by Black, C. I.
What do you mean by unstable?
Remember when I said it was bad to change vessels too soon? Constantine is an example of that. Part of our spirit can get warped if we body-hop too much and we go... well, crazy.
So why did Constantine do it?
We didn’t know until it was too late. Hunter bit back a sigh. There was so much we didn’t know when we first ended up in this spirit state. Some drakes loved the idea of changing their vessels regularly, kind of like clothes.
That’s disgusting, Anaea said.
I always thought so. But others felt differently and by the time we realized it was dangerous it was too late.
The Jester snorted and started zigzagging from one side of the hall to the other.
Is that what happened to Giacomo?
He’s a different problem. And one Hunter didn’t know how to explain to Anaea.
And what problem would that be?
Nothing you need to worry about.
They reached Constantine’s chambers, the double doors inlaid with gold leaf.
I’m starting to get the impression that “nothing you need to worry about” is code for something I definitely need to worry about.
Can we talk about this later?
I’d rather not.
And I’d rather get through this meeting.
The Jester shoved the doors open, straightened as best he could with his twisted body, and strode into the King’s suite as if he owned it.
Anaea stopped at the threshold and crossed her arms. How about the abridged version?
Anaea.
She didn’t move. Hunter.
If he had eyes to roll... Mother of All, she was going to be the death of both of them. He didn’t want her to panic, not in front of Constantine, and he was certain that she would once she knew the Jester was crazy because his human spirit wasn’t strong enough to share a body with a dragon.
Oh my God, it’s bad!
Not that bad.
Yes it is. I can feel you thinking about it.
“Enter,” the Jester said with a manic giggle.
He’s me. It just flashed in my head. He was a human who had a dragon in him and now he’s a raving lunatic. Her heart raced and even without control of their body, Hunter could feel a clammy sweat chilling her hands and neck.
He jerked his consciousness back and threw up another mental shield between them. His concern was making him slip and she was hearing his private thoughts. He hadn’t believed he was leaking so many of his unconscious thoughts to her. And he couldn’t risk letting it continue. It would only accelerate their spiral into soul sickness.
But she felt his sudden withdrawal and her heart raced even faster. Shit.
I won’t let you become soul sick.
The Jester cleared his throat and waved his hands around his head. “I said, enter.”
But—
Hunter could feel a ragged sob threatening to escape. You won’t go crazy. I’ll get out before that happens. Now please. We have to get through this.
Anaea sucked in a quick breath.
He could feel her fighting the urge to nod. You can do this. Just be stoic.
Yeah. Stoic, she thought at him.
And don’t make eye contact.
What?
Think of dragons like big cats. Eye contact is a sign of aggression, a contest for dominance. Constantine might be crazy, but he’s still king.
She sucked in another breath. Anything else you want to add?
Nope, I think we’re good.
You have a strange definition for good.
Given the situation, I’ll take what I can.
You have a point. She crossed the empty receiving room and entered the king’s private chamber. It shimmered with mounds of coins—gold, silver, and bronze—and all types of jewels. There wasn’t any furniture. Constantine sat on a pile of coins, his already small stature dwarfed by his dazzling hoard.
Anaea dropped her gaze and without prompting, knelt.
Good girl. If she kept this up and luck was on their side, they might make it through this evening alive after all. When this was over, he’d disappear for a while, leave the Royal Coterie, and let someone else be Prince’s Assassin. He might even be able to survive without a coterie. During his long life, he’d developed financial resources that should be enough to sustain him. Maybe now was the time to use them.
But that was a fool’s dream. Others had tried it and failed. What made him think he could do it? Leaving made a doyen and the coterie look weak, and every doyen, not just Regis, would chase down the deserter to maintain power. And while neither death nor rebirth were options, since desertion was a private matter, there were other disciplinary alternatives that were painful and maiming.
Constantine sighed, sounding very much like his sane self. Not good.
“Rise,” Constantine said. “I would congratulate you on maintaining your position in my coterie.”
Anaea trembled but didn’t stand.
Anaea.
The trembling increased. It thrummed through her, her muscles twitching.
Get up.
“False humility doesn’t become you, Hunter.”
Anaea, stand up.
“I said, rise.” Constantine’s voice was dark, promising danger. And with the king more than halfway to crazy, Hunter didn’t even want to guess where that would take him. More than one dragon had been reborn merely on the fact that Constantine didn’t like the color of his eyes—and that was his own eyes, not the reborn dragon’s.
What do you think I’m trying to do?
Something snapped within her. It zinged through her head into his thoughts.
This was going to be a disaster. He should have told Regis he was staying in his chamber until the rebirth ceremony. Meditating or something. Not that he’d ever meditated in his life, but there was always a first time for everything.
He ground his teeth.
Wait a minute.
He could feel that.
He bit the inside of his cheek, or rather, Anaea’s cheek.
Praise the Mother of All, he had control of their body.
He stood. “Is Your Majesty attending the feast?”
“Falsely humble and falsely polite. One would think you had a personality change as well as a physical one. How am I supposed to show my appreciation now?” Constantine’s voice turned petulant and he slapped the pile beside him, sending coins skidding across the floor.
The Jester cartwheeled to Hunter, grabbed his chin, and peered into his left then right eye.
Hunter jerked back and in his head he felt Anaea shrink away. Smart girl. Getting caught wasn’t a good idea. Not that anyone could tell two souls were inside just by staring in his eyes. Only someone with sorcerer ability could tell and there were only two who were strong enough. Jade, who remained by her gate, and the Handmaiden—a true sorcerer—who stayed in her chambers. With luck the Handmaiden would be too busy tomorrow with the ceremony to notice.
What is he doing? Anaea asked, her mental voice a whisper.
Giacomo clicked his tongue three times, hopping on one foot and humming ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.’
Being annoying.
“Your Majesty, no appreciation is necessary,” Hunter said, unable and unwilling to keep the growl from his voice. It sounded strange with Anaea’s higher pitch, but he was sure it got his point across. Mother of All, just let him leave.
“I don’t know why my son is so fond of you,” Constantine said.
Regis wasn’t fond of him. Not really. But Hunter wasn’t going to remind the King of that.
“You’re trouble.”
The Jester giggled. “Gimmie a T.”
If the fool didn’t shut up Hunter was going to strangle him. Both him and Constantine. Boy, that would feel good.
I’m inclined to help, but I think that’s your emotion.
And right now, you’re not helping.
Hunter dragged his attention back to Constantine. “You
should be glad then, that I’m trouble for your enemies.”
“You are my enemies.” Constantine gasped and clutched an armful of his hoard to his chest. “Who are you? What do you want? Guards! Guards!”
Anaea trembled within Hunter, but he could sense she was still watching, studying, collecting even more questions he was sure he’d have to answer at the most inopportune time. But she was also facing her fears like a dragon should—but unlike many of dragon-kind these days.
The Jester took up the call for guards, laughing and dancing, kicking coins and gems this way and that. Two drakes rushed from an inner chamber, swords drawn, but stopped when they saw Hunter.
He fought the urge to roll his eyes. There were reasons Regis didn’t listen to Constantine any more, and had likely stopped centuries ago. Trapped, half-sane, in his current form, Constantine needed to be reborn, but Regis refused to do it. Of course, with only two gold drakes left, Regis and Constantine, that meant there was no one directly behind Regis to contend for the throne. A convenience that likely helped with the stability of Court but left a bad taste in Hunter’s mouth.
“Your Majesty.” Hunter nodded to the King and then the guards. They’d been in this situation too many times before and Hunter knew the sooner he left the easier it would be for them to get Constantine calmed down. Rebirth would be a kindness to his King. And execution one to the Jester. But neither was going to happen while Regis was in control. Court was simmering with discontent but not one coterie seemed confident enough in its strength to make a play for the throne. Not against the Handmaiden’s chosen coterie. Although perhaps that wasn’t true. Someone had broken the law. They’d shared bodies with humans, created human mages, and tried to take the medallion. Very likely Zenobia, doyen of the Major Green Coterie. Something was stirring, Hunter just didn’t know what.
CHAPTER 13
Hunter left Constantine moaning and clutching his hoard, and headed to the Chamberlain’s Office to finally get in his report before dinner. It sat at the end of the Greater Promenade, one of two major corridors that crossed, making the heart of the Primary Level at Court. The office’s enormous, plain double doors lay open—they only closed during a security lockdown, and that hadn’t happened for a good four hundred years—and beyond lay a 20th century, modern-office maze: partitions, desks, water coolers, photocopy machines, and rows and rows of shelves and cabinets filling the area.
I feel like I’ve stepped from one nightmare into another.
He felt her shiver again and knew it had nothing to do with the office. I’m told the environment is good for productivity.
Anaea snorted. I doubt that.
He could sense her fighting to keep her tone light. He didn’t want to draw her attention to the emotions he could sense her struggling with, but didn’t know how to distract her. This, my dear, is the heart of Dragon Operations.
Every Clean Team, every head of Coterie Security, those drakes placed in key human positions, and the head of Identification Replacement, all went through the Chamberlain’s Office. Not to mention the covert teams few drakes knew about: Internal Inspection—assigned to monitor dragon activities; and the mysterious Asar Nergal—assigned to eliminate any human-mage threat accidentally or purposefully created by dragons. And given that Hunter had killed two mages in the Elmsville hospital, the Asar Nergal obviously weren’t doing their job.
Hunter wove around cubicles to a small office, complete with large glass window and closed vertical blind, at the back of the maze.
All the day-to-day minutiae of running a small kingdom also went through the office, although the Chamberlain’s Second-in-Command oversaw that. Tobias, the Chamberlain, was most concerned with following the Handmaiden’s directive to keep dragon-kind a secret from humanity and in doing so, safe from themselves.
Hunter crossed the threshold into the office and Tobias looked up from his computer monitor. He narrowed his muddy brown eyes and pursed his thin lips. “So it is true.”
Anaea’s presence trembled then abruptly stilled. Mother of All, just let her make it through this and dinner.
“Too busy to watch me fight?” Hunter forced his tone into a casual drawl.
Tobias leaned his massive, six-foot-five, all-muscle frame back into his deluxe office chair away from the delicate antique writing desk. Hunter always thought it strange that the brown drake would upgrade to a chair with lumbar support but keep the rickety desk with its spindly legs. But he supposed it was only as strange as a former pirate, who still kept the dark, wild pirate hair and attire, becoming the most efficient security manager dragon-kind had seen in a thousand years.
“Tell me there weren’t more complications than this.” He gave Hunter a pointed stare. “And the mess you left was only on the bridge and in the hospital.”
Anaea shrank back from the look.
“The job’s done.” Maybe if he was brisk the interview would be short. He hated reporting in the first place, and he had less patience for it now. Not with Anaea on the verge of a breakdown. He needed to get through this dinner, switch bodies, and ensure payback for the situation.
“And?”
“Capri will also need to make a trip to the Rest Well Hotel in Elmsville.” Come on, come on. Assign the homework and be done with it.
Tobias typed something into his computer. “You know I’ll want a report.”
Of course, and Hunter would do it as soon as Anaea was safe and his hunt for the drake responsible for this was over. “Absolutely. But I’m late for dinner already so I’ll do it later.”
“Like all your other reports?” Tobias raised a dark eyebrow. It was a fight they’d been having for centuries. Tobias hoarded his paperwork and Hunter gave him a hard time about it.
Hunter sighed. “I’ll get Grey to do it.”
What, is this high school? Anaea asked. He could feel her forcing the quip but at least she was still trying.
Something like that. Please just let her hold it together. The knowledge of dragons and magic were just too much for a human. It had been proven time and again. He’d thought with her strength of will she’d resist the soul sickness long enough for him to find a new body and transfer out. But now he wasn’t so sure. Her emotions sat on a razor’s edge. The slightest thing could push her into a spiral that he wouldn’t be able to save her from—or save himself, either.
“Grey wasn’t there,” Tobias said, jerking Hunter’s attention back to him.
“Do you really think that matters?” Hunter’s reports were sparse at best. Grey’s secondhand account would be as wordy as if Hunter had wrote it, probably more.
Tobias’s gaze lifted, focusing on something—most likely someone—behind Hunter.
“Oh, man, I never thought I’d see the day. Hunter a woman,” a husky feminine voice said.
He clenched his jaw and turned to face Capri, a red-haired beauty whose petite figure disguised how lethal she was even in human form. “Hello to you, too.”
She chuckled, not bothering to hide her amusement at his predicament.
Tobias cleared his throat. “Hunter left you another cleanup.”
“Are you kidding me?”
Guess the hospital hadn’t been a simple clean and go. Of course, he hadn’t expected it to be simple, but a drake could hope. He’d need lots and lots of orchids, just as soon as he took care of his situation.
“Am I going to find the local P.D. swarming that place, too?”
Oh, probably. But he wasn’t going to point it out. For a water drake, Capri had a whole lot of fire. He could see why Grey was so interested in her. Too bad it was as plain as day she wasn’t interested in him.
“Not a problem,” lanky Gig said from halfway behind the doorframe, his perpetual state of disarray still obvious even dressed in a Victorian-styled suit. Maybe it was the mussed hair, since the suit would probably look clean and tailored on anyone else.
Capri glared at him. “That’s because there won’t be anything for you to do at the hotel.”
Which, at the moment, wasn’t on the top of his list of problems. He shrugged. “Grey’s report of my misadventure will be on your desk eventually.”
Capri barked another laugh and Tobias glowered. At least that was business as usual.
Now, onto ‘business unusual.’ He headed to the feast hall with two hurdles down. Only the feast and the rebirth ceremony to go. Thank goodness he’d regained possession of their body. Everything could go smoothly now until Grey found him a replacement.
You okay? he asked Anaea. He didn’t know if checking in would push her over the edge, but her growing silence was unnerving. And with her building strong soul magic shields around her thoughts, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking, only feeling.
Yep. Just trying to keep my eyes closed for the rest of the rollercoaster ride.
Funny how just a few hours ago she couldn’t even keep her thoughts private. She certainly was a fast learner. But that didn’t surprise him. Her situation was beyond bizarre and she’d adapted to it all. He damned well was going to make sure she didn’t go crazy and lose that which attracted him the most: her spirit.
It burned to know she was under such stress and there was little he could do about it. Meeting Tobias and Grey and learning the truth about dragons was difficult enough, but Constantine and his Jester was worse, particularly now that Anaea realized the Jester had lost his mind by body-sharing, just as she and Hunter were doing.
He rounded a corner and found Grey leaning in the doorway of an antechamber.
“So?” Grey asked, straightening and stepping into the dim room.
Hunter followed him in and the ensorcelled light brightened. Every time that happened he was reminded of how much dragons owed to the Handmaiden: discovering and shaping Court, and enspelling lights, air currents, room-to-room delivery systems, and other magical features. Even if all she did was rebirth dragons, there was no way dragon-kind could survive without her.
