by Maya Daniels
“I can’t protect you there, Drake.” Staring at the large black screen of the TV, he sighs. “The moment Alexius catches a glimpse of me he will be gone … if he shows up at all.”
“I’m not really a damsel if you haven’t noticed.” Licking the few drops still lingering on my lower lip, I lean in to place the glass on the low table. “Why are you so hell bent on protecting me anyway? I understand the need for you to make sure I don’t end up a blood mare for Roberti, but this?” Waving a hand in his stern face, my cheeks puff out in frustration. “This is obsession, not duty, and it certainly isn’t a friend caring for a friend.”
“Apart from Soren, you are the only other dragon blood known in existence.” Turning to me, he rubs the back of his neck. “The oath I gave you yesterday was just a confirmation to you. I made that oath centuries ago when I chose to join the Academy. Your bloodline doesn’t make you a shifter, but it’s strong enough that regardless of you being a half blood, it trumps any other genetics. It makes you the most unique being in all the realms.”
I blink at him.
“I still don’t understand how your father managed to hide what he is, but I have a suspicion Soren had something to do with it.” His nostrils flare. “When dragons decided to leave and retreat to a realm only known to them, they still honored their bond to the Fae that were loyal to them to the very end. Only one bloodline was given the power of having dragon magic—or as some call it, dragon soul—in their veins. Your father from that lineage does, and so do you. At present, you and Soren are the only connection we have with the dragons. We can’t lose that.”
“Okay.” Dragging the word out, I still don’t understand why he needs to be so uptight.
“If we lose the dragon bloodline, we lose our connection to the dragons. Their magic is holding everything together. My own realm, Sienna, and other realms. It’ll all collapse on its own if that bond breaks. And that’s not the worst of it.” Taking a deep breath, his gaze flicks on mine. “Without that connection, all the wards that keep the old gods out of our worlds will be void.”
“The book.” Ice replaces the blood in my veins.
“Now you see why I don’t want you anywhere near this gala?”
“I will not hide while Zoltan suffers.” A lump forms in my throat, choking me. “I understand how important it is for me to keep breathing. Trust me, no one wants that more than I do, but you know as well as I that I’m his only chance. I’m hoping Roberti’s need for me will keep Zoltan alive until we find him.” Fenrir twists his mouth in displeasure. “I’m not planning on playing a hero, Fenrir. Because of me, he is being held hostage. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but even half-bloods have honor when it comes to things like this.”
“You have more honor than most pure bloods I know.”
“So, what’s the problem then?”
“Zoltan will skin me alive if anything happens to you.” Deflating, he plops back on the couch, his lips twitching.
“Neither you nor Zoltan are my keepers. This is what I’ve been doing my whole adult life, and I have no intention of stopping now.” Playing with a button on my top, I admit out loud what I haven’t voiced before. “I don’t know how to be anything else. If I don’t do what I’m doing, then I have nothing. I am nothing.”
“There is a lot more to you Francesca Drake than you know.” Taking my fumbling fingers away from the button, he gives me a reassuring squeeze.
“Too bad I can’t grow a tail and wings, huh?” My attempt to break the tension works and he grins at me. “If I could, I’d be flapping those suckers all over the place.”
“I would expect nothing else.” He looks so serious I giggle like an idiot.
“Are we getting a backup for tonight or will it be just us?” I watch him play with my fingers, turning them around in his hand. “If we do follow him, there might be a shit load of hunters there.”
“That’s why Leo left with just his pants on. He should be coming back here through the portal any moment.” A long pause stretches before he peeks at my face. “I need you to promise me that at the first sign of trouble you’ll be out of there, Drake.”
“I want to kill that fucker more than anyone, but I’m not stupid Fenrir.”
“I’ll have to wait outside with our back up. I need your word.”
“I promise I’m not going to do anything to get myself captured or killed.”
“Thank you.” His shoulders relax for a second before stiffening again. “About Myst …”
“Oh hell no.” Snatching my hand away, I flap it frantically in his face. “Not my problem and I don’t care. I’m not touching that subject with a ten-foot pole.”
“Just be careful and watch your back. I don’t trust her; she’s unpredictable.”
“Like me, you mean?” When he opens his mouth to argue, I laugh. “Don’t worry Fae, I don’t trust anyone … yet,” I add when he gives me a pointed look to remind me of my promise to try.
“I come baring gifts.” The front door flings open and Astara waltzes inside with both arms full of bags. “I’ve forgotten how much fun it is to shop.”
“Did you buy an entire store?” Jumping on my knees, I lean over the back of the couch to watch her spread the bags all over the place.
“No, but just because we are going there to find that piece of shit doesn’t mean we can’t do it in style.” Triumphantly, she unzips one garment bag to reveal a simple but elegant black dress. “This right here is a show-stopper.”
“You know you’re not supposed to attract attention there, right?” If Fenrir’s words are any dryer a cloud of dust will putt out of his mouth.
“I’m not going anywhere dressed in rags.” Astara lifts her chin defiantly. “Besides, this is all on Zoltan’s credit card. An early thank you from my dear brother for saving his ass.”
I smile at her cheerfulness. I’ve been avoiding her out of guilt, thinking she is drowning in misery and blaming me for everything. Her liveliness might have something to do with the idea that we might find where Zoltan is tonight, but I’d like to think she knows her brother will handle whatever Roberti has set up for him while planning a good revenge in the process. If he asks for tips, I’ll give him some of the ones that have been piling up in my head, too.
“Go dress.” Throwing both hands in the air in defeat, Fenrir shoos us away. “Fates help whoever has to deal with both of you together. I’m glad I’ll be on the sidelines.” At my raised eyebrow, he grins. “You made a promise Drake. If you break it, I’ll lock you up under the Academy where you’ll stay for a couple of decades to see the error of your ways.”
11
The city passes in a blur while I stare out the window. The long, sleek car Fenrir has pick us up has enough space to have a sleepover inside it. My hand glides over the leather absentmindedly while my gaze is focused on the reflection on the glass.
A stranger stares back at me.
Long, straight black hair falls around my shoulders. My skin is pale, which makes me look more like a vampire than a half blood. Dark eyes blink back at me with the lazy flutter of thick lashes. Astara has transformed me into someone I’ve never met before. Glancing at her from the corner of my eye, I’m still stunned how natural her transformation looks. Red locks are piled on top of her head with tendrils curling around her face. Every time she looks my way, I startle by the light green color of her eyes. Wigs and contact lenses combine with a lot of make-up, making us strangers sharing this luxury car.
Hopefully it’ll fool Alex as much as it does me.
“This is my stop,” Fenrir murmurs, looking like his old self when the car stops. “Remember to stay focused and no going off script. Especially you Drake.”
I stare at him.
“We got this Fenrir,” Astara assures him. “Just make sure we don’t lose him if he senses something is off.”
Fenrir keeps his gaze locked on mine. I hope he doesn’t see all the thoughts jumbled there. Because do we? Do we have this?
I’
m not so sure.
“I’ll see you both shortly.” Pulling his probing eyes away from my face, he slides to the door and cracks it open. “The glamour will hold, so just keep character.” With that, he leaves the car.
I jolt slightly when the door closes with a thump.
“Will I react to the humans here like the first time I was around them?” Voicing my worry, I don’t look at Astara. My hand still moves on the seat like I’m treading water, my fingers grazing the leather gently.
“The sigils will hold, Franky.” Sinking further in the seat, Astara sighs while leaning her head back. “Nothing ever goes wrong when Fenrir does it.”
Turning my left wrist, I pull the long sleeve of the dress to see the markings. Two sigils, their black lines twining together like vines, sit on my skin. I feel the magic thrum under my skin but I’m still nervous. I’m not like the rest of them. No one can be sure it’ll work on me like it does on everyone else. I don’t know how I feel knowing there is a possibility I can go crazy and attack everyone.
“Myst will meet us there?” Tugging the fabric to cover the markings, I take a deep breath.
“We are about to find out.” She tilts her chin at the window.
The car stops in front of a building that looks like a diamond bracelet, the mirrored walls curving around and twinkling in the city lights. Metal poles hold a glass façade jutting out and reaching for the street. Spotlights beam brightly at the entrance where humans who are dressed to impress move like they belong here. I curl my fingers in, the nails biting the skin of my palm to cover the nerves.
I can do this.
Zoltan’s life is at stake.
Astara glides out of the car and steps to the side. My sweaty palm slips on the leather when I slide across the seat to exit. It’s a good thing it’s night and the harsh light is tolerable to my eyes. For some reason, my sight is a problem in this world of humans. Astara moves, almost prowling along the stretch of concrete to the open doors. I follow her lead, watching the emerald silk of her dress swish between her feet. It’s similar to mine in length, and it looks painted on instead of like a fabric to protect us. Where hers is held by thin straps on her shoulders, the front draping all the way to her navel and giving a tantalizing glimpse of her breasts, mine is blood red, closed to my neck with long sleeves covering everything but my face.
That’s the front.
A cool breeze sends goosebumps down my spine. My dress has no back, leaving my skin exposed all the way to my tailbone. The silk shifts with each step I take. A shiver rakes my insides. I don’t like being exposed like this. Only the tight grip I keep on the clutch in my hand, my blades hidden inside and poking my palm, keeps me calm. I hope the burning between my shoulder blades is because Fenrir and Leo are watching me. I have a very bad feeling about tonight.
By the time I’m standing in a large circular room with a flute of Champagne in my hand, I’ve already mapped out four exits. The back of the room is a dead end and the front is too exposed to do anything without being noticed. Astara is chatting with an elderly couple, giving the silver-haired lady kisses on both cheeks.
My gaze skips from face to face as I search for Alex.
“One o’clock, next to the woman with all the fur wrapped around her,” Myst says from behind my shoulder.
I feel her approach at my back and it takes everything in me not to turn around. Sipping from my drink to cover my unease, I shift slightly so I can see her, my eyes moving to where she tells me Alex is.
“I see.” The crystal in my hand cracks, so I force my fingers to unclench before it shatters.
The asshole is laughing at something the woman says, her hawkish face bathed in lust while she eats him with her eyes. I guess he has no qualms at using what he is to make humans drool over him. Her hand lifts, her long, pointed nails digging in the fabric of his tux where she grips his forearm.
“Who’s that?” I ask Myst, but I stare intently at Astara in hopes that she’ll notice and come closer.
“One of the Directors of the board.” Myst slinks closer, her head constantly moving from side to side like we are not both watching the vampire with rapt attention. “I’m not sure if it’s just him being himself and gloating because he gets under her skin, or he has plans involving the Red Cross that we know nothing about. Either way, it’s something to think about, for sure.”
“I thought you worked for him. Shouldn’t you know?” Astara finally says her goodbyes and heads our way.
“You’d think, right?” Myst answers a bit too cheerfully.
“Let’s move closer, shall we?” Astara takes my elbow, throwing her head back and laughing like I just told her the best joke of the century.
Every head in our vicinity turns to stare at her. I cringe internally. Didn’t she say we shouldn’t attract attention? My gaze jumps to Alex and I have to force myself to move smoothly without stiffening. He zones in on us like the predator that he is. My heart jumps in my throat when I realize he will recognize Myst. She has no glamour, at least not that I know of.
“He won’t see her; she has her talents.” Reading my panic, Astara grins at me like we are still having that funny conversation from a moment ago and pulls me along with her.
I’m too aware of Alex following us with his gaze.
“Well, you got his attention.” Pushing the words through unmoving lips, I find it difficult to keep the smile plastered on my face. I’ve never been a good actress.
“Good.” I have no time to ask what the hell she means by that when she stops me in front of a tall male with salt and pepper hair, his tux stretching over his broad shoulders.
“Governor, how very nice to see you this evening.” Her purring, sultry voice makes the male turn to us immediately, which leaves the people talking to his back.
“Ms. Robins, how very nice indeed.” The male beams at her like she’s best thing after bread and butter. “You look as lovely as always.”
I turn my head to give Myst a raised eyebrow. Her fake name is enough to make me almost swallow my tongue when I finally take a good look at the woman. Platinum hair stretched painfully in a high ponytail sits on top of her head. Her blue gaze is like sparkling oceans staring at me. Myst is almost a head shorter than me, so whatever her talents are, I wish she did my glamour. Then I see her dress. Or what should be a dress but it’s more a turtleneck barely covering the juncture of her thighs. Her shoes only have a sole. Black fabric crisscrosses around her foot, moving up her ankle to her knee where it’s tied into a pretty bow.
She winks at me.
“I see you haven’t lost your charm since the last time I saw you.” Astara jerks my head back to the conversation. “Oh, how rude of me. This is Ms. Atkins, a friend of mine that specializes in genetics. I was so excited to introduce you.” Both Astara and the male turn to look at me.
I blink.
Oh shit, she’s talking about me.
“A pleasure, Ms. Atkins.” The governor lifts his palm.
I stare at his hand like it’s a snake that will bite me. When my brain gets online again and I see he is waiting on me to take it, my arm jerks in his direction—the one holding a drink. Astara tips my elbow and Champagne soaks the poor male’s tux from chest to groin. I’m mortified, the blood curdling in my veins.
“Oh, dear.” Myst gasps, snatching a tablecloth from the nearest table. “It’s a good thing it’s white.” Giggling, she pats the governor with it, and by the reddening on his face and the shifting of his feet, she is probably groping him for all I know. He doesn’t look like he minds.
“It’s fine. It happens.” He sounds strained but offers me a glazed smile. I frown at that. “It’s one use only, anyway.” He indicates his tux with a wave of a hand.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, still not understanding why these two are going off script and making a debacle that will surely give Fenrir a coronary.
“You are such a klutz.” Astara swats my arm playfully. “It’s a good thing she’s smart. Her head is alwa
ys in her research. She’s a disaster waiting to happen, I tell ya,” she says to the governor.
“Right.” His smile is strained. It might have something to do with Myst still rubbing the fabric all over his stomach and hip area. “A geneticist you said?”
“It’s an obsession of hers.” Astara nods at me like she expects me to confirm this insanity.
Both her and the governor are watching me, so I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Yes.” I sound faint, so I clear my throat. “I’m obsessed with …” What the hell am I supposed to be obsessed with? “Blood,” I finish lamely, plastering a smile that must make me look constipated on my face.
Myst chokes.
I’m going to kill Astara after we get out of here.
“Well you’ve come to the right place then.” The governor laughs heartedly, finally grabbing Myst by the shoulders and peeling her away from his body. She gives him a sheepish smile and bats her eyelashes.
I snort.
This is so fucking ridiculous I want to laugh. Imagining Fenrir’s face when he sees this display just adds to the hysteria bubbling in my chest. Another ungraceful snort escapes me and the governor’s lips twitch. That’s all it takes. I burst out laughing, the three of them joining me a second later. Pressing my fingers under my eyes, I hope I don’t mess up my makeup because of the tears about to spill over.
“What lovely company you keep, Governor.” The voice from behind Astara is like a bucket of cold water being thrown over a burning fire. I’m the only one without a smile left on my face. “Mind if I join you?”
Astara shifts to the side and I lock eyes with Alexius. It’s a herculean effort not to let my fangs drop and rip his throat out. On a good note, he doesn’t seem to recognize any of us, so I guess the glamour holds after all. That doesn’t help to slow the galloping in my chest, though. Seeing his nostrils flare and the glint in his eyes, I’m hoping he will assume it’s from excitement and not murderous rage. The governor might yet see how obsessed I am with blood if I paint the walls here with this asshole’s insides.