Rylin's Fire

by Michelle Howard

  Two strips of pale light crossed his face as he moved to the side of a partial railing on the right. The shadows hid the majority of him except for his eyes. In the dark, they acted as a beacon. As gentle as his broad hand was, there was no mistaking his urgency. Dara peered over the railing and her stomach pitched. Another ledge leading to the very hard ground below.

  “Are you alright?” Rylin rubbed his thumb along the back of the hand he held.

  Dara blew out a breath and eased as close as possible to him without seeming obvious. His sudden grin hinted she wasn’t as clever as she thought. “I’m fine.”

  “Where in the north region, Ry?” Mikal interrupted.

  Rylin stared off into the sky, head tipped back as a breeze stirred his hair, mussing the black strands. No one seemed disturbed by the fact that they were all standing near a dangerous precipice.

  “Not far from where the party was tonight.” He shook off whatever dark thoughts occupied his mind and released Dara’s hand. “Shift. I’ll lead the way.”

  Dara pressed her back against the rocky wall behind her as five black dragons suddenly appeared in place of the men. She blinked at their massive size. Four launched into the air with a flap of their wings, sending a fierce current to whip about her face.

  The last dragon extended a clawed hand toward her. With Rylin’s help, Dara resumed her seat on his neck and gripped the nodules for a hand hold. Soon they joined his men in flight. Leaning low, she kept her face tucked down and blinked as tears formed from their rapid pace. Rough scales scraped her cheeks, the aroma of cinnamon tickling her nostrils.

  When they neared where they found the body earlier, Rylin dove low, his men trumpeting their rage in a screeching caw. The violence of the sound had Dara hunching her shoulders. They hit the ground with a hard thud and she barely managed to settle her hips after the change from being in motion to standing still. Rylin plucked her from his back and set her on her feet, then shifted all in one controlled move.

  The others changed as well, naked as the day they were born in human form. Rylin waved his hand in their direction and black loincloths wrapped around each of their waists, hanging low from their hips. Dara stumbled at the absent minded gesture but hurried along to keep near Rylin as she’d promised.

  Mikal knelt beside the woman first, touching the blackened marks at her right shoulder. His lips twisted in a grimace. “I still don’t recognize this symbol. It has to mean something if he keeps leaving it behind.”

  “It’s the same as the others,” Rylin confirmed. “But I’ve been unable to decipher its meaning.”

  Bejon squatted to his haunches on the other side and carefully rolled the blonde over. Avi and Layne roared and Dara’s stomach heaved at what was revealed. A hole gaped at the center of her chest, the smoke tinged edges of her dress parting to the side and doing little to preserve her modesty.

  Pressing her hand to her mouth and holding in a moan, Dara crept closer. The smell of charred flesh reached her and she wanted to hurl. Fists knotted, Ry stood over the body, every inch vibrating. “Her heart has been removed.”

  “He’s escalated. This was done by a Dracol in a rage.” Mikal shook his head and rose to his feet. “I’ve never known the Green to kill like this, unless King Varyk has a rogue.”

  Appearing the most calm of the group, Avi spoke next, though he did it through clenched teeth. “Devon should have sensed the attack. A lira’s instinct is to reach for her mate in times of danger.”

  Anger pulsed in waves from all of them. Smoke swirled from their nostrils. As fascinating as she found the sight with Rylin earlier, Dara sensed in this situation it was a much more dangerous sign and not to be taken lightly.

  “Where is it?” Bejon asked, glancing around. “Where’s her heart?”

  Mikal took a few steps back, his gaze studying the ground. He walked a tight perimeter around the area, then dropped to a knee again, not far away from the woman’s body. He fingered the grass and sniffed his fingers. “He ate it.”

  ***

  Ry cursed.

  “He ate her heart?” Dara gagged in disbelief.

  Ry came to her side and curved an arm around her shoulders. She immediately turned her face into his chest, blocking out the gruesome sight.

  “Are you certain?” he asked.

  Mikal nodded. “There is Dracol slesh.”

  Slesh was a mixture of saliva and ash which came about after eating in Dracol form. The other two women found had not been mutilated in this manner.

  “Do you think it’s one of ours?” Ry asked them while caressing Dara’s short hair in an effort to ease her trembling.

  Avi, Bejon, Mikal, and Layne gathered together. The mantle allowed Ry ample access to the anger they tried to withhold. Their driving emotions fed his essence, ramping up his Dracol with the need to react. To avenge this insult.

  “I haven’t heard of any Black straddling the edge.” Mikal would know. His light hearted persona encouraged others to trust and confide in him. Little did they know Mikal made the perfect assassin, and Rylin had used him often in that capacity in the past when necessary.

  “It could be someone from the other sects,” Avi said.

  Sometimes an older Dracol, one who warred often in the past, had trouble adjusting to the precarious peace on Vovin. Their essence rose in a constant attempt to drive them to war and fight. Those who couldn’t resist succumbed to madness, and it was up to their respective King to cast them into the flames in an honorable death. It was a task Ry didn’t enjoy. Ever.

  He tried to remember the last time one of his people had lost control of the raptor within. Several years ago at least.

  “Why would one of your people eat...someone’s heart?” Dara pulled away from Ry.

  His Dracol rumbled at the sight of her pale face and quivering lips. Her introduction to his society shouldn’t be one of fear, but unfortunately this wasn’t something he could hide. “There is old lore hinting that if a Dracol consumes the heart of another, he will imbue their power.”

  Mikal spoke up. “A mated female is said to have the most powerful essence because she loves with such intensity.”

  Ry stared at the gruesome sight, thoughts churning. Three deaths in little over three weeks’ time. “I’ll summon the other Kings.”

  Someone had a rogue amongst them.

  Chapter 9

  As soon as Ry returned to his home, he hurried Dara to his rooms. This suite belonged to the reigning King and he’d made few changes other than adding his clothes to the closet. He snagged a forgotten shirt from the floor and shrugged into it.

  “Wow, this is a lot of space for one person.” Her gaze took in everything.

  Ry tried to view it from an outside perspective. Everything was bigger when you were Dracol. There were four connecting rooms which might be a lot but he was long used to it. Minimum furniture and plenty of open areas to keep him from feeling confined. “Feel free to look around. I don’t have any secrets.”

  Her mouth twisted at that, but she strolled through the rooms and Ry followed. They passed through his office first, a sitting area, then his bedroom, and finally this space. When Dara reached the last room on the end, he leaned a shoulder against the wall and studied her reaction. Green eyes widened and her mouth fell open. His lips curved up in a smile.

  “This—this is...I don’t have words.” She touched a statue made of gold, with jewels the size of his fists imbedded in the face for eyes.

  The snarling raptor stood over eight feet in height. Small in comparison to a Dracol’s true size, and yet it stretched higher than Dara’s hands could reach. She walked deeper into the room, fingers idly touching tables covered in rare coins, jewels and other priceless artifacts, throughout including a twelve foot sword mounted on the far wall.

  To his surprise, Dara headed straight for the gleaming blade, its tarnished hilt reflecting in the overhead light. “A sword for a dragon?”

  Ry folded his arms over his chest. “In times past, a
Dracol would use a sword in shifted form for battle. Any fights with each other now are mostly with claws and teeth. If it’s enemy combat, then depending on their sect, the Dracol would draw on their power base.”

  Dara paused near a cream colored vase with vibrant blue streaks in a swirl pattern, a recent acquisition of Ry’s. He liked the twisted shape. She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Sect? Power base?”

  “There are four major sects who rule the Dracol here on Vovin. I’m King of the Black.”

  “Black Dracols, obviously.” Dara grinned as she picked up a shintu blade. The weapon’s curved hilt fit her grip perfectly.

  “Yes. We can control lightning in both forms and spit fire with enough force to wipe out an entire city. Then there’s the Green, ruled by King Varyk. They spit a poison vapor and can teleport.”

  Her eyes got wider but Ry continued. She needed to know. “King Faris rules the Silver. They’re capable of spitting ice and have the ability to use mind control on their victims if they stare into their eyes too long. The Purple sect is ruled by Kon.”

  Dara set the shintu down and scooped up a hand full of coins. She cocked her head to the side. “What can the Purple do?”

  Ry’s vision zoomed in on her hands as she tossed the coins in the air and caught them. An unexpected sense of possession reared its head seeing her touch them. When one fell to the carpeted floor with a clink, he tensed.

  “Rylin?”

  He shook his head and wrenched his attention from the coins back to the focus of their conversation. “The Purple spit an acid which melts anything it touches and they can breathe under water. They spend a lot of time beneath the oceans of Vovin because of that.”

  “On Earth, the myths say a dragon—not a Dracol mind you, but a dragon keeps a horde. It’s where all the treasure is kept.”

  She turned and faced him, every bit disheveled. His breath caught. Her hair was messy from riding, her dress contained creases and grass stains from their earlier lovemaking, and clumps of mud peppered her bare feet. Despite all of that, Ry thought she was the most sensuous being he’d ever encountered.

  “This is your horde.” Her announcement amused him.

  “These are the treasures of the Black Dracol,” he corrected. Each reigning King added what he considered prize possessions to the room and thus the contents grew. The coins were Ry’s special addition. His Dracol held an unnatural fascination for coins of every kind, from every region and other worlds.

  “In other words, your horde,” she repeated with a cheeky grin.

  He crossed the room to her side, the need to hold her overshadowing all that he had to do.

  Surprise widened her eyes. “Rylin?”

  He grabbed her and buried his face in the short coils of black curls, scented her for fear. Nothing. His shoulders eased slightly and Ry squeezed her tighter. “Allow me one moment to enjoy holding you. Today I went from disappointment at not finding anyone at the mating party to discovering you.” He cupped her cheek. “Fate plays games and we’re mere pieces on the board. Finding you is a wonderful gift overshadowed by the death of one of my people.”

  “Don’t worry about that. This is much more important. I understand that.”

  “You’re important, Dara. Very.” Ry removed one hand from her waist and tapped her nose lightly. “And none of that dragon nonsense.”

  She sputtered and tickled him. Ry chuckled and caught her hands in his, but not because he was ticklish. Her outrage amused him. “Come. I ordered a message sent to the other Kings. We should shower and change.”

  Dara stiffened in his arms. “I don’t have anything with me. I’m staying at the resort for off-world visitors and my stuff is there.”

  Ry couldn’t help snarling. In light of Shara’s death, letting her out of his sight was not an option. “I’ll have someone bring your things here.”

  ***

  Dara straightened her shoulders and eased away from Rylin’s embrace. “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean?” Annoyance flashed across the smooth angles of his face.

  Dara took a deep breath and met his gold stare. “I think I should stay at the resort.”

  His body shuddered and horror darkened his eyes. “Then you’ve changed your mind?”

  “No!” She clenched her fingers on the sides of his opened shirt. “I’m not going back to Earth, but we could both take tonight to clear our heads.”

  All expression wiped from his face and when he stepped back, Dara felt as if he’d taken all of the warmth of earlier with him. “My head is clear. But perhaps things are different for Earth females. Dracol go after what we want. ”

  “I want you,” she snapped. “I’m just asking to return to my room tonight. You have a lot going on right now and I’m a distraction.”

  A heavy growl rumbled forth. The room filled with the sound and the hair at her nape tingled in the face of his temper. “You. Are. Not. A. Distraction.”

  “Okay. Wrong word.” Dara held up her hands in surrender. “Give me tonight, Rylin. Tomorrow I can come back or you can come see me.”

  Rylin stared at her for an uncomfortably long time. Dara held her breath, wondering if he’d blow up at her. He still wore the black loincloth at his hips, along with a buttoned down white shirt that remained open. The parted material revealed the rippling muscles of his chest. Beneath the hem, thick thighs bunched and his fingers curled into fists.

  “I will come and see you,” he said at last, not taking his eyes from her.

  Dara released a breath on a nervous sigh. “Thank you, Rylin.”

  His lips quirked up in the corner. “This must be very different for you. In my haste to keep you close, I forgot.”

  Dara huffed out a laugh. “It’s been a fairly exciting night, you could say.”

  “Agreed.” Rylin tugged her close, wrapping an arm about her waist. “And while I wish you’d reconsider, I won’t pressure you. If you’re ready, I’ll take you back now. I have to be here in time for the arrival of the other Kings.”

  “Alright.” Dara rested her head on Rylin’s chest as another thought crossed her mind. “That woman...do you think she suffered?”

  Rylin answer immediately. “No.”

  “Good.” She stroked his exposed skin, allowing her hand to come to a stop at the band of cloth about his waist. “This is going to work, right?”

  “It’s going to work.” Ry curved about her protectively and nuzzled the top of her head. “I promise.”

  Dara shivered as an ominous foreboding seeped into her pores at his vow.

  Chapter 10

  The Dracol Kings responded to his summons and arrived at Ry’s home shortly after he returned from leaving Dara at her place for off-world visitors. His Dracol fought him the entire flight back, wanting to turn around and guard the female he’d claimed.

  “You insult my Dracol by calling us here,” Varyk spat. Green waves fell to his collar from a small side part. “Whatever you’re dealing with is a matter for the Black. I resent any implication that my Green are involved.”

  Ry knew requesting the presence of the other Kings with so little information would open him up for censure. Getting them to the privacy of his office without anyone becoming aware had been tricky but he wanted their take on the matter before it became a wide spread rumor.

  Faris, King of the Silver, scoffed. “We all know of the vendetta you hold against the Black, Varyk. It’s not unreasonable for Ry to include you in this meeting, since he says he has something of grave import to discuss.”

  Faris’ statement didn’t necessarily mean the Silver agreed with him. It only proved Ry wasn’t wrong in his belief that Varyk or one of his Green could be responsible for the murders taking place in Black territory.

  The long-limbed King of the Green leaned back in his chair, leather clad legs sprawled out before him as he sipped his wine. A smirk played about Varyk’s mouth. “If everyone is a suspect in whatever news there is, then it stands to reason that Kon should be her
e.”

  Ry didn’t react to the arrogant comment. The King of the Purple had sent an emissary in his stead—not that Ry had expected him to show. Konlan’s grudge wasn’t against the entirety of the Black like Varyk’s, but against one female in particular. When Breya turned down his suit, only to mate another the next day, Kon had lost all semblance of control and gave reign to his Dracol. The beast spewed acid everywhere, calling on the strength of his sect in an attempt to get at the male to whom Breya pledged her heart. The damage had been extensive but worse was the breach it created between Ry and a man he’d once called friend.

  “Dairin’s presence is enough for me to satisfy the reglio. I wouldn’t have demanded each of you show today if it wasn’t important.” Ry stared hard at Varyk, his challenge unspoken if his peer chose to refute his statement.

  Faris tipped his head to the side, causing the length of the silver white braid to fall over his shoulder, hitting his jewel encrusted belt buckle. “This must be serious. When I received word you’d called a reglio, I almost laughed. It’s been over a century since a King enacted such a formal summons.”

  Ry shook his head. “I wish this was a joke, but what I share is very serious.”

  Varyk slammed his glass on the small table to the right of him, but didn’t lose his laconic slouch. His raptor gold eyes glittered with menace. “Nothing that happens to the Black can possibly justify the demand I leave the warm thighs I spent the night between.”

  “Someone is slaying liras.”

  Ry’s announcement fell into a dead silence. Dairin, the representative from the Purple, straightened from his lax pose against the wall. The short strands of brown and gold streaked hair formed a mohawk in the middle of his head from front to back with the sides tapered short. “Be specific, King of the Black.”

  Ry folded his arms over his chest, crossed his legs at the ankle, and leaned his hip against the desk at the center of his office. “It’s exactly as I said. Three of our females have been found slain. Liras, all of them, and their mates none the wiser until the last moments of their life when the killer let them reach out in terror along the mate connection.”