by Amy Sumida
“Well, I'm certainly not that.” Drostan winked at me.
I took a bite of my sandwich and sighed. He was right, the food was good. We ate a few minutes in silence. Drostan dined on the barbecue as if it were fine French cuisine, scooping small portions on his fork before setting them in his mouth. The only exception being the sandwich, but even that, he handled with care, his long, elegant fingers holding the bread without getting sauce everywhere—an impossibility in my opinion. Maybe he was using magic. I looked down at my saucy fingers and wondered if I should try it. Perhaps a layer of air to keep the sauce in place.
“Are you all right?” Drostan asked.
I looked up from my dripping sandwich. “Huh? Uh, yes, I'm fine.”
“No side-effects?” He waggled his brows at me.
“No.” I laughed. “None so far.”
“Good.” He went serious. “We're going to be okay, Seren.”
I flinched. Not because I didn't believe him, but because I needed to hear it. It was a simple, basic comfort; someone telling you that everything would be okay. Almost a platitude really, since there was no way for Drostan to know that. But it was a good one, and I was grateful for it.
“I hope so,” I whispered.
“Tell me about your children.”
“What?” I blinked at him.
“I want to know more about you.” Drostan shrugged. “You're a mother, that must be a huge part of your life. I've met Falcas, and he is a wonderful little boy. So, I'm curious about your other children.”
A soft smile hovered over my lips as I thought about my kids. “They're amazing, each one unique. Falcas is the most reserved. The most responsible. But that only makes his laughter more precious. No one laughs like my Fal.”
Drostan grinned. “I've always wanted children.”
My stomach clenched with the thought that if the Call were real, we'd likely have a child together. I had a picture of a white-haired baby with bright blue eyes. My children had taken after their fathers in appearance. Although, there were some touches of me in them, like the stars in Shahzy's and Caelum's eyes. It looked likely that they'd even inherit their fathers' magic as well, but then they were Goddess-touched, their very conception orchestrated by Danu. If I had a child with Drostan, it would be because of Danu, but she wouldn't necessarily touch the child. Especially if I conceived on Earth. Our child would be a mix of both of us. Maybe a little girl with dark hair and electric-blue eyes. Or a boy with white hair and emerald eyes with silver stars over them.
Oh, my God! I was daydreaming about having his baby! I blinked, snapping myself out of it, and cleared my throat.
“Children are hard,” I finally responded to Drostan. “But worth it. Shahzadi, my daughter with Raza, is probably my most challenging child. She's currently going through a rebellious phase which is evidently normal for Dragon-Djinn kids.”
“Oh?” He grinned. “She's the one who Killian called a demon, right?”
“That's my Shahzy,” I confirmed. “She can be a handful, but she's also brave and wild in the best ways.” I grinned even as tears came to my eyes. “She's going to be a force of nature one day.”
“Seren,” Drostan whispered as he took my hand. “I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have brought them up.”
I frowned at his concern then realized I was crying. “Oh!” I pulled my hand away and swiped at my face. “No, it's fine. I just . . . fuck, I may never see them again.”
“Nonsense!” he exclaimed. “They cannot hold us here forever. The Councils are looking for us, maybe even the Coven and the Casters . . .” he trailed off.
“Witches,” I whispered. “We haven't talked about that yet. Do you really think they're witches?”
“It would explain a lot.”
“They'd have to be Flamers,” I murmured.
“Excuse me?” Drostan looked aghast.
“It's what Killian and I call Flame Witches.” Then I blinked. “The man said that I couldn't hurt fire with fire. That, combined with the way the victims die, leads me to conclude that they have fire magic. Which would make them Flame Witches, and Flamers are descended from Djinn.”
“Why is that important?”
“Djinn are unusual fairies, as far as magic goes,” I explained. “Most can shapeshift and some even grant wishes. But those who grant wishes take more than they give. They can be tricksters, heroes, or the worst sort of villains.”
“Like people of any race,” he quipped.
“No, not like any race,” I said grimly. “You're old enough to remember Raza's grandfather, right?”
“Raza the First.” Drostan nodded. “But he went mad, Seren.”
“Did he? Or was he born evil?”
“What's evil?” He shrugged. “It's a construct based on what people want or don't want, and it's always influenced by perception. I'm sure that Raza the First had reasons for what he did. Many kings have done cruel things for good reasons.”
“That's an interesting perspective for a Seelie baron to have,” I murmured.
Drostan blinked and straightened. “We've already established that I have unusual views. It was why I left Fairy.”
“Yes, I remember,” I said softly.
Drostan didn't want to be ruled, especially not by my grandmother, who hadn't been as awful as Raza's grandfather, but she'd gotten close.
“But back to the Flame Witches,” he said. “Why are their ancestors relevant to this situation?”
“They dusted us,” I said. “I've never met another fairy, other than my father, who could do that. But a Djinn might be able to do something similar. Maybe magic stemming from wishes. I don't know. It may have been close enough that through the generations of witches, it shifted into a sleep dust.”
“But I thought Flame Witches could only manipulate fire?”
“They're witches, Drostan, and we've only known about them for a relatively short time. Who knows what they can really do? It's not as if we asked them to list their abilities. They've probably hidden a good portion of their magic from us. I know I would if I were one of them. Hell, maybe they can cast spells too, just like the witches in human stories. Maybe that dust is a type of spell.”
“Or maybe it's like the drugs,” he whispered in revelation.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe this sleep dust, as you call it, is science and magic combined. A tranquilizer mixed with magic and dried into a powder.”
“He did threaten to trank us,” I murmured. “Huh, maybe you're right. Still, if they're witches, they have to be Flamers.”
“And what if they're not?” he whispered, his gaze intense.
“What if they're not Flamers or what if they're not witches?”
“What if they're not witches?”
“What else is there? Humans?” I scoffed.
“Humans would know the science end.”
“But so would witches, and humans don't have magic; we have psychic abilities. Similar but different.”
“Verisande was working with humans, Seren,” Drostan reminded me. “What if she had human partners as well as security? And what if those humans have psychic abilities, and they found a way to imbue them into the drugs, just as Veri did with her magic?”
A chill went through me. All Extinguishers are descended from five Irish families who possess incredible psychic gifts. But they weren't the only humans with psychic abilities. Council members are recruited from outside the Great Families—humans with abilities significant enough to get them noticed. There are humans in the world with power, humans not associated with the Council, and one of the psychic powers that can manifest in humans is pyrokinesis—the ability to manipulate fire.
“But a human with pyrokinesis wouldn't be fireproof,” I argued. “And he implied that he was.”
“He could be lying.”
“No, that came out too smoothly, and he sounded almost as if he regretted telling us. I think he's immune to fire.”
“Couldn't pyrokinesis develop
into an immunity?”
“In a human?” I scoffed. “Not likely. You've watched too many movies.”
“Drew Barrymore.” He grinned. “She was fantastic.”
I laughed. “Yes, and Firestarter is a work of fiction. Although,”—I paused pensively—“before I knew I was part fey, I used my pyrokinesis to push fire away from me. One of my evaluation tests involved walking through fire.”
“They made you walk through fire?” Drostan scowled.
“They asked me to walk through a small fire if I could,” I amended. “And I did it. Perhaps our captor believes he can simply repel my fire using his control over it.”
“This is all fascinating,” Drostan drawled before taking another bite of food. He chewed, then went on, “But we've lost sight of the important question.”
“What's that?”
“Why would Flame Witches want to drug humans?”
“To control them.”
“Yes, but why? And they've failed to keep any humans alive. Is that part of the plan—eliminating all connections to themselves? Or are they still perfecting their formula?”
“They're perfecting it. That's what he said. They're perfecting it to control humans.”
“Right.” Drostan chewed his lip. “Then why do they want to control humans?”
“Could be for any number of reasons.” I shrugged. “Money, power, the fucking thrill of it.”
“They've gone through a lot of trouble for a thrill,” he noted.
I went still. “You think they have a larger goal in mind.”
“I know I would,” Drostan said grimly. “Get control of the right humans, and you could control the world.”
“Only if you control the Councils too.”
My stomach clenched. With me under their thumb and a drug to turn humans into slaves, these people—be they witches or not—could take over every government on the planet.
Chapter Fourteen
The video screen windows showed images that shifted with the time of day. The local news station and the ticking clock on a side table vouched for their accuracy, but I never sensed twilight. At twilight—dusk and dawn—every day I felt a surge in my magic. It was the time when my magic was at its most powerful and the only time I could twilight without a rath. But that power never came. I tried to reach for the magic several times and felt nothing. I knew then that the man had told the truth. I was trapped. Those fuckers had found a way to trap a Twilight Fairy. As night approached, the views in the windows darkened—along with my mood—until a star-riddled sky appeared. I stood before one and stared at it pensively.
A warm, tingling feeling abruptly swept over me. Almost an . . . awareness. It was an awareness! I could sense Drostan. What the hell? I knew he was showering in the bathroom, but now I could feel him in there. Sense his presence nearby. My breath stuttered. It couldn't be the Call; the Call of Danu didn't work like this. So what the fuck was it? Oh, sweet Goddess, he was coming toward me.
“What's wrong?” Drostan stood in the bathroom doorway in nothing but a towel.
My entire body zinged like a plucked harp string. I stared at his damp hair, clinging to his broad shoulders and streaming down his sculpted chest. Water dripped lazily from the ends, running over rippling, golden abs before soaking into the towel. His arms were fit but not massive, just a nice, sleek curve of hard muscle and smooth flesh. I followed the line of his shoulder to his throat as he swallowed nervously. I continued upward, over the masculine angle of his jaw to his lips. The bottom one was full and slightly pouting. His tongue darted out to lick it, leaving it glossy. My sex clenched and my nipples tightened. I lifted my gaze further, up his long nose to his eyes; they burned with magic.
“I forgot to get a change of clothing.” He waved limply at the armoire where we had discovered not only the promised games but also clothing for both of us, including our coats. The dresser was similarly full of underthings, and he headed there with stiff shoulders. “I just need to grab something.”
Like a predator, I watched Drostan pass by, my body coming alive with sharp arousal and my chest aching with . . . what the fuck?! The shiver in my chest felt a lot like love, but it couldn't be. Oh, hell, no. Had the Call found me at last? Had I been right, and Danu was merely waiting for the perfect time to hit me with it?
No! I hissed at Danu in my head even though I knew she couldn't hear me on her brother's planet. You promised! You don't get to do this to me again!
Oh, but Drostan's beautiful back was bent as he searched through a drawer, and water trailed down it from those damp locks. His skin was honey and cream, and my mouth watered. I could lick him dry, then he wouldn't have to bother with a towel. When Drostan straightened, my gaze went to the indents in his lower back and then the curve of his ass beneath the towel. He turned around and my stare locked on the bulge that pressed against the terrycloth.
“Seren!” Drostan jumped, startled.
I flinched as well; I hadn't realized that I'd walked over to him. I stood only a few inches away.
“Drostan,” I moaned, my gaze lifting to his lips.
“Oh, sweet Goddess,” Drostan whispered. “You feel it now, don't you?”
I shook my head to free it from the insanity, but it didn't help. When Drostan touched me, just a supportive hand on my upper arm, my body tingled as if he'd sent his electricity through me. I groaned and shoved him back against the dresser, then pinned him there with my body, my mouth going to his.
Drostan's tongue swept past my lips to tangle eagerly with mine. His hands bracketed my face, stroking me as if I were precious, not at all like the wild way I was touching him. My hands ran over the damp skin of his back, feeling the thick muscles twitch at my touch. Then I slid them lower. With a growl, I yanked his towel away. Drostan made a surprised sound, but then a soft sigh as our bodies pressed together once more, his cock hot and hard against my belly. I shifted my stomach against him, teasing him as I grabbed the thick curves of his ass.
Then a pair of golden eyes appeared inside my mind.
I gasped and shoved away from Drostan, staring at him in horror as we both panted in need. He was nude and heartrendingly beautiful, every solid inch of him looking as if it had been sculpted for my pleasure. And that piece of flesh between his legs wept for me, its pale length blushed with arousal.
“Oh, fuck.” I backed further away.
Drostan started toward me, but I held up a hand to ward him off. He stopped and bent to pick up the underwear he'd dropped. Cautiously, keeping an eye on me the whole time, he pulled on a pair of boxers, wincing when he tucked his shaft in. Then he grabbed the towel and moved in a wide arc around me.
“Drostan,” I whispered apologetically.
“It's okay, Seren. I understand.” He fled to the bathroom as he added, “It hit me hard the first time too.”
Then Drostan shut the door, and I crumpled to my knees to weep.
Chapter Fifteen
“I can't,” I said as soon as Drostan came out of the bathroom, fully clothed.
Drostan had been a while, and I'd heard the shower running again during that time. His erection was gone, so I was grateful for whatever measures he'd taken to be rid of it, but I was still quivering in need. Maybe I should take a cold shower too.
“You can't what?” Drostan whispered.
“I can't do this with you,” I said more firmly.”
“But you know it's real now,” he stepped forward angrily. “You feel it! We are called together.”
“Drostan—”
“No! I understand that you need some time to accept it, but we cannot ignore the wishes of our goddess, Seren. It will only go poorly for us. Danu wants us to mate. She wants us to have a child, and damn it, so do I!”
I stepped back.
“I want to do more than hold you, Seren,” Drostan growled as he stalked me. “I want to kiss you like I just did. I want to suck at your breasts and lick the sweet nectar from your sex. I want you drenched when I slide into you.”
“Stop!” I shouted, but it came out as a groan.
“I want to see you riding me,” he went on mercilessly as he grabbed me by my hips. “I want to watch a flush sweep over your breasts and rub your nipples as you slam down on my cock. I want to bend you over that table and feel your pussy tighten around me as you scream my name.”
“Drostan, stop!” Dear Goddess, I could almost feel what he was describing.
“You want me too. Tell me you don't, and I'll stop, Seren.” Drostan bent to kiss me, just a testing brush of his lips over mine.
