by Jackie May
Nick smiles and tugs me into motion again. “They are rather magnificent. Anyway, we’re called the guardians of light because we were born from the most pure form of light magic to be protectors over this world. There are a few dark mythics, too, like hellhounds, gorgon, and kraken. Not many, though; they’re just as rare as we are.”
My mouth falls open. Kraken? Hellhounds? There’s a whole lot more to the underworld than I ever realized.
We reach the trees, and as we pass through the dense grove, Nick grips me a little tighter. After about thirty feet, we hit a narrow road that has been plowed of snow. At the end of the lane, there’s a small farmhouse with the lights on. As we approach, two people come outside. A woman who looks to be in her twenties or thirties throws herself into Nick’s arms and starts sobbing. “Oh, Nikolai!”
Nick hugs the woman and whispers soft words of comfort. It’s both touching and heartbreaking. I step away, wanting to give them some privacy in what is obviously a time of grief for both of them. Again, I wonder what has happened and how it involves Nick.
“Hello,” a gentle voice murmurs.
I jump, startled to see a man standing right beside me. Where in the world did he come from, and how did he get so close to me without me hearing him?
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
This man is powerful. A very strong sidhe. I’m curious how Nick knows them and what we’re doing here.
His face is solemn and full of grief, but the small smile he manages is genuine. “You arrived with Nikolai, yes?”
I press my hand against my frantically beating heart and nod. “Yes. I came with Nick. I’m his…partner.”
The man’s eyebrows skyrocket. “Nikolai has taken a mate?”
“Oh! No!” The man startles with my outburst. I take a breath and lower my voice. “I’m sorry. No. I meant his work partner. Sort of. I help him with his cases. Sometimes.”
“I see.” The man’s face falls with so much disappointment that it makes me blush.
“Sorry.”
The man chuckles. “It is all right.” He glances toward Nick with warm affection. He sighs. “I know it was wishful thinking on my part. Anya and I have been waiting for him to settle down for centuries. We’re starting to lose faith.”
I smile at that. “It may not happen anytime soon, but I’m sure someone will come along one day and tame the wild dragon. I only hope that I’m there to see it.”
The stranger chuckles again. “So do I, my dear. So do I.”
He looks at me and extends his hand. He is handsome in a distinguished way. “I am Surikov Petrovich, and that is my mate, Anya.” He nods toward the woman still sobbing into Nick’s chest.
“Nora Jacobs. It’s nice to meet you.”
When I take his hand, he leans forward and kisses both my cheeks. I only get a brief flash of his thoughts, but it’s enough to bring tears to my eyes. He’s trying to be strong in front of me, but he’s torn up inside with grief over the murder of his son. In his mind I see a beautiful blue dragon, much smaller than Nick’s beast, lying on the shore of the lake, the snow around him bathed in red. I’m confused as to how the dragon could be the fey’s son, but I don’t ask about it.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I murmur.
The man swallows and his eyes gloss over. He nods as if he can’t find his voice to respond.
My heart bleeds for this man and his mate. Her devastation makes so much sense now. I know what it’s like to lose a family member in such a violent way as murder. I can only imagine it’s even worse to lose a child than it was to lose my mother. “What was you son’s name?” I ask gently.
“Christov,” a shaky voice says. “His name was Christov.”
Nick and Anya have come over. Nick still has his arms around her, and his eyes look red as if he’s holding back tears. Anya gives me a pain-filled watery smile. “Nikolai tells me you’re a very special woman who can help him catch whoever did this.”
My eyes flick to Nick, and I gulp. “I hope so,” I tell Anya. “I promise you that Nick and I will do everything we can to figure out who did this and why. It won’t bring your son back, but hopefully it will bring you closure and a little peace.”
Her eyes brim over again, and she startles me by pulling me into a fierce hug. “Thank you, dear.”
I’m not one to hug strangers, but I manage not to flinch away. I even wrap my arms around her and pat her back a couple of times. She lets me go with a sniffle and then seeks comfort in her mate’s arms.
I don’t want to be the one to bring up the tragedy, but one look at Nick tells me I’m going to have to take charge tonight. I clear my throat and try not to wince as I say, “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but is your son still on the shore? I’ll need to see him and the crime scene for my gifts to be of any use.”
Anya starts sobbing again, and a couple of tears leak from the corners of Surikov’s eyes. He nods. “Follow me.”
None of us speak as Surikov leads us behind his home through the woods to the shore of the lake. Nick has to help me again. Apparently I’m the only one who can’t see in the dark.
The sky brightens just a little as we clear the woods and reach the lakeshore. What little moonlight there is reflects off the snow and ice that lines the shore. I can’t see the end of the ice. We’ve had a cold winter so far, and nearly half the lake is already frozen over.
Biting wind cuts at my face, and I bury myself as deep in my scarf and coat as I can. We walk maybe fifty feet down the shore where the snow has been trampled and the ice has been broken to pieces. Even in the near dark, I can see the stains that paint the ice and snow. I can smell the hint of copper on the wind. There must have been a lot of blood spilled here.
Among the ice, a dark lump lies half on the shore, half in the water. Christov is a much smaller dragon than Nick. His body could fit on the back of a flatbed truck. Instead of wings and clawed feet, he has finned arms and legs as if he was meant to swim, not fly. He looks more like a sea serpent than a dragon. Actually, it’s possible his kind are where those legends come from. Perhaps the Loch Ness monster is really a water dragon. Even Lake Erie is said to have its own sea monster. All those sightings must have just been Christov.
When I get closer, I see that his skin is made of scales, but they seem different than Nick’s. Less body armor and more fish scales. The poor creature doesn’t seem nearly as indestructible as Nick, but there’s still something about him. Even in death, he is awe inspiring. It makes me heartsick to think of this beautiful, majestic creature being vulnerable to a vicious attack. I would have loved to see him glide through the water healthy, strong, and full of life. How could someone kill such a magnificent creature?
Nick helps me make my way to Christov’s side, and I hear the smallest intake of breath when we see that the water dragon’s neck has been sliced open. “I can do this if you’d like to take a break,” I gently say to Nick.
He shakes his head, his eyes locked on the dragon. “I need to help. He was my family.”
I look at Nick in surprise. “Mythics cannot bear children because we are not born from parents,” he explains. “We are brought into existence through magic itself. No one really knows why or how, but we all feel it when one of our kind is created. It’s rare. Maybe only one or two are born every century. I was the only dragon on the continent before Christov. When he came into existence, I found him and brought him to Surikov and Anya. I wasn’t fit to raise a child, but I’ve known the fey for centuries and trusted them to keep him safe. I’ve stayed in his life, mentoring him as best I could. He’s the reason I came to the Great Lakes area in the first place and why I’ve stayed so long. I wanted to be here to help Surikov and Anya. I wanted to help protect Christov.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I’ve failed.”
“Nick,” I croak, placing my hand on his arm. “You can’t think like that. This wasn’t your fault.”
He says nothing. I look closely and recognize t
he look of guilt in his eyes. I know it well. I’ve always in part blamed myself for my mother’s death. I should have done more when my premonition hit. I should have insisted we leave. I didn’t make her listen. I let her calm me down, and now she’s dead. Like Nick, I feel responsible even if maybe I shouldn’t. I know that nothing I say will make him stop blaming himself, so I don’t try. Instead, I give him purpose. “Maybe it’s too late to protect him, but you can still protect his family. We don’t know why he was targeted. We need to find this man before he goes after Surikov, or Anya, or even you.”
Nick’s eyes turn to vertical slits and he starts to radiate power, washing a sense of fear over me. I steady myself, knowing his rage is not directed at me. “Let’s catch this guy, Nick. Let’s make you and your friends safe and bring Christov some justice.”
Nick closes his eyes and tries to even out his breathing. I give his hand a squeeze, and he clasps onto it as if it were a lifeline. Maybe it is. I’ve never seen him upset before. I don’t like it. I want to kill the bastards who caused him so much pain. No one hurts my family, and that includes Nick. I may not feel the need to claim him romantically, but he’s my family. My partner. He’s mine. Again, I’m being territorial. I’m as possessive as a werewolf these days. I’m probably a jealous bitch, too, though I’ve never been put to the test. My men are amazingly loyal. I give Nick’s hand one more squeeze before I squat down beside Christov’s head. Nick crouches down beside me and runs his hand over the dragon’s head and down the back of his neck.
I eye the gashes in his throat with trepidation. Those wounds are not the only ones the dragon suffered. He looks like he’s been slashed to bits and even burned in places. Whatever happened, he put up a hell of a fight. “Be ready to catch me,” I murmur as I pull the glove off my right hand. “I have a feeling this is going to be intense.”
I take a deep breath and place my hand on the dragon over the slashes in his throat since it’s the place where I’m likely to get the strongest imprint.
It’s quiet and calm gliding through the deep waters of the lake. I’m shocked that Christov isn’t freezing, but he seems impervious to the cold. He’s happy. He loves the water. Feels free there. He loves to let his dragon out, and his dragon loves it, too. They are completely in sync with one another.
Christov sees the large hole in the ice that his family keeps open for diving purposes, and he races through the water toward it. He leaps from the water and up onto the ice just like a seal or a penguin would. He shifts and heads for the house, fully clothed and dry as a bone, whistling like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
He gets only a few feet before he’s hit in the neck with a tranquilizer. It’s not a normal one. He doesn’t just pass out like I did when I was hit. Instead, he falls to his knees and lets out a strangled cry. Poison, maybe? Whatever it is, he’s clearly in pain.
When he falls onto his hands and knees, three figures slink from the tree line toward him. I curse when I see that they’re wearing ski masks. I can tell that two of them are men and one is a woman, but other than that unhelpful tidbit, I won’t be able to pick them out of a lineup.
“Hurry!” the female shouts. “Secure him. He’s weaker in human form but still strong.”
Christov writhes in agony but pulls the dart from his neck and breathes through the pain. Sweat breaks out on his forehead, and he glares at the men now advancing on him with a large net in their hands that glows with magical power. The men stop. “Are you sure he can’t shift?” one asks.
“Impossible,” the woman states confidently. “That tranq was laced with liquid gold—a mythic’s only true weakness. I promise he can’t shift.”
The two men converge again. “Get away from me,” Christov grinds out through a clenched jaw. He pants several times, fighting the pain.
“Don’t think so,” one of the men says with a smug laugh. “You’re going to earn us two million dollars.”
The second man throws the glowing net over Christov, and the two of them jump into action, tackling Christov and trying to secure him. Christov thrashes wildly, throwing one of the men completely off him while the other jumps on his back. He’s got a zip tie in his hands. I’m not sure that would hold Christov, but he seems determined to try it. As they struggle, Christov releases a mighty roar and his form shimmers. Seconds later, Christov stands before them in his dragon form, the magical net lying in shreds below him. “Look out!” one of the men shouts to his friend, who nearly gets smashed under Christov’s fin.
Christov, though he’s meant for the water, still has a lot of power in his tail. He whips it around, catching one of the men and sending him sailing through the air toward the trees.
“Shoot him again!” the second man shouts to the woman as he dodges Christov’s snapping mouth. Christov may be a water dragon, but he’s got teeth a great white shark would be envious of. “Galina! Tranq him!”
Galina, the female, fumbles with a tranq gun and fires again. The dart hits its target, and Christov roars again. It doesn’t get past his scales, but he’s beyond pissed now. He rears his head back and shoots a stream of ice from his mouth the same way that Nick breathes fire. I had no idea he could do that. It’s mesmerizing to watch.
Galina isn’t surprised. She jumps to the side and shoots her gun again, hitting him with another dart. Again, it doesn’t penetrate his rough, scaly skin. The third man, who took a short flight toward the trees, is on his feet and comes running back, a large, broad sword in his hands, and charges Christov. Christov spits another blast of ice and hits the man square in the chest. Ice shards pierce his body all the way through, and he immediately falls to the ground. “Terlack!” Galina cries, rushing toward him. She drops to her knees and scoops him into her arms, but even I can see that the man is dead.
Christov’s dragon roars in pain again, and I look over to see that the other man has a sword like Terlack and is slicing and stabbing at Christov. Christov tries to get at the man, but he’s quick, and Christov is starting to slow down. He swipes at the man with his tail, but the man ducks and rolls out of the way. The move puts him right beneath Christov’s front fin, and he shoves his sword into the soft underbelly of the dragon. Christov cries out in agony as the man pushes his sword further into him, burying it hilt deep. Christov collapses, unconscious.
Galina charges toward the dragon and her accomplice. “Sabin, you idiot! The bounty said he’s wanted alive!”
“You said he couldn’t shift!” Sabin yells back. “He was going to kill us!”
“You could have just maimed him. You didn’t have to kill him. Now the only other dragon on this half of the world is Nick Gorgeous.”
“There’s no way we could capture Nick Gorgeous. He’s one of the most powerful creatures in the world.”
“My point exactly,” Galina snaps. “Now we’re out a two-million-dollar bounty.”
“He killed Terlack,” Sabin says stubbornly. “We would have been next.”
There’s a long pause, and I wonder why I’m still in the vision. I’ve been sucked into long visions before, but I’ve always been thrown out of them when the person I’m touching dies.
Finally Galina releases a long, dramatic sigh and in a much calmer voice says, “We’ll collect his blood.”
Sabin shakes his head. “But the bounty said—”
“I know what the bounty said! But dragon blood is better than nothing. Maybe we can still recoup some of our losses. If the client doesn’t want it, somebody will. We’ll take his scales, too. I think those are supposed to have healing properties. Could be worth a lot.”
Sabin runs back toward the trees and grabs a pack while Galina starts prying scales from Christov’s body with a long knife. I’m horrified by the process. She’s basically skinning him. My stomach churns, and for the first time in my life I wonder if I can throw up inside a vision. I know I want to.
Sabin returns with a large canteen. He dumps out the water and holds the canteen up. “This is all we have.”
Galina goes back to removing scales and Sabin moves toward Christov’s head. He pulls out a dagger and I brace myself as he slashes Christov’s neck open and starts collecting the blood. Sure enough, within seconds everything fades to black.
I’m not surprised when I finally get pushed out of the imprint. Christov hadn’t been dead before Sabin slashed his throat. Not all the way, at least. I was only kicked out the moment he died.
When I come back to reality, I vomit like I’ve never vomited before. I didn’t have a lot of food in my system because I was too worried about Oliver to really eat, but my body expels every molecule it can and then some. I’m not even sure if it’s the backlash from the imprint this time, or if it’s more that I’m just disturbed by what I saw. Probably a bit of both.
Once I’m done throwing up, Nick helps me to my feet. “You okay, partner?”
I start to nod, but then I swoon and end up in Nick’s arms. That was one of the longest, most intense visions I’ve ever had. Apparently my body is mad at me for it. “I don’t feel so good,” I admit just as the world around me fades to black.
When I open my eyes, I’m in my room at the den. My throat burns, my stomach is hollow, and my body aches. It takes me a solid minute to wake up and remember what happened. I get up with a groan and stretch out each of my stiff limbs. Then I head straight into my bathroom to brush my teeth and rinse my mouth out. Once I’ve scrubbed away the last of the vomit taste, I slowly make my way out of my room.
The smell of chili and cornbread has me heading for the dining room. I hear the voices before I enter. “—going to do?” Rook asks. “We can’t hide down here forever, and contrary to what Illren thinks, we can’t just kill every damn mercenary in town.”
“I wouldn’t kill them all,” Illren says. “I’m sure some would be smart enough to leave the city.”
I smile at the sound of amused snorts and chuckles.