The Fifth Moon's Assassin (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 5)

by Monica La Porta

  “Nobody has seen two of Lauren’s lady’s maids since the fire.” Valerian took another gulp before raising the water bag higher up over his mouth and shaking it to catch the last drop. Gage handed him his canteen, which Valerian accepted with a thankful nod.

  “And why am I hearing of this only now?” Dragon asked, smashing his hand against the column.

  “Because I’ve just discovered it myself and came straight to tell you.” Valerian wiped the canteen’s mouth with the heel of his hand and passed it to Gage. “I thought you’d want to deal with it personally.”

  Dragon pushed himself off the column, patting his leather pants and raising a cloud of dust that made him sneeze for the hundredth time that day. He looked at Gabriel, who had lowered himself to the floor. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”

  Gabriel nodded before turning to his lieutenant.

  Followed closely by Valerian, Dragon strode across the internal garden where gardeners kneeled on the scorched earth, digging for viable roots that had somehow survived the heat. The old guest quarters had opened directly into the green oasis, but they now occupied a small portion of the adjacent porch and were accessible only from the external walkway that started from the garden.

  Crispy saplings crunched under Dragon’s boots as he directed his tired legs outside. The scene that welcomed him when he stepped into the new guest quarters made him swear.

  Several girls sobbed, talking all at once when they saw him. One of them threw herself at his feet, crying, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Someone lied,” Dragon said, sidestepping the girl and stopping in the middle of the passageway, now filled with makeshift beds. He saw Gilda among the multitude of people crowding the porch and motioned for her to come closer.

  The princess acknowledged him before saying something to the lady’s maid she had been talking to. She stepped away from the girl, who lowered her head in a formal curtsey.

  At his side, Valerian stiffened. “Gilda immediately called me when she realized two girls were missing,” he said.

  “I only want to ask her a few questions,” Dragon reassured his friend.

  As the princess moved around people and pieces of furniture, it became evident that she too was in dire need of rest. Her posture was slouched, her dress ruined beyond redemption, and a deep line furrowed the space between her eyes.

  Gilda’s mouth was a thin line in a pale face. “I was talking with Lyra about Mirna and Lorina. They are best friends, but until now, I couldn’t locate Lyra and ask her when she saw her friends the last time. She just came back from helping in the kitchens.” She brought her hand to her temple, moving aside a lock of hair that had escaped her unadorned braid.

  Valerian stepped toward her when she slightly wavered on her feet, but she gently shook her head and stopped him before he could reach her.

  Dragon observed the silent exchange between them and pretended not to notice. “What did the girl say?”

  “She was evasive, but it looks like Mirna and Lorina followed Lauren when she stormed out after our argument. A few minutes before the first blast, Lyra caught them here, on the porch, talking to a man, one of Martelli’s household servants, and Lorina made her promise not to say that she had seen them. Then the walls shook, the fires started, and she lost track of the girls.” Gilda crossed her arms under her chest, rocking on her heels.

  “Did Lyra see where Lauren was?” Dragon asked.

  Gilda nodded. “She said that Lauren was standing several meters away, with her back to them, looking at the sea.”

  Dragon followed Gilda’s eyes as she stared in the distance at the blue waters of the Sea of Tranquility, now littered with flotsam. “Does she remember anything else?”

  “She stopped talking as soon as she saw you.” Gilda absentmindedly caressed her arms. “She won’t say anything to you or Valerian.”

  Dragon sought the lady’s maid among the crowd. The girl’s auburn head bobbed up and down as she hastily turned and ran away.

  Valerian was immediately on the girl’s trail, parting the throng as he sprinted after her.

  Dragon swore. Instead of getting answers, the more they delved into this mess, the more lies they discovered. His plans to talk to the Academy were being thwarted at every turn, as if the universe wanted to prevent him from being reunited with Jade.

  21

  “Jewel?” Lady Lisandra’s voice reached Jade.

  She mentally swatted the irritating voice away as she dove deeper into the most beautiful dream she had ever had.

  Someone, a man, cradled her in his arms. She couldn’t see him, but he was big and made her feel safe as he caressed her swollen belly with gentle strokes. He whispered sweet words of love in her ear, and she leaned against him, craving the contact. His hand reached her chin and tilted her face up as his fleshy mouth reached down for hers. The kiss seared her lips, warming her from the inside out. It was like coming home after a long absence—

  A second and a third knock resonated inside her skull, dissipating the wonderful sensation of the man’s mouth against hers.

  “What?” she yelled.

  “The medicus is here to see you,” Lady Lisandra said from behind the door.

  Disentangling her limbs from the sheets, Jade backed against the headboard only to feel her world turn upside down when nausea seized her stomach.

  “Jewel?” Lisandra called. “Can we come in?”

  The only sound that escaped Jade’s mouth was a pained moan as she dragged herself to the edge of the mattress. She doubled over, hoping she would reach the bucket, and let her body take the lead.

  As she dry-heaved, the door cracked open, and Lady Lisandra yelped in surprise and burst into the room.

  “Rikes, come here!” the woman ordered, approaching the bed in a cloud of silk. Lady Lisandra’s perfume which had evoked images of summer only a few days earlier now prompted Jade to retch as another painful bout of nausea hit her.

  A man opened the door all the way and stepped inside. With the corner of her eyes, Jade saw that he looked at her intently. Belatedly, she remembered that she wasn’t wearing any concealing makeup on her face and that she hadn’t since the night before. It probably didn’t matter any longer since Lady Lisandra had already outed Jade, but if there was any doubt about her identity, now her secret was out, once and for all.

  “Give me something for this bug,” she croaked, directing her words to the portly medicus.

  “First pee in this cup,” Rikes said, walking toward her.

  Accepting Lady Lisandra’s hand, Jade straightened and saw the small, transparent container in the medicus’ hand. “What for?”

  “To determine what kind of bug you contracted,” the man answered, amusement in his voice.

  Rikes exchanged a glance with Lady Lisandra, and she gently squeezed Jade’s hand. “Just do as he says.”

  Jade swung her legs to the side, but dizziness wouldn’t let her stand. Lady Lisandra promptly helped her up and held her as they moved toward the bathroom. Only a few steps but it took forever.

  “I can manage now,” Jade said, facing the toilet.

  “Are you sure?” Lady Lisandra still supported her.

  Jade nodded. “Thank you.”

  It wasn’t as if she needed the privacy. At the Academy, people lived in communal quarters and shared bathrooms. But somehow, something at the back of her mind urged her to be alone, that this moment was important, and she always followed her instincts.

  “I’ll be just outside if you need me.” Lady Lisandra released her hold on Jade’s arm and extended the container to her.

  The bathroom’s ceiling and floor exchanged places as everything rotated around Jade, but she anchored her naked feet to the cold tiles and filled the cup.

  “Done,” she said a moment later, unable to stand.

  Lady Lisandra swept inside the bathroom, grabbed the cup from Jade’s shaking hand and moved aside to let the medicus carry Jade to the bed.

  “
Now you’ll tell me what’s wrong with me?” Jade asked after Lady Lisandra tucked her in.

  Rikes placed the container on the nightstand. “In a moment.” He walked back to the door and leaned to pick up one of those medicus bags that always looked too big. He rummaged inside before producing a vial he opened and poured into the cup.

  For a moment, everyone stared at the clear liquid of the vial mixing with the murkier content of the container. Silence stretched. Jade watched as a pale pink swirl colored the inside of the cup, progressively becoming darker and expanding until the entire cup was bright pink.

  Before Rikes spoke, Lady Lisandra murmured under her breath, “I knew it.”

  “You are pregnant,” the medicus announced.

  Jade felt numb, and at the same time, she felt too much all at once. Her heart galloped against her chest. How could she be pregnant? Her entire world was spiraling out of control, and she was about to faint. Cold. It was so cold, she couldn’t help but shiver uncontrollably. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Jewel? Are you okay?” Lady Lisandra asked.

  Jade was far from being okay but nodded, nonetheless.

  Lady Lisandra took Jade’s hand in hers and squeezed softly. “I know you just received the news, but what do you want to do about it?”

  Jade’s mind reeled with many questions, and yet she couldn’t voice one.

  “I apologize if I might sound pushy, and I know it’s not my business, but there’re a few decisions you have to make before it’s too late,” Lady Lisandra said.

  Frowning, Jade looked at the woman. What was she talking about?

  Lady Lisandra gave her a sympathetic gaze. “Are you going to keep the baby?”

  22

  Littered with debris, the waters bordering the perimeter of Martelli Mansion had lost their azure shade. The Sea of Tranquility looked everything but serene this close to the house. In the distance, though, the jewel tones of the ocean shone bright again.

  Looking at the sea, Dragon couldn’t help but hope that a solution to all his problems loomed close, because at the moment, fate didn’t seem to favor him.

  Valerian’s tall frame emerged from around the corner, his head towering over the crowd as he crossed the entire length of the porch in a matter of seconds. His somber expression gave away the result of his chase before he spoke.

  “Lyra disappeared,” Valerian said as he stood before Dragon. Water cascaded from his long, black hair onto his shoulders. His clothes dripped onto the wooden boards. “Too many scents—” He worked his jaw as his fists clenched and unclenched. “I saw her entering the kitchens’ destroyed wing, and a moment later, she was gone.”

  Valerian was Dragon’s best tracker. His skills were legendary on Solaria. During the Cavalier Games at the heights of the hunting season, the guards at Sol Manor bet on how long it would take for the lieutenant to find the princesses’ handkerchief. Not if Valerian would be the first to reach the hiding spot of the token, but when. The lacy piece of fabric, previously kissed by one of the maidens, could be anywhere in the entire Green Region, and Valerian had never failed to find it within hours.

  “She went underwater,” Dragon said. That was the only explanation. Water would cover any trace from a shifter’s sensitive nose.

  Valerian released a pent-up breath, his hand passing over the dark stubble on his jaw. “I thought so too, but when I looked under the balcony that opens out from that wing, I couldn’t see her. I dove, hoping that she was hiding beneath the board.” He shook his head, spraying water around him.

  Dragon wiped a few drops from his face. He was hungry, tired, thirsty, furious, all at the same time, and none of which he had time for. His woman was somewhere in the universe, alone, hunted by assassins, while he was forced to deal with terrorist attacks.

  Loud, booted steps resonated from behind him. Dark and menacing, Gage advanced toward them. Once more, Dragon thought that his lieutenant and Gabriel’s could pass for brothers.

  “TFPH sent their request,” the vampire said in a low timber, tipping his chin over his shoulder. “Valentine and Gabriel are in the studio.”

  “You stay here,” Dragon said to Valerian.

  His friend nodded, his eyes already cutting toward Gilda, who stood a few steps behind, organizing the night shift.

  “I’ll lend a hand here,” Gage said, relieving one of the lady’s maids of a heavy bundle the girl was trying to hoist on her shoulder.

  Dragon hurried inside and ran the length of the manor, across the burned down areas that were empty of people. He needed the time alone to center his thoughts. The physical exercise left him light-headed. That was a first. He was tapping at the reserves of his strength, but he still was a shifter, and a powerful one at that. Being tired or famished weren’t normal states for him, but he could still function for days if needed without faltering. Despite his strength, a foreign sensation gripped his stomach, and it felt like nausea.

  Dragon slowed his pace. Dull pain made him press his hand against his stomach. His mouth opened on reflex and he gagged. A moment later, as swift as it had come, the nausea disappeared, leaving him with an ache in his chest and a sense of hollowness. Burrowing deeper inside him, the new sensation hurt worse than the pain, but without a plausible answer to why and what was happening to him, Dragon pushed forward, resuming his jog.

  He exited the house proper and took the boardwalk extending into the sea. Ahead, Valentine waited for him under the shade of Gabriel’s studio porch. He stood sentinel over Mirella and Valemir who sat on a chaise lounge hugging the wall. The building was the only place that had not been reached by the fires, and Gabriel had reserved it for Valentine’s family.

  At the silent motion from Valentine to go inside first, Dragon entered the room before asking, “What do they want?”

  “The three of us,” Gabriel answered, waving a piece of paper at Dragon. “In separate places. At separate times.”

  “Or?” Dragon asked.

  “Or they’ll kill Lauren.” Valentine strolled past him and sat on the bench by the reinforced plasteel and glass wall shielding the room from the storms that attacked from that side during monsoon season.

  Dragon swore a long string of curses. The sting of a budding migraine prickled his temple, and he rubbed at the spot, only making it worse. Raw energy coursed through his body, consuming his strength, forcing him to pace across the room when he should have rested instead. His dragon hissed and bellowed, flapping his wings against the walls of his mental cage.

  “When?” Dragon asked.

  “Eleven days from now.” Gabriel stretched across his desk to pass him the terrorists’ note.

  Black typed letters on yellow parchment, the request was long and detailed, with the locations and times for each of their rendezvous. Valentine’s and Gabriel’s meetings would take place on the other side of the planet, in two different locations in Celestia City. The large capital occupied six islands connected through underwater bridges, and the terrorists wanted to meet Gabriel in the bridge close to the northern gate. Valentine would instead drive to the Sun Observatory on top of the central island. Dragon’s instructions were to fly to Eon, the only volcano of the aquatic planet, and wait by the transparent walkway that jutted from the scenic lookout the place was famous for. All three locations were tourist attractions and heavily used by Celestians as well.

  The whole scenario was a logistic nightmare of epic proportions, but the public sites weren’t the only reason for Dragon’s concern. He reread the note, mentally counting the days until the meet and swore again.

  “It’s the same date of my meeting with the Academy,” he said, staring at the note. “It can’t be a coincidence.”

  “No, there’s no such thing as a coincidence when all the dots align like this.” Gabriel groaned, a chagrined look on his face. “This only confirms that someone from my household is working with the terrorists.”

  “It could be someone from my entourage,” Dragon said. “I hate the idea, but it isn
’t like we haven’t seen what happened on Lupine. Valentine and I almost killed each other—” His hand went to the brand on his forearm, his fingers tracing the grooves etched on his skin, a memento of that terrible night when the werewolf challenged him to a duel to the death.

  “A servant can be bribed or threatened to do someone else’s bidding.” Valentine swallowed hard, his eyes looking outside for Mirella, who still sat with Valemir sleeping on her lap. She had her back to them, but looked at peace, lovingly caressing her child.

  The scene caused a bittersweet ache to take hold inside Dragon. He brought a hand to his chest and pressed it against his heart. If he were successful in his endeavors, the path he would travel didn’t include tender, familial moments.

  Valentine continued, “Mirella’s former lady’s maid almost cost me everything I hold dear.” He sat straight against the bench’s back, his body rigid as his hands grabbed the furniture, splintering the wooden edge. His bride turned as if sensing his turmoil and smiled at him. At that small gesture, his face lit and he smiled back, releasing his hold on the mangled bench. “I apologize,” he said to Gabriel.

  “Don’t fret about it.” The vampire dismissed the incident with a shrug. “I feel like smashing something myself.”

  “The girl who last saw the two lost lady’s maids has pulled a vanishing act herself.” Dragon related what Gilda had told him.

  “One of my servants was talking to them just before the first explosion,” Gabriel summed up.

  “And Lauren was present too, although by herself.” Valentine stroked his hair—he had finally let his mane grow to his shoulder. After the ceremonial shaving of his head in preparation for the duel with Dragon, the werewolf had kept his head shorn for a long time. He said Valemir liked to play with his locks, which had changed his mind.

  “So, do we play along?” Gabriel asked, pointing his chin at the piece of parchment Dragon was still holding.