Year of the Dragon (Changeling Sisters Book 3)

by Heather Heffner

  “Stop it!” I ordered, breathless with laughter. I tried to kick him as he ruthlessly attacked my sides. Ankor paused to flash me a rare smile, and his black eyes lit up with flares of eventide behind his glasses.

  “I warned you I was resourceful.”

  Panting, I was content to lie there for a moment, feeling the electricity of our broken souls crackle between our skins in playful recognition like a slow, gentle burn.

  “She likes being near you,” I whispered.

  Ankor’s eyes widened. A moment later, I felt his arm wrap hesitantly around my waist. My stomach lurched at the touch of his hand against my bare skin. His gelled hair prickled the back of my neck, and I felt his warm breath on my cheek as he replied: “You mean you, Citlalli. Trust me, I learned this about my own Triad. This ‘Demon’ isn’t something separate that you will ever be able to let go. She is part of you.”

  I didn’t move, too tense with the awareness of his body coiled against mine. I couldn’t accept that. Demon lusted after every living thing with a pulse—and those without one. Gray-blue eyes flashed across my mind, and blood colored my cheeks. She couldn’t be part of me the way Ankor’s Triad was. I had standards, damnit.

  After a moment, Ankor shifted and muttered, “Mine likes you, too.”

  An epic death scream made both of us jump apart as our first shooter died in a hailstorm of bullets, his blood blossoming red across the screen. We glanced at each other and then began snickering.

  Ankor’s phone rang. He glanced at it and then clicked to ignore the call. After a few moments, his phone chimed as two texts came in.

  “Oooh, who’s that?” I simpered, making a mock-grab for the phone. “Is that a girl?”

  “Don’t,” Ankor warned. That was all the invitation I needed to pluck it from his hand.

  “Let me help you out here, nerd. If it’s a girl, then you’ve got to answer. Don’t play hard to get when it’s not true,” I teased before I caught a glimpse of the Caller ID: Minho.

  “Oh.” Curling my knees up, I offered the phone back. My cheeks caught fire. “How is he doing?”

  Ankor scowled as he slid the phone screen open. He scooted away further down the couch. “Okay. Once he realizes there are many crazy girls in Seoul like you.”

  “You two aren’t fighting, are you?” I asked quietly when Ankor tossed the phone to the side without reading the messages.

  Giving a massive sigh, Ankor ran a hand through his spiky hair. “Minho called a few days after I got back. I went out with him and the guys. After a few drinks, he started talking shit because he was still hurt, you know. He was trying to act like he didn’t care anymore. The guys thought it was funny and kept encouraging him. Minho asked why my father tolerated you and your poor beggar family coming around. ‘We know the daughter doesn’t put out, so how much more can the mother?’ They all laughed, and I just…left.”

  My fingers went white, they were twisting the throw pillow so tightly.

  “I’m sorry, Citlalli,” Ankor muttered.

  “I don’t care. Whatever will help him get over it.” I snorted, folding my arms and trembling. “I don’t want you to lose your best friend because of me.”

  “No.” Ankor’s eyes remained riveted on the screen as he started the level over. “I was unfair to you before, Citlalli. I told you I didn’t want you near Minho because you were a werewolf and you could hurt him. But you control your Were better than I do. You control both of them better than me. Like I said, there are plenty of other crazy girls out there for Minho…and there are more crazy best friends. We won’t be the ones to hurt him anymore.”

  My phone made a hiss like a lizard, and I slid up the screen in surprise to see a text from Thaksin: Meet. Spirit world. Now.

  Ankor attempted a grin, but his black eyes kept darting toward my phone. “Ah. Now you are getting texts from boys. Which one is it, the werewolf or your life partner?”

  I attempted a snort. “You think I find brooding corpse princelings hot? No, it’s my naga friend, Thaksin. Something must be wrong.” I spotted Ankor’s Eve gateway: a small corner of the room dedicated to spirit journeys. It was a circle of candles, fruit offerings, and a Prayer Wheel. “Can you guard my body, Ankor?”

  “I won’t let Sun Bin draw on your face…much,” he promised. I shoved his shoulder as I stumbled over to the candle doorway. The panic blossoming in my chest crunched down the sting I felt over Minho’s words. It wasn’t fair. I hadn’t wanted to be that girl to him. But I had made the choice I’d felt was right at the time.

  I lay down and closed my eye, letting the candle’s soothing spiced scent wash across my nostrils. I knew I didn’t regret it.

  Chapter 59: Road to Retribution

  ~Raina~

  I opened the door. Rafael looked up at me, his dark eyes molten beneath his ear-length brown hair. He leaned one tanned forearm against the doorway and grinned. “Hey, stranger.”

  My heart hammered in my chest despite myself. His powerfully tall frame made that doorway look awfully small. “Citlalli isn’t home.”

  “I’m not looking for her.”

  “Come in,” I heard myself say in a ghost of a voice. Rafael entered with his characteristic prowl. His lean muscles rippled beneath his white T-shirt, and his step was light and full of deadly grace.

  “You look like shit,” he said by way of greeting. I said nothing. My reflection in the hall mirror behind him showed a sullen dragon girl with purple bags bruising her eyes and lifeless, uncombed hair. Not only had I failed my final Trial of Wisdom, but I had lost my nerve in Eve. My panic could have cost Citlalli and all of our friends their lives. Luckily, none other than little Heesu had surpassed us all with her courage and cunning to save the day.

  “We should be happy,” I said. The Death Gods’ plan had been thwarted, their agent Xecotcovach was dead, and Santiago was on the run. Una was alive and healing. She was currently under the tutelage of the White Tiger to learn what her duty as the Doorkeeper, the powerful “Black Turtle,” entailed.

  “We should be,” he echoed. Neither of us mentioned it, but I knew we were both thinking about the vampyre with midnight wings whom Citlalli had protected. My throat closed. In particular, I saw with strange clarity how he had looked at her—with tenderness.

  Rafael sank down on the sofa. I grabbed two bottles of soju from the fridge and offered him one. He accepted but didn’t open it, staring off at the ceiling with a strange look on his face.

  “I was never angry about becoming a werewolf,” he said suddenly. “All I thought at the time was that it would make it easier to kill the vampyre responsible for murdering my mother and sister. Kill him, Raina. I’m not interested in mercy or redemption for the damned. Khyber, or Taeyang, or whatever he is, just needs to not exist.”

  Rafael slowly turned to look at me where I sat a pillow away from him, curled up by the armrest. “I think you feel the same way about that vile bloodsucker, Donovan.”

  Bile welled up in my throat, and then it came pouring out: “I can’t move on while he still lives. I can’t focus on learning how to bring the spring rains each year. I’m—paralyzed. My life has halted in mid-motion. He did so many unforgiveable things to me and many others…and yet, when I had the chance…I couldn’t even stop him. Me, a dragon! I’m a damned coward.”

  Rafael reached for my hand, but I snatched it away and curled it into a fist on my knee. “He raped me, Rafael. He and his underlings abused my comatose body as if I were already dead. As if I would never come back. But I did.” I gave a soft laugh, which didn’t match the fury bubbling up behind my eyes. “Once I catch them, they will be the ones who will never come back.”

  “Raina.” Rafael’s face was stricken with grief, and he made no more moves to touch me. “I-I am so sorry. I didn’t know. Does your family know? You should tell Citlalli—”

  “Why, so she can pity me more?” My violent hiss caught him by surprise. I scowled and rubbed my arms. “I will tell my family…when he is dead. I
will not be the poor, traumatized Yong daughter who failed to face her fears of Eve because of him.”

  Silence fell and cast long shadows across the room. Evening traffic blared from the streets, hundreds of cars caught in their daily routine. They shuffled along the same stretch of road every day, looking ahead but never behind.

  Rafael hunched forward and put his elbows on his jeans. “There is a palace in Japan,” he began in a low voice. “It is a stunning place, hidden high in the Akaishi mountain range where few go. I would have never found it…if I hadn’t been brought there as a prisoner.”

  I turned to look at him. Rafael’s face was enveloped by the evening shadows as he continued: “There used to be another vampyre prince I am thankful you never had the horror of meeting. Takakazu was just before yours and Citlalli’s time, but he was an awful, wretched madman who was the scourge of the Seoul werewolves and Japanese werebears. He loved to kidnap wolves, bring us to his Death Palace, and then set us up in all sorts of terrifying mazes and fight rings. It amused him, to push us until we turned on one another. And the fights between bears and wolves were always entertaining to his feared Blood Knights, an intelligent and deadly skilled class of vampyre.”

  “Like Santiago’s Compañia Rojo,” I whispered, and Rafael nodded.

  “My packmates and I had to do many unspeakable things to survive there. In the end, they didn’t even make it.” Rafael’s throat closed, and he blinked several times before continuing: “Their sacrifice was not in vain. I teamed up with an old friend and a werebear chieftain, and together we were able to lead a revolt against Takakazu. I killed the crazy leech myself. However, even though Takakazu is long gone, his Death Palace remains. It is heavily armed and booby-trapped, and countless blood-drenched ghosts stalk its halls. It is also where Donovan and his followers have retreated.”

  I slowly looked up. Rafael hesitated and then reached into his pocket. He pulled out two plane tickets. “I have no right to ask this, Raina. I am your sister’s ex-mate and a pack breaker. But I also know your pain: It is an old friend whom I wake up with every day and go to bed with every night. I promise you this: If anyone can help you take down Donovan, it is me. Will you…come with me?”

  When I accepted the plane ticket, my hand brushed his. Golden warmth seeped through my skin. I could feel the glow of his gaze heating my cheeks, but I couldn’t answer the other question in them. Still, I allowed myself a small smile.

  When I returned from Japan, Vampyre Prince Donovan would be dead.

  Chapter 60: Cold is the Blade of the Knife

  ~Heesu~

  Yong Heesu sat on her bed and watched the Yeouiju. It was an eternal night sky trapped within a sphere. Its spinning stars and black holes sucked the mind down to deep places. Heesu could never gaze upon it for too long or else risk being reminded of the futility of grasping infinity.

  However, the Yeouiju had begun to tremble again. Heesu bit her lip. She still hadn’t been able to find where she’d sent Appa in Eve. But the Dragon King was powerful. He must have escaped by now.

  The Yeouiju kept shaking, and deep down inside, Heesu feared it was because of her. She hadn’t been the right imugi to catch it after all. It was supposed to have been Sun Bin, the shining heir to Yong Enterprises, or Ankor, who had read every word written about the Dragon’s Pearl. Even Raina would have been a better choice. Her older half-sister had successfully faced all of her fears and almost passed the Trials of Wisdom, despite having only known about her dragon heritage for a few months.

  A great wave of fear struck her without warning. Heesu dropped to her knees before the black pearl. Her fingers dug into the bedspread. How was she supposed to tell the twins about Appa? She had tried several times now, only to close her mouth at the last second. She couldn’t speak of the terrible things he had done. It would change everything.

  The door creaked, and Heesu whirled around. Nyssa raised her hands, smiling. “My apologies for startling you, Mistress Heesu. Did you need anything else tonight?”

  “Is there any word on my father?” Heesu whispered, still lost in the entrancing pull of the orb.

  Nyssa’s mouth twitched. “None.”

  Heesu bounded from the bed and threw her arms around her childhood governess. “Oh Nyssa, what am I supposed to do? I was trained to bring sunshine and to temper the monsoons during summertime, not wield the Yeouiju in a war against the Twelve Death Gods!”

  The nagi patted her back, her scent tinged with lotus blossoms and the reassuring smells of the kitchen: garlic, ginger, and cabbage. “You’re not alone, Heesu-ya. The entire Were Nation is behind you, and Sun Bin will counsel in your father’s absence. Would you like me to comb your hair?”

  It was a nightly ritual they’d observed for years. Every evening before a big class presentation or a taekwondo sparring match, Heesu would sit in the rigid pine chair in front of the mirror, and Nyssa would comb her hair until it was gleaming black glass. They would have a record on: one of Umma’s folk songs from the days when she used to sing, and they would hum it together. Sun Bin never had the patience for such things, but this was how Heesu felt close to her lost mother.

  Appa would sometimes lean in the doorway and listen, his eyes taken far away by his deceased mate’s lilting voice. Heesu looked for him now as she took her place on the pine chair. Yet this time, she saw his eyes erupt into molten slits and his feet leave bloody stains when he walked.

  Take Raina’s powers, and then your siblings’. Otherwise, they will plot to overthrow you.

  Heesu tried to shut out the rest of his grim tidings, but the Dragon King’s voice cut in ruthlessly:

  No other Yeouiju will fall this age.

  Nyssa didn’t put the record on. She began to drag the comb through Heesu’s hair in rough, shaky strokes. The silence became deafening. Heesu’s gaze drifted to the mirror, and she caught the tear in Nyssa’s eye.

  “Nyssa, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I—” Hesitating, Nyssa leaned over Heesu’s shoulder and took her hand. “Are you really the only one who can wield the Yeouiju?”

  “I am.”

  Nyssa closed her eyes and nodded. Heesu looked down when she heard the comb drop to the floor, which was why she didn’t see Nyssa’s features narrow and molt. The nagi’s eyes were as green as emeralds when she opened them. A serpent tongue flicked between Nyssa’s teeth, and then she snapped Heesu’s neck.

  Gently, Nyssa laid the girl’s broken head back over the chair. Crouching, Nyssa withdrew a knife and examined it. “Out of all of Mun Mu’s children, I do regret it had to be you,” she told the dead girl and then sawed off Heesu’s half-manifested hand.

  Approaching the bed, Nyssa slid the Summer Dragon’s hand beneath the Yeouiju. Lifting the Dragon’s Pearl, she gazed into its fathomless depths and clicked her forked tongue wearily. It had been a long time, and her memory had grown weak in Mun Mu’s captivity. Did she still remember how?

  The Yeouiju’s face shimmered for a moment under her hypnotic serpent gaze and then boiled up in an eruption of stars. When it cleared, there was the vampyre.

  The Death Gods’ servant, Vampyre Prince Santiago, whirled around with nostrils flaring. He was all alone in a dark place, and Nyssa’s presence had drowned out all light.

  “Who’s there?”

  “I am three things,” Nyssa said softly. “I am a goddess who has been freed by your efforts, I am an ally to the Lords of Death, and I am the current bearer of the Yeouiju.” The darkness shifted to collect into the image of a black eared snake.

  Santiago sucked in his breath, and his eyes burned gold with bloodlust. “Eobshin.”

  The Korean goddess of wealth smiled. “Tell me: is Mun Mu still trapped?”

  “He is.”

  “Then I am free to make my way to you. Do not despair, Child of Death. The Twelve are not the only deities who wish the mortals to be swallowed by their self-absorbed greed. The only thing these humans hold sacred is their vanity; let them burn.”

&n
bsp; “I will await your arrival.” Santiago bowed low.

  The shadow serpent broke her gaze with the Yeouiju, and starlight flooded the orb again. Features receding back into that of a young Thai woman, Nyssa grabbed the knife and strode briskly from the room without a backwards glance.

  Chapter 61: The Heart of Deception

  ~Citlalli~

  Something was wrong in Eve. A dark curtain hung over the air, and the few ghosts I spotted darted away like fish afraid of being caught out in the open. I sensed anger lingering in the air, cast by some great spirit who had recently stalked the grounds of the spirit Yong villa. Around and around, this beast had paced. I hesitantly descended down a dimly-lit staircase to the garden.

  Thaksin was waiting by a fountain of three stone Buddhas. Each one of the statues reenacted Speak No Evil, Hear No Evil, and See No Evil. Thaksin and I embraced quickly and then pulled apart. The naga man’s face was somber.

  “Thaksin, what’s going on? Your message said it was urgent,” I said, folding my withered arms as the cold crept in.

  The werenaga cast a long look at Yong Villa. “I am not sure, Citlalli. Your pack won such a great victory in the Battle of the Southern Isles. But something terrible has befallen the Dragon King.”

  I hesitated. “I think my sister and Heesu may know what happened. It sounded personal.”

  “Ah yes, Yong Heesu is the new Celestial Dragon. Please express my homage to her.” Thaksin bowed briefly. “However, it is something your sister said when we met in Cambodia that has been bothering me for some time. The way her words prickle like a thorn when I dream, it is not natural. I think the spirit world is trying to tell me something.”

  My fear deepened. “Wait, you don’t think Mun Mu’s disappearance is linked to Heesu ascending to become the Celestial Dragon, do you? Can he fade because the new seasonal cycle has begun?”