by Paula Quinn
“I think it’s blackmail.”
She lifted her brow and smiled at him. “Then he blackmailed himself. The agreement was his idea.”
Jeremy shifted his gaze to Garion and scowled. “If you make this agreement with the Elders, you’ll be alone for the rest of your life. Is that what you want?”
When Garion didn’t answer him right away, he shook his head in further disgust. “You’re a fool.”
“Who’s the fool? “ Garion asked evenly, unruffled by his friend’s obvious disappointment in him. “The man who will do what is necessary to keep those he cares about alive? Or the man who’s willing to sacrifice one race for another just for a chance to fly?”
“Just to fly?” Jeremy laughed but it sounded forced. “Is that what it is, Garion? Just flying? If you expect me to believe that’s how you feel about it, then you, my friend, are, indeed, the fool.”
Helena listened and watched the exchange intently, her blood turning cold. What did Jeremy mean? He was Garion’s childhood friend. He probably knew Garion better than anyone else did. Why would he expect Garion to feel any other way? Because of him spending eternity alone? One thing was clear, Jeremy Redmond wanted Garion to change him. No! Not a Red!
“I fight the temptation every day, Red. If I can, so can you.”
“I don’t want to, Garion,” his friend admitted unrepentantly, ignoring the fact that two members of The Bane were sitting with him. “I want to rule the sky with you. Don’t go to bed with the enemy, Garion. No matter what the Elders agree to, remember their sole purpose is to eradicate us through you. We can stop them. ”
“How?” Helena’s brother asked. “I’m curious how you intend to stop the Elders once you’ve been transformed? Fire?”
“Be careful what questions you put to me, White,” Jeremy warned him. “You might not like the answers.”
“And you might not like the consequences of your answers, Red,” Jacob told him, sounding more serious than Helena had heard him in years.
“He isn’t going to be transformed,” Garion said before his friend had a chance to reply.
Jeremy remained silent for a moment, his expression dark. “You’re a traitor to your race, Garion.”
“And you’re not?” Garion asked him. His voice was still tempered but he sat forward in his chair. “You want to bring an end to mankind—”
“No, I don’t,” Jeremy argued. “We’ll live as humans most of the time and only turn—”
“You’ll turn more frequently,” Garion told him. “The exhilaration of power is strongest in Drakkon. You’ll feed off it and, soon, living as a human will offer no more temptation. How long do you think it will be before you tire of sharing the balance with puny men?”
Jeremy rose from his seat. When he spoke there was no trace of fondness for his childhood friend in his voice. “You’re ending us, Garion. I always believed you would change your mind and join us.” He slid his angry gaze to Helena. “It seems that you’re ruled by your cock—just like the rest of us.”
Chapter Ten
“Garion!”
Helena’s voice stopped him from reaching out and grabbing Red by the throat. They’d thrown punches in the past. Jeremy possessed the blood of the Red warrior Drakkon. Fighting was in his blood. But Garion had never wanted to knock out his teeth before. He’d never known Red to insult a woman before, and certainly not a woman Garion was fond of.
He held off hitting him for Helena’s sake and watched his friend leave the penthouse in silence.
When they were alone again, Garion turned to her and Jacob. “I’m sorry. He’s not usually an asshole.”
“Carina would disagree,” Helena said when his cat walked over to climb up his leg and return to his shoulder.
“He’s dangerous.” Jacob left his chair and went to stand before the windows. “Wanting to fly is one thing, wanting to rule the sky is another.”
“Yes,” Garion agreed. “I never want to be forced to transform him.”
“And that,” Jacob said, turning to him with no malice in his cloudless blue eyes, “is the threat that will keep the Elders from ever trusting you.”
“They don’t have to trust me,” Garion told him, unhappy that he had to say it, “just fear me.” He’d given his warning to Helena and now her brother could verify it. “If anyone in my family is ever harmed, I’ll leave Jarakan, Aldric, and the rest mixed with the ashes of their homes.”
Silence settled over them. Garion felt it like a heavy shroud. These two knew too well what he was capable of becoming. He didn’t have to probe to know they were remembering.
“It’s fair, Jake.”
Garion turned his gaze to Helena when she spoke. She looked away trying to conceal the veil of moisture that made her eyes shimmer in the firelight.
“He hasn’t turned anyone in over a decade. He’s stayed away from the world and tamed the beast within him. All he’s asking in return for continuing to live as he does, is for him and his family to be left alone.” She dipped her gaze to the floor. “It’s fair.”
Garion couldn’t look away from her. He didn’t want to ever again. How had he managed to win her to his side? What had it cost her to step over? Why had he wanted to lift Jeremy off the sofa and throw him into the elevator when he sat beside her?
“The Elders don’t care about fair,” Jacob said, dragging Garion’s gaze from her.
“Maybe not,” Helena answered, lifting her eyes and capturing Garion’s gaze. “But they care about choices and they no longer have any. Garion already knows why I’m going to help him, but now I have another reason. If the Elders agree with the deal, Garion will not turn any descendant, including you.”
Garion wasn’t surprised that she’d recognized the desire to fly in her brother. Had she always known?
“I didn’t ask,” her brother said levelly. “Nor would—”
The ringing buzzer interrupted him.
“Mr. Gold,” came the doorman’s voice. “Were you expecting Mr. Redmond to return with more guests?”
More guests? Garion thought, with his heart pumping in his ears. “How many?”
“Four men and two women are approaching the building with him, Sir,” the doorman told him. “Shall I grant access?”
Garion’s blood turned to fire. Who were the people with Red? Were they part of the “us” he’d referred to earlier? Was he part of the same group Ellie had spoken of? “Let me speak to him.”
He turned to Helena while he waited. Was she in danger? He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her—or her brother. “There’s a service elevator in the breakfast room. It’ll take you both down on the other side of the building. Get Carina and take her with you. Go to the park. Wait for me there.”
“We’re not leaving you here!” Helena rushed forward. He caught her in his arms and looked down into her eyes. Behind her, her brother muttered a string of curses as their true feelings for each other became clear. Garion had to agree with him. They were foolish, thinking with their hearts and not with their heads. Things could never work between them. His Drakkon blood was too powerful, too dangerous. He didn’t want to fall in love with her only to lose her to her mortality.
“Garion,” Red’s familiar voice sounded on the other end of the intercom, dragging his thoughts back to the present, “there are some people who’d like a word with you. Let us up.”
“Who’s with you, Red? Did you betray me to The Bane?”
“Betray you to The Bane?” His friend laughed. “That’s what you did to us. We’re tired of waiting. Let us up or I’ll shoot this nice gentleman in the head and work the elevator myself.”
“Red,” Garion said, doing his best to control his temper. This couldn’t be his best friend. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Tired of waiting, Buddy.”
A shot rang out, startling Helena and draining the blood from Garion’s face. No!
For an instant, he couldn’t move. Had his longtime friend just shot his doorman?
“I’m waiting for you,” Garion growled from deep in his throat. He shut off the intercom and manually unlocked the elevator then took Helena by the arms. “Listen to me, you need to go.”
She shook her head. Her beautiful eyes were filled with dread and determination. “We can fight. We can help.”
“Helena, go!” He pulled her toward the breakfast room while Jacob gathered Carina in her carrier.
“He’s right,” her brother told her. “There are seven of them and chances are they want us dead first.”
“So we leave him to fight alone?”
“I can heal myself,” Garion assured her. “I’ll be fine.”
Her eyes grew even rounder. “What do you mean you can heal yourself?”
“It’s part of…what I am,” he told her, stopping her at the service elevator door. “I can’t explain it all now. There’s no time. I just need you to go. Now.” He produced another electronic key and swiped it across a small panel beside the door. “You’ll be safe. The door locks again automatically when it closes. Go on now. I’ll see you soon.”
She finally nodded as the door opened. Garion wanted to kiss her. He wanted to go with her. He did neither. This way was best. He’d keep her, Jacob, and Carina safe and stop Red from killing anyone else.
#
Helena had no intention of leaving Garion to fight so many alone, so when the service elevator began to close, she rushed back into the breakfast room leaving her brother behind with Carina. Jacob shouting her name as he disappeared didn’t deter her from her purpose—nor did Garion’s claim that he could heal himself. What the hell else was he capable of? It didn’t matter presently. Jeremy had shot Garion’s doorman to get to him. What were he and his companions prepared to do to Garion to get his blood? She couldn’t let the Red succeed! No matter how she felt about Garion, she was still Bane and she wouldn’t run away while Jeremy tried to fill the sky with Drakkon.
She tiptoed into the hallway and slipped out onto the terrace. Garion had told her that it led back to the sitting room. There, she’d have a better advantage of aiding Garion if fighting broke out.
She stayed hidden when she reached her destination and watched Garion standing in front of the main door while it rolled open.
“Red, put the gun away before I shove it down your throat.” The guttural baritone of Garion’s voice chilled her blood.
“Where are the Whites?” Jeremy asked, ignoring the warning and stepping out of the elevator. His six companions accompanied him and took their stand at his side. The two women and one of the men stared at Garion in awe, taking in the magnificent Gold before them.
“Gone. They left shortly after you.”
“Check the premises,” Jeremy ordered the others. Helena produced her golden dagger from her boot and waited for whoever was coming to check.
Garion’s strong fingers around his wrist stopped the first man who took a step forward. “Are you willing to die for him?” he asked, raking his fiery gaze over the small group. “Because if any one of you takes another step into my domain without my invitation, you will die and your family and friends will have Jeremy to thank.”
His domain. He was speaking like Drakkon and, for some insane reason, it heated Helena’s blood. Was she seriously recalling his arms closed around her, his mouth covering hers, his tongue…
“You came for my blood, Red? Are you going to shoot me to get it?”
“If I have to,” came his friend’s reply.
From her hiding place, Helena watched Garion intently. When he spoke again, her heart broke. “Was my blood all that ever mattered to you?”
“No. My blood was all that mattered,” Jeremy told him, his gun, relaxed in his hand. “I want to fly, Garion. It’s all I’ve wanted for a long time. It’s like a fever burning from the deepest parts of my soul. I know you feel it. I know you do.”
“I do,” Garion agreed. “I feel it singeing my nerves, searing my skin every morning, Red. I live with it flowing in my veins, haunting me, taunting me. I resist it every day.”
“Don’t,” Red insisted. “Let’s take back the sky and—”
“No. Not to start a war. I’ll never turn you.”
Red stretched out his arm to point his gun at Garion’s face. “Then you leave me no choice.”
Horrified, Helena stepped forward and hurled her dagger end over end through the air. An instant before it would have sank into Jeremy’s ribs, Garion reached out and snatched his wrist. The dagger tore through Garion’s arm instead.
The entryway came alive with shouts and confusion—and then movement. Everyone was rushing toward her.
And all she could think about was if the gold in her blade was poisoning Garion. She looked at him long enough to see him rip the blade from his arm, toss her a stunned scowl, then send a massive fist into Jeremy’s jaw. He looked well enough when he took off running in her direction after Red crumbled to the floor.
Helena curled her arms before her and rotated her hip, readying herself to fight. She wasted no time on her first opponent, landing a right cross to his jaw and a body kick that landed him on his ass. The second to reach her was one of the women who couldn’t take her eyes off Garion. She had a knife of her own and swung it at Helena’s face. Helena blocked the blow with her left forearm and struck her attacker in the throat with her fist.
Garion appeared at her side and helped her fight the rest. He slammed his elbow into a man’s face, shattering his jaw. Another giant fist to the face of his next opponent sent teeth flying before the intruder fell unconscious to the floor.When it was over and they stood among the wounded, Helena wanted to fling herself in his arms, thankful that he hadn’t been harmed.
“What the hell are you doing back here?” he demanded, taking a step back. “You could have been killed, Helena!”
He looked so terrified and shaken by the thought that she threw caution to the wind and leaped into his arms, forgetting one of them was wounded. She didn’t want to leave him. She didn’t want to never see him again. There had to be a way. There just had to be.
“I couldn’t go,” she said, lost in his consuming embrace of tense, trembling muscles. “I—”
She heard the shot ring out and police sirens on the street below. There wasn’t any pain as Red’s bullet tore through her back and burst from her belly, but her clothes felt warm and wet. She looked toward the elevator and Jeremy on his knees, getting up from the floor, his gun in his hand. Then she looked down at the blood staining her pink parka. It was on Garion, too. Was it his blood or hers?
Was she still in his arms? Her thoughts began to fade but not before the beautiful face above her began to change.
It was the monster. It was coming back.
Chapter Eleven
She went limp in his arms.
Helena!
Garion’s thoughts went dark. His world went red. He could feel his bones trying to shift, his skin beginning to harden as a well of deep emotions sprang upward. A single thought was all it took to awaken the Drakkon. They’d been shot and if he didn’t turn, he was going to die. If he didn’t turn, he had no protection against Red’s bullets.
Helena.
He clung to humanity by his sheer will to save her. She was dying. There was only one way to keep her alive and it was already happening. He could feel his essence leaving him through their wounds. If he turned now, the flow of his blood would end instantly. She would either die or he’d have to waste time biting a new wound through his armored skin. She didn’t have time, so he remained still, holding her close as his heart began to slow. He couldn’t let her die, not here—not in his arms. He could only save her by altering her, so he let his essence fill her and his promises to himself and to her, dissolve.
He nearly collapsed, almost bringing them both to the ground, but he held on until he felt her heartbeat gr
owing stronger against his chest.
She remained unconscious but she would live. She’d live and she’d hate him for what he’d turned her into.
For that, and for almost killing her, Red would pay.
He felt the shift instantly and was only vaguely aware of setting Helena down and his clothes tearing away from his body. His vision became panoramic as his pupils changed and his eyes grew beneath his scaly brow. His great, spiked head rolled upward, crashing through the skylight. He unfurled his wings to shield Helena from the shattered glass.
Freedom!
For an instant, he was filled with the desire to fly and fill the heavens with his pent up fire. But the scent of blood assailed his giant, leathery nostrils and he swung his head down to Helena lying on the floor. He could hear her slow, labored breath—and Red’s quickened pulse.
The irritating bastard fired his gun again but the bullet bounced off Garion’s shimmering scales.
Garion still possessed enough control to keep from burning Jeremy to ashes, but with a swift stretch of his neck, he chomped down on Red’s arm and bit it off. A warm, smoky gust of air issued forth from his nostrils and fell on Red’s writhing body. His eyes shone like an all-consuming fire as he connected their thoughts.
If you go near her again, I’ll come back and eat the rest of you.
He didn’t wait for Red to answer—or stop screaming—but swung around, closed his long-taloned fingers around Helena’s body and flapped his enormous wings.
He broke through the rest of the penthouse skylight and soared upward, letting the cold air cut his teeth, the glorious wind lifting him higher. He flew, exhilarating in the freedom of it. In his present form, he refused to think about broken promises or what his heart was feeling while he altered her. He was Drakkon! He was back! He longed to go higher, back to the stars, but he carried a precious possession in his claws—one who could not, in her present form, breathe out of this atmosphere.
He looked down at her limp body and was tempted to smell her again, taste her perhaps. He fought the urge and flew faster. Something pulled him back. Something that belonged to him was missing.
