Flames of Mars (Celestial Shifters Book 2)

by Tjalara Draper

  His golden-brown eyes met hers, and a slight smile played on his lips.

  After a heartbeat, Violet’s cheeks grew warm, and she broke eye contact. Damn that stupid thing where he can feel me looking at him. How long was I staring?

  She sank down in her seat as Nathan plonked two loaded plates of food onto the silky oak tabletop and sat down, leaving the spare seat next to Tio vacant. En’gorr still stood by the dining room doorway.

  “Sit. Have some food.” Nathan gestured to the unclaimed plate.

  En’gorr glanced back over his shoulder.

  “Your men will be fine,” Nathan said. “Dr. Dawn and her son will take good care of them.”

  En’gorr looked down at Nathan and only said, “Why?”

  Nathan frowned. “Why what?”

  En’gorr inclined his head in the direction of the infirmary. “Why help?”

  “To tell you the truth. I don’t actually know.” Nathan shrugged. “But what I do know is, whether Erathi, Veniri, or even Jiovis, it makes no difference to Dawn and her family. They’re good people.”

  Even Violet was still trying to figure Dawn out. Every time she learned something new about the shifter world, Dawn already knew ten times more—not to mention her in-depth medical knowledge of several shifter races.

  En’gorr just grunted in response as he scanned the table. His expression this time was different, almost inquisitive.

  “Come on, whaddya say?” Nathan pushed the plate of food a little closer to him.

  Again, the prince inclined his head toward the infirmary. “They eat.”

  “Don’t stress. I’ll ensure they’re fed once their treatments are done,” said Lazareth.

  After a second, the prince nodded and sat down next to Tio. His eyes landed on the orange spangle still sitting on the golden clutch by Autumn’s elbow.

  For the first time ever, Violet could have sworn Autumn’s cheeks developed a red hue. She held the spangle out to him. “I suppose I’d better return this.”

  En’gorr made no move to retrieve the spangle. Instead, he shook his head and spoke. Once again, Tio translated. “Too many of my men have died because of that thing. Either keep it or destroy it, but whatever you do, make sure Matthias Branstone never gets ahold of it.”

  Autumn hesitated before nodding and placing the spangle back on the clutch.

  Violet caught Nathan eyeing the orange disc, his brow wrinkled in thought. For a moment, he looked as if he was about to say something, but then he shook his head slightly and turned his attention back to En’gorr.

  “Hungry?” Nathan held out a knife and fork, but En’gorr pushed them away with a grunt. Violet watched in awe as En’gorr’s arm hazed into a metallic gold, and he pressed his unshifted hand into the gold skin as if it were made of cookie dough. After pinching off a small handful, he fashioned a golden set of utensils from the malleable flesh, then stabbed at his food with his brand-new fork.

  “Like I said earlier,” Tio said to Nathan, his expression apologetic. “My brother is kind of an old-school Jiovis. Using someone else’s eating utensils is usually against our customs.”

  “Oh,” said Nathan with raised eyebrows, still holding the disapproved cutlery.

  Autumn wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know if that’s really cool or really gross.”

  “How come I’ve never seen you make your own cutlery, Tio?” Thane asked.

  Tio shrugged. “Maybe I’m just too lazy.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying,” Thane continued, “even though you’re brothers, I can’t help but notice there’s a big difference between you two.”

  Tio nodded, then shot a glance at En’gorr. “Being the crown prince, En’gorr didn’t have as much freedom as me. I wasn’t under the microscope as much as he was.”

  En’gorr grunted a few Jiovis words, seemingly in agreement.

  “Our parents made sure En’gorr’s childhood was focused on politics, dining etiquette, war strategies—basically, anything that wasn’t focused on training him to be the next mighty ruler of our race was considered a waste of time. As for me, I was brought up by my nanny, who had what some might call an unhealthy fascination with the Erathi. I was practically raised on cheeseburgers, Erathi pop culture, and Friends reruns. My nanny didn’t really prioritize the ancient traditions of our culture.”

  “Friends reruns, huh?” Autumn quirked an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, that’s where I learned most of my English,” said Tio with a grin. “Out of the seven languages my brother knows, English is his newest addition. He can understand most of what you guys say, but he’s still in the early stages of speaking it. That’s why he makes me translate for him.”

  En’gorr rounded a flinty glare on his brother and said something in a sharp, reproving tone. Thane and Sagan shared a glance, and Thane covered a grin with his hand.

  Tio scowled at En’gorr, who had resumed eating his dinner, then grabbed his empty dessert bowl and stood up. “I’m gonna get a second serving of cheesecake. Anyone else want some?”

  Both Sagan and Thane threw their hands up, and Nathan demanded there be some left over once he finished his dinner.

  Tio placed bowls of dessert in front of Thane, Sagan, and himself, then grabbed a can of whipped cream from the fridge. The three passed the can around, each swirling ample mounds on top of their cheesecakes. En’gorr looked on with interest. Before Tio was half-finished with his own dollop of sweetness, the can was snatched out of his hand.

  Ignoring Tio’s protests, En’gorr turned the can over and studied it from every angle, then upended it and sprayed a small dot onto his mashed potatoes. By the time the Jiovis prince scooped up a forkful of mashed potato and cream, all eyes were glued on him.

  Everyone watched with building tension as En’gorr’s eyes grew wide. Then in a flash, the whipped cream can was back in his hand, and everything on his plate swiftly became coated in a thick layer of white: the honeyed carrots, the slow-cooked pork belly, the sesame chicken salad, the mixed green and cucumber salad with ginger yogurt . . .

  “I’ve never seen anything like that in my life,” said Autumn.

  Violet couldn’t stop staring. “Neither have I.”

  A chorus of chuckles went up from the table before everyone returned to their meals. Only Tio didn’t join in; he glared daggers at his brother and shook the now empty can in irritation. “Gee, thanks, bro. Next time you may as well chug it straight from the can.”

  En’gorr responded in Jiovis, and Tio rolled his eyes as Thane chuckled again.

  “What did he say?” Violet asked.

  “A Jiovis version of ‘challenge accepted,’” Thane answered.

  After a few minutes, Lazareth left to take some meals to Dawn and the others, and Autumn pulled out her laptop. Before long, she and Tio had their heads bent together, quietly discussing some new hacking strategy.

  Gus joined the group just as Nathan and En’gorr were finishing up their own helpings of dessert. Unimpressed with finding only a tiny sliver of his dad’s cheesecake left, he compensated by retrieving some apple crumble with ice cream and a new can of whipped cream. En’gorr’s eyes lit up, and he eyeballed the can until Autumn finally said, “You’d better give it to him, Gus.”

  Gus reluctantly handed over the can, then watched in slack-jawed shock as En’gorr downed the contents.

  “So, how are the patients?” Nathan inquired.

  “Fine,” Gus said around a mouthful of dessert. “The shifter who collapsed, um . . . what was his name?”

  “Urg’vhul,” said Tio. “Not to be confused with his twin brother, Tyor’vhul, the other pewter shifter.”

  “Er, yeah.” Gus winced. “Anyway, he’s now stable, all tucked up and sleeping. The others are resting too. They took a bit of convincing to change back into human form—treatment’s easier without all the metal plates and blades all over their bodies—but Mom’s pretty good at getting her own way.” He turned to En’gorr and patted the regal man’s shoulder. “What a
bout you, buddy? Your guys have all been tended to. We should get you to the infirmary to see if you need any treatment.”

  En’gorr Droth glared at the offending hand on his shoulder, and Gus removed it to gesture to the doorway.

  “No,” said En’gorr, then tilted his head back and sprayed whipped cream into his mouth.

  Tio dropped his face into his palm and mumbled under his breath—something about regretting bringing out the cream in the first place.

  “How long until the other Jiovis shifters recover?” Sagan asked.

  “Don’t know for sure. Mom’s worried about Urrrg . . . um . . .” Gus turned hopelessly to Tio.

  “Urg’vhul.”

  Gus nodded. “Right. Mom thinks it’s best to keep an eye on him for a few days.”

  “No,” said En’gorr.

  All heads turned to him.

  En’gorr patted a fist on his chest. “Jiovis strong. Leave at sunrise.” He raised the can to his mouth again, and a hiss of frothing cream filled the ensuing silence.

  Tio and Autumn exchanged a look.

  “Looks like I’m pulling an all-nighter to get you guys prepared before I leave,” Tio said with a burdened sigh.

  En’gorr looked over at him and said something in Jiovis, and Tio replied in the same tongue, gesturing to the laptop. The two conversed as En’gorr looked at the screen, then he barked a phrase that startled everyone at the table.

  “Seen this.” En’gorr pointed to the screen.

  Tio looked at him in confusion. “That’s the Xabat Biogenetics logo. You’ve seen this logo before?”

  His brother nodded. “Erathi have on clothes. On cars. On boxes.”

  “Boxes?” cut in Sagan.

  En’gorr’s eyes narrowed. “Alive Jiovis. Not escaped. Put in metal boxes.”

  Thane hissed out a breath and turned to Sagan. “What does that mean? I thought he said it was your father who led the attack?”

  Sagan frowned, clutching the black chain around his neck that peeked above his shirt collar. “It sounds like my father and my grandfather might have called a truce.”

  “And that En’gorr’s men have become the new lab rats for Xabat Biogenetics,” added Autumn.

  Tio and En’gorr had been conversing in their own tongue while the others were talking. When En’gorr turned his attention to Violet, flashbacks of his meaty hands pinning her shoulders to the ground made her stiffen. She couldn’t stop herself from slowly reaching for the switchblade nestled in her jeans pocket.

  “Your baby.” He pointed to Tio’s laptop. “They take?”

  A pang of grief stabbed through Violet’s chest. “Yes.”

  With a decisive nod, En’gorr stood up, the wooden chair legs screeching along the floor. “Xabat kill my warriors. They take your baby.” His lip curled in a snarl. “We kill Xabat.”

  It took Violet a while to settle into the idea of En’gorr’s involvement in the rescue mission, even after Tio explained that his brother had a sacred duty to avenge his slain warriors. Nathan, Thane, and even Sagan were just as shocked at the Jiovis prince’s involvement. Apparently, it was rare for shifter races to intermingle, let alone work together. The fissures between the races ran too deep. Yet here they were: Veniri, Jiovis, Erathi, a hunter, and who knows what Violet was now, all working together.

  Sagan’s family—and by extension, Xabat Biogenetics—had caused too much damage for too many shifters. Now, the damaged were banding together.

  Even Autumn seemed to be warming up to the Jiovis prince. He usually had a lost-puppy expression when Violet caught him staring after Autumn, but he must have said or done something to win her over, because Violet noticed them huddled together in deep conversation more than once.

  As for the rest of the group, morale was pretty decent, even though they were up to their eyeballs in planning Solace’s rescue mission. Autumn and Tio were the masterminds, constantly clack-clacking on their computers, working their magic to ensure everything fell into place.

  At first, the plan had seemed ludicrous, even with the staff IDs, makeshift uniforms, hazmat suits, cliché hacker’s van, second transport vehicle, and ongoing training sessions. But after hours of weeding out as many hypothetical problems as possible, Violet was beginning to believe they had a solid chance of retrieving Solace and safely escaping Xabat Biogenetics . . . at least in theory.

  Two nights after the Jiovis shifters arrived—on the two-week anniversary of Solace’s kidnapping—the team decided they were ready.

  Violet sat waiting in the back of a Chevy Impala, impatiently bouncing her knees. “What’s taking them so long? How much more stuff can they fit in that van?”

  “No idea,” Sagan said from the driver’s seat. Va’atuu, the copper Jiovis shifter, was in the passenger seat. He didn’t bother answering, or even acknowledge she’d spoken.

  Violet stifled a groan and threw her head back against the headrest. “This is crazy. Tell me honestly, Sagan, do you think we’ll succeed this time?”

  He swiveled in his seat to face her. “One thing I know for sure is that we’ll all do our damndest to get Solace safely out of there.”

  Violet gnawed on her lip. He hadn’t really answered her question, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for his honest answer.

  “You know, I envy Solace,” Sagan said quietly.

  “Envy?” Violet frowned.

  “Yeah. She’s been taken from you, but no matter what, every decision you’ve made, whether good or bad, has been aimed toward getting her back.” He heaved in a deep breath and stared into the blackness beyond the car window. “My mother disappeared when I was a kid, and if I were to believe what I’ve been told, she abandoned me. But I would do anything—I would ransom the world—if it meant I could have my mother back.”

  After a few beats of silence, Violet said, “Thank you. I’m grateful to have you here. And if it means anything, I hope you find your mother one day.”

  Sagan gave her a small smile and turned back to face the front.

  Another minute or two passed, and Violet was once again finding it difficult to keep her fear at bay. Tonight. There was a chance she was going to see her baby tonight. She needed to go, to shout at Sagan to start the car. Now! Before her head exploded with gruesome what-ifs and images of failed scenarios.

  Her breathing quickened, and her fingers drummed faster and faster on her thighs. She needed to calm down. She needed something to take her mind off things.

  Forcing her thoughts away from the spiraling worry, she began to recall her last few training sessions with Nathan. As per her request, they had been working on light forging. In Violet’s unshakable opinion, that female Magneii’s light-forging ability had been the key to kidnapping Solace. Violet could still feel the constricting grip of the whip that had stopped her from saving her baby.

  Focus! She held up her hand, and the moon’s dim light glinted off her fingertips. She couldn’t see either Venus or Mars in the sky tonight, but closing her eyes, she was still able to tune in to what Nathan called “the melody.”

  Her breathing began to slow as she tapped into the energy emitting from both planets, narrowing her attention on the center of her cupped hand. Nathan’s calm instructions echoed in her mind. The first step was to focus on the beam of light itself, then concentrate the light into a tangible mass.

  A small glowing dot of marbled teal and magenta began to hover several inches above her palm. Violet’s temples started to prickle with sweat as the tiny mass grew to the size of a pea, then a grape. A bead of moisture rolled down the side of her face just as it reached the size of an apple.

  She released a slow breath and gently rolled her stiff shoulders. Gathering the first bit of tangible light was the hardest step. The next few phases of light forging came a little easier, especially since she’d been using every spare moment to practice. She had a jar full of light-forged pebbles and oblong shapes back home to prove it.

  But the uber complex shapes of weapons, swords, knives, or w
hips still presented a challenge. Apparently, one could also forge the likes of a gun, but without gunpowder, such a thing would only be useful as a paperweight.

  With all the extra training she’d been doing on her own, Violet could now make a twenty-sided polyhedron without too much thought. She’d essentially mastered the basics; the next step was to experiment.

  An image formed in her mind, and the floating polyhedron of light began to elongate and flatten, its edges sharpening until the ethereal bundle resembled a throwing knife. Once her forging was complete, Violet studied her work, marveling at the marbled pattern of glowing teal and magenta along the blade.

  Hmm . . . I wonder . . .

  She focused again on a new image, and a second passed before the throwing knife began to split in two. Finally, she had a teal blade and a magenta blade rotating around each other above her palm.

  “You’re really good at that,” said Thane.

  Violet flinched and whipped her head toward his voice. In the same instant, the two blades hurtled in his direction. He managed to dodge just in time, and the knives embedded themselves in the half-open car door with a loud thwunk.

  “What was that?” Sagan asked. Both he and Va’atuu turned around in their seats.

  “Um . . .” began Violet.

  Thane’s face appeared in the doorway, his wide eyes darting between Violet and the knives in the door. After a moment, his expression turned apologetic. “Sorry, there’s no room in the van. The other three Jiovis shifters took the spare seats in the back, but”—he looked again at the light-forged blades—“I can go see if someone wants to swap.”

  “Too late,” said Sagan. “The van’s already leaving.”

  He was right. As the van pulled past, Violet caught sight of Nathan in the driver’s seat and Gus and Autumn in the two passenger seats.

  Sagan started the car. “Get in, Thane.”

  Thane hesitated for half a second before sliding in next to Violet. As soon as he was inside, Sagan revved the Chevy’s engine and raced after the van.