The Dragon Witch

by Drako

  Jarel smirked. “Yes, I did, and it wasn’t because he asked me to. Brandon wanted to tell you all, but unfortunately Anaya is from a race I have little to no say over. Their patroness has more or less forbidden her creations from interacting with mine. One of the Fae was never supposed to conceive a child with a dragon or a demon. Brandon is both. To prevent the storm that would have come from Verlaine’s wrath, assuming she finally deemed it worth her time to show herself, I hid it from all of you. Now that you know, and clearly Lucifer knows, there’s no more hiding it from her. However, I shall bestow my protection upon Anaya and Theo. Verlaine may hate me, but she knows better than anyone not to screw with me on this.”

  “I don’t understand the problem. Why are Fae to be kept separate from us?” Demun asked.

  Jarel gave him a dull stare. “Did you miss the part about Verlaine hating me? I could have sworn I said that loud and clear.”

  Demun rolled his eyes. “No need for sarcasm. I heard that loud and clear.”

  “I think what he means, Father, is that Verlaine’s behavior is strange. Desdemona hates your guts as well, but she’s never said a dragon can’t conceive with a demon,” Andreas told Jarel.

  “Verlaine is very different from Desdemona in more ways than one,” Jarel replied.

  “If you haven’t noticed, you rarely meet any of Verlaine’s creations in the mortal world,” Brandon added. “She doesn’t want them interacting with us, demons, or mortals really. The Fae, the angels, and the dwarves, these are all her creations. And even if you saw them, most times, you wouldn’t know it. You’d mistake them for very beautiful mortals. Depending on which of the races they are, you’ll feel a strange pull towards them. The Fae especially tend to make weaker willed people forget whoever they’re with. They’re consumed with the urge to be with the Fae. It’s generally a very strong lust, not love.”

  “Is that how it was for you with Anaya?” Kazarian asked.

  Something flashed in Brandon’s eyes, but was quickly smothered. “No, it was more than that. Apparently I have a certain appeal to her kind similar to what they have on everyone else.”

  “Now, boys, we have other matters to discuss. There was a reason Andreas asked for this little training session.” Jarel looked at both of his grandsons. “You should feel it by now. It’s a strange feeling, like you’re too big for your own skin. It’s also part of the reason your bond broke so easily.”

  “You’re coming into your transition, the point where your alternate form will finally be revealed,” Andreas added. “For this, you had to be here instead of the mortal world.”

  “I suppose two huge dragons would be out of place in St. Louis,” Demun muttered.

  “Well, here’s the thing. We don’t know what you’ll be.” Andreas scratched his head. “However, it seems likely you won’t transition into the huge dragon form I possess.”

  Brandon looked puzzled. “But we’re dragons, aren’t we? I thought all of Gramps’ descendants turned out that way.”

  “You boys are very different from your aunt and uncles. In fact your development is more like my other children, the Dragon Gods.”

  “Wait, the other Dragon Gods are your children?” Demun questioned.

  Jarel nodded. “Yes, half of them are mine, and half of them are Zarel’s children. Mine are mothered by Gaea and his are mothered by Nyx. Only after them did I decree that all children of the Dragon Gods would be dragons in nature, no matter their parentage. My decree does not necessarily apply to our descendants further down the line.”

  “So what does that make us?” Brandon asked.

  “Unique,” Jarel answered. “You will have an alternate form. But whatever that form is, it will be unique to you. Here, at least, we have the freedom to see it and figure out how to control it.”

  “Control it? Did everyone else lose control of themselves in their alternate forms?” Demun asked.

  Andreas shook his head. “No, but your father’s transformation was painful because of his demon blood. We’re not sure how you’ll do with the added human blood in you. And we’re not entirely sure when the transformation will take place. We just know it has to happen soon.”

  “And with this transformation will come far more power than you have now,” Jarel warned.

  Brandon and Demun couldn’t hide their shock. How much more power did they really need?

  “I told you boys you were special, and you’ll need all this power for what fate has in store for you.” Jarel smiled. “You will remain here for a while though. All the power you’re going to have will take time to learn to control. Your uncle will be working with you here, and your aunt will take you out into the field with her on this mission when necessary.”

  “That leaves one loose end, Gramps,” Brandon said quietly.

  Jarel took several seconds to respond. “Yes, there is the matter of Adonis. He too, has a destiny to fulfill, and sadly today’s events are a large part of it.”

  “I’m supposed to be protecting him, remember?” Brandon gave his grandfather a pointed stare. “Unless you’re keeping him here too, I can’t do that.”

  “For now, that is hardly an issue. Adonis won’t be thinking of leaving anytime soon. And when he does…” Jarel paused, clearly hesitant to continue.

  Brandon stared at him, silently pleading him to continue.

  “Well, things will unfold as they will,” Jarel finished. “For now, focus on yourself. Adonis will deal with everything and make moves as his destiny allows.”

  “I hate when you go all cryptic on me,” Brandon mumbled.

  “I hate to be cryptic most times, especially when I know as much as I do, but to tell you what I know is to alter fate and probably make it even worse. We gods guide you, but in the end, it is your choices that make your fate what it is.” Jarel vanished.

  “And on that note, we have more work to do here just to prepare you for the transition.” Andreas stood up. “Now, we’re sparring again and again until you boys get it right. You’re going to be in some serious pain when we’re done but it’s necessary to make sure you can control yourselves during transition.”

  The boys stood up as well, bracing themselves. Each had their own thoughts consuming them, but in the end, they were equally focused on the same goal.

  Twenty Two

  Victoria led Ares into a bar in the village of the wolves, Fatima. Immediately, all eyes turned on her. She was well known as the only daughter of Jarel throughout Solaris, and her presence here was unexpected. She walked up to the bar and spoke to the bartender.

  “You know I wouldn’t be here without reason. I need some information on some rogue wolves in league with the warlock Balthas. Have you heard anything?”

  The bartender shook his head. “We haven’t heard anything about rogues here. You know rogues don’t stay on Solaris. They flee into the mortal realm.”

  “Don’t play stupid with me. I need to know which of the wolf tribe leaders is now rogue and I’d rather not have to ask your father for the information. You know how he gets if I have to go to him when someone else had some information for me.”

  Ares smirked at the nervous look the bartender gave her. Clearly, Victoria was going to get what she wanted to know out of him. All he had to do was stand and watch. A few minutes later, she turned and headed for the exit.

  “Did you find out what you needed to know?” Ares asked.

  “I found out enough,” Victoria answered. “Now let’s get out of here. I have some more wolves to see, and bitch slap.”

  Ares gave her a questioning look.

  “I’m not real patient with werewolves in general, and I need information on the head of this line of rogues to give to Father.” She quickly led the way out of the bar.

  “So, where are we headed now?” Ares asked.

  “I’m going to kick in a door and choke out a wolf until he tells me what I want to know,” Victoria answered.

  Ares laughed. “Am I to continue to sit back and watch?”
<
br />   “You will if you like your balls where they are now.” Victoria walked off.

  Ares laughed again. There was never a dull moment with this woman.

  Victoria came to a stop in front of a small house in the village. It was more of a cottage really, and frankly the sight of it pissed her off.

  “Do you know the owner of this house?” Ares asked.

  “He’s a good part of the reason I hate wolves.” Victoria continued to the door and kicked it in.

  Inside was a short, solidly built man with long brown hair and bright green eyes. His skin was pale and got paler as he saw Victoria.

  “Oh, crap!” he scrambled to his feet.

  “Don’t run, you little fleabag!” Victoria shot forward into the house as the small man tried to run.

  Ares laughed hysterically as he heard several crashes inside the house, ending with one final thud of a heavy body hitting the floor. Deciding it was safe to enter, he walked through the door to find the man face down on the floor with Victoria’s knee I the center of his spine and his arms pulled behind his back.

  “You know how I hate chasing you, Varn, so stop making this difficult.” She wrenched his arms back harder. “You’ve got information I need, damn it, so spill it before I rip your arms off and beat you with them.”

  “I do believe it will be difficult for him to speak with his face planted in the ground,” Ares told her as he leaned against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest.

  “I can hear him just fine.” Victoria wrenched back again. “Are you ready to talk yet? You know you can’t get free.”

  Ares couldn’t distinguish what the smaller man said, but it was enough to get Victoria to release him and let him up.

  “Must you always be so rough every time I see you?” Varn asked as he pushed himself to his feet and brushed himself off.

  “So long as you live here so comfortably and withhold information, yes I do,” Victoria responded gruffly. “Now, start talking. Who’s the leader of these rogue wolves?”

  “He’s an upstart. He’s not a direct descendant of Fenrir. He’s a human that was converted to be with his woman. His name is Jamie Kitsakis. He was turned by his female, a rather feisty young woman by the name of Ashlyn.”

  “What happened to her?” Victoria asked.

  “She was a demon huntress. It seems she ran afoul of Desdemona and was slain.” Varn went to his freezer in the kitchen and pulled out an ice pack, which he put on his forehead where a bruise was starting to form. “Jamie was filled with grief. Apparently he was enraged that your father did nothing to save her.”

  Victoria scowled. “I don’t even have to know them to know that’s bullshit.”

  “When does your father ever really step in to save his warriors?” Varn countered.

  “When the odds are not in their favor, meaning Desdemona couldn’t have personally killed the girl.”

  Ares cleared his throat. “She does have a point. No wolf, even Fenrir, would be able to stand up to Desdemona. At the slightest indication of her direct interference, Jarel would have stepped in to save her. Meaning she must have indirectly killed the girl, and it must have been fated for her to die in such a manner.”

  Varn shrugged. “It’s not my problem. I’m merely explaining the guy’s logic. I’m far more comfortable here living out my life away from the petty squabbles.”

  “And yet you always know what’s going on,” Victoria stated.

  “It pays to be well informed.”

  “So clearly this wolf isn’t dumb enough to try to hide directly under my father’s nose. So where is he?” Victoria demanded.

  “If I knew that, I’d have given the information to your father to spare myself the pain of your presence,” Varn answered.

  “Keep talking and I’ll add a few more bruises and break your ribs just for kicks.”

  Ares laughed. “Come on, Victoria, we’ve gotten all we can get from him. There’s no need to continue torturing him.”

  Victoria glared at him. “We didn’t get much, and he always knows more.”

  “It’s rather hard to lie or withhold information when one stands face to face with a god,” Varn told her. “And Ares is not known for him mercy.”

  Victoria headed towards the door but stopped and turned back. “I’d suggest you find me some more intel as soon as you can, or next time we’ll have a real misunderstanding.”

  Varn smirked at her. “I’ll do what I can, my lady.”

  Ares followed her out. “So, where to now?”

  Victoria huffed, blowing her hair back from her face. “I need to let off some steam. I’m going to see Andreas.”

  Andreas and the boys were still working on the beach. The sparring wasn’t faring well for the boys. Andreas had worked them over thoroughly. Every time they came together and seemed to gain an advantage, Andreas got that much stronger and fought back harder. The boys were bruised all over and just at that moment, breathing was getting difficult. As they knelt in the sand, breathing heavily, Andreas stood over them. He was sweaty, just like them, but he didn’t have a scratch or bruise on him.

  “Not the worst training session I’ve ever had, but far from your best, boys.” Andreas folded his arms across his chest. “Your power is growing, but your technique needs some more work.”

  Kazarian appeared at his side, having watched from a distance. “Don’t you think that was a bit rough?”

  Andreas narrowed his gaze on his lover. “I don’t go easy on anyone. I didn’t go easy on their aunt or uncles, and I won’t go easy on them either.”

  “He definitely didn’t go easy on us.”

  They turned to see Victoria standing with Ares, her sword in hand.

  “Little sister must have had a rough day if she’s here to spar.” Andreas smirked and took Kazarian’s sword. “Let’s go.”

  Victoria charged forward and Kazarian backed away just before Andreas swung his sword up to meet hers. Victoria went on the attack and Andreas simply parried her attacks. It wasn’t easy, especially with her current mood. She made a slash that knocked Andreas’ hand to the side and then used the opportunity to kick him in the chest. Andreas stumbled back and she charged forward, this time with a flipping kick that caught him in the jaw and knocked him to the ground. Andreas spun his waist around and as she landed, kicked her legs from under her. Victoria caught herself with her free hand and flipped back to her feet. Andreas sprang up and their swords met again.

  “Shouldn’t we have been almost as much of a challenge to him as she is?” Brandon asked.

  “Especially since we were together,” Demun added.

  “Your aunt is a very special woman,” Ares told them. “And she has thousands of years of experience over you. She trained with Andreas for years before being allowed out into the field. Any lesson he’s trying to teach you, he’s already taught her.”

  “That doesn’t mean she has nothing to learn either,” Kazarian commented. “In her temper, she gets reckless, and that can spell her doom.”

  As he spoke, Andreas disarmed her and planted his fist in her abdomen, knocking her to the ground several yards away. Andreas grinned down at her.

  “Dear sister, you’re a thrill as always, but show me what else you can do now.”

  Victoria sprang to her feet again, more than ready to do as he asked. Muttering in the mysterious language of the Craft, sand sprang up in a whirlwind and shot towards Andreas. Andreas grinned as lightning encircled his hand and he struck the ground. The ground cracked as the lightning shot across the clearing to intercept the whirling sandstorm. As Andreas straightened up, he turned and was kicked in the side of the head by his younger sister, who had come after him rather quickly. He spun around in the air and lashed out with a kick to her jaw, knocking her off her feet as well. Both siblings hit the ground together, bracing themselves on their hands, and pushed themselves up. Sand burst up and surrounded them, hiding them from view.

  “This is some training session,” Demun comme
nted.

  “It’s very interesting to watch,” Ares said as his eyes followed the action through the sandstorm caused by the clashing powers of the siblings. “I’ve never been allowed to watch dragons train. Andreas took the methods used to train him and expanded on them to train his siblings. After all, the Spartan way to train is to keep coming at them until the child learns to defend himself. Their innate warrior instincts come to the forefront when someone comes at them with all their skill, with the promise of excruciating pain if they don’t defend themselves. Besides, the enemy doesn’t show mercy to the inexperienced.”

  “She’s fighting better than Eris did against Andreas,” Brandon stated. “Andreas totally demolished her. She never stood a chance. Our aunt on the other hand almost looks even with him.”

  “Almost?” Ares questioned.

  “You’re the god of war, surely you can see the difference.” Brandon was also gazing through the sandstorm. “I can see the difference between myself and my aunt, and I can see the difference between my aunt and uncle. My aunt is fighting because she’s frustrated. Andreas is letting her vent, but he’s fielding off every spell she casts. Calling him the most powerful of dragons isn’t a sign of flattery, it’s simple truth.”

  The sand finally settled and Victoria sent a spiraling stream of flames at her brother. Andreas leapt high into the air and sent a spiral of lighting at her. Victoria muttered a few words and the lightning hit an invisible wall and bounced back. Andreas was surprised as the lightning rebounded and struck him, sending him flying backwards. Victoria’s chanting never ceased as she raised her arms and a tidal wave of sand rushed up to meet and engulf Andreas.

  “That was a nice one,” Ares said with a smirk.

  “Too bad he’s not down and you know it,” Kazarian told him.

  Ares grunted but gave no other reply. As they stood, a bright light began to shine from under the sand and there was a small explosion as sand flew everywhere. Standing in the midst of the chaos, Andreas aimed his hands below him and lightning shot out, striking the ground and propelling him forward. He hurtled forward and tackled Victoria to the ground, and then jumped off of her. Landing several yards away, Andreas shot another bolt of lightning at her. As she stood, the lightning struck her in the chest and knocked her flat on her back. Moving quickly, he pinned her down before she could regain her composure and attack him again.