Line of Fyre

by Cara Bristol

  “Yes, it is. He’s a very dangerous man. Patsy worked for him all along.”

  “Goddammit!” Her father slammed his fist on the table. “I’ll never forgive myself. This is all my fault.”

  Daughterly love urged her to leap to his defense, to soothe his guilt, but the realist held her tongue. He was responsible. He’d invited Biggs into his administration, kept him there, and followed his direction.

  “I didn’t always approve of Biggs’ actions, and I noticed worrisome signs, but then we were on the brink of war, and seemingly more critical matters demanded my attention. I didn’t realize he posed the greatest danger,” he said.

  “Biggs created the problem. He drove us to the brink of war, Dad,” she said. “One incremental step at a time. Because of him, you kept sending more and more colonists to Elementa, antagonizing the Draconians. We stole their planet. Instead of backing off, you tried to assassinate their king. He got your buy-in, convinced you to go along with it.” It pained her to add to his guilt, but facing the truth without illusions or excuses had to be done if they were to achieve peace.

  “I have a lot to answer for. I intend to make it right. You’ve had an opportunity to get to know the Draconians. Do we have any allies there? Biggs insisted the king was against us.”

  “The king is not our best ally, but he listens to the priestess, who has reasons to avoid destroying Earth. T’mar and Prince K’ev are willing to talk, but the first move, a show of goodwill, needs to come from us.

  “Withdraw from Elementa. It shouldn’t be too hard to put the colonists on a ship and bring them home. I mean, how many are there? Four, five hundred, maybe? Leave the equipment, leave the habitat, just leave.”

  Her father sighed. “More like five thousand. And, they’re not all ours.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The colony you’re familiar with isn’t the only one. News of the metals and minerals leaked, and three other nations and two private corporations established colonies, too. Even if we leave, the others still will remain. They’ll have access to the resources to develop superior weapons and stealth technology.”

  “So, you won’t pull out of Elementa?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He rubbed his jaw. “Just that withdrawal is no simple exercise. National security is at stake.”

  “It’s always been at stake!” Nobody could survive an attack by the Draconians. She feared the king could be pushed only so far. The priestess had unrivaled and unknown powers, but the king had total control with secular matters, T’mar had explained to her. “You have to remove our colonies then open a dialogue with the other nations. Get them to see the import.”

  “I’ll give this some serious consideration. Let me confer with the National Security Council and the State Department.”

  “All right,” she agreed. As much as she would prefer a quick and definitive resolution, it would mean circumventing the legal process—which was how Biggs had operated. She had to allow her father to follow the law, even if it took longer.

  “What’s going to happen to Biggs?” she asked.

  “There will be a full investigation, which I’m certain will lead to a trial on felony charges for which he’ll be convicted and imprisoned for the rest of his life. He won’t be able to threaten you or anyone else ever again.” He paused. “Sweetheart, I have to ask, are you really happy? If you want to come home, I’ll do whatever it takes to bring you here.”

  T’mar? she called.

  I’m here, mate.

  Why don’t you come back in? Chat a little with my father.

  “I am very happy, Dad.” When she thought he could handle it, she would tell him the whole truth about her heritage. For now, he needed get to know the Draconians better, beginning with his dragon-in-law.

  T’mar entered the communications center.

  “You’d better make my daughter happy,” her father said.

  “That’s my life’s goal. Each day I live belongs to her.”

  She linked her arm through T’mar’s and smiled up at him, letting her love shine. She heard the dragon purr.

  Her father cleared his throat.

  “Perhaps we should meet in person.” T’mar glanced from her to the screen. “Perhaps my mate would care to take a trip back to Earth?”

  “Can we do that?” she asked.

  “That would be up to your father,” T’mar said.

  “Tell me when, and I’ll arrange everything on this end,” her father said.

  Her mind tumbled with hopeful possibilities. While her father worked on getting the colonists off Elementa, she and T’mar could help to change minds and attitudes. Her mate and her father could meet in person. She and T’mar could convene with heads of state and the CEOs of the companies who’d sent colonists to Elementa. Maybe Rhianna and K’ev would accompany them. A goodwill ambassadorial tour redux might help chip away at some of the fear and prejudice. And maybe an opportunity would present itself for her and Rhianna to reveal their genetic heritage and inform the world of the shared history between humans and dragons.

  There were no guarantees of success, but they were stepping in the right direction. She hooked her arm in T’mar’s. “Let’s do it.”

  * * * *

  Marshfield had no idea who he was fucking with. Biggs schooled his features, masking his rage. Secret Services officers Laramie and Hernandez frisked and cuffed him then hustled him out of the war room through Bunker One.

  They boarded an elevator, Hernandez pressed the button for the lowest floor, and they descended deep into underground bivouac. They exited to a corridor of steel and cement. There were no tapestries, marble-tiled floors, plush carpets, or elegant sconces. Just harsh-buzzing fluorescents, metal conduits, and a faint smell of mildew. Their footsteps echoed in the emptiness.

  They arrived at a T, and the officers nudged him to the left and then stopped at a solid steel door. Hernandez opened it by pressing his hand to the reader, and they ushered him inside. “This way,” he said and walked him about halfway down the short row of vacant cells.

  “Apparently I’m sole guest at Hotel Marshfield,” Biggs commented.

  Laramie opened the cell. They’d already checked him for weapons, but Hernandez frisked him again and then uncuffed him while Laramie stood back with his weapon trained. Biggs entered the cell then turned to face the officers. His gaze met Laramie’s.

  Hernandez moved to lock him in.

  Laramie stepped up behind his fellow officer, pressed his weapon to his temple, and fired. Pop! A silencer suppressed the report. Hernandez’s body dropped like a stone.

  Biggs stepped out and collected the fallen officer’s weapon.

  Laramie dragged the body into the cell then exited. His gaze shot to a red eye high up on the wall. “What about the cameras?”

  “I’ve taken care of it,” he said, masking his disgust. Now the officer thought of the cameras? “I had it switched from live feed to a loop of yesterday’s recording.”

  “Good thinking.” The officer handed him a thin packet of documents. “Your boarding pass and ID. You’re cutting it close. The ship for Elementa leaves in ninety minutes.”

  “I’ll make it.” He’d arranged for a police escort to clear a path through the traffic. When Patsy Winslow had failed to check in, he’d surmised there’d been a problem and taken some preliminary steps. As soon as he’d gotten word the very alive Helena was hailing the president, he’d finalized the arrangements.

  He motioned with his head at the body. “What are you going to do with that?”

  “After maintenance leaves tonight, I’ll put him in the incinerator. He can stay in the cell until then. As you can see, nobody is here, and with the cameras on a loop, he could be here two weeks or more before anybody finds him.”

  “Perfect,” Biggs said. “Better shut the door.”

  “You think he’s going to walk out?” Laramie said but turned to lock the cell.


  Biggs fired a bullet into the back of his head.

  The fewer witnesses, the better. He collected Laramie’s weapon and the ammo from both men and then strode to a computer station. Signing on as the director of the unit, he placed both men on vacation for the next two weeks. He logged off and exited the brig.

  He had a spacecraft to catch.

  * * * *

  Thank you for reading Line of Fyre (Alien Dragon Shifters 2). As you probably guessed, there will be a book three! You’ll read what happens to O’ne the priestess and Henry—and Biggs. To find out when Alien Dragon Shifters 3 is published, sign up to receive my newsletter. You’ll receive a free book to read now, and you’ll be notified of all future releases and book deals. Sign up here: http://carabristol.com/get-your-free-book/

  If you missed book one of the series, Under Fyre, (K’ev and Rhianna’s story), read on for an excerpt.

  * * * *

  Under Fyre (Alien Dragon Shifters 1)

  Chapter One

  “Take a human? As a mate?” K’ev had guessed the news wouldn’t be good when his father, King K’rah, had summoned him, but he hadn’t expected it to be this bad. Humans were so…human.

  An image of a fearless child with ice-blue eyes and hair blazing like the sacred flame in the Temple of the Eternal Fyre flickered in his mind’s eye. When other children had fled in terror, she’d held her ground. Due to short lifespans, humans quickly matured into adulthood. The girl child would be a woman now. What would she look like? Did her hair still blaze? Were her eyes still as clear as ice floes? Had she grown into the perfidy so second nature to her race?

  It didn’t matter what had happened to her. She meant nothing to him. He doused the image.

  “Not a mate,” the king corrected. “Dragons and humans can’t mate. Humans have no fyre. Taking one as a consort, however, is a different matter.”

  “Why me?”

  “You’re the one most familiar with humans. You have studied them, and you’re the only member of the royal family to have visited Earth.”

  “Because you ordered it,” K’ev said. Fifteen years ago, relations with Earth had been cautiously amicable. He hadn’t wanted to go to Earth at all, and visiting had cemented his unfavorable opinion. With the exception of the little girl, he hadn’t met a single human he’d liked. But, as much as they repelled him, they fascinated him in the way a catastrophe attracted onlookers, so he’d eavesdropped on their electronic signals to learn about their culture. If he’d realized his curiosity would lead to this…

  The king grimaced and leaned back in his throne. “I don’t like it any better than you do, but it has been suggested a more intimate, personal relationship between a member of the royal family and a human might foster detente between Draco and Earth and restore an alliance.”

  It wasn’t like the king to retreat from a course of action he’d set. After discovering signs of mining operations on Elementa, Draco had severed relations with the blue planet and placed them on notice that any further incursion would result in decisive consequences.

  “Who suggested it?” K’ev asked, racking his brain to figure out which advisor could have been so bold—and misguided.

  “What is done is done.”

  “Why seek an alliance at all?” he persisted, trying to wiggle out of the inevitable. “They are thieves and liars. You can’t trust anything they say.” It was almost impossible to fool a dragon. Deceit had a strong, distinctive odor. Most humans stank, period. Bring one into his personal space? He shuddered, and his dragon growled.

  “They will not be stealing from us anymore.” His father’s eyes flashed. “I want this matter settled. As much as I personally prefer a decisive outcome, the truth is, war would be a distraction from the critical problem facing us.”

  Their home world was dying. Geologists had forecast in a mere thousand years Draco’s molten core would cool beyond an ability to sustain life. Draconians had been searching for a new homeland for eons without success until discovering Elementa a few years ago. Dragons required heat and fire to thrive, and most planets in the habitable zone were too cool. On his tour of Earth during its “hot” season, K’ev had damn near frozen to death.

  Elementa was very similar to what Draco used to be, with hundreds of thousands of active volcanoes, underground magma pools, and lava rivers winding over the surface. Draconian scientists had been monitoring the planet’s geology to verify its suitability as a replacement homeland.

  And then a recent scan detected mining operations.

  “You’re certain Earth removed the metals?” K’ev didn’t doubt it, but he thought he’d better ask.

  “Our flag disappeared, and we found one of theirs.”

  His dragon roared in outrage. Staking a flag was the first step in galactic protocol to claim ownership of a planet. “Why are they doing this? They can’t inhabit it. Elementa’s atmosphere is toxic to them.”

  “Obviously, they desire the precious metals.”

  While Elementa’s wealth of natural resources had immense value, nothing mattered more than life. They needed the planet if they were going to survive—which made the change of direction incomprehensible. Dragons didn’t ask or coax, and they never surrendered. While the passage of time had tempered their aggression somewhat, they remained warriors born of the sacred fyre. They fought. They claimed what was rightfully theirs without apology.

  They didn’t instigate conflicts, but they finished them the Draconian way.

  K’ev disliked humans; his father despised them. Nothing in the years since K’ev’s visit had given them reason to revise their opinions. Rather than confront directly and honestly, humans lied and sneaked and plotted. They would kill while smiling. They weren’t even intelligent. Technologically, they’d advanced little beyond infancy. If Draco hadn’t pointed out the fold in space giving them a shortcut to the rest of the galaxy, they still would have been wandering around their solar system, searching for life in the rocks on Mars.

  “We will try this,” his father said. “The humans have one last chance to repair the broken trust. The president of one of their nations has agreed to send his daughter to become your consort.”

  “I doubt they’re doing this to make amends. They have some ulterior motive.”

  “Of course they do. As do I. You know the old saying, ‘It is better to have an enemy inside the hall breathing fire out, than outside breathing fire in’? The president’s daughter is one of his closest advisors. I believe we could use her.”

  “Use me, you mean,” he said.

  His father’s neck frill flared. “Remember who you’re speaking to. You are my son, the fifth child of my beloved mate, but I am the king, and you serve me. I do not serve you.”

  “My apologies, Your Majesty.” He bowed his head. No one defied the monarch and lived, which indicated the incongruity of the decision. Draco wasn’t the offender. Earth was. No conciliation on Draco’s part was required. They should swoop in and eliminate the problem.

  Big ice-blue eyes. Hair like a flame. That smile. The child, now a woman, would die if Draco settled the problem the way they should.

  “Of course I will do whatever you command.” Why me? Why now? Although five siblings had mated and had produced eighteen granddragons among them, his youngest brother was unmated and had no regular consort, either. And while his oldest brother, T’mar, had taken three dragonesses as concubines, what was one more added to the harem? Why not one of them?

  “You are unmated and directionless.” Sometimes K’ev feared his father could read his thoughts. The king had been chosen by the priestess of the Eternal Fyre. Who knew the power she had conferred upon the monarch when she crowned him? “You lack a consort of any consequence or longevity. Your relationships have been meaningless, short-term dalliances.” His lip curled with disapproval.

  In truth, K’ev hadn’t found a woman who could hold his attention for long, so, until his fyre chose his mate, he wished to rem
ain free to do as he pleased.

  “Since the president’s daughter is only a consort, you can still take other concubines,” he said in a softer voice. “They will betray their motives soon, and the arrangement will be annulled. Worst-case scenario—it will last only the length of the human lifespan, so you won’t be bound to her forever.”

  “How old is she now?” Humans lived to be about eighty, one hundred max.

  “Twenty? Thirty?” The king shrugged.

  Fifty to sixty years out of eternity amounted to a mere blip until you were the one tied to an unwanted, perfidious, malodorous human. Then it seemed like forever. Two hundred fifteen years old, K’ev would still be young when this ordeal ended, but that afforded little consolation.

  The urge to shift burgeoned. Talons extended from his fingertips, and he had to forcibly retract them. His tail twitched with the tension coiling inside. “What happens if I join with her and then meet my mate?”

  Arising out of affection, friendship, simple lust, or, in this case, an interplanetary treaty, a consort relationship was, at best, a tepid one. A mating? The red-hot, consuming, possessive bond united two fyres into one flame. If he encountered his mate, all others would cease to exist for him. Nothing was stronger or more revered than a mating bond. If he mated, what would happen to the precious treaty?

  “Given how many females you have…sampled without finding a suitable mate, the likelihood of that happening in the near future is remote, but if it occurred, it would nullify the treaty, and the consort would return to her planet.”

  How many females he’d sampled? Had his father been keeping track? K’ev frowned. There hadn’t been that many.

  It was said when a dragon found his mate, a second without her became an eternity. A second with a human would be an eternity. Red hair and bold blue eyes as deep as infinity itself flashed. He blocked the image from his consciousness and focused on his father’s voice.

  “In the event of a mating, rightful termination of the consort relationship has been written into the contract. Earth was advised of the possibility—but informed it was highly unlikely.”