Age of Dragons
Page 32
The three of them sat close by—and as much as I’d like to think it’s my magnetic personality, they all lean subtly toward me. They must feel the tension. With the news of Zurie’s imminent attack and Russell’s growing suspicions, they must be as concerned as I am. I suspect they're trying to be a little extra protective, whether it's conscious or not.
It's endearing, if misguided.
If Zurie comes for me, she will have hell to pay. She's put me through too much, threatened the people I love and the dragon within me to the point where she cannot be redeemed.
As the silence wears on, Russell groans and rubs his eyes. “So, the Ghost is coming for us.”
“Yes,” I confirm with a small nod.
“She will bring an army, probably a combination of Spectres and Knights, on a suicide mission to destroy us.”
“That's right,” Jace adds.
“I doubt the others realize the depths of this danger,” I admit, tapping my finger absently on the table’s polished surface. “The Knights, anyway. The Spectres probably know, but it’s death to defy the Ghost. If she asks something of them, they must obey regardless of the cost to themselves.”
Russell's eyes narrow in suspicion, but I don't have time to care.
We need a plan.
“The Knights, however,” I say continuing as if I don't notice Russell’s growing distrust of me. “They probably don't realize what they're doing or what they're getting themselves into. Zurie has a way of making you think you'll have a way out, even if you don't.”
“Maybe they do,” Harper says ominously, leaning her elbows on the table as she looks intently at me.
“Not possible,” Russell says, shaking his head as he pauses behind the Fairfax Boss. “The tunnels are being thoroughly searched as we speak. From the forest to the perimeter, we have the entire dojo on lockdown. We're combing every inch and leaving nothing unturned. There's no possible way anyone can enter without us at least seeing them coming.” He squares his shoulders as he resumes pacing, his back arched and strong, and his voice confident.
Russell’s firm and in command, and I have to admit, impressive. He will do well in Jace’s stead.
As Russell once more walks the length of the table, he pauses again behind Harper's chair, looking down at her with a grim frown on his face. “You're leaving.”
“What?” she asks, craning her neck to look at him.
“Please go pack,” he says, his voice firm.
“I'm not missing out on this,” she says matter-of-factly.
Russell sets his hands on the back of her chair, leaning down until their noses almost touch. “This battle will be intense, and I won't let the Boss be harmed—or worse, killed.”
And there it is—the protective fire in his eyes. The smoldering desire he won't let himself feel.
This isn't just about protecting the Boss of the Fairfax family.
This is about protecting the woman he loves.
Harper's cheeks burn with fury, and she sits upright in her chair, returning her gaze to the table as if she won't even consider what he's saying. “Absolutely not. I won't let my people fight assassins by themselves, or—”
“That's an order,” Russell snaps, his voice unyielding.
Despite the tension crackling between the two of them, Jace laughs.
Both of them glare at him.
Unfazed, Jace crosses his arms and nods at Russell. “You picked up on the perks of being the dojo master very quickly.”
Harper grits her teeth in anger, glaring at Jace with all the fire of a star. “You're not helping.”
“Harper,” Russell says softly. “Go.” There's a request in his voice, an almost pleading, but he doesn't actually ask.
It’s still very much a command.
Outnumbered and at risk for defying an order from the dojo master in the one place where he ranks above her, Harper growls in anger and stands. She walks with the grace of a queen, her chin gently lifted as she leaves.
As she opens the door, however, she pauses ever so briefly to look back at me. Her gaze is full of mischief and fire, and the expression feels incredibly familiar. I'm sure I've given that look to Irena more times than she can count, and it strikes me how similar Harper and my sister are to each other.
Harper is silently asking for my help. She wants me to keep her updated, despite the fact that she's being cut out of the entire plan.
I nod almost imperceptibly, but she catches it.
Apparently satisfied that I’m on board, she storms off into the hallway and slams the door behind her.
With the door closed and his woman safe, Russell lets out a slow breath, like he can finally think and relax now. He leans his fists against the table, shaking his head. “The chatter isn't good,” he confesses. “And it has come to my attention that Harper is as much a target as Rory.”
I frown, wondering if he's going to kick me out next.
“Harper is safer in the capital,” Russell continues. “Not in the heart of a battle. And besides, if we hold the two women in different locations, there are two targets. They'll have to choose.”
“And let me guess,” I say, grinning, “I'm the better bait.”
He shrugs, smirking a little. “Your words, not mine.”
“You're not using her as bait,” Jace says, his voice dripping with danger and warning.
Russell watches Jace for a moment, studying the former dojo master as he considers what he's about to say very carefully. “This is not your dojo anymore, Jace.”
Beside me, Jace bristles with ire, and he conveys his threat without having to say a word.
If Russell tries to dangle me to lure in the assassins, he will have to go through Jace.
I set a hand on Jace's shoulder.
“Hear him out,” I say quietly.
Gently.
His touch ignites a flurry of light and joy that chases through my fingers and up my arm, and I suspect he felt the same thing as I touched him. He instantly relaxes, leaning back against the chair as he looks at me, the anger slowly dissolving from his face the longer I hold his arm.
He returns his attention to Russell, his mouth set in a grim line as he waits for the rest of the plan.
“These are the facts,” Russell says firmly, tapping his finger on the table for emphasis. “The Spectres are moving, but we don't know how many of them there are or where they're going. Their chatter is almost impossible to detect, and the only information we have about them comes from the elder Miss Quinn here,” he says with a nod toward my sister.
From the way his voice tightens as he addresses Irena, I suspect he's highly wary of how exactly she gathered the data and whether or not it's true. The fact that we all rally behind her is the only reason he’s even considering what she has to say.
“The Knights, however, are moving,” he continues. “We know that for certain.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Tucker lean forward just a little, listening more intently at the mention of the organization that wants him dead.
Russell gestures out the window, clearly frustrated. “They're mobilizing, but it seems for all the world like they're moving away from us, which doesn't make any sense.”
“It's a distraction,” Irena says dryly.
“I thought so too,” Russell admits.
“That's not all,” Drew admits, leaning his elbows on the table as he joins the conversation. “My network is finding hints of a third party that's somehow involved in all of this. We have no idea yet who it is, but we're going to find them,” he adds with a confident nod as he looks briefly toward me. “They're leasing or outright buying weapons—dragon killers, and a few rumors of long-range missiles.”
“Missiles?” I ask dryly, my eyebrows shooting up my forehead. “Are you kidding?”
“Wish I was,” Drew admits with a disappointed shrug.
“But who could the third party be?” Tucker asks, his brows knitting in confusion. “Not even the Knights have weapons that big,
and no one in the world will work with them. Legally speaking, it’s a war crime to side with the Knights in any matter. Whoever has these weapons, whoever's giving these to the Spectres and Knights, they either don't know these organizations are involved, or they don't care.”
“That's a problem,” Levi admits, frowning deeply as he rubs his jaw.
Russell, surprisingly, says nothing. He simply watches Tucker as if he’s noticing something for the first time. There’s a suspicious glint in his eye, and his knuckles crack slightly as he leans them against the edges of the table.
Damn, Russell is way too smart.
“This is turning into an all-out assault,” I say, in part to distract Russell, but mostly because it's genuinely concerning me.
I don't like this at all. It's a full-on war.
I bite my lip, my mind buzzing with ideas until one becomes clearer than the rest. I look at Russell, my shoulders relaxing a little as I realize what we need to do. “We should lead them away.”
“Absolutely not,” Russell says quickly, shaking his head as he crosses his arms. “I won't allow it. It makes us look weak to have you running off.”
“No, it doesn't,” I argue, gesturing vaguely toward the door. “It throws Zurie off her game at the last minute. It changes the plan, which means she's less prepared. It means we all have a better chance of survival.”
“No, it means there are better chances she will ambush you,” Russell snaps, glaring at me. “This is not negotiable, Miss Quinn. The dojo’s duty is to guard Jace, our former master, and his mate, you. I will not allow you to leave. None of you,” he adds, his gaze sweeping over us all.
For a moment, the tense silence settles on the room as everyone leans forward, stiffening in defiance at the thought of being trapped within these walls.
Jace, however, laughs.
“And what is so damn funny?” I ask, looking at him like he's gone crazy.
“I get it now,” he says, still chuckling. “This is how you felt, Rory. Every time I threatened to lock you away.”
Oh.
Well, yeah.
I can't help the smile that cracks across my face as I roll my eyes. “Yeah, Jace, this is exactly what it feels like.”
“If you try to leave, you will be found,” Russell interrupts, his voice firm and tense. “We have troops everywhere in the tunnels, in the air, in the forests, on the walls. The entire perimeter is on absolute lockdown.” He hesitates, rubbing his temples. “I'm not threatening you. I'm just letting you know that this is the safest place for you to be. No one will be able to sneak up on us, and if anyone is stupid enough to try to attack, we will obliterate them.”
Around me, everyone begins to relax into their chairs. Not out of relief, however. Mostly out of resignation.
He's on our side, and he's doing what he thinks is best—not just for us, but for all of Fairfax.
But Irena and I, we share the same mission to kill Zurie. Wherever she goes, we’ll be. It's time for us to end this. To end this threat against not only us, but everyone we're learning to care for and love.
Our former mentor raised us to be assassins. The best killers in the world.
Irena and I are going to make her regret that.
As my mind buzzes with ideas on how take her down once and for all, I consider something I hadn't before—a way the Spectres might try to screw us over. To destroy us from within.
I'm not sure how to word this, but I know I need to speak up—no matter the cost to me.
“What's the policy on prisoners of war?” I ask, rubbing my jaw as I intently watch Russell's face.
His jaw tenses, and he narrows his eyes in confusion for a moment. “We accept them if they surrender. They go into the cells, separated and isolated, but well-cared-for.”
“And then what?” I ask, lifting my chin in defiance, urging him to tell me the truth.
“They’re interrogated,” he admits, setting his hand on his hips as he slowly realizes where I'm taking this.
“And if they comply?” I press.
“If they play along, they survive,” Russell says simply. “And if they don't…” He trails off, his gaze darting toward Jace, and I know exactly what he's thinking of.
All of the Knights who've come for me over the last few months—all the ones who haven't complied, who threatened me and the dojo and everything Jace loves.
They found themselves in early graves.
Frankly, it takes a certain obstinate stupidity to threaten someone who has you locked up and tied to a chair.
I frown, crossing my arms as I lean back in my seat, knowing that no Spectre would ever make a threat in a situation like that. They would play along. They would lie, and they would be especially convincing. They would say whatever they needed to say to appear compliant. They might even slowly make friends with the guards, let the dragons think they’re just an innocent person in a bad situation.
And then, when their enemy’s guard was down, they would strike.
I bite my lip, not sure what to share with Russell at this point. Jace isn't the master of the dojo anymore. If Russell doesn't accept me as a Spectre, Jace may not be able to protect me here. Russell said it himself—this entire place is on lockdown, even more so than before. If they try to lock me away, if they consider my Spectre past as dangerous and worthy of imprisonment, there may not be any way out.
Doesn't mean I wouldn't try, but it does mean we have a lower chance of success.
And if there's one thing I learned from Zurie, it's to measure risk carefully before any action is taken.
However, I don't want these people hurt just because they don't understand the full fury of what's coming for them.
Out of the corner of my eye, I look at Irena. Her bright green eyes dart toward me, and they narrow a bit as she realizes what I'm about to do. She frowns, subtly shaking her head, but I just nod.
We have to.
We have to warn them of what's coming.
“Promise me something,” I say, studying Russell’s face as I speak. “If Zurie surrenders—if any of the Spectres surrender—kill them immediately.”
The room goes still as everyone holds their breath and looks at me in shock.
I know it sounds brutal.
I know it sounds cruel, even, but this is the way it has to be.
“That's against our code,” Russell says, shaking his head in baffled disbelief.
I open my mouth to speak, but the words die in my throat as my training kicks in and warns me to shut the hell up. There are about forty Spectre rules warning me not to share what I'm about to share.
However, I want to protect the Fairfax dragons who have done so much for us. More importantly, I want to protect my men.
“Honor is a weapon Spectres use against their opponents,” I say simply. “It's a weapon that Zurie trains her Spectres to look for and manipulate at any chance because honor allows you to pit someone's values against them if you're clever enough.”
I hesitate, resisting the impulse to look at Irena as she stiffens beside me.
“Look, Russell,” I say leaning forward. “If Zurie’s attack fails, she will surrender to buy time. Once she's inside, she will escape, and once she escapes, she will try to implode the building from within even if it kills her. This is how the Spectres think. They're trained to do this, to use surrender as a form of delaying the inevitable. To them, it’s just a way to manipulate their opponent into an early death.”
In the silence that follows, Russell's eyes narrow. He slowly arches his back, standing taller and watching me as if he's seeing a side of me for the first time—and he doesn't like it.
“You know a remarkable amount about Spectres, Miss Quinn.”
“I do, don't I?” I say evenly, unfazed and holding his gaze.
Russell is tense, and it would appear that something has clicked for him. In that moment, his suspicions have been confirmed. But as he looks around the room, his gaze sweeping across everyone else here, his expression
slowly corrodes into one of calm understanding.
Everyone here already knows what he just pieced together.
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he slowly shakes his head. “Being the dojo master is going to take some getting used to.”
“There’s no one more capable,” Jace says confidently.
“Thank you,” Russell says, his gaze darting toward his former mentor. “Sir.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask, and he knows damn well what I mean.
He watches me again, studying me, but the dangerous intent from before is gone. “I protect those who seek haven in these walls,” he says simply. “And that includes you.”
I subtly let out a slow breath as I relax, grateful I don't have to fight the master of the dojo. Grateful we're still allies.
I just hope that doesn't change.
“And for the Spectres who surrender?” I ask, pressing the matter.
“I'll think about it, Rory,” he says simply, shaking his head, and I know I've asked him to do the impossible. With that request, I’ve pitted two of his values against each other—his vow to protect those who come here seeking haven with his vow to protect those who are already here.
“We're done for now,” Russell says simply, gesturing toward the door. “There's a long fight ahead of us, and we have no idea of how quickly or slowly it will come. All we can do is prepare.”
The rest of us take the hint, standing, but he nods toward me and Jace. “You two wait.”
Irena, Drew, Tucker, and Levi hesitate, not exactly eager to leave us alone with the man who just figured out what I am. I look at Jace with wary concern.
“It's fine, guys,” Jace says, nodding to them. “Go.”
Instead of listening to him, the others turn toward me, and I subtly nod in agreement.
If Jace trusts Russell, so do I.
We wait in silence as the others leave, and I know they won't be far. They'll probably linger in the hallway, finding excuses not to leave, all of them ready to dash in at a moment's notice should the need arise.
I desperately hope the need does not, in fact, arise.
When the door shuts behind Irena and only the three of us are left in the room, Russell looks at me with his arms crossed and his chin raised in astonishment. “You’re a Spectre,” he says calmly, a hint of accusation in his tone.