Dragon Born 1: The Shifter's Hoard

by Dante King

  The woman’s voice faded out, then the message began to repeat. Groups of shifters and mages filed out of the casino floor, moving with purpose. Clearly, everyone but us already knew what to do—as if they’d rehearsed this phase of the Council while we were away.

  “Come on,” Soojin purred, nodding toward the front gate. “There’ll be a portal for us to step through. Considering your mother is one of the main reasons this Council has been called, they’ll be expecting you.”

  “Portals?” I asked, eyeing up the fleeing mages with a narrow gaze. “No one said anything about teleporting somewhere else. The Celesta is supposed to be neutral ground, but how do we know these portals aren’t some kind of trap?”

  Soojin looked vaguely offended by the notion. “No one would dare bring violence into the heart of the Council,” she said, her cleavage heaving in her tight red dress. “Carli, dear, you’re going to need to sober up.”

  The Raiju shifter gained her full height with a pout. “Aww, but I was having so much fun,” she whimpered. “I’m way less anxious with a few drinks in me!”

  “You’re going to need your wits about you,” Soojin said with a faint smile.

  Confusion filled me. I wasn’t aware Carli had a choice as to whether to be drunk or not.

  Carli let out a huff. “Fine,” she said, rolling her shoulders. The shifter tilted her head back, eyes closed in concentration—then a faint current of electrical energy coursed across her skin. When it faded, the unsteadiness in her stance was gone as well.

  “That is a neat trick,” I said, impressed. “You’ll have to show me that sometime.”

  “It’s not as cool as you think,” Carli said, putting the heel of her hand against a temple. “Ugh, it doesn’t do anything about a hangover…”

  “Grab a little hair of the dog on the way out,” Soojin suggested. “Come along. We really are going to be missed if we don’t enter the Council chambers soon.”

  I felt in no hurry to listen to this awkward apology from the Crescent Clan, but Soojin was right. A large portion of this Council was about us, strictly speaking, so it would have felt strange for us not to be in attendance.

  After getting Carli a small flute of champagne to calm down her nerves, we filed out with the rest of the partygoers toward the portals at the front of the convention complex. As I stepped outside, the warm night air flowing over my suit, a mage I’d seen watching the gambling tables before sidled up beside me.

  “Derek, right?” the man asked.

  I was in no mood to banter with more rude mages. “That’s right.”

  The man grinned, like a schoolboy with a secret. “The shifter who came over to play with the mages. Looks like you belonged on our side of the party after all, huh?”

  Before I could reply, the man stepped forward and disappeared into a portal. I stood there, stunned, working through the implications of his statement for a few moments. Then I swore.

  “Derek, what was that about?” Carli asked, a tinge of worry in her voice.

  They know, I realized. As hard as I’d tried to conceal my powers from the crowd at the Celesta, the mages must have figured out how they’d been bested. Hell, their leaders had probably grabbed Mortimer and interrogated him the moment the security force tossed him out of the casino. He certainly seemed to understand he’d been rooked, at the very least.

  “My secret might be out,” I told my girls gruffly as I regarded the portal. “Keep an eye out for any tricks on the other side of this portal.”

  Both of them nodded and stepped through with me. As the ozone-scented wall of magic passed over my head, I remembered the strange man in the bathroom who didn’t have a reflection.

  He’d said tonight was going to be a big night. And the strange, sinking feeling in my chest as we were whisked away from the Celesta told me he’d been absolutely right.

  Chapter 19

  I stepped out of the portal and was instantly flung back in time three thousand years.

  Carli, Soojin, and I stood in an arena with an open ceiling, held aloft with thick Roman columns like something from a gladiatorial coliseum. Stands encircled three sides of the arena, with a high podium in the center for speakers to address the crowd.

  The eager gamblers of the Celesta were already being guided to their seats—shifters to the left, mages to the right. None of them looked up at the night sky, visible through the massive hole in the roof.

  I did.

  The stars that twinkled above our heads were not of this Earth. Wherever this Council took place—a pocket dimension, a supernatural realm—we weren’t in Kansas anymore.

  A hush fell over my girls as we stepped into the center of the circular arena. The longer I looked at it, the more I realized just how small it was. Less a gladiatorial ring than the kind of place the bad guys in a Saturday morning serial might gather to make their evil plans against the hero.

  “Where on Earth are we?” Carli whispered. The shifter put a hand on my back, kneading the muscles between my shoulder blades with obvious tension.

  “We’re not on Earth,” Soojin corrected in a small voice. No one seemed inclined to raise their voice in this space, as if some supernatural force compelled visitors to the Council of Wand & Claw to remain silent. “We’re within a very special place, where mages and shifters come together to meet and make the decisions that allow the supernatural realm to continue functioning as it has.”

  “How many of these have you been to?” I asked Soojin, curious.

  “Just one,” the dark-haired beauty purred, a wicked look entering her eyes. “I’m not that old, Derek.”

  I expected us to be led to our seats, the same as everyone else who’d filed into the Council chambers. Instead, a servant appeared at my arm and led me and my entourage away from the group.

  “You are Derek Sinclair, yes?” the servant asked, giving me a quick up and down glance. This man’s robes were even fancier than the ones of the servants in the Celesta—he looked almost like the attendant of some sultan. “Remain here, please. Once the Crescent Clan representative makes their speech, you and your guests will be escorted to their seats.”

  Made sense. They needed me here for the show to go on.

  “Works for me,” I said, glancing back at my girls. “You both alright?”

  They were.

  The assembled mages and shifters weren’t given time to get comfortable. Almost as soon as they’d taken their seats, a bolt of lightning lit up the unearthly sky above the chamber, and a man appeared at the podium. Instantly, I knew this had to be the person in charge.

  Soojin confirmed it. “That’s Tomas Karkosa,” the apothecary whispered, nodding toward the podium. “The Majordomo of the Council—a kind of mayor, if the supernatural realm were a city or a town.”

  “He’s a mage,” I said, the words low in my throat. The man practically stank of magic.

  “Of course he is,” Carli quipped. “You think they’d let a shifter run something that required this much organization?”

  Tomas resembled nothing so much as the product of an illicit affair between Julius Caesar and Santa Claus. A thick mane of salt-and-pepper hair wreathed his regal, angular face like a crown, with a bushy beard all the way down to his collarbone. His robes had a simple cut to them, but were of the finest materials—I could tell his wardrobe cost more than most people in the chamber made in a year. Even among high rollers, Tomas stood out as an anomaly.

  He produced a bell from his robes and rang it. The chime sounded supernaturally deep and loud, plunging the chamber into profound silence.

  “My fellow supernatural beings,” the man said, folding his hands at the podium. He had a light, breezy manner of speaking that somehow managed to be both stern and caring at the same time. He reminded me of a teacher in love with their subject, or a particularly good preacher without all the baggage. “Welcome to the 24th Council of Wand & Claw to occur in the modern era. It’s not every day we convene all in one place, and I appreciate you all making
the long journey to assist in keeping the peace.”

  Bullshit, I thought. No one here made a sacrifice. They’re treating this shit like a party.

  I scanned the faces in the stalls as the Majordomo launched into a speech full of pleasantries. I was looking for the strange man I’d seen in the bathroom back at the Celesta—the one who’d said tonight was going to be such a big night. He was nowhere to be found. If he’d stepped through a portal in order to attend, he hid himself well.

  Finally, the Majordomo turned to more practical matters. “Before we begin with our more technical business,” he said, nodding toward me and mine sitting just out of reach, “we have a matter of honor to discuss. Derek Sinclair—please rise.”

  With some trepidation, I did. Every eye in that chamber turned as one to stare at me, and I was intensely aware of their searching looks. Many of the people there had seen me get a mage expelled for ‘cheating’ at cards, and the reactions from the crowd looked evenly split between mages and shifters. Shifters looked pleased, like I’d thumbed my nose at the hoity-toity mages—while the magical set looked like the sooner this part of the meeting was over, the better.

  “Your mother Raya Sinclair has served this Council honorably,” Tomas said, his voice taking on a slight rumble. “She was a mage for whom honor and duty were not merely abstract concepts, but qualities of the greatest importance. She lived by those models, the way a medieval knight lived by lance, sword, and chivalry. All of us assembled here—mages and shifters alike—owe her a great debt.”

  This was one hell of a lot of buttering up. I wondered when the other shoe would drop.

  The Majordomo’s face darkened. “Recently, a most dishonorable attack commenced against your dear mother,” Tomas explained, although there wasn’t a soul in that chamber who didn’t know the details intimately by this point. “Members of the Crescent Clan, a group of wolf shifters with an otherwise stellar record of peacekeeping, broke into the apartment of Raya Sinclair in an evident attack on her life.”

  Murmurs of feigned surprise and horror rippled through the mage section of the Council chamber. The noises sounded far less fake coming from the shifters, who seemed honestly outraged that one of their own had done this.

  “I am to understand that the Crescent Clan did not sanction this attack,” Tomas said, eyeing the shifter side of the assemblage with a hard look. “In order to clear the air, and restore balance between our people’s, the son of Raya Sinclair is here to accept an apology on his mother’s behalf. I am told Raya is still too ill to attend this meeting herself, but that she has agreed for Derek to accept this judgement on her behalf.” With that, Tomas’s gaze turned to me. “Is that correct, Mr. Sinclair?”

  Something about being called Mr. made all of this feel more immediate and important. I had to clear my throat before I spoke—when I did, some enchantment amplified my voice so it could clearly be heard throughout the chambers.

  “Yes,” I said. “Raya—my mom—accepts this.”

  Tomas nodded gravely. “Bring them out.”

  Them? I thought, but didn’t have time to ask. A door near the back of the chamber opened, and two beefy-looking shifters entered. Both were dressed in the uniforms of the Crescent Clan, in sleeveless vests cut to show off their wolfish muscles. If you didn’t know about shifters, you’d have assumed they were members of some motorcycle gang.

  As the pair of shifters drew closer, I realized that one was more or less dragging the other. The larger of the two, clearly the man in charge, had the second shifter’s vest clenched in his fist and was guiding him to the center of the council chamber before the podium. The smaller shifter refused to meet my eye, or the eyes of anyone else in the chamber.

  The taller shifter gave Tomas a brisk nod, evidently a signal to yield the floor to this newcomer.

  “Derek Sinclair,” the taller shifter said, his back teeth showing as his lips peeled back. “I am the Alpha of the Crescent Clan. On behalf of my people, our blood and our bones, I express my apologies for the attack on Raya. You have my word that it was not sanctioned by myself or anyone in a position of authority within the clan. These ruffians—” here he gripped the vest of the smaller shifter, who would have been huge standing next to literally anyone else, “—acted entirely on their own, without sanction.”

  That smaller shifter looked like he’d rather be anywhere else than here. He still couldn’t meet my eye.

  The corners of my vision flashed red when I looked at him. Despite the intense atmosphere of the Council chamber and all the eyes on me, I found it hard to concentrate on the meeting. I kept playing back a few choice moments from Mom’s condo in my mind’s eye: those monsters ripping apart the furniture, busting through the bedroom door with murder on their mind. A shifter wrapping his claws around Soojin’s neck, doing its level best to choke the life out of her right before my eyes…

  Scales formed on my hands and arms. Behind me, Soojin nudged my lower back with her elbow, panic in her eyes.

  “Derek,” she whispered. “You need to accept this shifter’s apology. Otherwise, this is going to boil over into open violence, right in the middle of the Council…”

  Her words brought me back to myself.

  I blinked rapidly, seeing what I’d been blind to before. The mages all along the rows whetted invisible knives, gleefully waiting for me to turn down the Crescent Clan’s apology so they could have reason to hold shifters in contempt. Not for the first time, I realized what a powerful and important mage my mom had been back in the day.

  Something inside of me relaxed. “On behalf of Raya Sinclair, my mother, I accept your apology.” The words took on something of a ritual quality as they left my lips. “I understand that the Crescent Clan did not mean her harm.”

  Shifters relaxed all around the chambers. Mages looked disappointed—doubly so for those who’d seen me at the blackjack table, their anger thwarted by someone who’d made them look stupid while they gambled.

  The Crescent Clan leader turned to Tomas, who stood impassively over the whole proceedings like some sort of primal judge. “This shifter in my keeping is the last member of the raiding party that attacked Raya Sinclair’s home. The rest were all slaughtered by Derek and his mates.”

  More than a few knowing laughs met that proclamation. I wasn’t sure if you could properly call either woman my ‘mate’—I’d had sex with Carli a couple of times and been the lucky recipient of Soojin’s mouth after the same fight we were up here litigating—but both women reacted with grace and aplomb. Suddenly, both Carli and Soojin were pressed against me, supporting me with fierce expressions as they stared down the shifter leader.

  Neither of them would deny that they were my mate. In that moment, before the eyes of everyone important enough in the supernatural realm to attend the Council, I felt them accept the mantle for real.

  Both women shot little smiles my way, as if they were now in on the joke. Soojin squeezed my hand just behind my back, giving me a sympathetic look.

  “You’re doing well,” Soojin whispered, low enough that only me and Carli could hear. “Now, try not to freak out at this next part.”

  Freak out? Why on Earth would I freak out…?

  “Very well,” Tomas said, casting a baleful look out toward the crowd.

  Only now did I notice the expectant looks on the faces of the mages and shifters in attendance. These people waited for something; yearned for it with the anticipation of a crowd at a rock concert waiting for the headliner to take the stage.

  What had gotten into these people?

  The Crescent Clan’s leader nodded. Then, as quickly as a lightning bolt, claws exploded from the fingers of the hand clutching the smaller shifter’s chest.

  The final member of the team that had attacked my mother cried out, but it was already too late for that. Too late for mercy—too late to stop what was coming. Either way, the Crescent Clan’s leader had no mercy, and even if he did, the reputation of his family lay on how he handled the next few
seconds.

  The shifter didn’t hesitate. He brought his fist to the criminal’s throat, slashing open his jugular in one quick motion.

  The smaller shifter let out a shocked little gasp. A spray of bright arterial blood stained the council chamber’s floor.

  The criminal reached up to the wide slash in his neck, pinching at it as if he could somehow hold the wound closed. A moment later, his fingers fell away, and he crumpled forward onto his knees.

  The leader of the Crescent Clan gave him a shove, and he toppled onto his face. A dark pool of heart’s blood spread beneath the criminal’s neck, staining the floor as it slowly pooled around the dead man. The audience let out a collective gasp, most of them looking thrilled to have seen such quick, brutal violence.

  Neither Tomas nor the Crescent Clan’s leader looked happy to have delivered the sentence.

  “Justice has been done,” Tomas said, folding his hands on the podium. “The attempt on Raya’s life has been avenged. You will report to your mother that we have done this thing—that blood has been repaid with blood. Do you understand me, Derek?”

  With a struggle, I tore my eyes away from the corpse of the shifter.

  “Yes,” I said, not needing to quell any emotion within me. I’d been well and truly shaken by this development.

  Tomas nodded, and some of the placid composure he’d shown during his introductory speech returned to his face. “Very good—we trust you’ll make a full and fair report.” The Majordomo of the Council of Wand & Claw lifted a hand to indicate the crowd, like a showman moving from one attraction to another. “Now that this matter has been settled, we can turn our attention to the recent events involving—”