Evander (Stratham Shifters Book 4)

by Sarah J. Stone

  “But you're not king,” she pointed out, and they fell into silence.

  They had never had a moment like this before, when they were in bed and not asleep or locked in throws of passion. They didn't cuddle; they didn't simply enjoy time touching and being lost in each other’s eyes. She lay half on top of him, feeling the heat coming off his body and feeling him wince in pain a few times. His body had tensed and then untensed, and she knew he was suffering in stubborn silence.

  “Can you...” He eventually rolled over to face her. “Can you go and see Peter? Make sure that he's alright?”

  “You think he might be ill, too?”

  “No, but there's always a chance he might be hanging himself by the curtain cord,” Alexander said, and she sighed.

  “Sure,” she said, pulling herself off him. “Do you want anything in the mean time?”

  “Death,” he replied, and she rolled her eyes.

  “I think I've heard of this disease before. It's called the flu,” she said. He had heard the term before and was able to give her a look that told her he was not impressed.

  She pulled her hair into a pony tail and found fresh clothes in her suitcase, although she noted that she would have to take her clothes down to the front desk to get them laundered.

  Peter had a connecting door, but she went through the hallway, knocking on his outer door.

  It took a moment or two, but Peter pulled it open. Shirtless with tousled hair, he looked a lot like his brother, the sleep still in his eyes. Apparently, even the dragon king needed a day to sleep in.

  “Just checking whether or not you're dead” she said, switching to dragon lore.

  He raised an eyebrow, looking down at himself.

  “Clearly not,” he replied.

  “Okay,” she turned to go, but he grabbed her shoulder.

  “Where is my brother?”

  “Alexander doesn't feel well,” she said. “So, I'm checking.”

  Peter stepped into the hallway just as a maid came out of the room. She gasped at the sight of the tall, well-muscled man, looking like a male model in the morning light.

  “Woah,” Ariel said. “Peter, you're in human form. Clothes are required. I know no one walks around the palace like that.”

  “Take me to my brother.”

  Ariel simply raised an eyebrow at the command. She would have left him standing there, but she didn't want to scandalize the maid any further. So instead, she pushed past him, going through the connecting door.

  She noted that Peter's room was spotless, not that he had any things. But he didn't appear to have even slept in the bed or touched the room at all.

  She pulled open the bolted door. Alexander sat up with a start, having fallen back asleep.

  “Alexander?” Peter barreled through. “Is it Earth? Is it this carapace? What happened?”

  “Excuse me,” Ariel leaned against the door, mildly annoyed. “I've been with your brother for eleven years; I highly doubt I'm just making him sick now.”

  “Eleven years?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “You put up with this for eleven years?”

  “Peter,” Alexander ran a hand over his face. “Can I help you with something? Because if not, I'd prefer you just leave me to wallow in my misery.” He gagged then, leaning over. Ariel made a small noise of sympathy, but Peter lurched forward, grabbing his hand.

  For a moment, Ariel saw more than two feuding brothers. She saw the boys as they must have been as children – the older taking care of the younger.

  Once, they had been nothing but young children, not worrying about the throne or anything but each other.

  “You need jackoroot,” Peter said, and Ariel's face screwed up in confusion. She had never heard that word before, and she had been speaking dragon lore for years. “It'll stop the pain.”

  “I doubt...on Earth...” Alexander said.

  Peter scrambled up. “I can find someone. Your carapace can help me.”

  “My wife?” Alexander raised an eyebrow. “It's fine, Peter, really.”

  “No,” he said, looking his younger brother up and down. “It's always helped before.”

  “Before?” Ariel stepped forward. “This has happened to you before?”

  Alexander gripped the covers.

  “When I was younger. I wasn't the strongest child. It was before my dragon transformation. It's not uncommon for a dragon body to cure childhood illnesses.”

  “You weren't a strong child?” she said in shock. “You're the strongest person I know.”

  That made a smile flit across his face. He glanced to her, but it was interrupted by another dry heave.

  “Jackoroot,” she said, pulling out her phone. “I'm sure we can figure this out. Here,” she went to the TV remote, flipping it on. “Whenever I'm sick, staring mindless at the TV always helps.”

  She was prepared to find him some stupid house hunting show when the TV powered on. She was not prepared for ‘Breaking News’ to be splashed across the screen.

  “What the hell?” she said, as the news clips played.

  “Late last night, this video surfaced in the downtown area. When digitally enhanced, it appears to be a strange creature landing in the middle of the park. Some seem to speculate that it's a dragon...”

  “PETER!” Ariel didn't even need to squint at it. “That's why your bed is made.”

  Alexander buried his face in his hands. “Tell me this is not you,” he said, without looking.

  “What is the problem?” Peter asked. “Last night, I was restless, and instead of jumping out the window, I went for a flight.”

  “Peter, Earth people do not KNOW about Dragons,” Alexander said. “We agreed to keep it a secret.”

  “I thought you would have fixed that,” Peter said, “seeing as you were so progressive about everything else.”

  “I–” Alexander scrambled for the bathroom again, and Ariel sighed.

  “Alright. Peter, you and I are going to look for this mysterious Jackoroot, while Alexander throws up everything he's eaten in the past three years. Go get some clothes.”

  “You do not give me orders,” he snapped at her.

  “I'm sorry, I thought 50% of the kingdom was mine?” she said. He had nothing to say to that and stormed back into the other room.

  Left alone by the TV stand, she saw that her phone was flashing. She picked it up, wondering whether there was a new tabloid article about her.

  Instead, she found a text from an unknown number.

  Would you like to see where you spent the first 2 years of your life? Meet me in the park at 4.

  Her hand froze over the message, reading it again and again. She didn't know who it was from, but she assumed it was from her father. She had no idea how he got her number, but that was the least of her concern.

  She was concerned about how much she did want to see what he was talking about. What was it like? Where did they live?

  She was always told that she was bounced through the foster care system her whole life. But maybe there was more to the story. She knew that she needed to know, even if she didn't want to. There was no ignoring this text message.

  Maybe. What do you want from me?

  Her hands were shaking as she typed away. Her entire world suddenly existed within the cell phone screen.

  Your dragon is wreaking havoc on this planet. Last night was just a taste. Control it.

  She bit her lip, shoving her phone into her pocket as Peter came back into the room. What did that even mean? Peter had simply gone for a walk around. Irresponsible as it was, he hadn't exactly burned the city down. He had simply stretched his wings and wandered the park. In addition, she didn't control the dragons, even if she liked to think she did.

  But if the carapaces didn't want them walking around, maybe they knew something she didn't? She wasn't going to make any harsh judgments, at least not until she found out more.

  “Where do we find Jackoroot?” Peter asked. “I'll send you and–”

  “Queen
,” Ariel fixed him with a stare. “I'm not your minion.”

  “There was a body found in the park near where the alleged Dragon sighting was...”

  Both of their heads whipped up to the TV to watch as the story continued to unfold. Ariel couldn't believe her eyes as they changed to a shot of police tape.

  “Peter!” she said in horror. “What else did you do besides walking about last night?”

  “I...” he seemed confused as he watched the television. They had screens in the palace, but this was different. His eyes flicked back and forth between the screen and Alexander, who had stumbled out of the bathroom. “I don't remember.”

  “Argh,” Ariel put her hands to her face. “You have to remember killing someone.”

  “No,” Alexander spoke up. “You know that things are blurry when we are dragons.”

  “Blurry, not forgotten,” she cried. “Why would you kill?”

  “Ariel, we don't know that he killed–”

  “Right, it's just a conveniently located body,” she said. “You just fed, didn't you?”

  “No,” Peter said. “We did not go out last night.”

  “What?” she said, and Alexander looked like a guilty child. “You told me you fed.”

  “I couldn't.”

  “Because you felt sick?” she asked, but he shook his head.

  “No. Because I couldn't.”

  “Alexander!” she knew what issues were plaguing him. Finding animals, ripping their throats out, the hunt, the chase, it wasn't easy on him. But his lack of appetite was dangerous, because it could lead to blood lust. In Alexander's case, it usually just led to a weakening of his body. In other dragons, it could lead to a feeding frenzy. Alexander had trained himself to be in control of his appetite at all times. But Peter was not used to such conditions. “I can't deal with you two.”

  She slipped on her shoes, trying not to throw them at his head.

  “Peter?” she asked, at last. “Are you coming?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “But only to keep you in line. You do not yell–”

  “Just stop talking,” she snapped. “Just stop. I'll find this herb or whatever it is. I'll make Alexander stop puking, and then if the two of you can stop wreaking havoc, I have a show tonight.”

  She couldn't wait to get to the park at four o'clock Her curiosity was getting the best of her, it was true. But more than that, she wanted to get away from the dragons.

  Chapter 10

  “If I just Google pictures of herbs, will you recognize it?” she asked as they got onto the street. Peter looked at her like she had grown a third head.

  “I would appreciate it if you spoke dragon to me,” he said, looking her right in the eye.

  “I am speaking. There isn't a word that translates to that!” She fumed.

  “I would have expected Alexander's queen to have a better grasp of the dragon tongue,” he replied. She wanted to smack him across his angular face.

  “I do have a perfect grasp of dragon lore,” she replied. “But even if I didn't, I have no obligation to you or your people to learn it.”

  “You are the queen!” he roared at her. They weren't three feet from the hotel and they were already fighting.

  “Why? Because my husband knew that marrying me was mutually convenient? That was all it was, Peter, a mutual convenience. I didn't marry him to become queen, and he certainly didn't marry me to make me one. And perhaps if you hadn’t run away, this wouldn't be so hard in the first place.”

  He practically breathed fire out of his ears, which would have been a sight to see. Instead, he glared at her so hard she took a step backwards.

  “I did not run away,” he said, “as you are from your obligations now. You choose to leave your husband instead of dealing with his body, which is sick!”

  “I have no obligations to you or your people,” she repeated. She hurled her phone at him, not caring. “Figure it out yourself, or let Alexander throw up until his stomach falls out. I don't care!”

  Ariel stormed off, seeing red. How dare he act like this was her responsibility or her job? She didn't ask for any of it, and she certainly wasn't made aware of any the day they had said their vows.

  Although if she looked back over the years, she did see more and more that Alexander had been laying responsibility on her. She had dealt with Enya when Cole brought her back from Earth. She had sat on the throne beside Alexander, and she had occasionally even held throne duty on her own while he was busy. They bowed to her wherever she walked, and she had taken advantage of the fact that they would do whatever she said on more than one occasion.

  For all intents and purposes, she was the queen. He had been treating her like the queen, slowly but surely luring her into the role. She didn't want that for her life. She was a dancer, a carefree spirit, and she didn't believe in such rigid systems of government. Yet, here she was, wearing a crown on her head and letting herself be lured in.

  She knew that without her phone, she would get anxious and lose track of time. Since she travelled so much when she was on Earth, her phone was her life line to her friends. But she didn't care as she wandered the city. Peter could keep her phone; Alexander could keep her crown. How did she manage to get lured into this? How had she not noticed when he said these things and let her react this way?

  It was as if he had tricked her. He had shown her a life she thought she wanted, and she hadn't noticed because of all the shiny distractions. The worse part of it now was that she wasn't even queen to a king. He was merely a Prince, second best. And Ariel didn't do second best.

  She was angry at Peter for all of this. How dare he be so cowardly and so weak as to disappear and leave this all up to his brother?

  She was angry at Cole for bringing Enya into all of this. Unlike Ariel, Enya was small and weak, and she would need Cole the rest of her life. There was no escape, not if she wanted to live.

  She was angry at Nicholas for being a prince in a position that could never be questioned. He was often light and carefree, coming and going as he chose. He had no weight on his shoulders, nor a crown to dictate his moves. That was the position she wanted to be in.

  By the time 4 p.m. rolled in, she was more than ready to go to the park. Her phone wasn't in her hand, so she couldn't tell if they had cancelled, or if plans had changed.

  Whatever police investigation had been going on with Peter's slaughter had cleared up. The tape was gone, but no one was venturing into the park. No one save her father, standing in the middle of it.

  Ariel lingered at the entrance, watching him. He was looking up at the sky as if it had all the answers to life's problems. Where had he been all these years? What had he been doing aside from abandoning her? She knew that she wouldn't be able to speak a polite word, not after this morning. So instead, she didn't say anything, choosing instead to stand beside him.

  “Have you ever looked at the clouds and been jealous of them?” he asked her after a quiet moment. Ariel raised an eyebrow.

  “That's an odd thing to say,” she replied.

  “Well, if you think about it, clouds can be anything that they want. One moment they could be fluffy, and the next, sleek. There's no one to tell them what to do or what to be like. No one who says they can't be one thing or another. It's an odd thought, but I've always had it.”

  She could have had so many biting remarks to that comment. She was used to being sarcastic and feeling nothing. But what he said struck a chord with her.

  “Oh,” she said, looking up. “I never realized. I guess you're right.”

  “You must have thought it, flying through the sky on your dragons,” he said, and then turned to her. “Or did they never allow you to even think for yourself?”

  Ariel said nothing, biting her lip. He smiled, gently.

  “Come with me. I promised you something, didn't I?”

  “You promised me something in return for controlling Peter,” she replied. “Instead, I threw my phone at him and stormed off.”

&n
bsp; “Ah,” his eyes twinkled. “And did you speak to him about the killing? About his presence?”

  “Of course, I…” she paused. “I did, actually, when I saw it on the news. It wasn't intentional; I just couldn't believe how stupid he was being.”

  “You accidentally matched our intentions?” His eyes sparkled. “I believe that you and I, Ariel, have more in common than you think.”

  “Argh,” she shook her head, not wanting to realize any of this. “Just take me. Show me what you mean.”

  “Very well,” he replied. “But only if you promise to have an open mind.”

  “My mind is wide open,” she answered. “At least, until 6 p.m., and then I have work.”

  “Yes, my glorious ballerina,” he said. “And what do your dragons think of that?”

  “That's how Alexander and I met, so I doubt he minds.”

  “Really?” he said. “He doesn't ever stop you from your craft?”

  “He...” she bit her tongue as they walked. “He wishes I'd spend more time in the kingdom. But that is because he's addicted to me and the way I make him feel.”

  “Is it?” her father asked. “Or does he just wish to control Your Grace?”

  “What do you have to show me?” she asked again, not having patience for such heavy thoughts.

  They didn't have to walk far to get to a nondescript, brown apartment building. There were hundreds like it in the city. Ariel had even lived in one in her early days as a dancer. She didn't think that it was anything to comment on. But her father clearly had other ideas as he led her inside.

  “Not to be rude,” she said, looking around at the peeling paint and the hallway that could have used a cleaning months ago. “But if you are trying to impress me or make me feel closer to a carapace family of some kind, this isn't working.”

  “You were young,” he said. “I don't think you would remember.”

  “You don't think I would remember what?” she asked as he put a key in a lock on the first floor and pushed open the door.

  Inside was a one bed room apartment. It looked like it hadn't been lived in for years. There was over-turned furniture and debris everywhere. Ariel was sure that she saw a rat scuttling across the floor.