“La revedere, Priestess-sss.” Tareek flipped, extending his wings.
Tossed like a rotten apple, Afina hung motionless a moment: Tareek, a red streak above her, the Jiu, a ribbon of indigo below. The blood crystal’s glow faded. She reached for it, stretching hard for the gold chain. Her hand caught and held as Tareek surged skyward. She followed his ascent, jerked up like a sturgeon on a fishing line.
The amulet thumped against her breastbone as Tareek banked hard. Flung wide, Afina gritted her teeth and hung on, cursing the goddess for her absence. Mother Mary, it never failed. She was about to freefall to her death, and where was the dratted deity?
Nowhere to be found.
Arm muscles straining, Afina sailed into Tareek’s next turn. Fighting momentum, she reached up with her free hand. She needed a better grip, a secure one. Otherwise Tareek would shake her loose and laugh while he watched her fall.
The image gave her strength, and kicking her legs, she propelled herself upward. Just as her left hand grabbed hold, the dragon curled his head under and snorted. Sulfur hit her full force, singeing the inside of her nose. Her lungs seized and pressure built until pain crawled the inside of her chest. Unable to breathe, desperate to hold on, she brought her knees up and curled her body around the medallion.
The amulet’s white crystal struck the medallion’s red one. Lightning flashed, zigzagging across the night sky, striking so close Tareek flinched. The next strike lit Afina up from the inside out. Her heartbeat slowed. Her eyelids grew heavy and her body light. Blinking, she tried to stay with it and not drift. But a chill slipped through her, relaxing her muscles, forcing its way into her mind until...
She floated carefree and boneless into a pool of clear, bright light.
Invisible hands brushed her face, cupped her hands, pulling her through a blanket of fluffy white fog. Afina blinked to clear her vision. Had she lost her grip and fallen? Was this what dead felt like?
She put one hand to her chest and felt her heartbeat...along with cold metal. She glanced down. Cheek to cheek with the medallion, the amulet hummed, opening her senses wide. Afina found Tareek on the other side of the fog. He was still flying, still trying to shake her loose. Strange. Her body was still with him, but her mind was somewhere else.
Blood stirred, rushing in her ears. Afina listened to it. Heard the magic rise. Felt the burn as she flew into another time and place.
Movement caught her attention, and she glanced down.
Beech trees stretched up toward her, leaves full and green. Pushed by a gentle breeze, the branches swayed, parting enough for her see beneath the wide canopies. She frowned. Three men lay stretched out below, cushioned by soft turf and watched by blue skies. The scene looked peaceful enough. Nothing more than tired men resting after a long day’s work.
Except...
Something was wrong.
Perhaps it was the rancid smell beneath the trees. Perhaps the stillness in the air, but somehow Afina knew their sleep was unnatural; not their choice at all, but a forced slumber induced by...what?
Her brows drawn, she floated above, searching for the answer.
Afina tensed as her mother stepped into view. Gold winked in the sunlight, drawing her focus to the three medallions clasped in her mother’s hand. Black magic swirled around her as Ylenia strode toward the warriors lying like corpses beneath the trees. Halting at their feet, her mother raised her hands. Discs clinking together, she spread her arms wide and started to chant. The ancient language throbbed through the glade. It gathered speed until darkness came, obscuring the sun.
A bitter taste in her mouth, Afina flinched as her mother placed a medallion against each warrior’s heart. Ylenia murmured an incantation. The thick chains fused behind their necks, imprisoning each in magic, and her mother smiled. The sight made Afina’s stomach heave. How many times had she seen that satisfied smirk?
After every beating. After every humiliation. After every act of deceit.
Tears threatened, but Afina refused to let them fall. The warriors were in trouble, but there was little she could do to help them. She’d been drawn to a distant time by the medallion. Not to participate, but to watch, to bear witness to the past and her mother’s perfidy.
Red light crept from each blood crystal, staining the men and the ground around them. With a cry, they awoke, features twisted, bodies arching as bones cracked and muscle grew, transforming each into their new form. Afina clenched her teeth on a cry of dismay and watched the dragons rise—docile, subdued by her mother and black magic.
Ylenia turned to the man across the dell. “I have kept my end of the bargain. Now your promise, assassin.”
Eyes as black as the pit of hell, the man held out his hand. “The incantation needed to control them.”
“Your promise first, Halál” her mother said, holding tight to the piece of parchment. “I will not release them until I have it.”
Halál planted his boot on top of the boy at his feet. His gaze still on her mother, he raised his fist and slammed it into his captive’s temple. “You will never see or hear from him again. My word.”
Unable to stop herself, Afina’s gaze dropped to the boy. Dark lashes forming half-moons on his cheeks, blood flowing from a crescent-shaped cut delivered by the assassin’s strike. A memory stirred, and she was five years old again. Crouched behind the rose thicket, she and her brother hid from a red-haired warrior, playing hide and seek. It had been her favorite game, and as she looked at the boy Afina remembered his face, his laugh, and how well he’d thrown stink-balls from her window onto the unsuspecting guards below.
A terrible ache settled in the center of her chest. She blinked away her tears. Oh, goddess...Heny. Her brother wasn’t dead—wasn’t buried in the awful little cemetery behind the White Temple. He was across the clearing: bound, gagged, unconscious from the blow.
The funeral had been a lie. Naught but a ruse to hide her mother’s sin.
“I will hold you to it,” her mother said, giving Halál a pointed look.
The man bowed, tilting his head in reverence. “The paper.”
“They are yours, as is he.” Her gaze dropped to Heny, disgust alive in the angles of her face. The look was one Afina recognized; one she’d been treated to time and time again. She covered her mouth with her palm, the horror of it more than she could bear as the parchment changed hands. “Use him well. Make him suffer.”
“My specialty, Priestess.”
Wrapping his hand in Heny’s tunic, Halál dragged him toward his horse. Even knowing she was powerless to stop it, Afina lost control. She screamed and reached for her brother, striking out with all the loathing she felt for her mother. The spell inside Tareek’s medallion recoiled, betraying its structure.
Afina latched on, hunting for the invisible threads. Like a spiderweb, thin bands crisscrossed inside the medallion. Black magic seethed in each connection; the evil a measure of her mother’s madness. Afina could see her signature everywhere: in the slither and slide of each knot and the hatred written into the webbing. It was more than she could take. With a roar, she unleashed her magic and clawed at the network inside the blood crystal, turning the darkness to dust.
The chain holding the medallion unlocked. Gold rattled. Tareek snarled as the links slid against his scales. With a yank, magic hauled Afina out of the glade and through the fog. She slammed back into her body, jerking, gasping, breathing the night chill as it slapped against her face.
Oh, goddess. What the devil had she done?
The medallion was her only handhold. And now? The chain was slipping free and—
Tareek roared and twisted, arching as though in pain. Flipped by his momentum, Afina tumbled up and over him. His powerful wing came around, and she met his gaze over the webbing. Greens eyes wide, he reached for her. The heat of his claw encircled her wrist as the bones in his face shifted.
Afina heard the crack as he threw his head back on a shriek. An instant later, she was tangled up with a man instea
d of a dragon. Eyes the same hue as Tareek’s, dark red hair blew around his head as he stared at her, awe deep in the planes of his face. Suspended in the moment, Afina stretched her hand toward him. She knew him. Had seen him before as a child. In the garden, playing hide and seek.
“I know you,” she said, gripping his forearm.
He didn’t answer, simply studied her as their bodies stopped traveling up and started to come back down.
“The goddess preserve me,” she whispered as the stars spun and they dropped, falling without his wings to carry them.
Tightening his hold on her, he swung them full circle, putting his back to the ground.
“Tareek!”
“Relax, Priestess.” Eyes crinkled at the corners, a slow grin spread across his face. He tugged her closer, brought his foot up, and planted it against her breastbone. His expression smoothed out, turning serious as he said, “Do not drop the medallion.”
“No. Don’t...d-don’t—”
With a grunt, he kicked out, tossing her above him like a baton. Afina screamed as she shot upward. The medallion slipped against her sweat-slicked palms. She grabbed for it, catching the links with her fingertips.
Tareek transformed, shifting into the red dragon. Lightning quick, he plucked her out of thin air, his talon a firm weight around her rib cage. As he secured his hold and unfurled his wings, he tucked into a dive and headed for the cliff edge.
A death grip on his leg, Afina watched the ground approach. Tareek banked right, and she got a clear view of the field below them.
“Thank the goddess,” she gasped, spotting Xavian.
Little more than a black blob on green grass, he stood back to back with Henrik. Swords protecting the other, they moved in concert, the dance as beautiful as it was deadly. The dragons shifted around them, scales gleaming in the moonlight, advancing with one goal in mind: separate the men, move in for the kill.
Afina hammered Tareek’s foot with her fist. With a snort, he tossed her an annoyed look.
She hit him again. “Tell the others to back away.”
Tareek ignored her and, wings spread wide, prepared to land. Afina bucked, screaming a warning as Violet Eyes circled around behind Xavian. Movements coordinated, the younger dragon drew Henrik’s fire and raised his spiked tail. Green scales flashed as it flew overhead and slammed into the ground at the men’s feet. Both jumped, trying to avoid the backlash when the dragon pivoted. Another scream locked in her throat, Afina watched helplessly as the huge spikes caught their boot heels and sent them tumbling.
Quick to recover, Xavian kicked to his feet, but it was too late. Violet Eyes was already moving. With a growl that sent shivers down her spine, he knocked Xavian down again. Talon unfurled, the blue dragon pinned him, razor-sharp claws on either side of his head. Henrik notched an arrow and took aim. Still twenty feet in the air, Afina focused on the arrowhead, willing a straight shot and a true target.
Before he could release the arrow, the green dragon engaged. Henrik turned to protect his flank, leaving Xavian without help. Afina’s heart skipped a beat then thumped hard. Running on pure instinct, she threw her hand out. Air rushed to meet her palm then pushed out, roaring toward Violet Eyes. With a hiss, he shifted. And she missed. Dirt exploded, the air blast tearing a trench in the earth six feet wide beside him.
The spikes along his spine aligned, tail swishing like a cat’s, Violet Eyes crouched above Xavian, his gaze following her descent.
She raised her hand again.
Tareek squeezed her rib cage. “Temper, temper, Priestess-sss.”
“Tell Violet Eyes to let him go!”
With a grunt, Tareek touched down on his hind legs. He hopped once then dropped her. Afina landed hard, but ignored the pain and rolled, using her momentum to gain her feet. She needed to reach Xavian. If she got close enough, she could set up a shield and send Violet Eyes flying.
Constructing a barrier in her mind, she lengthened her stride, her gaze locked on Xavian. A growl sounded at her back. She zigzagged, praying Tareek missed. Luck wasn’t with her as the dragon pounced, knocking her flat from behind.
Claws turned to fingers as he shifted into a man. Wrapping her hair around his fist, he hauled her up and back, away from Xavian.
“No!”
“Be silent.” With a quick kick, her feet left the ground, and Tareek forced her to her knees.
Her back to him, she raised her hand to blast him. He brought the medallion up and wrapped it around her throat. Afina gagged as the blood crystal settled under her chin, searing her skin. Pain arced, and she screamed as the gemstone opened a doorway inside her, sucking the magic from her blood until she was nothing but a shell with an empty inside.
“A word to the wise, Priestess.” His mouth against the curve of her ear, Tareek murmured, “Never allow a blood crystal near your throat. ’Tis as good as any noose, strangling the life from your magic.”
She coughed and clawed at Tareek’s forearms.
He twisted the chain, tightening it turn by turn until her back bowed. Leaning in, he met her gaze. “What...Didn’t think you were invincible, did you?”
“But...” Unable to get enough air, she wheezed as the blood crystal pressed against her windpipe. The gemstone burned and magic rippled. Agonizing pain sank deep, eating at her. Afina fisted the amulet she wore. “How? I wear one...every day.”
“White, not red.” He shifted his hold on the chain, improving his grip. “Hristos, didn’t that bitch teach you anything?”
Afina shook her head, hopelessness swelling inside her. She was so unprepared. Knew nothing about the role she was meant to play. She wanted to cry, but couldn’t. Tears wouldn’t change the outcome. Begging, however, might.
Her hands around the gold links, she tugged, needed some slack to speak.
Tareek retaliated, pulling on the chain until her spine arched. “Behave.”
“Promise me...he won’t be...hurt.”
“I promise you nothing.”
The tears she’d fought so hard not to shed spilled over her lashes. As the droplets streaked her cheeks, desperation took hold. She needed to make Tareek understand. Her family’s crimes were not Xavian’s. If they wanted blood, she would gladly give them hers to see Xavian safe.
“Tareek, please,” she said, her voice a mere wisp. “I will pay...take the blame for my mother’s crimes, but please, let Xavian go free.”
A muscle jumping along his jaw, he looked way without answering.
Afina closed her eyes. The dragon shifter’s hatred was absolute. He would give no quarter, and neither would the others.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The talon pressed him into the ground, cutting off his air supply. Xavian twisted, wedging his hand between the massive claw and his chest. He needed some wiggle room. Not a lot. Just enough to reach the blade sheathed against his back. The thick scales were impenetrable, but he’d found a weakness...right between the bastard’s toes.
Devoid of scales, his knife would sink deep into the dragon’s flesh, ripping at muscle to reach the bone beneath. But first, he had to reach the christing thing.
Xavian slammed his fist against the beast’s knuckle and shifted sideways. He didn’t have much time. Though he couldn’t see Afina, he could feel her. So much pain. The bastard was hurting her. And he was stuck: unable to reach her, unable to help her, unable to stop Tareek from...
He couldn’t stand it. She was so close. So damn close.
Baring his teeth, he roared, “Afina!”
The blue dragon’s eyes narrowed on him. “Quiet, human.”
Xavian snarled in answer, shoved harder, grinding his back into the ground. His swords were gone, lost in battle among the field grass. But his double scabbards did their job, gouging the earth, digging a hole beneath him. The smell of dirt and turf clogged the air, mixing with the chill of midnight. He hammered the bastard again. Harder than stone, the scales split his knuckles wide open. He smelled blood. Knew it was his but didn’t care.
“Hristos, so fucking stubborn.” Violet Eyes lowered his head, bringing them nose-to-nose. “Cease, Xavian. You do yourself harm and little good. You cannot hurt me.”
“Let her go.”
“Or what?”
“I’ll rip your head off.”
The dragon snorted. Tendrils of smoke curled from his nostrils as he shook his horned head.
Steel clanged against scales. The echo rang in his ears as Xavian looked left. Christ, Henrik had engaged the green dragon. Twin blades flashing, he struck over and over, trying to drive the beast back into Violet Eyes. ’Twas a sound strategy. The dragons were too big to fight in close proximity. At least on the ground. One would eventually unbalance the other and—
The dragon holding him captive sidestepped, dragging Xavian with him. As he lifted his claw, a narrow sliver opened beneath Xavian’s back. He stretched hard, fingers spread wide, and palmed the knife hilt. The grip felt like home as the metal edge rasped against leather. He brought his arm up and around. Moonlight touched steel an instant before he rammed the blade between the dragon’s toes. It sank to the hilt in the webbing, finding vulnerable flesh.
The beast’s eyes went wide. He sucked in a quick breath, the sharp sound momentary before his paw jerked, up and back. Xavian went flying. Twisting in midair, he came down feet first and rolled, eyes on the ground, searching for his weapons. Moments turned into an eternity. Where were they?
Steel peeked between tuffs of field grass.
Locked on, Xavian lunged, curling both hands around the hilts. As the leather grips settled in his palms, he kicked to his feet and raised both blades. Picked up by the night breeze, his war cry echoed across the field as he leveled his swords at Violet Eyes’ head.
The dragon shook out his paw. Looking annoyed more than hurt, he said, “You are a pain in the ass.”
“I aim to please.” Xavian shifted right. He needed a way around the scaly bastard...that or a clear throwing lane. If he timed it right the redhead holding Afina wouldn’t see the blade coming until it took his head off.
Knight Awakened (Circle of Seven #1) Page 23
