Leman

by Serena Akeroyd

  Leman

  Dragon Bound: Book Two

  Serena Akeroyd

  Copyright © 2019 by Serena Akeroyd

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Also by Serena Akeroyd

  So, Valentine’s Day is one of those holidays you either love or loathe. If you loathe it, then read on, and have a giggle. If you love it, then I’ll know you sigh over Georgios’s charming ways. ;)

  Remember, this is a soap opera-style series, so watch out for more holiday-themed tales that revolve around this particular universe.

  And, you’re going to see this in the book:

  If you’re curious, it’s the Orion constellation. You’ll learn why soon. ;)

  As always, thank you for your support. Without you guys, I couldn’t do any of this.

  Love

  Serena

  xoxo

  One

  “Do you admit to committing a treasonous offense, Sanguenna?”

  Lara wriggled her shoulders with unease.

  To tell the truth, or not to tell the truth, that was the question.

  She wrinkled her nose at the hush in the Vampire court. Everyone was waiting with bated breath for her to speak. To confirm or deny the rumors. Rumors that had led to her being dragged to the Vampire court’s secret location in Port Angeles.

  It felt like a witch-hunt, but the truth was she had committed a treasonous offense, and she’d do it again. But it wasn’t like she could admit to that, was it? If she did, they’d have her head on the chopping block before she could even flip them the bird. Weird thing was, Lara was pretty attached to her head, and she’d do whatever it took to keep it glued to her neck.

  “Sanguenna, do you admit to gifting nightwalker blood to a Shifter?”

  Suitable gasps of horror whipped around the court like a Mexican wave on steroids.

  Jesus, how had she gotten into this mess?

  She’d wanted to help. That’s all. But look what being helpful got her?

  The prospect of being left out in the sun, that’s what.

  A long, torturous death and all because a Wolf Pup hadn’t deserved to die thanks to a shameless attack from another Shifter. His uncle, of all people.

  Lara straightened her shoulders. “I committed no treasonous offense,” she stated, loud and clear. It was a lie, but it was also a half truth. If she didn’t believe it was treasonous, then it wasn’t, right?

  Or was that bizarre logic too complex for the dicks on the court to understand?

  Good thing they didn’t have access to her thoughts.

  A silence fell amid the audience, because that was exactly what they were. It wasn’t like they were watching a TV show being filmed with a live studio audience, but it might as well have been for all the entertainment the bastards were getting out of this.

  She’d even seen some kids in the crowd. Talk about a family night out!

  Come on, kids, let’s go and see the Sanguenna be sentenced to death.

  Talk about beating out Disney World for the ultimate night trip.

  The court was a grandiose affair. The judge sat on a throne, beside which was another throne. Though the latter was empty, it was where the Emperor sat, and as his right-hand man, the judge’s place, was at his side.

  Though the Emperor’s was larger, the judge’s was enormous. Like a wooden La-Z-Boy without the reclining option.

  Maybe that was why the judge had such a dour look on his face?

  The hard seat was giving him hemorrhoids.

  Well, that was if their kind could even get hemorrhoids.

  Huh. She’d have to ask Isabel. The only woman in her coven who was pregnant at the moment, and pregnant women always got hemorrhoids, didn’t they? At least, she thought they did. Well, that was what she’d heard over the years.

  Of course, that was if they’d even let her see Isabel before she was baked in the sun like cookie dough on a sheet pan.

  “Look, if that was all you wanted to ask me, I could have told you over the phone.” Lara knew it wasn’t wise to have an attitude, but she needed to brush this off. Take away the sting before it had the power to develop into a bad case of hives. “I have things I need to arrange in my coven, in Seattle. You are aware I have a pregnant nightwalker in my care, yes?”

  The judge narrowed his eyes. “Yes. I am aware of this situation.”

  Though she wanted to chivvy the dour Vampire along, she couldn’t. She just had to let him look at her like he was studying a piece of dog shit on his shoes.

  Maybe he’d look at a dog turd with kinder eyes… She wasn’t sure, but if her reminding him about Isabel didn’t hurry him along, then nothing would.

  There were two kinds of Vampires. Nightwalkers and daywalkers. The clues really were in the title. Some walked through the day, and others, like herself and Isabel, walked at night.

  A nightwalker was created from two Vampire parents. Didn’t matter if it was a day-daywalker combo or a night-daywalker mix, nightwalkers were always the end result. But, if either mated with a human, a daywalker was born.

  Vampire geneticists had yet to figure out why, but nightwalkers were hard to spawn. A set of Vampire mates found it difficult to conceive, with most pairs producing only one child if they were lucky.

  A human and a Vampire mate, on the other hand, could spawn many more. Five had been the most documented.

  Nightwalker pregnancies, as a result, were highly protected. Isabel was getting sick of being treated like glass, but it was just how it worked.

  It didn’t help that a nightwalker pregnancy lasted two months longer than a human-Vampire one. Isabel was about ready to shit a brick, but for Lara, that was to her benefit.

  The head of a coven was a beacon for all its members. As Sanguenna, she provided emotional succor, as well as physical protection. It took a long time for a coven to bind well together. If anything were to happen to Lara, while Isabel was still pregnant, she could lose the child. That was how important a coven leader was to its members.

  She had enough blood on her conscience that she didn’t need to bathe in anymore. But with nightwalker children being so rare and so precious, putting Lara’s life on the line would endanger Isabel and the babe too… She could only cross her fingers and hope that put an end to this interrogation.

  The judge started speaking, making her jump as he jolted her from her thoughts. His intoned, “Bring the child in,” had Lara closing her eyes as regret washed through her. Ducking her head, she whispered under her breath, “Fuck.”

  How had they gotten their hands on Max, dammit? She’d told him and his parents to hide out for the next six months. Not because she’d envisaged this particular fall out, but because Max’s uncle was still on the lookout for him.

  Where Wolves were concerned, Alphas were born not bred. Only one was born per generation within a Pack, and Max was his generation’s.

  Problem was, his uncle sensed Max was stronger than him, and that one day, Max would challenge him. He’d decided to do away with the threat while Max was still vulnerable.

  Had she done wrong? Giving blood to a wounded child? He’d bee
n on the brink of death. Only a nightwalker’s blood could have saved him.

  Was that really so fucking wrong?

  She heard feet being dragged against the stone cobbles of the court’s floor. She also heard grunts and bellows of pain as well as the rustling of clothes as Max, obviously pissed at being dragged toward Lara’s doom, did his best to escape their hold.

  She appreciated the gesture, but it was too late for that.

  The court was laid out like something from Henry the Eighth’s. A long, wide room. Tall ceilings with beams decorated with ghoulish faces carved into them. At the back and sides, courtiers stood and watched the proceedings.

  At the front, there were the thrones.

  She stood between the mass of people and the judge, an area no sane person wanted to ever stand, and unfortunately for Max, he was dragged to a halt beside her. Lara cast him a look and, then, saw the state of the guards who’d brought him to the hearing, and her nostrils flared wide in an attempt to stem the laughter that longed to fall from her—the guards were bruised and battered!

  Max had managed to bloody them several times.

  Oh, they’d heal within the hour, but that a child of nine had managed such damage spoke highly of the Alpha beast within Max’s body. The uncle was right to fear his nephew. Especially now. He’d pissed off the beast by attempting to kill Max. It was like rattling a hornet’s nest and not exterminating them immediately after.

  A very bad idea.

  Max growled at the guards as they backed away, wiping their bloody noses, and glowering at him all the while. After they disappeared, he looked up at her and shot her an apologetic glance.

  She tried to tell him that she understood, but it was hard to convey silently.

  Instead, she cleared her throat and turned back to the judge. He was an old bastard. Nearly six hundred years old and grumpy with it.

  All judges were old, but the older they were, the bigger hardasses they became.

  Sadly for her.

  “Boy, you are here to testify to this woman’s guilt.”

  “Or innocence,” Lara slotted in quickly, making the judge glare at her.

  “Or innocence,” he amended with a sneer.

  “My name’s Max,” Max retorted, putting his hands on his hips with a shamelessness that surprised even Lara, and she knew the boy. Knew how precocious he was.

  The kid wasn’t afraid. Not one bit at being surrounded by three thousand Vampires.

  Jesus, the kid had more cojones than some of the grown men in this chamber!

  “Answer the questions I present to you, Max.”

  “My mom says you should always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ after making a request of someone.”

  Judge Matterson’s jaw clenched, but otherwise, he ignored Max. “Do you know this woman?”

  “Yes. She’s the Sanguenna of the local coven in my town.”

  Matterson narrowed his eyes. “How do you know of her?”

  “Everyone knows Lara. She makes the best coffee in the state.” Which, for a kid born and raised in Seattle, was high praise indeed.

  Matterson frowned. “How do you know this?”

  “She has a coffee shop, and sometimes, she works as a barista.”

  Lara winced at the easy reply, and the ensuing roar that buzzed through the crowd. Hell, she thought it was a louder noise than the racket they’d made for the judge’s demand she admit to treason!

  Sanguennas managed. They directed. They led. They didn’t tend bar. They didn’t serve coffee. Certainly not to other supernaturals.

  Vampires believed they were the supreme paranormal creature.

  Her race’s arrogance knew no bounds.

  The judge turned his nose up at her, apparently dismissing her now he’d learned she served other supes and not the other way around.

  “How many coffee shops does your coven own?” he asked, surprising her with the personal question.

  The court never interfered in the night-to-night running of a coven, unless the taxes they demanded weren’t being paid. As that had never happened in her coven’s history, they’d had little reason to investigate.

  “Twelve,” she told him, her tone strident and proud. She saw no reason to act guilty. Sure, she was, but one man’s freedom fighter was another man’s terrorist, right?

  God, what had she come to if that was her go-to motto?

  “So many?” the judge asked, a scowl on his brow.

  She blew out a breath. “Yes. Twelve. As well as other businesses, like we have a specialty tea shop, and then we own the distribution company that provides both businesses with tea and coffee.”

  He blinked at her, and she just knew he was wondering if a woman could handle all that.

  There was the trouble with six hundred year old judges. They were sexist motherfuckers.

  “Is it true, Max, that you were recently attacked?”

  The kid narrowed his eyes and, at that moment, managed to look a lot older than nine. It was a bizarre scene. The nine year old batting for the three hundred year old before the man who’d seen six hundred years.

  She’d never imagined a pre-teen would be all that lay between her and execution.

  If she hadn’t stopped being Catholic a long time ago, she’d have been mumbling Psalms under her breath from the beginning of this court case.

  “Yes. I was injured. I am an Alpha. As is my uncle. He attacked me to lessen the threat to his leadership.”

  “And did you almost die?” the judge asked, his tone belonging to that of a coffee morning and not one that spoke of a child’s needless targeting by a man who should have been his protector.

  “I did.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Matterson pounced on the admission with an incredible lack of sympathy.

  “Good fortune was on my side.” Jeez, the kid’s maturity stunned her. He didn’t just sound believable, he was believable.

  Lady Gaga’s poker face had nothing on Max’s.

  “And that was all?” the judge peppered.

  Max nodded. “Of course. What else? My uncle thought he’d bitten my carotid.” He had. “But he didn’t. He nicked my throat, and I had a nasty bleed out, but nothing that a few shifts didn’t heal.”

  Shifters could revert from one form to another, if they were injured. The process sped up healing. The problem was, if they were too injured, they couldn’t muster up the energy to start the shift.

  Max had been so far beyond that point she hadn’t even been sure if her blood would help.

  Matterson pursed his thin lips. “Rumors from your pack spread to the Vampire court, Max. That’s how we know of this treasonous act.”

  “Supposed act,” Lara butted in, prompting a sneer out of Matterson.

  “Supposed,” he corrected again, bitterly this time.

  “My pack is run by a bully. Its council is nothing more than a bunch of nodding dogs, and the people within aren’t much better. If you listened to them, you might as well listen to the chatter of small children,” Max retorted, folding his arms across his chest.

  Lara had to give it to the kid; he was convincing. Even if he was negating his own words... What was he if not a small child?

  “You are certain this nightwalker has not come to your aid?”

  Max frowned. “Well, yeah, she has. I mean, there was the time my mom and I got separated at one of her coffee fairs, and I couldn’t find my mother. She helped me. Do you mean that?”

  Matterson sighed. “No. I did not mean that. I meant, has she ever given you blood?”

  Max pulled a face. “That’s gross. I wouldn’t take her stinking blood anyway. You guys are unnatural.” He huffed out his disgust, which was rather brave considering the umbrage of the crowd behind him. She wanted to help him, but God protect them both, there was no way she could defend him against these bastards.

  Eyes bulging in his outrage, Judge Matterson roared, “Take the child away.”

  “I want to see my mom,” Max called out when two gua
rds appeared once more. They started to drag him away, before she could do more than turn to watch him leave.

  He grunted, “You’ll see her, boy. She’s outside. Waiting.”

  After watching Max being hauled out of the audience chamber, kicking and screaming with each step even though he was no longer in any danger, Matterson hissed, but the sound was more annoyed than aggressive. That alone let her relax. He had no proof, and she could see the evidence of that written into every crevice of the man’s face. Max was most definitely lying, but Matterson’s superiority would never let him think that a Wolf Shifter could outwit him, and Lara had to admit that Max had been beyond convincing.

  She watched as the judge began to tap his fingers rhythmically against the wide armrest of his throne. From pointer to little finger, the cadenced move caught her attention.

  “It seems we have called you here for an inconsequential matter, Sanguenna.”

  Lara tried not to let her relief show on her face. She stemmed it by putting on an annoyed look and scowling at him. “I should think so, Judge Matterson. Next time, if you have any queries, feel free to call me.”

  The old man glared at her but waved a dismissive hand. She swallowed down her nerves, turned on her heel, and began to walk toward the crowd.

  She was on the receiving end of a lot of hissing from the three-thousand strong crowd—Vampire court was a huge bitch—but they let her pass unscathed.

  With each step she took, she felt sick with anxiety. A Vampire had feline qualities. She knew, because she possessed them herself. When a cat had a mouse within its grasp, it toyed with the small, piteous creature. Letting it think it could escape before putting a paw down and stopping it in its tracks. She was well aware that that could happen at any moment and that she’d been released without all the pomp and ceremony the court was renowned for.