Fate's Fools Box Set

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Fate's Fools Box Set Page 13

by Bell, Ophelia


  It hadn’t been a proper mating song, which was the crazy thing—some other person had written it, not me. Yet I remembered how absolutely thrilled I’d been to have him join me, and then how his voice had drawn me into the lyrics, and how I’d had the briefest wish for a man as sweet and handsome as he was to love me the way my parents all loved their own mates. Their soul mates.

  I closed my eyes. There were only two things I really wanted in this world, even more than I wanted to understand how to make my wimpy powers work. The biggest one was a soul. I’d been born without one, and was almost positive that lack was what held me back from my powers maturing.

  The other was a soul mate. But how do you find a soul mate if you don’t have a soul?

  The hounds seemed as keenly interested in souls as I was. If they were connected to me, could their desires have overlapped with mine and compelled them to attack?

  That made no sense, considering so many members of the bloodline had fallen victim before I’d arrived. But the last four victims had been attacked in my presence as a result of my actions. At least that was how it seemed on the surface.

  A hot coal lodged in my throat as I stared at Rohan. He gazed back at me so tenderly, it was all I could do not to throw myself into his arms.

  Steeling myself, I sat up straighter. “The one that was just here seemed to want some kind of . . . approval from me for what it had done. Like it was giving me a gift. It was right here at first . . .” I gestured to my side. “Then it went to Rohan and nuzzled at his soul, then looked at me like its accomplishment deserved my praise.”

  A voice popped into my head. “Are you a dragon?”

  My gaze shot to Rohan, who smiled, his golden eyes sparkling. I almost missed the question Sandor asked then.

  “You say you don’t have a soul, correct?”

  I nodded and started to speak when Rohan’s voice was in my head again.

  “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that? Getting bitten on the soul was worth it to hear you sing.”

  “Ah, yeah, that’s right.” My brow twitched and I forced my attention back to Sandor, trying my best to ignore Rohan.

  “What’s your name, pretty girl without a soul?”

  I glared at him. “It’s Deva. Can you just stop for a minute? This is important!”

  Sandor narrowed his eyes at Rohan. “Am I missing something?”

  Rohan responded with a half shrug and leaned back on the sofa, wincing and covering his abdomen as though he could actually feel the wound on his soul. “Just testing her talents. You’ll be happy to know she’s probably part dragon.”

  “I could’ve told you that, if you’d asked,” I snapped, though I was secretly pleased by the warm hum of interest that lingered in my head, like he was just biding his time until we finished the conversation. “The truth is I’m a hybrid of all four higher races, so yes, I am part dragon. But I don’t have a soul. I was born without one.”

  Sandor studied me, frowning. “Fate hounds are a mystery to most of the higher races, but the turul have known about them for a while now—several centuries, at least. We were cursed by Fate to have no choice who our true mates were. They were predetermined for us, with no clues as to how we should seek them out.

  “Fate didn’t exactly make it easy to find them, either. Fate hounds exist to help soul mates find each other, at least if you don’t have the misfortune of having been born a turul. I made that guitar with the hope of . . .” He tilted his head back and forth. “Let’s say, luring a fate hound and compelling it to search for my soul mate. Except I was never strong enough to actually use the thing.”

  My brows creased as I looked between Sandor and Willem, who had perched on the arm of the chair with his big hand on his friend’s shoulder. He squeezed and Sandor gave him a tight smile.

  Their auras were so closely intermingled it was clear to me that they were lovers, yet they didn’t have the soul link I’d witnessed between my parents and their own mates.

  Sandor sighed. “No, Willem is not my One. I wish he were . . . I love him more than life despite that, but a turul always knows the second they set eyes on their true mate. We also know better than to force a soul bond with someone new and break the tie with the person Fate chose for us. I want to find that person so badly. I have to believe that if she really is my One, she’ll love Willem as I do. You can play the guitar, you can control the hounds. Maybe you can find my soul mate too.”

  I balked. “Not if this is what these hounds actually do! I’m not going to put more innocent people at risk!”

  Sandor shook his head. “No, and I wouldn’t ask you to, but I’m telling you, this is not how fate hounds are supposed to behave. They don’t bite. They’re supposed to sing. At least that’s the lore I’ve always heard. They come in pairs, and they seek out pairs of souls who are made for each other.

  “Then the hounds sing to those two souls, marking them. It’s sort of like charging two pieces of metal with magnetic fields that are designed to attract only each other, then the pair of soul mates are drawn to each other whether they like it or not. And once they find each other . . .” He clapped his hands together and twined his fingers. “Bam, soul mates.”

  “But turul don’t get that?”

  “Nope. Something to do with shit Ouranos pulled at the dawn of time that pissed Fate off. My race has been cursed to wander, searching for our mates without having that extra nudge, so we’ve tried everything we can find to improvise other ways. Our songs are the closest things we have. When we compose our mating song, we leave it unfinished, hoping that the person it calls to will hear it and complete it. But simply hearing that song can be enough to start drawing the two soul mates together.”

  I pondered his explanation, feeling a tug at my own empty core where I knew a soul should be. It hurt, that ache, but Rohan’s interest made it almost bearable for once.

  “Maybe if we can learn why they bite, we can figure out a way to undo the effects,” I said.

  “We know it has something to do with the bloodline,” Sandor offered. “You said so yourself, and Willem and Rohan both qualify, even though they’re dragons. And we all know the origin of the bloodline isn’t exactly squeaky clean, even if it has been taken over by Dionysus now.”

  I shook my head, but didn’t respond. My origins were as dubious as the bloodline itself. More so, in fact, which just reinforced my conviction that somehow I was tied to these hounds in ways I didn’t quite understand yet, but was determined to.

  6

  Deva

  “I need to get back to the hospital,” I said, rising. “There were other victims there that I need to check on.”

  I hoped that the Dylans had managed to go home, but if something had happened to keep them at the hospital, it was the best place to start. Besides, the unnamed victim was still there. I needed to know if he had woken up.

  The four men all stood, leaving me feeling conspicuous as I clutched the blanket to my chest and glanced around awkwardly.

  “You going back out like that?” Keagan asked. “Or is the dragon part of you capable of conjuring clothes?”

  My cheeks heated. I lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I usually can, but the hound leached all the remaining power out of me when it leapt through my body trying to get to Rohan. I’m tapped.”

  At my side, Rohan swiftly tore his t-shirt over his head. “Here.”

  I stared at the white cotton clutched in his trembling fist. His skin rippled as though shimmering gold scales flowed beneath the surface. Glancing up at him, I couldn’t miss the sheen of sweat across his brow and the hazy look in his eyes. His soul was still hemorrhaging power, and if he reacted the way most dragons did to the loss of magic, we were in trouble.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking the shirt. When our hands met, I had the strangest impulse to hold onto him.

  I took the shirt with one hand and clasped my other around his wrist, unsure where that instinct came from. It reminded me of the day I’d first con
nected with the bloodline, when my sheer desire to push every ounce of my power out to them allowed me to reach each and every last soul among them.

  Rohan had been one of those souls, I realized, and he needed my power again, if only just a drop to calm the desperate dragon he was barely able to contain beneath his skin.

  Power I didn’t realize I still had surged through my palm. My vision tunneled to a pin-prick and I gasped at the light-headedness that overtook me. Rohan breathed in sharply, his golden eyes fixed on mine. As the dizziness overwhelmed me, I lost my grip on him and the shirt and found myself wrapped in his arms.

  “Deva, what are you doing? You’ll hurt yourself if you don’t stop.” His voice was rough with worry in my ear.

  My fuzzy brain could barely comprehend his words, my senses were so full of him. His dragon scales were close to the surface, warm and velvety beneath my cheek, and he smelled like sunrise in the Glade. His dense pectorals bulged as he stroked my back, and I was mesmerized by the design tattooed on his skin. It looked like a pair of abstract wings and was familiar somehow, yet I couldn’t remember why.

  He urged me back to the chair and pulled his shirt down over my head, gently nudging my arms to guide them through the sleeves. Then he peered into my eyes.

  “Is there a chance you’re hiding a Prismatic dragon in there? Is that why you almost killed yourself to give me power?”

  His words echoed inside my skull for several seconds before I made sense of them. I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’ve never been able to display enough power to tell.”

  “Is one of your parents a dragon?”

  Before I could answer that, Willem squatted in front of me. “She’s definitely part Prismatic. And she needs to learn to control that urge to transmit power. She’s too young yet to know better. Aren’t you, Deva?”

  As he looked into my eyes, his deep baritone resonated in my mind. “I know who you are now, Chimera. You’re the child our enemy sought to recapture before the war and failed. You’re Nikhil’s daughter. Your father will be looking for you.”

  I bristled and scowled at him. “I’m sure my entire family is looking, but it’s hard to track down a soulless creature. I intend to find the truth about these hounds before they drag me back home.”

  Willem’s lips tightened as though hiding a smile. “That’s good, because I need you to find their secret too. I’m on your side, but your power is too weak and undisciplined to do much good. You can help Rohan control the dragon until you find a remedy for his damaged soul, but you need to replenish your own power first. And Sweet Mother, please try harder to control the need to transmit power to him, or you will kill yourself.”

  With that he stood, albeit slowly and a little unsteadily until Sandor reached his side and wrapped an arm around his waist. In a shaky voice, Willem added, “Keagan, you need to get these two home right away. Rohan’s power isn’t going to hold his human form for long. Deva can help, but she needs to be replenished before she can do anything.”

  Replenished. It finally hit me what he meant.

  “I can take him myself and take care of him,” Keagan said, giving me a threatening look.

  “You’re not one of Gaia’s chosen, kid,” Willem said. “You can’t channel enough magic for him. Not as grave as that wound is. I can’t see his soul the way Deva can, but his aura’s fading fast. It’ll be all Sandor can do to keep me from going feral this afternoon, but he’s got tools you don’t. Deva is Rohan’s best chance, so let her help.”

  “We rode our bikes here this morning. I can’t exactly cart him home that way, and definitely not her too. Besides, you know how the Maestro gets about women in the house.”

  “We can take my car,” I croaked. “My keys are still down in the store.” Luckily I hadn’t been holding my purse when Rohan had blasted me. The few items I had that weren’t conjured were contained in it, including the car keys and my phone.

  “Excellent,” Willem said. “Go, Keagan. Sandor will help you get them down to the car, but don’t waste time once you’re home. We don’t need a feral dragon on the loose in Malibu.”

  I thought Keagan might object again, but he reluctantly nodded. “Keys?”

  “In my purse, down by the guitars.” I struggled to rise again, and Keagan frowned and pushed me gently back down.

  “I’ve got this,” he said. He cast a quick glance down at Rohan, then at me again. His shoulders dropped with what could have been resignation and he trotted out the door.

  It wasn’t until he was gone that I realized I had my hand on Rohan’s head, my fingers lightly stroking his golden waves, his cheek resting on my thigh.

  A burst of overprotective warmth filled my chest—a desire to see him whole again that came from more than just a simple need to fix things, but an overwhelming desire to do right by this man, who I knew had somehow been harmed because of me.

  I swallowed a lump in my throat at the thought of Bodhi and the similar drive I had to help him. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt this way, either, and I had the sneaking suspicion that this was one of those rogue powers I needed to learn to rein in before it killed me. The first two times I’d opened up my heart to men, I’d had it broken, and both of those instances had happened in barely the span of a day as well. They were also both recent enough that I was raw from them.

  Keagan returned several minutes later, keys in hand. “C’mon, Ro, let’s get you home,” he said, dropping to a crouch to hook his arm around Rohan’s back.

  The big dragon struggled as he rose, leaning heavily on Keagan, but to some degree able to move under his own power.

  “You think you can walk on your own, little blackbird?” Sandor said, offering a hand, which I took. I blinked away dark spots when I stood and he chuckled. “Didn’t think so. I’ve got you.”

  The next thing I knew, he’d scooped me up in his arms and was carrying me down the stairs. By the time my vision cleared and the world stopped tilting, I was in my own backseat. The door shut behind me and a big hand wrapped around mine, then pulled me close. Rohan’s breath puffed against my head.

  “Still don’t regret it,” he murmured.

  I didn’t understand why he should feel such a strong connection to me, or why I should feel the same after having met him just today. But I couldn’t say it was an unusual experience.

  Keagan opened the driver’s side door and spent a moment readjusting the seat before climbing in and starting the engine. He turned to look over his shoulder at us, lips pressed into a tight line. He filled the interior of the car in true ursa male fashion, his dark brown hair brushing the ceiling and his shoulders wider than the seat by half. Dark ink peeked out of the neckline of his t-shirt like tendrils seeking the sun.

  He regarded the pair of us solemnly for a moment, his look not exactly unkind, but hardly hospitable. I was abstractly grateful for his dislike; it seemed all it took was a little kindness from a fertile, unattached male for me to fall for him.

  “You two hang on, all right? We’ll be home in a few.”

  Rohan chuckled. “Maestro’s going to be pissed if he found out we brought a girl home.”

  “He’ll deal once he knows why,” Keagan said, facing forward again and putting the car in gear.

  I clung to Rohan, careful to focus enough to avoid pushing more of my nonexistent power through my palm where it rested against his waist. He felt good, though, and I snuggled close, soaking up the feeling of safety in his arms that I hadn’t had in far too long. Being safe and loved with your family was a far cry from the safety of a lover’s arms.

  “He isn’t your lover,” a little voice reminded me, but I dismissed it. He was a dragon. I was part dragon. After what had just happened and the mutual state of depleted power we were in, our status as lovers was inevitable. Whether it ever turned into more, I couldn’t predict, but the only way for us to manage this particular hunger was to share each other’s bodies.

  Except with us both as spent as we were and Rohan’s soul still h
emorrhaging, that wouldn’t work.

  I shot a look at the front of the car, realizing finally what Willem had told Keagan before we left. I needed to be replenished before I could help Rohan, but Rohan was in no state to help me with my own issue. A pair of dragons with empty wells could usually help each other—the magic we drew to our bodies when our desire was primed came from the world around us, like iron filings attracted to a magnet—but Rohan was going to need more than I could absorb during the course of my own arousal. I needed a partner who wasn’t already compromised.

  Keagan’s scowl in the rearview mirror took on new meaning. Somehow he found the idea of being that intimate with me distasteful, and that hurt.

  Chest burning, I redirected my gaze out the window and let myself absorb the comfort of Rohan’s embrace. Beyond the glass, the coastline sped by, the Pacific ocean a sheet of dark glass beneath a brilliant blue sky that reminded me of my stepmother’s eyes.

  Belah would have understood my pain. Hell, all three of the women I called “Mother” would no doubt understand. It was their mates—my fathers—whose need to control my life had pushed me away. I’d have gone to them for help, if I wasn’t absolutely certain they would have steamrolled my efforts to prove I could stand on my own.

  Their inability to track me down was the only saving grace of my lack of a soul. They would no doubt find me eventually. They had other resources. But I would take advantage of the head start I had.

  Beneath my ear, Rohan’s chest vibrated with a sick groan.

  “Better step on it, man. I’m losing it back here.”

  Keagan’s brow furrowed in the rear-view and he gave a terse nod. The car’s engine roared as he tore up the highway.

  I lifted my head and looked at Rohan. His bare chest shimmered with scales that were there, then gone with every labored breath.

  Shifting my vision, I glanced at the center of his abdomen and winced at the alarming rate at which his soul was bleeding.

 

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