Dragonbane_[AN_SK]

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

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  In memory of Vanessa Delagarza, and to all we have loved, who have left us too soon. We miss you, but you will forever live in our hearts.

  For my friends and readers who have filled my heart with love and joy. Thank you for being part of my life … the very best part.

  For my publisher, editor, agent, and the staff at Macmillan and Trident for all the hard work you do on my behalf. Thank you so very much!

  And as always, a special thank-you to my family for tolerating me and my absentminded ways when I’m on deadline. Especially for being so understanding when I tend to drift off mid conversation because I just “had a thought.” Love you all!

  PROLOGUE

  Arcadia, 2986 BCE

  Is this dead or hell?

  Maxis growled at his brother as he struggled to carry Illarion out of the filthy dungeon where he’d been held for more weeks than he could count. Damn, his little brother was heavy for a creature who made his meals mostly off field mice and wheat.

  Shut it, Max snapped at him with his thoughts. If you can’t help, then don’t distract me while I’m trying to save your scaly, worthless hide from the human vermin.

  I don’t know why you’re complaining so. Humans aren’t so bad. I rather like them, myself.… They taste like chicken.

  In spite of the danger surrounding them and his bitter rage over their latest “lovely” predicament and the betrayal that had put them here, Max had to bite back his laughter. Leave it to Illarion to find humor at the worst time imaginable. But then, that was why he was risking life, scale, and claw to save Illarion when all dragon-sense he possessed told him to abandon his brother and worry about his own cursed arse.

  You’re not making this any easier on me, you know.

  Sorry. Illarion tried to use his human legs to walk, but the weak, unfamiliar appendages buckled beneath him. How do they balance on these spindly things, anyway? He scowled at Max. How are you doing it?

  Sheer piss and vinegar … and the resolute need to live long enough to get to the ones who’d done this to them and kill them all.

  And after those poor demons went to all that trouble to cave-break you. They’d be so disappointed to see their efforts go for naught.

  Max let out a frustrated breath. I swear by all the gods, Illy, if you don’t stop your nonsense, I will leave you here.

  His expression sobering, Illarion fisted his hand in Max’s long, matted blond hair and forced him to meet his gaze. Go, brother. Like this, I’m nothing but an anchor to you and your freedom, and we both know it. Together, we’re caught. Alone you stand a chance at daylight again.

  Tightening his arms around his brother’s frail human body, Max locked gazes with Illarion. It was so eerie to see blue human eyes staring up at him and not his brother’s normal yellow serpentine ones. To stare into the face of a man and not a dragon. What had been done to them against their will was all kinds of wrong.

  Without their permission, they’d been bespelled, captured, and merged with a human soul that neither of them understood, or comfortably wore.

  One day, they’d been fully Drakos, the next …

  Human.

  But though they weren’t the same in form, they were still the same in heart and spirit. And one thing would never, ever change.

  We are drakomai! And we do not abandon our kinikoi. You know this!

  They might not cluster together in living communities, or share domiciles, once they reached their majority, but when the Bane-Cry sounded, they were honor bound to heed it and fight together until they defeated all threats.…

  Or death separated them.

  Illarion winced as he stumbled and fell, dragging Max down with him. Why did they do this to us? Isn’t it enough that they hunt and kill us for sport? That they’ve enslaved us for centuries? What more do the human vermin want of our kind?

  Max didn’t speak as he helped his brother regain his feet and staggered with him toward the narrow opening he prayed led to the forest where they might find shelter. The answer wouldn’t comfort Illarion any more than it’d comforted him. Rather, it pissed him off to no end.

  They’d been a merciless experiment so that King Lycaon could save his worthless, whiny sons who’d been cursed by the god Apollo to die at age twenty-seven. While Max could respect the man for not wanting to lose his children over a curse that had nothing to do with the king’s family, but over an ancient grudge the god bore the queen’s bloodline, Max didn’t appreciate being the means by which Lycaon hoped to accomplish the cure.

  Even now, he remembered the sight of the fierce Akkadian god Dagon in his blackened armor as Dagon had trapped him with his arcane powers.

  “Easy, Drakos,” the god had breathed as Maxis had struggled against him and done his damnedest to fight him off. “You’ll thank me for what I do. I’m going to make you better. Stronger.”

  But this was neither of those things. Never had he felt so weak or vulnerable.

  So lost.

  And the worst had been to awaken in front of his “twin.” A human male identical to this body whose soul had somehow been merged with his. Unlike Max, the human hadn’t been strong enough to survive the spell that Dagon had used on them. Probably because Dagon hadn’t bothered to learn what type of drakomai Maxis was before he cast his magick.

  Magick had never played well with Max’s accursed breed. It was why they’d been originally conceived and charged with their sacred duties.

  The weak human had died howling in agony a few hours after the spell-casting, as his body attempted to become a dragon’s form. While Max hadn’t enjoyed the transition to human, he’d survived it.

  Barely.

  He just wished he could control the impulse that threw him from human to dragon and back again. Those horrid transitions came at random intervals without warning. Something that kept him grounded for the time being, since the last thing he wanted was to be airborne when his wings turned to arms and sent him plummeting.

  “There they are!”

  Max hissed as he heard the humans behind them. He tried to use his powers on them, but like this …

  Useless.

  Illarion’s eyes widened in panic. Go! Leave me.

  Never! Better I die by your side trying, than sacrifice your life to save mine. I will not leave you, little brother.

  A single tear ran down Illarion’s bloodied cheek as they were overrun by the humans, retaken, and chained like the animals they were. Max fought as best he could. But since he didn’t really know how to use his human body, it did him no good.

  In a matter of minutes, they were dragged back to their dark, filthy cage where other species awaited the same horrid fate.

  Experiments for gods and man.

  Disgusted and furious, he held his brother in his arms and protected him as best he could while the pitiful creatures around them howled for mercy and death.

  What’s to become of us, Ma
xis?

  Honestly? He had no idea. But one thing was absolutely clear to him. We are drakomai. We are kinikoi. And if I have to kill every human and god in this universe, above and below, my oath to you, little brother, you will fly again in blue skies as we were born to, and we will both live free of them and their wretched curses. No one will stop us.

  Yet even as he spoke those words, he knew what Illarion did. Some things were much easier said than done.

  And no matter the intent or heartfelt emotion, not all promises could be kept. A jealous goddess herself, Fate was a cruel, bitter bitch who often made liars of man and beast. Never one for mercy, she’d never shown any to either of them or his breed.

  “Does it live?”

  Max froze at the sound of the king of Arcadia’s voice as the old man neared their rusty cage. It was a gruff tone Max had learned to recognize, to his deepest regret.

  “Aye, Majesty. Both of the animals that were merged with the princes survived and are intact. Should we kill them now?”

  Max went cold at that.

  “No!” the king roared. “Those are my sons, too. Even if they are born of beasts, they are still of my royal bloodline, whether their hearts are those of my sons or of a mindless creature who was merged with them. They are all that remain of my precious Mysene, and I will never dishonor her. Fetch them to me so that I can embrace my blood and that of my fallen queen. I want to meet my wolfson and my dragonson and welcome them to this world.”

  1

  Sanctuary

  New Orleans, 2015

  “You know, really, someone should just drop a razor-wire fence around this entire place, and declare it an insane asylum.”

  Max snorted at Dev Peltier’s dry wit as he set the plastic rack of clean glasses on the mat for Aimee Kattalakis to put away. With blond hair a few shades lighter than Max’s, Dev was one of the rare males at Sanctuary who was also more muscular.

  Pausing behind the counter next to Dev, Aimee draped one long, graceful arm around her brother’s waist, and wrinkled her nose at him. “The correct term is mental health facility. Get with the times, you old knuckle-dragging cave-bear.”

  Max laughed at the female werebear’s quick humor. One thing about the prickly bar owner, Aimee always kept her brothers and employees on their toes. She stepped away to pick up two glasses from the crate and placed them on the shelf under the bar while she sang along to the jukebox metal song. For a bear, she had the voice of an angel.

  And that snarky, long-legged blonde had been one of Max’s favorite members of the Peltier bear clan since the day he’d sought refuge in the famed Sanctuary bar and grill her family had founded in the heart of New Orleans.

  Wounded and barely alive after a nasty encounter with an ancient enemy, Max had collapsed on the third floor of this very building, at Aimee’s feet. When he’d awakened a week later, she’d been sitting on the floor of their attic next to him, petting the scales of his head, completely unafraid of his dragon form, and humming a soft French lullaby. She, alone, had nursed him back to health and made sure that he survived. The true depth of her kindness and compassion for others had never failed to amaze him.

  There wasn’t a shapeshifter in this building or the one adjoining it who wouldn’t give his life to save hers.

  But none more so than the lucky dark-haired bastard who called her his.

  Fang Kattalakis came up to the front of the bar and passed around the specially brewed long-neck beers reserved for their “unique” shapeshifter metabolisms to let them know he’d locked the front door. A ritual that signified Sanctuary was now closed to the humans for a few hours of Were-Hunter respite. He angled his fortified beer at Max. “So many village idiots, brother. So few fire-breathing dragons.”

  Dev burst out laughing.

  Taking his beer, Max arched a brow at the strange remark, curious as to what prompted it. “Pardon?”

  Fang released a long-suffering sigh as he glanced to his mate. “How attached are you to Cody? Can I offer him up as a sacrifice to Max? Please?” He glanced at Max. “I know he’s not a female or a virgin, but exactly how picky are you dragons about those things?”

  Not wanting to go there for several personal reasons, Max moved to break down and clean the soda dispensers while Dev prepped the beer taps. “Depends on the dragon.”

  Aimee tsked at them. “Please don’t kill and eat my little brother. I don’t want to listen to you bitch about the indigestion he’d give you, and I doubt Carson has enough Rolaids to cure that burn. Probably take half the firefighters in Orleans Parish to put it out.”

  “Damn.” Fang sighed again. Then he looked up hopefully. “Hey, if I accidentally blew pepper in your face, Max, and you happened to sneeze, what are the odds you’d spew fire all over him?”

  Running carbonated water into a metal bin, Max shook his head at the wolf. “Doesn’t work that way.”

  “Then what good is having a fire-breathing dragon on hand?”

  “There’s always Simi,” Dev said. “With enough barbecue sauce, she’ll eat anything. Even obnoxious bear kin.”

  “Y’all are so bad.” Frowning, Aimee placed her hand to her distended stomach and sucked her breath in sharply.

  Fang immediately teleported to the backside of the counter to support her. “You okay?”

  Leaning back against him, she smiled up at her husband. “Your sons are frolicking like cubs on a picnic-honey high.”

  A proud smile spread across his face. “The little she-wolves are nocturnal.… Like their father.”

  She snorted at that. “I swear, if I have puppies, I’m turning you into a wolf rug for my floor.”

  Fang laughed, then kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you go on up and rest? I’ll finish closing and prepping the bar.”

  Aimee hesitated.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t even attempt the paperwork. After the gnarled mess I made of it last time, I have learned my lesson to keep my paws off it.” Fang motioned for the tall, blond Amazon who was sweeping the floor to join them. A former Dark-Hunter, Samia was Dev’s better, much more attractive half. In spite of the Greek goddess Samia had once been enslaved to that Max couldn’t stand, Max liked Sam a great deal, especially since she didn’t talk much. And she never asked him questions about his guarded past—something he appreciated even more.

  Like Aimee, Sam was compassionate and kind when it came to others, whether they were people, animals, or a mixture of the two.

  As soon as Aimee’s pregnancy had been made public, Sam and Dev had moved back into Dev’s old room in Peltier House next door to soothe Dev’s fears, as he worried like an old woman over the health and well-being of his only sister. Not that Aimee needed it. With eleven blood-related brothers and even more in-laws and close friends, she had more than her share of males wanting to help her lift any object in the place, and carve body parts off her husband for risking her life with a complicated hybrid pregnancy.

  “Sam?” Fang asked as the Amazon paused at the counter. “Will you please take Aimee up to bed for me and make sure she’s tucked in?”

  “Sure. Be glad to.” Sam held her gloved hand out to Aimee. “C’mon, hon. You don’t want to overtax yourself. You need to take care of those Chow Chows you’re carrying.”

  Aimee groaned at her worst fear of what her hybrid bear-wolf children might look like. “You’re off my Christmas list, Sam. Anyone else?”

  Dev held his hands up and shook his head.

  The bearswan glared at him, then turned toward her husband as Dev’s identical brother sauntered up to grab a fortified beer from Fang. The fierce, bloodthirsty grimace on his face would have sent small children screaming for their mothers and made seasoned gladiators wet their armor in terror.

  Aimee tsked at his expression. “Fang, make sure Dev doesn’t kill Rémi while I’m gone.”

  Popping the top off the beer, the bearswain looked at her with an even fiercer scowl. “Not Rémi … Cherif. Damn, Aims, you’re usually the only one who can tell
us apart. Has the pregnancy knocked loose your brain cells?”

  Aimee bit her lip. “Sorry, Boo. The way you’ve been scowling all night, I could have sworn you were Rémi.”

  Dev, Rémi, and Cherif were part of a set of identical quadruplets, with their brother Quinn rounding out their number. Alone, the bears were badass. Together, they were damn near invincible.

  Unless you happened to be a fire-breathing dragon. Then there wasn’t much in this world that provided a threat to your health or well-being.

  Cherif snorted. “Yeah, well, what do you expect? Y’all threw me upstairs with Etienne all night. He’s been dry humping my last nerve like it’s the only female he’s seen for a hundred years. I swear, Maman should have done us all a favor and eaten that cub at birth. At least it would have saved my humor … and sanity. You’re all lucky they’re not hauling me away for murder right about now.”

  “Here, here.” Dev clanked bottles with him. “Where is the little prick?”

  “Finishing up a hand of poker with Eros. I’m hoping he wins and the god splinters him on the wall in anger. That’s one mess I’d volunteer to clean.”

  Aimee met Max’s amused gaze. “Oh my God, they’re awful! I’m so glad you love your brother.”

  Max shrugged as he rinsed off the soda nozzles and put them back in place. “What can I say? Absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder, and the guilt of having him locked away in a hell realm for a thousand years means I have to tolerate any annoying habit Illarion possesses with utmost patience.”

  She popped Dev in the stomach. “See how great dragons are? You should be taking notes.”

  “Fine. Lock Etienne and Rémi in a hell realm for a thousand years and I promise I’ll be nice to them when they get out.”

  Fang laughed. “Give it up, Aimee. You’re not going to win this one.”

  “Are you seriously taking his side?”

  Fang went pale. “Uh, no. Never. I’m not a dumb wolf and I have no desire to sleep in a doghouse tonight.”