Sin's Dark Caress

by Tracey O'Hara

  “Oh yes,” Corey said. “It’s their favorite meat.”

  A sick feeling settled in her stomach. “No!”

  “What? You didn’t think they played with them, did you? Actually, now that I come to think of it, they do, but it’s rather disturbing to watch.”

  McManus rose unsteadily to his feet. Although more than a little singed around the edges, with clothes almost completely destroyed, he didn’t seem all that worse for wear.

  O’Shea sat behind his desk and looked around, surveying his ruined office. She’d made quite a mess. Papers were strewn over the floor, paintings hung crooked on the walls or had fallen altogether, and furniture was overturned.

  “I think it’s time we talked,” Rudolf said.

  “About why you tried burn me to death, old man?” McManus growled. “And what the hell are you doing here in the first place?”

  “In answer to you second question first . . .” Rudolf straightened his shoulders. “I came here to talk to Mr. O’Shea about what Marcus Hilden promised him in return for his support. And to the first, I knew you wouldn’t burn.”

  “McManus, why don’t you go with Michael and clean up a little,” O’Shea said. “You look like shit.”

  The detective looked down at his ruined suit, and his eyes appeared even bluer with his soot-blackened face. “Okay, but I’ll be right back.” The head of security, still nursing his broken wrist in a sling, led the detective from the room.

  “Dr. Sin, please take a seat.” O’Shea gestured to one of the fat comfortable chairs still upright.

  Kedrax crawled into her lap and curled up. Almost without thinking, she stroked him. He closed his eyes and purred like a cat. For the first time since Lucinda’s death, she felt calm.

  Luce!

  Then the grief landed on her, and tears that had been building behind her eyes threatened to erupt. No here, please, not here.

  “You know,” Corey O’Shea said, “I could sense you were different, but I had no idea how different.” He steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a dragon, even one that small.”

  Kedrax’s head rose from his paws and glanced up at her and then to the man sitting behind the desk.

  “You can see him?” she asked.

  “Of course. I’m Unari.”

  The ringing phone on his desk cut off any further conversation. He listened for a moment and then said, “Interesting,” before hanging up.

  McManus came back wearing a borrowed suit. It stretched tight across his broad shoulders and was a little snug over his thighs. His face was clean except for one charcoal smudge near his left ear.

  “I know who leased the property,” O’Shea said.

  She spun to look at the drug lord, coming out of her seat. “Who?”

  He sat there looking at them for a moment longer, then shook his head. “Do either of you know how miraculous you both are?”

  “Cut the shit and tell us who rented the fucking house,” McManus said, his old menace returning with full force.

  “You shouldn’t be here, either of you,” O’Shea continued, ignoring him. “You’re relics of a long forgotten past.”

  “We can go into that in a minute, Corey,” Rudolf said. “I’m quite interested in the answer myself.”

  Bianca held her breath. Something inside her shivered with anticipation, not only because of what he knew about the house, but also of what he knew about them.

  He looked at the old man and nodded. “The Hilden Group has held the lease for the past three years.”

  The air rushed out her lungs as if she’d been sucker punched. “No, that can’t be right.” But it made sense. They had seen two close relatives of Tiffany Hilden at the address.

  “Come on,” McManus said, taking her arm and pulling her to her feet. “Let’s go and talk to the Domina.”

  “We can’t just barge in—”

  “Did you know the last dragon witch died over five thousand years ago?” Corey O’Shea said before they reached the door. “My grandfather used to tell me stories about them. I never thought I’d meet one myself. But to find one with a warrior of the dragon elite, well that was a real surprise.”

  McManus frowned. “What the hell are you babbling about, O’Shea?”

  “I think it’s probably best to just show you,” Rudolf said. “Lord Sagen,” he called aloud.

  42

  Dragon Heart

  A blinding white light surrounded McManus, and the ground fell away from beneath him. When he landed, he stumbled in darkness until his eyes cleared and adjusted. He found the darkness wasn’t as complete as he first thought. He was in what appeared to be an underground cavern about the size of a baseball stadium. He’d never seen anything more beautiful. Columns and pillars were carved into the walls, and beautiful scrollwork had been etched into the rock but was worn by centuries of warm moist air.

  Strange orange bulbous plants, or some sort of giant fungus, ringed a natural crystal-clear pool that filled a third of the area below. He got the impression there was nothing natural about it. A glow coming from the pool painted the surrounding white walls with a surreal watery light.

  He stood near Bianca and Rudolf by the pool that cast a luminous glow over their features. The tiny dragon still clung to her shoulder. He moved to the edge. The water rippled and shimmied every now and then, almost as if something moved just beneath the surface. But nothing was there—the water was completely pristine.

  “Where are we?” he asked, and wrinkled his nose at the scent of corruption and rotting flesh. There was something else too, but he couldn’t quite place it.

  Bianca looked at him with an odd expression. “I don’t know.”

  “You have brought me something.” A deep rumbling voice resonated off the cavern walls around them.

  “Yes, my lord,” Rudolf yelled up into the cavernous darkness. “Something very special.”

  Torches burst into life, momentarily blinding him. A deafening snap cut through the still air, followed by a heavy downward gust and a loud whapping noise, like giant bat wings flapping. An enormous shape descended from above and landed by the pool, crushing some of the pale orange fungus trees and sending an orange cloud of spores into the air.

  Metallic blues and greens flashed across the colossal beast’s hide as it moved, though they seemed somewhat duller than Kedrax’s. The giant head, as large as a small car, lowered, and the diagonal slit in the huge yellow eye contracted in the torchlight.

  The creature turned his head and looked at Bianca. “I see you have brought me a snack.”

  McManus pulled her behind him and reached into his jacket for his gun. Except all he found was an empty holster. “You can’t have her, dragon.”

  “Then I’ll have you.” The dragon’s terrible jaws opened to reveal a mouthful of razor sharp teeth and a large grayish blue tongue.

  “Try me, but I warn you, I’ll give you such a bellyache.”

  “No,” Bianca cried, clutching his jacket. “You can’t do this.”

  A booming rumble rebounded off the walls, and the dragon sat back on his hind legs, his massive body shaking. “Such a bellyache . . . this one has spirit. Do not fear, little witch,” it said shaking its head. “You are in no danger from me. Neither are you, my brave warrior.”

  “You’re just joking?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Sorry.” The huge creature landed back on all four feet, this time not so gently, and seemed to wince. “There is little to amuse me down here, but your meat is far too sweet for my taste.”

  “Lord Sagen has been a guardian against the Dark Brethren for several millennia,” Rudolf said, indicating the pool.

  “And most of it spent slumbering in this cavern as the Dark Brethren’s jailer,” Sagen said. “But now I grow old and weak.”

  �
��My lord, the Unari have agreed to help if they can.”

  The dragon lifted his massive head a little. “This pleases me greatly.”

  Rudolf bowed. “Yes, but their race is diminished, they’re not as powerful as they once were.”

  “Why?” McManus said. “They’re running drugs, committing crimes, and killing people.”

  Rudolf smiled. “Actually, their reputation has been highly exaggerated. That brother of his is deadly with weapons, though, and his reputation well earned.”

  McManus remembered the drug lord had said something similar.

  Again the dragon chuckled low and deep. “The Fae are like children. Selfish, self-centered, and undisciplined. But they bring magic to the world. The Unari are much like their charges.”

  “So why are we here?” McManus asked. “What’s the point? You’re talking about prison cells, dragon jailers, and Fae, but what does it have to do with us? ”

  Sagen turned in a slow circle and moved his massive head closer to McManus. “Are you sure this one is a warrior elite, fit for the Draconis Nocti? He seems much too angry to me.” Dragons were condescending. Who fucking knew?

  Sagen sniffed at him. “He’s not ready.”

  “You’re damn right I’m not ready. In the last few days I’ve found out I’ve been putting faerie piss in my eye and now there are fucking dragons. Not just little toy ones like Bianca’s—”

  “Hey,” Kedrax said.

  He’d almost forgotten the little dragon was there. “I feel like somehow I’ve just woken up and the whole world has been turned upside down.” He tossed his hands in the air. “Next thing you know, angels will descend from heaven and demons will crawl up from hell.”

  The dragon tilted his giant head. “Angels and demons are myths, devised by humans to give their actions consequences.”

  McManus laughed. How ironic. An icon of the biggest fairy tales creatures had just proclaimed the foundations of some of the largest religions in the world as mythology.

  “Good,” Sagen said. “The stench of your fear grows less offensive.”

  The dragon was right. He was afraid, and he hated feeling that way almost as much as he hated helplessness.

  Sagen turned back to Bianca. “I see you have my gift. Come to me little one.”

  Kedrax climbed from Bianca’s shoulder and scampered closer to Sagen. The larger dragon lowered his head to his tiny counterpart, who purred loudly and rubbed his cheek against the scaly hide. They started speaking in some strange language that felt oddly familiar.

  The dragon looked up. “I’m happy to see the spell worked well. Kedrax says there has been some pain with his accelerated growth, but nothing he can’t handle.”

  “You did this?” Bianca asked.

  “Yes, young witch. I woke the dragon tear when I sensed its presence through you. I will have need of this little one to find a replacement for me. I feel I only have eight or nine hundred years left in me. I must train my replacement.”

  “This has to be some weird-ass dream,” McManus whispered under his breath. “There are no such thing as dragons.”

  “And yet here we stand,” Sagen said. “Trust me, young warrior. Dragons live, but most slumber as I have, to stay out of the way of humans.”

  The pool rippled and shifted. A distinct hand impression pushed against the surface. Sagen’s face crumpled in pain. A strange sensation twisted McManus’s gut and he doubled over with a grunt.

  As the sensation subsided, the dragon moved closer and the pool returned to crystal calmness. “You felt it too?”

  Sweat beaded on his brow. “Oh God, I felt like my insides were being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste.”

  “Maybe you are more ready than I thought,” Sagen said with a tilt of his car-sized head. “The Dark Brethren grow stronger much faster than anticipated. The spark renewed my life force, but my strength is returning more slowly than I’d like.”

  “I told you, McManus,” Rudolf said. “Long ago, when the dragons were lords in this world, they were served by human such as us.”

  “How do you know so much about it?” Bianca asked.

  “Because I served another like Lord Sagen several centuries ago,” Rudolf said. “And I was the only one near when my lady died, leaving me the recipient of her dragon light, or soul, so to speak.” He opened his shirt. A visible glowing heart beat within the center of his chest. “However, I was not a warrior of the elite. Even though I was given centuries upon centuries of extended life, I could never be a true warrior of the Draconis Nocti, as I didn’t have the gift to withstand fire or the ability to wield it.”

  “Are you saying that’s what I am?” McManus asked.

  Rudolf nodded.

  Bianca shook her head. “The Draconis Nocti are a highly trained black ops team. We have just resurrected them.”

  “The original Draconis Nocti served the dragons long before the name was borrowed in the modern incarnation,” Rudolf said. “But their purpose is the same. When the dragons started to retire from the world, the warriors disappeared.”

  Another ripple in the pool brought McManus to his knees.

  “The longer he’s in your presence, the stronger your connection,” the old man said to the dragon.

  McManus’s heart continued to beat fast as the pain subsided. “There’ve been a rash of ritual murders,” he said. “Bianca thinks they’re preparing some kind of spell that has to do with this Dark Brethren.”

  Sagen nodded. “Yes, I’ve felt them stirring, getting stronger. How is the ritual performed?”

  “Dark thaumaturgy is used to generate a mystic pregnancy that grows a fetus to term in minutes,” Bianca explained, “where it is harvested from the mother’s uterus, killing her.”

  The dragon’s head tilted, like he was listening to something they couldn’t hear. “Are the mothers all from different castes of the craft?” he asked.

  Bianca nodded.

  “The ritual of Inok,” the dragon said to Rudolf.

  The old man nodded sadly. “I was afraid of that. If the ritual succeeds, they’ll open the portal to the Dark Brethren prison. The last time the ritual was even attempted, the Mayan civilization disappeared.”

  “So how do we stop it?” McManus asked.

  The dragon didn’t even flinch. “Kill the infants.”

  McManus reeled and shook his head. “No!”

  Bianca clutched his arm. “You can’t just murder innocent babes.”

  Sagen rose up, looming above them, full of indignation. “They’re the by-product of the blackest magic. It’s the only way to prevent the ritual from succeeding.”

  Bianca shook her head. “There has to be some other way.”

  McManus could’ve sworn the dragon shrugged. “It’s the surest way. Take away the means and the spell can’t be performed. The infants are the means.”

  “What would stop them from performing the ritual again and creating more babies?” she asked.

  Rudolf frowned. “I think there is something special about these infants, something that would be difficult to recreate. That’s why they did a dry run first.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Angel,” McManus said. “We didn’t find her baby on the map because it was of no use and they killed it. Practice on a homeless girl before risking it with the real ones. That makes sense now.”

  “Blood is the key,” Sagen said.

  “How do you know?” McManus asked.

  The dragon practically smiled. “Blood is always the key.”

  “The babies are linked by blood?” McManus mused aloud. “They’re born of blood, do you think that could be it?”

  “We have to get out of here,” Bianca said. “I must stop my mother from handing over the girls to Ursula. She’s the only family Luce had except Amy and Hannah.”

  “And so
meone from the Hilden family too, but which one?” Rudolf added.

  “I don’t know,” McManus said. “But I think Astrid Hilden does.”

  “You’re right,” Bianca agreed. “I have to talk to her, and I think I know a way.”

  “Close your eyes,” the dragon said. “And I’ll send you back.”

  43

  The Gift of Sympathy

  “Thanks for coming with me, Artemisia,” Bianca whispered to her mother as they sat in the Hilden family home waiting for their host.

  A girl entered carrying a tray loaded with cakes and coffee. She smiled at them, inclining her head as she put the tray on the low coffee table, and left again.

  “Are you sure about this?” her mother asked. “I mean I’ve had my issues with Gayla but I just can’t imagine she’d be involved with anything like this.”

  “It makes sense,” she said. “If—”

  Gayla Hilden’s personal assistant, Mistress Tesha, entered the room and sat on the edge of the sofa opposite. “The Domina will be with us a moment. But while we wait—can I offer you some refreshments?”

  “Thank you,” Artemisia said. “You’re most kind.”

  Bianca was in no mood for tea but accepted anyway. A veneer of politeness was the essence of witch culture. Tesha’s full-lipped smile never reached her large ebony eyes as she poured tea into delicate porcelain cups from the matching teapot.

  “So.” Artemisia took a sip and placed the cup back on the saucer. “How’s Astrid been since the funeral?”

  “As well as one can be expected.” The witch’s eyes flicked to the side. “When one has lost a daughter.”

  Bianca could almost taste the lie.

  “The family is lucky to have you here at a time like this,” Artemisia said, taking another sip of tea. Flattery had always been one her mother’s best weapons. “You must be such a welcome comfort for the Domina.”

  “I do what I can,” Tesha said, and this time the smile did reach her eyes.

  “I can only imagine what she must be going through.” Artemisia took Bianca’s hand and patted it. “If I lost my Bianca, I don’t know what I’d do. Would we be able to pass on my condolences to Astrid in person? I know we haven’t been that close in years, but—”