Age of Dragons

by Olivia Ash

  As a former Spectre, it's surreal and uncomfortably strange to actually have someone in my contacts, much less listed under their real name. We used burner phones and never had any contact saved. Every number had to be memorized.

  Yet again, I have to remind myself that this is a different world.

  “I need to take this,” I say.

  Harper nods, still watching the fight as I walk away from the grate, just in case they can hear me.

  I hold the phone to my ear, lips parted to speak when Irena interrupts me.

  “The traitors have been dealt with,” she says simply, her voice grim and dark.

  I pause. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” she says quickly.

  Too quickly.

  “Irena,” I chide softly.

  “I sustained a few injuries,” she says, and I can practically imagine her shrugging. “Nothing major. Nothing worth telling you about.”

  “You know that's not what I mean.”

  She hesitates and a small sigh filters through the phone. “I've been better, Rory.”

  “Was it hard?” I ask, hoping she knows what I mean.

  Was it hard to kill someone you loved?

  Was it hard to look at someone who used to share her bed, and kill him? Who made her happy at a time when there was very little to be joyful about?

  “Of course, it was hard,” she says quietly. “Especially Benjamin.” She sighs, and I hear the rustle of fabric as she leans against a wall. “But this is the kind of lover I'm used to, Rory. I never know if I can trust him or not.”

  “It doesn't have to be that way anymore,” I point out.

  “Yeah. You've definitely figured it out,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “You learned how to trust. Maybe someday I can too,” she says, pausing briefly.

  “Eric's a good man,” I point out. “He can help you with that.”

  “Not now, Rory,” Irena says, her voice getting a little distant as her mouth moves away from the phone. “Now, listen. Zurie has some secured lines she’s been using to discuss this attack the General is planning. It’s pretty clear she’s involved. I just need to figure out how.”

  My throat tightens with concern. My sister is playing with fire. “Has she spotted you?”

  “She knows I’m a threat,” Irena says, not really answering my question. “I’m staying ahead of her.”

  “I know I don’t have to tell you to be careful,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut with dread. “But—”

  “I know. Be careful,” Irena says, laughing. “I am, and I’ll come back the moment things get hairy. Promise.”

  “Thanks.” I sigh and rub my eyes. “Were any of your contacts viable and trustworthy?”

  “That’s a stretch, but I can at least say they’re useful.” She hesitates. “I won’t give anyone the level of access Benjamin had. I’ve learned that lesson.”

  “Well, no, that’s not what I meant.” Out of habit, I lift my hand to stop her before this goes any further, even though she’s not here to see it. “This is a new life for us both, and it's going to take a little bit of opening up and trying something new for us to really figure this out. Live a little. See how Eric makes you feel.” I pause, wondering if my next suggestion is taking it too far, but I say it anyway. “Train with Harper.”

  “Let me handle one thing at a time,” Irena says, chuckling.

  “I just don't want you to run from this forever,” I admit as I absently play with the ends of my hair. “Don't let this Benjamin guy keep you from being happy. Don't let Zurie's brainwashing from when we were kids keep you from accepting who you are now.” I pause. “What you are now,” I add.

  Irena groans playfully. “Yes, Sensei Rory.”

  I roll my eyes. “Just come back to me in one piece.”

  “I'll try,” she says, and the line goes dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  In the week since Jace's announcement, it's been tough to keep myself busy. The men disappear regularly, only to come back with stories of how they've tested Russell in new and fascinating ways.

  Battle strategies played out on a large scale, like a life-size game of chest.

  Sparring in the mists, on the mountains, in deadly regions.

  Mind games that test his resolve and his limits.

  Basically, fun, and I’m not allowed to be a part of any of it.

  I've been able to watch a few of the trials, giving Harper my notes and thoughts on Russell—his weaknesses and his strengths, mainly. For the most part, I simply train by myself.

  The time away from the chaos is kind of nice, and I often enjoy the solitude of the late nights I spend on the back courtyard running through forms.

  I keep thinking about Zurie. About Irena.

  About what's coming for us all.

  Irena has called me twice this week—which is a lot, given how deep she had to go into our old network of Spectre associates. Always keeping one step ahead of Zurie has been a daunting task, but Irena’s capable.

  She always ends every call the same way.

  “Don’t worry, baby sister. I’m not going to let myself get caught.”

  Irena’s close to figuring out Zurie’s plan.

  I can feel it.

  I just hate how close to the Ghost she’s getting as she figures it out.

  As the midnight moon wears on, I spin a blade over my head in the back courtyard, exhaling as I run through another familiar form. One Zurie taught me.

  With my eyes peeled, I scan my periphery while I decapitate imaginary enemies, moonlight glinting off the cold steel of my sword as I spin it around me.

  Tucker will be released from the medic ward tomorrow. I've been checking on him several times a day, and the poor man is bouncing off the walls, eager to get back into the fray.

  I can't blame him, and I'm grateful for the dragon magic that helps me heal more quickly than I did as a human.

  But that's one of the many things I love about Tucker. He reminds me of where I came from. He keeps me grounded. No matter how much dragon magic I possess, he helps me retain my humanity and keep a connection to the past, even if it's only to teach me something about the future.

  There’s a rustle at the top step overlooking the small courtyard I'm currently training in. I lift my blade on impulse, glaring at whoever made the sound, only to find Harper leaning against the railing above me. She watches with a small smile on her face.

  “That's a kickass form,” she says, nodding to the sword. “Will you teach me?”

  “Maybe another time,” I say, relaxing my shoulders as I look up at her. “What's going on? You're not usually up this late.”

  “Remember how I said I would need your help with the candidate’s final exam?” she asks, casually glancing off at the mountains.

  A hit of adrenaline buzzes through me and my breath quickens with anticipation. “It's time?”

  Harper nods.

  I grin, shaking out my shoulders. “Finally! I get to do something.”

  I jog up the stairs, bringing my sword with me. Together, we walk into the embassy and through the halls, Harper leading all the while. I casually carry the sword in my hand, the blade occasionally reflecting light against the wall as we walk through the darker hallways.

  It's a little surreal to me that a Fairfax royal can be so relaxed at my side, especially when I'm armed. It's a strange feeling—a dragon Boss and a dragon assassin, walking shoulder-to-shoulder through a dragon den. Sometimes I forget she leads one of the most powerful dragon families in the world.

  To me, she's not a Boss. She's just my friend.

  Harper pauses at a door deep in the heart of the castle. With her hand on the knob, she hesitates, looking back at me with a strange expression on her face. One I don’t entirely recognize.

  “You trust me, right?” Harper asks. “You know I'll never let any harm come to you? No matter what the situation may seem like?”

  I hesitate, my intuition flaring slightly at th
e odd phrasing. There's something off in the question, something leading, and I wonder what exactly this test is going to be.

  But this is Harper. Time and time again, she's looked out for me. For Jace. Even for Irena.

  “Yeah,” I say with a small nod. “I think by now you've earned that.”

  Harper smiles, genuine gratitude on her face as her eyes wrinkle slightly with appreciation. The door swings open, and she leads me into the room.

  There's a chair against the far wall with latches and iron embedded in the wood. It reminds me a little bit of an electric chair with its Spartan appearance. Iron orbs sit on the armrests, and it takes me a moment to recognize the same cuffs that Ian put on me are bolted to the chair.

  The cuffs that dampened my and Jace's magic until I shattered them both.

  I hesitate by the exit as Harper shuts the door behind us.

  “That had better be for Russell,” I say, nodding toward it. “Not me.”

  “I'm sorry, Rory,” Harper says, her brows twisting slightly upward as she pats the backrest. “This is part of his exam.”

  “What's the plan, Harper?” I ask, my eyes narrowing in suspicion, not liking this at all.

  I expect her to instantly answer. To dismiss my concerns with a wave of her hand.

  Instead, she looks at me with a strange sort of disappointment on her face, like I failed her test of me.

  Even if I did, I don't care.

  I set my hands on my hips and roll my shoulders back, chin lifted slightly in defiance. This is the sort of situation that could go downhill fast, and it is not too much for me to expect her to explain what she plans to do before I go sitting in a chair that could dampen my magic and keep me contained.

  “I'm not supposed to tell you,” she says, tapping her foot a little bit as she bites her lip. “I can't tell you what the test is or he might be able to pick up on the reality of what’s going on, Rory. I—ugh.” She hesitates, her jaw tensing as she massages her temples and struggles to figure out what she wants to say. “Look, Rory. I need to test Russell's greed. I’m sorry, but that's all I can tell you. Please. I need you to trust me.”

  I frown, studying her big green eyes as they slowly dart between mine.

  Eventually, I just sigh in frustration.

  “Fine,” I concede. “But I swear to the gods themselves that if this gets weird, I'm going to beat your ass. You hear me?”

  A soft laugh escapes her as she taps the backrest of the chair again. “Fair enough.”

  I sit in the chair, hating every moment of this. My dragon curls in discomfort, though it's thankfully not in warning. My dragon’s not scared, but she really hates this.

  Me, too, babe, I think. Me, too.

  I tense slightly as Harper slides my hands into the cuffs bolted to the chair.

  With a sweet and comforting smile over her shoulder, Harper leaves. For several minutes, I'm alone in the room. I keep fidgeting, unable to sit still in the uncomfortable wooden chair, and sweat pools across my palms as my fingers graze the inside of the iron cuffs. My nails drag along the metal, and I grit my teeth in irritation and discomfort.

  I don't like this at all.

  Just to test the cuffs, I summon my magic. White light pools across my skin, but it's harder to reach than usual. It's like I'm drunk and can't quite touch the ribbons of light within me, the ones that are the source of all my power.

  This is—well, different than the cuffs Ian put on me. My magic’s there, it’s just distant. Like the cuffs aren’t quite working right.

  I grit my teeth through the strange sensations, forcing the magic to come to me, asking it to obey. After a while, it does. The cuffs vibrate as I pull my magic in my palms, shuddering like they might break at any moment.

  But they hold.

  I let out a slow breath, releasing the magic, and the vibration slowly stops. I shattered one pair, and if I have to, it’s comforting to know I can shatter another.

  I close my eyes, bracing myself, trying to remind myself that this is just a test. A test for someone else, for that matter. Not me.

  After what feels like an eternity, Harper finally opens the door again, and this time she leads Russell inside. There's no smiling. No light in her eyes. She frowns slightly, a forceful intensity in her gaze as she looks at me and slams the door behind them.

  She's in Boss Mode.

  The test is on. She's serious. No laughter. No lighthearted banter.

  Even though I hate this chair with a passion, I put my game face on, too. It's the focused glare I don anytime I'm on a mission and prepared to kill.

  And I give Russell the brunt of it.

  My jaw tenses slightly as I glare at them both, my eyes darting from one to the other as the silence wears on.

  Russell tenses as his gaze washes over me, and he takes an unconscious step toward the door. I can tell he doesn't like this, either. He isn't sure what's happening, but to him, this doesn't look good.

  “What is this, Miss Fairfax?” he asks, narrowing his eyes slightly as he looks at the Boss.

  Despite the situation, it's so strange to hear him call her that. The rules and laws of the embassy are that he can't use her title—in the dojo, everyone is Miss or Mister. Formality reins, and everyone’s equal.

  Even down here, with no one else watching but the two of us, he’s an incredibly respectful and formal man.

  Harper crosses her arms, leans against the wall, and nods lazily toward me. “Kill her.”

  “What?!” Russell and I shout in unison.

  I pull against the bindings holding me to the chair, my hands curling into fists within the iron cuffs that keep my magic at bay. The heavy, icy sensation of dread sinks clear to my toes, weighing me down as a surge of adrenaline darts through me.

  What the hell kind of test is this?

  I summon my magic again, and even though the iron cuffs tremble beneath my power, the chair manages to keep it at bay. The magic burns in my veins, pushing the limits of the chair.

  I know this is supposed to be a test, but it feels remarkably real.

  There's no way this is how I die.

  Russell squares his shoulders, his mouth set in a grim line as he looks at his Boss—at the woman who runs the family he's belonged to all his life. “That would make Jace go feral,” he says, his brows furrowing as he glares at her. “There's so much wrong with that order.”

  “Jace had his chance,” Harper says flatly, looking at her fingernails. “He betrayed us, Russell. A Fairfax general serves for life, with no greater love than the family. That's the law, and he broke it.” Her gaze shifts toward Russell, her glare heavy and intense. “He’s a criminal, Russell, and a selfish one at that. He betrayed you. He betrayed all of you. Now, I can't kill him outright, but if he goes feral…” She trails off, nodding subtly toward me once again to hint at what she's trying to do.

  I pull on the straps keeping me in place, the leather and metal straining to keep me at bay.

  “You can't be serious,” I say practically snarling.

  “She's your friend,” Russell says, his brow twisting upward as he looks between me and Harper.

  “Friends are for children,” Harper says flatly. “I got what I wanted. Now it's time to cash it in.” She studies Russell's face, calm and composed despite the horrible things she's saying. “Now, kill her.”

  “This isn't what we stand for,” Russell says, pointing at the ground to emphasize what he's saying. “This embassy is built on the idea of protecting those who need it. Of being a refuge and a force for good.”

  “And I'm giving you a chance to control it,” Harper says, lifting her chin defiantly. “I'm giving you power. Authority. Running this dojo is your lifelong dream, isn’t it?” She takes a few steps toward him, her hips swaying in a sultry and seductive manner as she looks him dead in the eye. “If you do this—if you kill her—I will give you everything your heart desires. Fame. Honor. Infamy. Only you and I will ever know about this little… mess down here.”
>
  She hesitates, and from this angle, I can't see her expression anymore.

  But I can see Russell's.

  His square jaw tenses as he looks at her with a strange expression I've never seen on his face before.

  Desire.

  For her.

  Oh, shit.

  I don't know how I missed it before—how I missed the subtle twinge of need in his gaze when he looks at her. Maybe he’s learned to expertly hide it over the years. Perhaps he only betrays it on his face when he’s pushed to his limits.

  The fact is, Russell wants her. Despite his ability to mask his desires, it's suddenly very clear to me that he wants her badly.

  That he might even do anything for her.

  Like kill me.

  “No human should have that much magic,” Harper whispers, and I can barely hear her as she leans toward Russell. “The dragon vessel has brought us nothing but pain and misery and the threat of war.” She circles him, letting the silence settle between them as his gaze shifts toward me.

  Gods above, he's actually considering it.

  She pauses beside him, the two Fairfax dragons watching me as tension crackles through the room.

  And there, the bait is set.

  Now, all we have left to do is wait to see what will happen next.

  “Kill her,” Harper says for the last time. “I need to watch her die.”

  I study Harper's face warily, looking for the tells of a lie. Practically begging to find one.

  And—there, at the corner of her mouth, I finally see it. The lie. Her lips twitch slightly, almost imperceptibly, and that's all I needed.

  Oh, thank the gods.

  This really is just a test.

  She's lying. This whole Boss Mode experience, the order to kill me—it's all a show. A farce. She doesn't really want me dead, but damn—she's one hell of an actress.

  Russell squares his shoulders, and it's clear he bought the play she's putting on. I caught the lie on her face, but he didn’t.

  He thinks this is real.

  The candidate for dojo master studies me, his eyes narrowing as he barely breathes. He's clearly going through a horrible internal ordeal, battling the commands of his Boss—the woman he adores—with his own honor and values.