“That doesn’t make sense. Aidric sent the retrievers after me. Why would he undermine a mission he ordered?” Because he didn’t order it, I thought. Naalish did. Oren said she took control of the Guild after I left. All those years I feared Aidric. And it was never him. “I’m not one of his, if that’s what you’re thinking. Aidric didn’t father me.”
“No, he didn’t. Your daddy was some other lesser, inferior drake. Probably the runt of the tribe,” she said, scrunching her forehead in mocked sympathy, “which would explain the rotting scent of failure that clings to your scales. But what I do know is, from that night on, from the moment Ronan followed you off Drimera…” Brynne lifted her small chin. Her eyelids fluttered as she watched me, eager for a reaction. “You were nothing but an assignment.”
Processing her words without a single show of emotion, I gave her a hard smile. “At least I was that. You were just…nothing.”
Brynne was on me in a breath. Gripping my head, she shoved it back into the tree, holding me still while her scaled fist struck my face.
Creed’s right, I thought, as my jaw cracked. She’s fucking fast.
My hands were out of commission. I brought my legs up, to catch hers in between, but the venom was hindering my coordination. I couldn’t get enough height. Giving up, I settled for ramming a knee into her crotch. Brynne screamed and punched me harder. My human skin split. Fragments of bark tumbled onto my shoulders as my head hit the trunk again and again.
Over the sound of her strikes I heard Ronan yelling. I heard a distant flutter that beat with familiarity and strength. Steadily, it grew to drown out the pain.
As Brynne shouted at me, I looked past her scaled head, to the massive shadow overtaking the sun. At first glimpse, I thought my muddled mind was screwing with me again. But there was no mistaking the shape, or the sound.
Hearing it, too, Brynne’s rant came to an abrupt end. Letting go of my head, she whipped her own around. I looked up at the sky, and smiled through the blood.
Powerful limbs dangling, tail stretched out behind; the distinctive form on approach held such mass it brought darkness to the day. Silhouetted by a burst of brilliance, its scaled edges glowed like yellow fire. Never in my life had I seen anything to match the dexterous grace of a dragon in flight. Even if those same wings brought me death, I was glad to have one last chance to see Naalish own the sky.
Thirty-Two
The dead ground shook and broke apart with her landing. Debris came together in the air in a pale bulbous cloud whose center darkened, then slowly parted, as the queen walked through. A subtle rumble vibrated the ground with her methodical steps. Black spiral-horned head held high, plum-colored eyes dark and dangerous, her leathery wings folded in against her flanks. Air blew through her snout and dissipated the remaining streams of haze clinging to her muscular limbs; coated in a stunning wrapping of silvery-lavender scales.
When the complete form of the dragon female was visible, the entire lyrriken squad dropped to their knees in silent deference. Brynne was the last to show respect, as I had no doubt Naalish had noticed.
All manner of defiant and fearful sounds were erupting from my fellow prisoners, but Ronan and I knew the price of not holding our tongues. We exchanged a glance. I knew what he would do, given the chance. I was less sure of my own course.
Would I choose differently this time?
Would I submit and take her condemnation with my head held high?
I imagined Evans would see ‘death by dragon’ as a damn sweet way to go. But even thinking it in jest, imagining his face at the sight of Naalish towering over him, I knew he was wrong. I also knew I wouldn’t go quietly. There was something in me that wouldn’t allow it now any more than it did then.
Naalish came to a stop alongside the lyrriken squad. She gave them no leave to rise. She seemed not even to notice their presence. Instead, her emotionless purple-hued gaze wandered over Brynne’s prisoners in a fleeting studious sweep. It lingered on none of us with any kind of interest or familiarity. Still, I knew she recognized us. She recognized me. And the nearly imperceptible twitch of her tail confirmed it.
The Queen’s attention turned to Brynne. Her cold eyes tightened. Her immense head tilted slightly. With clear purpose, Naalish swung her neck in the direction of the squad. Her jaw opened, and with a passing glimpse of blade-like teeth and forked tongue, a spray of fire exploded from the depth of the Queen’s throat. Fleeing her mouth, the blaze swooped out like a roll of thunder. It burst over the bodies of the twelve lyrriken, cutting across their scaled forms with a fierce heat that ate instantly through organ, gristle, and bone.
The flame burned out as quickly as it came. Nothing remained of the twelve lyrriken but piles of smoking ash, bits of blackened bone, and the warped steel of melted weapons. Nothing moved but Brynne’s chest as it heaved in brisk, quiet breaths. Even she wouldn’t dare speak her resentment aloud. Not after the Queen had annihilated her entire squad.
Naalish backed up from the remains. An odd hum filled the air. High-pitched and piercing, the din resonated with a significant sense of pressure. It pushed against my skin. My eyes stung, yet I couldn’t close them, or I would miss the impossible happening in front of me.
Naalish was shifting.
Her body shrinking, muscles and bulk dwindled as her limbs rapidly contracted. Her elongated snout collapsed. Eye sockets diminished in size. Jaw compressed as her head shortened and changed shape. Back straightening, tail and wings diminishing, silvery-lavender hair, the color of her scales, sprouted from her head and flowed over strong shoulders. As the elder queen’s body reduced itself to that of a pewter gray-plated female lyrriken, she rose onto two legs at nearly seven feet tall, and I thought once more: it’s the venom. It has to be.
This can’t be real. Female elders can’t shift.
But she wasn’t done.
Scales yielded to ivory flesh. Oval bestial eyes to large violet pools. Limbs shortened further as her waist tightened and her hair fell in lush strands over luxurious naked curves. Busty, to say the least, round hips, plump, smooth thighs and an ass that would put all the girls at Juicy Bits to shame; Naalish was gorgeous—and human.
I looked at Ronan in shock. If my hands weren’t tied, I would have reached over and closed his mouth. Thankfully, a second later, common sense set in, and he lowered his eyes.
Naalish stepped with the regal gait of her station as she moved to stand before Brynne. With a soft frightening authority, the Queen spoke. “Rise.”
Brynne stood. Her body swayed slightly. There was a tightening of her eyes, and I knew Naalish was in her mind. The Queen regarded her subject thoroughly, inside and out, showing not the slightest change in her own aloof expression. As her gaze landed on Brynne’s neck, her hand darted out to clutch the stolen pendant. Ripping the chain from Brynne’s throat, Naalish threw the necklace to the ground.
Blinking, she pulled out of Brynne’s head. “You have disappointed me, youngling. When Reech last reported in, he voiced concern over your actions. His mind told me of your lapse in judgment and control. Now, yours confirms it. The trouble you have caused off-world has brought many eyes to focus on things they should not.”
I smiled inwardly as a slight quiver stilted Brynne’s voice. “Forgiveness, My Queen. But I have confidence we will cover it, as we always have.”
“We have not spent decades building a network to carry out our deceptions, just so you may misappropriate their services. Your vengeance has superseded my wishes, lyrriken. It has distorted your sight. Your seditious behavior left me no choice but to execute your squad. You, of all my subjects, Brynne, must understand why I could not allow such intolerable actions to negatively influence others.”
“I do.”
“Reech requested you be removed as his second. But his work has not been discreet of late, either, and too much has gone into your creation to let you wither in the ranks. I must also consider the gifts you have brought me today.” Briefly her eyes flitted
in my direction. “They please me.”
Brynne dipped her head. “Your pleasure is mine.”
“Still, your errors have been many. A lesson must be learned.” Naalish seized Brynne’s throat in one hand and commanded, “Shift.”
Brynne dropped her scales and became human before her Queen.
Steadily, Naalish tightened her grip. Tilting her head, she watched as Brynne struggled to breathe. “I will give you something I give few others: a chance. But if you disappoint again, I will grant Reech the leave to deal with you as he sees fit…with no repercussions. I will not come to your aid. I will not speak for you. Fail him, and you fail me. Do you understand my words, little one? Or shall I scream them in your head?”
Resisting the urge to fight and claw as the Queen’s hand clenched tighter, Brynne struggled to reply. Naalish took her sounds for agreement and released her. Doubling over, coughing and wheezing, Brynne had yet to draw a decent breath before Naalish backhanded her. Falling, Brynne skidded over the hard soil, landing between where Ronan and I were tied.
Naalish watched Brynne pick her face up from the dirt. “I have one more task for you this day. You must bring Drimera’s prodigal children to the Citadel. For your years of service and devotion, I will allow you one night with Ronan Locke. One, Brynne. Mate with him, punish him, play with him how you must, just flush this male from your mind once and for all. Tomorrow, his original punishment will be carried out. He will be castrated and retrained and you will never think of him again. For if you do, if I see any trace of him in your mind after today, you will not enjoy the consequences.
A hand to her bleeding mouth, Brynne nodded in silence.
Shapely hips swaying, Naalish stepped over Brynne. I held my breath as the Queen rounded the tree behind me and came up on my other side. “And you, Dahlia Nite, my once bright star. To this day, it saddens me how quickly you burned out.”
I met her eyes, and the paralyzing fear I’d once felt, didn’t come. Naalish could kill me in a heartbeat. But because of the venom, she couldn’t read my thoughts. It was a kind of liberation that allowed me to be brash and openly curious as I watched her, wondering what she might say and do. Mostly, I was eager to know how the hell she’d shifted out of her elder form. I held my questions, though, and greeted her politely.
Brief but reverent, I dipped my head. “Queen Naalish.”
She held my bold stare with her beautiful human eyes. “I have heard much of your exploits over the years, Dahlia. They tell me you have voluntarily traded our ways for theirs, that you have become comfortable in your human skin. Yet, despite your betrayal, you have worked to uphold our ways and keep the truth concealed. Your loyalty in this surprises me.”
“I didn’t do it for you. Discovering what’s really out here, that everything they held true is wrong, would change their way of life, their beliefs, even their history. And their future…well I’m guessing they wouldn’t have one. And neither would we.”
“So you have chosen humanity over your own species?”
“I wouldn’t have a species without humanity. And you won’t have a world to protect if they find out we’ve lied and manipulated them since the beginning of time.”
Her brows arched. “You realize your devotion to this one matter earns you no leniency?”
“I didn’t expect it to. Just like I never expected to see you…like this.” I swept my eyes over her pale naked form. “Since when do females shift? The Guild teaches—”
“What I allow it to teach.” Naalish smiled tightly. “Only the strongest minds may take the throne, child. If I could not shift at will, I would be an inferior Queen, indeed.” The shock was visible in my eyes and she laughed, soft and melodic. “Females merely do not feel the need, nor have a reason to flaunt our shifting ability as the males do. Nor do they have a right. For some time, it has been only the reigning Queen who may exercise the privilege to shift. Seeing as your mind cannot presently accommodate my voice, I thought this form was best to ensure you understood my ruling.”
“I’m honored. But I’m pretty sure I got it the last time.”
“Oh, there will be no execution. I have rescinded that order and issued another. One I believe is more fitting for your crimes.”
“And what exactly were my crimes? Not wanting to die, developing abilities you didn’t understand? Is that it? Is that why you condemned me? You felt threatened because one of your children showed a little too much promise?”
The first display of emotion flared in her eyes, like the brief glint of sun off the water. Malice hardened her words. “In the morning, you will be taken to the factory. There you will serve to increase the production of our next harvest. We are capable of making our own now, but I prefer a pure product when possible.”
My pulse quickening, I asked the question. “Pure what?”
“Venom, of course,” she replied. “Your body will serve as sustenance, feeding the nageun until it can no longer. I believe you’re familiar with the process?”
I stared up at her, wanting to protest and plead. I wanted to argue, to scream. But her decree had squeezed the anger out of me. It had done exactly as Naalish wanted. It gripped my heart and clogged my throat, stealing my breath until I couldn’t voice a single word. Having read my mind after I was rescued from the nageun, she saw and felt what those creatures did to me in their nest. She knew the one thing that would terrify me into submission and make me regret ever leaving her in the first place.
If only I had killed that human child without pause. If I hadn’t run like a coward. If I had stayed and died like I was supposed to…
Out of nowhere, my fears scattered. A calm resolve took their place. I couldn’t pinpoint its source, but it was the same sentiment and strength that had filled me the night I was condemned—a presence of mind that refused submission.
My terror of the nageun was still real, but I wasn’t the Queen’s to command or maneuver. I wasn’t her anything. I’d cut that string a long time ago.
Brynne’s objection broke through my thoughts. “I brought the traitor home to be put to death, My Queen. I had hoped to strike the blow myself. I—”
Naalish cut her off with a fiery glance. “Never presume to know my mind. The embarrassment Dahlia brought my throne, the time and resources spent on rehabilitating her squad—the divide she caused with my King—death is too quick an end.” With a swish of her long hair, Naalish turned her back.
As she walked away, the words burst out of me. “Were you jealous of Ella Chandler, too? Is that why you had her killed?”
Naalish froze. She glanced back over her bare shoulder. “Do you think I have time to punish every female who captures my King’s attention? Do you think I care to? A dragon may mate as they please, but devotion…his belongs to me. Divided loyalties or underlying motives will not be tolerated from anyone.” Her stern gaze flicked to Brynne. “Kill the trespassers.”
Pivoting back around, with each step, more scales spread over Naalish’s shapely thighs, down the backs of her legs, across the swing of her round ass and up under the cover of her hair. The Queen reclaimed her strong lyrriken form in mid-stride, but she held it only a moment. The odd sound from before returned, and her dragon-hybrid form began to stretch and grow.
I wasn’t as mesmerized this time. Watching Naalish regain her elder form and take flight only left me cold and not at all impressed.
Brynne didn’t hesitate to carry out her orders, starting with the female aswang. As she moved down the line, I turned my head toward Ronan. I’d assumed he’d held his tongue in the Queen’s presence, because to fight would have been counter-productive to his survival. Except it wasn’t a quiet determination I saw in his eyes. There was no anger, no trace of a plan simmering as he waited for the right moment to strike. What I found was the glassy, vacant stare of defeat.
I wasn’t having it.
“Grow a pair,” I said brusquely, “before you lose the ones you’ve got. This isn’t over.”
Thirty-
Three
Brynne beat Ronan for a long time before he passed out. Her scaled fists had pummeled his human face, over and over, until blood drenched his shirt and puddled on the dead ground around him. Then she unhooked his limp body from the tree and flashed me a smirk that was full of excitement. She was taking him in first, and she wanted me to worry about that. She wanted me to fret over what pain he might suffer while we were apart. But that wasn’t the real reason she was splitting us up.
After butchering the remaining ‘trespassers’, she left their bodies gutted and sliced with entrails strewn over the ailing ground. It was easier that way, for a wandering nageun to pick up the scent. If one fed on me while she was gone, and I died before Naalish could send me away, Brynne would be far from disappointed.
Holding that bigger and very genuine worry in the back of my mind, I went to work on weakening the tree trunk the minute she was gone. With the nageun-acid trip I was slowly coming down from, even determining a direction to run if I broke free, was a challenge. My long term thought processes all seemed to wither before they could form. My messed up vision had the horizon rolling in fractured rainbows, making it impossible to identify a landmark. It made sense that the City of Spires was nearby. Yet, at the same time, I’d never known drought to take any part of Drimera, let alone near my old doorstep. Holding to that led me to the assumption that I’d have hours to work myself free.
I was wrong.
In no time, Brynne was gliding down in front of me. She said nothing. I knew she wanted me to ask about Ronan. She wanted me to beg. When I didn’t, her breath picked up in aggravation. It was obvious she was even less together now than she had been at the park. Whatever upper hand Brynne thought she had, Naalish had it now.
She was trying to regain it, though, to bolster herself by scaring me. It was why she was walking in silent circles around me, thinking to build suspense and reinforce my fear. I used the time to eye her weapons. If I was going to have any chance of escape, I couldn’t afford another hit of venom, but nothing she wore looked to be ‘treated’ as Ronan had mentioned. Her metal batons were similar to a pair in my closet. The claw-handled blade slipped through her belt looked clean.
Nite Fire: Flash Point Page 34
