Monsters, Book Two: Hour of the Dragon

by Heather Killough-Walden

  I think you answered your own question, Anna, she told herself. It really would be elaborate subterfuge, wouldn’t it? And to what end?

  Annaleia replaced her hands on the counter, closed her eyes, and breathed again. She got three more deep ones in her before she gently pushed off the counter and opened the door to step out into the hall. Once there, she stood still and listened.

  You know dragons can hear you breathe, right? Her mind wasn’t going easy on her today. They can hear a person’s heartbeat a block away, Anna.

  Shut up.

  As far as she was concerned however, she couldn’t hear anything at all. No noise coming from the living room. No sounds coming from anywhere in the villa, in fact.

  She chewed on her bottom lip and weighed her options. On impulse, she turned right and rather than return to the living room, she continued further down the hall.

  The third opening to the right from the main room was another closed door. She tried the handle half-expecting it to be locked, but it wasn’t. When she opened the door inward, motion-detecting lights switched on, revealing something that sent electric zaps of happiness throughout Anna’s body.

  “Holy….” Her voice trailed off in absolute wonder before returning, cracked with barely-contained glee. “The boy has a candy store… in his closet….”

  The room was probably about the size of her own current living room. That wasn’t to say it was enormous, but by no means was it small. And the only thing in it was layer upon layer of shelves. Four walls of them, all carved of wood, painted pristine white, and all of them virtually overflowing with candy.

  It was the most beautiful thing Anna had ever seen in her entire life. From one side of the room to the other, Anna’s eyes roved over neatly organized rainbows of every kind of sweet treat ever created. Surely, it must have been. There were brands here that she knew had been out of production for decades, but they looked brand new. She noticed three of her favorite candies right off the bat. There were chocolates in every size, shape, and color of box or foil wrapping, bars of dark and light and white and nut-filled and toffee-filled and nut-butter-filled, chocolates in shapes of animals and fruits and chocolates filled with every kind of alcohol man had ever brewed or pulled from the vine. And that was only the chocolates.

  Shelf after shelf of fruit flavored hard candies, chewies, tart candies, jawbreakers, gum-filled candies, lollipops, licorices, taffies, jelly beans, pastilles, and candies that started as one type of sweet and turned into another – all measured in the thousands.

  There seemed to be a million different kinds of candy in that room.

  It was a while before Annaleia realized that she’d not only entered the room fully but was slowly turning in place in an attempt to take it all in. How had he managed this? How did it all fit? It seemed impossible – but the room stretched to strange dimensions and rose so high she was sure she’d have to climb to reach most of the shelves. And yet everything seemed right there within reach, too. It was definitely magic.

  And it was definitely dragon.

  “I’ve never wanted to be a dragon so badly in my life,” she muttered to herself.

  This is more proof, she realized. That man out there really is a dragon.

  Which means… he really could be Ares.

  Chapter Twenty-four – Santorini, Greece

  Ares could feel them out there, all stirred up, all trying to get in. Well, not all of them could be trying to get in. Because if Cain had tried to get in, the Monsters clan leader would be sitting on Mace’s couch right now with his boots propped up on the coffee table as he sucked back Ares’ stronger liquor. And he wasn’t. Which meant he hadn’t tried.

  So things couldn’t have been that bad yet.

  Yet.

  That made Ares feel a little bit better about the reinforcements he added to the wards over and around the villa. He walked the line of his property, staying just on the inside, and peered out over Santorini’s Vylchadia beach. This particular beach had some of the tallest cliffs. It also had its fair share of tourists, and Ares would have had a ruined view if not for the fact that his home here in Santorini connected to his home in the Dragon Realm, allowing the beach to extend protected and unpopulated through a number of ancient magics. All of his homes were connected to the Dragon Realm. That way he could enter any of them, anywhere in the realms, from his anchor den.

  Here in this realm, he’d chosen Santorini as one of his homes because he loved the water, and this water was warm. Most dragons loved water. Red dragons being the exception.

  This island was further out from the mainland than others, offering another measure of solitude. And Ares loved the view from these cliffs. He loved taking flight from them as well. And if in time the island became too busy for his tastes, he would simply move his abode to another.

  Behind him, in the confines of his home, he felt Annaleia moving around. She was like an extension of him, a puzzle piece that had broken free from him and was barely tethered. He wanted to yank the tether hard and draw her back to complete him, and it had only been an hour since he’d held her again. Fifty years, and not a single second had dulled the memory of her warmth against his body, nor had it dulled the ache he immediately felt upon letting her go.

  He could hear her breaths as she moved from room to room in his house, hear her words, hear and feel her heartbeats. It was the strangest thing… but it was almost as if her heart beat in time with one of his.

  He knew when she was afraid – no doubt at seeing his wealth. He’d been worried about that and it seemed for good reason. He knew when she was angry – perhaps at him because of that wealth, or because she was recognizing that this was all real and he’d lied to her for the entirety of their friendship, or maybe she was angry about her situation in general. She’d never liked feeling out of control or helpless.

  He could sense when she was resigned, most likely weary. Exhausted. She’d been traveling and then she was attacked. And now she was alone and the house was calm and her adrenaline was leaving her drained.

  And finally, he knew when she was hit with a simultaneous blast of shock and elation. Those last two coming when she’d happened upon his private candy stores. He heard her muttered words about wishing to be a dragon. He grinned, shaking his head. That brought back memories, actually.

  It was not the first time she’d said something like that, ironically. She’d said something similar once when they were in school together. After she had been injured doing something dangerous and he’d asked her not to do it again, she’d told him she wasn’t a quitter; she was a dragon.

  Actually, the conversation had been longer than that, and he was almost positive she’d said “goddamn dragon” and not just “dragon.” But one was the other.

  He chuckled now, thinking about it. Little one, he thought. You should be careful what you wish for. Because if it were possible? He was pretty sure he would have done it fifty years ago. And he was sure as hell that he would do it now.

  His smile stayed put as he heard her move further into the room. She’d always liked sweets. He could just imagine her swiping her favorite snacks right now. And why not? It was the very least he owed her.

  At long last, her footfalls wandered softly back down the hallway toward the living room, and he turned to see her through the glass wall that separated the great room from the private cliff-side steps where he stood.

  She looked around for a second, and when she didn’t find him, her head lifted. She turned to the glass. He gave her a little two-fingered wave. Her head tilted inquisitively. And then she took a massive bite from the candy bar in her right hand, practically ripping it in half. His eyes widened, and he laughed softly when a caramel strand dripped from the side of the bar to land on her lip and chin. But his laughter caught in his throat when her little pink tongue darted out to lick the sweetness off her bottom lip. Her finger swiped at the caramel on her chin… and then she stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked.

  Her cheeks hol
lowed for just a fraction of a second, and Ares had to turn away, cross his arms over his chest, and adjust his footing on the stairs. Son of a bitch, he thought recklessly. He cast his gaze far out to sea and concentrated on the white crests atop the waves. He thought of the ocean, the clouds in the sky, the sun on his profile warming his skin. Anything but her mouth.

  “I found your treasure,” came a tentatively smiling voice behind him.

  He turned, careful to keep his body well under control. Annaleia had stopped a few yards away, still unsure of how close she should get to him. You’re my treasure, he thought. “I can see that,” he said with a winsome smile.

  “Thank you for the sweater,” she told him. Her heart rate had increased as she’d come toward him. But whether it was out of fear or something else, he couldn’t yet be certain. Maybe it’s just the sugar, he told himself as if he needed a reminder to keep his excitement in check.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. To everything and anything. Always.

  “What are you doing out here?” she asked then, before taking another bite of the bar.

  He looked away and pretended to pay attention to what he was talking about. “Reinforcing a few wards.” He shrugged. “It’s always a good idea to ride the fences from time to time.” He glanced back at her over his shoulder. “Make sure your property is clearly marked.”

  Annaleia’s eyes met his. He held them hard for a moment, wanting her to understand.

  He knew she did when her pupils expanded and her heart hammered a few times. She tore her gaze away with impressive willpower – she was unwittingly defying a dragon in his own home. And then the little minx licked her damn pink lips again, looked out at the ocean as he had been, and said, “I see. And I’m to surmise that you think I’m your property.”

  Ares watched her in silence for a moment, wondering how exactly to put the words, You are mine, without sounding completely caveman. When he couldn’t think of a way, he took a slow, deep breath. “That isn’t the question you really want to ask me, Annaleia.” Oh nice, he chastised himself. Diversionary tactics. You’re a coward, Mace.

  He imagined giving himself the finger.

  And to Annaleia, he said, “Now’s your chance, Leia.” He regarded her with a tilt of his head. “And you might not get another one.” He opened his arms. “So fire away.”

  Annaleia replaced the tongue she was using on her lip with her teeth. She worried it until it was even more plump than before, and when Ares felt he might break, she finally asked, “Well, I want to know why you never told me. That you’re a dragon,” she told him frankly. He watched as she shoved the remainder of the candy bar into her mouth and chewed hard as if it gave her courage to continue. “But I can’t even ask you that until I know for sure it’s you. Or that you’re him.” She closed her eyes and swore softly, turning away from him for a moment.

  He was such a good dragon for not reaching out and grabbing her.

  She took two steps, stopped, and turned back.

  His fist uncurled.

  “So you told me I wouldn’t believe you about how this stupid spell is broken.” She took a deep breath and let it out fast. “Well, try me.” She put her hands on her hips and finally gained enough courage to look back up into his eyes.

  Violet storms waited, lightning of impatience and desperation coursing through their depths as much as it raked through his blood. Very well, he thought. He felt himself start to smile in anticipation of her reaction. “You break it with a kiss.”

  But rather than flush or blush or become flustered, his little raindrop dragon full of sugar fuel cocked her head to the side and said, “Oh really? Well then I’m thinking you should have kissed Sterling while you were still back in the alley.” She gestured wildly to the wards that no one could see but him and continued speaking quickly, her words strung together in one long run-on sentence. “I mean, he’s the one who cast the spell so I can probably rightfully surmise that he’s the one you have to kiss, but you’ve gone and reinforced all these damn wards now, so it’s going to be more than a little difficult to get the warlock back here so you can plant one on him, isn’t it?”

  She shook her head in disappointment, real or pretend – he honestly couldn’t tell at this point, she was such a live wire. “Well done, Mace,” she said in a voice that mirrored her disappointed expression. “That was quick thinking.” And then she whirled around to march right back into the house, her long rose-gold highlights flying out behind her with beautiful flurry. As she left, her muttered, private words reached him too. “… thinks he can screw with me, and at a time like this… stupid kiss-breaking spell of all things… how old does he think I am?”

  Ares stared after her. And stared. And he kept staring, even after she’d hastily made a beeline for the hallway and disappeared.

  And then he blinked, and as his emotional reaction tried to decide whether it was amused, disgusted, seriously impressed or a healthy dose of all three, he remembered that the candy closet was down that hallway. And she was probably already back inside it by now.

  Ares swore softly and broke into a run after her.

  Chapter Twenty-five – Private Warden Meeting, Transport Located

  “I’m really not kidding even a little bit,” growled Conall Tiarnahn. “I want my warden brought back here safe and sound, and I want her brought back now.”

  “She’s unharmed, damn it,” Jacob Crow told him in a placating but serious tone. Cain could see he was trying to remain stoic and calm, but for very good reason, he felt strongly about this particular issue. “We know she’s one of yours. Okay? We get that. That’s not at debate here. But you can’t put her in chains, can you?”

  Cain almost smiled at that for all sorts of reasons. But it was a clever choice of words if Crow was trying to make the Draco clan leader recognize the improper possessiveness of his behavior.

  “You have to give the girl some space right now,” Crow continued. “She’s got some things to take care of.”

  “No, your clansman has some things to take care of, but it’s just too fucking bad if he thinks he needs to take care of them with a member of my goddamn team!”

  He was close to losing it. But so was Crow.

  The two open portals on either end of the meeting room, which was literally held in a random location unknown to everyone there, were held open by circumstantial magic. They would remain open for the duration of the meeting, providing quick escape should any of them be called for an emergency job. It happened a lot, and more frequently of late. Cain reckoned that was Maze’s doing.

  But right now Cain was glad for the portals in general; they reminded the two men at the center of the room that this was a friendly gathering – no one was on the losing side and everyone had a way out.

  He watched his second-in-command run a hand through his black hair, fisting it slightly in frustration. He was more agitated than the situation should give him cause to be, in fact. Cain wondered whether the man could sense Cain’s mood or was simply worried for the same reasons Cain was.

  Time was pressing in on them. The crowd back in Austin was restless, anxious. Something big had gone down after they’d left, and Cain’s presence was being requested by powerful people. Requested was perhaps too gentle a term for it.

  He really wanted to let the two men in front of him sort this out. Crow had a vested interest in how other wardens and their leaders handled this kind of situation. His own mate came from another clan, one with a leader who was rightfully protective of his team. Talk was tense between the two and tempers were tethered on short, very taut strings. So Jacob Crow had every cause to help inter-clan relationships run a little more smoothly.

  He had to admit it was noteworthy that two of his men found themselves in this predicament timed so closely together. But given the history of powerful supernaturals in the Storyteller’s multiverse and the manner in which they seemed to find love – and trouble – he couldn’t exactly claim to be surprised. He just needed to be prepared.<
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  And right now, he needed to step in.

  It was time to be diplomatic. For all intents and purposes, a member of one clan had been abducted by a member of another. Even dating other wardens was frowned upon, and for the most part that was for good reason. It went without saying that kidnapping them was just a touch worse. Cain was surprised no one had yet come to blows. It said something for warden training, and for Conall’s discipline.

  “Conall,” Cain said softly, immediately drawing the man’s attention. Cain uncrossed his arms and calmly pushed off from where he had been leaning against the strangely shifting but solid wall of the meeting room. “Antares is crossing all sorts of lines, and that’s just a fact.” He shrugged easily, keeping his tone very, very even. “You aren’t aware of the situation between him and Faith of course, but that isn’t your fault, and it isn’t an excuse anyway. Plus judging from the amount of fury rolling off you, I’m betting you couldn’t really care less about his reasons. He broke the rules plain and simple.”

  Conall didn’t have to confirm that, so he didn’t. But he did straighten a little, and his fists unclenched. He was listening. Probably because Cain had made it clear he was listening too.

  Empathy. It always fucking worked.

  Cain wondered how many times he was going to have to conduct this conversation with either one of his own men or a warden they’d pissed off. It seemed like only yesterday he’d done this with Gabriel Santiago.

  “So I’ll tell you what, Con. He’ll be sanctioned,” said Cain. “And barring disaster, you’ll have Faith back by tomorrow night. But until then, you back off and let them work through this shit.”

  Cain was sure that wasn’t good enough for Conall. To his reasoning after all, that would give Mace twelve whole hours with which to do whatever he wanted with Annaleia Faith. But Cain was also sure Conall had no other choice in the matter. This was a take it or leave it deal.

  Cain didn’t have time for anything else.

  “Do we have an agreement?” he prompted.