by Liliana Hart
The tortures that Jillian had just experienced were nothing compared to what would happen to her killers.
I just had to find them first.
Chapter Two
It was almost dawn by the time we made it back to our lair. The sky was a solid wall of grey, heavy with rolling storm clouds and almost bursting with the promise of rain. I made the sharp turn into our drive at high speed, kicking up wet leaves and slush.
The big house I’d called home for the last hundred and fifty years came into view—an intimidating fortress built of dark stone, standing three stories high and barely visible amid the towering forest of trees. Stone arches and a covered courtyard surrounded the entire outer bailey, and massive gardens of evergreen shrubs sat in neat rows between the drive and the house.
We’d lived in this house longer than any of our other lairs. With the growth of the human population, all Drakán have had to move their lairs more frequently or make major adjustments to their lifestyles. Our clan members lived in either a remote location, where people were scarce and animal hunting was convenient, or in a major city where the overwhelming population wouldn’t notice if humans went missing every once in a while. They had jobs, found mates and lived among the humans, guarding the secret of their blood fiercely. The diamond pupils could be covered with contacts and their violent natures toned down with small doses of animal tranquilizers taken like vitamins. We were experts at blending.
Our home was the main lair for our clan. It was where we had our yearly gatherings and where our people would come if there was danger. The hunting was plentiful, though not so much for my father. He was an Ancient, and all Ancients I’d ever met only ate human meat, so he had to fly to more populated areas for good hunting. I’d never been able to hunt humans the way the Ancients did. Hell, there were a lot of things I couldn’t stomach that the Ancients did. Ancients were more dragon than human—animals without consciences trapped in human bodies, tyrannical in their need for power and possessions.
The cobbled driveway crunched beneath my tires as I followed the serpentine curves around to Cal’s side of the house. Everyone in residence had their own entrance that led to their own specific wing. We didn’t spend a lot of quality time together in my family, so separate quarters were a necessity.
“I’ll get the body to Erik,” I told Cal. “Get some sleep.”
“I want to go hunting with you.”
“Not this time, Cal. They’re too close. And it’s too dangerous.” I stopped the car at the door to Cal’s private entrance on the west side of the house.
He shoved the car door open with enough force that I was surprised it wasn’t ripped from the hinges. “Stop treating me like a newling,” he said, the calm of his voice ruined by the clenched fists held at his sides.
I wasn’t in the mood to deal with a temper tantrum. I didn’t like working with anyone on my best days. Seeing this side of Cal made me question my sanity at agreeing to mentor him in the first place.
“You are a newling. You barely have a grasp on your powers of persuasion against humans. What makes you think you’ll be able to do anything but be an easy kill for an Ancient?” Drakán didn’t hit puberty until they were almost fifty years old, so even though he was a hundred in human years, he was still a very young dragon.
“I’ll never learn if you don’t give me a chance.” He was close to pouting, and I wouldn’t have been surprised in the least had he stamped his foot in protest.
I threw open my own door, not bothering to wince as it flew far into the wooded area surrounding the house. I jumped across the hood of the car from a standing position and had Cal’s face pressed against the cold stone of the drive before he knew what, or who, was happening to him. I squeezed my hand around the back of his neck and yanked his arm a little harder than necessary behind his back. I heard the pop of cartilage as his shoulder slid out of joint.
“I’m not going to kill you,” I whispered in his ear, “but I can make you wish you were dead. Continue your training. And only when I feel you’re ready will I let someone besides me try to tear the limbs from your body. Understood?”
He whimpered in agreement and I let him go, throwing myself back behind the wheel of the Land Rover and squealing around to the front of the house before Cal had the chance to get up. I was shaking with anger. The instinct to kill was close to the surface, and if I’d lost control for even a second I could have hurt Cal badly. Sometimes I hated our power, even though I knew I’d die before I ever gave it up.
I stopped the car in front of the garage and got out, taking a moment to stare at the gaping hole I’d created where the door should have been. I kicked at the front tire and couldn’t control the growl that spewed from my throat as the tire exploded in a whooft of hot air. The skies opened just as I grabbed the black bag that contained the remains of Jillian from the back of my Land Rover.
“Figures.” I closed my eyes and controlled my breathing before I did something I’d regret.
I ran to the front of the house in a blur of speed, and my brother, Erik, opened the door for me before I could turn the handle. I’d called him as we left the crime scene to let him know what had happened.
“Is there anything left of her?” he asked.
“Not much. She’s turning to ash as we speak. Just do your best. I only need a miracle.” I followed him down the curved, stone stairs that led to his lab. There were no lights—the space so dark a human wouldn’t be able to see a hand in front of their face—but we had our dragon-sight to find the way.
Erik’s body blocked most of my view. He was a large man—strongly built—broad through the chest and slim through the hips. It was the body of a warrior, and in his time that‘s exactly what he’d been. He skimmed just under six feet and carried himself like a general. His black hair was cut close to the scalp and his goatee was neat and trimmed. His eyes were a pale green, and despite the relaxed jeans and T-shirt he wore, he never looked comfortable in modern clothing. Erik’s mother, Claudia, had been the first wife of Augustus Caesar. When my father seduced her and left her pregnant with a half-Drakán child, Claudia was exiled from Rome for her adulterous treachery.
Erik hadn’t been blessed with any powers at all, other than Drakán longevity. This wasn’t unusual because of the human blood that tainted us, but it was extremely rare for someone like Erik since he was the grandson of a pureblood. His attempts to develop his powers had been fruitless over the years. Dragons could sense the strength of others around them, and Erik was no more powerful than a stronger-than-average human.
But Erik hadn’t let his deficiencies harden him over the years. He’d spent the early part of his life training the Roman armies and leading them to victory (I always assumed he spent so much time with humans so he felt like he had a purpose). When he’d gotten tired of a soldier’s life, he’d turned his interests to medicine and research. He was now known as a doctor of our clan. His lack of powers made him somewhat of an outcast, which worked out well because my ability to control minds made me one as well. We spent a lot of time together, and we were as close as any two of our race could be.
Erik took the black bag from my arms and laid it on a metal sterile table. Some of the most advanced computers in the world lined one wall, and weapons and medicines he’d invented lined another. It was a state-of-the-art lab that any scientist would dream of.
“Are you going to tell Alasdair?” he asked.
Alasdair was our father, though we never called him so to his face. He was also the Archos—leader—for our clan. And I used the term “leader” loosely. He was a bastard by any definition. There weren’t many Ancients in our clan, but I’d known a few over the centuries. Their dragon natures always overpowered the minute amount of human blood that flowed through their veins. I’d read many times that the only difference between humans and animals was that humans had the ability to feel. They had a soul. But I could say with certainty that Alasdair had never had a soul, and the longer he was confined to the
Earth Realm, forced to spend more time in his human body than dragon form, the more cruel and depraved he became. I tried to keep my distance.
“Eventually,” I said.
The human killings I’d been tracking over the last two months wouldn’t have drawn Alasdair’s notice. Humans were like cattle to him—nothing more than a source for food. But he would hear about Jillian’s death. And soon. Finding an enemy clan member’s body in our territory could cause Alasdair problems from the other Council members if we didn’t act swiftly—the Council consisted of the Archos of each of the five Drakán clans.
The Drakán were banished to Earth after the Atlanteans destroyed our Realm eleven thousand years ago. There’d only been five Drakán survivors after the attack—the strongest warriors our people had ever known—and the gods had given them the chance to rebuild our world and reclaim the once awesome powers the Drakán had been feared for. All the warriors had to do was pick a king among them—someone to lead our people back to greatness. But the warriors fought bitterly—because it’s dragon nature to be selfish. The warriors were equals in strength, so the king couldn’t be chosen by a duel. It pissed the gods off in a major way that the warriors couldn’t decide on a king, so they banished them to the Earth Realm—where our powers have steadily been diluted with every human mating.
After the Banishment, the warriors continued to feud, and that’s when the five clans were created. And why my job as Enforcer isn’t what it once was. Enforcers of old were meant to serve the royal family and make sure Drakán were loyal and obeyed the law. The Earth had been no more than a fertile hunting ground where we came for food, and the Enforcers traveled with the hunting parties to control the human minds so we remained invisible. My job now is much the same, but it’s hard to be an Enforcer when you’re not allowed to go into enemy territory. I had my hands full just looking out for my own clan.
But with the death of an enemy Drakán in our own backyard, this was a problem that was now out of my hands. As much as I hated being in Alasdair’s presence, I was going to have to seek him out and let him know what had been happening. I had no other choice, though the scars on my back burned with remembrance at the thought of facing him.
Alasdair loathed what the Drakán had become. With every generation born we were less and less of what we’d once been—more human than dragon, more prey than predator. And Alasdair hated that he was forced to rule over what he considered to be no more than food. My clan was terrified of him, but they had no choice but to bow to his wishes or face death. He kept us all under his watch, taking what he wanted and hoarding it away. And deserters were not dealt with quickly. They were tortured, eventually begging for death. They got it if they were lucky. It was a way of life my clan had learned to tolerate because they had no other choice. It wouldn’t change until someone could challenge Alasdair for Archos and win.
I turned to leave Erik and head to my rooms, but a strange scent wafted across my path and caused me to stop. It was the scent of pain and torment, and the human in me shuddered in misery. Alasdair had taken captives since I’d been gone.
“Don’t do it, Rena.” Erik grabbed my arm from behind. “Alasdair is out hunting, but he’ll punish us both if they’re gone when he returns. He wants to try to breed with the female. She’s the last woman in our clan to have a successful Drakán birth, and Alasdair said her scent is that of one who is fertile.”
“Dammit, Erik, I’m not going to just sit by and let the innocent suffer. I can’t believe you can.”
His gaze shuddered, and I saw guilt in his eyes. “Think before you act, Rena. This could be a breakthrough for our people.”
“You want me to keep them prisoner so you can play scientist and gather information after Alasdair rapes her? What the hell is wrong with you? There are children in there,” I hissed between my teeth.
“They’re children in body only, not in mind. There because their father challenged Alasdair for his position as Archos. It was a fight to the death, and Alasdair only collected the man’s wife and children to make sure they understood where their loyalty should lie. I’m not saying it’s right, but we don’t have any choice in the matter.”
“Like hell I don’t.” I jerked out of his grasp. I ran for the door under the stairs, not bothering to flip on lights as I went. I had to set them free before Alasdair came back.
The hall to the dungeon area was dank and musty. The stone walls were covered with moss and cold to the touch. My dragon speed swirled dust through the air as I followed the U-shaped curve of the hallway. There was only one way into the dungeon and one way out. And gods help us all if Alasdair came back before we’d left.
My feet skidded to a stop, and I came face to face with a woman behind thick iron bars. Hatred blazed in her eyes as she stood in front of her children, shielding them with her body. Her face was a wreck, one eye completely swollen shut and her nose broken and bleeding. Bruises marked her skin in shades of black and purple. Her clothes were torn, and I wondered if Alasdair had already raped her to begin the breeding process. I took in another deep breath, but didn’t catch the distinct smell of semen. I only smelled blood, fear and hatred.
“I’m not here to hurt you.” I took another step toward the steel cage. My mouth curled in a smile at the snarl that came from her lips and the way she pushed her children further behind her. She’d been a worthy Drakán mate.
“Get away from us,” she spat. “I won’t let you have my children. Even if they are Drakán.”
I took the keys from the wall and made slow movements so she wouldn’t do anything rash. I rifled through her mind until I found her name. She’d been the wife of Marcos, one of the strongest Drakán in our clan, and I cursed Alasdair for taking the life of someone we could use in battle if our existence ever came to that.
“Be at peace, Sarah,” I whispered. “I won’t hurt you or your children.” The cool breeze of power rushed over my skin as I took momentary control of her mind. Just long enough to calm her heart and ease her fears. I needed her cooperation if she was going to escape.
The tension in her shoulders went slack as my orders relaxed her body. Slow tears ran down her cheeks, leaving trails through the dirt on her face.
“Will you help us?” she asked. “My husband—” She paused as the tears began to fall harder. “That bastard killed my husband. We were starving. Marcos lost his human job, and our house was taken from us. The children were so hungry. They have to eat so much to build their Drakán strength. We asked Alasdair for sanctuary, just until we could get back on our feet again, but he refused. He said real Drakán would go out and take what they wanted. Conquer the humans and feast on their flesh. Not try to be one.”
“Yeah, that sounds like something Alasdair would say,” I growled.
A small head popped out from behind Sarah’s leg. A towheaded boy who looked to be about four or five, but Drakán aging worked differently than it did for humans, and I knew he had to be at least twenty. His pudgy face was covered with dirt, and his amber eyes were filled with rage, the diamond pupils only pinpricks of black.
Another child held on to his hand, trying to pull him back out of the way. This one a girl and a few years older—maybe twenty-five. I remembered from our last gathering that I’d felt a sense of power from her. It hadn’t manifested itself yet into something specific, but it would someday. Probably around the time she hit puberty. She’d be powerful like her father. The same rage that filled her brother’s eyes filled her own, and I felt a stirring of pride at how strong-willed these newlings were. It was no secret that our clan was short on numbers and seemed to have issues with fertility, but these young Drakán were our future and should be treasured. Not turned out like garbage, which is what Alasdair had done. They had even less hope than before if they stayed trapped here. Alasdair would rape their mother and kill her if she didn’t conceive, and the children would be turned out to fend for themselves.
“We must go quickly.” I opened the cage and ushered them int
o the hall. I ran at full speed, the boy and girl sharing the weight of their mother as they used their dragon speed to follow me. I slowed down as we reached the door to Erik’s lab. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. I felt the flutter of Erik’s pulse, beating furiously as he tried to control his rage. There was no sign of Alasdair.
“He’ll find us,” the little girl said wisely. “There’s no place we can run that he can’t hunt us down.”
She was right, and there was only one way they would be able to survive once they left here. I just didn’t know if they would agree to it, especially the children. We slipped through the door to Erik’s lab, and I didn’t bother to make eye contact with him as I brought the trio through. I was still too angry at his passivity to do nothing. At his ability to treat our people as lab rats instead of showing a little compassion.
I grabbed three clear vials from Erik’s medicinal shelf and led Sarah and her children to freedom. Sleet prickled against the skin and the wind had picked up so the cold pierced through layers straight to the bone. Sarah and her children were dressed in no more than rags, and they shivered violently as I herded them inside the garage.
The garage that held our cars was the size of a large house, and each slot was filled with some mode of transportation—fast cars, rough terrain SUVs, motorcycles and a sleek black helicopter that Cal had been begging me to fly. Every one of the toys in there was mine. I hoarded cars like other Drakán hoarded diamonds (though I had plenty of those too).
Most Ancients didn’t like technology of any kind, and Alasdair was no different. He always flew in dragon form whenever he needed to go somewhere, but I didn’t really have that option since I’d never acquired the ability. So I compensated with the high-powered rumble of an engine beneath the hood.
