by Lili Zander
“It’s fine.” Mateo takes the bowl Pieter hands him. Placing his wrist over it, he slices his vein with the penknife. Blood falls into the bowl, and once again, it reaches to me, whispers that it’ll soon be a part of me, and I of it.
Erik goes next, his blood adding to Mateo’s. One by one, the others cut themselves, their blood trickling into the bowl. Pieter watches with interested eyes. “I mixed in ink when I made Aria’s do-not-notice tattoo,” he says.
“No need for ink.” Mateo’s familiar gold threads of magic are already dancing over the bowl, his magic shaping the ward. When he’s done, he nods to Pieter. “The magic will do what’s necessary.”
Pieter is holding up really well. He’s so interested in what Mateo’s doing that he’s forgotten to be terrified. “Where do you want your new tattoo, Aria?”
I stick out my right wrist. “See this mark?” I ask Pieter. “Can you make me a matching one on my left wrist?”
Mateo smiles at me. “I like that,” he says. “There’s power in pattern and in symmetry.”
Pieter studies the five-pointed Celtic knot, his fingers tracing its shape until he’s got the pattern figured out. “Let’s do this.” He wipes my skin clean and gets to work. In less than thirty minutes, we’re done.
“How does it feel?” Mateo asks.
I close my eyes. Back in the hospital, I could see Mateo and Casius in my mind. They’re there now, as are all of the others, bright and clear. We’re connected like we’ve never been connected before. “Pretty good.”
Rhys grins wickedly and moves closer to my ear. “Are you horny, love?”
I totally am. I blush, not because I’m being coy, but because of how easily he’s reading me. The need rages in my blood, demanding I take them all now. Let them claim me as mate. Claim them as mine.
Erik coughs and the spell breaks. “Wait for your turn, Griffith,” he says to me. “Aria, it’s almost four, and we skipped lunch. Want to grab something to eat, and then I’ll kick your ass at pool?”
“What about Pauline Summers in Queens?”
“I sent Tomas to track her down,” Bastian replies. “She’s not at the address CPS had. Understandable. It’s been more than twenty years. We’ll find her, but it might take us a few hours. There’s enough time for you to kick Erik’s ass first.” His mouth curves into a mocking smile. “He’s not that good, you know. I’ve beaten him more times than I can count.”
“Fuck you, Jaeger,” Erik replies easily. “Coming, Aria?”
To my surprise, I have a blast playing pool, drinking beer, and pumping Erik for information. “Do you have a castle too?” I ask him.
He chuckles as he bends over the table. His break is clean, and three balls fall into pockets, two stripes and a solid. “I don’t see you as a materialistic sort, princess.”
“Are you going to keep calling me that?”
His lips twitch. He lines up for his next shot and pockets another stripe. Damn Bastian. I thought Erik wasn’t supposed to be that good. “To answer your question, yes. The Valder family home is in Iceland. Near Drangajökull, in the northernmost tip of the country.”
He misses his next shot, and I chalk my cue stick and walk up to the table. “And your ancestors were Norse too, weren’t they?” I give him a sidelong glance as I try to decide on my target. “Let me guess. You’ve got Draupnir sitting in your vaults.”
Draupnir is a gold ring belonging to Odin. According to the legends, it can multiply itself. Every ninth night, eight new rings fall from the gold ring, each one the same size and weight as the original.
I’ve always thought that it was a mythological object, as real as the Holy Grail. Until Bastian casually mentioned owning Gungnir, Odin’s legendary spear. Now, I’m prepared to believe anything.
“Not Draupnir, no.” There’s something in his tone that makes me look up at him. “The most important artifact of the House of Valder is a hammer. Mjölnir.”
I totally miss my shot. My mouth falls open. “You have Thor’s hammer?”
He shrugs, though his eyes are dancing with laughter. “Dragons like their treasure, princess.”
No shit. I feel like I’m in the Twilight zone here. Good thing I have Brooke and Trendz tomorrow. Nothing like the grinding boredom of my job to pull me back to earth.
17
Aria
I have to work at Trendz at one, so Rhys says he’ll take me dress shopping in the morning. “Tasha’s an old friend,” he says. “She’ll open early if I ask nicely.”
“An old girlfriend?” Ugh. I sound jealous. Kill me now.
He chuckles. “Do I look stupid to you, love? Why would I take you to the boutique of an ex? Nope, Tasha used to be my assistant before deciding to pursue her passion.”
One of Tomas’ guards drives us to SoHo. The boutique appears deserted, but when Rhys taps at the door, it’s opened immediately, and a woman flings her arms around Rhys’ neck. “It’s so good to see you,” she says, before turning to me with a friendly smile. “And you must be Aria. Come on in.”
The two of us enter the boutique. The walls are covered with dove-grey silk. Enormous floor-to-ceiling mirrors hang on three sides, and the lighting manages to be both bright and flattering.
I’m having another Pretty Woman moment here.
Tasha is studying me. “Rhys did a pretty good job guessing your size,” she says, moving toward a rack of clothing. “I’ve pulled out a half dozen cocktail dresses that I think would be perfect.”
“Nothing black,” Rhys says promptly. “I don’t want Aria to blend in. She needs to stand out.”
I raise an eyebrow. Since when did Rhys have an opinion on what I wore? So far, he’s always seemed more interested in getting me out of my clothes.
“I hate being the center of attention,” I murmur to Rhys.
“Really?” His breath tickles at my ear. “I don’t remember you complaining when I was eating you out, love.”
I go beet-red, and Tasha notices. “Why don’t you try on anything that catches your eye?” she says to me, her voice kind. “If you don’t mind, I’m just going to the Starbucks next door to grab a cup of coffee. Can you lock the door behind me, so nobody wanders in?”
I flush even harder. “She knows we’re doing it,” I hiss to Rhys once she’s gone.
He chuckles. “I’m sure she does. Tasha was never stupid.”
This is mortifying, and Rhys is totally laughing at me. “I’m just here to try on clothes,” I tell him firmly.
“Of course, love,” he says agreeably.
Predictably, my resolve doesn’t last long.
I make sure the curtain is fully shut before pulling the royal blue dress over my head in the tiny changing room. I’m very aware that Rhys is just outside, and that we are completely alone. And of course, it’s turning me on.
Smoothing the dress over my hips, I step out of the changing room and walk to the three-sided mirror to take in my reflection. The dress fits like a glove, and the color makes my gray eyes pop, but it somehow doesn’t feel right.
“What do you think?”
Rhys shakes his head. “Try something else,” he suggests.
Tasha picked some beautiful dresses, and she stuck with Rhys opinion that I need to stand out. My eye keeps coming back to a shimmery silver silk dress. It’s deceptively simple in its design. From the front, the high neckline and hem that hits mid-thigh make it seem almost demure for a cocktail dress, but the back swoops down daringly low. I look through the dresses one more time, and come back to the silver.
It really is pretty.
I unhook my bra and pull the dress on. The fabric slides sensuously down my body, and I shiver at the sensation as the soft material moves over my bare nipples. I adjust the dress, then step out of the room.
Rhys tilts his head to the side and takes me in. His eyes land on my hardened nipples and turn heated.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“You look gorgeous, of course, but it’s not quite what
I had in mind.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Okay, I’ll try on another,” I say before turning to the changing room. The low growl that emanates from behind me as Rhys takes in the back tells me the dress might be a little more of what Rhys had in mind after all.
I don’t even make it the two steps back into the room when Rhys’ arms snake around my waist from behind, his breath hot against my neck. The fabric of his clothes against the nakedness of my back is a tantalizing feeling. It makes me want to rub all over him to enjoy the sensation. Like a cat.
Rhys’ hands move over the silky-smooth material of the dress. His hand travels up to cup one of my breasts, and he moves the other down my stomach where it stops just shy of my pussy.
Damn it. I’m slick with desire and practically panting with anticipation. Don’t stop, Rhys. Keep going.
Rhys tweaks my nipple, and all thought flies out of my mind. “I thought you didn’t like the dress,” I gasp as his erection throbs against my backside.
“I may have been too hasty in that decision, love.”
I giggle as he turns me in his arms so fast the room spins, and moan as his lips crash down on mine. He pushes me up against a wall, and kisses me, darting his tongue along my lower lip. His stubble tickles my skin, and I giggle again. “More,” I demand. I’m so greedy, and I don’t care.
Rhys makes quick work of removing the dress, and I almost protest when it hits the ground in a puddle. It’s going to be a wrinkled mess, but then Rhys’ mouth is on my nipple, and I no longer care.
Rhys licks from one breast to the other, sucking and nibbling at my stiff peaks until I’m mindless with the sensation. My pussy spasms when he draws one bud into his mouth and nips lightly. Holy shit, I could come just from this.
I bury my hands in his hair and pull him close to me, silently demanding more. He answers that demand by sliding his hand into my panties and thrusting two of his thick fingers deep inside my pussy.
“Rhys,” I cry out, my orgasm crashing through me at warp speed. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard or fast in my entire life.
He releases my nipple with a gentle flick of his tongue, and the arrogant dragon smirks at me as he licks his fingers clean. My mouth waters at the erotic sight. I want to taste him like he’s tasting me. I reach for his belt buckle, ready to fall to my knees and take his cock in my mouth when the tinkling sound of bells cuts through the silence in the store signaling Tasha’s return.
“Did you find something?” she calls from the front of the store.
I look at Rhys, panicked. It’s one thing to have sexy-times while in a very empty public place, it’s a whole other thing to be caught having sexy-times in a public place. Rhys, his eyes dancing with amusement, takes pity on me. He picks up the silver dress and backs out of the dressing room, closing the curtain as he leaves.
I quickly dress in my street clothes and make my way to the front of the store where Rhys and Tasha are chatting.
“Aria, it was so good to meet you,” Tasha says with such sincerity it’s hard not to want to like her, even though she totally cockblocked me. Well, technically, that’s not correct. I got to come. It’s Rhys that got cockblocked, though he seems to be taking it in his stride.
“I’ll have the dress pressed and delivered to the penthouse,” Tasha continues. Judging from Rhys’ amused eyes, I’ve probably turned about ten shades of red. I’m beyond relieved when Rhys leads me out of the store. “Oh my God, she knows what we were doing.”
“Probably,” Rhys says with a careless shrug. “She’s never been stupid. Does it matter?”
I think about it and then shake my head. I lace my fingers in his, and we head back to the penthouse.
18
Aria
Saturday morning, Tomas finally locates Pauline Summers in a retirement home in Flushing. “She’s got dementia,” he tells us. “The place only allows two non-family visitors at a time.”
“I’m going,” I say promptly.
I’m expecting one of the dragons to offer to accompany me, but surprisingly, Silas gets to his feet. “I’ll go with Aria,” he says. “Unless you’re expecting trouble?”
Bastian shakes his head. “I got word this morning,” he says. “Raedwulf and his buddy were sighted in Wyoming. They spent a night with the Sentinel Pack in the Medicine Bow National Forest.”
I look up. “Are you going to hunt for them?”
He shakes his head. “The most important threat is Zyrian.”
Mateo nods. “He tested the ward again last night,” he says. “Even with all five of us powering the magic, I’m concerned that the barrier won’t hold for long. The wolves can wait, tesoro. Our place is here. With you.”
I take a deep breath. If Zyrian enters my mind again, he’ll be able to find out everything I’ve discovered so far. Everything that was in my CPS file. All the foster homes I’ve lived in. And if he does…
The six of us don’t know what we’re looking for. All we have is the suspicion that I’m not Norm. But Zyrian is old and powerful. He might be able to piece together the puzzle of my identity faster than us.
His curiosity is the only thing keeping me alive. If he solves the mystery first, it’s lights-out for me.
Bastian insists we take his car, and I don’t fight it. It’ll take us more than an hour on the subway to get there, and Silas has dark circles under his eyes. It’ll be time soon for another transfusion of plasma.
We get into the car, and the driver starts moving. The ever-present guards follow us in their own vehicle, giving us a rare moment of privacy. I don’t begrudge their presence—they are keeping me safe, after all—but it’s still weird that someone’s always within earshot of me.
“How are you doing?” I ask Silas as we make our way out of Manhattan. “Are things too strange for you?” Silas is still living in a visitor apartment in the same building as us. He’s got to be feeling the same sense of dissonance that I am.
“I can’t complain, Aria,” he replies with a smile. “You’re safe, and you seem happy. Living out of a suitcase seems a small price to pay for that.”
“I am happy.” I give Silas a rueful look. “Five guys. You’re okay with that?”
“The marks are a sign from the fates, Aria, and I’m not foolish enough to fight them. Also,” he grimaces, “I try not to think about it too much.”
I laugh at his expression. “Forget me for a second,” I tell him. “You’re spending a lot of time with Eclipse Pack. Who is she?”
He gives me a startled look. “How did you guess?”
“Silas, I know you. Any other time, this situation would send you around the bend with worry, but you’ve been remarkably calm, all things considered.” I give him a sly grin. “What’s her name?”
“Sarina.”
“Do I get to meet her?”
He smiles. “It’s early days yet, but I hope so, little cub. You’ll like her. She’s nice. Funny as hell, too, and she swears like a sailor.”
For such a long time, Silas and I were a little family of two. Not anymore. Our Thanksgiving table is going to be pretty crowded this year.
If I survive until then. If Zyrian doesn’t kill me first.
The Cherry Blossom Retirement Home—who names these things anyway?—is a twelve-story brick building, squat and ugly. It’s nicer inside. The reception area is brightly lit, and the woman at the reception greets us cheerfully. “We’re here to see Pauline Summers,” I tell her.
“Room 531,” she says. “Though at this time of the day, she’s more likely to be in the dining room.”
“Okay.” I’m wondering how Tomas’ guards are going to get around the ‘two visitors only’ rule, but I shouldn’t have. Two of them start fighting in the lobby, and while the receptionist is distracted, one of them, a young panther-shifter called Dave, slips into the elevator with us. “Nicely done,” I tell him.
He blushes a little. “Mr. Vallin taught us that move.”
Pauline Summers is indeed in the dinin
g room. She’s short and round, with apple-red cheeks and short curly gray hair. Her blue eyes track us as we walk up to her. “Can we sit with you?” I ask her.
She nods, and Silas and I slide into the booth. “Do I know you?” she says. “My memory isn’t very good anymore.”
I swallow a lump in my throat. This woman took me in when I was two. She had been almost fifty then, according to my files, but she’d cared for me for four months before CPS had placed me in a ‘better’ home. I should remember her, but I don’t. It’s not just her memory that’s a problem. It’s mine too.
“Not really,” I reply. “My name is Aria. A long time ago, CPS placed me with you.”
“No, no.” She peers at me. “Aria was a little blonde girl. You’re not her.”
“Can you tell us about her?” Silas asks gently. “What was she like?”
Her expression becomes troubled. “That poor child,” she says. “She used to have terrible nightmares. She’d wake up screaming in the middle of the night.”
Really? Once again, I have no memory of this. “What was in her dreams?”
“Swords,” she replies, digging her spoon into the green jello in front of her with apparent enthusiasm. “Darkness. Death.”
I exchange a glance with Silas. “Endellion?” I whisper. “How is this possible?”
He looks as shaken as I feel. “Did you know who her mother was?” he asks the old lady. “Did Aria ever say anything about her?”
Her brows draw together in a frown. “No. Never.” She finishes her bowl of dessert and gives the empty bowl a sad look. My heart swelling with sympathy, I get up to get her a refill. When I get back, she smiles at me. “Thank you, child. I’m glad they finally let you out of that institution.”
My skin prickles. This is important. “The institution?”
“Or did you escape again?” She looks around the room. “Honey, it’s for your own sake.” Her voice softens with sympathy. “You’re babbling about prophecies and curses and magic. You tried to kill yourself. You tried to kill your daughter. You need help.”