by Eve Langlais
The spinning vortex began to pull at her, not just physically but also at a cognitive level. Much like someone yanking taffy, her memories stretched out of her—a long, thick chunk of visions. Dozens of timelines tugged away.
She didn’t fight it. She let them go.
Those were the visions that had never come to pass. They took up valuable headspace.
She let the pair grab those memories and more. Let them siphon the millions of things she held inside. With each yank, she felt herself growing lighter.
Faint. She closed her eyes, and her head lolled.
She dropped into a vision.
Luc, looking fierce and lovely. “Elspeth, where are you?”
“Right here, silly,” she giggled.
“Are you hurt?”
“Not yet. But I imagine it will hurt when they light the fire.”
Grawwrrr. He roared in her vision. She snapped open her eyes and realized she still heard a roar.
In real life.
The taffied memories continued to spool from her, freeing up corners of her mind that she’d lost long ago. The cobwebs were swept. The attic cleaned. She felt great. At peace. Empty. Only her personal life memories were left. As it should be.
But the taffy puller wanted more. The vortex tugged at the core of her, yanked at her true memories kept hidden in a vault.
Um, no thank you. She shoved back at the wind.
It insisted. Hand over those memories. Memories that would give them secrets they shouldn’t have.
She thickened the shield. They’re mine. Don’t touch them.
He tried, though. Just had to poke. The nerve. And from a banished dragon mage no less.
She dropped the dreamy face. Slammed the door of her mind shut.
Then knew what she had to do.
Get rid of Maedoc and his brother.
They shouldn’t be here, feeding on the innocent.
Both should have died a long time ago.
Don’t think like that. Happy thoughts.
Happy thoughts were to combat the bad visions.
She had none right now.
Just me, myself, and an ancestry that says you don’t fuck with a Yellow dragon.
Bring on the arrogance. As her hands wiggled in the rope, her body swayed slightly side to side, testing the pole. She needed more time. “You are breaking the terms of your banishment.”
The whirling wind dropped in time for her to see Eogan sneer. “I’m pretty sure I could argue in a court that we’ve more than served our sentence.”
“How do you figure, given you’ve committed even more atrocious acts?”
“Says you. There’s no one alive to say otherwise.” Eogan smirked.
As for Maedoc, he was bent over at the waist, holding his head.
“He doesn’t look so good.”
“He’ll get over it. It will take him time to process the influx of information from your head.”
“It might also drive him insane.”
“Possibly. I guess we’ll see.” Eogan smiled, made all the more evil because of his beauty. As Alfred, he was an elderly, distinguished gentleman, propriety personified. Having reverted to a young man, he was now virility on steroids. Handsome, fit, and projecting some hardcore boy-dragon hormones.
If it weren’t for her day with Luc, she might have felt a quiver. Now, she just felt anger. Rage that this man who should have died centuries ago was standing between her and her happily ever after.
“Why couldn’t you have just lived quietly?” she asked.
“We were quiet. Subtly building power and staying alive for the day we’d return. Now, we want to make some noise.”
“You won’t get away with this.”
“I don’t expect to. And might I say how nice it is that you’re still coherent and feisty. I really thought that you might be a babbling mess after that spell. It’s why I had you put on the pole. But now, I’m thinking maybe we should reconvene elsewhere. With fewer clothes and some chains.”
Elspeth fluttered her lashes. “I’d rather die,” she said sweetly.
He laughed. “You say that now, but I promise you will beg me for it. Harder. Faster. You’ll totally ask for—”
“Death.” The word emerged almost like a sibilant hiss despite the lack of an S in it. On its heels, a shadow descended from the sky. Massive, winged, the body thick and muscled, his tattoos darker than before. A bigger version of Luc with horns and cloven hooves, his skin a charcoal gray and leathery.
Her demon.
He came.
She’d not been sure he would, but knew any kind of possible future relied on it.
With his appearance, her magic stirred. Possibilities brewed, but she didn’t have time to sift through any visions.
She needed to get off this pole, especially once she saw Maedoc lift his head, eyes gleaming a pure red, no whites left. His voice, deep and ragged, commanded, “Light the pyre. It will destroy the demon.”
Luc roared and dove at the brothers, who split. From overhead, she heard a trill, and she craned to see a silver streak.
“Babsy!” she yelled. “Knock me over, would you?”
The silver body immediately banked and dove for the pole but didn’t reach it before the fireball that hit the dry kindling.
Whoosh.
The heat of it singed the air, and Elspeth knew her time was limited. She’d have to move fast.
Babette came in and alit behind her, giving the pole a shove hard enough to make it groan as it cracked.
However, a dagger tossed by Eogan drew a sharp cry before Babette could completely free Elspeth.
He hurt my bestie! The smell of dragon blood was distinct.
The other brother sauntered closer. “If it isn’t the Silver Voadicia was fucking.” Maedoc smirked. “How’s it feel knowing you betrayed your people?”
Babette blarted something rude.
“Go get him, Babsy. I got this.”
With a trumpet, Babette flung herself off the pyre, one of her wings sporting streaks of blood and a small tear. But that scratch wasn’t the biggest concern of the moment.
The flames licked, and the smoke thickened. Elspeth couldn’t waste time. She flung herself left and right. The weakened post snapped and fell over.
It didn’t quite free her. She tumbled down the pyre, singing her clothes, ignoring the burns as she rolled clear of the burning pile. She inched up the pole until her arms were freed. It took a bit more wiggling to slide her arms to the front.
Then the gnawing she’d practiced came into play, freeing her wrists. Under a minute. Must have been cheap rope.
She sprang to her feet and ran just as a fireball hit the spot with the remnants of her pole.
“Missed me! Missed me! Now you get to deal with me,” she sang, sprinting toward Maedoc, who was probably the more dangerous of the two.
Some might think, so what if he hummed off-key? Except she knew he wasn’t making music. He was preparing to cast a spell. A big one. Which is why, when she ran past Babette, she grabbed the dracinore dagger protruding from Babsy’s wing.
The humming turned into an open-mouthed chant, and she knew she had very little time to stop him. To save Babette.
But her legs just weren’t long enough, her pace not fast enough. Good thing she’d practiced knife throwing.
The blade left her palm hilt over tip, spinning in the air, catching fiery glints. She was feeling pretty good about her toss. About to cheer.
Thunk.
The pommel hit Maedoc in the chest, and the knife fell to the ground.
He looked up and smiled. “My turn.”
Uh-oh.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Caught dodging spells, Luc only absently noted the bright yellow out of the corner of his eye. Elspeth had drawn on her dragon.
She’d need that extra layer of toughness because the brothers were hard to kill—as he’d learned to his chagrin.
Somehow, Luc had thought that turning into his demo
n would solve his problem.
Especially given how much it hurt!
Having the skin flayed from your body probably felt like a tickle compared to turning into a massive beast, though. Luc might have screamed in a very unmanly fashion when his rage over Elspeth being taken finally made him snap.
His beast had popped out. Quite literally. Wings and all. The tail had especially stung.
But he couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride. He’d done it. Tapped into his demon self. He was strong. Fierce.
I’m coming to save you, Elspeth.
He went to dash out of the house, only to find himself foiled by a pair of towering appendages and a single kitchen door, the combination requiring him to detour out of the kitchen to the front.
Emerging outside, the morning sun caused him to blink, allowing Babette to catch up.
“Where are you going, dude?”
“Elspeth.” Her name emerged as a rumbly growl.
“I get you want to save her, but we don’t even know where she is.”
“I know.” His yell for Elspeth had resulted in her answering in his head, but he’d take it. At least it gave him a direction to go in. “We go this way.”
“You found her?”
“Bad place.” He found himself incapable of speaking more than simple words. The calmness in Elspeth as she accepted her fate had caused a panic in him.
He’d lost so much in his life already. I can’t lose her, too.
He jumped. And landed. Jumped harder, yet hit the ground rather than soar.
“What are you doing?”
“I am going to get her.” He forced the words out as he flapped his wings a few times. He didn’t even levitate an inch.
“Try giving it a running start,” Babette remarked.
He dashed across the ground, flapping his wide, gray wings and accomplishing nothing but annoyance. He yelled.
Babette yelled back. “That’s a boy. Scream. Because that will help Elsie.”
He whirled and glared. “I could destroy you.”
“Elsie wouldn’t like that.”
True. “Only if she finds out.”
“Listen, dude. I don’t like you, you don’t like me. That’s cool, but we both like Elsie, which means we have to work together.”
Which was how he found himself on a parapet about to jump.
Of course, Babette never let him count to three. She shoved. He fell.
Like a rock.
He used magic and managed to keep from becoming a demon pancake.
Once aloft, flying became easier, but he never let go of the magic. Babette streaked silver alongside him. Following the tug on his psyche that told him where to go, he soared through the sky to Elspeth’s rescue.
The first glimpse of her tied to a pole, her dress flaring in the wind, a bright red beacon, he lost what control he had left.
He roared.
The perpetrators, those who’d had a hand in taking Elsie, killing his family, and torturing him were both present.
Maedoc and Eogan. The last of the dragon mages.
Kill them, said the spirit of his mother.
Mercy, said his father.
Luc always was his mother’s son.
He went after Eogan first since the silly man had chosen to keep his tiny, fleshy body.
“I will rip out your heart,” Luc said, alighting on the ground, his hoofs gripping the earth.
Eyes a bright red, a sign he held magic, Eogan raised his head and cackled. “Little demon boy. You should have stayed in the castle. Now, you’ll get to watch me eat your girlfriend.”
Luc roared as he charged Eogan, who danced out of his way. Luc rushed past and stumbled, completely missing.
“Clumsy demon. I’ve lived forever compared to you. Do you really think you have the strength and skill to beat me?”
The thread of doubt sought to weave around Luc. He batted it down and stood to face his enemy, chest heaving. “Evil.” The only word he could mutter.
“Evil is in the eye of the victim. I see myself more as a conquering hero. I survived. And I will continue to survive because I am not afraid to fight.”
“Then fight,” Luc growled. He moved in, closed fists swinging.
Eogan evaded, moving with a sinuous grace Luc envied. Then, the dragon mage attacked.
Eogan lashed out at Luc, yet it wasn’t a fist that hit him but a punch of air. It flung him back to hit the ground close to the burning pyre.
He rose to his feet and faced Eogan. He studied his opponent. Fit. Human. Overly confident. Probably because he had a sleeve full of spells to lob at Luc.
However, Luc also had magic. Pure demon magic. Whose was stronger?
He began to huff out through his nose, an old technique his mother had taught him for focus. Others stamped their foot. Or snapped fingers. As he huffed, he tugged at the river of magic coursing through this place. This world was so plentiful.
Eogan laughed. “I see what you’re doing. Do you really think you can outmatch me?”
“No.” But Luc hoped to outsmart him. He didn’t attack Eogan. He did nothing overt with his magic. Rather, he sent it down into the ground, sent it deep and imagined, more than felt, the tremor.
Eogan lobbed electrical blue balls at him. “You really should have stayed behind or at least not gotten involved.”
“You took Elspeth.”
“Which was an error. Our plan called for her to be taken after your arrest by the dragons.”
“For crimes you committed.”
“And framed you for. Damn demons and their murdering ways.” Eogan’s lips curled. “Once they find her body and your scent all over her, they’ll make the only assumption.”
“That you’d look better without your head.” Luc flicked his hand and sent several missiles of pure energy, crackling balls that snapped and sizzled, at Eogan, who ducked them and laughed.
“Is that your best?”
Luc flung a large rock, and as Eogan ducked, Luc said, “No, that was a ploy.” The ground underfoot rumbled and then cracked right under Eogan’s feet.
His features took on a startled appearance then shock as the ground continued to crumble, forming a large hole. Eogan didn’t have a chance to escape.
Throwing himself aloft, Luc hovered over the hole in time to see Eogan bounce off the sides of the chasm, long hidden under the ground, an old volcano mouth grown over, the lava tunnels raging with water. Eogan’s limp body hit the torrent rushing through, and Luc saw the bobbing body bang the wall a few times before getting sucked into a tube.
Which left just one more threat.
Hovering mid-air, Luc pivoted to see Maedoc firing bolts of light at the dragonesses. Babette bore several burned streaks while Elspeth dodged each one as if she knew where to expect them.
Did her visions help her? A handy trick if they did.
But she should not have to dodge at all. He drew more magic to him and gathered it until he was full.
He pulled enough that even Maedoc noticed. He turned with wide eyes to exclaim, “What are you doing, you dumb demon?”
Skin sizzling with power, his veins coursing with energy, he smiled. “This is for my mother, asshole.”
Then, Luc clapped his hands, sending out a wave of pure, menacing magic and obliterated the dragon mage.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Luc didn’t wake up for two days. Two days of chaos where Babette and Elspeth had to explain to their Golden king what had happened. Stand witness as Joanna, who’d betrayed her Sept, received her punishment, and Elspeth’s mother appeared, thinking she was going to drag her daughter home.
“I’m not going with you,” Elspeth told her mother while standing outside Luc’s bedroom door.
“You can’t stay here. With him. The king hasn’t made a decision about him yet.”
“Either he kills Luc, or he doesn’t. Either way, I’m not leaving.”
“He’s a demon. Not a dragon.”
“I know.”
“He might try and use you.”
To which Elspeth replied, “He’s my anchor in the storm.”
At that, her mother’s lips pressed together, and she nodded. “Are you certain this is the future path you wish to take?”
More than anything. If he woke up. Elspeth wasn’t sure yet when or if that would happen. She’d gone back on her meds, not easily she might add. The temptation to know what the future held was a powerful thing.
However, it also took some of the surprise out of it.
Elspeth might have to numb her emotions about a lot of things, but when it came to Luc, she wanted to feel everything. Even the fear that he might not wake up.
She kept close, snuggling him, talking to him, even bathing his still body.
On the third morning, as she returned from the kitchen, she squeaked as she was grabbed and hugged. The biggest and bestest hug of her life.
“Luc!” she exclaimed.
“The one and only.”
“I was so worried. The Silver physician couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you.”
“Magic overload. I funneled too much, too quickly, and burned out. Did it work?”
“Maedoc is no more.”
“And Eogan?”
“We’ve not yet found his body, but given the violence of those tunnels and the current, it seems unlikely he survived.”
“If he did, then he will require lots of time to heal.”
“How do you feel?” she asked as he turned her in his arms.
His steady, blue gaze met hers, and his lip curled at the corner. “Well-rested. And you?”
“Happy now that you’re awake.”
“I wouldn’t leave you now that I’ve found you.”
“Promise.”
“My life for yours.” He lifted her off the floor and squeezed her tightly, swinging her around, cracking something in her spine.
Her entire body loosened, and she laughed. “The future is going to be epic.”
“Did you see it?”
“Nope. I don’t have to. I just know it.” She kissed him, a soft embrace of hello.
He took her greeting and turned it into a more carnal one, the kind with tongue.
