by Black, C. I.
Hunter shifted in his chair. There was only one logical direction this conversation could go now. He knew too much about Nero and Nero held the medallion. He still had two minutes left.
“Why are you trusting me with this?”
“Because you’ve seen the truth. If I didn’t tell you now, you’d go back to Court and figure it out.” Nero dropped the medallion in Hunter’s lap.
What the hell? Hunter’s heart skipped a beat. He yanked the chain over his head before Nero could take the medallion back. “Why not just rebirth me?”
“You don’t deserve it.” Nero stood and walked to the sidebar in the far corner. “Besides, I’d rather have an ally. Things are changing, or they will very soon. There’s talk of a coup and human mages are being snuck into Court.”
Ponytail didn’t look surprised at this, which meant she was privy to Nero’s plans, revealing an unexpected openness in their relationship. Maybe she really was his new Third.
“Not new information for me.” Well, the sneaking mages into Court was, but he wasn’t going to point that out. This still didn’t explain why the young drake had tried to challenge Hunter in the feast hall and had looked to Nero for help, but Hunter wasn’t going to bring that up at the moment. Better to keep the conversation political and not personal.
“Zenobia is making non-natural mages. She’s convinced a small group of young drakes to make a strike force.”
“You know this and you haven’t done anything?”
Nero poured himself a drink. It looked like vodka straight up. “I’ve known for a century now, ever since she cut off that cavern on the outskirts of Court. I’ve been waiting for the moment when the evidence against her is the most damning. That would be tonight when she stages her coup.”
“And how do you know that?”
Nero flashed his teeth. “I have an augur under my roof.”
“Really? Bet that’s helpful, being the leader of the Asar Nergal.”
“You could say that.”
An augur, either dragon or human, hadn’t been seen since Nostradamus and before him the Oracle at Delphi. Why Nero hadn’t made a play for the throne with an augur in his pocket was beyond Hunter. “How reliable are his prophecies?”
“She’s still young, so not a hundred percent.” Nero downed his drink in one fast gulp. “My coterie might seem strange, but it is mine. Their safety takes precedence over everything: my life, your life, even the throne.”
Well, that they had in common. There wasn’t anything Hunter wouldn’t do to protect Anaea.
A whoosh of air swept through the room and Grey appeared at Hunter’s side, sword drawn and blood dripping from the blade.
Hunter jerked to his feet. “What the hell?”
Ponytail leapt from the wall and hissed a power word but Nero raised a hand. The air around her trembled, pulling at her hair and clothes, but didn’t strike Grey. Thank goodness. The drake didn’t look like he could handle any more action. He was splattered, head to toe, in blood. It dribbled from a cut in his mouth and a gash on his forehead, and he clutched his gut as if he held himself together.
An attack on Grey meant—
Hunter’s heart skipped a beat. “Where is she?”
Grey’s gaze darted between Nero and Hunter. It landed on the rope at Hunter’s feet and the medallion in his hands. He relaxed his fighting stance and lowed his sword, digging the point in Nero’s carpet to prop himself up. “Apparently my cell phone is tapped.” His words wheezed and gurgled. “We’ve got to find a more secure way to communicate.”
“Where is she?” The predator within Hunter flared. If anything had happened to her—
“Jade took her. But I don’t think she had anything to do with the others. They were after the medallion.”
“Zenobia needs it for her leadership to remain stable after the coup,” Nero said.
Hunter glared at the black drake. He didn’t care about Zenobia or her coup. All he cared about was Anaea.
Grey started to sit in the chair Hunter had vacated, winced, and remained standing. “Damn it. I hate getting impaled.”
“You’ll get over it.”
“Not nearly as fast as you.”
Which was why Hunter had ended up as the Prince’s Assassin and Grey hadn’t. “Why did Jade take her?”
Grey raised an eyebrow.
“Shit.” Jade must have noticed Anaea still had an earth magic aura but not Hunter’s any more. “Maybe Jade didn’t take her to Court.”
Grey coughed more blood. “And maybe I don’t have a pierced lung.”
He had to get to her, make Regis understand how important she was. He was not going to lose her.
“Nero, can you gate me to my suite?”
“I have a coup to stop.” At least the black drake looked genuinely upset. “I can gate you to Court but not anywhere near your suite. I don’t have the time.”
Hunter’s pulse rushed in his ears. “Can you spare anyone?”
“No.”
“I’ll take you.” Grey sucked in a wheezing breath.
“Are you sure?” It was going to be tough for Grey to gate as injured as he was, but Hunter was grateful he’d made the offer.
Grey nodded.
Nero cleared his throat. “I have to go.” He met Hunter’s gaze, his expression filled with knowing and compassion. “Good hunting.”
“You, too.”
With a whoosh both Nero and Ponytail gated from the room. Hunter turned back to Grey, slinging an arm around his back and taking some of his weight. “Let’s go.”
“There’s something else you need to know. She can heal like a dragon.”
Hunter froze. Only a human with full true sorcerer ability could heal like that.
“I saw it myself.”
“Does Jade know?” Regis was certain to kill her if he knew she was a true sorcerer.
“I don’t know. But it won’t take her long to figure it out.”
Shit. He had to get to Court, had to find Anaea. Now.
Panic raced over him and Anaea screamed in his head, her voice making his ears ring from the inside out.
Where are you?
The terror eased, replaced with an unspoken question.
Where are you? He didn’t have time to figure out how or why they could communicate. The best guess was that she really was a true sorcerer and was unknowingly coming into her full power. Which explained a whole lot about how she could call fire and open a gate without power words or gestures.
Court. God, he killed her. Hunter, I— Her words were cut off.
Anaea?
No response.
Anaea?
His stomach churned. “Gate me to Court, now.”
CHAPTER 34
Jester’s sticky cage shrank around Anaea. She shoved against it, but it didn’t budge. Hunter had been there, in her head, for just a moment. She had to reach him again, warn him.
Something shivered through her and she jerked her attention back to the Jester. He was drawing energy, pulling it into her body. Her skin tingled but she didn’t feel the fire licking inside her. Something was wrong, but the Jester’s pleasure continued to sweep through her. He was doing something else. Calling something else. But she couldn’t figure out what.
She squirmed. Tendrils lashed out from the cage, clinging to her. She thrashed harder.
Now, now, Giacomo said. The bands around her tightened, drawing her mental arms and legs out in opposite directions until she couldn’t move. You’re giving me a headache.
Good. She focused all her frustration at him. Give me my body back and your problems will be solved.
Jester grunted. Hardly.
Hatred seethed through her. Her body wasn’t going to be his prison. Not like that pathetic ruined human had been. Her body would be the means of his revenge. She was more powerful than anyone but he had realized.
A manic laugh bubbled over her lips and she bit it back. No, the Jester did. But he wasn’t entirely the Jester. The sagging s
ack of a man cowering in the corner was the Jester, driven crazy by Xanthic, the dragon, trapped in his body. And his King and Regis were going to pay for that torture.
Over and over again, if he had any say in it.
Which he did.
He let the laugh escape and touched a finger to the ruined human. Fire engulfed him. He whimpered, his ineffectual twitching fanning the flames. Then he sagged against the wall, the inferno extinguished as suddenly as it started.
Good riddance to that.
Anaea wanted to be sick, wanted to scream and fight. But the bonds held her tight and she didn’t even have eyes within her control.
“Quit your whining.”
She jerked against her bonds.
Xanthic had been kept trapped in Court for centuries with a body that couldn’t even open a gate, with only enough sorcerer ability to recognize another sorcerer’s body when he saw it, and the incessant nattering of that human soul. Mother of All, that man had gone crazy within the first day. Constantine had caught Xanthic body-sharing and prevented him from transferring into an unoccupied vessel as punishment. Then the King had become soul sick and because the crazy human’s spirit was overwhelming, it muted Xanthic’s aura until no one could see it and no one knew he was trapped. Soon everyone had forgotten—or chosen to ignore—that the Jester was also a dragon. After the first hundred years, Xanthic couldn’t contain the human’s soul any more.
The bonds around Anaea eased, but the cage shrank even more, squeezing her into a mental fetal position.
That Jester’s body was supposed to have been the one. Perfect. A great power. But he’d misread the signs. And Zenobia had done nothing to save him. She’d let him rot while she flirted with Regis, flaunting her freedom and forcing him to watch. Now the bitch was using his plan to stage her coup. It was his coup!
Energy crackled through her.
The Mother of All had taken pity. Finally. She’d sent him this sweet, powerful body and given him one last perfect moment of control. Crazy or not, Constantine would pay. Regis would pay. The bitch Zenobia would suffer... then pay. They all would. Tit for tat. And when he was done, he’d enjoy his new tits. It had been far too long.
* * *
Hunter strode through the gate, sword ready, into his living room. Empty. Thank goodness. Even though the risk had been fairly minimal, stepping into his own suite could have been dangerous. Anyone could have potentially been lying in wait, but getting to his cache of weapons was a priority.
Grey stumbled through behind him, hugging his gut and gasping for air. “You owe me.”
Yes he did and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to pay off the debt. “When this body connects to the earth’s magic I’ll open any gate you want.”
Grey sagged onto Hunter’s couch. “If that body connects to the earth’s magic.”
With a shrug, Hunter marched into his bedroom. He’d deal with that later, once Anaea was safe.
He strapped a long sword and matching dagger to his hip. They felt a little mismatched to his new body, but he’d get used to it soon enough. He had to. More knives went into ankle sheaths and wrist sheaths and one at his back. Then he shrugged into a double-gun holster and checked his 9mm semi-automatics. They weren’t sanctioned weapons and they wouldn’t kill a dragon, but they could slow one down—a lot if the dragon was a slow healer. And Hunter wasn’t going to take any chances if he had to fight his way out. Besides, they would certainly kill a human mage.
He put on his calf-length leather coat, which, indeed, was too broad in the shoulders but the correct length—the Handmaiden had been right—and returned to his living room.
Grey shoved off the couch with a groan. “Ready?”
“I am. You’re staying here.” The last thing he needed was to worry about Grey. He’d stopped bleeding and the gash on his forehead had sealed up, but the hole in his gut still wept and he looked pale.
“What, and miss all the fun?”
“You’ll be more of a hindrance than a help. Besides, Regis is more likely to let me slip Anaea away from Court if there aren’t any witnesses.”
“That’s if he’ll let you take her at all.”
A growl bubbled within Hunter. “That’s not an option I’m willing to entertain.”
Grey raised an eyebrow. Hunter could see understanding working across Grey’s expression. There weren’t many things that would make a dragon so determined but an inamorata was one of them.
Hunter squared his shoulders. He would turn his back on his people, even Grey if necessary, for Anaea. Every cell in his body thrummed for her.
“Hunter.” Grey’s expression hardened.
The muscles in his neck twitched. There wasn’t anything more to discuss. “What?”
“Call me when she’s safe.”
The knot in his gut eased. “I thought your phone was compromised.”
“You know what I mean, you stupid drake. Now get your ass out of here.”
With a curt nod to his friend, Hunter slipped into the hall, senses straining for the slightest indication of trouble. The halls of the Dragon Court were empty, which made sense, now that he thought about it. Anyone in Court would be at the final feast of the pahar. Still, the quiet made the hairs on the back of his still-unfamiliar neck stand on end. Maybe Zenobia had started her coup and Nero was in the process of stopping her. But it didn’t matter. A fight was coming, regardless. Although he supposed it had been a long time in coming. It was surprising he’d been subservient for as long as he had.
Anaea’s presence was still muffled within him. He strained to reach her but couldn’t, and had no idea how she was being contained. Maybe Jade was more of a true sorcerer than she’d let on. Surely the Handmaiden hadn’t gotten involved.
The guards outside Regis’s suite were missing. So was the gaggle of sycophants waiting to fawn over him on his way to the feast hall. Hunter could see Regis dismissing the courtiers to deal with Anaea, but not his guards.
Maybe he’d already killed Anaea and gone to the feast.
That thought sent Hunter’s heart racing.
No. Regis would want to hold onto Anaea, confront Hunter with the evidence of his guilt, if only to watch Hunter squirm.
But the other possible reasons for absent guards didn’t sit any easier with him. It was most likely that Regis was inside, and so was trouble. And Hunter really hated walking into a bad situation blind. He hadn’t stayed the Prince’s Assassin for as long as he had through being reckless. Without any other options, however, he had little choice.
He grabbed the door handle. No magic tingled over his skin and the latch opened. The lock wasn’t set. He rested a hand on the hilt of his long sword and eased the door open.
Lightning slammed into him, hurling him into the wall at the end of the corridor. Black specks swarmed across his vision and he gasped against the pressure in his chest.
A figure sauntered toward him.
Anaea.
He blinked, trying to clear his sight. An orange light clung to her, overshadowing a brilliant white aura.
She knelt beside him and tsked.
The pressure in his chest increased, making the specks in his vision whirl faster.
“About time you showed up.” She yanked the medallion from his neck with a manic, nails-on-chalkboard giggle.
* * *
Grey flipped open his phone and dialed Capri’s number. Please pick up this time. As much as Hunter had told Grey to hole up in his suite, the shit was going to hit the fan and Hunter needed help. Getting Anaea out of Court was only one part of the problem. The men in the hotel had magic, at least two with super-human strength and one with extraordinary speed, but they hadn’t healed, which meant they had to be human mages. And that meant something big was coming after Hunter and he might not escape Court in time.
He groaned as the pieces of the puzzle the Handmaiden had given him fell together. She had to have seen the future. The spell was difficult and while her visions weren’t as accurate as a
n augur’s, she could do it. Whatever was going to happen, she must have seen it and left him the tools necessary to salvage the situation, trusting he’d figure it out when the time was right.
What he didn’t know was why she hadn’t stuck around to help or stopped it. But perhaps dragon-kind needed to learn a lesson. He wouldn’t put that past her.
“Yeah?” Capri said.
“What is it with drakes and phone etiquette?”
“Grey?”
Grey coughed, spiking pain through his chest. “Hunter needs your help.”
“You don’t sound good.”
That sounded like actual concern. If he wasn’t in so much pain and so worried about Hunter and Anaea, he’d be thrilled. “Meet me at Gig’s and bring a sword.” Capri lived somewhere in the human world and Grey wasn’t inclined to find out where. Gig, however, had a suite in Court and Grey knew where that was.
“Done,” she said without hesitation.
The line went dead. Grey smashed the phone against the wall and drained the rest of his earth magic to cast another unanchored gate into the hall outside Gig’s suite. His breath burned in his chest and the hole in his gut still wept blood. Damn, he hated getting impaled. It made concentrating on magic and everything challenging. But at least he was healing.
He snorted. He’d been to the human world twice in as many days and he was still alive. Barely. But barely wasn’t dead. Bully for him.
Gig opened the door as Capri rushed down the hall toward them. She had to have gated right after the call and run all the way here from the receiving hall, since she wasn’t strong enough to use a gate without an anchor like Grey could.
“Shit, Grey. What happened?” Capri asked.
“Would you believe Hunter has fallen in love?”
“And he beat you up for that?” Gig motioned for Grey to enter the suite, but Grey shook his head.
“He would for his inamorata,” Capri said.