hug around her body tightened, her expression turned determined, and her brilliant red aura flared, as if she were gathering her power around herself and strengthening her will. Mother, she was breathtaking.
The sense within him that claimed he belonged to her howled with certainty and desire. Hers. Always hers.
Not hers. Because that was impossible and a distraction he couldn’t afford to have. It was his broken dugga’s magic. That was all.
“All right,” she said, but it sounded more to herself than to him, and she stepped into the gate.
He followed. The black woolly nothingness surrounded him. Up and down vanished, so too did light and darkness, and then he stepped into the dimly lit alley he’d picked from the map app. Only a hint of streetlight cut this deep into the passage between the towering high rises, and cold air nipped his face and hands.
Becca staggered beside him, unsteady after stepping out of the gate, and he grabbed her to help her balance. His bare hand touched hers, and heated desire sizzled up his arm at the sudden contact. She gasped and jerked free of his grip, pressing that hand to the concrete wall beside her.
Here, in the darkness, her aura blazed. The force of her power slid against his senses and stole his breath, even more compelling than that brief touch. He’d felt the same sense of awe and surety of his bond with his first inamorata.
Damn it, his only inamorata.
He tried to step back and put some distance between them, but his body didn’t move, as if the thought had gotten stuck in his head.
Her gaze lifted to his, her red power shimmering in the depths of her dark eyes, with not even a hint of a flicker in her aura indicating she was human. So much power. Her expression tightened, forming tiny lines at the edges of her eyes. So much pain. He had to take the pain, carry it for her, hold her, give her the strength to kill her demons—
“Nero,” she said, her husky alto shivering through him and making his heart skip a beat.
Her hand landed flat against his chest, sending another shock of attraction zinging through him, and he realized he’d stepped toward her, not back.
God damn it. It was as if his body and soul had a mind of their own, and that only added more evidence to the being inamorated side of the argument. If he wasn’t careful, it was going to be him having the breakdown and not Becca.
He forced himself back a step. Surely he could control himself long enough to fulfill the terms of their deal and get her back to Raven. Then he’d make himself leave her and not return.
That thought made his insides squirm, and he clenched his jaw. Finish what you promised. Leave her. Don’t return. It was the only way.
“Where’s this meeting place?” he asked, with more growl than he’d intended.
She pursed her lips and looked ready to argue — probably about his tone — but glanced up and down the alley instead. “Which way is Liberty?”
“That way.” He pointed behind her. A step closer and he’d be able to touch her again, brush a hand through her hair, caress her cheek—
Jeez.
“There’s a greensp
ace across from the train station.” She headed to the alley’s mouth.
Nero followed, determined to keep his distance, no matter what his churning insides were saying. If he gave in and did anything, he was going to feel like an idiot once the Handmaiden fixed his dugga’s magic. Not to mention it wasn’t fair to Becca. She had to have a mess of complicated emotions racing through her. He didn’t need their mental connection to know that. He’d also tried to kill her, and he doubted she’d forgotten. Besides, she’d stabbed him, which meant she wasn’t inamorated back.
A shiver shook her, and he clenched his hands into fists at his sides before he could wrap her in an embrace to steady her. Mother, all he wanted to do was hold her and never let go.
“If Werner’s around, he’ll be near the greenspace,” she said, reaching the alley’s mouth and turning onto the street.
It was only nine at night, and there were still a few pedestrians and enough traffic that Nero was glad he’d picked the middle of the alley to form his gate and avoid notice. The streetlights glimmered off ice patches on the sidewalk and along the gutters on the road, while a frozen wind gusted, caught between the high rises. Ahead of them sat the greenspace, with half a dozen trees and boxy shrubs, their branches naked for the winter, along with a couple of benches and no one around.
Nero glanced across the street to the train station. On this side, all he could see was a multi-story parking garage and a big sign indicating an entrance solely for buses. No one with Werner’s yellow aura loitered there, either. And there was no way Nero was going to activate his dugga’s magic to find the mage, not until the Handmaiden had returned and fixed him. A seizure right now not only endangered him, but Becca as well.
“There’s a twenty-four-hour coffee shop over there. With this cold, he might be there.” She headed past the trees and shrubs to a towering white and gray building. The front windows on the left side of the main entrance were lit, revealing a cozy café in browns, burgundy, and chrome, and half a dozen people seated inside.