Love of A Dragon (Exalted Dragons Book 1)

by K. T. Stryker

  “If we think like that, we’re screwed,” Presten said, glaring at Ava. “Oz, open up the trapdoor, why don’t you?”

  Oz pulled the trapdoor open forcibly, all four of them climbing down to the cellar. “Wait, let me go first,” he said, motioning for Isabel to stay away. She wondered whether he still cared about her like she did about him, and deep down, she knew he did. Oz landed on his feet in the cellar. His nose crinkled at the smell, which must have resulted from the vampires being in there for so long without having a bathroom. Oz’s eyes darted from one ashen face to the other, and it was only then that he realized trying to question these fallen creatures was a lost cause. “Hey, check this out,” he said. The others landed on their feet next to him, their faces drooping to a scowl as soon as they caught the stench that was slowly diffusing to the top floor.

  “That’s nasty,” Isabel said, her wrinkling her nose. She spotted Gavin in the corner. He looked just as tired as the rest of them. Asleep on his back, his wings were spread out to his sides. Isabel caught a glimpse of his chest slowly rising and falling and she breathed a sigh of relief. He was still alive. The fact that she felt such relief, though, made her question everything; it scared her shitless. Did she still care about Gavin? If he belonged to the enemy, then why should she care if he lived or died? The thoughts were driving her crazy, but right now, she knew she had to stay focused. “I don’t think we can question them right now,” she murmured to the others, watching as the vampires winced at the soft rays of light coming in through the trapdoor. “We’re just making them weaker… we can’t kill them, that’s not what we want. We want information.”

  “You’re right,” Presten said, nodding. “I think we need to get them fed— that is, if we want to get something out of them.”

  “I’ll go get it,” Ava said. Isabel walked over to Gavin, not taking her eyes off him. Oh, how the times have changed, she thought to herself.

  “I heard that,” Gavin said, opening his eyes. Isabel froze. “I can still read your memory, you know… I created you, remember?” Suddenly she felt her heart drop to her knees. Was she never going to get rid of him? Even at his weakest moment, Gavin was still menacing, still annoying. Now Isabel just wanted to see him dead, as cruel as that sounded. She pretended not to hear him, but he was persistent. “You’re never going to get rid of me,” he said, smiling slowly. He closed his eyes and froze in the same position as before, not caring to roll over. He had been lying on his back since the night before; his lips were chapped and his face was an ashen white. Isabel wondered how much longer he still had to live. She fetishized starving him to death; at that point, Gavin was just a menace, something that reminded her of how weak she was, how incompetent. But she couldn’t let him get to her. She couldn’t let him win. She stomped one foot against the floor and looked him in the eyes.

  “I’m going to block you out, you won’t know how to get to me anymore,” she said, her jaw clenched. Gavin just stared at her and grimaced. “You look like you want to say something,” Isabel said, leaning in close to him. Gavin didn’t threaten her anymore, or at least, she was getting used to the idea that she was hundreds of times stronger than he was.

  “I, I,” he breathed. The corners of his mouth looked as though they had been glued together and he was left mumbling words that even Isabel could not understand. He closed his eyes and stiffened back into his initial position. A smile settled over Isabel’s face; she was in control again.

  “I’m back,” Ava said, her legs appearing through the trapdoor. She carried three trays of food, not nearly enough to suffice for the number of hostages trapped inside the cells. She walked over to Isabel, trying not to drop anything. “This should get ‘em talking,” she said, her lips curving to the contended maw of a wolf after feasting on a fallen elk. There was a sudden movement in the cells. It was like the vampires could smell the food and they flinched awake one by one, trying to sniff for anything to eat. They gawked at Ava hungrily, their eyes darting from her face, to the plates of food, and then to her face again. If she wasn’t mistaken, they looked like they were about to bite her face off.

  “I think we’re going to need more food than just that if we’re going to feed them all,” Presten said matter-of-factly.

  “I don’t see you moving,” Ava said bitterly. “The kitchen’s up there.”

  Presten smiled to himself. “You’re a sassy one, aren’t you?” he muttered. “Isabel, would you like to come with me?”

  “Sure,” she said, averting her gaze to Oz, who nodded at her. Presten hopped out of the basement first, reaching his hand back to Isabel so he could pull her out with him. “Do you know exactly where the kitchen is?” Isabel asked, staring somewhere over Presten’s shoulder. The place was totally unfamiliar to her, which, in some ways, she found to be extremely unsettling.

  “Ava said it’s a few floors above,” Presten said. “I guess we’re going to have to find out.” They made their way up the stairs, which seemed to spiral forever. It was awfully quiet and Isabel thought something would jump out at them at any second. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you… how old are you?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  “Twenty-four,” Isabel said without giving it much thought.

  “No, how old are you?” Presten asked, popping his neck forward.

  “Oh,” Isabel said, her eyebrows furrowed. “In succubus years?” Presten nodded. “Around six months,” she smiled, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

  “Me, too,” Presten said, tilting his head sideways. Their heels clicked against the hardwood floor, the silence of the halls even more smothering than before. Isabel opened her mouth to speak but no words came out; a familiar feeling was trickling through her, the feeling of hunger. This past week has been nothing but overwhelming for her and for the first time in days Isabel was able to bask in the silence. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to make conversation with Presten, but she was exhausted. “We’re both pretty new to this, I would say,” he said again, turning to look at her.

  Isabel noticed his eyes. They were deep, electrifying, even, and for some reason she couldn’t stop staring at them. “I would say we are,” she said, holding his gaze for a second before she looked away. “How did you feel when you first found out?” she asked.

  There was a pause. “I found it to be quite hilarious, to tell you the truth,” he said. “It was Rene, my maker, who told me. My first reaction was; I fuck two girls on one night and I get this?”

  Isabel chuckled. “I felt the same way,” she said. “Although, I felt like something about me was different… I knew something was terribly wrong.”

  “Terribly wrong… or undeniably right?” he asked.

  “You know, even after all this time, I really can’t tell you,” Isabel said, shaking her head.

  “You’re a very special creature, Isabel,” Presten said. “You’re the type they hear about in legends.”

  “And so are you, I’m assuming?” she asked, her head cocked to the side. At that point, they were just pacing the halls. Isabel wondered if Presten had forgotten about the task at hand.

  “No,” Presten shook his head. “You’re different. In mythology, women are portrayed as goddesses, because they are.” Isabel could tell he was flirting.

  “You flatter me,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes. Presten couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic.

  “You’re really hard to tap into, you know that?” he asked. There was a pause.

  “You know, in this world, it’s really hard to know who you can trust,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, I know I can trust you, or else we wouldn’t be here… but I’ve been through hell trying to figure out who was on my side and who wasn’t. So I’m careful now.”

  “You have every right,” Presten said, his eyes roaming her face and neck as they walked. “It’s hard to tell who you’re talking to, let alone figure out who’s on your side.”

  “Yes!” Isabel jumped. “The shapeshifters, Presten, oh, the shapeshifters
!”

  “Have you encountered any recently?”

  “Let’s just say… I’ve spent a considerable amount of time sleeping with the enemy without even knowing it,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him.

  Presten shook his head. “That sounds horrible,” he admitted. “What if I told you Rene, my maker, turned her back on us all and joined the vampire council?”

  “What?” Isabel asked, her eyes wide as a set of plates.

  Presten nodded. “She’s really close with… the King vampire, if you’ve heard of him.”

  “I’ve heard stories,” Isabel said. “But I’m not sure—”

  “Oh, hey, there’s the kitchen,” Presten said, sprinting for the door. He pushed it open and flicked on the lights, his eyes travelling up and down the black decaying walls. This mansion was nowhere near as fancy or luxurious as the last one. Isabel stepped inside, and could immediately feel the cold air envelope her entire body. Splotches of the original paint hinted at the house’s former prosperity; has this one caught fire, too?

  “Well, this is definitely spooky,” Isabel said, her arms folded across her chest. The windows were covered with grime and dirt, and a large jagged hole dug through the wall as though daring anyone to enter. “Let’s just get this over with,” Presten said, walking over to the fridge door and swung it open. Oddly enough, it was filled to the brim with food. Together, they took out some fruit, a jug of water and some leftovers, and soon enough, they were on their way back down. As they walked, Isabel became more and more certain that the mansion was filled with secrets, and she was adamant she would find them out. The corridors seemed to stretch out indefinitely, and she knew that if she were to unlock a single one of the doors, she would be opening up the gates to a never-ending maze of halls and passageways. “Do you want to come back and check this place out?” she asked Presten, a smirk on her face.

  “Do you really think we should be loitering around here?” Presten asked.

  “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?” Isabel asked, strutting down the hallway. “Seriously, though, we kind of need to figure out the anatomy of this place if we’re ever going to carry on this battle.”

  There was a pause. “You’re absolutely right,” Presten said. They climbed down the trapdoor leading to the cellar. “This should last them the night,” Presten said, setting the food down on the floor in front of the hostages. They eyed him hungrily, as if ready to pounce at any second.

  “I think you’re going to have to go back for more,” Oz said.

  Presten opened his mouth to protest but before he could, Isabel stopped him. “We’re on it,” she said, cocking her head to the side. She and Presten exchanged brief glances, and it was only then that he realized Isabel wanted to go on an adventure.

  “We’ll be back in a second,” he said with a smirk.

  CHAPTER 3

  “So, do you know anything about this mansion?” Isabel asked, looking around curiously once they were alone.

  “I’ve been here quite a lot,” Presten said. “It was never the most pleasant experience… they tried to hold me hostage here, more than once, but I always managed to escape.”

  “Do you think Analise and Gavin have rooms in here?” she asked, ignoring his moment of triumph.

  “They do,” he said mischievously. “What, you think you’re the only one here up for an adventure?”

  Isabel smiled and followed him. He took a right and headed down one of the corridors, surveying one decaying door after the other. “I don’t know everything in this mansion, but this, I know,” he said, standing in front a pair of swinging doors at the far end of the hallway. Isabel pushed one of them and they begrudgingly creaked open. A musty, dank stench travelled up her nostrils. The house was dead silence except for the intermittent creaks and moans that echoed everywhere as they walked across the floorboards. Black and brown mold dotted the ceiling in clusters, evidence of rain seeping through the roof. “So, what are we looking at?” Isabel asked, her nose wrinkled.

  “Gavin’s room,” Presten replied.

  Isabel felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Finally it settled with her that Gavin had this whole other life, a life she knew nothing about. She walked across the suite, looking at the musty walls. “This room’s too shabby to be Gavin’s room,” she said, rather to herself.

  “I wasn’t allowed to enter,” Presten said. “I only caught glimpses.”

  Isabel stopped when she noticed a closet at the far end of the suite. She walked over to it, swung it open and started searching through Gavin’s clothes. Suddenly her sleeve got hooked on something and she let out a gasp. It was a doorknob. “Presten, check this out,” she hissed, motioning for him to join her. Presten crept up behind her, and as soon as she felt him brush up on her back, an electric current flowed through her.

  “What is it?” he asked, leaning in close to her ear. Isabel would have liked to let him take her right then and there, but she was wise enough to know that this little discovery of hers was much, much more important.

  “It’s a doorknob,” she said. “But the door’s locked.” The both of them sighed in frustration, and then, desperately, Isabel started searching for the key in the pockets of Gavin’s clothes. “It’s not there,” she said, clenching her eyes. “What do you think it is?”

  “I don’t know,” Presten said, his eyebrows furrowed. “I think we might find the key somewhere around here,” he continued, looking around the room. He probed near the bedside table, pulling its drawers open and searching inside. Nothing. “Gavin probably has it,” he said.

  “No, it might be lying around here,” Isabel said, her voice stern. “We need to find it, who knows what could be in there?”

  They must have spent an hour searching. Isabel flipped the mattress over, crawled under the bed and ripped the pillow sacks apart, but still, she found nothing. She rose to her feet and clasped her hands behind her head. This was hopeless. “Oh my God,” she said. “I’ve never been so frustrated in my life.”

  “Hey, come look at this,” Presten said. Isabel jumped to where he was, and when she realized he was holding a pair of books, she snatched them from him. “I see you’re excited,” he said, rolling his eyes at her. He was beginning to think Isabel was a little controlling. She realized it herself, not that she was apologetic about it.

  “Oh my God,” she said, flipping through the pages. She closed the leather-bound book and stared at its cover. “No title,” she said, opening it up again and beginning to skim through its pages. What she saw shocked her. “Hey, Presten, d’you think this is Gavin’s handwriting?” she asked, her eyes darting from Presten, to the squiggly pen lines, and then to Presten again.

  “I am absolutely certain of it,” he said.

  “How can you be so sure, though?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

  “Isabel, we’re in Gavin’s room, this is his study,” Presten said. “Who else’s handwriting would it be?”

  “Yeah, that makes sense,” Isabel said, her eyes fixated on the lines of writing. They were awfully hard to decipher. “Alright, this is going to need some looking into,” she said, closing the book and tucking it under her arm. “Let’s save it for later.”

  “Are you sure you wanna do that?” Presten asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “I, personally, have never been more curious.”

  “I’m even more curious to see what’s behind that door,” Isabel said, ignoring him. She scanned the room one last time before she pounced on the bed again and started tucking her hands underneath the mattress.

  “We’ve already looked there,” Presten said, heading for the coatrack. “Maybe it’s in one of those pockets,” he said.

  “Did you find anything?” Isabel asked impatiently as he finished searching the pockets.

  “No, nothing.”

  “This is hopeless.”

  Isabel clasped her hands behind her head again and started pacing the room. Deep down, she knew they wouldn’t find anything. Gavin was
smarter than that; he wouldn’t leave an important key lying around like that for anyone to find. He must’ve taken it with him. She thought about ambushing him in the cells, but she knew that was a horrible idea. He would probably resist with so much force that even Isabel wouldn’t be able to stop him.

  “I think we should call it a day,” she said finally.

  “I think so, too,” Presten said, his eyes fixated on the chipped walls. “Besides, this room is giving me the creeps.”

  “Let’s just head back down,” Isabel said. “But we’re going to come back, and we’re going to find that key.”

  “Tomorrow morning?” Presten asked. Isabel nodded. “Just remember to take those books with you.”

  “I will,” she said, flashing Presten a smirk. “You don’t think I’m that forgetful, do you?” They headed for the door, but when Presten reached the end of the corridor, he was alone.