Gathering Darkness: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Anna Zaires

  Landing lightly in a crouch, he looked around the impromptu ring. The concrete of the floor dropped ten feet straight down into the earth. He turned in a circle. The steel reinforced concrete had been sheered right off, clean cut, and dirt compacted to form the walls.

  He whistled lightly. Took some magic to crush foundations and bedrock like that. Sigils surrounded him, blazing from the earthen walls between the splatters of dried blood and darker fluids. A myriad of scents hit him, crowding for space in his nostrils, each trying to tell their own story but none were more prevalent than the terror and pain. His heart wrenched. Creatures like him had died here, in agony and fear.

  His jaw set, his frame so tight with suppressed rage he felt like he might crack and explode any moment. At his side, his fist clenched and unclenched, claws punched to full length at the end of his human fingers. Sellers and anyone who’d helped him would pay. He’d take their pitiful lives. Slowly.

  A grin crawled over his face. Maybe by ripping their intestines out through their assholes. He’d seen it once on a documentary about medieval torture. One thing he had to say about the middle ages, they sure knew their torture.

  Whistling, he clued Ris in that the place was clean and went back to studying the marks on the wall. At first glance he’d thought they’d been drawn by a warden. Which would have been shitty. Wardens were the magical caretakers of just about everything. Since the purges in the middle ages, almost all the other magical bloodlines—mages, witches and warlocks—had died out, leaving just the Wardens to deal with everything magical. He needed something magical, he hit up a warden and they sorted him out.

  Duke didn’t claim to know that much about them. There were different types, but that was as much as he knew. Under his skin, his scales rustled. He and Baron had taken a road-trip to an Ink Warden a while back, the only one to operate outside the Havens, and gotten some magical protection inscribed right on their bodies.

  The Ink-warden had been nice, if a little young. No one could argue she didn’t know what she was doing though. Not batting an eyelid at their request, she’d simply put down her iron and picked up an engraving tool instead. She’d been cute but he knew better than to hit on the person inking or engraving him. Last thing he needed was the warden equivalent of ‘cock’ written all over his body.

  “All good?” Ris crouched at the edge of the pit and looked around, his gaze sharp and perceptive. Duke turned to look at him, wondering how much he could see. Just the here and now, or the past and future as well?

  “Yeah, nothing living in here. We don’t seem to have any of the dearly departed lingering either. Look like warden symbols.” He flicked a quick motion to the walls. “But I don’t think they are.”

  Ris frowned, dropping down into the pit and landing with a grace nowhere near human. Neither was the stalk as he prowled along the impossibly straight dirt and concrete walls. Duke let that one go. Lots of people in the agency were less than forthcoming about their backgrounds or exactly what flavor of para they were.

  For some, like him and his brother, it was because they didn’t have a fucking clue about their family tree. Others were hunted by those who meant them harm…or their own families. Rhod Claus for example, had turned out to be a genuine Santa, not just the winter elf he’d claimed to be. Duke snorted to himself. Not that anyone had wanted to argue with Rhod. Bastard was built like a line-backer, and not shy about using his fists.

  “No, you’re right. They weren’t drawn by a Warden.” Ris shook his head, hand half-extended to trace the pattern on the wall.

  Buried in the witching, the magical layer that surrounded everything, no human would have been able to see it. Since the two of them were anything but, they could easily make them out.

  “Here and here, see? The sigil isn’t warden. It’s older.” He paused and even though Duke couldn’t see his face, he knew the other man was using his abilities to look into the past. Or the future. Hard to tell.

  “Fuck me. These are Dragos.”

  Duke lifted an eyebrow. “Since I’m fairly certain you’re not talking about me, how about you clue me in about these ‘dragos’?”

  “Dragon-mage. Not a dragon, but a warlock who’s been drinking dragon blood.” Ris turned, his face pale, which only shoved Duke’s eyebrow further up toward his hairline. “There hasn’t been a Dragos for…shit, easily a couple of thousand years.”

  Duke wasn’t stupid. “Sellars has a Dragos?”

  That made sense, he’d also had two dragons. One tiny one in a cage and the female, who was more adult, more woman, than he could think about now and maintain his focus.

  “If he has, then we’re fucked.” Ris racked a hand through his hair. “Shit. That means someone broke the covenants. That spell should be dead. Gone. No more Dragos.”

  “Cut to the chase, Seer. Before I have to make you focus.”

  With his fists. Duke was in no mood to piss about. If these Dragos were so dangerous, then his woman was in danger, and he wasn’t having that. He’d storm whatever castle he needed to rescue her and keep her safe. Preferably naked and under him.

  Ris laughed, the sound odd and when he opened his eyes, the unfocused look gave away the fact that he had a foot in a different timeline. “Chase. Oh, yes. You have no idea…. Cleave heart to the Nightborne, and you’ll build a new world. Let her die and the world will fall in fire and ashes.”

  Duke rocked back on his heels as the words spewed from the Seer’s mouth. They rang with truth and purpose, rolling through every cell in his body all the way from his scalp right down to his toes.

  Ris shook his head, eyes clearing before he blinked. “Shit. What was that?”

  “You mean you don’t know?” Duke snapped, his voice sharp. “Words came out your mouth, and you’re asking me?”

  “He spoke Truth.” Lucy’s soft voice broke through the tension between the two men. Both looked up to see her sitting on the edge of the pit. “Or rather Truth spoke him.”

  Duke shrugged. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  She smiled, transferring her attention to the tall Seer. “It means that he’s the real deal. A true Seer. What he says will come to pass.”

  “I was afraid of that,” Duke grumbled, stalking to the edge of the pit. Running the last few steps, he planted a heavy boot in the middle of the wall and shifted his center of gravity for a moment to hop up.

  Fire and ashes. End of the world.

  No pressure then….

  ***

  Everything hurt.

  From the tips of her toes right the way up to the hair follicles on her scalp. Chase lay on the cold, wet floor of the cavern, and shivered as she tried to get the energy to move. Sellers had been more pissed than she’d expected. He was heavy with his fists, she’d learned that one early on, but usually his anger wore out quickly and she could slink away. Not this time. Instead, he’d been chanting a spell as he started in on her and had locked her into her human form.

  The beating had taken…shit, she didn’t know how long he’d been hitting her for. She’d lost count after she’d felt the second rib crack. Now she felt like she’d fallen out of the sky and hit a mountain forest on the way down. Every. Fucking. Tree.

  A groan whispered from her chest as she turned over and drew on everything she had to get her hands and knees under her. Drawing on her dragon, she fed determination and rage into each abused cell of her body, cursing the warlock every second of the way. Each cut, every bruise, her broken ribs…he’d pay for all of them. With interest.

  Baby crooned from her cage, worry and fear prevalent in her voice. Chase crooned back in reassurance, the sound too low to wake Sellers, who’d stalked off to his rooms to sleep.

  Looking around to make sure Sellers’ pet pixie, Rat, was nowhere around, she staggered to her feet. She suppressed a yelp as the broken edges of her ribs ground together, and pain stabbed through her side. Cold sweat broke out along her spine. She stood for a moment. Panting. Gathering herself. She needed
to shift to heal the damage but the spell held firm, stopping her.

  It was weak though and wouldn’t last long now that Sellers slept. Only the spells he cast from the scroll of the Dragos were powerful enough for him to maintain in sleep. Anything else faded when he lost focus. Asshole hadn’t figured out that he wasn’t as powerful as he thought yet. But he could be. All he needed was the blood of a dragon mate and it would lock the dragos spell in permanently. Then he’d be unstoppable.

  Chase’s lips compressed into a thin line of pain and determination and she made her way to the door in the straightest line she could manage. It took every ounce of strength she had, the memory of every shitty training session before she’d earned her place as a warrior, the adrenalin of every battle she’d ever fought and the sheer pride in being what she was, to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  She trudged through the dank, damp tunnels trying to get far enough away from Sellers to trigger a healing shift. Every so often she was forced to snarl at Red Caps lurking in the shadows to keep them at bay. It didn’t scare the things off. She felt them following her, the back of her neck prickling from their interest. Fuckers. The knowledge they’d be all over her like a bad rash kept her on her feet. If she hit the deck now, the injuries Sellers had inflicted would seem like mere tickles. Red Caps were nasty and way too inventive with those pikes. The fact that she’d roasted more than a few of them would only make them more so.

  A breeze from up ahead washed over her and she turned her bruised face toward it. Wincing at the cooler air, she probed the side of her cheek. Lacerations crisscrossed the inside, seeping blood, and some of her teeth were loose.

  Looking up, she focused through her left eye. Her right was swollen shut. Just to the end of the tunnel. That’s all she needed. It was still night so she could shift without being seen. Just a few more steps….

  She stumbled out of the tunnel and fell, the last of her strength gone. Agony lanced through her body, her broken ribs crunching. Her scream echoed through the night sky and she lay, utterly spent. But she was in the open, under the moon, and that was all that mattered.

  Another sound answered her scream. A bellow, louder and harsher than hers. The voice of a male dragon calling out in concern. The cloud cover broke above her and she sighed in relief as moonlight bathed her. Blessed, healing moonlight. The bellow came again but she ignored it. Those bloody males were at the root of her troubles.

  What troubles? The voice broke through her weakened mental barriers. Deep and rough, there was no mistaking that it belonged to a male. Her male. Where are you? Tell me where you are.

  Nowhere. Go away. Rolling onto her back, she lay still as she gathered energy to shift. She couldn’t help the small whimper as her body settled. Rat came up this way a lot, and she needed to be gone before he came across her. Sellers had the power, but it was the pixie who really scared her. He had a dead look in his eyes that chilled her to the core.

  You’re hurt. Tell me where you are, dammit! the male demanded, his voice little more than a growl. I’ll come and rescue you.

  Chase couldn’t help it, she barked out a laugh before she remembered that laughing and broken ribs didn’t play so nice together.

  I don’t need rescuing—

  Sellers’ spell broke with a snap she felt all the way down to her toes.

  Fuck me....

  Sucking in a breath, she held a hand to her ribs and let go, allowing her body to dissolve and fall into darkness. She coiled her shadow form around and back on itself gingerly to ease all the kinks out. Pain stabbed into her side at several movements so she took it easy, breathing a sigh of relief as her scales rustled and shifted back into place. With the change of form, most of her injuries fell away like they’d never been, leaving just the deepest and most gruesome for her to heal the old-fashioned way. Through time. Exactly the reason Sellers had locked her into the one form. It was the only way he could make her suffer. Feel pain.

  Happily, sweetness. The male’s voice lost the growl and became silky. Just tell me when and where.

  Yeah, right, she snapped back. Like that’s happening.

  It will happen. The arrogance in his voice lit the match of her temper. I’ll find you and you’re mine. You know you are.

  Pffft, no one owns a Nightborne. Her voice was dismissive as she extended ethereal wings to full stretch in a slow movement and felt the wind under them. The feeling was bliss after being trapped in her human body for so long, even if her side did pull a little where her ribs were healing. She’d have to be careful flying and moving for a while. And anyone who tries is an idiot.

  What did you say?

  He dropped the silky tone, the surprise evident even over their mental link. A link he shouldn’t have unless— She cut that thought off before it could form. She had no mate. Didn’t want or need one. She had too much to do, and Baby to look after, before she could even think about taking a mate.

  I said you’re an idiot.

  No, not that part.

  She could almost see his irritation and grinned as she launched herself into the night sky as he started talking again. The part about the Nightborne? What did you mean? Is that what you are? A Nightborne dragon?

  Chase rolled her eyes, wings beating the air as she climbed high over the city. She could sense him clumsily feeling along the link, trying to locate her and suppressed her snort. He didn’t have a chance in hell. Her shields were back at full strength now and the only reason she still spoke to him was because she wanted to.

  Hells, don’t you know anything? Or what you are?

  No.

  The insecurity in the single word answer struck at her heart and she paused mid wing-beat. You don’t know what you are? Shit, that was rough. To not know what you were was to not know who you were.

  No, we were abandoned just after birth. Never found our family. Some old Warden said we were Shadow-dragons, but we’ve never seen another of our kind. Until you.

  Now she felt like an ass. An ass with a mission, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t talk to him. She just wasn’t going to meet him. Ever. Not when the mere sound of his voice had the mating call pulling at her heart.

  You are Shadow-dragons. I thought myself to be the last of our kind, but I was obviously mistaken. If you were born…. Then there might be more of us now. How old are you?

  He chuckled, the rich, deep sound so sexy that it sent a shiver down her spine. Now, if we start that, I’ll have to ask your age. Disclosure of information and all that, and I make it a point of courtesy not to ask a lady’s age.

  Good luck finding a lady around here, sunshine. She allowed amusement to filter through her mental voice and banked between two high-rise buildings. I don’t need to know to the date, but were you born in this time?

  What a strange thing to ask. What time would I have been born in? The dark ages?

  Great. He was an idiot. A sarcastic one to boot.

  Don’t worry, she snapped back, banking around another building and dropping into an alley close to her destination. It’s fairly obvious you were, you’re too dumb to be anything else. Don’t try to contact me again.

  Cutting the link, she slammed her mental shields in place and reformed on two legs. Hope hummed in her heart as she walked down the dark alley. If she was lucky she’d be able to find a way to break Sellers’ control over her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Given that she’d been born eons ago, and even though she’d kept up to date with linguistic differences by hitch-hiking in the back of human minds over the years, she’d found that when startled or annoyed, she dropped back into the more formal speech pattern of her youth.

  Right now, startled was somewhat of an understatement. Surprise filtered through every cell of her body as she looked at the Warden opposite her sharply.

  They sat in what amounted to the tiniest sitting room Chase had ever seen. Shelves and cupboards lined the walls, with ornaments and lace doilies on e
very available surface. A closer look though, revealed that this wasn’t some little old lady’s sitting room. Arcane artifacts played companion to the mundane. A crystal skull sat next to a figurine of a shepherdess and lamb while a grimoire sat on top of a battered old cookbook. For some reason the modern book looked older than the leather-bound one.

  Two chairs were crammed kitty-corner to each other facing a roaring fire. Which, as far as Chase could recall from when she’d approached the place, had no chimney. Curiosity rolling through her, she couldn’t resist the temptation and unfurled her own power enough to send a tendril of query. Just low-level stuff that didn’t trigger the collar, and one the Warden no doubt expected. Like most fire-breathers, all dragons had an affinity with the hot stuff.

  Her query touched the flames and she started in surprise.

  Illusion. A damn good one as well. It would have to be to fool her. Interesting.

  She didn’t allow her gaze to flicker, just looked at the Warden steadily. Like the room, appearances were deceptive. When she’d first walked in, she’d almost turned around and walked back out again, convinced that one of the most magically capable creatures in the world should not look like someone’s grandmother.

  “Why should that come as a surprise, Nightborne?” The Warden asked, holding up the teapot from the table between the chairs in silent query. Despite her aged appearance, sharp intelligence shone in her dark eyes. And something darker, more powerful than should reside in a human frame, lurked in the chocolate brown.

  Chase shook her head in reply. Since the woman had known what she was the instant she’d walked through the door, Chase didn’t entirely trust her. It was too easy to slip something into an infusion. Which was how half of her kind had ended up enslaved in the first place. Might be interesting if the warden did try something like that. Chase could sit back and watch her and Sellers duke it out with spells to see who controlled her.