Fifth of Blood

by Kris Austen Radcliffe

  It might be a ruse but Ladon’s body responded as if it wasn’t. She was vulnerable. She did need help. And not his.

  Nakajima glanced at Ladon’s shoulders the way someone trained to fight watched the body of an opponent. “Let me look at her arm.”

  Ladon slowly, haltingly, let go. Still staring at Nakajima, he picked up the second case and walked backward toward the broad door into the warehouse proper.

  Dragon appeared next to a fallen stack of boxes as Ladon opened the case. Inside was another, larger pack attached to what looked like an oversized belt. A long hose snaked out from the pack. Also in the case were four masks of different sizes, all shaped in such a way as to fit over dragon nostrils.

  Go back to Rysa. The beast pushed Ladon toward the door.

  I think you are supposed to place the belt around your neck. Ladon did not like the setup. At all. The thought of something around Dragon’s neck was as unsettling as Rysa’s illness.

  I will hold it and wait for you in the van. He pushed Ladon away again.

  By the van, Nakajima poked at Rysa’s arm. “We need to get her into the lab. You need food, Ms. Torres.”

  She cowered against the side of the van, and wrapped her good arm around her chest the way she did before falling into a complete panic. Her foot tapped as well, as if she needed to bounce on her toes.

  It was an act. It had to be an act. His love’s confidence had come far enough for her not to be that woman anymore.

  But right now, Ladon wondered.

  “Do you know where the Burners took her talisman?” Nakajima now ignored Rysa and spoke to Ladon. She had effectively become the thing in need of care, the passive object, and he had stopped paying attention to any of her movements or words. “Having her talisman would help.”

  She had used his prejudices to become as invisible as Dragon.

  What had Andreas said? She learns fast. His brilliant woman had just manipulated the doctor better and faster than Daniel could have.

  Ladon stepped forward, moving in a way that affirmed the doctor’s behavior. Rysa cowered against his side but spoke first.

  “I…” She hiccupped. “I lied before. I said two Burners. But there were four. That other Emperor—I don’t remember his name because I never did well in school—he was here. And he stole my talisman just like Trajan said he would.”

  She hiccupped again. “They didn’t fizzle. They ran away.”

  So she wanted her talisman’s true place in the van’s blade safe kept secret. Ladon frowned as he gripped her fingers. “She speaks the truth. We made a mistake trusting Hadrian.”

  Nakajima’s back straightened as if Rysa had just affirmed a suspicion. And now Ladon knew they were also looking for Hadrian.

  The van rocked and the doctor’s attention snapped to the vehicle.

  I am in. Dragon waited inside.

  Ladon swung Rysa into his arms. “I will follow you to the labs.”

  “Good,” Nakajima said. After a second he nodded and walked toward the Praesagio vehicles.

  Ladon carried Rysa around to the back doors. She knocked her mask against his before crawling in. “That’s the best kiss I can do right now.”

  Ladon smiled. “You realize Trajan and the other Ulpi Fates won’t be fooled.”

  “I know. But if the Ulpi have been spying on me, it’s probably their impression of me as well as his.” She leaned against Dragon and closed her eyes, her face taking on a sadness Ladon did not expect. “I’m well aware of how other people see me, Ladon. I have been all my life. And if people are going to see me as the fragile girl who is always a mess, then I’m going to use it.”

  She opened her eyes and grinned. “Because I don’t want to be that anymore. And I won’t, because I have the support I need to be something better.”

  Ladon’s heart felt too big for his chest again, the way it always did when she said such words to him and to the beast. “I think I love you, Draki Prime.”

  Rysa’s grin turned into a smile, even though Ladon watched her breathe as if trying to push back more pain.

  “You better love me,” she said. “Otherwise I’m stealing your dragon.” She wrapped her arm around the beast’s neck.

  You need to drive. The other vehicles start.

  For a moment, Ladon’s faith that they would get through this pushed back all the fears. He grinned too, and walked around to the driver’s door to take them into the lion’s den.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Anna turned her van off the freeway and into a valley sheltering several industrial buildings.

  Andreas peered at the low-slung gleaming glass boxes. Corporate design remained the same no matter the city or nation, and Praesagio was no different.

  Anna’s face twisted the way it did when she argued with Sister-Dragon. After a long several minutes, she slapped the steering wheel. “I do trust him!” she yelled.

  Sandro pulled away from the beast and raised his hands. “Sorry. Did you realize she has six joints in each finger? It looks like three but it is six. Dragon biomechanics are fascinating.”

  Andreas looked over his shoulder. “I don’t think they are talking about you.” No, this was about the Tsar.

  Sandro shrugged.

  Anna glanced at the rearview mirror, an eyebrow arched at Sandro, though her annoyance with her dragon still showed in her thin lips. “You are much like your daughter. Neither of you focus on the task at hand.”

  Her tone was not pleasant.

  Sandro stretched his fingers and dusted his hands. He nodded once to Sister-Dragon and returned to the step between the front and the back of the van, though this time he twisted his legs under his body instead of setting his feet next to the shift.

  He looked as uncomfortable as Andreas would be if he crammed himself into that position.

  Sandro gripped the side of the passenger seat when Anna took a corner.

  “Building preconceived notions before face-to-face contact with a patient interferes with diagnostics.” The pitch of Sandro’s voice dropped. “Andreas told me the framework of the situation while on the plane. Asking you questions will not enhance my understanding.”

  Andreas slapped the dashboard. “That is enough! I will enthrall both of you!” He pointed over his shoulder. “And you as well, Sister-Dragon.”

  Anna’s grip on the wheel tightened.

  Too much satisfaction played over Sandro’s face, and constraining the desire to blow ‘nauseated’ at the man took more effort than it should have. “We plan.”

  Anna snorted. “Call Brother.”

  “The Fate was specific. I am to stay hidden.” Sandro returned to Sister-Dragon’s side. “She said, ‘The hidden ones will find the way.’ I have stayed hidden for nine years.”

  Anna scowled and pointed a finger at Andreas. “Hidden? From Trajan? I guarantee you Sandro is not hidden. He’s in my van! Every single Prime present-seer with an interest in Trajan’s affairs knows right now that the missing father of the Draki Prime is in Portland! And with us.”

  Andreas glanced over his shoulder again. “She’s got a point, Sandro. The Dracae are nothing if not obvious.”

  Anna glared at him but did not respond.

  Behind him, the other Shifter shrugged. “I’m married to the most powerful present-seer on the planet and I managed to stay hidden from her for almost a decade.”

  Anna sniffed. “Is he serious?”

  Sandro moved closer again. “Maybe my angel Fate is stitching.”

  “It seems to me, Mr. Torres, that your angel Fate is a future-seer. A triad’s present-seer does the stitching.” Now Anna looked smug. “All Fates play games, even the good ones.”

  Andreas rubbed his face.

  Sandro gripped the sides of the seats and the leather creaked as he leaned forward. “Maybe they play games. Maybe I am hidden! Perhaps the best response is to have Mr. Sisto mind-trick the guards into thinking this big truck of yours is a delivery vehicle and we drive right into Praesagio, pull up front,
and I fix whatever that insane prick Vivicus did to my daughter.”

  He sat back and crossed his arms. “I used to work for him. He wasn’t crazy then. Or he didn’t show it.”

  Andreas shook his head. “He’s been crazy since Trajan’s reign. At times it recedes. But I do not understand how my half-brother continues to get away with the damage he causes.”

  Sandro leaned forward. “Twenty years ago, he had the best, most advanced Shifter medical research lab in the world. The Seraphim were doing good for our people—and for the Fates. We were working with a present-seer who had lost his triad mates. He wasn’t powerful, but he had advanced Parcae sickness. He came in with Ismene and Mira. I thought, finally, we had a chance to stop the Shifter-Fate stupidity by helping the man.”

  Sandro paused for a second. “I was this close when my wife’s brother attacked.” He held up his hand with his thumb and pointer finger about half an inch apart. “That son of a bitch Faustus destroyed everything and set Vivicus back on his ‘kill all the Fates’ path. Mira and I ran and I kept working because she has the sickness.”

  He paused again. “I won’t let my family down. Not again.”

  Anna watched the road, her face showing the far-away slackness indicating she and her beast argued again. Behind him, Sister-Dragon’s hide slowed. Sandro, distracted once more, traced a squiggle as it moved across the dragon’s neck.

  When Anna shook her head, Andreas knew something of Sandro’s words had sunk in.

  She continued to stare at the road. “At least text Brother. Say ‘I found what went missing.’” When she glanced at Andreas, her brow crinkled. She looked down as she blinked and returned her attention to the road.

  So Ladon’s mood had worsened.

  Andreas pulled out his phone. “I’ll text both Ladon and Rysa.” Because both should know.

  His phone’s screen burst to life, spewing its green and blue electronic light over his hand. A call came in just as he was about to dial. Which probably meant one thing, and one thing only. “It’s a local number.”

  “I told you Trajan knows exactly who is here and where we all are.” Anna scowled as they passed a large Praesagio Industries: Making a difference for the world to see sign. “We will be on their doorstep in less than five minutes.”

  Andreas stifled a groan as his phone chirped again. The screen flashed the number but Anna needed to calm down. Hotheadedness when dealing with the likes of Trajan was not now, and never had been, a good idea.

  On the third chirp, Andreas answered.

  “Mr. Sisto. How are you? It has been too long.” The voice on the other end sounded exactly the same as it had the last time Andreas spent time of consequence with the Emperor.

  “Hello, Trajan.”

  Something rustled on the other end of the call. Trajan must be shuffling papers. “I suggest you put your phone on speaker. The Dracas and the young Ms. Torres’s father would like to hear what I have to say.”

  Andreas breathed deep and slow, to center himself, as he switched his phone to speaker. “What is your angle in this, Trajan?”

  “The Dracas’s brother asked me that same question.” He paused and when he spoke again, his voice carried conflicting tones of sarcasm and paternal concern. “I do believe you surround yourself with untrusting men, legatus.” Only Trajan could sound like an asshole and a distressed father at the same time.

  I am going to kill him, Anna mouthed.

  Trajan chuckled. “No, you are not going to kill me. You left behind the old ways before your brother did. You have always been the more perceptive of the Dracae. The one most likely to understand the wider world.”

  Sandro leaned forward. “Where is my daughter?”

  More rustling. “My people tell me she arrives now.” Muffled voices followed. “You have no idea how happy we are to have you return to civilization, Dr. de la Turris. No idea at all.”

  Sandro’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “When you arrive, Eric—our head of Special Medical—wants you in the labs. Your work on Parcae sickness makes you somewhat of an icon here at Praesagio Industries.”

  “What do you know of my work?” Sandro asked.

  A crunching sound popped through the speaker. Trajan must have moved his chair. “The Jani did not completely destroy your facility. We salvaged what we could—and helped the survivors we found.”

  Anna pulled the van into a small lot in front of a lone building just off the road. She put the vehicle into park and turned toward Andreas, her face suspicious. “Why?”

  “Why, Dracas-Human? Because the six Prime triads of the Ulpi see what is coming, and unlike the Jani, we do not rush to judgment. We wish to survive.”

  Anna shook her head. In the back, Sister-Dragon signed He is lying.

  “I am giving you all a chance, here.” Irritation crept into Trajan’s voice. “Praesagio builds. We are not the cause of the ill winds blowing through your lives. We offer the Dracae protection from the unending modern pokes of this new electronic world. And we offer you, First Enthraller, what you have deserved since you proved yourself in the Empire—autonomy. Work with us. Not for your mother.” The volume of his voice dropped. “And we always need smart normals who know how to work with both Shifters and Fates.”

  Was he offering Renee a job?

  “The Praesagio laboratories make the Seraphim’s set-up look like children’s toys, Dr. de la Turris,” Trajan said.

  Again, Sister Dragon signed, He is lying.

  “We will train Ms. Torres. She will become the greatest Prime this world has known. Greater than her mother’s triad and greater than my grandsons, the original Draki Prime.” Trajan paused again for the correct amount of time to accent his next words for supreme impact. “Greater than I.”

  Sandro tapped the back of Andreas’s seat and the vibration popped against his spine. “We need to go. Rysa needs me. We need to go.”

  “Yes. We are trying to help her, but the decisions she makes—and the decisions the Dracos will make—are not our doing. Ms. Torres needs a healer.” Trajan paused again. “She needs her father.”

  Sandro’s tapping increased.

  “The guards will show you through. Meet us at the gray building, the third from the entrance.” Trajan cut the call.

  He is not sincere, Sister-Dragon signed.

  “I saw an image.” Sandro blinked. “Trajan in medieval armor, on a horse, talking at both the Dracas and the Dracos.”

  Anna closed her eyes for a second. The image Sister-Dragon shared with Sandro must have called up other, worse memories.

  Andreas squeezed her arm. “Focus on the present.”

  She nodded. “Brother is also having a difficult time with…” An exhale that could have been mistaken for a sigh blew out her nose. But Andreas knew her well enough to know she did it to decrease her desire to punch someone, not to signal giving up. “…the past.”

  Rysa had been correct. All that had happened taxed Ladon. And taxed him beyond his breaking point.

  Almost all Shifters carried a terrible awe of Ladon and Anna, and it brewed more from the humans than the beasts. The consistently black wardrobe, the physical speed and strength, the frightening facial expressions when they communicated with their dragons gave the woman sitting next to him—and her brother—an aura of doom. The Dracae, no matter how beautiful, were godlings of destruction.

  Stories of their past deeds did nothing to minimize their reputations.

  Andreas scrolled through the numbers on his phone, stopping at Ladon’s, and called.

  After four rings, it went to voice mail. “We have Sandro Torres.” He ended the call.

  Anna’s expression changed into the stony hardness of a Dracae preparing for battle. “Try the Fate.”

  Andreas dialed Rysa. After four rings, her phone also went to voice mail. He left the same message.

  “What does that mean?” Sandro’s fidgeting increased.

  Sister-Dragon sniffed at his head, but neither Andreas nor An
na answered.

  Instead, Anna took the van out of park and pulled it onto the road, heading for the labs at Praesagio Industries.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Derek wondered if his newly Dracae-enhanced body would withstand a close-range Burner explosion. One from a popped Burner sitting in the passenger seat of the ugly stolen sedan Derek now drove toward Praesagio Industries’ main campus.

  The car, though, might explode on its own from Billy’s stench alone. The Burner talked incessantly and set off little puffs of acid while he sent texts on Derek’s phone. All, Derek suspected, to prove how annoying he could be.

  Or, perhaps, to solidify the memories of what just happened. Either way, Billy’s irritating and random behavior made Derek edgy.

  He held a dagger between the palm of his right hand and the steering wheel, angled down so as not to alarm the other drivers roaring alongside them as they sped down the highway, and he could easily sink the weapon into his passenger’s chest.

  He might be able to get to the shoulder before the explosion and move out of traffic so as not to cause others harm. He would need to get his phone back from the ghoul before popping him, though.

  “Are you done texting my wife?” Derek reached over his knife arm with his left hand and wiggled his fingers. “Give me back my phone.”

  Billy sniffed and dropped the device onto his palm. “Didn’t melt a thing.” He sighed as a pathetically dreamy smile revealed his gleaming, razor-sharp teeth.

  Thank all that was good in the universe Burners did not have pointy teeth. They were monsters enough as it was.

  Derek glanced at his phone. No smears, chips, or acid marks. “You have gained control?”

  Billy blinked but his dreamy look did not vanish. “Why’s she with him, huh?” He continued to babble about Ladon and Rysa’s relationship.

  “What did Rysa tell you?” Making him repeat Rysa’s commands would, Derek hoped, increase the Burner’s retention.

  “She said ‘Listen to Derek.’ She also said ‘Burn it to the ground.’” He clicked his teeth for emphasis.