Elena rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so obtuse. You’re going with the prince, Kiki. Omigod, isn’t he hot?”
“Hot head, yeah.”
Elena burst into laughter. “Careful, cuz. There’s a very fine line between hate and love.”
Kseniya gagged. “Love? With that idiot? Spare me!”
“Come on, he is good-looking.”
She huffed. Granted, yes—she had to admit that. All that running across tennis courts had also shaped a very sinful-looking physique from that six-foot-plus, massive body.
A commotion happened at the door to her room. She went and pulled it open, to find her mother on the other side.
“The Marekova’s envoy is here,” she said, her lower lip trembling.
Kseniya’s heart grew big. Her mother wasn’t being an over-the-top diva—she knew her daughter was walking into war … She reached out and clutched her parent to her. Her mother squeezed her to her bosom, then reluctantly let her go when Kseniya pulled away.
She had to do this. She was the only one who could. All her life, she’d wondered why Fate had decided for her to become a spy. Today, she knew the purpose. So she’d be prepared for this.
Everyone waited for her in a long, solemn line in the grand entrance hall when she came down the stairs, and without a word, she hugged her siblings, then her grandmother. On the steps of the front porch, her father and grandfather stood, and she let her father kiss her forehead and then she bowed to her grandfather, seeking his blessing for this journey.
They all let her go, though she heard soft sobs behind her as she moved away with the envoy from the Marekova. Some servants had brought the trunk down, and she saw it being carted away to a big SUV on the cleared road ahead of them. The grainy snow crunched under her foot, and in the reflection off the icy crystals, she could almost make out the shape of her mother collapsed in her father’s arms on the steps.
She bit her lip and didn’t turn around. She’d run to them if she did so. The supernatural world was counting on her to help. She couldn’t let them down.
Getting into the SUV, she put her thoughts on pause as they travelled a short distance to a spot halfway between the Sokolovas’ compound and the royal palace. Another SUV waited there, and the Crown Prince alighted from the vehicle once hers stopped. Konstantin Marek waited for them in the middle, and unbidden, they both went to him.
He nodded at them as they gathered close. “The two of you will need to fly over Shadow Bridge in your dragon form so the veil protecting the world from prying human eyes can recognize your signature and allow you to see what sups are allowed to view over there.”
They acquiesced with a small bow.
“Your luggage will be waiting for you at the castle, as will be Adrasteia Dionysios,” he continued. “Good luck, and Godspeed.”
“Will we see you there?” Kseniya asked as he started to move away.
He was the only familiar thing they would know in that realm.
He stopped abruptly, stiffening, then turned those striking gray eyes onto her. She squirmed, but then, it seemed his whole countenance softened, and a gentle smile took hold of his severe mouth.
“Fear not, Kseniya Dmitriievich. I have my own battles to fight, but know a trusted soul will never be far.”
She bit her lip at the almost fatherly reassurance, and before she could grasp, they had all left, except for her and Djibril.
She turned to him, her gaze raking over his form from head to toe. Warm, brown skin the color of toasted nuts. Emerald green eyes currently full of mistrust and loathing. She couldn’t fault him that—the sentiments must be echoed in her own gaze. Black clothing with fur lapels covered his big body, and she rolled her eyes at the coat. Wasn’t he being a bit too much here?
“Still can’t stand the cold of your homeland?” she threw out.
He snorted. “I’ll have you know it’s your damn energy coursing in me that is freezing my nuts over.”
So she hadn’t been the only one affected by their bonding. Still, she wouldn’t let him see her surprise. Never would she give the enemy an up over her.
She raked her gaze once more over him. “Must be very fragile nuts, then, if you’re in need of this much protection.”
His eyes narrowed. “Not all of us find fun in lying naked in a tub full of ice.”
Ah, that infamous shoot she had done for Swimsuit Illustrated. It had been around the time the ice bucket challenge had been trending, and she’d put her spin on that. The magazine had paid her an insane amount of money for those pictures—and a charity in Berlin doing research on sickle cell anemia in small children had found themselves receiving an insane amount of money as an anonymous donation soon after.
“The good ol’ times,” she said with a sickly smile.
Time to bite the bullet. The sooner they got to Shadow Bridge, the sooner they could gather their intel and start on their mission. She started to disrobe, and Djibril’s eyes boggled out.
“I am not looking a real-life reoccurrence of that picture, if you don’t mind,” he said in that uptight, stick-up-his-ass voice.
She raised her eyebrows at him. “So you’ve mastered how to change to your dragon form while fully clothed? Please enlighten me if that is the case.”
A flush of color crept up his stunning cheekbones, and she could almost swear she saw flames dancing in his eyes.
Still, she ignored him and got naked, calling her dragon as she did so.
Kseniya dropped to all fours and sucked in a deep breath, pulling in her core and belly button. On the exhale, she rounded her spine. A few more such cat-cow moves she’d learned in yoga put her in the mindset to let her dragon emerge, its spikes bursting through her spinal column as her body expanded all around it, like a balloon being inflated. Her legs grew heavy, getting stodgier, while her neck lengthened and the bone structure of her face and head shifted to welcome her beast form. On a blink, her vision changed, the pupils going long and vertical and her eyes seeing almost three hundred degrees in front and around her. With a soft puff of ice, she drew to her full dragon form and un-crouched from her position.
Inwardly, she frowned. Was it a trick of the light? Her usually silver-blue scales had a reddish tinge to them along the edges. The color clashed with her usual complexion. Ice dragons were never red. Unless …
She turned toward Djibril and tilted her head to the side to contemplate him. He seemed to be having trouble shifting. As if he were in pain, even. His struggle lasted a few more long minutes, until he stood in front of her in full dragon form, huffing and puffing as wafts of steam blew from his nostrils.
“You shouldn’t fight it,” she told him telepathically, since they couldn’t speak in their dragon form.
“Who says I’m fighting it?” he responded, sounding miffed.
She ran a glance over him. Reluctantly, she had to admit his was a beautiful dragon. The scales were a gorgeous, rich melding of red and green—the latter color, he must have received from his mother’s Earth dragon origins. But then, she saw a hint of silver blue gleaming on the tips of his scales, just like hers were now red.
She cringed. So the bonding had also made them share power. And if she were to peruse this matter even more, the sensation of molasses in her veins had also lessened. Could it be close proximity mitigated these effects? In that case, they really would be better off stuck at the hip.
Drat. They’d needed just that to make things better, hadn’t they?
With a snort that made ice crystals shower from her nostrils, she took flight and started to the south-east toward Shadow Bridge. With the whole of Alaska and the northern American continent to cross over to reach the eastern county between New York and Washington, D.C., they had their journey cut out for them.
Kseniya flew without bothering to look over her shoulder for Djibril. She wouldn’t show him she cared, and truly, she didn’t care. She’d just as much prefer to go on this mission alone and actually get the job done. That spoiled man-child would
be nothing but a complication, a green cherry who would just mess up every time. She had a plan, and it had not involved him at first, but now, she had to revise her strategy given how them being physically close together would help alleviate the effects of their power over each other. With a long-suffering sigh, she peered down. They should be flying over their destination shortly.
Soon enough, the clouds cleared, and the dilapidated structure of the eponymous Shadow Bridge could be viewed. Half the bridge, which actually didn’t seem to be going anywhere, had collapsed and disappeared.
At least, that’s what the human eye would see. The bridge was thus a fascinating and mysterious tourist spot on the eastern US coast.
But as a tingle registered in Kseniya’s body and the veil shimmered before them and let them through, she saw what only sups could. The bridge was still derelict, but the missing half actually lay in tatters here. One could walk over its rickety steel beam for over a mile.
A quick glance around showed her the castle in the distance. Any other day, she could’ve thought she was flying toward the fairy-tale castle at Disneyland or Neuschwanstein in Bavaria, Germany, because that’s what the dwelling of the founder and mayor of Shadow Bridge looked like. Turrets and wings sat over a hill that overlooked the town. Having been to Neuschwanstein once, when she had covered barely an inch of the castle in a full-day visit, she could imagine it would take days to navigate through all the nooks and crannies in this palace.
A small lake sat on the side of the castle at the foot of the hill. Konstantin had told them to aim for that area, where Adrasteia Dionysios’ private quarters were located. The immortal woman wanted to meet with them personally and away from the fuss and crowds of the central courtyard. He’d also told them she had removed the wards keeping dragons out from that side of the castle.
Indeed, they both landed with a soft plop on the cool, slightly wet grass of the lake’s embankment. Moisture hung in the air, and the cold blood in her veins called to the water droplets to recharge her latent energy.
“I see we already have a lot in common,” a low, throaty female voice said.
Kseniya turned toward the tiny woman in a wrap-around dress of jeweled hues as she came down the steps from the upper level of the balcony. Her long dark hair swung behind her fragile back, and her beautiful face, though devoid of wrinkles and which at first glance put her in her late thirties, still showed the wisdom of centuries of living. No, millennia, because Adrasteia Dionysios had been born in 900BC in Olympus. A century later, she had come down to Earth and had stayed ever since. That’s what she remembered of the legendary creature.
So this was the famed Adri. Kseniya had imagined her more imposing than this slip of a woman here. Without the heels, she wouldn’t top five-foot-three. However, she couldn’t dismiss the aura of power surrounding her, and she also failed to see how they had a lot in common already. She tilted her dragon head to the side, and the woman must have grasped her confusion—she went to the water’s edge, dipped her fingers into the lake, and her already bright blue eyes sharpened in color until they turned blinding with their rich hue. When she retrieved her fingers, the light died down, and her eyes had a more pronounced blue tint.
So she pulled power from water. Well, of course. Daughter of Dionysos and all that.
Kseniya closed her eyes and focused on inhaling and exhaling, calling her dragon to leave and let her human form take over again. As the bones started to shift, she pulled her concentration onto her glamor magic and conjured her clothing already. What a fantastic overture that would make, to stand stark naked in front of the woman needing their help.
Djibril, however, had no such luck. She could see him struggling with the change, fighting through it, resisting once again, and there came a moment between his shift and his glamor taking action where they were graced with the full frontal sight of the naked prince.
Adrasteia shook her head. “A shame you weren’t there when Michelangelo was looking for a muse for his David.”
This earned a little laugh from Kseniya as Djibril stood there with his cheekbones dark with color once again.
“Come,” their host said. “I’ll try to make this quick.”
She and Djibril both frowned, but she remembered her manners in time.
“Thank you for your hospitality. We plan to not impose. Rather, we wish to set out as soon as possible for London. I gather this is where we are going?”
“That is very kind of you. But hospitality also means I shouldn’t throw you out before giving you all the relevant intel. For this reason, you are welcome to stay for as long as you need before you feel prepared to set out on this quest.”
“I thought time was of the essence, though,” Djibril said.
Adrasteia threw him a glance as she started toward one end of the garden at the side of the castle. “It is, Your Highness. But I also know one should never set out on a mission without all the relevant information and material.”
“Please, none of the formality between us,” he was quick to say.
Kseniya frowned as she stared at him. So he could bend over backwards when it suited him. Prick.
“Please call me Adri, then. All those near and dear to me do.”
He nodded, and she couldn’t shake the regal note in the gesture. He truly was a prince. She’d seen the five toes on his dragon feet, but this effortless composure sealed it in. This was, indeed, the Crown Heir to their world.
If only he would grow up soon and realize this, they would all be much better off.
“You will need to rest after your long journey,” Adri said.
Kseniya stopped in her tracks and turned to the woman, gently taking hold of her hands. “We’re here to find a way to save your daughter and her unborn child. Please know that we will not rest nor need to rest until we have accomplished this task that has been entrusted to us.”
Next to her, Djibril had stopped, too. “She is right,” he said after a few seconds.
It seemed to her tears started gleaming in Adri’s eyes, but their host got hold of herself quickly and nodded with a tremulous smile.
“Then come. There is a lot you need to know before setting out.”
She led them through endless corridors and salons, passing by an inner courtyard where quite a few youngsters were sitting and chatting in the sunshine. Rooms showed people, but Adri didn’t pause to chat or make introductions.
Next to her, Kseniya felt Djibril tense, and some of his restless energy now crept into her to make her blood sluggish once again.
She drew closer to him and grabbed his hand, hard, crushing his fingers in her grip. “Stop it,” she hissed.
He tried to wrench his hand out, and he managed after a few seconds of struggling. “Stop what?”
“Whatever it is you’re thinking. It’s making your blood boil.”
“With good reason,” he mumbled.
“Shut up. We have a mission.”
He remained silent, but the hot pressure didn’t let up inside her. Instead, it grew, to reach its peak when Adri opened the doors to a wide study.
One single glance at the two men in the room, and she knew they weren’t human. Not even sups.
Adri made presentations this time. “Kseniya, Djibril, please meet Gideon and Elijah. They are …”
Angels. She should have known. Only their kind would look so ethereally beautiful while also spelling danger with a capital D.
But these two seemed like good enough guys, so what was Djibril’s beef now? Her blood had grown so slow, she struggled to move and focus her thoughts.
“Cut it out!” she hissed again before turning to the angels with a smile.
Elijah, the tall one who looked to be the size of an American football goal post, smiled a lot, which made his slanted eyes crinkle. The shorter one, who looked so delicate that one might fear a gust of wind could topple him over and break him like fragile porcelain, did the talking. She didn’t dare put in a word, because these were angels. No one eve
r spoke to them, let alone question their intel.
They learned of the war, the portal opening, the Originals. Gideon’s brother, Desmond, was at the forefront of the battle, being the General of Heaven’s troops. He had been supposed to go get their target in London, but unforeseen circumstances now meant he couldn’t, having to instead embark on a mission that required his presence up above in the sky. With him gone, the other angels were left hanging as to what direction to take. Hence the dragons’ presence to help in this endeavor.
A twinge of fear settled in Kseniya’s gut. If this target would’ve needed the General of Heaven’s army to go extract him, then what were they, two very young dragons, going to do? Suddenly, this didn’t seem as cut and dry as it had appeared before. She needed to revise her strategy. They’d need allies—the more, the better.
Their target’s name was Vadim Damian. He had spawned from the last Phoenix who had died around the time of the birth of Adri’s daughter, Séraphine. However, Damian had absolutely no idea yet he was not human, let alone a Phoenix. Unbeknownst to him, his genetic makeup as a Phoenix had made him do countless reckless things, which had then gotten him embroiled in the worst of London’s criminal underworld.
On this front, she had no qualms. Corpus dealt all the time with that nefarious realm, and she had assets all over the British capital who could help.
No, it was the supernatural aspect that worried her. They’d never done this before. Hell, she’d never done this before. They needed to be prepared, and as she racked her brain to find out who to ask for help here, the answer inserted itself into her mind.
They’d have to go out very soon.
As the angels concluded their briefing, Adri then led them out of the castle to one of the smaller guest cottages on the grounds.
Once the door had closed and she was sure the woman was out of earshot, she whirled onto Djibril.
“Okay, what the hell had that been about?”
He gave her a disgusted sneer. “You didn’t see it.” A scoff followed. “Of course you didn’t see it.”
“See what?”
“They’re all just like you.”
Sirens and Scales Page 271
