by Debra Kristi
The White Dragon lowered her head and narrowed her gaze. “Do not keep me waiting, little creature. Out with it.”
Sebastian cared for this dragon even less. She may be smaller, less intimidating in size and appearance, but there was a cunning about her that bordered on terrifying. Sebastian glanced at his watch. The portal would be closing soon. He had to hurry. “No chance of seeing Bolsvck?”
She straightened her neck, raising her head high. “None.”
Sebastian let out a sigh. “You must make sure he gets this message. Dragons are being slaughtered upland, and his daughter Kyra may be in danger.”
“His daughter is dead to us.”
Sebastian blinked, his body jolting in response to her reaction. He refused to believe Bolsvck felt that way. “I fear the dragons being killed aren’t random killings, but part of a bigger plan. I thought he should be aware.”
The White Dragon opened one eye wider. White light shimmered around her and a woman suddenly stood before Sebastian. Her skin was pale, hairless, and covered in white scrolled markings. “And human forms of the dragons are being found?”
Sebastian nodded. “How did you know?”
She acted as if Sebastian hadn’t spoken. “You were brave to come here and bring Bolsvck the news. I thank you on his behalf.” She bowed her head, and Sebastian returned the gesture. Then she pointed him toward the exit. To appease her, Sebastian pretended to leave.
The compass spun, showing him the way. The watch in his palm told him he had twenty-five minutes until the portal closed. Was it enough time? Probably not, but he had to try.
No dragons had followed him out. He slipped the folded piece of paper from Talia out of his pocket and read the instructions. Get the dagger, she’d said. No doubt an impossible task. He should have asked for a portal to the dagger’s front door. Sebastian studied the diagram, and when he felt confident he knew it by heart, he slipped the paper back in his pocket and crept into the cave again.
There had to be a better approach. This time Sebastian would find it, use it. Reapers must have cool superpowers he wasn’t aware of. Maybe he could go invisible. He thought on that. Didn’t do any good if he didn’t know how to make it work. All he knew how to do was reap, and he sure as Hell wasn’t going to reap any dragons. Not if he wanted Kyra’s father on his side. Question was, what was he doing associating with so many terrible and unstable monsters?
Keeping to the shadows, he crept as quick as he could, following the map now inked in his memory. He wasn’t a hundred percent certain what the dagger was for, but if he understood the directions clearly, it would help retrieve Kyra’s dragon, and that’s all that mattered right now. He was getting the damn thing, at any cost.
Sebastian slipped around the corner and came face to face with the White Dragon. Orange eyes flickered, nostrils flared. Sebastian ventured a guess she wasn’t happy with his change in direction.
“Didn’t I show you the way out?” Her claws extended and began to tap.
Decision time. What was his defense move if he was avoiding the reap? “Well, yes,” he said, vying for time. “Then I realized I forgot something.” He reached down in his soul and pulled. Dug into hers, sifting, searching.
“And what was that?” She stepped forward, baring her teeth.
“This,” Sebastian said with a snap of his fingers.
The White Dragon threw her head to the ceiling and roared. Sebastian hadn’t known what to expect, never having dealt with a dragon in this way before. Wasn’t even sure if dragons had nightmares, any fears, he could pluck. But there it was, prancing around at the front of her gray matter, waiting for Sebastian to swoop in and play. And play he did. He kicked opened doors, knocked down walls, and threw off unwieldy camouflage meant to hide and contain the dragon’s deepest secrets. Her inadmissible horrors.
A massive White Dragon with a mean scar across his brow leaped through the rubble of a toppled memory wall. It was only a recollection, and he didn’t see Sebastian, didn’t engage. He roared at the tiny dragonling cowering in the far corner of the host dragon’s mind. Anger rippled his hide, whipped his tail, and spewed smoke from his nostrils. The dragonling wailed, and then the image evaporated, only to be replaced with another.
This one slammed into Sebastian, knocking him to his trance-state butt and shaking his Mara nightmare hold. The state of retrospection shuddered, leaving Sebastian struggling to maintain control. The source of the interference—a ginormous, iridescent red dragon. He spread his wings and flapped. His voice exploded in a blast of defending command. Legends crumbled and fell before him. Like a changeling, the beast’s face fluctuated, beating back and forth like the thrum of his mighty tail, between the dragon and the man Sebastian recognized as Marcus. Only, Sebastian felt not a single drop of mercy in the man’s soul. He hadn’t detected such ugliness in Marcus’s person. Sebastian hated him, plain and true.
Hellhounds and chaos monsters flanked Marcus’s side, rushed, battered, and destroyed everything in their path. An army of zilants flew above, his to command. The winged, snake-like creatures hissed and wiggled, creating the impression of a slithering sky. Sebastian wondered how Marcus had managed to align all the lower demons. Or why he would want to.
Then Marcus yelled, a mighty bellow, and the zilants dove into the crowd of cowering dragons already under siege by hellhounds and chaos demons. Screams fractured the memory, knocked Sebastian clear. He’d only recently become aware of Marcus’s dragon status. Now he’d learned of all the evil Marcus could control at the tip of his claw. Sebastian jerked, shook his head—and the thoughts—clear.
The White Dragon’s nightmares had been enlightening, and Sebastian was now concerned beyond any Mara’s nightmare illusion for Kyra. If Marcus had an army behind him this time, dragons could soon become Reaper business. Some really nasty dragons already feared Marcus. What did that mean for Kyra?
The dragon in front of him clawed at the ground, swung her body from side to side, and screeched at such a massive volume the sound bounced off the tunnel walls and set Sebastian’s ears to ringing. He ran from the site as quick as he could. Ran before more dragons came to her aid and caught him in the process.
The thunder of their approach rattled the tunnels, the noise deafening as more dragons joined in the howling, rocks and sediment falling from walls all around him. Talia’s map led him to a room not far from his run-in with the White Dragon. It wasn’t much of a space. Round, no windows, only one entrance. What made it special, worth the trouble to visit, was the treasure it stored. Pure gold lined the walls in piles. Jewels, statues, goblets, and so much more. A dragon’s hoard stored in the cavern, and on a pillar set high in the center was a shiny dagger, the handle simple, the blade set long with a curve. But he knew it was the one he needed, so he set toward it in a run.
Full speed in his stride, he hit the column and jumped. As soon as his hand wrapped around the dagger’s hilt, he felt it. Incredible power. He knew why the dragons kept the weapon hidden away. It was dangerous to them, strong beasts as they were. He pulled the blade up against his chest and dove down against the column’s base, back pressed to its cold surface.
“It’s gone!” a voice cried out.
Sebastian crouched down and peeked around the side of the column. Thankfully he’d landed on the back side, not visible from the entrance. A small, youthful Fire Dragon stood in the doorway. He marched in, galloped around and sniffed the air, then marched out again. “Nothing. I got nothing. Must be gone.”
Curious. Sebastian wondered why the young dragonet couldn’t smell him. Not that there was time to worry about it. Dragons yelled and thumped in the tunnel outside. Sebastian glanced at his watch. Eleven minutes. He wasn’t going to make it. He looked down at the dagger and thought of Kyra. Thought of Marcus and what he would do to Kyra. Sebastian zipped around the column, rushed for the tunnel and the portal waiting outside.
“Where did you come fro—?” The young Fire Dragon never got to finish his question. S
ebastian had him flailing on the ground within seconds, squirming in fear of being pulverized by a gnarly Black Dragon.
Sebastian wiped the sweat from his brow. At the moment, he was thankful for his Mara talents, even if he didn’t condone the use of them. He looked away from the young dragon pitching to the fever of his own nightmare.
Dragons now came at him so quickly it was like they were seeping out of the walls. He couldn’t grab their fears and fling them back fast enough. Nor could he run fast enough. He dodged left, and then right, slid under the belly of one and realized that wasn’t going to work. His plan was flawed.
He pulled out the dagger, ran with it in his grasp.
Smaller dragons backed away, slipped behind and followed from the rear. But the larger beasties were not so easily intimidated.
Darkness swam, swirled in Sebastian’s belly. It ripped up his esophagus and exploded through the tunnels as he moved for the exit. Dragons fell away.
No!
Sebastian clamped his mouth shut. He hadn’t meant to throw extinction at their souls. Never meant to cause them any pain, much less something worse. He glanced behind him. Dragons stammered, some collapsed, but none were dead. Thank the Reaper, none were dead. Sebastian put the wind at his back and ran faster. Ran with all that he was and all that he had. Ran because Kyra’s life depended upon it.
They were roaring, screaming, howling behind him. He knew they came, but he dared not look back. Over the wall he went. Across the dust trail and slate rocks until he was leaping with as much spring as he could muster.
Sebastian swung through the portal not a minute too soon. It collapsed in on itself moments after he successfully pulled through to the other side.
“I didn’t think you were going to make it,” Madoc said. “Where to next?”
Knuckles scratched and bruised, Sebastian raised his hand to knock on the door. He should have worn fingerless gloves, hidden the damage so as not to alarm Kyra. Too late now. He knocked three times. The door swung open almost immediately. Kyra stood before him, binder in her arms. The binder toppled to the ground.
“Oh my God!” She grabbed him and pulled him into the apartment, closing the door behind them. “I thought you stood me up.” Her hands wandered his face, traced a long line above his brow. It stung, and he flinched. How bad did he look? He hadn’t thought to look in a mirror. She pushed him deeper into the apartment and Sebastian hesitated, felt Marcus’s barrier keeping him out, then Talia’s charm working brilliantly. Sebastian stepped beyond the boundary with only the slightest of resistance. Kyra led him to the sofa and pushed him down, then ran back to the bedroom.
“When she said…” Sebastian mumbled, and looked from the dinette table to the counter and every other flat surface in the room, never finishing his thought. Sunflower arrangements adorned every logical space. He felt a smile tugging at his lip, then worry dropped it into a frown. She’d said she kept the flowers because of their suggestion of warmth. Why was she so cold? That’s what he needed to figure out.
He studied the mess of work papers spread out on the coffee table. Noticed the highball glass half-full sitting in a ring of condensation among the disorder. She was working from home—and drinking. He leaned forward, took a whiff. Wowza! Strong stuff. His body jerked up and away. Instinctively, his hand reached for the small vial of Spiritual Peace he was carrying with him. His skin itched. He wanted to take a sip now. He moved his hand away from the tiny bottle.
With a sigh, he relaxed back into the cushions of the sofa. Foot tapping, fingers drumming against his thigh, he was anxious to be moving. Dammit if he wasn’t already messing things up in her presence. He should have grabbed her and left. She’d caught him off guard with her greeting, laying her hands on him the way she did. He liked it. Far more than he could put into words.
“Hell,” he mumbled, and dropped his head into his hands.
“What’s that?”
Kyra was back. She threw herself down next to him on the sofa, flipping to face him. Their legs pressed firmly against one another. Marcus would erupt like a volcano if he were to walk in. In her hand she held a damp washcloth, and she began to dab at his forehead.
“Is it bad?” he asked.
“You haven’t seen it?”
Sebastian shook his head.
“You should clean up okay. What happened?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” He watched her mouth while she applied ointment to his temple, followed by a bandage. She was stunning, so intoxicating; he didn’t want to drag his gaze away. Yet it wasn’t long before he found himself searching her neckline, looking for the dragon tooth Talia kept telling him to locate. Kyra used to wear the trinket on a string around her neck. Where was it now?
When she’d finished playing nurse, she leaned in and kissed her completed work. Sebastian closed his eyes and savored the moment.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kyra said. “Did I go too far?”
Sebastian opened his eyes and looked at her. His brows felt heavy, weighted with concern for her comment. They pressed into his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I thought we’d done that before. It felt right. Was I wrong?”
Sebastian continued to stare at her, his confusion still clouded.
“The kiss. Haven’t we kissed before?”
His chest expanded, filling with air and understanding. Was she acting on feelings without actual knowledge? Or was she recalling the kiss she’d planted on him that night in his tarot card trailer? Either way, it gave him hope. Hope that she returned his feelings.
A small smile cracked his face. “We haven’t kissed before. It doesn’t mean I am opposed to it.” He’d lied. But he wasn’t going to count their one and only kiss to date. Not under these circumstances. And he wasn’t going to take advantage. He would win her soul over in such a way that she’d love him for all eternity. Memory return or not. That was the hope, at least.
Kyra bit the inside of her lip and studied him. Pain, want, desire: it all moved through him as he looked back at her. Never had they been so close, and yet felt so far. One mistake, and all possibilities for the future could shatter.
He sat back against the sofa. They should go—he knew they should go—but he didn’t want to end whatever was happening between them. The edge of his thumb caressed the soft skin of her cheek. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you in any way?” His gaze wandered to her glass of liquid fire on the table.
Following his look, she shook her head and turned closer to him. They aligned, Kyra shifting until they were perfectly positioned, parallel to each other. Staring at her lips, he feared making a move and losing her forever. Then again, he feared not making a move and losing her forever.
She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Soft, like silk gliding over smooth, bare skin. She was spring in the winter. Her lips curved to his, then melted around them. The sweet, delicious taste of nectarines. It was unexpected and never more welcome.
Kyra slid back and gazed at Sebastian. “You’re saying we’ve never done that before?”
His hands slipped from her face and glided down her arm, stopping above her elbow. “Not like that.”
“Felt like a perfect fit.”
Sebastian’s gaze lowered. The kiss did feel perfect, yet he didn’t feel right about it. As long as she didn’t remember who she was, he would never feel right. His gut tied into a knot. She would be lost to him when she finally remembered. Remembered he took advantage. That dragon anger of hers would take over and she would hate him.
As gently as he knew how, he moved her to the side. “I’m sorry, Kyra. I never should have kissed you. Not while you’re missing your memories.”
“You didn’t kiss me. I kissed you.”
“But I shouldn’t have allowed it. You may hate me later.” Sebastian dragged his fingers through his hair, let his gaze wander toward the front door. “What of Marcus?”
Kyra slapped her hands in her lap. “Something’s not right with Marcus.”
&nbs
p; Yes! Thank the dragon gods. She finally sees it.
A loud snore burst from the other room, the bedroom. Sebastian stared at Kyra, his eyes wide with questions.
Her lips tightened, held back a laugh. “Chet.” She giggled. “We’re supposed to be working. He can’t handle his liquor.” She pointed to an almost-empty glass on the bar separating the room from the kitchen. “I get so tired of being watched all the time.” She rolled her eyes.
Sebastian was proud of her, but didn’t want to hang around a second longer, tempting fate. As much as he loved sitting here with Kyra and had wanted the kiss to last for endless hours, there was someplace they needed to be. And Chet was a serious mood killer.
He clasped his hand around hers. “Listen. I’m going to ask something of you, and it may sound strange. Crazy, even. Will you trust me?”
Kyra’s eyes widened, looked excited. “What do I have to do?”
Essence of Anodynse, incense extracted from the spinal fluid of dragons, wrapped around Marcus. It created a thick magical cloud, crisscrossing his body. Marcus knelt before the flames built upon sacred stones from the temple of Rajũn, the first dragon and great water deity.
With slow, deliberate movements, Marcus directed the vapors toward himself. He inhaled and sniffed them. Absorbed them through his naked skin. He came before the bearer of dragons a clean slate. Sweat glistened over the curves of his physique, droplets falling from his body in trickles. Leila moved around the perimeter, fanning the outlying flames, and temperatures rose.
Tossing and thrashing in their jars of effervescing energy, the dragons of sacrifice sat arranged on the floor of the Great Hall in a diamond around Marcus. Kyra’s dragon represented water and fire. She had been placed center, directly before him. To the left, in a mesh of mossy glimmer, was a forest giant—a Green Dragon. To the right, trapped in a brilliant display of illumination, the shrewd ice beast. Behind him, a slightly too docile mountain dweller, and at front point, ears frilled, horn scraping at the glass, a vain Blue Dragon hissed and chomped.
