High House Draconis Box Set

by Riley Storm

  Why was he doing this?

  Victor had so many questions. Questions that he didn’t have answers for. Not even suggestions about answers. He’d leapt so quickly to stop Cheryl from doing something stupid, knowing how important it was to keep their secret contained, that he hadn’t even stopped to consider how he was going to explain everything to her.

  Damn you, Aaric.

  The fire dragon had ordered him to go and deal with her, but in a way that, to Victor’s brain at the time at least, had seemed like he was supposed to tell her their secret, to show her the truth so that she could understand.

  But why would he show some random human? What did she need to know about dragons? There was simply no rationale behind it, and without the other dragon around, he couldn’t ask him either.

  What if he meant to silence Cheryl, instead of reveal everything to her?

  Victor snorted and shook his head. There was no possible way that was what Aaric had meant. The fire dragon simply cherished humans too much to give such an order, and certainly not so cavalier as he had. No, Aaric wanted him to show Cheryl the truth.

  But why?

  “Something funny over there?”

  He looked to his right sharply, having forgotten in his thoughts that Cheryl was still standing across from him while he waited on her answer.

  “More than you can ever imagine,” he said wryly, declining to elaborate when she lifted her eyebrows in question.

  “Fine, be all mysterious then,” she said.

  The mood had lightened again as Cheryl avoiding giving him a straight answer, but truthfully, Victor was okay with that. The longer she stalled, the longer he had to come up with a solution to everything.

  “What reason do I have to trust you, Victor? We’ve been at each other’s throats every step of the way, ever since you took over the Outreach Center from Aaric. I know what I saw in there, I know I wasn’t hallucinating either. That I’m not on any drugs.”

  He remained stoic, quiet, unanswering. To even confirm she had seen what she saw would tell her that she had seen it. He couldn’t do that. Not here, not now. Cheryl either came into the fold entirely, or not at all. There was no middle ground, no hesitation allowed. All or nothing.

  Cheryl waited, and waited, finally crossing her arms in obvious impatience. “You’re not providing much of an argument in your favor here.”

  “I don’t have to,” he said, dulling the edge of his words as much as possible. “Either you want to know what I have to say, or you don’t. Either is fine.”

  “And if I don’t?” she asked cautiously.

  “Then either we pretend it never happened, or you go tell people what you think you saw, and people call you crazy for it. You lose your job, become shunned from society, and quite possibly spiral down a very dark hole.” He shrugged. “I’d rather that not be the way things go, but this is your choice, Cheryl, not mine, and I won’t influence it one way or the other.”

  “Christ, you really do paint a dark picture there.”

  “I’m not here to sugar-coat anything for you. You’re an adult, you can make your own decisions.”

  “And if I decide I want to know, I have to give up my world,” she said, repeating his words. “Will I be able to live normally?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to hurt me?”

  Victor frowned. “What? Of course not!”

  “Where do I have to go to find out?” she asked.

  “To my House,” he said, wondering if she’d understand the implications. Probably not.

  “Which is where?”

  “Not in town,” he answered, growing tired of being interrogated, though he knew they were all valid questions.

  Cheryl shifted uncomfortably as she prepared to ask her next question. “Will I be allowed to come back?”

  “That depends on how you process what I will tell you,” he answered, meeting her eyes and staring into them, not flinching away as he told the truth.

  “You sure do know how to build suspense,” she said, trying to force a laugh. “So if I can’t accept whatever this big secret is, you what, snap my neck and drop me into a pit somewhere?”

  Victor’s jaw dropped open. “What the hell do you take me for? Some sort of evil villain? I’m not a murderer! No, we would just forcefully confine you to the property. You would live a luxurious, but private, existence. That is all.”

  “We?” Cheryl asked, latching on to his slip of the tongue. “Who else is there?”

  But this time, he remained silent. He was risking giving too much away already.

  “The time for questions is over,” he told her, searching her almond eyes for any clue as to which way she was leading. “The time for decisions, is now.”

  Cheryl rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly at his heavy words, sending her platinum-blonde hair swishing back and forth in the long ponytail that she always seemed to wear.

  “The time for decisions is now,” she mocked in a higher-pitched voice, turning side-on to him while she watched the patrons and employees flow back into Leblanc.

  “You can either go tell them what you saw,” he said, pivoting on one heel. “Or you can come find out the truth.”

  With that, he walked away, making a quick detour to the valet dropoff to retrieve his keys before heading out into the parking lot to retrieve his vehicle.

  Cheryl didn’t move, staying rooted to the spot, obviously lost deep in thought and trying to decide on what to do.

  Victor pulled open the door to his SUV and climbed in. A big truck blocked his view of the rest of the parking lot, but there was no sign of Cheryl.

  Oddly, that brought feelings of sadness and disappointment to the fore. He frowned.

  Was I really wanting her to come that badly?

  The answering emotions, from his mind and his dragon, seemed to be a resounding Yes!

  Why? Why did he care what she did? There was a piece of the puzzle missing here, something he couldn’t put together. Victor felt blind, grasping in the dark for the explanation to his feelings that continued to elude him.

  A knock at the passenger window startled him back to reality. He glanced over to see Cheryl standing there, knocking with one hand, pointing at the door handle in irritation with the other.

  He scrambled for the unlock button, managing to lower three windows and re-lock all the doors first as he fumbled to punch it in properly.

  “You okay in here?” she asked, pulling the door open enough so that she could see him, though she didn’t get in.

  “Yup. Just fine,” he said tightly, fighting back the embarrassment that he knew was filling his cheeks.

  “Alright. Let’s go then,” she said quietly, and got into the car.

  Victor nodded, waiting until she was buckled in before he put it into gear. They pulled out onto the road, neither speaking, which was perfect because he needed the time to think.

  Great. You got her to come along, to trust you enough to learn your secret. Good job.

  But what the heck are you going to do now?

  Chapter 19

  “You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t live nearby,” Cheryl said as they rounded yet another corner.

  “Are you not enjoying the drive?” he asked, waving with one hand at the multi-colored hue of fall leaves on the trees and swirling across the road.

  The reds, yellows and oranges created a beautiful rainbow-like hue as the SUV sped along, blurring together out the side windows. She could see that, knew it was beautiful, but her attention couldn’t stay focused on it for long enough to become lost in the drive like she usually would.

  “I’m too nervous to watch,” Cheryl admitted. “The tension is killing me. I must be insane for getting into this car with you.”

  “Curiosity is a powerful motivator,” he said. “I understand, having done similar things that make me think I was stupid.”

  “Like what?”

  “Trusting a witch,” he muttered tightly.

>   She could see him struggling to contain his emotions as he spoke. For the most part, Victor had succeeded, but she could hear just a hint of something like hurt, or maybe embarrassment. It was tough to tell, and Cheryl wasn’t going to pry. Her focus was on something else anyway.

  “A witch?” she asked cautiously, wanting to make sure she’d heard right.

  Victor just looked up and smiled a knowing smile at her. But he didn’t say anything.

  “You at least know that you’re absolutely infuriating when you do that, right? You’re aware of it?”

  He shrugged. “We’re almost there.”

  “Almost where, Victor? There’s nothing out here!” she complained.

  That couldn’t be true of course. There wouldn’t be a road to nowhere. But that didn’t help ease her nerves. This was perhaps the riskiest, stupidest thing Cheryl had ever done.

  “Home,” he said quietly, as the spacious SUV slowed.

  Cheryl sat up straighter, realizing that a tall stone fence could be seen set just back from trees that lined the road on her right. Trees that, upon closer inspection, were planted far too evenly and in a straight line to be naturally forming.

  Only the gaps in the trees where the leaves had fallen let her see the fence, because the land sloped upward just beyond the treeline, preventing anything from being seen at ground level. It was an ingenious design, granting privacy and yet blending in all at the same time.

  There was no disguising the massive metal gate crossing the driveway, however. Tall, imposing and wickedly spiked at the top, it screamed Stay Out in a very 1920’s style. Very ornate, yet functional at the same time.

  Victor pressed a button on the overhead console of the SUV, and the gate shivered then began to retract to either side, revealing that it actually overlapped nearly halfway. Clearly, there was function as well as form behind the design.

  “This is your home?” she asked quietly, looking through the fence. Beyond was a long driveway, lined with huge fir trees that rose into the air to heights she’d never believed feasible. It was awe inspiring.

  “My family’s home, yes,” he said. “This is the ancestral home of the Drakon clan, I guess you might call it.”

  She smiled. “Sounds like it should be one of those fancy homes that has a name to it,” she joked.

  Victor didn’t laugh. “It does.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Not right now,” he said, though this time his tone was a little lighter. “We call it Drakon Keep.”

  “Keep?” she repeated slowly. “Like, castle? That sort of keep? Why would you call it that…” The words died on her lips as the trees ended and they emerged from the forest.

  Ahead of her was a mile or more of gently undulating land, covered in perfect green grass that had yet to lose its luster with the fall. Beautiful as that sight was, however, Cheryl’s attention was focused on the building beyond.

  “Oh. Well that’s an appropriate name,” she said with a laugh.

  “I thought so once I was old enough to appreciate it,” Victor chuckled. “Welcome to my home. Welcome to Drakon Keep.”

  “I feel like a noble from the medieval times,” she said. “Invited to the King’s castle.”

  “I’m no King,” Victor muttered unhappily. “But you could play the part of a noble, I’m sure.”

  “This is a long way from anywhere,” she observed as he took a fork in the road that led around the back of the massive building.

  She watched it pass, all high-arching stained-glass windows set into a stone architecture. Various towers sprouted from the building without rhyme or reason, ending in tall pointed spires at the top. The exterior was blocky and solid-looking, and part of her was surprised to see no moat dug around the exterior, with a drawbridge leading inside.

  “Nobody else is home?” she asked as he came to a halt at the end of the driveway. They were the only car.

  “The parking is actually underground around the other side,” Victor said as they got out. “I brought us here because I want to get this over with, and I’m sure you do too.”

  “Maybe,” she agreed, noting how he’d not said anything about anyone else being at home, but deciding not to push the subject. It seemed to be a touchy one, because that was twice now that he’d evaded answering.

  “Do you feel uncomfortable?” Victor asked, walking onto the grass in what she figured served as the backyard, though it seemed like an inadequate term for such a large building.

  The rear gardens, perhaps. Or the south lawn. She rolled her eyes at the terms. This wasn’t her world. It would never be her world. And yet…

  “Somewhat,” she said slowly. “Which is surprising.”

  “I think that is because you are stronger than you know,” Victor told her. “I have been impressed at that, if nothing else, since meeting you.”

  Flattery? Was Victor being nice to her? What was going on here? She was so confused. Everything Cheryl had thought she’d known about Victor seemed to be coming tumbling down now they were back somewhere he was more comfortable.

  So why was that also making her feel less anxious as well? How was it that her emotions were tied to his?

  “Thank you,” she said, finally replying to his unexpected compliment. “But I’m not sure why I’m not as panicked. I should be, you know.”

  “Perhaps,” Victor agreed, but he seemed distant. “Stay there.”

  She frowned, looking down at the ground. It seemed like normal grass but she began to inspect it carefully. “Why? What’s so special about here?”

  “Nothing.”

  Her head snapped up at the sound of Victor’s voice. It had taken on a deeper octave, but also smoother, less rough.

  “What the fuck,” she gasped as Victor changed before her very eyes.

  The giant man grew larger, his body changing, all proportions lost. Cheryl gaped in stunned silence as his skin turned from a bronze tan to bright turquoise. Except it wasn’t skin at all, she realized, but scales. Bright blue-green scales the color of his eyes, shot through with bolts of a deep violet and navy blue, giving him a marbled pattern that was breath-stealingly beautiful.

  His head sprouted a muzzle, giant teeth disappearing under what passed for lips on the magnificent lizard. Bulges on his back grew larger and then exploded upward, unfurling into wings. Here the turquoise coloring was more muted, and the violet shone through stronger, giving him an iridescent sort of sheen.

  “D-d-d—”

  “Dragon.”

  “Eeep.” It could speak. “You can speak.”

  “Yes,” the dragon-Victor said. It was his voice after all, there was no mistaking that, though it was different somehow.

  “But. But. Hoo boy.” Cheryl’s knee’s gave way and she sank to the ground, reaching out with one hand to slow her descent, moving to a sitting position, head between her knees. “This isn’t real.”

  “This is very real,” the deep, musical voice corrected. “You aren’t dreaming. You’re perfectly sane.”

  There was a fluttering of air, and something rustled the grass nearby. Cheryl clamped her eyes shut, not wanting to see as the dragon snatched her up and ate her. She could do without seeing those pearly-white teeth coming down around her.

  “Please, just make it quick,” she moaned when nothing happened, her head down between her knees still.

  “Make what quick?” the same voice asked.

  “You’re going to eat me. Just get it over with.”

  A very un-human-like sound was emitted from the dragon. The dragon, holy shit, what is going on here? That’s not a sentence I ever expected to think!

  “I don’t eat humans.” There was a pause. “They don’t taste very good.”

  Cheryl yelped and looked up. “How do you know what we taste like?” she screamed, crawling backward over the grass, not caring about any stains she got on her clothes.

  The big scaly beast shook its head, making loud chuffing-like noises. A moment later, she realized it was
laughing.

  “Was that a joke?” she shouted, immediately enraged, getting to her feet, hands planted on her hips. “Do you really think now is the time to make fun of something like that?”

  “I’m sorry,” the dragon said, sounding properly apologetic. “Really, I am. I should have resisted.”

  “No shit!” she shouted, shaking her fist as she walked closer to the dragon to give it a piece of her mind. “That was not funny. At all.”

  “It stopped you from panicking and running away,” the dragon, no, Victor, pointed out.

  Cheryl stopped in her tracks, suddenly coming to terms with the fact she’d just been walking toward the dragon, instead of running away.

  “Well shit,” she muttered. “You got me there.”

  “I told you that you were stronger than you thought,” the big creature—suddenly it was a creature, not a monster—said softly, lowering its head to ground level so she could look into one of its yellow eyes. “You are capable of accepting that this is real, that you are still sane.”

  “You want me to believe in dragons,” she said, laughing to herself. “Right.”

  “Here.” The dragon moved, and once again extended a wingtip toward her. “Touch it. Feel it. I am real. No illusion, no prop. This is who I am, Cheryl. My name is Victor Drakon, and I am a water dragon.”

  Her hand was halfway toward the tip of the wing, but she froze when he said that last part. “A water dragon?”

  The big snout opened abruptly and a blast of water as thick as she was tall streamed from the dragon’s mouth, splashing across the grass a hundred feet or more distant.

  “I…oh. You don’t breathe fire?”

  “Aaric is the fire dragon,” Victor said, shaking his giant scaled head. “Everyone always wants the fire dragon.”

  She laughed. “Sorry, stereotypes and all. But being a water dragon is pretty cool too. Lots of practical uses. You could be a firefighter. They could use talents like that fighting forest fires and such.”

  The dragon head drooped, and Cheryl got the impression of sadness overcoming the great animal.

  “I can’t,” he said quietly. “Humanity must never know about our secret.”

  Biting her lip, Cheryl nodded, feeling stupid. “Of course,” she said slowly, realization dawning. “They wouldn’t accept you.”