It had.
Whoever had commanded the magick had cast a glamour over it, disguising its truth from casual view. That was why she’d overlooked it all those years before.
Now that she could see it clearly, Eithne recognized it as one of a pair, a pair of blades forged for twin princes. She had charged both orbs with magick on a long journey of exile, surrendering her own gift to aid the princes she’d vowed to defend.
“Where is your dagger, my lord?” she asked softly and he shook his great head, smoke rising from his nostrils as he surveyed the barren cavern with obvious displeasure.
“This is mine,” he murmured and the ground shook with the might of his voice. “It was stolen and is now returned. Blazion’s remains lost.” There was another blue shimmer and he shifted back to his human form, then seized the blade from the sleeping warrior. He took the leather hilt and headed for the stairs, climbing with purpose back to the light. Eithne followed him, but glanced back toward the warriors lost in darkness when the walls closed around the staircase.
Would they awaken now? Or would the removal of the magick mean they would die? She could not say, not now that the magick was no longer hers to command. At the summit of the stairs, the prince awaited her, his manner imperious. She felt the heat of his body even in the darkness.
“I’m not going to lock the door behind us.”
“There is no need, Witch. The hoard is gone.” Embron still had that regal disregard for those who were not of the royal dragon blood.
“And the other blade?”
“I will find it, at any cost.”
There was such resolve in his tone that Eithne shivered. Then he smiled, radiating reassurance and charm, and she was sure that her dread of his intentions was unjustified.
If only she’d known his plan.
Erik Sorensson, leader of the Pyr, was restless in his lair. It was late in Chicago, and both his mate and his child were sleeping. His forehead throbbed where his father’s runestone had been used to repair his lost scale.
He was drawn to the broken pieces of the Dragon’s Egg, kept in his hoard. The black obsidian sphere had been broken during the Dragon’s Tail Wars but he always hoped it could be repaired somehow at some future time. He picked up one half and turned it in his hands, a burning pain touching his forehead as light illuminated the surface of the stone.
For a moment, he saw the Dragon’s Egg in its old glory. For a heartbeat, he was certain he saw a coastline drawn on the dark stone in golden light. It looked like the east coast of the United States.
But there was no eclipse, and the Dragon’s Egg wasn’t beneath the light of the moon. It was in the small closed room that contained his hoard. He frowned and looked again, thinking his imagination had gone wild, then replaced the dark stone in its usual resting place.
Erik thought he saw a red spark from the periphery of his vision but when he glanced over his shoulder, everything around it was dark. When he looked back, red letters scrolled across the surface of the Dragon’s Egg, appearing and fading as quickly as he read them.
Magick ebbs and magick flows
Three kinds there are, the wise know:
Earth charms are oldest, slow and deep,
Governing spells, runes, enchanted sleep;
Dragon magick binds to one will,
It constrains, transforms, can even kill;
And wild chaos is darkfire’s mark.
Chaos follows its blue-green spark.
Erik shook his head, not understanding. Earth charms? Dragon magick? He knew nothing of either. The darkfire had been spent and the last remaining crystal—of the three in which the Cantor had trapped the darkfire—was dark.
The verse had no conclusion, no prediction and as far as he could see, no point. He wrote it down anyway, wondering all the while.
In the master bedroom of a Dublin townhouse, a crystal orb cast a glow into the shadows of the bedroom, like a nightlight, but one fueled by ancient magick. The orb was the twin of the one in the pommel of that sword. Its radiance had dimmed significantly in recent years, but as the couple left the cavern beneath Edinburgh castle, it flashed, filling the bedroom with a sudden bright red light.
It flashed and dimmed, returning to its former glow as if nothing had happened at all. It had issued a warning—or maybe a welcome—but no one was there to heed it.
In his home in Vermont, Kristofer Anderson was packing. He was catching the train in the morning to New York and would meet the other Pyr there: he had to leave early to drive to the station in time. There was no way he was going to take his truck into the city. He wondered again why Theo was insistent that they meet earlier than originally planned.
On impulse, he went into his hoard, checking the dragonsmoke barrier once again, and retrieved the small sack. The weight of the twenty-four stones inside was familiar and welcome. They looked almost like Scrabble tiles, but each was a small stone with a different symbol carved into it. The stones had been chosen to be very close in size. They’d been polished before being etched with the rune and had worn even smoother with use. His father had carved them and polished them, and Kristofer thought of his father every time he touched them. He reached into the bag and chose one blindly, closing his hand around it and letting it guide his thoughts.
“Uruz,” Kristofer murmured to himself, naming the rune before he opened his hand and stared down at it. He was right. He had always named the runes right. His father had called it his gift. “A challenge that might cost everything.” He considered the stone for a long moment before replacing it in the bag and tying the drawstring.
Something was beginning.
Good or bad?
Kristofer wasn’t sure. He left his hoard and tucked the bag into his backpack, expecting that he might need the counsel of his father’s runes in New York.
One
Manhattan—Monday, October 28
Kristofer wasn’t a city dragon and he never would be. As he walked with his fellow Pyr down grubby urban streets, the sound of traffic on all sides, he thought of the forest around his home in Vermont. How did anyone survive with so much noise?
Eight of the Pyr had planned their annual reunion for the following weekend, but Theo had called them early. Only Kristofer, Rhys, Alasdair, Kade and Hadrian had been able to change their plans to arrive right away. It was late afternoon by the time Theo had shared his implausible story and the invitation from a wolf shifter for the Pyr to join a battle against the Fae.
Kristofer liked Theo but this story about Fae warriors and archers, about a woman with a book and a vampire protecting her, about wolf shifters and a night circus, was too bizarre to be believed. It wasn’t even plausible that Theo had flown cover for the vampire and woman, so they could move from one refuge—in the submarine Intrepid—to a second—in an antique shop in Soho. Kristofer hadn’t been the only one shaking his head. When Rhys had suggested they visit the so-called haven of the Others early, there’d been unanimous agreement.
Kristofer probably wasn’t the only one who saw this expedition as a chance to get the encounter behind them, reassure Theo and get back to the rented house in time for Rhys to cook an awesome dinner. He’d always noticed that the rooftop patio would be a great place to hang out and take refuge from the city’s bustle. Heading there and having a beer with his friends sounded ideal in this moment.
But there was work to be done first.
Bones was in the former meatpacking district of Manhattan and located in a converted warehouse. Kristofer disliked the place before he even crossed the threshold. Hell’s Kitchen was all concrete, steel and glass with a layer of grime and grit. Even though the area was being gentrified, the new buildings weren’t an improvement in his view. The place needed trees. A park. More green!
“Others,” Rhys said grimly. Rhys had dark hair and dark eyes and was a little shorter than Kade. He was powerful and a great fighter, the kind of dragon who got things done. Rhys liked plans and schedules, which ensured not only that h
is restaurant ran like clockwork but that every time he served a dish, it was exactly like every other time. No wonder he was so successful. He also skeptical of most things, including Theo’s story. “How can there be other shifters in the world and we don’t know about them already? I think it’s a lot of crap.”
“I saw them!” Theo insisted.
There was a conspicuous silence.
“I just don’t like that we didn’t know about them before,” Rhys said.
“Grumpy, grumpy,” Alasdair teased. He could always be counted on to find the humor in any situation.
“Guilty as charged,” Rhys acknowledged with a grin. He shook his head but didn’t manage to look rueful. “I’m never going to like surprises and I refuse to regret it.”
“They don’t fit on your spreadsheet,” Alasdair teased and Rhys laughed.
“Tell me how to add that column and I’ll give it a try.”
Kristofer grinned, doubting it was possible.
“Well, Theo can keep the vampires,” Hadrian muttered. He was Alasdair’s cousin and tended to be more grim than Rhys faced with a surprise. “If there’s any truth in the stories about them, they’re only out for themselves.”
“Maybe they see all non-vampires as walking snacks,” Alasdair said, but no one laughed this time. The cousins both had auburn hair, but Alasdair was a little taller. They’d always looked more like brothers to Kristofer. Alasdair’s eyes were green while Hadrian’s were brown, plus Alasdair had a faint Scottish accent while Hadrian’s accent was British.
“They’re real,” Theo insisted, his tone stubborn.
“Maybe these Others hid from us,” Kristofer suggested. He was the tallest of the group, thanks to his Drakkir heritage, and tended to be the one to smooth things over. Rhys liked to say that Kristofer could find the heart hidden in a stone, which was exactly true.
“Since they’ve hidden from humans, that makes sense,” Alasdair agreed.
“Self-preservation usually does,” Kade said. He was the youngest of the group and Kristofer didn’t know him very well. He could never get a good read on what Kade was thinking, which was weird. They both had an affinity to earth and that commonality usually led to an easy understanding—like the one he had with his mentor, Rafferty.
“And we’re back to vampires,” Hadrian noted, raising his hands in surrender.
“We’re here,” Theo said tersely. “Now, you’ll see for yourselves.”
They halted as one before the steel door at the address. There was a black sign above the door with the name of the place composed in white metal bones. There were no windows. Kristofer knew that none of them liked the look or the smell of it.
“It looks like a good place to set a trap,” Rhys noted, glancing up and down the empty street.
“If it is,” Theo noted. “Kristofer’s suggestion is brilliant.”
“Being four days early gives us the element of surprise,” Kristofer agreed. “If they’re serious about alliance, our choice might be seen as a good thing.”
“And if it’s a trap, we just might foil it,” Rhys agreed. “Okay, sometimes surprise has its merit. Let’s do this thing.”
They fist-bumped and Kristofer opened the door.
“I’ll go first,” Theo volunteered, which was only right as he was the reason they were even there. He stepped inside and Kristofer followed him, scanning the interior. Hadrian and Kade were right behind him, with Alasdair hanging back as usual. His easy manner often made others overlook his keen powers of observation. Rhys was the last to enter the bar, having taken a moment to scan the empty street first.
“Don’t eat anything,” Rhys muttered. “That kitchen is an abomination.”
When the door closed, it suddenly seemed very dark. The interior of the bar was all high ceilings and deep shadows, but the place smelled like stale beer, human perspiration and smoke. Even the air was thick because there was a palpable tension—despite the lack of patrons.
Or maybe because of it.
Kristofer’s eyes adjusted quickly and he saw the faint blue light surrounding his fellows. The Pyr shimmered blue before shifting shape, so he knew he wasn’t the only one who was ready for anything. The bar was long and black, as shiny as if it were made of obsidian. Two bartenders loitered behind it—they had nothing to do, given that the place was practically empty.
At the far end of the bar, a short burly guy with numerous tattoos stood with his arms folded across his chest. He wasn’t a bouncer because he wasn’t at the door. Kristofer figured he was the owner, and he was watching the money.
Or maybe hoping for some to turn up.
He glared at the Pyr, so Kristofer had to assume that he’d guessed who they were.
One silver-haired guy sat at the bar, drinking a beer, apparently the only customer in the place. Two waitresses were gossiping by the doors to the kitchen and Kristofer could hear movement back there, as well as smell barbeque. His stomach grumbled despite Rhys’s warning. The waitresses, the bartenders, the owner and the guy with the beer turned to stare at the Pyr in silence.
It wasn’t the warmest welcome and not what Kristofer would have expected from anyone who had proposed an alliance.
Theo crossed the floor to the guy with the beer and offered his hand. “Hey Caleb,” he said. “Good to see you again.” So, he was the wolf shifter who had spoken to Theo.
“It’s not Halloween,” Caleb said warily.
“We came to check things out.”
Caleb got to his feet, moving with an economy of movement that made Kristofer think he was a fighter or a cop. “Not everyone is excited that I’ve invited you to consider joining us,” he said in a low growl. “I have to think we’ll be stronger together, though.”
When the wolf shifter moved forward to shake hands with the other Pyr, Kristofer noticed his limp. “Old battle souvenir,” he said when he reached for Kristofer’s hand. At closer proximity, Kristofer saw that Caleb’s eyes were different colors, one blue and one grey. He inhaled but could only detect the scent of wolf when he concentrated. Could the wolf shifters disguise their scent? Kristofer knew his own senses were sharp and that power might explain how they’d remained hidden.
Caleb glanced down then, noticing the scars on the backs of Kristofer’s hands. “Looks like you have one, too.”
“Occupational hazard,” Kristofer said, which wasn’t strictly true. “But it’s just on the surface.” He would have pulled his hand back, but Caleb tightened his grip and took a closer look.
“Looks like you got burned,” he said.
“I did.”
Caleb’s survey moved to Kristofer’s face. “I wouldn’t think your kind would be susceptible to that.”
Kristofer wasn’t inclined to confide in this guy. “You might think a lot of things about my kind.” He smiled. “I might think a few about yours. I thought the point here was to move beyond assumptions.”
Caleb nodded then shook hands with the remaining Pyr. The short guy with the tattoos introduced himself as Murray, the owner. Kristofer could smell the element of earth on him and wondered what his nature was. He suddenly felt like he should have been paying more attention to those around him all his life, instead of just assuming they were humans. He felt like he’d been missing a lot.
The bartender was a tiny woman with dark hair and green eyes, and a red string tied around her wrist, as if she didn’t want to forget something. Theo seemed to be intrigued by her and she was ignoring him so studiously that Kristofer figured the attraction was mutual.
He exchanged a glance with Rhys, who rolled his eyes but said nothing.
“I don’t see any Others,” Hadrian said, folding his arms across his chest.
Murray snorted. “Besides us?”
“They’ll be here Thursday,” Caleb interjected smoothly. “Which is why you were invited to come then.”
“We need to know what’s going on first,” Alasdair countered.
“Why does this smell like a trap?” Rhys demand
ed and Caleb stood up again.
Kristofer could feel hackles rising and hostility brewing. “If it is better for us all to join together against the Fae, distrust isn’t going to help,” he said.
“I already helped out as a sign of goodwill,” Theo said.
“Don’t pretend you can stay out of it,” the tiny bartender said with a shake of her head. Her voice was low and sultry. “The Dark Queen will try to eliminate us all either way. I think it’s smarter to be fighting against that, no matter what alliances have to be made.”
“We don’t even know who else is involved,” Hadrian protested.
“Or what’s in it for us,” Alasdair added.
“Try to eliminate us?” Kristofer echoed, but no one paid any attention because everyone else was talking. Those few words were alarming.
“She?” Kade asked. “Who?”
Murray raised his hands. “Don’t say her name!”
Rhys stepped up beside Kade to confront Murray. “This is a waste of time. You can’t battle a foe without knowing her name or her goal.”
The tiny bartender joined Murray, hands on her hips. “You can’t just blunder into something without understanding what’s at stake, or how to keep things from getting worse.”
“Blunder?” Theo demanded, moving to stand beside Rhys. “We were invited here, although I’d never guess from this reception. We don’t need to be part of this. You wanted us here.”
The dark-haired bartender spun away and began to pull draft beers. “You have to understand. There are those who aren’t dragon fans,” she said tightly. “That whole television series about the Pyr with Melissa Smith makes Others who have chosen to remain hidden distrust your kind. Why would you reveal yourself to humans?”
Dragon's Kiss (The DragonFate Novels Book 2) Page 3
