Perilous: The Dragon’s Creed Series Book 3

by French, Katie

  “I’m going to find Black Rock.”

  “And do what exactly?”

  “Ask him why the frick he brought my dad here if they had no time to fix him. Why he brought us here through lies.” Anger was bubbling in my chest. I had to do something right now or I’d never sleep.”

  “Okay, then I’m coming with you.” She reached for her shoes, but I put a hand out to stop her.

  “As much as I’d like you there with me, you give off a vibe when he’s around. I need him to explain himself. It’ll go a lot better if you aren’t there throwing eye daggers at him.”

  “I don’t throw eye daggers.”

  I gave her a look.

  She threw her arms up, but didn’t argue. “You tell Captain Douche if he doesn’t make this right by you, he has me to deal with.”

  I smirked. An ancient, all-powerful dragon against my teenage, human friend. She was pretty bad-ass. “He’ll be quaking in his boots.”

  Slipping out of the door, I scanned the hallway. We were in the dormitory wing, as Black Rock called it, though it was nothing like the dormitories I knew. A beautiful long hallway held dozens of identical doors. But where was Black Rock? The boys were across the hall in two rooms and Dad was in the room that adjoined ours. He’d been examined by the medical staff and pronounced fine, if a bit shaken up. When I’d helped him into bed, he’d seemed anything but fine. Which is why we needed help. Now.

  Stalking down the hallways, I listened for Black Rock’s voice, but the walls must’ve been very thick. When I got to the end of the hall, a single door stood alone. The frame was wider, the trim more ornate. Nothing too ostentatious, but enough to set it apart. Someone special lived here. Someone by the name of Black Rock, I was betting.

  Raising my fist, I knocked.

  The door opened, and Ivy stood on the other side.

  She was dressed in a silver robe, her long, red hair loose and cascading down her back. Her pale skin appeared scrubbed fresh like she was ready for bed. She regarded me with that disdainful expression she seemed to love.

  “I figured you’d show up,” she said to my surprise. Then she stepped back. “Well, you’d better come in. We have some things to discuss.”

  Chapter 8

  I hung back, feeling like an idiot. Of all places, I’d walked straight to Ivy’s bedroom. It was like I had a death wish or something.

  “Well,” Ivy said, elongating the word.

  To be honest, I wanted to turn tail and run, but no way I was going to let this woman think I was a coward so, with a deep inhale of courage, I entered Ivy’s quarters.

  Two steps in, I froze.

  Crap! I wasn’t in Ivy’s bedroom—not unless she was into navy blue and grays for her interior decoration tastes, not to mention straight-line leather furniture, and medieval weapons as wall hangings. Ivy was tough, and I was all about gender neutral color schemes, but everything about the room screamed male… everything screamed Black Rock for that matter.

  So I’d rightly stumbled into Black Rock’s lair, though that didn’t make me less of an idiot. If anything, it made me a bigger one, if that were possible. I’d walked into Black Rock and Ivy’s… what? Late night booty call?

  I glanced around for signs that this was their shared bedroom, but it seemed unlikely. There was nothing feminine about the place—unless I took into account the beautiful slender woman in her elegant silver robe. She didn’t appear much older than me—maybe twenty or twenty-one—but she’d lived long enough to have the appearance of someone much more mature. And since dragons could live for decades, even centuries, and still look like twenty-five-year-olds, who knew how old, and therefore worldly and knowledgeable, she was. I tried to imagine how my teenage self looked next to her and couldn’t help but feel deflated.

  “Lila.” Black Rock stood from a sitting area at the end of the room. A fireplace flickered behind him, casting a warm glow into the dimly lit room. He wore a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up, a glass of wine in one hand.

  To say I felt like a third wheel was the understatement of the century. I was more like a flat tire wedged right in the middle of “the mood”.

  “I’m… I’m sorry to interrupt,” I stammered, then caught myself, remembering the anger that had brought me here. “But if it’s not a big inconvenience, I’d like to talk to you.”

  “It isn’t,” Black Rock said with a frown and a quick glance in Ivy’s direction. “I’m glad you’re here, actually. We’d like to talk to you. Please, take a seat.” He pointed at a leather wingback chair opposite his.

  I sat, placing my hands on jean-clad thighs to make sure I wouldn’t fidget. Ivy and Black Rock sat across from me, the coffee table that occupied the middle of the cozy sitting area between us. Warmth from the fireplace seeped into my body, relaxing me a bit.

  “Would you like a glass?” Black Rock asked, pointing at the bottle of wine on the table which had caught my eye.

  I shook my head and went straight to the point. “You lied to me, Black Rock, and I don’t appreciate that in the least. I came here only because I hoped you would help my father, not to be a pawn in whatever game you’re playing.”

  Black Rock leaned forward and placed his wine on the table. Ivy remained impassive, her pale features revealing nothing.

  “There’s still hope for your father, Lila.” The glow of the fire danced on Black Rock’s dark skin, making him look like some kind of god.

  I blinked away from heat and stared at cold: Ivy’s indifferent green eyes. They chilled me and brought me back to my senses.

  “How so?” I asked. “Your doctors said he was fine, and he is anything but.”

  “What ails him is nothing regular doctors can cure. You knew that much before you came here,” he said.

  “Yes, but I hoped Ivy could cure him with her magic,” I protested.

  Ivy and Black Rock exchanged a glance. Like earlier, when Santiago mentioned that Ivy was a powerful healer, tension between the two seemed to grow.

  “I’m afraid that is no longer a possibility,” Black Rock said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

  Black Rock inclined his head toward Ivy as if passing the mantle. Ivy made a face. Clearly, she didn’t want to explain further.

  “Unable to defend your... questionable choice?” Black Rock asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Of course not, I stand by it,” she said, her fingers darting toward the back of her ear. Ivy turned to me and spoke. “I have joined the Érudit Société.” She said it as if I should know what it was. I gave her a blank stare.

  “The Erudite Society,” she added, in plain English.

  Duh. I didn’t need a translation, but an explanation.

  “The Erudite Society,” Black Rock put it, “is another ancient dragon organization. For centuries, it has concentrated its efforts on improving our lives. Sans magic. They study what we are and what we can do through science. Unfortunately, Ivy has joined its most extreme sect, to the extent that she has undergone a surgery that impedes her use of magic all together.”

  My jaw dropped. Ivy’s hand fluttered to the back of her ear once more.

  Was she crazy? Who would do that?

  Then I thought of people who did all kind of crazy things in the name of some ideal, going so far as to commit suicide for what they believed. To me, giving up magic I had just acquired seemed insane, but maybe Ivy, like Santiago, had seen it go wrong too many times.

  But what a crappy time for her to make that unalterable decision.

  “So if regular doctors can’t help my dad, and Ivy doesn’t have magic, where is the hope you speak of then?” I demanded, trying to keep my anger in check. “Where will we get it while we help you with your harebrained plan? I mean… I thought you were smart, but banking on a bunch of unremarkable teenagers to help you solve the untamed issue proves otherwise. We are not the Teen Titans. We aren’t even the gang from Scooby Doo.”

  Ivy lifted her eyebrows in approval. “Just w
hat I’ve been saying.” So she chose to agree with me when it managed to sound like an insult. Typical.

  Black Rock shook his head at his second-in-command. Ivy straightened her already straight robe.

  She sighed. “I don’t agree with Black Rock’s plan.”

  No shit, Sherlock.

  “However,” she said, her expression softening somehow, “it has some merit, if he can make it work. And that’s a big IF.”

  “Ye of little faith,” Black Rock said.

  She chuckled, and they shared a smile that spoke of tons of history between them.

  “I apologize if I haven’t been as welcoming as I should have,” she added. “It has been highly stressful around here lately. For now,” she stood, pushing her mass of red hair behind her shoulder and revealing a strange circular scar behind her ear. I frowned. Was that from the surgery Black Rock had mentioned? It had to be. Talk about a mind job.

  “I will let Black Rock explain things.” She nodded once, then walked to the door, her hips sashaying under the silky fabric of her silver garment.

  How did she stay in such good shape working in a lab all day? Or could she pick her shape at random and went for utterly stunning? I started wondering if I could shift my body however I wanted, then pictured myself as a Kardashian before refocusing.

  “Good night.” She left, closing the door without another word.

  I glanced at everything in the room: the fire, a wicked-looking sword tacked to the wall, a stack of glossy motorcycle books on the coffee table, the expensive furniture… Everything, except Black Rock’s intense eyes. Now that I was alone with him in his bedroom, my original idea of seeking him out was not just idiotic, but absurd.

  And why, if Ivy was romantically involved with him, would she leave him alone with another female?

  Black Rock slid to the edge of his chair, poured a glass of wine, and pushed it in my direction. I felt like I needed the boost, and apparently, since he was offering, I must have looked like it too. Great. I took it without protest and had a sip. It was rich and dry, tasting nothing like the box wine I’d had at parties back home. I wasn’t sure if I liked it, but I welcomed its sobering burn as it went down my throat.

  He smiled, looking mildly amused. “I admire you, Lila.”

  “Don’t patronize me,” I said.

  “It’s the truth. I told you before, you’re unlike any woman I’ve ever known, and I stand by that comment.”

  He’d been standing outside my door, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear when he first told me that. I would never forget.

  “Here you are,” he went on, “in the conciliatory headquarters, demanding answers from some of the oldest, most powerful dragons on the planet without even flinching.”

  “That’s because I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I don’t know enough to shut my mouth when it’s good for me,” I said, feeling self-conscious.

  He gave a small chuckle. “I think you do, but you are too much of you to care. You’re a trailblazer, Lila. I’ve met few like you in my lifetime. You confronted all of Deeploch without batting an eye. It takes terrible courage to do something like that.”

  “Or terrible stupidity,” I mumbled, reminded of the mess at Mirror Island. I frowned. “What happened to Deeploch, by the way? Jimmy and the others?”

  “They’ve faced trial by their peers and are now paying for their crimes,” Black Rock said.

  “Where?”

  “In one of the few conciliatory prisons designed to hold dragons.”

  Trial? Dragon prisons? A thousand questions sprouted in my head.

  Wait!

  Was he telling me all this to distract me? Well, I wouldn’t let him.

  “Real interesting,” I said, “but, going back to what brought me here, why don’t you explain this plan of yours instead?”

  Black Rock laughed heartily this time, throwing his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the thick column of his neck. When he was done, he poured himself another glass of wine and stood.

  Pacing in front of his bed, he explained while I tried not to imagine him reclining on the navy blue comforter without his shirt on. God, why did I have to see him naked today?

  “You called your group unremarkable teenagers,” he began, “But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Your friends are all the offspring of very powerful dragons. Liang Peng and Franco Alcon have great magical skill, and Tara Palmer, as evil as she may be, is extremely... resourceful. And then there is your mother.”

  “My mother? You knew her?”

  He nodded. “I met her once. She was a powerful warden. Kept Deeploch in check for a long time. While she was there, the conciliatory never had to visit Summers Lake.”

  I let that sink in, wondering how much Mom, or her magic, lived within me.

  Black Rock emptied his glass in one gulp, and set it down on the mantel. I forced my mouth shut, keeping all my questions caged. I wasn’t about to interrupt him now that he was finally talking.

  “With dragons, more so than with humans,” he continued, “genetics are extremely important. More often than not, we pass off our skills to our descendants. And, invariably, these skills are enhanced as they move down the line. Take Santiago. He already shows healing inclinations like his father. It’s clear he has inherited the skill.”

  “But… the untamed guy died,” I said, sounding dazed. My head was turning with possibilities.

  Black Rock made a dismissive gesture. “He was too far gone. Besides, Santiago is untried. Only a fledgling. He needs to come into his power. So do the others.”

  “So what? You’re going to make them… grow? Become men?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” he announced.

  I did a double take. I’d been joking, but he was serious.

  “You can’t just—”

  “In the past, dragons were made.” He stopped by the window, his golden eyes piercing the darkness of the mountain outside. He seemed to me like someone remembering a very specific moment in time. “We couldn’t wait for time to do its job. We were constantly at war, constantly in need of more powerful allies. So skills were coaxed out of us, like a fox smoked out of its den. A bird pushed out of the nest. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked.” He abandoned the window and stood behind the chair he’d been occupying. He locked his gaze with mine, tethering me and leaving me breathless.

  I could barely ask my next question. “What do you mean it wasn’t pretty?”

  “It takes sacrifice,” he said.

  “Like what?”

  “I’d rather explain it when everyone is together.”

  I shook my head as a particular realization hit me. “You used me to get to them,” I said, my anger going back to its original boiling point.

  He walked across the fireplace, took a knee next to me, and grabbed my hand. “No,” he said. “You’re the one I wanted the most.”

  His nearness paralyzed me, and all I could do was stare at his strong fingers wrapped around mine.

  “One of my skills helps me sense greatness among our kind, and there is much in you that intrigues me,” he said in a velvet smooth tone.

  “But I’m not even a real dragon. I’m a… I’m… Hell, I don’t know what I am.”

  “We’ll find out together, Lila McCarty. It’s a promise.”

  Chapter 9

  Breakfast was a feast that made me feel like a spoiled princess. It was served in a large room decorated in a conservative style that went against the modern feel in the other areas I’d seen. The walls were covered with mahogany wainscoting and gilded portraits of people from at least two centuries ago. The dining table was long and could probably accommodate thirty people. Porcelain vases filled with fresh flowers sat on white pedestals at every corner. Chandeliers hung from the ceilings and gentle music played from unseen speakers.

  I felt I was in Windsor Palace or something.

  We were served by dressed-up waiters carrying trays with glass pitchers filled with freshly
squeezed orange juice, coffee, tea, milk, anything our hearts desired. Silver platters topped with fresh fruit, eggs, sausages, cheeses, and deli meats sat at one end of the table. There was even an omelet station with a helpful chef in a poofy, white hat awaiting our orders. The whole meal was one more thing on my list of items I could really use back home.

  My guys, Mercedes, and I had found our way here fifteen minutes ago, directed by a helpful conciliatory employee who had been assigned to take care of us. Fang had offered to simply follow his nose, assuring us he could direct us on smell alone, but the rest of us had asked for directions while he rolled his eyes and insisted we hurry up.

  I’d checked on Dad earlier and found him drinking apple juice through a straw, while a pretty nurse leaned over his bed, holding the cup.

  It had done things to my heart to see him awake and attempting a smile. He wasn’t even a shadow of the man I knew, but at least he was conscious and trying to be the dad who always wanted me to think everything would be alright, no matter the circumstances.

  “We’ll find out what’s wrong with you, Daddy,” I had told him. “I promise you.”

  He’d smiled at that, but his eyes remained empty as if he’d lost hope and was resigned to the worst outcome.

  I’d left his room with tears in my eyes that I managed to keep at bay until I stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind me. That’s when I vowed to do whatever Black Rock asked of me to do no matter how dangerous. I wasn’t going to lose Dad. If unlocking our powers could offer possibilities, I’d do my best to find the right key.

  I’d then joined the boys and told them about my conversation with Black Rock. They’d all agreed to do what it took, except for Santiago, who simply said, “I’ll do what I can.” He was really sticking to his no-magic declaration.

  Tom tapped on my arm, bringing me out of my thoughts. He inclined his head and set his fork down. There was a concerned expression on his face that immediately set me on edge.