Broken Skies (Dragon's Gift: The Storm Book 4)

by Veronica Douglas

  Broken Skies

  Dragon’s Gift: The Storm Book 4

  Veronica Douglas

  Linsey Hall

  For our parents, here and gone.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Author’s Note

  Wolf Bound: Night Hunt Preview

  Magic Side Map

  Acknowledgments

  Acknowledgments

  About Veronica Douglas

  About Linsey Hall

  1

  Neve

  The engines of the boat whirred as we approached Bentham Island.

  It had been three days since we’d broken the curse on the prison and banished Matthias’s genies. The prison walls had been breached in the attack, and five prisoners had managed to escape. To say the situation was bad was an understatement. Bentham was a high-security jail that held the most dangerous Magica.

  We bounced over a wave, and I tightened my grip on the cuffed devil hunched between Rhiannon and me. I’d be glad to hand him over to the Order.

  The captain gripped the wheel, knuckles white, and eyes locked on the dock ahead. “I heard there’s still one on the loose. A sorcerer or something of the sort. A real bad guy by the sounds of him.”

  Not our problem, fortunately.

  The deckhand snorted and gestured at the devil. “They’re all bad. The worst of Magica. I heard this one’s nicknamed the Ripper.”

  A low chortle escaped the devil, and Rhia jabbed him with her elbow.

  Fortunately, another Order detail had nabbed two other escapees this morning. The sooner we dropped this bastard off, the sooner I could sleep, shower, and get real sustenance. Possibly in a different order.

  The devil watched me through a pair of cat-like eyes. He shifted, and the magicuffs on his wrists scraped against the wooden bench. We’d hunted him all night and had gotten lucky. If it weren’t for the two bodies he’d left in the Dens, it might have gone differently.

  The engines quieted, and the boat glided toward a dock that had seen better days. The concrete was pockmarked by the tsunami that had hit the island, and chunks of concrete and mortar littered the shore and shallows.

  I squinted up at the translucent magic dome that protected the prison. It flickered in the early afternoon sun, and all traces of the dark curse that had plagued it just days ago had vanished.

  The deckhand shuffled toward the bow, skirting beside Rhia and leaning as far from the devil as was possible without falling off the boat. He braced himself against the gunwale and peered into the glassy water as the boat inched forward. “Ten feet of water. No obstructions.”

  The captain maneuvered the boat alongside the dock, and the deckhand leapt ashore, deftly tying to mooring lines to two metal cleats.

  Rhia turned to the devil and smirked. “Ready to go back to the pokie, Luci?”

  “How about I rip your throat out first, beautiful?” the devil growled.

  “Nope. Wrong answer.” I stood and gripped the devil by his arm, wrenching him to his feet. He growled and hexed me under his breath. Under normal circumstances I might’ve been worried, but I was running on Twizzlers and gas station coffee alone, and after the week I’d just had, I didn’t have any fucks left to give.

  We dragged the devil onto the dock, and I glanced over my shoulder. “We’ll be back in five.”

  The captain waved at me absently and resumed tending to the ropes.

  “Whatcha say we grab a few dogs from Sammy’s after this? I’m starving,” Rhia said, the exhaustion clear in her voice. She was preaching to the choir. While there was still one more prisoner on the loose, he was the archmages’s problem, not ours.

  “Oh-my-gods-yes.” My stomach grumbled at the image I’d conjured of Sammy’s Chicago dogs, then I winced at the thought of the tab I probably now owed.

  Since returning with me from the Realm of Fire, my familiar, Spark, had developed a taste for hot dogs. Well, for their essence. He was a fire sprite who liked to take the form of a dragon, and he had an unusually big appetite and a knack for thieving—

  The devil suddenly shrieked, jerked out of my grip, and swung for Rhia’s jaw. With cat-like reflexes, she deflected the blow and kneed him in the balls. The devil spat, leapt over our heads, and raced toward the concrete-littered shore.

  Red hot rage bubbled in my chest, and I savored the feeling as it spread through me, savagely wonderful. Focusing on the devil, I released my breath in a silent puff. A gust of wind rocketed forward, ramming the bastard into the ground. Delight streaked through me, and I strode forward, raising a hand.

  The devil shuffled across the dirt like a wounded animal, fear coloring his face.

  “You want to run off and leave a few more bodies, is that it? I can leave one right here.” My vision homed in on him like a predator on its prey, and I clenched my fist, enjoying the sting of my nails digging into my palm. The devil clutched his throat and flopped onto his back. His chest heaved as he gasped for air.

  “Neve.” Rhiannon appeared at my side and gently gripped my shoulder. “Stop.”

  Her words echoed through my mind, drawing me back to my senses. I opened my fist, releasing my magic. The devil sucked in air, his skin ashen.

  Guilt and shame churned in my stomach. This wasn’t who I was. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the haze. “Sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

  Rhiannon squeezed my shoulder and dragged the cowering prisoner to his feet. “Come on, you bastard.”

  She glanced back at me and nodded toward the three guards who were standing at the gate, gawking.

  Crap. They’d seen that. Not ideal.

  The devil put up little resistance as Rhia towed him to the gate and handed him to the guards. She flashed them a wide smile and shook her head, gesturing back at me with her thumb. “Mages, huh? Always showing off.”

  The guards looked between Rhia and me with blank faces before escorting the devil through the prison’s doors. Nobody but a handful of my friends and my boss knew what I was, and I had to keep it that way—an order from Gretchen, my boss.

  “Have a good one!” Rhia shouted after them, then turned to me. “That was awesome. But next time, I might suggest using a little more restraint.”

  “Fates, the anger just came out of nowhere.” Archmage DeLoren had warned me about losing control of my emotions, but I had no idea it would be this bad. It was like my feelings and my magic were interwoven.

  Rhia shimmied and shook her arms dramatically. “Ugh. Glad that’s done with. That one gave me the creeps.”

  “Really? More so than the heart-eater?” She was a serial killer witch. We’d caught her yesterday trying to make her way over the bridge to Chicago. She’d made a habit of carving out the hearts of her exes and eating them. Raw.

  Rhia shrugged. “Bastards probably had it coming.”

  Possibly. The witch’s victims had had a history of battery and stalkin
g.

  We picked our way through the wreckage toward the waiting boat.

  The spire of Malek Tower rose above the Circuit’s skyscrapers, a beacon directing my gaze. Or a spear piercing the heavens. Regret, grief, and anger filled the emptiness in my chest.

  Damian Malek. The source of so much of my pain and anger, and yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

  I hadn’t seen Damian since the battle for Bentham. We’d only spoken once, and he’d made his desire for distance very clear. It was for the best—or at least that’s what I’d tried to tell myself. One thing was certain—our relationship would not end happily ever after because whatever he felt for me, his FireSoul cravings were, apparently, stronger.

  I couldn’t help but recall the fire in his eyes when he’d ripped the efreet’s magic from its corpse. That could be me.

  But somehow, I couldn’t reconcile that image with the man who’d saved my life, time and time again. Who’d idiotically thrown himself in harm’s way to protect me from the hydra.

  Rhia sighed audibly. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

  Nausea churned my stomach. “Is it really that obvious?”

  “Lately, yes. You’re like a freaking picture book when it comes to your emotions.”

  “Oh gods.” I frowned and rubbed my temples. I really did have to learn to rein in my emotions and my magic.

  “Let’s focus on the positives, though. One, you saved Magic Side and banished two lunatic genies. Two, you have a dragon familiar who is ridiculously cute and deadly.” She paused and scrunched her brows together and then smiled. “Oh yeah, and three. You’re a freaking full-blown djinn now. In my book, that makes you one badass bitch.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Rhia wasn’t the glass-half-full kinda girl, but the glass-is-overflowing-and-you-need-to-take-a-big-sip-from-the-edge-so-you-don’t-spill-it kind. She was my best friend, and we’d been through a lot together.

  While she might be right about a few things, I still couldn’t shake my anxiety. Becoming a full djinn had always been my biggest fear, and now that it had happened, I simultaneously loved and feared it. Having this much power was…well, there were no words to describe it.

  But, as my outburst moments ago had indicated, my new powers were volatile and deeply linked with my emotions. If I didn’t learn how to temper both, who knew what kind of destruction I might unleash.

  Memories of my old neighborhood forced their way into my thoughts. The ruined apartment, overturned cars, and wind-toppled trees.

  Much of the destruction had been the efreet’s fault, but much was also mine—collateral damage of my rage and single-minded desire to destroy him.

  But I’d done what I needed to save my city.

  Dread crept along my spine, but I forced a smile for Rhiannon. She’d carried me through a lot. “Yeah, well, I’m a badass bitch with a big fat target on my back.”

  And that was the truth. When I’d become a full djinn, I gained the power to grant wishes. But it meant that a powerful spellcaster could bind me to an enchanted object, like a lamp or a bottle, and force me to grant wishes against my will.

  I’d rather die than let that happen.

  Rhiannon shrugged. “True. Matthias is probably coming for you, but we’re going to be ready for the demon bastard. I’ll stop time. You punch him really hard in the face.”

  I snorted, unintentionally. There were benefits to having a friend who could manipulate time. And it would feel really good to cold-cock Matthias. The treacherous bastard was definitely coming for me. I was pretty sure he’d expected me to eventually turn into a full djinn, biding his time until he could trap me.

  Rhiannon shot me a furtive glance. “Have you spoken with Damian? Maybe he can help.”

  I tensed at the sound of his name. Fallen angel and FireSoul. A deep ache settled in my chest, right beside the mounting irritation.

  “We’ve only spoken once since we banished the marid. It was the shortest conversation of my life. Damian said he couldn’t control his FireSoul craving, and it was too dangerous to be around me. That was that. He hung up without listening to anything I had to say.” The words were like pouring acid into a wound.

  We’d been through hell together and, despite the lies and betrayal, he’d always had my back. The unfortunate truth was, we couldn’t be together because he craved my magic and might kill me for it—now more so than ever since, in order to save him, I’d had to become a full djinn.

  The irony of that stung.

  Rhia snorted. “Seriously? That guy needs a twelve-step program. FireSouls Anonymous. Hell, maybe the vampires have a program he could enroll in.”

  I choked out a half-hearted laugh and squeezed Rhia’s hand as we crossed the dock toward the waiting boat. “If only. But it’s better if he stays away. It’s what I want.”

  Lie.

  It may have been what my mind wanted, but my body definitely had other plans.

  In the end, it was his eyes that hooked me, deep green, like staring up through a forest of pines. His eyes, his signature, his whiskey voice. Actually, pretty much every part of him, if I were being honest.

  That night on the shore of Apollonia had felt so right, I couldn’t ignore it. He was the first thing on my mind when I woke each morning, and it took a long time to clear my head afterward. Usually in the shower.

  Traitorous thoughts.

  The fallen angel was trouble, and he knew it.

  Rhiannon cocked her brow at me. “Right. Well, in the meantime, let’s do some old-fashioned sleuthing. Where can we get answers about Matthias?”

  We climbed into the boat and took a seat near the bow. I raised my voice over the rumble of the engines. “I’ve been thinking about that—he’s damned good at covering his tracks. His house and possessions are currently burnt to a crisp, and forensics have gone over the rubble with a fine-toothed comb, but maybe you can use your power to look into the past?”

  Rhia cracked a wicked grin at me. “Abso-freakin-lutely.”

  Gods, I loved her. The fates may have cursed my chances with Damian, but at least I had Rhia. We’d been friends for a decade. More than friends—she was all the family I had.

  I’d accidently planes-walked away from my parents when I was a child. I’d never found my way back to them, and they’d never come for me.

  For a long time, I’d just assumed they were dead.

  That assumption had changed two and half weeks ago in the Realm of Air. The djinn that abducted Rhiannon said something that made me think they were still alive. He’d been taunting me, but there’d been a hint of truth in his words. I could feel it in my bones.

  I’d been doing my best not to think about it—trying not to get my hopes up. But maybe if we defeated Matthias, I could force the djinn to tell me where they were, or at least, what he knew.

  As the captain navigated the boat out of the anchorage, a second engine rumbled to life, breaking me out of my reverie.

  I looked back. A few hundred feet offshore, a gunboat wheeled around the side of the island and began following us. It was not unlike the one from the Dockside Dens that Lily DuVoir had arrived on a few days ago. I counted five guys in it, all dressed in black tactical gear.

  My heart had leapt for just a second, but it wasn’t Matthias. The bastard would have shown up from the skies with demons. Not in a boat with thugs.

  Irritation prickled my skin, and I glared at the captain. “When did they show up? And how come you didn’t tell us there was someone anchored out of sight?”

  The captain winced. “I heard them pull up about ten minutes ago. They were obscured by the prison walls. I initially assumed they were just tourists snapping some pictures of Bentham, but it doesn’t look like it. Should I call it in?”

  I blinked twice. Tourists my ass. Those guys were definitely following us, and I was pretty sure I knew who they worked for.

  “That bastard,” I murmured.

  2

  Neve

  Our boat
glided up to the docks in North Channel Harbor.

  I glared at the guys in the boat, which pulled up alongside the adjacent wharf. They were dressed in tactical pants and black shirts, and judging by the hints of pine and sweat, I’d bet they were shifters. Werewolves probably.

  “Some tourists, huh?” Rhia raised her brows at the captain.

  “Not my problem.” The captain shrugged as the deckhand grabbed hold of a cleat and inched the boat forward.

  “Typical.” Rhia let out an exasperated sigh and climbed onto the concrete wharf. I followed, still glaring as the stalkers secured their mooring lines and leapt out of the boat.

  “You two be careful, now,” the deckhand said as he pushed off the dock and the captain throttled the engine.

  “Let me guess. Damian’s thugs?” Rhiannon said, glancing back at the stalkers as we marched across the docks.

  “No doubt,” I said bitterly, pulling out my phone and dialing him.

  I was pretty sure he’d hired a security team to follow me around the city. I’d caught a whiff of them last night but thought we’d lost them.

  Yet here they were.

  Damian’s phone rang twice and then went straight to voicemail. Did he just screen my call?

  The complete and utter ass.

  I typed out a text and hit send: Call off your goons.

  The message went through, and my adrenaline spiked when I noticed the three dots moving beneath his name. The bastard was writing back.

  Not a chance. Matthias and his genies are hunting you. You need protection.