by Rachel Aaron
“In the lounge,” she said, tossing the broken glass into the bucket beside her. “Down the hall, first door on the left. Try not to make her any angrier. We’re running out of furniture.”
There was no way he could promise that, so Julius just thanked his sister and walked through the door she’d indicated, carefully stepping over the rest of the broken glass as he made his way deeper into the Heartstriker’s lair.
He didn’t have to go far. Despite being the private quarters of the (former) head of the largest dragon clan in the world, Bethesda’s apartments were still situated at the peak of a thorn-like mountain. That didn’t leave much space for extra rooms once you accounted for her egg-laying chamber and private gold vault. Julius had actually been hoping he’d get to see that last one. He was still a dragon, after all, and the piles of gold Bethesda famously liked to lounge on were the stuff of legend. Unfortunately for his curiosity, his mother was exactly where Frieda had said she’d be: sprawled on a leather fainting couch in a smoky, red-velvet-covered room that, though ripped in places, was still mostly intact.
This was an improvement over the hurricane-level destruction of the entry room. After looking around, though, Julius couldn’t help but wish she’d wrecked this room as well. Maybe if she’d beaten the velvet couches and copious nude paintings a bit more, he’d have been able to ignore the fact that he was basically standing in what could only be described as his mother’s boudoir. It didn’t help that the silk dressing gown she was wearing fit the scene perfectly, falling off her shoulders in a way that didn’t quite leave her naked, but still revealed way more of his mother than Julius would ever be comfortable seeing. Which, knowing Bethesda, was precisely why she’d worn it.
“Well, well, well,” she growled, her green eyes glowing in the low light. “My illustrious co-ruler arrives at last.”
Julius sighed. He’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but he’d hoped his mother’s natural lust for power would encourage her to at least try working within the new system, if only to figure out how to game it. Clearly, even that was too optimistic. Bethesda didn’t look ready to do anything except eat him alive. She was also, he realized suddenly, not alone.
“You know David, of course,” she said, waving her hand at the dragon sitting in the enormous armchair in the corner. “Senator of New Mexico.”
“Of course,” Julius said. Other than Bethesda, David—a five-term senator and the first dragon ever to be elected to public office in the United States—was the most famous Heartstriker, at least among mortals. He played the part perfectly, too. Where most dragons did everything they could to emphasize their position at the top of the food chain, David did the opposite. His smile was trustworthy rather than predatory, and his dark hair had been dyed strategically gray at the temples to make him look less eternally young. Like all dragons, he was still ridiculously handsome, but in an approachable way, the kind of man you’d trust to look after your house, or your country. But unlike the rest of the voting population, Julius was also a dragon. Good as the ruse was, he could spot the hunter’s gleam in David’s bright-green eyes as he stood up to offer Julius his hand.
“I’m happy to meet you at last,” he said warmly, giving Julius a crushing handshake. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“I’m sure you have,” Julius said, glancing at his mother, who bared her teeth. “But, um, this is supposed to be a Council meeting, so—”
“Why do you think he’s here?” Bethesda snapped, giving Julius the look she saved for her especially stupid children. “He’s going to be our third seat.”
Julius jerked in surprise. “What?”
“I was honored to be asked,” David said, his deep voice smooth as silk. “And delighted to accept. I’m happy to do whatever I can to aid our clan in these troubled times.”
“Spoken like a true politician,” Bethesda said proudly. “But you can drop the act, dear. It’s only Julius.”
David flashed their mother a smile that almost, but didn’t quite, reach his eyes. Julius, however, was putting a stop to this right now.
“I’m happy you’re not fighting the Council anymore,” he said to his mother, pulling out the folded-up charter Bob had just given him. “But you can’t just make David part of the Council. It clearly says right here that the third seat must to be elected by a majority vote of the—”
“But that’s ridiculous,” Bethesda scoffed. “I’m still sealed, and I don’t get unsealed until this stupid Council is complete. David is more than qualified. He’s also the highest-ranking Heartstriker without a Fang other than Amelia, and his popularity with the upper alphabet clutches gives him loads of internal support.” She flashed her son a proud smile. “He was actually my second suspect for potential coups after Amelia, but you and Bob beat him to the punch.”
David chuckled. “You should thank them for that, Mother. I was planning to kill you in your sleep.”
“I almost wish you had,” Bethesda said. “At least you would have managed a proper draconic overthrow instead of this mess.”
They both had a good laugh over that, and Julius, who already felt sick to his stomach, decided to just move on. “It doesn’t matter how good he is or how much support he’s got,” he said firmly. “There still has to be a vote.”
“And there will be,” Bethesda said. “Or haven’t you noticed the Heartstriker migration?” She gestured at the boudoir’s tiny window, where the shadows of dragon wings flickered almost constantly in the morning light. “I called everyone in last night. By noon, the whole clan should be assembled. Once I’ve got everyone together, I’ll explain what happened, tell everyone how to vote, and this Council nonsense will be resolved.” She grinned. “I’ll have my wings back by sunset. Assuming the bag of hot air I call daughter can actually undo the seal she put on me.”
That was a far more sensible plan than Julius had expected from his mother, but there was still one problem. “You can’t just tell everyone about the open Council seat and then have the vote immediately,” he said. “What if someone wants to run against David?”
Bethesda shrugged. “Not my problem.”
“Yes, your problem,” Julius snapped. “The entire point of this Council is to let Heartstrikers choose who we want to lead us. That can’t happen if you’re just appointing people.”
“Oh, Julius,” Bethesda drawled. “You say that like I should care. But this is your dream, not mine. The only reason I’m playing along at all is because I’d rather have a little power than none. If you wanted all these lofty ideals, you should have been here fighting for them, not gallivanting around with your little mortal girlfriend. But no. You were off playing while I was running my clan.”
“I wasn’t here because we had a meeting this morning,” he growled, trying his best to stay calm. “And you shouldn’t have been doing anything with our clan to begin with. Not without informing me first.”
“Like you know anything about what it means to be the Heartstriker,” his mother scoffed. “I bet you don’t even know how many dragons we have.”
He couldn’t answer that, and Bethesda smiled cruelly. “Thought so.”
Julius clenched his fists. Ten minutes into their first meeting, and things were already spinning out of his control. But it was always this way. Even now that they were technically equals, talking to his mother still made him feel like a hunted animal. But while Julius wanted nothing more than to turn around and walk out, he didn’t have the luxury of running this time. This Council was the culmination of everything he’d fought for. It was the chance at a better future he’d made everyone suffer to create, especially Marci, and Julius would keep his mother from riding roughshod over it if it was the very last thing he did. He was about to tell her as much when David cleared his throat.
“Though she’s wrong in her motives, Mother does have a point,” he said in a politic voice. “I would love nothing more than to give all of Heartstriker a chance to properly consider their options, but we simply don’t have th
e time. By her contract of surrender, Bethesda’s power as the Heartstriker is now divided evenly among the three Council members. Unfortunately, this means that, until that final seat is filled and the Heartstriker Council is complete, we can’t make any clan decisions. That’s a dangerous liability on a good day, but with Algonquin’s declaration of war last night, it could be a catastrophic one.”
David leaned forward in his chair, looking at Julius with an earnestness that was almost sincere. “As the dragons of the Americas, the Heartstriker clan is Algonquin’s closest target. We are also, thanks to you, in complete disarray. That’s a deadly combination, Julius. Now more than ever, we can not afford to appear weak or indecisive. We must fill the final seat as soon as possible, before Algonquin realizes just how wounded we are.”
He finished with a winning smile, and for a treacherous second, Julius was almost swayed. The only thing that saved him was the fact that he’d been hiding from dragons like David his whole life, which meant he’d seen this game enough to know when it was being played on him. “I see,” he said. “So it’s just convenient that, since you’re the only one who knows there will be elections, you just happen to be the only one prepared to win them.”
“Any good statesman protects to his advantage,” David said with a shrug. “But just because it benefits me doesn’t mean a quick election isn’t also what’s best for the clan. With my connections in the American government, our newly formed Council will be a strong wall against Algonquin’s inevitable encroachment. Honestly, I really don’t see how we could do better, unless you have another Heartstriker in mind?”
“I don’t,” Julius admitted. “Honestly, you probably would be very good for the job, but that’s not the point. This is supposed to be a fair election, and that implies having more than one candidate. I understand that Algonquin is a serious threat, but I didn’t do this so dragons like you could crowbar your way into power.”
“Then perhaps you don’t understand just how serious a threat Algonquin is,” David said, his voice growing cold. “Mother?”
Bethesda snapped her fingers, and Chelsie stepped out of the shadows, making Julius jump.
In hindsight, he supposed he should have expected it. Chelsie was never far when Bethesda was involved, and she never entered a room normally. But while the clan enforcer’s presence should have been a given, the bloody bandages covering her left arm and torso were not.
“What happened?” he cried, looking her up and down. “You weren’t hurt last night!”
“Of course not,” Bethesda said. “She was fighting you, and all you do is run. These are from the job I sent her on this morning.”
“And why was she on a job?” Julius demanded. Last he’d heard, Chelsie had been sleeping off the effects of Estella’s chains.
“Because I sent her on one,” Bethesda said, flashing him a smile so sweet, it made his stomach curdle. “Really, Julius, I’d think you’d be happy. Thanks to my quick thinking, Chelsie was able to get a look around inside the DFZ before Algonquin’s defenses went up.”
“You sent her to the DFZ?” he said, unable to believe his ears. “But she just got out from under the chains.” He squinted at the bandages again. “Are those bullet wounds?”
“Anti-dragon rounds,” Chelsie said, nodding. “Algonquin was prepared.”
By this point, Julius was so angry he didn’t know what to do with it all. His mother, on the other hand, looked smugger than ever. “Just because you coerced me into this Council nonsense doesn’t mean you get everything,” she said, reaching up to pet Chelsie’s short-cropped black hair. “The clan might be yours, but Chelsie is mine. My shade, my spy, mine to do with as I please, always and forever.”
Chelsie dropped her eyes as she said this, staring at the floor. Julius did as well, but for a completely different reason. How could he have been so stupid? He’d assumed they’d taken everything from Bethesda when they’d removed her as clan head, but he’d completely forgotten about Chelsie. Given how no one seemed to want to talk about why Bethesda’s control over Chelsie was special, the oversight might have been excusable until you remembered that Chelsie herself had said she couldn’t take the Fang’s seat on the Council because she’d just be giving their mother another vote. He should have realized the truth then and made Bob rewrite the contract to remove Bethesda’s control from Chelsie as well, but he hadn’t even thought about it. Stupid.
Before he could think of how to even start making this right, though, his sister shook her head. “Your face always was transparent,” she said grimly, meeting his eyes at last. “I know what you’re thinking, Julius, but it doesn’t matter. My duty to Bethesda is a private matter. It’s not something you can sign away with a contract.”
He shook his head. “But—”
“Let it go,” she growled. “Now do you want to hear what’s going on inside the DFZ or not?”
Julius didn’t know what else to say, so he shut his mouth and nodded. Once Bethesda had nodded as well, Chelsie began her report.
“Algonquin’s got her city locked up tight. Her mages were out all night putting up wards on the borders while her anti-dragon task force did sweeps inside the city itself.”
The way she said that made Julius’s blood run cold. “How bad was it?”
“Bad,” Chelsie said. “Let’s just say it’s a really good thing that you and Ian were already gone when it hit. She knew right where we were—safe houses, strongholds, emergency bunkers, everything—and with so many units, she was able to hit multiple clans simultaneously. By the time the warning got out, her teams were everywhere. No one escaped.”
Julius began to sweat. “But what about the dragons who weren’t causing problems? You know, the ones who were just living their lives in—”
“No one,” Chelsie repeated coldly. “There were four Heartstrikers in the DFZ last night: Iris, Gia, Henry, and Jessica. All four were dead before I reached them.”
That last name sent Julius slumping against the door behind him. He’d never particularly liked Jessica, and he didn’t know the others at all, but the thought that four of his siblings were just…dead. It didn’t seem possible. It was barely a month since Jessica had let him stay at her apartment the first night Bethesda had kicked him out to the DFZ. How could she just be gone?
“All things considered, four isn’t bad,” Bethesda said pragmatically, dismissing her daughter with a wave of her hand. “It could have been much worse.”
“But it’s not just dragons she’s hitting,” David pointed out as Chelsie vanished as silently as she’d appeared. “Algonquin’s teams also seized our human assets, our employees, spies, and so forth. The official word is that she’s merely detaining them for questioning, but the day is still young.”
“How can she get away with that?” Julius asked. “DFZ might be Algonquin’s playground, but there’s more to the world than Detroit.”
“There you are correct,” David said. “Arresting humans who’ve broken her laws is one thing, but all the Heartstrikers she killed last night were American citizens in addition to being dragons. Algonquin knew that, but she put their heads on spikes in front of her tower anyway. Critical mistake. America has gone to war over less. I’ve already talked with the president about it, and we’re going to lodge a formal complaint along with the resumption of strict sanctions starting this afternoon. It won’t stop her, but the loss of trade should slow her down until we can get our clan back on its feet. Provided, of course, that Julius allows us to do so.”
“He shouldn’t be allowing us to do anything,” Bethesda said, glaring down at Julius with a look designed to make him feel one inch tall. “The only reason he’s on this Council at all is because none of the other Fangs could be bothered. If this Council of his survives one year, I’ll be amazed.”
The malice in her voice was enough to make Julius flinch, but for once, that was as far as it went. His mother was still terrifying, still cruel and conniving, but he was no longer the same dragon he’d
been. He might never be able to face his mother without flinching, but that didn’t change the weight of the sword on his hip or the bulk of the paper contract he still clutched in his hand. The one she’d signed on her knees when he’d spared her life, giving him the power to say what he was going to say next.
“There will be a vote,” he said, amazed that his voice didn’t shake. “Algonquin will always be a threat. We have a much better chance of standing up to her if we do it together, but we can’t do that if Bethesda keeps trying to wiggle out of her agreements.”
His mother’s eyes flashed with anger, and Julius put a proactive hand on his sword. “David is right. We need to get our clan up and running again as soon as possible. That said, a surprise election where the only candidate is your chosen successor is not acceptable. So, since this is supposed to be a Council, I suggest we compromise and have the vote tonight. It’s still too fast, but at least this way everyone will have a chance to actually get to the mountain and learn what’s going on before we spring this on them. That way, if one of them wants to run, they’ll have a few hours to prepare, giving us a chance at a fair election.”
“Or an epic mess,” Bethesda snarled. “You have no idea the can of snakes you’re opening here, but I suppose a good compromise should leave no one happy.” She sighed. “Fine. I don’t see how a few hours will make a difference, but if it will shut you up, we’ll have the vote tonight at six.”
He’d been thinking eight, but Julius was ready to take what he could get. They’d only been at this for fifteen minutes, and he was already exhausted.
To be fair, part of that was natural. Between everything that had happened last night and visiting Marci this morning, he hadn’t actually gotten a chance to sleep last night. Or the night before. Now that he thought about it, actually, he hadn’t slept since Marci had left with Amelia after they’d failed to break the Sword of Damocles. Given how much of that he’d spent fighting, fleeing, and being otherwise terrified for his life, Julius was amazed he was still conscious. But while he definitely felt run down, he wasn’t nearly as bad as he should have been. Apparently, being unsealed had done a lot more for him than he’d first realized. Now he just had to escape this room before his mother sapped what little energy he had left.