Monsters, Book Two: Hour of the Dragon

by Heather Killough-Walden

  “I don’t know what it feels like to be a dragon,” she told him from her place against his chest. The muscle of his torso was honestly too hard to be comfortable against her cheek, but he was warm and secure and he smelled like the soap he’d used in the shower. Anna didn’t want to leave his embrace, not yet. She looked down at what she could see of her body from her vantage. It appeared to be unchanged; she looked human.

  However, Ares seemed to notice something different about her because he suddenly fingered the collar of her shirt. “The pendant,” he said softly. “Is it gone?”

  Anna glanced down. The chain for the pendant he’d placed on her neck was no longer visible where it had been peeking out from beneath the tee she’d borrowed and thoroughly planned on stealing from him. He gently pushed the seam of the shirt aside, exposing more of her collar bone and skin.

  As usual, it flushed pink under his attention and when she looked up, his eyes cut to hers.

  She knew she was blushing, and she knew they had little time to spare right now, but she didn’t try to stop him. “It’s gone,” she told him. She remembered now. It was one of the many things she’d seen and learned during his last bite. All those images, those facts and truths that had appeared before her mind’s eye one after another as if someone had been flipping through a deck of cards, were things she needed to know. She couldn’t remember it all right now, it was too much. But she did remember the pendants.

  “So is yours,” she said. “I saw it flash bright under your shirt when you were….” She broke off slowly and palmed the side of her neck where he’d left his marks, wondering what they looked like now.

  Ares grinned, his eyes missing nothing. Which made her blush deepen. She cleared her throat and looked away. “The chain vanished, so I know it’s gone. It makes sense that mine’s gone too.”

  “Do you feel any different?” he asked next.

  She’d known he was going to ask that.

  “Not terribly different, just peace-” Suddenly she stopped talking and blinked rapidly as surprise flooded her. With what she knew was a stunned expression, she raised her hand and slowly pressed it to her chest. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Ares, I think I can feel….” She swallowed hard, her eyes wide as she focused hard on the sounds coming from her chest.

  Her hearing was supernaturally enhanced when she concentrated. She heard the sounds beyond the deafening mass of lightning-wrought chaos outside, such as the baying of a wolf, the flapping of mighty wings in the distance, even the water flowing in some river or creek nearby. She heard an owl… someone’s footsteps… she heard voices speaking a language she didn’t know.

  Yes I do, she realized. I know that language.

  She knew it now. And she could hear everything.

  Including, most amazingly of all, her own three separate heartbeats.

  “Your hearts,” he told her gently, his eyes shining. “I can hear them too.” He waited as she continued to stare up at him wide-eyed, processing the sensation. “One beats with the knowledge you obtained when you became a dragon, the knowledge of evolutions of our kind and all we have seen and done. Another beats with the magic that you have inherited as one of our own. And your third heart… beats with everything that makes you a dragon.”

  He paused, brushing the backs of his fingers over her hand where it rested against her hearts. “You know, that third heart even looks different than the other two. I’ve seen it myself. Held it in my hands until its final beat….” He stopped as if suddenly realizing what he was saying, and then cleared his throat nervously. “That might not have been a morally shining time for me, in all honesty. It happened during one of my meaner centuries, you know dragons being dragons and all, and black dra –”

  “Yeah,” she cut him off, her tone becoming snarky. “Black dragons being particularly morally ambiguous. I remember my dragon lessons.”

  His eyes darkened, and he went eerily still. “Do you, Raindrop?”

  Anna felt all three of her hearts skip beneath her palm as memories cascaded in her mind – his bed with its four stone posters, the strength of his hold, the painful pleasure of his very sharp teeth.

  She swallowed hard.

  “Damn,” he said, exhaling as he turned away to run a stiff hand through his dark hair. “Not for the first time, I find myself hoping you are not a black dragon, Raindrop. This relationship only needs one of me.”

  Anna’s gaze slid over his profile, the tenseness in his muscles, the hard line of his jaw – the bulge in his pants that betrayed how hard he was.

  Suddenly her hand fell from her chest as her senses became hyper-focused in a way they never had before. It was dizzying, actually. She saw everything around her and heard everything around her – but she also saw something elsewhere. And she heard something elsewhere. And she didn’t like either one of them. “Ares, something’s wrong.”

  But his hands were already on her arms, steadying her. She hadn’t followed his movements; whatever was happening inside her head was distracting her. Was this a vision? No, it’s because they’re linked to me now through the resurrection.

  “I know,” he told her gently. “Someone’s hurt. We’ll go in –”

  “No.” She shook her head and looked up at him, her expression now fierce. “It’s Carmen and Piper. Those two idiots are in trouble again, and this time it’s their fault.”

  Chapter Fifty-five – Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

  He knew it wasn’t his job to watch over them. Literally, no one had tasked him with the responsibility. That responsibility had in fact gone to a few select wardens, who were to carry out the task as covertly as possible so as not to upset the two women.

  But they’d meant enough to Annaleia that she had nearly sacrificed herself to save them. And now…. Sterling sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. He couldn’t figure it out; he was too weak at the moment to properly scan either one of them, but there was something different about them now. If he didn’t know any better, he would think they had changed. Not on the surface, not in their appearances, but on a molecular level. No, deeper. In what some would consider their souls.

  Their anima, Sterling thought to himself as he watched them sneak from their parked car to a building across the street. Even in his weakened form, he could sense the strength of that anima in them both.

  Not that he’d known Carmen Seville or Piper Maddox before a few days ago. In fact, all he’d seen of them were glances in Austin when Sterling had been hanging back, biding time in the shadows, so to speak. Waiting for Annaleia to let him in again.

  She never will now. That boat had sailed, thanks to the dragon. But he makes her happy, said that voice in his head. It sucked sweaty ball sacs because it was his own voice. Because he damn well knew the truth and simply didn’t want to face it.

  And the truth was, Antares Mace was more monster than man except when it came to Anna.

  Sterling remembered the way the dragon had held Annaleia when she was dying. The way he’d fallen to the ground, pulled her into his lap, and rocked back and forth with her. His expression was desperate, his entire being radiating terror and despair. He’d been utterly wrecked, cut down by something bigger than him, something he couldn’t handle.

  The prospect of losing his soul mate.

  “Damn it,” Sterling muttered now, rubbing his eyes. When he dropped his hand again, it was to find the subjects of his spying had moved. Very quickly, too. “These two are trouble,” he told himself. He’d known they would be, though. Especially since he’d had that dream-vision a week ago, the one that confused the hell out of him.

  He’d seen a storm cloud swirling madly, lightning flying from it, sparking like wool on a dry winter’s day. Suddenly two huge bolts shot out from it at once and slammed into the ground. From that ground sprouted two separate trees, both glowing.

  He wasn’t a newbie when it came to visions. He couldn’t help but interpret the storm cloud as Annaleia. She was wild, volatile, powerful
. And so he couldn’t help but wonder whether her two friends were the trees. It would make sense, given that her power had “raised them” from the dead the way the trees had been raised from the earth.

  But… what the hell was that supposed to mean? The only thing he knew for certain was that it meant trouble. And he’d been right so far. Because here they were in the middle of the night – trying to break into a locked building that clearly wasn’t theirs.

  And succeeding! Jarrod’s jaw dropped open. He stood from where he’d been crouched in the shadows of the copse of trees across from the building they’d entered as they disappeared inside and closed the door behind them. He wished with all his might that he had even a semblance of the strength he normally had at that moment. He could have stopped them, questioned them, subdued them with no more than a thought and will. He was an incubus; they would have even loved it.

  But, no. He had to be picky about who he slept with and now the fact that he cared who and what he put his dick into was going to bite him in the ass. Figuratively speaking, of course.

  There was no hope for it but to follow the girls. As he did however, he pulled his cell from the inner pocket of his hoodie – he’d dressed down for comfort, and frankly because he was depressed – and called for back-up the old-fashioned way.

  He dialed the only number that made sense for this region, given the situation. He was a supernatural being who was for all intents and purposes stalking two human women, and he was in unfamiliar territory. If wardens got to him first, he would most likely receive a British welcome – guilty until proven innocent. What he wanted right now in his weakened state was honestly more of an American welcome – innocent until proven guilty. So he hit the phone icon beneath the number for Detective Hendrix James and let it ring.

  The detective picked up after the first ring. “This is James.”

  Of course the detective wouldn’t recognize the number calling. Sterling knew he would also probably be a little surprised to learn that the Nightmare Warlock had his number. But Jarrod was a warlock.

  “Detective James, this is Jarrod Sterling. We met in Austin.” Jarrod kept his voice low as he crossed the street and peered up at the towering edifice of steel and dark windows.

  There was a brief pause on the line before the rather renowned werewolf said, “Ah, yes. I remember. The man with the contraband spell that saved the day.”

  Sterling could hear the smile in James’ voice. Right away, he decided he liked the detective. Some of the tension eased out of him as he said, “I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, but… I need some help. It’s about Faith’s two friends.”

  Another brief pause, and this time when the detective spoke, the concern was plain in his tone. “Where are they?” he asked abruptly.

  He knows, thought Sterling. He knows they aren’t where they should be and he knows they’re in trouble.

  “The wardens assigned to watch them got sloppy. Or maybe they simply underestimated these two. Piper Maddox, in particular, is one determined individual.” He thought of the woman’s face, the way her jaw set and her teeth clenched. Something inside him tightened, and he steadfastly tried to ignore it. Especially when he thought of her eyes and the way they sparked with righteous fury. It was….

  He crouched again as he moved in front of the windows, sticking to the shadows until he reached the same door the girls slipped through. “I know she wanted to go after Price. Said something to her friend about how she owed him a death. Something about keeping her promise to him. Seville tried to steer her clear of the subject, but Maddox was having none of it.”

  Detective James made a sound on his end, some soft exclamation between irritation and proud amusement. Sterling could relate.

  “I wasn’t really worried,” Jarrod continued, “given the fact that neither Maddox nor Seville is a magic user. But the next time I went to check on them, they’d slipped away. Right past the wardens assigned to watch over them.”

  “Interesting,” said James. “How are those wardens not following them right now?” It was a pointed question, one that told Jarrod the detective already knew the answer. But Jarrod supplied it anyway, wanting to get on the man’s good side. Since he needed him right now.

  “They haven’t yet learned the girls are missing.” He realized when he said it out loud that he was breaking all sorts of rules. And why? Because he was being… selfish? Over-protective? He couldn’t put a label on these new urges, honestly. He just didn’t want other men anywhere near the girls. Especially Piper.

  “I see,” said the detective. From the tone of his voice, Sterling could tell he really did see. Maybe he understood. It was hard to say. “Where are you right now?” James asked next.

  “In your neck of the woods, but that’s as precise as it gets. It took everything I had left for me to trace them and transport here. Which is why I’m calling. The transport magic fucked up my phone’s GPS. The map function won’t even load.”

  “I’ll have a detector track you down and send help. What are the women doing right now?”

  “Well, they just broke into what appears to be the first floor of a multi-level abandoned building,” he told the detective as he slipped through the door and pressed to the wall on the inside. “And I just followed them in.” He paused, then added, “Price did escape the holding facility. And Piper Maddox is smart. If she was that determined to go after him, and she’s here… it’s possible she actually found a way to locate him, and he’s here too. I’m tapped out, so I can’t even sense whether or not that’s the case. Much less defend them against Maze if he’s here with his puppet.”

  “I’ll be there right away.” The detective hung up, and Sterling pocketed his phone, leaving it on, but silenced, just in case.

  He then allowed his eyes to change in the darkness, taking on their incubus properties. He knew this would make them glow, alerting anyone who saw them to his presence. But it would also give him perfect vision in this darkness, which was by far an advantage.

  Sterling knew he would have to rely on good, old-fashioned mortal fighting if it came down to it, but for some reason that didn’t stop him. It didn’t even slow him. Instead, he moved hastily and smoothly through the darkness, his keen gaze searching the shadowed depths for any sign of movement. They were nowhere on the first floor, so Sterling made his way to the stairwell on the opposite end of the building and started up.

  Chapter Fifty-six – Temporary Hideout, Pennsylvania

  Piper pressed her body tightly to the darkness along one wall and strained to hear. Beside her, Carmen obviously tried to calm her breathing, bending over at the waist in an attempt to get it under control and quiet it down. Piper knew she shouldn’t have allowed Carmen to come. She shouldn’t have let her friend decide to do something this admittedly crazy so soon after they’d both been through so much.

  This is nuts, she thought as she squeezed her eyes shut tight and rested her head back against the cold cement behind her. What the hell am I doing?

  Her anger had been her fuel for the last two weeks. It was just that – here was this mother fucker who had killed several women, tortured her and her friend, and then killed them both as well, and Piper was able to find his location when he escaped from prison? When the sovereigns and their super-wonderful supernatural ilk hadn’t been able to? What was wrong with this picture? Other than absolutely everything?

  She had to admit she hadn’t expected it to be so easy to find the bastard.

  Actually, it hadn’t been easy, it had just been less complicated than she’d thought it would be. Because rather than use good old fashioned time consuming methods such as receipt trails, facial recognition software crossed with security feeds, and word of mouth – Piper had used magic to do it.

  It was a sensation she couldn’t yet describe to suddenly wake up one day and stare at the ceiling and think, “I should try a spell to find him,” and realize that you’re utterly serious. Because you totally can.

  It wasn’t as i
f she hadn’t ever thought of using magic before. When Annaleia had first come clean with Piper years ago about what she was and told her about the world and all of its otherworldly phenomena, Piper had gone through two stages: The first had been a short little phase in which she made sure Anna wasn’t fucking with her. And the second was an even shorter stage in which she asked point-blank, “Can you teach me some magic?”

  But apparently magic was something inside a person to begin with. Learning spells simply channeled that magic. There were wardens who could and could not use their own magic – those were spell casters, mages, magic users, witches, and warlocks. They came in all sorts of shapes and sizes and names to boot. And then there were the wardens who had no magic of their own. This was the majority population of wardens in fact, utterly mortal beings who utilized bespelled items given to them by their warden leaders to use in lieu of their own magic. These items transported them from point A to point B, counteracted offensive spells, created shields or wards, and so forth. They came in the form of pendants, rings, tattoos, bracelets, embroidered clothing – the sky was the limit.

  It had always comforted Piper to know that if she – a normal, magicless human mortal – ever decided she wanted to join her best friend in the world of wardens, she would have these items to rely upon. But that comfort was nothing compared to what she felt when she woke up that morning with the absolute, certain knowledge that she could now use magic all on her own.

  It had to be what Annaleia had done to her and Carmen. Piper could think of no other reason she would suddenly gain the ability to cast up her own spells. Somehow Anna had not only transferred renewed life into Piper, she’d transferred a second life into Piper. Perhaps it was a little like being Withered, but without that scythe mark.