by Anna Morgan
So. The client had begun the game, but Mateo would end it. Now it was time to watch, and wait, and see what traitors came out of the closet. The enemy should have known better than to try to play Mateo Guerin. But Calla had to see for herself. And he hurt for her anguish when she finally did.
He just hoped the Pythian wasn't a traitor as well.
21
Her people called her the mad queen- she allowed it, because it meant nothing. They still respected her strength, and she knew the truth.
A presence in the palace disturbed the her. Something she hadn't felt in decades. Her powyr fluttered, the dragon rising to seek the source of the wrongness. That presence shouldn't be here. It was too early. But now it might be too late.
A wind at her back, a murmur of words like a ghost in her ears. She pushed it aside, as always.
22
Calla was hot and damp with sorrow when Duro came to visit her with a tray of food she couldn't stomach. She turned away. Let him leave the food, she might pick over it when she'd given up trying to hold the pieces of her heart together.
"First General?"
She stiffened. That wasn't her title anymore. She had nothing. Not Mateo, not her Delphina, not the respect of her people. There was nothing else to take from her but the clothes on her back. What good was she to the realm this way?
"Andris, please."
She felt a hand on her shoulder, light and delicate. Not the firm touch of her mate. She needed him like air—
"Calla!" Duro snapped. "This is important!"
She threw the pillow at him in a rage, unable to stop the surge of emotion from taking over. "More important than my mate rejecting me? More important than—"
"Yes!" Duro tossed the pillow to one side of the room. "Where's Mateo?"
"He's gone!" She lunged off the bed to push Duro, but only managed to slam her fist on his wide chest. "Dammit, that bloodletting bastard…"
"Well, you better get him back," Duro said in a practical voice, utterly tone deaf to Calla's grief. "Mateo is one of the lost sons."
Calla looked up at the scholar, quickly wiping her eyes. "Say that again?"
"He's a prince of the realm." Duro handed her a paper but Calla couldn't make sense of the graphs and lines. He snickered and pointed, "Here and here? That's the Delphina's DNA we have on file. That's Mateo's—"
"Are you sure?" Of course he was sure. She was already sure, she'd just been waiting for confirmation.
Duro snorted hard and snatched the paper back. His hands morphed into long claws and he seemed to struggle with his change. After a deep breath, the shift retreated and he held the paper between his hands, pinkies out, eyes closed. "I am a decorated scholar of the realm with an expertise in genetic heritage and I am telling you that Mateo Guerin is one of our stolen princes." He opened his eyes and asked seriously. "Now what are you going to do about it?"
"He still left."
"Ask yourself why." Duro's voice was soft. "Takoda didn't bring him to the blue wing right away. He took him somewhere else."
She stared. "What?"
"You are a newly mated pair, Calla. He wouldn't have left you—unless he was convinced he was saving you."
But why would someone want Mateo to think… suspicion formed in her gut, a leaden ball that also served as accusation. Of her own blindness. There was only one person in the court who benefited—personally—if Calla was gone. Only one person who wouldn't want to see a lost prince restored.
T.
T…
T.
She was stupid. A child could have made the connection, and she hadn't, until now.
"Mateo is in danger. You have influence in the records. I came home with a bag full of things. Not much. There are two cell phones in that bag. Bring them to the great hall immediately."
"Yes, First General." Duro bowed. He banged on the door to be let out.
Before the guards could lock her back inside, Calla slammed the door open wide and stood in the doorway. They all turned, ready to fight if necessary. "Do I have your attention? Good. I want an audience with the Pythian. Now."
The guards exchanged glances. One cleared his throat, "You're not permitted to leave until your hearing tomorrow—"
"I'm not asking. Tell him I want an audience with him and all his generals. All of them."
"He won't listen—"
Calla bared her teeth and growled, "Tell him I have his son."
That brought the guards up short and they exchanged another series of glances. It was a good bluffing line, what dragon would risk dismissing information about the lost princes? And thankfully, Calla wasn't bluffing. She grabbed the edge of her door and backed into the room. "Call me when he's ready to see me." She watched one of the guards turn and run down the hall as she closed the door.
She didn't have to wait long. News of the lost princes had devastated the kingdom and even though it had been decades since, many in the court still held out hope that they weren't dead. There had been no bodies, no ransom note. Just five hatchlings, gone from their nursery in the middle of the night.
Calla was heavily escorted to the great hall, and as she'd requested, the generals were present. She looked over the group of twelve. It was hard to believe that any of them would work against the court. They'd lived their whole lives here, dedicated their purpose to the war; how long had one of them been lying to the rest?
The Pythian arrived. He didn't sit, so no one else did either. "You confirmed it?"
"Yes, my liege." His words also told her that he'd already guessed, yet waited for her to do her job. That he didn't really think she was compromised. Not if he trusted her to deal with this. Calla stepped forward to separate herself from the crowd of armed escorts around her. "When I was taken from my room here in the castle, I learned a great many things. Principle among them, that there are agents of our enemies within these walls and until now, they have been able to act without scrutiny."
After a moment of silence, the Pythian took his seat. The generals sat in their chairs as well. Calla remained standing. She signaled to Duro, who brought her the phones as she requested. She only needed one to expose the traitor in the room. "If the court is not aware, Mateo Guerin is a vampyr." She let the cascade of whispers settle before she continued. "He is a member of a cognate based on the West Coast of North America, they specialize in assassination for hire." She folded her hands together. "They acted to kidnap me on behalf of a client who is in this room, now."
This time the whispers grew into debate and though Calla remained patient, the conversation didn't abate. It only seemed to grow. The generals leaned into one another, discussing her news, pointing and dismissing, playing a sudden game of who-dun-it. The king cleared his throat. Conversation quieted.
General Takoda stood to address her, leaning on the table. "This is a serious accusation, Calla."
"I have proof," she said. "Mateo and I tracked down the intermediary whom the agent in this room spoke to. And that man gave us a phone number." She held up the cell phone and pressed the call button.
A ringtone pierced the dead silence with a cheerful jingle. Calla tracked her eyes down from the Pythian on his dais to General Takoda. She'd hoped she was wrong. Hope had failed so many times in the past. His teeth were clenched, and he flinched when the ringtone chimed again. The woman seated next to him grabbed Takoda's jacket and fished the ringing phone out. She tossed it towards the Pythian. It skittered on the marble and smacked into the lower step. Then it chimed again.
Their liege looked at Takoda and for a moment, Calla thought he would ask if it was true, but the fury and hot flush of shame in Takoda's face gave him away. There was no hiding from this.
Calla clicked the phone shut, drawing all eyes. "Furthermore," she said into the rising silence, "The vampyr that Takoda hired to kidnap me, that same vampyr who would have received the court's full fury had he been caught, Mateo Guerin, is your son, my liege."
General Takoda scoffed. "You can't prove—"
"Your Majesty, sirs." Duro stepped up with his finger raised. "I have already performed a DNA test. Mateo is one of the lost princes."
"And finally," Calla said, surprising everyone including herself. "I believe you'll find it was General Takoda who sent Mateo back to the cognate earlier today." She had thought Takoda was helping Mateo with the nuances of court, but now she realized they had been played on both sides. Whatever they had talked about, it had convinced Mateo to leave her. "Your son was in this hall, Your Majesty. I brought him home."
The Pythian stood and the generals stumbled to follow, all facing the throne and General Takoda. "How do you answer this charge?"
Takoda snarled, "How could I have known he was your son?"
The silence in the room was deafening. "You've betrayed this crown and your sentence is death." The Pythian's reply was flat. Emotionless.
She struggled to find the same stoicism. General Takoda was a man she admired and emulated, but he'd been holding an anger in his heart that burned hot enough to act against the court itself.
Takoda roared and in a flash, transformed from human to dragon. His beast was huge, scarred, and powyrful. With a sweep of his tail, he scattered the generals and their chairs. Calla dove to the side. The men she'd been escorted by rushed the dais to protect their Pythian. Calla shifted. The great hall was big, probably the largest room in the castle, but that didn't make it big enough for two dragons. And Calla had a bone to pick. She had enough fury to go around before she'd discovered Takoda was behind her kidnapping, and now? Now she was twice betrayed.
Calla clawed at her mentor, ripping through wing membrane and blood vessels. He snapped at her neck and she blocked with her own teeth, then rammed him with her blunt horns. Once upon a time, Calla had trained under Takoda as both human and dragon. She knew his strengths and weaknesses as well as she knew her own. In this tight space, her wings were only a liability, so she kept them down tight on her back and lunged with teeth and horns instead. She rammed her head upward and caught Takoda's head with her horns. He roared as she gouged an eye. Calla snarled back. How had he convinced Mateo to leave her so completely? What pain had Mateo gone through to close the link that tied them?
This was for Mateo. Calla clamped her jaws on Takoda's neck and squeezed until his scales popped under the pressure of her teeth. She tore her head back and took the natural armor with her, exposing sensitive skin and muscle. Takoda squirmed. He shifted, shrinking down suddenly and slipping Calla's grasp. She staggered back, searching the wrecked great room, and spotted him making a run for it out the front door. She shifted and chased.
Takoda gasped, "You can't… you can't do this. I taught you everything!"
Once clear of the doorway, Takoda shifted back, his speed unmatched. The damage she'd done was healed in jagged lines of scar that crisscrossed his wings and spread down his neck. He jumped into the air. Calla followed him, shifting mid-stride and leaping with a massive push of her legs. She caught Takoda's tail in her teeth and yanked him back down. A dragon was powyrful, but flight wasn't easy, especially with an extra weight to carry. Takoda listed in the air. He crashed to the stone steps of the castle and slid to the base, smearing blood as he went. A broken wing at least, maybe more. Calla didn't let him rise. She walked up his back, snarling, and pinned his head down with one clawed hand for better leverage.
It was easier to expose his neck the second time. She ripped his scales away with her teeth and dug into his back with her rear claws, daring him to shift again. She would tear him to shreds in the process. She snapped her teeth on his exposed throat and ripped flesh and bone clean away. The gore tasted like vengeance. Takoda's body twitched on the stairs as the light faded from his eyes. Calla snarled at the still flesh for good measure, and only when his heart slowed, and then finally stopped pumping did she step off the body and shift down to human.
She spat and wiped her mouth. Takoda's blood painted the stairs red, flooding down into the gutter.
The Pythian and his guards crowded her on the stairs suddenly. "Calla, go. Bring my son back."
"Yes, my liege," she said, then paused, looking at Takoda's body. "We need to know why."
"I'll take over the investigation. Now go."
She smiled, bloodstained and proud. "Gladly."
23
Calla tried to reach Mateo to let him know she was coming and failed—it was probably better this way, so he didn't have warning to hide from her. Whatever lies he'd been told, she would have to counteract in person. The Pythian refused to let her go without protection, so Roku's entire team flanked her. She knew it looked like an assault was coming, but she was on a mission to recover her mate and the prince of the realm. This was as much a diplomatic meeting as it was a personal one.
But that didn't mean she couldn't make an entrance.
She knew he was at his hotel suite in LA from a quick scan of the gossip rags—and a flight of dragons setting down in front of the hotel was bound to catch his attention.
Calla didn't have to wait long.
They shifted to human in the lobby, snatching up the bags they'd been carrying in their teeth and quickly dressed. She heard the flash of several cameras and resigned herself to being butt naked on the front page of someone's newspaper. Oh, well.
An elevator pinged and Mateo appeared a moment later, striding through the gathering road with his rock star insouciance.
"Hey, babe. Did we win?"
Though his tone was casual, cocky, his eyes were serious, and pierced through her neutral expression. She strode forward, the last few steps at a dead run and launched herself at him. Desperate, uncaring of the audience. She needed to feel him. Arms around her, breath in her ear as he laughed.
"The ladies just love me," he whispered in her ear, holding her tight. His hand burned in her hair and he yanked her head back, searching her face. And she knew one thing right away—he hadn't left her.
"We won," she said.
His head tilted, hair falling over his shoulders, and smirked. "How's General Takoda?"
"Dead."
Mateo smiled, and it reminded Calla of his mother. On a battlefield, with prey in her maw.
"Why did you leave?" she asked.
He twined a lock of her hair around his finger. "You wouldn't have believed me, babe. You needed to find out for yourself, and I was in the way. I figured you could handle one little traitor."
"We should take this somewhere else," Roku called. "For the sake of the dignity of the Dragon Court. Your Highness, may we escort you to your suite?"
Mateo looked around. "You brought a royal with you?"
"Oops," Roku said.
She didn't believe the 'oops' for a second. Calla sighed. "Mateo, let's go upstairs. We need to talk."
Mateo looked between her and Roku, brow raised, then shrugged. And hesitated. But finally nodded, indicating they should proceed.
The elevator pinged, the door sliding open to his floor.
"I suppose I should tell you," her mate said casually, "that Estophen is here."
The vampyr rose from his seat on the couch as the dragons entered the suite, the elevator door sliding closed behind them.
"Calla," Mateo said, his voice sharp.
She paused, halted her immediate, visceral shift. But when she spoke, her voice was the deep rumble of a dragon warrior. "What the fuck is he doing here?"
Estophen sniffed, sipping the deep red liquid in his glass. "So ladylike."
"I'm the First General of the Dragon Court of Patomas. I am not a lady." She snarled at Mateo. "Explain yourself."
"An understanding has been reached. Considering the fact that the client is dead."
"Our reputation and customer service record is preserved," Estophen said.
"So, I'm just supposed to forget that—"
"Calla, baby. We're all family, now."
She blanched. Estophen smirked. "But," the vampyr said, "Mateo did promise we would be compensated for the loss of the contract."
"Mateo."
"You know you could use a cognate of vampyrs with specialized skills."
"This is a little insane," Roku murmured. "The Pythian will be highly amused."
But she wasn't. At all.
"We can always pretend we didn't hear that," her lieutenant continued.
"No," Calla said, grim. "Word is bond. Especially the word of the prince."
She bowed, so the others took a knee. Mateo looked at all of them, Estophen's eyes narrowed.
"Calla," her mate said.
"Do you remember the bloodstained clothes?" she asked him, and waited for his nod. "I was wondering why it was so easy for me to love you. And when we were home, I realized—well, I suspected before then—that… you are our Delphina and Pythian's son. One of them."
Mateo stared at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Estophen began to chuckle, hands rubbing together. "Perfect. This is wonderful news, my Descent."
She ignored, resentfully, the glee on the vampyr's face. "We ran the DNA."
Not a single face other than Estophen's held amusement. The dragons continued to kneel, though Calla knew their attention was sharp on the vampyrs.
"I… see," he said. "So, you didn't come back here for me—for us?"
Roku snorted.
Calla rolled her eyes. "We're mates, Mateo. You'll learn what that means—eventually." She sighed. "Damn and blast—I'll probably be put in charge of your education. As if I don't have enough to do."
"My father is the Pythian?"
His shock penetrated the shield around their bond. He opened to her, and she felt everything he felt. And clutched her chest, breath gone. Joy and pain. Shock and sorrow. Calla stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"My father. And… my mother? What about my mother?"
