by Lola Gabriel
“The dragons might be relatively dormant, or at least not brazen with what they’re doing, but they are still evil. This world won’t be safe with them in it.”
“Who have you been talking to?” Scarlet demanded, a prickle of apprehension touching the base of her neck. She’d heard rhetoric like this before, just not from Beatrice. This is coven speak. Mom used to go off like this when she was alive.
The hairs on Scarlet’s neck rose as she peered at her sister.
“No one!” Beatrice retorted sharply. “I’m just saying.”
“It sounds like you’re preaching,” Scarlet corrected. “The dragons haven’t been a threat to us or anyone else in a thousand years.”
Beatrice’s mouth firmed, lines creasing around her eyes, but she didn’t comment. Instead, the younger twin turned her back on Scarlet and pretended to busy herself at the stove.
“So what did Oliver say?” Scarlet sighed, hoping to change the subject to something lighter.
“What?”
“Oliver. What did he want?” Beatrice cast Scarlet a confused look over her shoulder.
“Oliver?” she echoed, and the pang of worry in Scarlet blossomed into full-fledged panic. Her twin was lying to her. But why?
“Yes,” Scarlet said quietly. “Isn’t that who you said you were talking to?”
Understanding flooded Beatrice’s face, and she laughed shortly.
“Oh, yeah!” she muttered. “Of course. Oliver. Um… he just wanted something for Saturday.”
“I thought you said Friday.”
“Right. Friday.” Beatrice scowled. “Forgive me for getting confused. I’ve had a lot on my plate these days, since you’re not helping while you chase after that piece of crap, Cal.”
“I’m here now,” Scarlet replied lightly, but her mind was racing. Something was going on that she didn’t understand, and Beatrice was taking great pains to make sure she didn’t find out about it. It was something to do with this Mara. What were she and Beatrice planning?
Scarlet wracked her mind to remember who Mara was. It seemed to her that she’d met the black-haired woman once in passing, but Scarlet hadn’t paid her much mind. Suddenly, she wished she had. They sounded like they were up to no good.
“Are you going to deal with the shepherd’s pie or what?” Beatrice snapped at her. Scarlet didn’t answer, her eyes fixed on her sister for a long while. Beatrice refused to meet her eyes.
Never mind Beatrice right now, she told herself, despite the slight hurt she was feeling about being lied to. You’ve got enough problems of your own without involving yourself in your sister’s affairs. Everyone is entitled to a private life—even if it took Beatrice twenty-three years to want one.
But as she finished chopping the potatoes to place in the boiling water, Scarlet couldn’t help feeling that she was about to be unwittingly dragged into something in which she had no interest.
3
Bran woke Theo the following morning by throwing open the door to his suite and storming in, unannounced. The door slammed loudly against the wall with Bran’s unceremonious entrance, causing Theo to groan in protest.
“Are you seriously still sleeping?” his cousin demanded. “Your father will lose his mind if he finds you in here!” Sleepily, Theo blinked and stared at Bran balefully.
“What time is it?” he growled, the sheet falling away from his toned chest to display the tribal tattoo inked across his right shoulder.
“Seven!” Bran cried, hurrying further into the chambers as though he did not fear for his own safety. “And Bruno is still not healed.”
That information was enough to cause Theo to perk up with worry.
“What do you mean?” he asked, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “Is Eden not with him?”
“She is,” Bran replied. “But he’s not fully recovered yet.”
“Dammit,” Theo muttered, reaching for a shirt and pants before stalking out the door past Bran.
“Where are you going?” Bran called, running after him.
“To see Bruno, obviously.”
“I don’t think your sister wants to be disturbed.”
Theo didn’t care. He needed Bruno for the festivities that day. If he wasn’t recovered, Theo would have to step in, and that was not something he was looking forward to. He was a warrior, not a circus act to be put on display while the unsuspecting mortals laughed and cheered.
If Bruno is not well enough, he thought, I should have Father step in, since he is the one who insists on this ridiculousness. Of course, Theo would never ask Carlyle to do such a thing, tempting as it might be.
He made his way to the ground floor and through the back halls of the estate toward the sickbay, where he found Eden sitting at Bruno’s side. His sister looked as rough as Bruno, who lay, still asleep.
“Why isn’t he healing?” Theo asked without preamble.
“And good morning to you too, brother,” Eden retorted. Theo gave her an icy smile.
“Forgive me, but pleasantries are the last thing on my mind right now.” Eden nodded.
“He’s got brimstone in his wounds,” she said. “I can’t touch him, so I’m doing my best, working around the wound. Obviously, it would help if I could get in there and cleanse it, but I can’t—”
“No! Don’t. Let it run its course through his body.” Theo sighed deeply, troubled about what was happening.
How could someone sneak onto the estate with brimstone when the area is overwrought with dragons? That would be a very brazen and somewhat stupid move. Clearly whoever had done it had either little to lose or the disposition of a god.
“How much longer until he’s up?” Theo wanted to know. “Hours? Days?”
Eden shrugged. “At this rate, he’ll be on his feet tomorrow, but he’ll need at least another day to recover before he’s back in the arena.”
“Dammit!” Theo cursed. Eden eyed him apologetically.
“Sorry, brother. I did all I could, but you will not find a healer on the planet who can do more. I suppose we could find a mortal to clean the wound, but that would rouse a lot of unnecessary questions.”
“No. Not in this case. Bruno will heal, even if it takes time. There is no reason to bring in mortals for something like this.”
“Sorry, Theo.”
“It’s not your doing, Eden,” Theo told her, shaking his head. “Just stay with him.”
“Any idea how this happened?” Eden asked as he turned to leave, and Theo’s jaw clenched. He had no idea, none whatsoever, and that was only another problem he was going to need to address. It was obviously a message of sorts… but what was the message?
“I need to speak with Father,” Theo realized, and Eden grimaced.
“Go with the gods,” she chuckled. Theo couldn’t manage a smile. The matter was grave, after all. Or so they would have us believe. Perhaps it was a silly prank that got out of hand.
“Theo, we don’t have time to waste,” Bran reminded him, almost running at his side. “We must be at the park to set up.”
“You go and set up,” Theo instructed him, but Bran shook his head vehemently.
“I can’t go without you,” the younger dragon insisted. “The warriors won’t listen to me.”
Theo admitted his cousin had a valid point. Still, he wanted to speak with his father about this perceived threat. He had a feeling that Carlyle knew more about what was going on than he was letting on.
“Your father may already be at the park,” Bran mentioned, as if reading Theo’s mind.
I doubt it, Theo thought, but he knew there was no point in going back and forth with Bran. Above all, his duty was to ensure the cursed weekend went perfectly. He assumed that his father was being diligent about securing the area for signs of trouble. I just have to do my job, and everything will go off without a hitch.
He thought about Bruno, wounded and unconscious, and realized that ship had already sailed.
“Theo?”
“Yes,” Theo
grumbled. “Let us get to the park.”
To Theo’s chagrin, Sebastian was already at the park when they arrived, giving direction to his warriors.
“What are you doing here, Bash?” Theo questioned, unable to keep the resentment out of his voice.
“Good morning to you also, Theo,” his brother replied, arching an eyebrow. “How are you this fine day?”
“Seriously, what are you doing here?” Theo asked again, not in the mood to get into a battle with him. “Haven’t you other matters to attend without overseeing mine?” Sebastian grunted.
“One day, Theo,” he said, “you will realize that I am not out to infringe in your life. I merely came at Father’s request. He thought you might need a hand, given Bruno’s incapacity.”
“He thought wrong,” Theo snapped shortly. “I have this under control, as I have in the past.”
“In the past, there has not been a van-guardsman suffering from a brimstone-induced injury,” Sebastian reminded him, and Theo bristled.
You had the opportunity to lead the weyr, and you gave it up. You don’t get to reclaim it now, Theo thought angrily.
“As I said,” he snarled from between clenched teeth, “I am quite well. Thank you.” The brothers held each other’s gazes for a long moment before Sebastian grinned lazily and looked away.
“All right,” he agreed, nodding toward Bran. “Good to see you, cousin.”
Bran grinned. “You too. Will you fight today, Bash?”
“No!” Theo interjected, and they both looked at him in surprise. “I mean…” He inhaled and gathered his composure. “I mean, all the matches are already scheduled,” Theo explained quickly. “They’ve been booked for months.”
“It’s all right, Theo,” Sebastian chuckled, winking in his usual condescending way. “I would not want to take away from your glory.”
“Glory?” Bran snorted. “He doesn’t want to fight.”
“I do!” Theo snapped, glaring at Bran. “Of course I do.”
“Well, I look forward to seeing your match,” Sebastian said. “If you are sure you do not need me, I have other matters to attend to.”
“I don’t,” Theo said with a firmness that cut.
“Very well. I shall see you later.” Sebastian disappeared through the bustle of tents, setting up for the day.
“He has a lot of nerve coming here, doesn’t he?” Theo muttered, more to himself than his cousin. Bran, however, only had stars in his eyes for Sebastian.
“I think it was kind of him to offer his assistance. He is quite busy.”
“Or so he would like us to believe,” Theo retorted with some venom, but he steeled himself from getting angry. The minor feud between the brothers had been going on for centuries. It was time to shake off the irritation that Sebastian’s mere presence seemed to bring out in him every time they were together.
He claims he doesn’t want control of the weyr, and yet here he is, trying to upstage me. He has no business coming here, even under the guise of Father’s orders. Theo felt his head begin to pound. The gates had not opened, and he was already getting a migraine.
“Pardon me.”
He turned at the sound of a woman’s voice, his golden eyes resting on a shockingly lovely face. She was a small, waif-like creature with porcelain skin and deep auburn hair, outlining a heart-shaped face. Her eyes were a guileless blue, clear and filled with unmistakable mischief.
“You are Mr. Tallant, aren’t you?” she went on, meeting his gaze fully. She did not flinch under his intense stare.
Theo nodded, not entirely trusting his voice as he continued to gaze at her. There was a welling inside him he could not suppress; a heady, intoxicating feeling which he had never known before. And yet he knew precisely what it was, without explanation.
“I’m with Gale Catering,” the woman explained. “I was just wondering where we should be setting up.”
Theo blinked, clearing his throat when their eyes locked, and he felt a flush of heat course through him as he studied her.
“Oh. Uh…” Reluctantly, Theo pulled his eyes up and looked around. “You are quite early. The gates will not be opening for a while.”
She offered him a half-smile.
“Better early than late, right? Anyway, there is a lot of food prep that needs to be done here,” she said, and Theo returned her smile. “You’d be surprised how much of a hassle it is.”
“I suppose you’re right. I just worry you’ll be standing about twiddling your thumbs,” he replied.
“We’ll manage to keep ourselves entertained,” she giggled, and Theo realized that she was looking at him with as much interest as he was her.
“I am Theo Tallant,” he told her, extending a hand. Instantly, she took his outstretched palm and nodded, lowering her gaze.
“Yes,” she murmured. “I know.”
“That doesn’t seem fair somehow,” he said, squeezing the soft skin of her hand gently.
“What’s that?”
“You know who I am, but I do not know you.”
“Oh!” She laughed. “I’m Scarlet. Scarlet Gale.”
“Owner of Gale Catering, I presume?” he teased, not releasing her hand.
“That is an astute observation, Mr. Tallant.”
“Please,” Theo said. “Call me Theo.”
“Theo.” He took some pleasure in the way his name rolled off her lips, his eyes darting lower to admire the curve of her mouth. With some reluctance, Scarlet disentangled her hand from his and looked over her shoulder. “I should be getting back,” she said, but she didn’t move.
“I hope to see you around the Festival,” Theo commented, and he realized just how much he meant it when he said it. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight at that moment.
“I’ll save a bowl of stew for you,” Scarlet said, casting him a look back as she moved away. Suddenly, though, she froze and whirled back around. “You never told me where we should be,” she reminded him, making Theo snort.
“Right.” His eyes darted around the area, looking for a place for the catering truck, and he nodded in the direction of the first erected tent. “I think that’s it over there.” Scarlet turned and looked where he gestured.
“Perfect,” she said. “We can watch the fights from here… if I crane.” Theo’s eyes widened with a slight amusement.
“Do you enjoy the fights?” he asked, and she nodded eagerly.
“Ever since I was a little girl. My father used to bring me and my sister to the Festival every year, even though my mother hated it.”
“How does one hate a festival?” Theo mused aloud, and Scarlet smirked slightly.
“She was… superstitious,” she explained softly. Theo’s smile faded slightly when he looked at her.
“Was?”
Scarlet cleared her throat and stepped back as though she was embarrassed at saying too much.
“Thank you for your help… Theo,” she murmured, pivoting and leaving before he could say anything else.
“She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she?” Bran commented, and Theo started slightly at the sound of his voice. He had forgotten that his cousin stood nearby, watching the entire exchange.
“She is,” Theo agreed gruffly, a pang of annoyance touching him. He didn’t want Bran or anyone else looking at Scarlet Gale. He had no doubt in his mind that he had just met his mate, and he couldn’t bear the idea of letting her out of his sight.
“I can’t say I’ve seen her around,” Bran continued. “I wonder if she’s new in town.”
“You wonder too much,” Theo barked at him. “And we have work to do.”
Bran cast him a look of surprise. “I’m just saying—”
“Say less and do more,” Theo interjected, nodding toward the warriors. “Help them set up the arena.”
“Where are you going?” Bran protested. “You sent Bash away. You can’t leave me to do it alone!”
Theo smothered a groan as he questioned how anyone got anything done without hi
m.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he vowed, dashing off in the direction Scarlet had gone. He heard Bran calling out after him, but Theo ignored him. Now, where did she go?
Suddenly, his eyes fell on her as she poked her head out the back of a white van with a pink logo on the side, and he moved to join her.
“Did I scare you off?” he asked as he neared. Scarlet raised her head and peered at him skeptically, a scowl falling on her face.
“Pardon me?” she snapped, any trace of her earlier warmth gone.
“I am just wondering if I offended you a minute ago.”
Her eyes were slits.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Tallant?” she hissed in a tone so cold, he almost got frostbite.
He blinked, confused at her sudden change. She had certainly done a one-eighty in personality.
“Theo, remember?” he prompted, maintaining the smile on his face. “I didn’t mean to send you running by asking too personal a question.” She turned her back and continued hauling trays out of the van. “Can I help you?” Theo asked, shuffling forward. To his shock, she whirled and almost snarled at him.
“No, thank you!” she spat. “Please just go so I can get on with my day.” Consternation flooded him, and he stood, dazed for a second by her response to him. “Is there another matter, Mr. Tallant?”
“No,” he muttered, backing away from the woman. What the hell changed in two minutes? he wondered, shaking his head. She’s like another person.
Surely the mere question about her mother hadn’t set her off, had it? It was impossible to know, and he had little choice but to oblige her request amidst his confusion. Slowly, he retreated back to where Bran was barking out orders to the unheeding warriors. His cousin’s face almost crumbled with relief when he saw Theo.
“Are you all done chasing the skirt?” Bran teased, but Theo didn’t smile.
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I guess I am.”
After all, he was Theo Tallant. He didn’t need to chase after any woman.
No matter how much you might want to.
