Dragon Rage

by Kelly Armenta

  “And did he mention what we might get out of this deal?” Jace inquired sharply.

  “Status quo… a guarantee he wouldn’t allow Valentine to enslave us. And freedom for Marcus.”

  “And he demanded we give you to him as a token of our agreement?” Gareth breathed, his blue eyes going hard.

  “He didn’t actually say those exact words. Though he had his hands on me at the time, and I would have had to be deader than he is to mistake his meaning,” I muttered.

  Jace glanced at Gareth and something passed between them that I couldn’t follow. Whatever it was didn’t bode well for Blake. I knew they weren’t going to be happy. Maybe I should have kept that last bit to myself. Gareth turned back to me and stared. “That would not have been wise,” he informed me.

  I shrugged and added, “Are you aware that over fifty Weres and Wiccans have gone missing in the past six months? Bodark wants to set up a meeting between me and Dten to see if the Dwarf will tell me if they have had any of their people go missing too. Apparently the Fey refuse to discuss the current problem with the Weres. Bodark isn’t sure if the disappearances are only humans with powers, and non humans, or if they include the Fey too. Also, your little friend Kajsa let in the Vampires that attacked us the first night I was here. Blake mentioned they’d heard a woman with power had entered the club and not left. He said it made Belinda jealous, so she convinced Valentine to send his youngsters after you. Blake said she had ‘history’ with you. I can only assume she meant Jace, since they’ve been together. Unless you turned her down at some point in which case she might not like either of you.”

  “Was there anything else?” Jace asked, his eyebrow raised and a chagrined look on his face. I wasn’t sure what it was caused by, the fact I’d unearthed so much information or the shocked looks the rest of the men were giving him because he’d been with Belinda.

  “Blake was surprised that Ricky was still alive. Someone else must have repaired his memory and sent him back to us. And Ricky didn’t have time to inform Valentine about my… abilities before Jace had him put in the park. Blake told me the next set of Vamps Valentine sends for us won’t be youngsters. I think we should have someone come in immediately to consecrate the doors. Will that be a problem for you Kit?” I asked, turning toward him as he sat quietly listening to me ramble on.

  “Not as far as I know. I am not undead and protection spells won’t harm me since it isn’t me you’re trying to keep out.”

  “So do you know any clergymen?” I asked, my eyes moving to Jace, then Gareth.

  “You do not require a human for this,” Amras replied quietly. “I have some small power and can ward against the undead. With Owen’s assistance it can be done tonight. It would please me to do this for you.”

  “Your assistance would be welcome,” Gareth replied. I placed my feet on the carpet and stood; I couldn’t sit there another moment. Amras was slipping away from us and the rest of our problems seemed immaterial. I didn’t care that they were angry with me, or that Valentine was sick and wanted to collect us like toys. I just wanted tomorrow to be over so I could face my Grandmother and somehow convince her to let Amras stay here.

  “I do believe I have an errand to run,” Kit remarked as I quietly gathered up my wrap and purse.

  “Don’t kill him,” Jace muttered. “Now is not the time to start a war with the Weres.”

  “Fine, I won’t kill him… yet,” Kit replied, though he didn’t look happy about it. “I’ll just pop over and retrieve what he took from us.”

  I didn’t say anything and just started walking toward the hall, my eyes trained on the carpet. At the moment I just didn’t care. Between my anguish over Amras and the fact that I’d blown a fuse and thrown a tantrum, I was feeling pretty depressed. Or maybe it was that none of them seemed to trust me.

  “Lexi,” Gareth called. I stopped but didn’t look at him. “We owe you an apology.” I waited while I continued to stare at the floor until I heard him sigh, “It is our nature to protect that which we cherish. Please do not be angry at us for wanting to keep you safe. When it comes to our hearts, it is difficult to remember you are a Hunter and can take care of yourself. But we are truly sorry. We never meant to make you feel we do not trust you. We do. And in spite of us, you did well tonight.”

  I nodded and walked down the hall, thinking I really liked my men, but dealing with them sometimes was a real pain in the posterior. After I got done yelling at Mi next time I saw her, I might just fall to my knees and thank her for blocking my sexual drive until I was twenty five! Surely if I’d had to deal with them in my teen years someone would have died.

  In my room I dropped my purse in the bedside table, taking a moment to remove the box that had held the key and turning it over in my hands. Alan was smooth. I’d have to keep that in mind. Dropping the box back in, I closed the drawer and crossed to the closet, taking a moment to hang up my wrap and stripping out of my dress. “Areth, can I have something to wear?” I asked softly, and then pulled a floor length negligee in lavender silk and lace off of the hanger when it appeared. I slipped into it and pulled on the matching string panties that were wrapped around the hanger’s hook. Glancing down at myself I smiled grimly and reached for the chopsticks, giving, my head a shake and sending my hair cascading down to my hips. The sheath gathered across my breasts like something from an old Regency Romance novel. It had tiny straps and a wide lace insert that fell from below my barely covered breasts to the floor down the front of me. The lace panel wasn’t connected to either side so when I walked it was supposed to split up the middle of my thigh. On another hanger was a sheer robe with a frilly collar and sleeves that gathered at the elbows. Lace extended from the elbows in a wide sleeve that looked like it was meant to flow over my wrists. It matched, and I assumed they were all meant to go together. I pulled on the robe and tied it with the draw strings between my breasts. The outfit came complete with little lavender fuzzy high heels; I sighed and slipped them on then headed for the bathroom.

  When I came out, Cursed was standing in my room staring at the photo of the Elves. He shifted and turned to watch me. I saw his eyes go smoky and his body tense. He made a pleased sound in his throat as his eyes followed me across the room.

  “Cursed,” I acknowledged him as I crossed to my bookcase, stopping in front of the section that held my flute. The recessed lighting shown down upon its golden length and I was overcome with a very strong urge to play. So strong in fact, that my fingers tingled and my palms itched. I plucked it from it’s holder before I changed my mind.

  Cursed watched me closely as I carried my flute toward my bed. “My Lady?” he breathed, his voice sounding worried. “Do not do this,” he told me as his arms uncrossed and he looked like he might take a step toward me. I sensed his intent was to take the flute from my hands, and something inside me shifted. I blinked and my eyes started whirling slowly, I could feel that they had gone multi-facetted. When I stared back at Cursed he paled at the look on my face and dropped to a knee, his eyes wide and confused.

  “I must,” I replied and turned from him, then climbed onto the bed. Something had hold of me. I could feel it swirling inside like a compulsion. I seated myself among the cushions, somehow remembering to place my legs together bent at the knee instead of crossing them as I’d done last time. “Get up, Cursed,” I called to him in a voice that sounded hollow, not my own. “Come,” I invited and motioned to the end of my bed, watching as he rose gracefully and came to me, careful not to touch me as he seated himself at my feet.

  I closed my eyes and raised my Elfin flute to my lips and began to play softly. The music was solemn, sad, and sweet and heart wrenching. My heart was heavy and it poured into the music, filling the room. There was no joy to my song, no light in the dark. It was a lament, tears shed for a lost love full of pain and suffering. I played for what was to come, channeling my heart’s distress into the music. I lost all sense of time as I played. My mind consumed with the notes and melody. I
sensed Cursed shift on the bed but I ignored him.

  When I came back to myself I was cold and the muscles of my arms were cramping. My hand shook as I lowered the flute to my lap and pulled air into my lungs. I was afraid to open my eyes, sensing that I had done it again. In my mind I could feel minds pressing on mine and knew Cursed and I were no longer alone in the room.

  “Are you well?” Cursed asked, his voice holding no emotion, as if my song had stripped it from him. I sighed and opened my eyes to find him very near me, his long hair brushing my knee. As tears spilled from his dark eyes and ran down his cheeks, I lifted a shaky hand and gently brushed them away. He searched my face, his eyes intense. When I smiled he seemed to release the breath he was holding and turned his head toward the room. I hesitated, but followed his glance almost afraid of what I might find.

  It was worse than I suspected and I reached for Cursed’s arm, my fingers tightening on him so that he turned back to look at me in alarm. “The Queen’s guard,” he told me. His voice had gone flat as if he was already withdrawing emotionally from me. When he would have moved away, I snaked my arm around his bicep and pressed my body to him.

  “Do not remove yourself from me,” I whispered. “Please, Cursed… I could not bare it. Not now.” He stilled, and in his eyes I could see his struggle.

  “You do not know what you ask,” he growled and yanked his arm from me, sliding to the floor and giving me his back. He stood with his hands on his hips. His feet spread shoulder width staring at the three strange men, and one not so strange man, that my flute had brought to my room.

  I swear I felt my heart tear at his harsh words and my blood seemed to freeze in my veins. Pride kept me upright but couldn’t prevent me from swaying like a leaf in a breeze. The flute rolled from my lap and I stared down at it in anguish.

  What had I done?

  Chapter 13

  “Call off your dogs,” Marcus growled. He was standing with his arms crossed staring at me, his light eyes angry. Sharp blades pressed against him from three directions and I could see at least two blades had actually pricked him, leaving trails of blood down his neck. Obviously the Queen’s guards took their job seriously.

  “You may lower your weapons.” Three heads bobbed in my direction and swords were lowered, but not sheathed, as they took a step back widening the circle around Marcus. Smart men.

  “Did you invite me here to watch you play with these… Elves?” Marcus demanded, his eyes raking me. The three surrounding him tensed and at least two sword tips were raised en point. “I think my Mother is right about you.”

  I sucked in air and narrowed my eyes until they were mere slits. “Belinda is not your Mother, Marcus.”

  “You lie.”

  I took a moment to try and calm myself before I did something I might regret. It had been a long day and my emotions were in an upheaval. Giving myself a mental shake I took several deep breaths and leaned back against the pillows, forcing my body to relax. “Belinda may have carried you in the body from which you had to be surgical removed,” I told him. “But there is nothing of her in you. She was a surrogate… an incubator… nothing more.”

  His arms dropped to his sides and his fists clenched. His eyes narrowed and he actually took a step in my direction. A motion that was immediately stayed by a sword tip pressing against his lower jaw just at the neck.

  “Elfin steel; pay attention. You are like me Marcus. Your mother was Seelie, your father Dragon.” My comment shocked the three Elves who tensed but managed to refrain from turning to look at me.

  “No!”

  “Yes, and you should know Elves do not lie. My Father created you for a higher purpose. And yet there you stand… Valentine’s little plaything. What did he offer you for your soul?” I demanded.

  My words brought him up sharply. “What story is this? Next you’ll tell me you are my sister!” he scoffed.

  “Sister?… hardly!” and I forced myself to laugh. “My Father is Silver, yours was merely Brown.”

  “Prove it,” he demanded.

  I shrugged and straightened my robe over my knees. “Why would I waste my time? If you wished to find your true Mother I might help you. But not as you are now… a soulless creature tied to a bloodless master. I should allow them to take your head, as I believe it will save me the trouble of doing so later.”

  “You dare threaten me?” he breathed, and I could almost see him expand.

  I slid to the edge of the bed and onto the floor, pulling my body straight and forcing my shoulders back. Cursed took a step to his right away from me, giving me room. Inside me Goldy rose from her stone couch, her golden eyes beginning to whirl. Above us the outline of a large golden tail flicked back and forth, just as it had earlier when my Dad had done it. Harvard wasn’t the only thing we’d discussed at dinner and I was glad I’d been paying attention. The look on Marcus’ face was priceless. And when I cracked open the little red door and shoved my desire into him like a battering ram, his knees buckled and he went to the floor. This time the three guards also staggered slightly, then turned to me in shock but managed to hold their ground. Marcus was on his hands and knees gulping air and I took two steps in his direction. Kit had said Lust could be used as a weapon… how right he was. “I dare,” I hissed. “Because I can, and for the shame you have heaped on us all! I should kill you myself. You are no fit mate to me!” I growled, then took a breath and forced myself to calm down, telling him dismissively, “Run back to your master Marcus… you are weak and belong with him.”

  “Lexi, no,” he cried, lifting his head to me. “I did not want this! My Mother… Belinda tricked me. You must help me,” he choked out. I stared down at him thoughtfully as his false bravado flowed out of him like so much sand in an hourglass. It left him looking young and frightened.

  “Tell me of this hold he has over you. Tell me so I might prevent it from occurring to Jace and Gareth.”

  “I do not know,” he replied miserably. “When he speaks I must obey, his voice is insidious.”

  “And yet you are here now. Does he speak to you from a distance?”

  Marcus looked confused, as if he wasn’t sure how to answer the question. “I have not heard him since I came to be here,” he replied cautiously.

  “Is he listening to us?” I asked, my voice having gone soft… and dangerous.

  He tilted his head to the side, much as he had done upstairs last night. “I cannot tell.”

  My gaze swung to Cursed, who still refused to meet my eyes. That was just fine! I thought, my blood pressure starting to rise again. “Kit!” I gritted out and held out my arm. “Here?” I added more softly, visualizing him in his Dragon form. Darkness swirled and little red eyes appeared, then his black and silver body materialized around them and there was suddenly a clamoring in my head. This seemed to be a rather shocking evening for the guards. I didn’t even bother glancing at them. In Kit’s teeth was my golden dragon, still attached to the tie tack and a piece of Alan’s neck tie. There was blood on both, as well as three deep scratches on the side of his head stretching a ways down his neck. He looked pleased, and then annoyed, as he turned his head and caught sight of Marcus and the strange Elves in my room. I held up my hand as he spit out his trophy and told him, “Thank you,” as I ran a finger over my little gold, then placed it on the dresser table. “You will put it back for me later?” and he nodded.

  “Has Amras gone?” he asked, his red eyes glancing up at me and widening at the image I was projecting above me. “Ooohhh,” he muttered.

  “Not yet.”

  “What can I do for you, Mistress?” he asked, his glance flicking to Cursed and returning to me immediately.

  “Can you tell me if Valentine is observing our conversation?” I asked while Kit hopped to my shoulder and nuzzled his way carefully into my hair. He ended up with his face resting against my neck, his tail draped under the back of my hair.

  “No. There seems to be some kind of temporal shift surrounding this entire room.
Have you been playing the flute again?” he asked, glancing toward the bookcase where my flute usually rested. He sighed when I nodded.

  I wanted to know how he’d managed to get through, but didn’t know how long I had and didn’t want to waste this opportunity. It could wait. Instead I took a deep breath and continued speaking to Marcus. “Your Master is mad. He seeks to enslave us all and you would help him. Why should I lift a finger for you?” I demanded harshly. On my shoulder Kit jumped at my tone and his little red eyes began whirling.

  “Because… I am yours. You said so yourself,” he replied quietly.

  Air hissed between my teeth and had I been closer to him I might have slapped him; I was suddenly so angry. Our tail flicked again and Goldy growled low and sharp. Kit jumped again and eyes widened around the room. One of the Elves actually licked his lips. I placed my hands behind my back and considered my next words. “See these men surrounding you?” I asked, nudging my chin in the guard’s direction.

  Marcus moved his head slightly and glanced around before nodding.

  “These men were sent to me by the Queen, my Grandmother. If I free you, you will find yourself a subject of the Unseelie court. For while your mother was Seelie, she remains outside the Sidhe and is not of royal blood. This one,” I said indicating Cursed behind me, “is Prince of the Unseelie Court.” Beside me Cursed shifted and made a low displeased noise. I ignored him. “He allowed my Mother to escape the Sidhe fifty years ago and was thrown into a cell for more than a quarter century… where he endured frequent torture. The guards encircling you would probably prefer to kill him rather than look at him. Because they mistakenly believe he dishonored himself and had unlawful interaction with my Mother. And while it is true that his Uncle sits the throne, to the Seelie he is no more than a half breed traitor and is shunned by all. The Elves are a proud race, Marcus; they do not suffer fools lightly. Nor will I suffer fools lightly. If you wish to be saved you must convince us all that you are worthy. So tell me, why should I save you?”