In mere seconds it was gone, and she looked up and saw what had passed. She saw, but she didn’t believe.
There making a slow banking turn in the sky, skimming the underbellies of the clouds and leaving a swirling trail in its wake, was a dragon.
Pure white, with silver-tipped wings and silver barbs along its tail, it was enormous but elegant, moving gracefully with powerful thrusts of its wings. Even from this distance she could see the creature’s vivid yellow-green eyes, the long, silky white mane along its neck, its muzzle full of razor-sharp teeth.
Magnus exhaled with a sound that was frustrated and aggravated in equal measure. He muttered, “Your sister has a real flare for the melodramatic.”
Lu rose, her gaze fixed on the horizon and the creature flying closer. Making, it appeared, a beeline in their direction. “Honor . . . that’s . . . I don’t . . .” She shook her head, too blank to respond.
Magnus had moved several steps away. He glanced at her, everything about his face and eyes now guarded, closed down. He said, “I suppose this would be as good a time as any for you to try it as well.”
“Try it?” Lu repeated, barely able to form the words as she watched the dragon fly closer and closer, its muzzle curling back in what looked like a grin.
“Flying, Lumina.”
Her head snapped around and she gaped at him. “What?”
He said, “From what I’ve seen, the flying itself is the easy part. It’s the landings that’ll give you some trouble.”
Then he walked away, and Lu was left standing alone as her sister the dragon began to descend.
FIFTEEN
Magnus had been right: Landing was a problem. The white dragon barreled down toward Lu, its wings pumping a furious backbeat as it attempted to slow itself. Legs out, talons extended, fangs bared, it made such a terrifying picture that Lu’s first and only thought was to bolt.
Lucky she did, because the dragon landed with a thunderous, ground-shaking boom in the exact spot she’d just been standing.
Crouched a few yards away, Lumina was pelted with clods of dirt and tufts of dislodged grass. She stood, brushing muck from the new outfit Morgan had given her, and stalked back to the dragon.
“Are you crazy?” she shouted at it. “What is your problem with me?”
The dragon folded its wings, shook back its mane from its face, and fixed her in its feral yellow-green gaze. With a derisive snort, it exhaled a chuff of white vapor and rose to its full height. Its powerful tail flicked out from behind it, lashing dangerously close to Lu’s legs.
Lu crossed her arms and straightened her spine. “I’m not afraid of you, and you only have yourself to thank for—”
The dragon opened its mouth and exhaled again, this time with a powerful blast of blue frosted air so cold it burned like fire.
When the air cleared, Lu was unscathed. Unfortunately, she was also naked. Her clothes had frozen solid, then been shorn away in tiny bits of scintillating fabric that floated gently down from the sky like snowflakes. Only her boots remained intact, and they were crusted in ice.
She felt all the eyes on her. She felt with acute humiliation the chill of the slight breeze on her naked stomach, buttocks, and thighs, the warmth of the sun on her shoulders. And from the corner of her vision she saw Magnus running toward her, tearing off his jacket and shirt.
The shirt off his back, she thought. That’s really sweet. Then she stalked over to the dragon and punched it in the face.
That was the first moment of what would become the most amazing hour of her life.
The dragon reacted by snapping its head to the side, but toward Lu, instead of away. It caught her in the ribcage and tossed her into the air where she sailed, spinning with her arms and legs flung wide, until it caught her on the back of an outstretched wing. Its pale flesh was tough but smooth, pearlescent in the sunlight, exuding heat, and as she stared down at the pattern of interlocking scales, she thought in grudging admiration, It’s actually kind of beautiful.
Then with a flick of its wing, the dragon sent Lu sailing into the air once again. She flew over its back and landed on the opposite wing with an audible oof!
Panting, she looked up to find the dragon staring at her over its shoulder, its long neck craned back, an expression in its reptilian eyes that was . . . smug.
It was toying with her.
Something inside of her just snapped.
Lu didn’t know exactly how it happened, but one minute she was screaming in impotent rage, pounding her fists on the unyielding hide of the dragon wing so hard her wrist popped, the next she was fifty feet in the air, looking down on the creature from above.
In an instant, everything was different. She was different. She inhaled, and felt the suck of air into massive lungs, smelled mice and voles and rabbits deep beneath the earth, tasted the sweet, ripe bite of an apple from some faraway, unseen tree on her tongue. She exhaled and from her mouth came a plume of smoke intermingled with an orange blaze of fire, and it was then that she realized what she’d done.
She’d Shifted. To dragon.
Holy. Shit!
And the most astonishing thing—aside from the sensation of wind beneath her wings, and the expressions on the faces of the group of people staring up at her wide-eyed and frozen from below—was that it was effortless. She knew she must be pumping her wings, but it felt as if she were standing still, floating, not flying. It felt as if feet and hands were things she’d learned how to use, cumbersome things in another cumbersome body, but wings and talons and smoke and fire were the way she was really meant to be.
As if she was, finally, wearing the right skin.
She banked and flew away with no more effort than a thought: left. Another, higher, and she’d punched through the damp, clinging density of the cloud cover. She bared her fangs, exulting in the sting of cold wind on her muzzle, the moisture beading mirrored drops along her mane, the wind a roaring hiss in her ears, and kept going.
Then she sliced through the top of the clouds like a scythe, and all was silent and still, the sky an endless sheer curtain of sapphire above.
Honor appeared a heartbeat later, winging around her in a loose spiral, grinning that beastly grin. Like I told Magnus, came the voice inside Lu’s mind, demonstrations are always more effective than conversations.
With that, Lu understood.
Are you always going to be this much of a pain in my ass? she answered back, flipping over to fly upside down, staring in awe at the vast nothingness of the atmosphere, stretching vapor thin and crystalline above. She noticed her wings were vermilion, the barbs along her tail and her talons a gleaming, beautiful gold.
That’s what older sisters are for, came the wry retort as Honor executed a breathtaking rolling dive, sunlight shining off her scales in blinding winks of silver. Lu righted herself and chased after Honor, finding a cold gust of wind that carried her closer.
Older? We’re twins!
I’m older by three minutes, baby sister. And a whole lot wiser. By the way, you hit like a girl. We’ll work on that.
Lu was momentarily too busy admiring how lean and strong Honor was as she flew to be angry. Her shape wasn’t the bulky, monstrous one she’d seen dragons depicted as having in old fairy tales. She was lithe and elegant, every movement a poem of economy, every stroke of her wings filled with grace. Up here in the heavens her sister was as luminous as a star, and, for the first time since meeting her, Lu felt a swelling rush of affection for this alabaster doppelganger with whom she shared nothing in common but her face.
Or so she’d thought. Watching Honor now, Lu had the distinct feeling there was so much more to her than that icy, aloof front she presented to the world.
I don’t know about wiser, but I’ll buy older, Lu thought. You really should think about investing in a good nighttime moisturizer, sister dear.
The tw
o dragons grinned at one another. Then in a move that to an observer would have looked perfectly coordinated, they pumped their wings and glided higher into the glimmering solitude of the morning sky.
“So she is as Gifted as Honor,” breathed Dash, so named for his Gift. Even in a colony of creatures that were preternaturally fast, his ability to run from one place to another, unseen because he moved so quickly, was unusual.
Standing beside Dash, Beckett said with authority, “No.” Everyone looked at him, including Magnus. Their eyes met, and Beckett said, “Hope is more Gifted.”
Magnus knew it was true, but it was the proprietary tone that riled him. Was meant to rile him. “She likes to be called Lumina,” he growled, staring at Beckett without blinking long enough that the younger man flushed and looked away.
“What do you mean, more Gifted?” asked Oz, cracking his knuckles and straining his neck to catch a glimpse of the two dragons, high up in the sky. His real name was Liam, but his affinity for the ancient heavy metal band Black Sabbath and its dove-decapitating lead singer, Ozzy Osbourne, had earned him the moniker. Beckett had hacked into the database of a pre-Flash rock-and-roll station once and made the mistake of letting Liam browse the MP3 files. The rest was history. Magnus couldn’t count how many times the strains of “The Wizard” and “Paranoid” had blasted through the caves.
Now gazing into the heavens, Beckett said, “Just what I said. Hope is stronger. I can feel it.”
I’ll just bet you can, thought Magnus, and enjoyed a fleeting image of himself bashing Beckett’s perfect head into the large rock several feet behind him.
The group sensed his anger, and began to look nervous, which was wise; things tended to bleed when Magnus got angry. Though he was Alpha and they should have respected him simply for being more Gifted than the rest of the tribe—with the exception of Honor and now Lumina—it was his temper that really kept everyone in check. If only he could keep himself in check.
The heavy bag could only take so many beatings before Magnus needed other outlets.
But he didn’t need a fight now. What he needed was to burn the image of a gloriously naked Lumina from his mind.
His heart had stopped when he’d seen her standing there wreathed in vapor, her pale skin gleaming in the sunlight, pieces of her ruined clothing drifting like frozen confetti all around her. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one; Beckett, Dash, and Oz had all gone bug-eyed, too.
But only Beckett had lit up like a sunrise, bathing them all in a burst of evanescence that felt dirty for all its shiny brightness.
He was really starting to hate that kid.
Magnus had never before been touched by jealousy’s cold green fingers, but he wasn’t going to lie to himself about it; irrational as it was, jealousy was the correct term for the emotion eating a hole in his guts and burning like acid through his veins. Along with a host of other emotions, he felt protective of Lumina, and he couldn’t stand that look in Beckett’s eyes. That possessive, greedy look.
The one he was sure was identical to his own.
She’s better off with the pretty boy than with a busted-up bastard like you, whispered a little voice of reason inside his head.
With an ache inside his chest that felt carnivorous, Magnus watched the two dragons soar for another moment, wishing with all that was left of his mangled heart that he was even half the man he used to be. Half might have been enough to offer, enough to have allowed him some self-respect. But he wasn’t that man, even by half. He was a ghost. An angry poltergeist, haunting the ruins of his former life.
He wasn’t worthy. Not of her.
Without another word to the group, Magnus turned and walked away.
Honor led, and Lumina followed. For an hour they flew together, far above steaming fields and a sprinkling of deserted, crumbling villages, past the spidery, pale veins of empty roads, the horizon bleeding into a purple curve where earth met sky ahead. The wind was a roar when they changed directions, but when they rode along with it, letting it carry them aloft like untethered kites, there was the most beautiful stillness, and for the first time she could remember, Lu felt peace.
As she flew, her mind kept returning to the memory of Magnus running toward her, tearing his jacket and shirt off, his expression a mix of cold fury and hot intensity, his chest, arms, and stomach completely bare.
He was muscular, well-formed, but far too lean for a man his size. Every muscle was visible beneath his skin, every vein in his arms was outlined in stark relief. She wanted to cook him a meal, and sit and watch him eat it. She wanted to feed him from her fingers, and watch that dark heat always smoldering in his eyes flare into a blaze.
She wanted to run her hands over every scar on his body, pressing soft kisses to each one with her lips.
It was bad, whatever had hurt him. From waist to face his right side was a mess, and she knew the hooded jacket he wore over his shirt was due to shame from his appearance. But he hadn’t even hesitated to bare himself so he could cover her. He hadn’t thought of himself.
Suddenly needing to see him again, Lu said to Honor, I’m getting tired. Let’s go back.
Honor peered at her with slitted eyes, a wingspan away. If she suspected that was only partly true, she didn’t let on. Instead, she banked and Lu followed, and soon they were headed toward a grove of trees close to the entrance to the caves.
They landed near a rocky outcropping with such a total lack of grace both of them were laughing when they Shifted back to human form. Honor touched down first, gouging a deep, ragged furrow in the earth behind her, and Lu came in too fast and executed the most awkward belly flop, accompanied by a face plant directly into the dirt. In the trees nearby, a flock of swallows rose in a sudden tangle of quicksilver into the sky.
“I wish I had a camera so you could see the look on your face.” Honor had Shifted back to woman and was walking toward a small pile of clothing atop a rock. She dressed quickly, still chuckling, and gestured to what she hadn’t donned. “These are for you; I thought you might be needing something to wear, and we’re the same size, so . . .”
Lu was cold, and feeling self-conscious at her nudity, even though it was only her and Honor in the clearing, so she pulled on the clothing Honor had brought as fast as she could. “Thanks. By the way, do your clothes have some kind of heat protectant or something?”
“No. Why?”
Lu shrugged, cinching the belted white jacket around her waist. It matched the white trousers, an exact replica of Honor’s outfit. She pulled on a pair of white boots, wondering if Honor realized no one would be able to tell them apart. And if that’s what she’d intended. “Because your clothes weren’t burned when I . . . uh . . . you know, in the cave yesterday. And Morgan’s were. And mine were, too, this morning when you decided to cold-roast me in front of everyone.” Her voice soured. “Thanks for that, by the way. Now everyone and his brother knows what I look like naked.”
Honor smirked. “You shouldn’t have punched me. And in answer to your question, you just don’t know how to control your Gifts yet. At least consciously; I’m sure if you hadn’t liked Morgan, much more than her clothing would have been burned with her standing so close to you when you lost it in the cave yesterday.”
Lu frowned, confused. “Okay, but I still don’t get how your clothes weren’t affected, and ours were.”
They turned and started to pick their way up the small hill of granite. The entrance to the caves was on the other side, along with Beckett and his group. Lu hadn’t seen Magnus anywhere when she and Honor were making their descent, and wondered if he’d returned to the caves.
Honor just sent her a mysterious smile and said, “It’s just a matter of awareness, of focus. With practice, you’ll be able to protect whatever you want from the effects of the Gifts.”
That sounded interesting. They walked a while in silence while Lu pondered it. “By the way, ho
w did you know getting me angry would make me Shift?”
“The first time I Shifted I was angry, too. I figured if it worked for me, it would work for you.”
“Really? What happened?”
In response to Lu’s question, Honor’s face flushed. Keeping her gaze averted, she said simply, “I saw something I didn’t like.”
Lu got the distinct feeling this was a topic of great importance for getting a better idea of what made Honor tick. Trying for an offhand tone, she asked, “Nothing too serious, I hope?”
They’d reached the crest of the hill, and Honor scanned the landscape below with a sharp eye. Her gaze fell on Beckett, playfully chasing Sayer around the trunk of a tree, and her lips thinned. “Not really, in the scheme of things. But to my ten-year-old self, it felt like the end of the world. The end of my world, anyway.”
Lu sensed the anger and pain behind those words, and knew instinctively Beckett was the cause. Taking a risk, she asked tentatively, “Does he know?”
Honor’s head whipped around, and she glared at her. “Even if he did, he wouldn’t care,” she hissed, two blotches of color staining her cheeks. “He doesn’t care about anything but himself!”
They stared at one another a moment, Lu watching as Honor struggled to compose herself. “But you care about him,” she said. “Don’t you?”
The ice was back in Honor’s eyes. The stone beneath their feet crackled with a thin gloss of frost. “Don’t ever say that to me again.”
Lu reached out for her sister’s arm. “Honor—”
“Shut your trap, Hope!” She shrugged off her touch, stepping back.
“Stop calling me Hope, will you? My name’s Lumina—”
Honor shouted, “You can call yourself Puff the Magic Dragon if you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that your name is HOPE!”
“Fine,” sighed Lu, tired of this. Would they always be fighting? “Please refer to me as Puff the Magic Dragon from now on. And I’ll call you Smaug.”
Into Darkness (A Night Prowler Novel) Page 15
