Curse of Iron

by D. D. Miers

  I bent to pull my athame out of my boot, but I was knocked sideways and hit the wall, the knife clattering from my hand.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Will chided me. “You can’t hurt my girl.” Shenna glanced over her shoulder and snarled at me. “Don’t worry, Shen, just take care of the detective, and I’ll take care of this bitch.”

  I flinched, taking a deep breath and kicked out as hard as I could, takin him in the knee. I might have lost the use of my magic, temporarily, but his was gone too. It was a fight we’d had before in the ring, and I’d won enough times to know I could again.

  He howled as I dislocated his knee and dropped on me, driving his elbow at my head. I barely had room to roll out of the way, but I pressed myself against the wall and his elbow hit the tile, making him scream again.

  Will was panicked, he knew he’d lost the war and was desperate. He lashed out with his legs, managing to catch me in the thigh as I crawled away from him to regroup. I stayed on my feet but wasn’t ready when Shenna tackled me and we went sprawling across the tile floor, my hair draped over the edge of the pool and into the water.

  But Shenna was a wolf, and like it or not, she was mine, too. I flipped us and grabbed her shoulders, my hair dripping in her face as I found her beast and tore it from her, taking her magic at the same time.

  I was bleeding from my scalp where I’d hit the wall, and I pushed my fingers into the wound and pressed my bloody fingers to the floor, making it ripple as the plants finally came to me.

  I felt Will coming at me as Shenna writhed and fought to maintain her human form. I let him get close and dodged his heel strike, painting the remaining blood on my fingers down his arm. I felt his hunger, and he felt the magic in my blood.

  But I misunderstood the depth of his depravity. He shoved Shenna away from me, into the water, and dove at my neck like a creature from a campy vampire movie. He worried at my jacket like a dog on a bone, trying to get to my neck.

  “Well, thank the gods Penelope talked me into so much leather the last time I re-upped my wardrobe,” I muttered, and rolled us so I was straddling him, and his face was buried in my lapel. I worked my arm out of the jacket and shoved it against his face, suffocating him, but gurgling behind me told me Shenna was in trouble.

  My eyes went to the doors, Where are they? I let go of the jacket and glanced toward the pool, where Shenna was going down again. “Because of course I get to save her,” I complained aloud. Will had gone quiet and still, and I left him, jumping in after the rogue she-wolf.

  I pushed her out, so she rested, gasping, with her legs and feet in the water. I pulled myself up with my hands next to her. Suddenly, Will’s angry face filled my view and he grabbed my neck.

  “Your blood feels so good. Give me more.” His eyes were glazed and unfocused, his speech slurred like he was drunk. My blood had made him elf-struck, shit. I filed the information away with a billion other things I’d never have the time or the peace to think about.

  I punched him in the face and he shoved my head under water, holding me there as I fought to make him let go. I broke the surface long enough for a quick breath and was pushed under again. My wound had healed, I had no blood to draw from, my Fae magic was exhausted and couldn’t save me.

  He relaxed for a moment and I clawed my way to the surface again. But I was back under so fast I got more water than air, and panic set in as my lungs filled with chlorine. I tried to see, but my vision was blurred with blood as the capillaries in my eyes began to burst from lack of oxygen.

  Just as my legs got too heavy to kick, the world went black and I felt myself falling, but I didn’t have the strength left to care.

  Twenty-Four

  “Shit. Morgan. Wake up,” Grayson’s voice was muddy and distant, but he was there, somewhere outside the damnable cold I was cocooned in. “Morgan.” I was shaking, not with the cold, but hands, shaking me until my teeth clacked together.

  “S-s-s-stop,” I mumbled, praying he’d heard me. “S-s-so cold.”

  “She’s awake!” he yelled. He kissed me and wrapped something around me. “You’re okay, Morgan. Will’s dead.”

  I cried softly, curling up with my knees to my chest while he held me. I knew he thought it was for what I’d been through. But I was crying for Will too, who had wanted to be Fae again so badly he’d lost everything, until he lost his life too. “Shenna,” I chattered. “He and Shenna are a couple.”

  The room came into view after I cleared the garbage from my eyes and looked around. Tracy was sitting up, a police woman in uniform talking to her in a low voice. Shenna was nowhere to be found, but Will’s body was a few feet away, being examined by someone who looked like a doctor.

  Shifters milled around, some giving orders, some following. I had to say it for them, they were organized and obedient to their leader. At the moment it was Niall who barked orders at the shifters to help the police and first responders who were looking after Tracy and waiting to talk to me.

  “Don’t try to talk right now,” Grayson murmured. He carried me to a waiting stretcher and handed me over to the paramedics who had been patiently and cautiously hovering over us. “Don’t talk to them about anything not related to your injuries.”

  “I don’t need you,” I said, clutching the ambulance doctor by the arm. “I’m Fae. I can heal myself.”

  She laughed, and bells filled the air. “Princess, if the magic you used was electricity, you’d have blacked out the entire Bay Area. Even you need medical care sometimes.” She stroked her hand over my forehead and I relaxed, unwillingly to move or speak when police surrounded my stretcher and peppered me with questions about Detective Mills.

  “Is she okay?” I asked repeatedly in response to them. “The man hurt her, is she okay?”

  Tracy had already alerted them to the fact William Steele had attempted to use her as a hostage and tried to murder me. The fact his gym had been the location for a massive magical outburst and then the SFPD's top witch-detective told them he’d attacked her with stolen magic made them go a lot easier on me.

  It's one of the nice things about human cops. Give them a tidy story that clears up the plot holes and a dead suspect who can’t hurt anyone else, and you mostly fall off their radar.

  It also didn’t hurt a magical cop had protected her human counterparts, but still gave them the credit for saving us all. They became the optic for the press conferences the mayor held to explain the damage to Bayside Brawlers.

  I spent three days in the Fae wing of the hospital and returned home to find my apartment almost completely packed. Grayson and Niall had decided my magic—and the rest of me—needed to stay with them, for our mutual protection.

  While I was in the hospital, I missed Grayson’s selection as alpha, and Niall being named as his right hand, but Niall had it recorded and brought it when he visited. Grayson didn’t visit at all, but Tryst came to me, irritated I’d managed to hide so much power from him for so long.

  He didn’t ask me to bargain with him, though. Instead, he came with a message from my father. It seemed my little adventure in surviving magical bootlegging and an overtly attempted murder had finally gotten his attention. My presence was requested in Fairy. Funny, but after so many years of praying and wishing for the chance to be seen and accepted by the High Fae, I somehow now had a million reasons not to go.

  The "invitation" to go to Fairy was a royal summons, and I knew I couldn’t avoid it forever. But I’d barely survived my encounter with a magicless dragonkin, and the high court would only be more powerful. Tryst approved my move to the shifter's den and promised to get me in shape for a visit to a royal court so ancient my very presence as a hybrid might make heads explode.

  He didn’t even ask for anything in return.

  When I finally watched the last of my houseplants get set by a window in Grayson’s apartment, it started to feel real. Grayson had moved out, presumably to stay with one of the eligible females he’d need to choose a mate from. I hadn’t asked,
and I hadn’t admitted to him that for a moment, I’d let myself think I’d be staying with him. He was the alpha of a pack who had just lost both their former alpha a packmate to betrayal. They needed him, I just needed a place to live the witches were afraid of.

  Orson and company helped with the move and I suspected it was Orson’s idea, and I was given the weekend off to get settled in. At first, I was afraid Orson would be afraid of me, but all I saw when he kissed me on the cheek and gave me a bone-breaking hug, was elation. When I got back to the office, I understood why.

  In the window was a life-sized poster of me, advertising the company’s "Fae-fairness" policy. I hate being a literal poster-girl for Fae equality at the criminal level, but I still needed a job, so I kept my complaints to myself.

  The Piedmont gardens quickly became the nicest in the city, my thank-you to the shifter coalition for putting up with a non-shifter in their space, especially one who makes them nervous because she can control them.

  But I hadn’t tried since. Hell, they couldn’t get me back into the cavern if they paid me. The nightmares started right after I got home from the hospital, and no matter how I tried to avoid them. I couldn’t even make myself visit the giant oak tree I’d grown downtown. I’d lost the one person on the planet who had, I thought, been rooting for me to take over the world.

  But Pippi, tending her garden behind the office like nothing had happened, was the one to put it the most succinctly. “People who do not know nature, Morgan, are the unhappiest people of all. If only he’d known his people, the grace and beauty of the dragonkin, perhaps he would have known the warlocks trade only insanity for your soul.”

  Twenty-Five

  It was Grayson who pulled me out of hiding after a few days. I caught him flirting with Penelope at her desk when I returned from making deposits at the bank. The sight of him after almost a week of being apart made my knees wobble.

  He was dressed more casually than I’d ever seen him, in a t-shirt stretched tight over his chest and the bulging muscles of his upper arms.

  His hair fell in his face as he grinned at me, and I clenched my fists against the desire to go to him and brush it away.

  “There she is. The girl of the hour,” he laughed as I fell into my chair. “You can’t avoid me anymore. The council has decided your fate.”

  I bristled automatically, despite the laughter I saw in his eyes. “My fate, huh? What fate do you get to decide for Morgana Silk, Fae princess and bail bondsman?”

  He laughed aloud, head thrown back, “You are the new Vatken of the coalition. We can’t win this fight for equality without you.”

  “Okay, I give. What’s a Vatken?”

  “It means guard, and it’s short for ‘captain of the guard’. We want you to fight with us, not in the streets, I hope, but for witches like Kiersten and her wolf.”

  “You’ll protect her baby?”

  “Are you kidding? Hybrids like you and her unborn daughter are what Gideon was fighting for. I know you’re still looking for the connection between the warlock and the coven. This will give you access to our resources. Orson gave his okay for me to poach you, as long as we keep sending him all our pack business.”

  “The whole pack is okay with this?”

  He slid off Pen’s desk and leaned over mine. “Honey, the entire nationwide coalition is okay with this.” He grabbed my hands, massaging them out of their tightly clenched fists. “We want you, Morgan. Nothing more. We wanted you before we knew how powerful you are, because you’re unique. Beautiful and unique.” His voice had gotten softer as he spoke, his eyes hungry and possessive. Heat climbed my neck and into my cheeks.

  “I’ll—I’ll need a few provisions,” I managed to gasp as he devoured me with his eyes like we were alone.

  “Anything.”

  “I want a brownie for the apartment, and a section to be opened to Fae housing.” I beamed at my boldness, the blush fading from my cheeks.

  He sighed. “Really, that’s it?”

  I stood and patted his cheek. I leaned to kiss him on the mouth, a chaste brush of skin that still lit me on fire. “Oh, Gray, I’m sure I’ll have more later.”

  He grabbed my purse and saluted Pen. “Thanks for surrendering her to us, Penelope.”

  Before I knew it, I was speeding up the hill with him again, nerves balled up like a stone in my stomach. I had so many questions about what I was agreeing to. I didn’t know where to start or how to ask without sounding like an idiot.

  It was my first walk down to the cavern since the attack, and my feet dragged every step of the way. When we reached the pool, I paused, and Grayson took my arm. “When I saw him holding you under,” he murmured, “I’ve never been so scared and enraged in my entire life.”

  I glanced up at him.

  “I thought you were dead Morgan. You saved me, saved my pack, and I’d let you die.”

  “I…” What was I supposed to say to that?

  His voice was rough with emotion. “We let you down.” He met my eyes with a fierce gaze that made my heart pound almost out of my chest. “Now you’ll be pack, and no one will ever be able to attack you without the pack coming to your aid.”

  He pulled me away from the edge of the pool and down into the corridors leading to the ring. Shifters of all kinds met us in the stone halls, bowing as we passed. “Is it strange to be the alpha?” I asked after the third wolf greeted us the same way.

  “The bowing? Oh, that’s for you. Nobody bows for me.” He chuckled at the trembling running through my body to the hand he held. “Better get used to it, Princess. We love royalty around here.”

  “Oh, fuck off,” I muttered. “There will be no bowing or kneeling before me.”

  He laughed at me again and leaned down to kiss my temple. “And here I thought you wanted me on my knees. How disappointing.”

  I tripped, simultaneously grateful he held me up, and mortified he’d seen how he affected me, but he kept his laughter quiet and only his shaking shoulders gave him away. I almost fell again when I saw Tracy waiting for me at the entrance to the ring.

  “Morgan, oh gods I’m so glad to see you looking so good.” She rushed at me and hugged me hard, making my eyes tear up for a moment. “Isn’t this the best?”

  Out of uniform, Tracy looked much younger and even prettier, her dark curls farming her face like a halo, brown skin gleaming under the glow of the thousand lights still nestled in the stone ceiling.

  “We’re good, yeah?” I asked her, and she beamed, her smile so wide I thought her face might split.

  “Oh yeah. We’re good. The warlock was suspected to be the coven's own assassin. He might have been the one who killed my own mom.”

  “I’m not.” She led me to the dais above the ring and the shifters cheered so loudly I almost didn’t hear her next words. “You are the one, Morgana Silk. The one to end tyranny and bring true peace. The one we’ve all been waiting for.”

  I didn’t believe she was right. One person couldn't make much of a difference. But looking over the crowd of shifters who would sleep soundly knowing the threat was gone, and at Grayson, who’s bed I slept in, and if I had my way, would share with him soon, it was almost enough.

  Grayson caught my attention, and I felt his beast rub against me, brushing me with his power, his desire. I met his eyes and knew together, we would burn like the sun. I glanced up at him and reveled in the dark predatory look in his eyes.

  For the first time in my life, I had a home. Not just a place to live, but people to share it with who fought to have me. It was foreign and beautiful, and almost hid the edge of fear I felt it would be over too soon. But I’d lived minute to minute at times. If there was one thing I knew it was how to enjoy what I had while I had it, and I was planning to have the time of my life.

  STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT PART OF MORGAN’S STORY, COMING IN OCTOBER, 2018!

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ome, death is not an end but the beginning.

  THE DRAUGUR

  Long before Vlad the Impaler, there was Vasile Draugur.

  Descendant of a warlord emperor, Vasile was a force never before witnessed in history. But for all his strength and power, his people fell into dissolution as famine, disease, and war spread through their land. Desperate and desirous to prove himself, Vasile sought the help of the Servants of Hekate, the right hand to the queen of the underworld.

  He begged for help, grace, and mercy, but his cries fell on deaf ears. His fate was sealed the moment he walked into the temple asking for Hekate's help.

  Unhappy with their prophecy and angered by the priestess’s words, Vasile slaughtered one of Heckate’s priestesses, a young innocent who was actually Princess Avilda, daughter of the great King Ivar Baetal.

  He attempted to save the girl and failed.

  Hekate cursed him with the words, “For the blood you stole this night, you shall live a walking death." Horrified by their leader’s actions, Vasile’s people rebelled, sealing him in a cave, alone, unable to die, and hungry.

  Seeking revenge for the loss of his daughter, Ivar Baetal ravaged the known world, offering his life and his humanity to a witch in order to achieve his goals. Upon capture by a great foe, Ivar ripped out the leader’s throat, promising to destroy every one of them. The tale of an undead leader from hell spread like wildfire among those left in the wreckage.

  Gathering his forces, Ivar soon believed the myths told about him, drinking blood every night to continue to lead his army to victory and avenge his daughter. Madness took his mind and his own officers turned on him, refusing to drink blood as he did. Though they managed to plunge a knife into his heart, Ivar rose again the next night, declaring himself a god and turning those remaining loyal to him into creatures of his own making—the Baetal. Ivar swore to find the man who took his daughter and destroy any last trace of him and his line.