by Katie Reus
When his feet touched the ground he immediately recoiled at the wetness. Looking down he saw a pool of crimson, the iron scent teasing his senses. Even above the sulfuric, rotten stench invading his nostrils, he knew that it was blood.
Covering the warm stone floors.
Another shudder rolled through him as he looked around, hoping to find clothes. His dragon clawed at him, demanding he change forms, but he wasn’t sure if that was a good idea yet.
He wasn’t sure about anything and he just wanted his mom and dad. They would make everything okay. More tears burned his eyes, but he blinked them back. Something primal told him he couldn’t cry here.
No tears, no fear, no weakness.
Before he’d taken a step, shadows bled from the darkness beyond the throne room, gaining substance as they drew closer.
Raw fear punched through him, his fire burning in his throat as his dragon clawed at him. He needed to shift, to escape. His mind was too jumbled as he tried to get control. The shadows grew into humanoid shapes as they closed in on him. He turned in a circle, looking for an escape. There were six of them.
He backed up to the altar, slipping on the blood as he moved, but he caught himself on the stone slab and hoisted himself up, his fingers numb as he climbed onto it. He had to shift and escape.
As he stood, ready to let his dragon loose, one of the dark shadows moved quicker than he’d ever seen anything do. It was ten feet away, then suddenly it was next to the altar.
A shadow-like hand grabbed Drake’s ankle and yanked hard. Thrown off balance he fell, his shoulder slamming against the altar with a harsh thud. The pain barely registered as the shadow thing wrapped long fingers around his neck.
The thing’s face split open to reveal razor sharp teeth and bright yellow orbs glowed evilly where eyes were supposed to be. “You are a tasty little morsel,” it hissed, its other hand moving down to grip Drake’s most private area.
He jerked under the punishing hold. No one had ever touched him there. Tears burned his eyes at the violation but instead of crying he opened his mouth and screamed, burning fire in the thing’s face in a long, hot stream of flames.
The shadow screeched as yellow liquid spewed everywhere and the thing dissipated. Drake shoved up and let his fear and instinct drive him. His dragon took over in a rush, his wings sprouting, his body transforming, the sharpest sense of adrenaline taking over as he took to the air.
All around him the shadow things tried to flee, but his beast wouldn’t let them. Swooping down he breathed fire as they tried to scurry away, refusing to let any of them hide. Their shadowy bodies incinerated, spraying out over the blood-soaked floor like fine black dust.
The predator inside him took over, gaining a stronger foothold. He must do this to survive. No weakness. Ever. The boy inside him cried out for his mother, begging her to find him, to save him.
But she never came.
Chapter Eight
Victoria’s heart broke a little as Drake sat next to her in the passenger seat, his expression stoic as he stared blindly ahead. He had a brother and sister. And they’d come for him.
It was clearly too much for him right now and she didn’t blame him. Not when she could imagine what he’d been through during his imprisonment. He hadn’t talked much about his time in Hell, but it was freaking Hell.
“How old were you when you, you know.” He’d never actually come out and said the words but he must have been sacrificed to have ended up in Hell. After what Bo had told her, he would have had to have been young. Or she guessed so anyway. The idea of him being thrown into endless suffering for more than a millennium filled her with a deep, burning rage. If she found out who’d done it, she’d kill them herself.
“Twelve or thirteen, give or take. It was so long ago.” His voice was monotone as he turned to look out the side window, away from her.
When he didn’t add more, she didn’t push. It wasn’t her right to know the details, or anyone’s for that matter. It was still early so instead of heading back to the mansion she made her way down Beach Boulevard, only stopping at a drive-through to grab two coffees. Drake didn’t question her as she continued until they reached the Biloxi Bay Bridge. She swung a left directly after they crossed it and looped back toward the quiet beach in Ocean Springs.
In the summer the place would be busy and curbside parking impossible to find, but it was an unusually cold February morning so she wasn’t surprised to see plenty of parking along the two and a half mile strip. Instead of driving down the rest of the road toward the marina, she parked right in front of the small yacht club. She figured he needed to walk off the energy she could feel rolling off him and being at the mansion surrounded by packmates wouldn’t make things easy on him.
Drake looked at her in surprise, but got out when she did, grabbing both their coffees. Because he always thought of stuff like that, always tried to take care of her in even the smallest ways. She hadn’t realized it when they’d first started spending time together. Obviously she’d noticed how sweet he was, but now she understood that he was acting the way a mate would. She rounded the front of the SUV and stepped over the calf-high stone barricade onto the sidewalk. “Want to walk?” she asked as he handed her one of the coffees.
He nodded, his beautiful gray eyes searching hers for a moment, before he held out an arm.
Softly smiling, she looped her arm through his and inhaled the ocean air and hot, delicious coffee as they walked parallel to the flat sand and calm Intracoastal waterway. She remained silent, letting him relax, knowing he’d talk when he was ready.
“I shouldn’t have left like that,” he muttered after a few minutes of walking.
She squeezed his muscled forearm. “I don’t think there’s a rulebook for how to behave in a situation like this.”
“I’m angry at them.”
“I know.” She didn’t blame him. Didn’t think anyone could.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have burned a hole in Bo’s club.”
“Two holes.” It had been terrifying and impressive when he’d done it. And totally heartbreaking to see him in such clear agony. Her wolf had wanted to shred into ribbons anyone who had ever hurt him.
He let out a rusty sounding laugh. “I do feel a little bad about that.”
“Want to sit?” She motioned to a bench along the walkway.
“Yeah.”
“The male looked a lot like you,” Victoria said as they sat, both facing the ocean. The sky was one of those clear blue days without a cloud to be seen.
“I think so too. And the female triggered something in my memory. As if she’s familiar to me. Doesn’t mean I flat-out believe them.”
“We could do DNA testing.” Worked exactly the same for supernaturals as it did for humans.
He grunted and was silent for a long moment as they stared out at the water. Finally, he spoke. “The first time I saw someone tortured in Hell I cried out for my mother. I don’t even know if I have one. Or had one. But that memory sticks out more than anything else. I called for her over and over and she never came. No one did. I don’t…know why I’m telling you. Or why I’m even thinking of it now.” His words stunned her, his voice so remote it shredded her.
Victoria’s throat was tight as she set her coffee behind her on the bench table. Without asking if it was okay, she stood then sat in his lap, wrapping her arm around the back of his neck as she embraced him. She was pretty sure there weren’t any words she could say now to take away his pain but she could hold him. She just wished she had some magic healing power to take away all his emotional pain.
Thankfully he returned her embrace, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply. “Victoria.”
The way he said that one word, like a prayer, made her grip him tighter. No matter what happened with his family or anything else, she was glad he had no problem leaning on her. Because she would never let him down.
* * *
Conall eyed the newcomers carefully, not making any a
ggressive moves. He didn’t need his weapons. Not when he could breathe fire. But he knew who these shifters were and fire wasn’t going to stop them.
Finn Stavros, powerful shifter leader of the Stavros pack. Gabriel, his Guardian, and two warriors with him. The female warrior made him do a double-take as the strangest vibrating sensation welled in his chest, but he kept his focus on the Alpha. He wasn’t going to be attacked because of stupidity.
The Alpha’s icy blue stare cut through Conall for a moment before Stavros looked at Bo Broussard, the owner of the club. A half-demon Stavros allowed to operate in his territory. It was interesting how many supernatural beings lived in harmony in this location. The Alpha was also mated to a blood-born vampire. Which was very interesting. It gave him hope they’d be able to negotiate together without violence.
“May we use your club to discuss a few things in private?” Stavros asked Broussard. Even though the shifter phrased it as a question it was clear to everyone the Alpha wasn’t asking.
Broussard sighed as if this was an everyday hassle and nodded. “Yeah. Grab anything you want from the bar too,” he said as he waved a hand at the ceiling.
Conall raised his eyebrows as the hole in the ceiling mended itself and the dusty mess on the floor vanished. When he glanced at Stavros it was clear the Alpha had never seen the half-demon do something like that. After he gave the gaping hole in the front door the same treatment, Broussard headed for a red door. When he reached it, he turned and looked at them. “Unless this place is on fire, I would appreciate it if no one disturbs me.” Without another word, he disappeared through the door, closing it softly behind him.
The four others pinned Conall and Keelin—who was being unusually quiet—with their stares.
Stavros stepped forward and nodded at the wall of empty booths. “Talk with us?” Again, not exactly a question.
Conall nodded. “Of course.”
Conall and Keelin sat in the rounded booth while the Alpha sat across from them. The three others stood nearby, giving them space. Against his will, Conall found his gaze drawn to the female with the wild hair and beautiful light mocha skin once more.
Her amber eyes were bright, her wolf gleaming in them as if she considered him an enemy. It shouldn’t have bothered him, but for some reason it did. He would analyze it and that annoying vibrating inside him later.
Frowning, he looked at Stavros. “We apologize for entering your territory without asking. Circumstances prevented it.”
“Why were you flying over my compound early this morning?” The question was casual as the Alpha threw an arm back against his side of the booth. But there was no denying the edge to his words, not when his wolf glittered in his eyes.
Conall’s frown deepened and he glanced at his sister. They hadn’t gone anywhere near the Alpha’s compound in dragon form. “Neither I nor my sister have flown over your compound. Ever.”
The male’s eyes narrowed a fraction, but Conall wasn’t lying and wouldn’t put off the acidic scent associated with an untruth. “Then who was it?”
“I don’t know.” But if there was another dragon in the territory, that concerned him greatly. No one knew why his brother had been locked in Hell or who had done it. Of course no one knew he’d been locked there in the first place until months ago. “What did this dragon look like?”
“Cobalt blue body, white-gold wings.” A succinct response.
Conall liked that the Alpha didn’t make small talk. In order to gain this male’s trust to a certain degree he needed to be forthright. Which meant revealing more about his kind than he cared to do, but it was necessary to bring his brother home. “That sounds like a Moana dragon. They live near the water, but make their homes on land. My clan is not at war with them. Was the dragon hostile?”
Stavros shook his head.
“They’re the least violent of all of our kind,” Keelin said, her voice shaky and he could guess why. She was still reeling from their brother’s anger toward them. “They wouldn’t attack without a reason. It’s possible they heard about a dragon living here with a shifter pack and were simply curious.”
Keelin had been so excited and hopeful to find their brother and likely hadn’t expected the reception they’d just had. Not that he blamed his brother. And he knew without a doubt after seeing the male that they were related. Even if they didn’t look so similar, he felt the connection in his bones. Once he discovered who’d put his brother in Hell, he was going to avenge him and make the guilty party suffer for an eternity.
“Why did it take you so long to come for your brother?” The way Stavros said the word brother made it sound as if he didn’t believe they were actually related.
Conall reined in his anger, but Keelin shifted against the seat, her agitation clear. “We couldn’t exactly take out an ad online,” she snapped. The mini outburst was unlike her. Normally she was the most diplomatic of everyone in their clan.
“I thought you felt him.” There was a slight edge of sarcasm in his voice.
“We did, when he reemerged into the world. But we’re not telepathically connected on a continuous basis.” Conall’s throat tightened as he thought of how long his brother had been locked away. How none of them had known, had just been living their lives. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Their parents had gone into a deep sleep hundreds of years ago, their mother still mourning the loss of her oldest son and unable to take the grief. Conall wondered if she knew he was back. He’d never gone into a Protective Hibernation before so he wasn’t sure how connected sleeping dragons were to the rest of their clan. Though he doubted she or his father knew about Drake’s re-emergence. They would have returned by now.
“What do you want with him now?” Stavros demanded.
He blinked at the question. “To bring him home where he belongs. We are his family, his clan.” And he was next in line to rule since their father was in a Protective Hibernation and had stepped down. Conall was the current leader of their clan but would give the position to his brother. It was rightfully his.
“You didn’t do a very good job of protecting him before,” the one named Gabriel said, his voice dry.
Before Conall could respond, Keelin jumped up, shoving the round table in the half-moon shaped booth out of their way so that nothing separated them and the Alpha. But her ire was directed at Gabriel as her eyes burned like liquid silver. “I was five and my brother was ten! He was our protector, our big brother. Then he was just gone one day. We didn’t know or we would have razed this entire fucking planet to the ground to find him.” The bitter words from his peaceful sister rattled him.
Even if they were true.
Conall tensed as the male stared at his sister with an unreadable expression. Conall remained still, waiting to strike, but Gabriel gave one short nod and said, “I apologize.”
Still humming with anger, Keelin didn’t respond as she sat back down. She’d come out of a deep sleep a year ago and was still adjusting to this world. Sometimes he wondered if she’d been too sheltered. But that sure as hell wasn’t the issue he needed to worry about now.
“What’s your clan name? And what’s Drake’s real name?” The Alpha had barely moved from his position, even when Keelin had freaked out. As he spoke again, every line in his body was pulled taut.
“I’ll not tell you my clan name before I’ve spoken to my brother again.” As for Drake’s name, that was an odd question. “His name is Drake. Dragos after our father, but we called him Drake for short.”
The Alpha’s mouth curved up the tiniest fraction but it was the beautiful female who laughed. “Holy shit. Looks like Vega was pretty spot on.”
Conall frowned at the Alpha. “What does she mean?” he asked, refusing to look at the female. She was too much of a distraction.
Stavros’s stare was intense. “When Drake came out of Hell he didn’t know his name or much about his history. I didn’t realize it at the time though. Vega, my daughter, covered for him and told us his name was Drake.”
The sharpest sense of sadness invaded Conall. His brother hadn’t remembered his own name? Oh yes, whoever had put his brother in Hell was going to pay. He was going to strip away everything the guilty party cared for and make sure they suffered as Drake had.
Chapter Nine
Victoria was careful driving back to the mansion, even putting the SUV on cruise control when she could so her lead foot wouldn’t get out of control. Drake didn’t seem to notice though.
After he’d told her about that horrible memory, he’d been even quieter than normal. They’d sat watching the water for a while before taking a long walk down the beach strip then cutting through one of the historic neighborhoods and walking around the small downtown area of shops. He hadn’t talked much, not about anything important anyway. Certainly not about his supposed siblings.
But she was pretty sure he wanted to. Just as she was certain they were related to him. The other male, whose name she still needed to find out, looked too damn similar to Drake for there not to be a familial link.
As they pulled up to a red light, she tapped her finger against the steering wheel.
“What’s wrong?” Drake asked, turning away from looking out the passenger side window.
“When I went to Bo’s he told me about a blood-born vampire in Tennessee who might know more about dragons. He said the male was bat shit crazy—his words, not mine—but might be able to help with information on dragons. He also said to take backup, meaning you.”
“That’s why you went to see him?”
She nodded. “I didn’t tell anyone because the pack still tries to coddle me sometimes. I just wanted to do what I needed to do, then come back to the mansion. Without an escort.” Even though she was a grown woman who’d used her healing gift on most of them at one time or another, they treated her like a seventeen year old cub sometimes. It was because she was in her twenties where most of them were decades older. In some cases older than that. Just because she understood their reasoning didn’t mean it wasn’t annoying. She loved that Drake had never treated her that way. “I knew Bo would be more willing to talk if it was just me.”