Blood of Stars and Gods

by Melissa Petreshock

  “There are no studies on such a thing, Caitie. Ours is a kindred brotherhood closed to outsiders, not a society as others exist. Few non-Dracopraesi have access to the information you are asking me to share; the Goddess, Dante, and to a degree, Clan Corrigan due to their familial association with Dante and longtime position under the protection of dragons. However, you have the right to know everything the Goddess knows about us, Caitie.”

  “Oliver, you, Theo, even Falcon have mentioned stuff about divinity and me, relating me closely to the Goddess. Am I becoming something like her, something similar to a goddess?”

  I hold my breath, waiting for an answer, hoping for an answer. He leads me forward, pulling me toward the house. “It is not yet time to tell you everything, but I will teach you all that you wish to learn. You would benefit from knowing, and understanding, our ways, Caitie.” Pausing, he wears a pained expression. “Were I in Theo’s position, I would not have gone through with the rites of dominance without informing you as to what was happening, what would be done to you. I do believe that was toeing, if not crossing a line of propriety and intend to speak with my brother regarding the matter.”

  “Get her in the house,” commands Falcon, running toward us. “The faint scent of elves taints the air from the east.”

  “I smell nothing,” Oliver argues.

  Falcon turns on him, glaring darkly. “Your senses are too weak, not that of a warrior. I am quite sure your morals are sharp, though.” He casts the cutting remark over his shoulder as he turns away, running another ten feet from us and shifting into dragon form, staying on the ground, and looking dangerously prepared for any attacker crossing his path.

  Taking Oliver’s hand, I continue in a hurry to the house. “I agree with Liam. Falcon’s a fucking dick.”

  Oliver growls, low and threatening, and I expect he’s about to chastise me for my ‘unladylike’ language. “I cannot say I disagree with that assessment.”

  I laugh and squeeze his hand, loving how he can be when it’s just the two of us.

  Entering the house, Theo meets us the second we walk in, sword sheathed in a leather scabbard slung over his shoulders, knife similarly secured on his jean-clad thigh, and he looks nothing short of lethal. “Nice boots,” I say, glancing down at his feet. “Where is your shirt?” It’s impossible not to end up staring straight at his sculpted, and very bare, upper body.

  “This is a matter of tradition, Cait.” He steps closer, slipping his hand behind my neck, leaning down to meet his lips to mine. “It is a show of the Alpha’s power and strength, intimidating our enemies with our ferocity and fearlessness.” Theo’s kiss is rough, passionate, harder than I expect, leaving me breathless when he stands back. “I will return. Oliver and Corrin shall remain with you. Dante has gone to explain recent events to his mother.”

  “What about Jai?”

  He shakes his head. “No. He cannot remain with you tonight. We have reason to believe they have an Oracle of some sort. Jai’s skills may be quite necessary if this is true.” My dragon runs his fingers through my hair, eyes intense on mine. “Keep your knife at your side and your senses keenly aware. You are mine, and I am yours, Cait. I will be with you again soon.”

  I touch the Goddess mark on his chest and nod, unsure what to say, and Theo turns, disappearing out the door with Claaron, Liam, Clifford, and Jai following. Jai stops, waving to me, unsmilingly, before closing the door.

  “Holy hopping hell-bunnies, Oliver, do I even know Theo anymore? He’s in some sort of testosterone overdrive or something,” I exclaim, not happy with what I saw in his eyes and definitely uncomfortable with everything I felt from him. “Please tell me this is a short-term side-effect.”

  Oliver’s silence and the wariness in his eyes aren’t reassuring.

  *Theo*

  The cloak of night’s darkness falls upon us as we near Falcon, shifting to report. “I see no movement nearby yet. I am not mistaken in the scent, though, adrift from the east.” He remains focused on the eastern tree line, refusing to meet my eyes. “It is a pity Agtos did not call others from my house, insisting they join us. Rykah or Byron would add much-needed strength to our forces.”

  Growling deeply, I step up to him, baring teeth in his face. “It is not for you to decide what we need, Falcon. Do not forget your place. Refuse to kneel to me, so be it. The North Star made clear where you stand among her dragons.”

  He takes a step toward the woods, growling. “I stand with her.”

  Claaron snorts out a laugh. “Not the way we do, Falcon. Face it. You’re outnumbered. I wouldn’t count on making waves. Or do you like to get burned?”

  “Now is not the time. Dark souls encroach upon us.” Mine is a command, not a warning, and Claaron nods, all humor disappearing in an instant. “Liam, Claaron, take Falcon and check the tree line for signs of activity. Do not shift unless necessary” They waste not a moment, in the shadow of the trees before I turn to my brother. “Clifford, find a position atop the house and maintain a watchful eye. Same command. Human form unless otherwise necessary.”

  We do not yet know how many elves are aware of our location, if those nearby have informed others they believe us to be here. I refuse to lay a dramatic siege on their numbers, drawing attention to our presence if it is possible to avoid.

  Taking stock of Liam’s whereabouts, he senses my watchful eye and turns, gesturing an ‘all clear’ to me, continuing with his search.

  “Too close,” Jai says quietly at my side.

  The scent of elves grows strong on the light breeze, prickling the hairs on my neck. “Come with me.” Jai joins me in moving toward the thick grove of trees where the repugnant scent hangs heaviest. Halfway across the lengthy yard, the others rendezvous with us, and I gesture for Claaron to come closer. “To the front. Go.” He breaks off from our group at a full run without question, always taking danger seriously, though it seems more so in matters regarding Cait.

  “A dragon skilled enough to be your Second-in-Command should be at the forefront of the attack. Leave the little magician relegated furthest from battle.” Falcon’s tone falls flat, though his glare speaks harshly to me.

  Liam’s composure snaps, and he lunges into Falcon’s face. “As Theo’s Tactical Advisor, I advise you to shut the fuck up, Falcon, before I tactically shut you up.”

  “Enough,” I command them both. “Now is not the time. They’re coming from this area.” I wave toward a swath of the tree line, ranging from our right to a large pond. “Liam, take right flank. Falcon, you and I shall engage in a frontal assault.”

  “You and I?” His eyes narrow in a suspicious glare.

  I grin, teeth bared. “You have concerns regarding my abilities as a warrior. Perhaps I need you at my side to ensure nothing goes awry.” My tone inflects no hint of sarcasm.

  “If he gets very close swinging that sword, Falcon, I’d duck and run if I were you,” Liam remarks, walking away to take his commanded position.

  Ignoring that comment, Falcon nods toward Jai. “And what of the little illusionist?”

  “Jai will do what Jai does best.” He raises a brow, and I know he cannot imagine what use Jaiteru could be in battle. “With his tricks and illusions, Jai picks off the enemy, killing them while they are unaware he walks among them in haunting forms they cannot see.”

  Smiling, Jai winks. “Cannot see. Cannot touch. Death touch them.” He leans forward, closer to Falcon, voice quieter than usual. “Death touch you. Death not touch me.” Not allowing for a reply, Jai eerily disappears into a ground fog, creeping toward the trees.

  “Do not discount those who engage in battle with weapons you do not understand.” I unsheathe my Norse broadsword, giving it a few practice swings, watching Falcon’s hand twitch toward the sword at his side instinctively.

  “I prefer my katana.”

  Glancing over as we move toward the woods, I acknowledge, “Yes. The dragon handle carving is quite masterful.”

  “I told my house brothers,
should I die, collect my body. Do not allow scavengers to desecrate it. In my one death, Rykah did so. I had the handle carved of my former body’s bone.”

  Though I am quite positive Falcon believes this to be a sign of strength or honor or some such notion of warrior mentality he claims to have, undoubtedly, Cait would declare this to be definitive proof that Falcon suffers from some psychological malady.

  We fall silent as we reach the trees, gliding among their shadows with the stealth only dragons possess, and the scent grows stronger. Spotting one elf, likely a scout, hiding behind a nearby tree, I move swiftly to take position on the opposite side of his chosen cover, reaching around to grasp his mouth with one hand, running my sword into his neck, down the length of his body. Slowly dropping him to the ground, I look to Falcon who nods, and I move around to face the dead man, pulling my sword from his body.

  Screaming war cries haunt the night, and we run toward them, finding Liam on the attack, Jai’s fog swallowing random elves as if the ground opened up, and they fell through. One runs at me, spear in hand. I grab the end of it with my free hand, swinging both body and blade in a fluid movement to free his head from his neck, keeping hold of the spear. Tossing it up, I get a better grip on it, and dive into battle dually armed.

  Slashing another warrior clean across the chest, cutting him in two, I gouge a youngling through the gut with the spear, jabbing it into a nearby tree, leaving him suspended, awaiting his death to come. Recognizing me as the Alpha, two more run at me at once, armed with swords, but I drop to a knee, allowing their weapons to overshoot their mark, running the first one through to the bronzed hilt of my broadsword, pushing him backward to skewer his friend on the blade protruding from his spine.

  I hear the snap of a branch above me in time to spot the archer taking aim on me, and grab my knife from its sheath, launching it and rolling out of the way just before the elf lets loose his arrow. The arrow buries its head into the ground where I had been a moment before, its owner hitting the ground seconds after with my favorite knife wedged between his eyes. Quickly, I retrieve both my knife and sword from the bodies encasing their blades and turn to see Falcon removing his katana from the heart of the last elf within sight.

  “Two kindells,” Liam declares. “I got seven, Jai, you made what … six disappear?” Jai nods, smiling, satisfied with his contribution. “Theo, you had …”

  Taking a mental count, I add my total. “Seven, Liam.”

  “Alright, then that leaves… Oh, a whole four elves for the almighty great warrior Falcon.” Liam laughs sarcastically. “That is so much better than us highly moral dragons or the Mage dragon. We should hurry and proclaim your vast accomplishments in battle to the North Star. I’m sure Cait will be impressed enough to give you a better nickname. Maybe I’ll even help her. I can think of a few for you, asshole.”

  Falcon growls, a dark and threatening rumble, wiping the blood from his sword on his shirt then sheathing it, but Liam keeps laughing, and our angered brother walks away toward the house. “Do not discount your enemy, Liam. Perhaps these were not the only ones. We must return to the house.”

  A rush of fear jolts through me like lightning, nearly dropping me to my knees. “Cait,” I yell in a violent outcry. “Utaq!” My command lights a fire in our hearts, quickening our need to reach her. But each word Agtos spoke lurks as dark shadows, clawing at my heart, a warning of what comes.

  Chapter 7

  *Claaron*

  Shattered glass. Spilt blood. And Cait. So beautiful yet so broken, cradled like a child in Oliver’s arms.

  Evan runs up behind me, terror radiating from him. “I heard the ruckus. Oh, my … is she—”

  Hushing him with a finger to his lips, I shake my head. “Do not. Do not say it. Do not think it. I mean no disrespect, but please return to the house, and do not trespass on the affairs of dragons. The North Star is ours.”

  He nods, glancing at his brother before dropping his gaze to the ground. “And what of my brother?”

  “Corrin belongs to Oliver and has sworn fealty to Cait. So long as he should mind his mouth, we will pay him no mind and allow his presence.” Evan turns away in silence, and I go to Oliver, providing a wordless warning to the young vampire as I pass. “Brother, I know you wish to protect her.” I kneel nearby, but dare to touch neither him nor Cait. He is far too on edge, their bond woven so tightly. “She is still fragile. We must lay her down, assess her injuries, see what can be done.” The sound of battle continues in the trees, and Clifford remains on the rooftop as lookout. “Stay near. Hold her head if you wish, but you must let her go.”

  “Let her go?” He looks to me, distraught yet dangerous. “Will you say the same to Theo? Tell her he must let her go. You did not let Rainelm go so easily … I may love her differently, but she is no less to me. I cannot let Caitie go.”

  I bite my tongue until I taste blood, and take a deep breath. “You know that is not what I mean. Jai will be here soon, and he will need a clear look at her.”

  With a shuddering breath, he clenches his jaw and nods, leaning to press his lips to her forehead, a tear slipping down his cheek, and I cannot deny how he has taken a special place in her heart, as she has in his. As I assist him in laying her on the ground, I catch sight of the dagger protruding low at her side. I will not yet ask what happened. Theo will demand answers soon enough, and that will take its toll on Oliver.

  “I tried removing it only to find it bled far worse. Perhaps Jai knows a better way.” From the blood soaking his suit, I daresay anything to worsen matters is best let alone without Jai’s guiding hand. “We could cry rivers of tears and not heal what has been done,” he whispers softly, the words perhaps meant for Cait, though I do not believe she can hear them.

  “No. Our tears are not meant for such dire circumstances.” Oliver moves to kneel and rest her head on his knees, cradling her neck in his hand as he strokes her hair. I stay near, wiping dirt and blood from her face. “You didn’t try—”

  “Believe me. I considered it. But the risk …”

  “I know. If we lose her …” And I stop myself, unwilling to say it aloud, to admit how much Cait brightens our future with hope, but her death would darken it with a sadness dragons have never known.

  A cold mist rushes through the air, transforming into Jai, eyes darting everywhere as he assesses the scene. “They come.” He gestures toward the woods and falls to his knees, growling at us both. “Stay away. No touch.” Jai leans in, defensive and protective of Cait, but neither Oliver nor I move back.

  His eyes blaze in pain, but he is not alone, and we refuse to bend to his will. Our shared fear is a living nightmare—a palpable monster, pacing the lawn, snarling and vicious.

  Sitting back on his heels, Jai nods, a small growl letting us both know he’s not satisfied to concede, but he will. And his hands are on Cait’s young, fragile, human body, gentle in their every move, eyes closed as he feels along the site of the stab wound, up her side, and rests a hand on her chest, over her heart. I do not like how he shakes his head, so slow and saddened. “Too faint.”

  My own heart wants to stop in my chest, shatter like the glass scattered on the ground. Oliver strokes her hair again, tangling strands around his fingers as if he can hold her here with us by such a tether. I want him to. I wish it were possible.

  Theo arrives, dropping his sword and scabbard to the ground, at least ten feet from us, face blanching at the sight of his Cait. Liam and Falcon stand at his sides. Perhaps I should gesture for him to come closer, to be with her while he still can, but I don’t. I can’t call him ‘stupid dragon’ and tell him to man up to this while I’m crumbled on my knees, as broken in heart as Cait is broken in body.

  He stumbles forward, falls to his knees at her side, and takes her hand in his. “Who did this?”

  The tone of his words demands answers, yet they are spoken softly as if to speak too loud may disturb Cait. Were there no blood trailing from her mouth or body, or she did not lie wit
h the stillness of lurking death, I could believe she slept. It wouldn’t be the first time she fell asleep, ignoring us milling around her.

  Oliver clears his throat, exhaling deeply, and I don’t envy him in this moment. A quick glance around, unable to keep looking at Cait if I want to maintain any measure of composure for Theo’s sake, I notice Clifford has joined us. He kneels behind Jai, a hand on our small brother’s shoulder, offering support.

  Liam and Falcon stand close beside Theo. Liam remains stock-still, eyes speaking the horror his silence refuses to put into words. Yet Falcon stares down at Cait, the first expression of emotion I’ve seen in him flickering in those red eyes.

  Pain.

  “He brought in three warriors with him.” Oliver’s voice is but a whisper, and he runs his fingers over the smooth skin of her forehead as he speaks. “I haven’t the faintest how he managed. The room became cold then dark, and then they were there out of thin air. Corrin ended one, I the other two. Neither of us could prevent him from reaching Caitie. It was as if he were more shadow than man.” He shakes his head slowly, hunched over Cait, forgoing all pride in his pain. “This was nothing I’ve seen short of Jai’s abilities … she defended herself just as trained, fought hard, and drew blood, but he … I do not know. His dagger penetrated deep. When he vanished, she was in shock, and stumbling backward. We tried to reach her, yet neither of us could grasp hold of her before she went crashing out the window. I dove out after her, but it was too late.”