Dragon's Mate: A DragonFate Novel (The DragonFate Novels Book 4)

by Deborah Cooke

  The djinn moved like lightning, catching Rania around the shoulders and spinning her so that the tip of the blade was at her throat. Hadrian stood up but Rania’s eyes flashed and he recognized that she wouldn’t fight back.

  Was she surrendering her life or did she know that the djinn wouldn’t strike the final blow? He wasn’t sure but he eased back, trying to quell the telltale blue shimmer of light that surrounded him.

  The djinn addressed the Others, still holding Rania captive. “I was the wise woman of my kind. They came to me for counsel and for healing, for advice, for my glimpses into the future and for my wisdom. The Dark Queen stole that from me when she seized all the magick, trapping mine in the gem of the hoard along with her own. My uncle was devastated by the loss and his vigor failed, because he had lost hope in the future. I blame the Dark Queen for that as much as for the final stroke of the kiss of death. His death disheartened us even more, and I would take that back.” She flung Rania aside and held the bichuwa high, so that the curved blade glinted in the light. “I am Yasmina, and I would be wise woman of the djinn again. I would retrieve our legacy, so wrongfully taken from us, and I will ally with this swan-maiden to see justice served for once and for all.” She raised her voice to a roar. “Are you with me?”

  And the Others roared agreement.

  Rania ran toward Hadrian, her eyes alight with pleasure and he caught her up, swinging her around in triumph. “Take me there now,” he urged. “I need to get started, then you can come back for Yasmina.”

  She framed his face in her hands and looked deeply into his eyes, her own filled with unshed tears. “We will win,” she said with heat. “We will win, for our son.”

  “We will win because you apologized,” he told her with pride, his heart bursting that this warrior maiden was his destined mate. “It takes strength to admit a mistake.”

  “I had to learn to do it, from you,” Rania said with a smile.

  The firestorm couldn’t have chosen better for him. He loved her with every fiber of his being, and knew their partnership had been meant to be.

  Rania laughed, then the Pyr and the Others shouted approval as she kissed Hadrian thoroughly.

  He didn’t even notice the vampires or Sylvia leave.

  Mel watched as Hadrian breathed slowly and deeply in the middle of the dance floor at Bones. He’d shifted to his dragon form and Rania sat beside him, watching in silence as he banked the fires. He was much better at it than any dragon shifter Mel had seen before and she was impressed by how quickly his pulse and breathing slowed. When she thought he couldn’t go deeper into what had to be a trance, he did, until it seemed that he wasn’t breathing at all.

  She looked at Theo, only to find him watching intently, as if he could learn by example. When she looked back, Hadrian had shifted to his human form. He was so still that he could have been dead, but Rania seized his wrist, nodded once to the Pyr, then they both vanished into thin air.

  Murray gave a low whistle and turned back to pull a beer.

  It was Raymond who gave her a poke and pointed at the dance floor. “Unless I am mistaken, the dragon will have need of his armor,” the ghost whispered.

  Sure enough, an emerald and silver scale was resting there.

  “It’s not just a firestorm,” Mel told the Others, indicating Hadrian’s lost scale. “Hadrian loves her.”

  “That tells us all we need to know,” Drake said, claiming the scale from the floor. “The firestorm always chooses right for the Pyr.”

  Yasmina nodded agreement. “She won’t betray us. I could see the honor in her heart.”

  “It’s just the Dark Queen and her minions you have to worry about then,” Murray said wryly. “Oh, and the magick.”

  “Don’t forget that the Regalian magick makes its own rules,” Caleb added, then drained his drink and got up to leave.

  As much as Mel hated to admit it, they were right. There was plenty of challenge to go around. “I’ll follow Wynter and Arach,” she said on impulse. “Who else is with us?”

  Rania manifested in the Fae armory and put Hadrian down gently in the middle of the collection of weapons. She could see them glowing in the darkness around the perimeter of the locked room, which fortunately was of considerable size. It had to be to house Maeve’s collection. There weren’t any guards within the chamber, so she guessed they were stationed outside.

  Perfect.

  Hadrian shimmered blue, summoning the shift without leaving his relaxed state. Rania wanted to linger to make sure he was okay, but the longer she stayed in Fae, the greater the chance that she would be discovered.

  The success of the entire plan depended upon each of them trusting the other completely.

  She closed her eyes against the bright blue shimmer of his shift and admired his dragon form for a moment, those emerald scales glinting in the glow of the Fae blades. His claw moved and she saw the wavy blade of her kesir catch the light. She bent to retrieve it, knowing that Hadrian was giving it to her. He still had the dirk beneath his scales. She kissed his cheek and hoped he would be safe.

  Rania willed herself back to his lair to collect Alasdair, who had volunteered to be her supposed victim in Fae.

  When she got back to Hadrian’s lair, she learned that Sebastian had vanished. Balthasar had his doubts about the vampire’s intentions, but there was nothing to be done at this point. They had no chance of stopping him if he meant to betray them.

  They had to carry on with the plan and hope for the best.

  “Incompetence,” Maeve said, seething as she strode toward the cage where the swans were captive. Bryant knew to keep his distance when she was in this foul mood. Someone would pay the price and the trick to survival was to ensure he wasn’t the one.

  The swans watched her, all three of them, their gazes steady and unblinking.

  “I’ve yet to have a bite of roast swan,” she continued, her tone scathing as she glanced back at Bryant. “And now you tell me that you haven’t managed to capture the other brothers. I might need to find a new favorite.”

  “I’m here for you, my queen,” Kade said, hurrying along beside her. When she stumbled over the heath in her heels, he caught one of her elbows and lifted her, even as Bryant did the same on the other side.

  She only thanked Kade.

  Bryant didn’t like that the dragon shifter was around all the time, or that he was always close beside the Dark Queen. The truth was that Bryant didn’t want to leave Fae himself long enough to hunt down the other swan brothers. They were irrelevant when his position in Maeve’s court was potentially in peril.

  He didn’t like having competition. Maeve had always taken lovers, but this one seemed to have wormed his way into her affections with speed. There was no telling where this infatuation would end. It wasn’t like the other one, the Slayer who had been the last of his kind. And Bryant couldn’t figure out the attraction. Kade wasn’t that good looking. He couldn’t provide any insight into the activities of his fellows, not anymore. From Bryant’s view, Kade was useless, but Maeve seemed determined to keep him as a pet.

  They reached the cage with the three swans within it, and the birds hissed at them in agitation. There was no sign of any cooks or assistants.

  “I’ve sent three teams,” Maeve complained. “Where could they have gone?”

  “The swans are all still here,” Kade noted, as if to prove that he could count to three.

  “Just because they aren’t thieves doesn’t mean they haven’t betrayed me.” Maeve turned to Bryant. “Find them!”

  He couldn’t see a single thing as far as the horizon in any direction. Nothing moved. There was only the radiant glow from the Fae court under the closest mound and the endless heath. “Where should I start, my queen?” he asked, trying to keep his tone respectful.

  “If they were attacked, there could be signs of battle,” Kade provided.

  “I would know if anyone had attacked Fae,” Bryant said, his tone withering.

  �
�If they died...”

  “They did not die,” Bryant said with impatience. “Because we are all Fae except you. We don’t die. We don’t have bones. We don’t leave remains to disintegrate. We aren’t born and we don’t die, and You. Aren’t. Like. Us.”

  He was about to say that Kade didn’t belong, but Maeve spun suddenly and looked back toward the Fae court, her eyes narrowed. “Did you see that?”

  Bryant shook his head.

  “I felt something,” Kade said, predictably. Whether he’d felt anything or not, he always agreed with Maeve.

  Bryant glared at him.

  “Such a sensitive boy,” she cooed, patting Kade’s shoulder. She was distracted though, her manner intense as she stared back at the court. “I saw a light,” she said. “You’ll have to go back immediately.” She took Kade’s arm and waved at Bryant. “We’ll stay here and find those cooks. I want a swan dinner and I want it soon.”

  His mission was a ruse and Bryant knew it. There had been no light. Maeve just wanted to be alone with Kade.

  “And if I don’t find a disturbance, my queen?”

  “Then set the table for dinner. Tonight we feast!” she said, then laughed. Kade laughed with her, the two of them enjoying themselves enormously as they made their way toward the caged swans, their arms entwined and their heads bent together. “And do something about that blemish on your face, Bryant. It’s most unattractive.”

  What blemish? Bryant pulled his sword and looked at his own reflection in the blade. There was a mark on his forehead, one that hadn’t been there before. It was purple, which he couldn’t explain.

  Did Maeve find it unattractive? Was that the issue? If so, he had to find a way to get rid of it. He’d send someone else to check on the light, then try to get rid of the mark. There had to be an upside to having the right to delegate.

  Bryant glanced at the entangled couple as his resentment built, then pivoted to return to the court.

  The supposed glimpse of light was obviously a ploy. Still, he’d follow orders in the hope of an eventual return to favor. He had to get rid of that blemish. A dragon shifter couldn’t keep her satisfied forever.

  Could he?

  Hadrian kept his fires banked low with an effort. He was impatient to see their plan succeed and wanted to learn as much as possible to help Rania. He wanted to begin the slaughter of the Fae, triumph, and escape the Fae realm. Then their life together would really begin. Lying in the darkness, breathing as slowly as he could, didn’t feel like he was doing enough.

  But it was the right choice. This was the part that only he could contribute. He could feel the hoarfrost forming on the Fae blades stored all around him. The armory was getting colder as he drew out the ice, reverting the silver blades to the ice his mother had spun. He dreamed of the past and he dreamed of the future, letting his thoughts drift as his pulse slowed even more.

  He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard the footstep outside the armory.

  It was stealthy. Cautious.

  Someone knew he was there.

  Hadrian forced himself to continue breathing slowly and opened his eyes the barest slit. He heard the lock turn and saw the door to the armory open a tiny increment. The silver light of Fae illuminated the gap, then silhouetted the visitor as the door was opened wider.

  His unexpected company slipped inside, closing the door behind himself. His presence was impossible to ignore and Hadrian reviewed the glimpse of his silhouette. He was tall but a bit leaner than the one who had been with Maeve at his studio. Had this warrior come to get a weapon? No, there was one in the scabbard on his belt, one that still glowed with its full power.

  He possessed the key to the armory. That meant that either he was trusted by the Dark Queen, or he was a traitor.

  Maybe the Dark Queen had sensed Hadrian’s presence and sent a trusted servant to discover the truth.

  Maybe this warrior meant to betray Maeve for some reason and had stolen the key, intending to arm himself and whoever followed him.

  Either way, this visitor could never leave the armory.

  Hadrian opened his eyes the merest slit and watched. The armory had no light source except for the Fae blades that glowed faintly where they were stored around its perimeter. Their light had dimmed since Hadrian’s arrival and soon would be extinguished. He watched the warrior shiver, then move with purpose to claim a large sword with an elaborate hilt.

  He whispered the blade’s name beneath his breath, like an invocation, then swore softly. Hadrian could see that the blade was covered with frost and that it was considerably shorter than it had been on his arrival. The warrior lifted it before himself to examine it more closely and its meager light illuminated his confused expression. He glanced toward Hadrian, apparently mystified, then turned around to replace the blade.

  He might have chosen another, but Hadrian shifted shape and pulled Rania’s kesir from beneath his scales. He struck the Fae warrior down with a clean single stroke before the intruder could even put a hand on the hilt of his own sword.

  He spun around, his mouth open in astonishment, then dissolved into a silver puddle that gleamed on the pounded dirt floor of the armory.

  Hadrian waited, listening, but he didn’t hear any signs of pursuit. He lifted the sword from the rapidly-diminishing puddle and added it to the collection in the armory. He exhaled on the blade to encourage the frost to form, then wiped Rania’s blade and hid it again. He shifted back to his dragon form and coiled on the floor of the treasury, willing his pulse to slow as he watched the only door.

  There might be others, but he’d be ready.

  Fourteen

  “You win, Fae bait,” Wynter said to Arach in the challenging tone he was getting used to hearing. “You get to slice the portal open.”

  They were in Central Park on Thursday night, as scheduled. The Fae sword glowed with its sinister silver light in Arach’s grip. The firestorm burned golden between himself and Wynter but he’d known without asking that the chance of satisfying it before this attack on Fae had been non-existent.

  It was hard to believe that the firestorm had chosen such an infuriating, contrary, defiant woman as his destined mate. Arach had decided that his firestorm had to be a spell.

  The sooner they extinguished the Dark Queen’s power, the better. He couldn’t take much more of this persistent desire.

  He’d chosen the North Woods in the hope that they’d be unobserved. That was a long shot, given that they were accompanied by twenty determined women who were widowed wolf mates—the rest of the group from Alaska were guarding the kids—Caleb and six other wolf shifters from New York, five dragon shifters, two pregnant but resolute mates, Murray, Mel, the medusa hostess from Bones whose name he could never remember and most of the remaining members of the Circus of Wonders.

  Of the Pyr, Kristofer, Rhys, Thorolf and Theo were right behind Arach. Bree and Lila were with them, too. The Pyr each had a new pair of gloves from Quinn. Bree had her Valkyrie sword and Lila carried a trident. Each one in the invading party had armed his or herself with a weapon—or two—of choice and each was grim. They were a veritable army and Arach suspected that even here, the gathering or the open portal might be spotted by some curious human.

  The sword was cold and heavy in his grip. He wasn’t entirely sure how to wield it, much less whether it would respond to the will of someone who wasn’t Fae. He and Wynter had debated the merit of testing it in advance, but ultimately had agreed that doing so might reveal their scheme to Maeve.

  At least they agreed on something.

  A distant clock struck six.

  It was now or never.

  “Good luck to all of you,” Arach said to the silent company gathered behind him in the shadows. “Remember: don’t drink or eat anything. Don’t be fooled and don’t make any deals. Whatever you do, don’t start dancing. I hope to see you all afterward.”

  He sensed their nods and felt them brace themselves for the worst. More than one gripped a
weapon more tightly. Arach lifted the blade and tried to forget how he’d been cursed by Maeve just for entering her realm uninvited.

  “Do it, dragon dude,” Wynter whispered and he grimaced that she never called him by his name. “Do it now.”

  Arach willed the weapon to open a portal for him, sliced downward with one savage gesture and hoped. He and Wynter gasped in unison as a silver sliver of light opened between the realms. Arach could see the endless heath of Fae and the twilit sky, the one devoid of clouds and stars. In the distance, there was a mound, a golden light shining from a portal near its base. Lilting music carried over the heath, beckoning them closer. Arach shivered deep inside, unable to forget his last visit to the Fae court, and opened the portal wider. Wynter, of course, pushed past him to enter the hidden realm first, which didn’t surprise him in the least.

  He followed her, then stood guard as the intruders silently surged through the gap. No sooner had Arach closed the portal between the realms than the Fae attacked.

  “Ready?” Rania asked Alasdair.

  That Pyr shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do it.”

  The group from New York City should be entering Fae and Rania hated that she had no way to verify that they were in position. It was terrifying to embark on such an important quest and be reliant upon others to ensure success. On the other hand, they needed every talon, claw, and blade. Rania had to trust that Hadrian had melted the Fae armory, and that he’d remained undetected for three whole days. Who even knew how long that might seem in Fae? She hadn’t slept at all since leaving him there. She’d been surprised that Alasdair had changed his mind about entering Fae, but he’d insisted that he wasn’t going to miss out on a battle to the finish with the Dark Queen.

  They’d decided that instead of pretending to kill him in front of Maeve, which could go badly wrong, she’d bring his apparent corpse to the court. He’d bank the fires so that his pulse couldn’t be detected and would play dead.