by Amelia Jade
“Welcome to Top Scale,” Daxxton said.
Asher hurried to follow after him, feeling extra clumsy and awkward as he shifted back to his human form in yet another shower of hail and frost.
The building they approached was a simple, squat affair, three stories tall at most. There were three distinct sections to it, each joined by a single-story corridor. He wondered about the clear-cut separation.
“Recruits, follow me,” Blaine said as they entered the front doors.
Daxxton didn’t say another word as he disappeared to the right.
Asher followed Blaine as they moved into the left-hand section of the building. They were in a common room that extended the full three stories of the building. It occupied fully half the section of building. Windows on three sides let in immense amounts of sunlight. The fourth side, directly opposite of where they had entered, was filled with a staircase that led to the next two floors. A walkway ran from left to right, pure glass with metal casing. There were doorways set into each floor, six apiece.
“This is where you will live for the duration of your time spent at Top Scale,” Blaine said. “Pick a room. Dorms on floor three. Study rooms are floor two.”
Asher froze. “We’re living here?” he asked stupidly.
Blaine looked at him with a gaze that was equal parts annoyed and condescending. “Yes, you will. Is that a problem Mr. Owens? If it is, I could always have Rhynne here drop you back off near the border.”
He gazed at the floor sullenly as his cheeks burned from the embarrassment. The other recruits didn’t laugh, but he could sense their amusement nonetheless.
“No, that will be fine,” he said.
What the fuck am I going to do now? Quinn is expecting me to return later today!
He was so fucked.
***
“So, the first thing we’re going to do is introduce you to everyone,” Blaine said as they reassembled outside the building. Out back there were a number of stone circles, many more than the recruits and their instructors would need.
Asher idly wondered why the Academy needed so many more, but his brain didn’t stay there for long. It kept wandering back to the woman waiting at his house, expecting that he would return that evening to help figure out what the hell she was going to do. He couldn’t abandon her, not after he had brought her into his home.
So what the hell was he going to do, sneak out of the building late at night, fly stealthily away, and then sneak back before morning?
Yes. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. At least for tonight, to explain things to her and to see her on her way.
The idea of Quinn leaving left a rather sour taste in his throat, and once again Asher was reminded of the way his dragon—and if he were honest, more than just one part of him—had reacted to her presence. There was something about that woman…
“I am Blaine, and I am the senior instructor here.”
Asher blinked rapidly and focused on what was being said. He still needed to pay attention to the matters at hand before he could get back to Quinn.
Purple-streaked brown hair flashed in front of his vision for a split second.
“This is Rhynne Nova,” Blaine said, gesturing to the red-haired woman to his left.
Asher focused on the other man who had stepped up to the green-eyed dragon shifter’s right. His eyes were brassy-colored, suggesting to Asher that he might, in fact, be a Brass Dragon, one of the more elusive of the dragon shifters, although not nearly as rare as the golds.
“And this is Zander Pierce. They are your other instructors. You will obey their every word. Is that understood?”
Asher nodded as he tried to remember where he had heard that name before. Zander Pierce. It sounded so familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. Filing it away, he knew it would come to him at some time when something completely unrelated was filtering through his mind.
“Now,” Blaine said, continuing along. “The three of you, Asher, Zeke, Dominick,” he said, nodding to the three of them in turn. “You were all invited here at the recommendation of a prior graduate of Top Scale.” His expression turned serious. “Don’t make them regret that.”
Asher swallowed hard as he looked over at Rhynne. She had seen something in him, enough to recommend him for admittance to Top Scale. After having seen her prowess as a dragon, he decided he would do whatever it took not to earn her ire.
“Today’s first exercise. You all shift like a bunch of children. It’s time we taught you how to fix that.”
He smiled. That sounded good to him. Ever since his dragon had manifested at the tender age of fourteen, Asher had had to fight with it to get it to manifest. To bring it forth to the point he could control its body. His parents had provided him with the rudimentary knowledge they possessed, but that hadn’t gotten him very far at all. The idea of shifters bonding with their animals and becoming fearsome predators immediately was pure fantasy nonsense, better suited for books and movies—of which the humans had made plenty.
In truth, most shifters learned the basics of their animals, and then went about their daily lives. They got jobs and settled down with a mate, much like humans did. For dragons, this meant that most of them could barely fly, and he suspected many of the older ones could not. They became giant land-bound wyrms of immense strength, but no grace or skill. There was simply no time to practice, and the secrets of their kind were hidden to keep it that way.
Too many dragons with the knowledge Asher was going to gain would pose trouble to the world as a whole. No one was prevented from learning if they happened to do so on their own. But the knowledge of how to fly like a predator, to use the full extent of their breath weapon, and shifting with grace and speed, was all kept to an exclusive list. A list he now had the chance to join.
Asher vowed he would not end up like the others. He wanted to be able to glide through the air with the ease with which Blaine and the others did. To fire off his Frostfire like Rhynne did her Dragonfire.
He shook himself mentally and returned to the present.
Rhynne was speaking now. “The first thing to know about shifting is that you don’t summon the dragon. You release it…”
A smile crept across Asher’s face. He was going to like it here.
Chapter Four
Quinn
The sunlight streaming into the room through the crack in the blinds finally crept its way up over the mattress and then across her face as the sun rose higher into the sky. Quinn tried to turn over and fall back asleep, but it was too late. She was awake now.
She kicked out muzzily, throwing the thick down comforter back so that her skin could breathe.
“Whassat?” she blearily asked aloud, trying to figure out why she had had a comforter on her in the first place.
Where was her sleeping bag?
Asher hung up it to dry.
“That was nice of him,” she said aloud, using fists to wipe sleep from her eyes.
He was quite nice for a shifter, wasn’t he?
Quinn bolted upright, fully awake now as the memories of the previous night came crashing over her with a sudden flurry, reminding her of what had happened.
“Oh shit. Oh shit. Shit. Not good,” she said, untangling herself from the bed and looking around frantically.
She was in a room. Alone. That was a good start. The walls and floor were all thick timber that had been sanded and lacquered until it practically shone as the sun reflected off it. It was a bright wood, kept that way instead of the common practice of staining it darker. Quinn liked it; it made the room feel light and airy.
Like a nest high in the sky, perhaps?
There was a double wardrobe to her left, and desk along the right hand wall. She walked past the foot of the bed toward the far wall. There were two doors. The one in the center led to a beautiful ensuite washroom she saw after a quick peek. The one to the right, closer to the corner, was the exit, leading to a set of stairs back to the first floor.
There were
clothes folded carefully on a table next to the door. There was no note, but they were far too small for Asher.
Where had he gotten these from, I wonder?
Still, Quinn didn’t have much of a choice. She wasn’t currently wearing anything, and she didn’t know where her clothes were from the night before. Until then, she had to wear the outfit.
The clothes were still several sizes too big, but it worked for now.
“Asher?” she called softly down the stairs.
There was only silence.
“Hello?” she said again, a little louder as she moved to the landing halfway between floors, where the stairs rotated ninety degrees. She looked around, but there was no sign of anyone.
“Great. Stranded in the middle of shifter territory,” she said, surveying the ground floor.
The bedroom above only occupied a quarter of the space of the downstairs. This meant that three quarters of it was open-concept, with the roof being the only ceiling, except for the square that housed the bedroom, almost like a loft. It was gorgeous, and she loved the way the wood brought it all to life with its vibrancy.
Her stomach grumbled. Orienting on the kitchen she eyed the fridge, closing in for the kill, hoping that there was something delicious tucked away.
Something on the island countertop caught her eye. Pausing her stalking of the food, knowing it couldn’t run away, she looked at the piece of paper. It was a note.
Quinn,
I apologize for not being here when you awake, but I have other duties that require my presence for the day. I will return later this evening, though I, unfortunately, cannot give you any more of an accurate timeframe than that.
The fridge is stocked. Help yourself. The TV should even bring in a few channels, though I’m not sure if you want to subject yourself to the dull programming.
I must insist that while you have free rein of the house, that you stay inside the house, and do not go outside. Keep the blinds closed, and do not answer the door. As you are undoubtedly aware, you are not safe here. When I return, we shall figure out what to do next, so that you may continue your search.
Yours,
Asher.
She frowned at the last line, unsure of what to make of it. Was that just the shifter’s politeness, or was he trying to present himself as overly gentlemanly?
Quinn made a sarcastic noise. He had more than demonstrated his gentlemanly side the night before, when he had not killed her outright. Then he had offered her sanctuary. Thirdly, he had actually carried her all the way back to his house. Although the night was a blur, she had a hunch that if it wasn’t for the heat that had seeped into her body during the journey, she would have ended up sick, or worse. She owed him her life.
Setting the note back on the table, she opened the fridge.
“Oh my.”
He wasn’t kidding; the fridge was stocked. It took her a moment to decide just what she wanted, but after she did, some yogurt, fresh fruit, and a glass of orange juice made their way onto a plate she found in one of the cupboards after a brief search.
She ate slowly, knowing it had been a long time since she’d had food, and didn’t want to upset her stomach. As she munched on the fruit, her eyes kept flicking over to the curtain-covered windows near the front door.
What was out there, she wondered. Were there all sorts of shifters going by on the streets? Could she perhaps get her picture from here, without having to risk anything more?
No. Asher had said to stay inside, and to stay out of sight. What would someone think if they saw her through his window? Nothing she had seen indicated he was married or otherwise had a female in his life. Someone would get suspicious, and that could lead to far worse problems than sitting alone in a house for the day. It would be boring, but she knew she would survive it.
One little look couldn’t hurt, though. I’ll just open it a crack and see what’s out there. Who’s going to spot that?
The two parts of her mind went back and forth, warring with each other, until Quinn couldn’t stand it any longer. Without thinking about it a second time, she got up and moved over to one of the windows. Taking a deep breath, she gently grabbed one of the light gray curtains and tugged it back just enough for one of her eyes to see outside.
She could see about ten feet of lawn, and then several massive pine trees blocked her view of anything more.
“You sure can pick ‘em,” she muttered, letting it close and moving to the other side of the house.
This time she got a full view of the backyard. Including, unless her eyes were deceiving her, a staircase that led to the roof.
Why would he have a ladder to the roof? There was no balcony upstairs, and this is on a different side of the house.
Looking up, she noticed that the walls angled in slightly after the first floor, but that most of the roof was, in fact, flat from the inside.
“How odd.”
Determined now, she opened the curtain more, looking outside.
The yard was empty, unfenced, and besides a circle of stone perhaps a hundred feet in diameter, unoccupied. There was nothing but hills and wilderness beyond.
Cursing her sense of curiosity, Quinn grabbed her pack and moved to the back door and into the yard, well aware of how ridiculous she looked in her outfit. The plaid did not suit her, she was positive of that fact, but it would have to do for now.
After another glance ensured she was in fact alone, she made a beeline for the ladder. True to her thought, it went all the way to the roof. With a silent prayer to anyone listening, she ascended it, slowing to almost a halt as she reached the top.
The roof was inlaid with a thin layer of stone in a circular pattern like the yard below.
“What the hell?” Frowning in confusion, Quinn reached out and, after a brief hesitation, touched the stone.
Nothing happened. Shrugging, she crawled out onto the roof, staying low. There was a lip that ran around the three sides, though it was absent on the side with the ladder. What was this place? It looked like a bloody landing pad. Did he own a helicopter?
Then it hit Quinn.
“Holy shit, it is a landing pad. He’s a flying shifter. A gryphon or Pegasus maybe.”
That still didn’t explain the two different landing pads, but she was unlikely to figure that one out without asking him. Which if she did, would reveal she had been outside the house. Okay, keep quiet on that one for now.
Sliding closer to the front of the house, she got her first glimpse of the surrounding land.
There wasn’t much. Quinn frowned. They were in the middle of the country!
A closer look told her that wasn’t exactly true. She could see other houses, but there was all kinds of empty land between them. She wasn’t going to get her picture here, that was for sure.
There was a town in Cadia, she knew that. But they were clearly not close to it. Her eyes couldn’t pick out a cluster of buildings anywhere on the horizon.
She did, however, see something else. Far to the left of the house—north, she thought, judging by the sun’s position—there was something in the air. Watching it closely, she brought out her camera and focused on it, using the lens to allow her to see farther than her human eyes could make out.
“No way.” The two words did not do justice to what she was seeing.
A dragon the color of blood flew through the air, massive wings powering it forward at an incredible pace. Quinn was forced to keep zooming out to keep it in sight.
It was growing larger, and she began to make out details.
It was growing larger.
Cursing as she suddenly clued in to what that meant, she stuffed her camera back in the waterproof sack and scrambled off the roof and back inside. The door couldn’t lock nearly fast enough behind her, and she ran up the stairs, shutting the door into the bedroom as well, ready to throw herself under the bed if something entered the house.
She held her breath, ears listening intently for any sound that would indicate the drag
on was landing. It was unlikely it would just tear someone else’s house down, but she wasn’t willing to bet on it. A beam creaked and she almost lost control of herself as terror filled her every bone. The bag was clutched close to her chest protectively. Quinn knew that even if she didn’t get the shot she had come for, the picture of a dragon like the one she had seen would give her a big chance to win as well.
Even as she thought it over, it became more evident to her that that might be the picture she ended up using, if one of them was any good. There were very few pictures of dragon shifters, and most of them were blurry. They were notoriously reclusive creatures in their animal form, and refused to allow themselves to be photographed.
Quinn was shaking as she realized the incredibleness of what she had witnessed.
This trip was proving to be more profitable than she had ever imagined!
***
The rear door clicked as a key was inserted.
Quinn rolled off the couch in the dark and grabbed the knife from nearby, moving as stealthily as possible to her chosen spot behind the door.
A second later the door opened and someone strode inside.
She shrieked and swung the knife at the intruder.
A hand shot out, grabbing her fist and holding it still, the grip like that of a steel vise. Then it twisted and brought her around so that her back ended up pressed against the intruder with the knife still in her own hand, but now resting against her throat.
“Quinn?” the voice asked in surprise, reaching out to flick on the lights.
“Asher?” She relaxed, sagging with relief now that he was back.
“What the hell was the knife for?” he asked, his second hand coming up to take the weapon away from her.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long, stressful day of hoping that nobody realized I was here, and I guess I just created some demons in my head.”
He released his grip on her, though she lingered an extra moment before pulling away, enjoying the burst of heat that had spread across her back as she was enveloped in his grip. She turned to look at him, and her jaw dropped open.
