Monsters, Book Two: Hour of the Dragon

by Heather Killough-Walden

  “Where are we, Ares?” she asked softly, all anger at his unfair attack against Sterling completely dissipated and replaced with awe-inspired breathlessness.

  “This is my home,” he told her, again his words whispering across her ear. She felt his presence behind her, tall and solid and warm.

  She flushed again, and this time the effect reached lower. She swallowed when moisture gathered on her tongue. “I thought your home in the mortal realm was in Greece.”

  “One of them is,” he said and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I have more than twenty homes in the mortal realm.”

  She thought about that, her glassy eyes still raking over everything in the cave, constantly finding something new to admire. However, she did not fail to recognize that he never said they were in the mortal realm right now. She could have asked. But right now, it was yet another thing she couldn’t care about.

  It wasn’t like her to let such details slide, she knew. But it was happening anyway.

  Another little pang in her palm reminded her once more of the pendants, and before she could forget again, Anna asked, “Ares, what is the spell Jarrod gave you?” Will it save me? That was what she had wanted to ask, but she was having a hard time pushing the words past her lips. Saying them out loud meant they were real. She really needed saving.

  She’d been expecting Sterling to explain the pendants. She’d been waiting for any one of the three men with her to tell her that they had a plan and that it was going to save her life. Everything was going to be okay.

  But then Ares had punched Sterling, and… the conversation had been effectively over. Ares had once again grabbed Annaleia and absconded with her, this time through a wordless transport.

  It doesn’t matter, Anna, she told herself firmly, a smidge of her old resolve returning. Ask the important question!

  He hadn’t answered her initial question anyway, so she did exactly that. She asked what she really wanted to know. “Will whatever it is save my life?”

  She didn’t want to die. Her eyes found their way back to the hot tub below. I want to go get in that water right now, she thought, almost sadly. I definitely don’t want to die.

  “Yes, Raindrop,” he told her. She felt his fingers sliding across her hips then, gripping her slightly. “The spell will save your life.”

  Anna closed her eyes. Obviously Ares already knew what the spell did, and she was the only one who’d been left in the dark.

  “Sterling gave me half,” Ares said then. “You have the other half in your hand right now.”

  Anna opened her eyes and Ares stepped into her, pressing himself close enough that he could look down over her shoulder as she uncurled her fingers again, revealing the pendant. She felt him gazing down at it, his body radiating heat.

  “Leia, turn around.” He stepped back, giving her room to do so.

  Annaleia hesitated a moment as a sudden wave of apprehension rolled over her. There was a note of something in his voice that she didn’t recognize. Not at all. She turned around.

  “Put the pendant on,” he commanded softly.

  But instead of obeying, she asked “Why?”

  As if he’d been expecting her to ask, he said, “The spell won’t work if you don’t.” He gave her a wry smile. “You want it to work, don’t you?”

  Obviously she did. But he was being nothing if not evasive about what the spell actually was. So she kept the pendant where it was. But she gave the tiniest, inaudible gasp then, a reaction she couldn’t quite hide, as her heart beat several uncomfortable, uneven beats in her chest. It felt as if it had been strolling along happily and suddenly tripped on something, and now it was scrambling to right itself again and continue on its way. The sensation was sobering.

  Because she knew what it was. She was dying.

  She was betting Ares knew that too. She felt his eyes on her, those eyes of a warden that were always watching, missing nothing, taking everything in. And those eyes of a dragon – gods knew how powerful those might be. He’d noticed for sure. He knew.

  “Leia,” he said, stepping closer again. “Look at me, baby.”

  Anna looked up. He stopped right in front of her, close enough to touch. Then he held her eyes as he reached down and took the pendant from her hand. She let him have it. “What aren’t you telling me, Ares?” she whispered as he lifted it and began to slip it over her head.

  The question made him pause. His cosmic eyes grew dark – so dark – an utter absence of light, as if he were using that darkness to conceal something. Something big. He took a deep breath, then as he returned to slowly lowering the chain over her head until it was secure around her neck, he said, “Do you remember the day,” he let go of the pendant so that it hung delicately over her sweater between her breasts, “that I gave you that skateboard?”

  She frowned, confused as to why he would ask such a thing. And it was ironic that she had just been thinking about that day and the scar she’d gotten from it.

  Oh my gosh, she thought, the scar! Oh no! She thought of the way Magnus had healed her wounds and the scars had disappeared. But she hadn’t wanted to lose that one! She hastily pulled the collar of her sweater down, terrified of what she’d find.

  But the scar was still there. A small pink-white line across her chest just above her left breast. “It’s still there,” she whispered, speaking more to herself than to him. But he heard her, and when he placed his fingertips to one end of the scar and slowly moved them along its length, she shuddered almost violently.

  His eyes flashed, re-claiming hers. “Sensitive?” he asked, a corner of his wicked mouth turning up with a touch of cruelty.

  In so many ways, she thought.

  But his fingers stayed where they were on the scar, and though she had no idea why, she continued to hold down the collar of her sweater to give him access to it.

  “Do you remember exactly what happened that day, Leia?” he asked, his touch continuing a feather-light path over her raised skin, despite her reaction to it.

  She swallowed hard and thought back. She would never forget that day, but he was making it hard for her to think in general. “I do.”

  “Tell me.”

  Annaleia felt warmth spread across her chest and up her neck. She said, “You gave me a gift for no reason. And I loved it.”

  Chapter Forty-five – Dragon’s Den

  Antares felt the power of his own pendant flowing through him, its dark, forbidden magic awakening the dragon within him once and for all. He’d put it on when they first arrived. While Annaleia had been scanning their surroundings, Ares had taken the pendant from its pouch and slipped the chain over his head, tucking the medallion under his shirt.

  And now she wore hers as well. The spell had already begun, and Leia was none the wiser. It was more of a relief than he would have liked to admit. The spell required something from her, something that he was certain she was willing to give. But he’d been so afraid, terrified that he’d read her wrong and she wouldn’t want this after all. He couldn’t take the chance. The coward in him had held him back, kept the truth from her.

  And now it was too late. Whether he was right about her or not, she was going to give him what he needed to save her life. She was going to do this.

  She was going to join him once and for all.

  Fifty years ago, he’d made the mistake of allowing the human in him to take over. And because of that, he’d lost her. He swore it would never happen again, and he was keeping his promise. The human part of him would have come clean tonight and told her exactly what Jarrod Sterling’s spell did. It would have admitted that there was no way to save her life, in actuality. The Withered within her had to die, and when it did, if the other part of her was still human, it would be dragged to death along with it. Not even a shot of Cain’s blood could have saved her as he had saved Jacob Crow’s mate last year. Cain couldn’t resurrect people; and Withered were already dead.

  It was down to this and only this. And Ares knew he
was damn lucky Jarrod Sterling was the underhanded son-of-a-bitch he was, or he never would have stolen the spell and perfected it. He’d somehow acquired the forbidden magic after a Withered warlock by the name of Michael Clemens had attempted to use it on Crow’s mate.

  The original spell had been designed by Clemens – who was in every respect a horrifyingly adept mage – to turn Crow’s mate, Angel, into a Withered. Fortunately he’d been stopped before the spell could culminate. And then Sterling acquired it.

  How he’d managed to get his incubus hands on it, Ares didn’t know and he didn’t care. The important thing was that he did get his hands on it, and where Clemens was adept, Sterling was a goddamn prodigy. The Nightmare Warlock refined the magical process and components, purifying the enchantment even as he also expanded its reach to include all manner of supernatural forms, not only Withered.

  Until at last he possessed a spell capable of turning a creature of any one species fully and completely into a creature of any other species.

  This was that spell.

  Annaleia Faith could not be saved as a Withered.

  She had to become a dragon.

  The process had already begun. Ares could take his time now; she was no longer in immediate danger, and she could no longer refuse him. She could not take the pendant off; this spell wouldn’t end until it was completed. He could draw this out as long as he wished and fully savor every last delicious second of it. He knew instinctively what needed to be done; the spell was so expertly crafted, the knowledge and capability came to him as if he’d always possessed them.

  Sterling knew what he was doing. And the incubus had been right. The spell certainly came with its fringe benefits. Ares had already possessed certain strengths of will over Annaleia because she was in his home, and not just any of his homes, but his main home. In the dragon realm. But the spell amplified his power over her to a heady degree.

  Ares was the one who had activated it, hence he was the one in charge. He was calling the shots in every possible sense of the word, and that knowledge surged through him like an enabling aphrodisiac. He’d promised he wouldn’t gag his dragon, stifle its strength and hunger, and he’d meant it.

  To test his strength over her, Ares willed her to pull her sweater down and bear herself to his touch. She did, and his reinforced hold on her pulled her further and further into the spell with each passing moment. She wore an invisible collar around her neck and he had the leash wrapped tightly around his fist.

  As he owned the mark he’d unwittingly given her so many years ago, he also demanded that she remember what had gone down. This was actually important. This was his way – his dragon’s way – of explaining to her what would happen to her tonight. And why.

  He watched her through his monster’s eyes, his hunger for her making him just a little mean. But that was who he was. She shuddered again under his gentle touch, and the pupils of her eyes expanded. He ate it up like candy.

  But then she closed her beautiful eyes to better remember, and he hated that. He almost made her open them again. Go easy on her, he told the dragon. Be patient. We have all night.

  The dragon just smirked. He would allow her this leeway, for now.

  “You already knew how to skate,” she said softly, her beautiful voice filled with memories. “So you wanted to teach me. You gave me my own board.” She smiled in that memory. “It had a dragon painted on it. I should have known.” She paused, probably dusting off more memories. “I had a few minor falls here and there, but you didn’t seem disappointed in me, so I kept going.”

  He could never be disappointed in her. Not ever. Not for anything. Hell, she could skin a kitten and he would just think to himself, She’s so cute skinning that kitten; and there are still so many other ways to do that, too.

  “Then one day, you wanted me to try it alone.” She opened her eyes and met his gaze.

  He said, “Go on.” And because he held that leash, she did.

  “I told you I wasn’t ready for a solo try, but you told me I just didn’t have any confidence in myself.” Her voice grew even softer, and her cheeks flushed. “You always believed in me when I didn’t.”

  He did. He remembered. Oh, he remembered that day all too well. It was part of what had led to this, here and now.

  “I did okay until a van started pulling out in the parking lot where we were practicing. The sidewalk was wet where I tried to stop, and I didn’t know how to do that yet. I started sliding….”

  Her voice trailed off, her striking gaze now caught in her memories. He watched her expression change as she struggled with the story there. Memories of accidents were almost always indescribable, either too fast or too jumbled or incomplete. She frowned as she tried to make enough sense of the accident to put it to words and paint for him a picture he already remembered with perfect clarity.

  She’d flown forward off the board, straight for the oncoming vehicle. Ares had been forced to race with dragon speed to pull her out of harm’s way. In the rush of his sudden fear, his claws had erupted. He hadn’t even noticed it. His fangs had come out too.

  That was how scared of losing her he’d been.

  In the heat of it, when the chips were down, his dragon had known to do what needed to be done, regardless of the risk or cost.

  If only he’d realized that and trusted it from that moment on.

  As luck would have it, that day Anna didn’t notice the changes in him before he managed to shove his claws and teeth back out of sight. She’d always figured it was the zipper of his leather jacket that had cut and eventually scarred her. But in truth, it was Ares who had carved a gash in her chest, just above the creamy swell of her breast.

  “I would have hit the van,” she finally said, then swallowed hard. “But… somehow you caught me.” She shook her head and looked at him with the wide eyes of someone gaining the renewed vigor of knowledge. “You know…. I could have sworn you were too far back. A block behind me, almost. But when you suddenly caught me and kept me from getting pancaked, I just figured I must have been wrong. And when I got cut in the process, I thought…the zipper on your jacket was too sharp and I was caught on it.”

  He remembered catching the scent of her blood when it happened. Many supernaturals enjoyed the exchange of blood during sex or feeding; blood was primal because most supernaturals were by and large primal as well. That day the scent hit him almost mercilessly. He would never forget the instant craving that followed, even while he was furious with the van driver for not watching for pedestrians. He almost had van driver for dinner that night.

  But now he was thinking about her blood again, so he willed her to go on, staying silent while she figured it all out at last. He needed her to understand why he was going to do what he was going to do to her. Why he was in fact already doing it.

  Anna’s eyes were sparkling like real cut amethysts now as she put the pieces of the puzzle together. “But I wasn’t wrong, was I, Ares? You really were too far back to have caught me. At least… as a human.”

  All Ares had to do was nod.

  Understanding dawned in her eyes. “I wasn’t cut on your jacket, was I?”

  He shook his head.

  “What was it then? A… a claw? A scale?”

  He smiled. That day, she could have been killed. If he hadn’t been what he was, if he hadn’t been inhumanly fast, she would have been killed. After that, Ares kicked himself a thousand times for talking her into going it alone. But years of contemplative nights later, he’d come to realize that there was no fault to be claimed in supporting her. In fact, neither of them had done anything wrong that day.

  The fault lie with him in the days that followed, because he ignored the proof fate had given him that to the dragon in him, Annaleia Faith was the most important thing in the multiverse. And dragon knows best.

  He leaned over Annaleia and very gently brushed his lips against the scar he forced her to bear to him. He couldn’t help it. He needed to be closer to her, and he knew wh
at this did to her.

  But his act had more of a consequence than he’d anticipated. Oh fuck, he thought as her scent wafted over him. She smelled like soap and shampoo and flushed, warm skin – and rain. He felt his own pupils dilate and for the first time in his life while in her presence, they began to turn. They were shifting into dragon form. His muscles tensed, his body stiffening in every possible way.

  It was his turn to shudder then, his breath fanning against her creamy skin. His hands curled tight around her arms, his fingertips aching and his teeth pressing through his gums, sharp and unforgiving.

  When she moaned and bucked a little against him, he straightened and looked into her eyes.

  Her pupils were blown.

  He pulled his will over her back just a little, and the collar of her sweater slipped out of her fingers to hide the place he’d just kissed. He steadied himself and said, “Leia, there’s one more thing…. After your fall, do you remember what you told me when I suggested you not ride for a while?”

  God, he’d been such an idiot. As if she would have ever agreed to that.

  “I told you that I wasn’t a quitter. I was tough like a tiger, damn it.”

  Yes, she had. Those had been her exact words.

  “And what did I say?”

  “You said tigers had been hunted to near extinction by humans. It wasn’t smart to be one.”

  He smiled, knowing full well that his fangs were now showing. The colors of the cave’s interior were beginning to shift for him, the contrasts becoming more stark as his once black eyes took on a purple glow not unlike hers. She stared into those eyes with the fascination of a deer in headlights as he commanded, “And now tell me Raindrop. Tell me what it was you finally said you would have to be instead.”