by Rachel Aaron
It wasn’t until ten seconds into the long pause that followed that Julius realized what he’d done. He’d lost his temper and yelled at his brother. His older brother, who was doing him a huge favor by letting Julius work a job to convince their Mother he deserved not to be eaten.
Before he could apologize for the outburst, though, Ian said, “Why, Julius Heartstriker, you almost sounded like a creature with a spine just then.”
Julius blinked. “Um, thank you?”
“Unfortunately, I’ve already given you everything I’m willing to,” Ian went on, talking right over him. “I’m not running a charity here. I hired you to fetch Katya, practically handed her to you on a platter, and if your failures have squandered that opportunity, I don’t see how that’s my responsibility.”
Julius closed his eyes with a stifled hiss. Don’t get mad, he reminded himself. Ian was the one who’d be reporting his progress to Mother, and Julius desperately needed him to give her a good one since Chelsie had undoubtedly already told Bethesda about his screw-up with Bixby’s goons. He was a little surprised he hadn’t gotten a call about that yet, actually. Surprised and relieved, because talking to his mother always put him in an abysmal mood, and if there was ever a time he needed to stay positive, it was now.
“I don’t think I’m being unreasonable,” he said when he could trust his voice again. “You’re in business, Ian. You know you can’t get something for nothing. I’m not even asking you to pay me extra, just give me some working capital so I can—”
“No,” Ian said, his voice hard. “The deal stands. I pay you when you get the dragoness. If you need additional resources to complete your task, then I suggest you stop whining to me for handouts and figure out a way to get the money yourself. Go take some from a human or something.”
Julius stared at the phone in horror. “Are you telling me to mug someone?”
“Well, I would hope you could come up with something more elegant than brute force,” his brother said. “But mugging will do in a pinch, yes.”
“No!” Julius cried. “I’m not going to start robbing random humans! That’s terrible!”
“Julius,” Ian said dryly. “That is what our kind has been doing for thousands of years. Where did you think the contents of Mother’s treasury came from? Donation boxes?”
He hadn’t quite thought of it that way, but Ian wasn’t finished. “You see, this is exactly why your life has come to this sorry state of affairs. You are simply unwilling to do what needs to be done.”
Julius was unwilling to believe they were actually having this conversation. “I don’t think my failure to cross the ‘petty crimes against innocent people because your brother is too cheap to give you an advance so you can do your job’ line qualifies as a summation of my existence.”
“Actually, I think it sums it up quite nicely,” Ian said, his voice growing irritated. “When are you going to understand that this isn’t about the money? It’s about you growing some fangs and finally learning that there’s no place in our world for nice. Nice dragons finish last, if they finish at all, and we have no room for losers in this family. So stop whining, get yourself straight, and get me some results, or I call Mother, and we cross one more Heartstriker off the roster. Do you understand me, little brother?”
Julius closed his eyes with a ragged breath.
“I’m waiting.”
“Yes,” he growled.
“Good,” Ian said, his voice smooth as silk again in an instant. “I’ll be expecting word of your success by tomorrow.”
Julius almost choked. “Tomorrow? But—”
“You’re a dragon,” Ian said. “Figure it out.” And then he hung up.
Julius lowered the phone with a muffled curse, kicking the dead street lamp as hard as he could. The metal pole rang like a gong, startling a small colony of bats that had taken up residence in the broken light fixture. It also startled the pigeon perched on top of the ancient NO PARKING sign directly above Julius’s head.
The bird took flight with a frantic spate of flapping, sweeping so low its tiny talons almost caught Julius’s hair before it found its wings and flew straight up into the dark, vanishing through a crack in skyways high, high overhead.
Chapter 6
Meanwhile, high atop a superscraper in the Upper City, far from the dirt and tawdry worries of the world below, Svena, White Witch of the Three Sisters, Terrible Serpent of the Sibirskoe and, once, in a moment of youthful indiscretion, the Savage Protector of Ljubljana, lay reclined in Ian’s enormous bed, regarding her newest lover through slitted eyes.
Said lover, however, was not looking at her. Ian was typing messages into the AR keyboard of his phone, an activity that had occupied his attention ever since he’d hung up on his whining puppy of a baby brother. But where a younger, less secure dragoness would have been deathly insulted by such divided attention, Svena did not mind. As the second daughter of her own clan, she understood the demands of having to report on the doings of absurd younger siblings, and anyway, the lull in their activities gave her a chance to enjoy the view.
And what a view it was. All dragons were pleasing to look on in their human forms, but Svena had always secretly considered the Heartstrikers a breed unto themselves. There was just something intoxicatingly exotic about their warm tanned skin, sharp, haughty features, and straight, ink-black hair that brought to mind equatorial climates and golden cities full of cowering humans who still remembered their rightful place. Even Ian’s eyes reminded her of bright green jungles, and this was just his mortal disguise. After hearing tales of Bethesda’s beauty for the last thousand years, Svena was perishing of curiosity to see if the Feathered Serpent’s glory had bred true in her son, enough that she’d actually asked him to change for her as they’d lain together in the aftermath. A request that Ian had refused, the clever little snake.
“I see what you are doing,” she said when he finally put down his phone. “You are teasing me. You think if you do not show me your feathers, curiosity will drive me back to your clutches.”
Ian leaned across the silk sheets to kiss her bare shoulder. “Naturally.”
She arched an eyebrow, and Ian gave her a serpentine smile. “If I wasn’t sure you could see through such a shallow ruse, I would not have pursued you in the first place. Fortunately for me, knowledge of the bait’s true nature does not lessen its temptation.” His smile widened. “Of course, considering how much you enjoyed being in my clutches, perhaps I didn’t need to bother with bait at all.”
He reached for her as he spoke, but Svena slid away at the last moment, rising from the bed with a languid stretch. “Arrogant creature. You talk very big for a hatchling not yet out of his second century.”
“You deserve no less,” Ian said, lying back on the bed to watch her. “A little youthful arrogance would serve you well, Svena, and you know it. That’s why you agreed to come home with me in the first place.”
She picked up her discarded dress off the floor and pulled it over her head. “Are you a seer, then, to predict what I do?” When he didn’t reply, she turned to face him and let her human form recede. Not fully, not even enough to change size. Just a hint, an icy whisper to remind him of the force he was daring to taunt. “Do not presume to know my mind, little dragon. Perhaps I only wished to see for myself if you were as wanton as your mother.”
For a moment, Ian’s green eyes flickered. That surprised her, but then, she’d never met a Heartstriker who could stand to hear his mother’s name impinged. A prideful idiocy, Svena had always though, and a pointless one. With ten clutches from ten different fathers in barely a thousand years, Bethesda the Heartstriker’s honor was an impossible thing to defend.
“My mother is my mother,” Ian said, lifting his chin with a look of such arrogance, Svena’s breath caught in delight. “A great and powerful dragoness who commands the largest dragon clan in the world. When the magic faded centuries ago, your mothers fled beneath the Siberian ice, sleeping and hoarding their p
ower out of fear. My mother adapted, and now that magic has returned, she is already moving to make this world her own. It’s true she isn’t an ancient power, but no power lasts forever, Svena. By the time your mothers wake, they will find themselves forgotten, and Heartstriker will be the name all the world fears.”
Svena regarded the young dragon in the bed with a new eye. “I was wondering when your true colors would show,” she said softly. “Is this why you invited me here? To spew Heartstriker propaganda? Or are you Bethesda’s lure? A tasty morsel to tempt me into a mating flight so she can add another clutch to her army?”
Ian rose from the bed in one swift motion and stalked forward to stand right in front of her. Given the age difference between them, Svena was certain she was the larger dragon, but in their human forms, she and Ian were the same height. Yet another reason she’d accepted his suit. Svena despised being looked down upon.
“Just because I respect what my mother has built does not mean I’m bound by her plans,” he said quietly. “Not when there are so many other, more tempting options available.”
Svena flashed him a predatory smile. “Does that mean you wish to turn traitor?” she whispered, reaching up to run her nails over the smooth shaved line of his jaw. “Poor Ian, we’re not interested. Our clan is full up. And in any case, you’d make me a very bad sister.”
“The last thing I wish to be is your sister,” Ian replied, fearlessly leaning into the knife-sharp tips she’d pressed against his skin. “But there are more things in this world than siblings and parents, Svena.”
She removed her claws from his face, waiting for him to finish, but all Ian gave her was a long smile before turning away.
“For an ancient and wise dragoness, you think very small,” he said, walking over to retrieve his robe from its hook inside his expansive closet. “I may not be the oldest or the strongest of my clan, but I am, without question, the most ambitious of all Heartstrikers, and my plans for you go far beyond anything our mothers could dream.”
It had been so long since anyone had dared to play a game like this with her, Svena was forced to take a moment to make sure her voice didn’t betray her excitement. “And what would these fantastical, undreamable plans entail?”
Ian chuckled, a low, delightful sound. “For that, you’ll have to come to me again. Tomorrow night. I’ll send a car.”
“Clever snake,” Svena whispered, wagging her finger at him.
She was enjoying this game far more than she’d expected to when she’d accepted his bold offer at the restaurant. Being around so much raw ambition brought back old dreams she hadn’t considered in many, many years, and Svena couldn’t help thinking that perhaps Ian was right. Perhaps the centuries had made her complacent. Her eyes lingered on Ian’s silk-clad back as he walked to the sidebar to pour himself a drink. Maybe she did need someone young and hungry to remind her what it meant to be a dragon.
But while she was now certain she’d take the lure he offered and come again tomorrow, Svena saw no reason to tell him that. Ian wasn’t the only one who could play this game.
With a coy smile, she walked over and turned around, motioning for him to zip up the back of her dress. Ian obliged, his fingers skimming over her skin so lightly she knew he was doing it on purpose, and she liked that knowledge even more than his touch. Oh yes, this would be a fun game indeed.
When she was presentable, Svena gathered her purse and coat from the couch where she’d flung them and walked out without a word, leaving Ian to stare after her and wonder. Only when she was safely ensconced in the private elevator coming down from his penthouse at the top of one of the DFZ’s most prestigious superscrapers did she allow her coy smile to broaden into a real one.
As ordered, her limo pulled up the moment she stepped into the lobby. She swept past the bowing human doorman and into her softly lit vehicle without pausing, but it wasn’t until she’d settled into the dove-gray seat and the car began to pull away that she realized she wasn’t alone.
“Enjoy your evening?”
Svena’s body went still as a cobra’s before the strike. Only her eyes moved, flicking to the front of the limo, where an amazingly beautiful woman lay sprawled like an ancient queen across the car’s rear-facing seat. She was as tall as Svena, her skin just as pale, but unlike Svena’s icy blond, this woman’s hair was true white, framing her face like a river of snow. But then, Estella was the oldest of them all. It only made sense that she’d go white first.
Despite her dramatic appearance, however, her older sister had yet to actually look up from the crumbling paperback in her lap. That was not unusual. Estella had read a book a day since the invention of the printing press. Centuries ago, when she and Svena had still been close, Estella had confessed that she didn’t even like most human writing. She did, however, like surprises, and novels were the only stories where a seer didn’t know the ending before it began.
“Svena,” Estella said again, her voice sharpening as she turned a page. “I asked you a question.”
“And I am deciding whether or not it deserves an answer,” Svena replied, hiding her nervousness behind cold indifference. “If you are merely prying into my affairs, then we have nothing to discuss. But then, perhaps you are here because you wish to compare notes? Did you not enjoy a Heartstriker once?”
That was a very sore subject, and Estella closed her book with a snap. “I think there has been a misunderstanding. I instructed you to enchant that chain and give it to the Heartstrikers because I foresaw it would lead to the return of our darling baby sister. I do not recall suggesting that you continue the acquaintance to the point of absurdity by consorting with the spawn of Bethesda the Broodmare. And not even one of the famous ones. Honestly, Svena, couldn’t you have done better than an I? Isn’t she only on J?”
“I do not recall requesting your opinion on my private dalliances,” Svena replied icily, folding her arms over her chest. “Why are you in my car, Estella? I thought the entire reason behind sending me to the DFZ after Katya was so that you wouldn’t have to lower yourself by entering Algonquin’s little experiment personally. What changed your mind?”
Svena posed the question more out of habit than any real expectation of receiving an answer. Even if Estella did deign to explain herself, her reasons wouldn’t make any sense. Seer logic was only decipherable by other seers. Therefore, Svena wasn’t surprised at all when her sister dropped her paperback into her purse and placed her hands on her knees, announcing in her usual cryptic voice, “You begin to fade.”
“Sounds lovely,” Svena said, leaning over to check the limo’s automated control panel. “Do I get to enjoy this fading now, or is this my ten-year warning?”
Her only answer was silence, and she looked up again to find her sister staring at her with an intensity that suddenly made this conversation very, very serious. “Now is not the time for games,” Estella said. “I came here because your future is vanishing from my sight.”
Svena pressed her hands into the seat to hide her growing nervousness. “Vanishing how?”
“It started as soon as you left,” the seer said, touching her slender fingers to her forehead. “Bits and pieces at first, but now whole decision trees have passed beyond my reach. I didn’t even see Bethesda’s brat sneaking up on you until it was too late.”
Svena fought the urge to sigh in frustration. “So what does that mean? Am I dying?”
“Death would be better,” Estella said bitterly. “I would much rather you be dead than let him take you from me.”
Svena didn’t bother to hide her scorn at such a notion, or her bared teeth. “No one takes me. I am the White Witch of the Three Sisters, feared on seven continents. I am no one’s prey!”
She finished with a roar, but Estella was already shaking her head. “This is not a battle you can fight. Not when you debase yourself so willingly before that pretty whelp of a dragon, listening gladly while he pours poison in your ear against our mothers, against me.”
&
nbsp; Svena narrowed her eyes. “I hope you are not questioning my loyalty to our clan.”
“I don’t need to,” Estella said. “You already have.”
Centuries of experience kept all signs of shock from Svena’s face, but nothing could silence the sudden pounding of her heart. Seer or no, there was no way her sister could know thoughts Svena had barely considered herself, and yet Estella was glaring at her as though she’d already turned traitor.
“You are approaching a crossroads, little sister,” Estella said, leaning forward. “I saw it coming many years ago, but I could never foresee see its outcome. Now, at last, I know why. I am being blocked. Another seer has entered the game, and you let him in. You took the Heartstriker’s bait. You let yourself be played!”
“That’s absurd,” Svena scoffed. “I would never—”
“You will!” Estella snarled, her ice blue eyes flashing in the dark car. “I know you, Svena. I’ve known you all your life, that which you’ve lived already and that which is yet to come. Of all our mothers’ daughters, you were always the most ambitious. You fought tooth and claw until you stood at the head of the world’s most-feared clan, second only to myself and our mothers. I always admired you for that, but even a dragon can reach too high.” She flashed her sister a deadly smile. “It would be a great shame if you were to lose all you’ve fought for because you believed the empty promises of a handsome young dragon and his grasping clan.”
Svena’s nails bit into the seat beside her, puncturing the soft leather. “I do not appreciate threats.”
“Oh, but it’s not a threat,” her sister said innocently. “It’s a warning, and a courtesy. I can no longer foresee if you will be clever or foolish, so I am forced to tell you what you should already know.”
“Because you think I will be foolish?” Svena growled.
“Because I think you will be fooled,” Estella growled back. “There is no path worthy of the daughters of the Three Sisters save the one I lay out. I am both the eldest and the seer. I always know best. You would do well to keep that in mind.”
