How had he become a vampire? Sylvia smiled, guessing that there had been a woman involved. What was in his library? She had to believe he had some great books, if he was willing to do anything to regain access to them. She understood that need, very well.
She sat alone in her basement office, studied the feather, and wondered just what it would take to find out Sebastian’s story. She wanted to know the truth. She was sure it would have a price.
But Sylvia Fontaine was ready for both risk and adventure.
She’d go to Reliquary and if she couldn’t find Sebastian himself, she’d talk to Micah. Someone had to have some idea where she could find the vampire who had captivated her so completely.
The Pyr conferred and Rania watched their plan come together. Sebastian had gone to the spare room behind the office, presumably to sleep for the day. Rania was glad the vampire was gone. She didn’t trust him any more than she thought Hadrian did.
Alasdair had set up a virtual meeting, with all of the Pyr logging in. It was amazing to Rania to realize that there were so many dragon shifters, and inspiring to see how determined they were to work together.
Hadrian wanted to get into the treasury soon and Rania knew she could deliver him there. Donovan’s gloves had been destroyed in the fire, but Quinn was finishing up his first batch of the new ones. He surprised them all with the confession that he’d been inspired by Hadrian’s methods to change things up. He was going to send two pair overnight to Alasdair and Balthasar, then the rest to New York as soon as possible. He thought he could finish enough pair by Thursday for the participating Pyr. Theo said he’d talk to Murray about arranging an emergency meeting at Bones to talk to the Others about joining the invasion of Fae. The details of what to do once they were in Fae were being hotly debated.
Rania was wondering how Hadrian would avoid detection in the Fae armory, when he took Alasdair’s notepad and began to write. When he was done, he spun it around for Rania to read his note.
Your mother suggested that I could destroy the gem of the hoard by freezing it.
Rania blinked. Of course, he could. And that would eliminate Maeve’s hold over the magick, which would give them all a fighting chance. She met his gaze, letting him see her excitement and he grinned.
It made sense that they weren’t having this conversation aloud. There should be no chance of Sebastian overhearing and potentially reporting it back to Maeve.
She took the pen from his hand and wrote.
Sebastian was supposed to deliver that splinter of ice: Maeve is going to believe I’m on her side. We can use that.
Hadrian read her note and nodded. She took the pen back and wrote a bullet list.
1. I’ll take you into the Fae armory so you can start melting weapons. How can you avoid detection?
Hadrian took the pen.
I’ll bank the fires. Can you take me in dragon form?
Rania winced and shrugged. That was a lot of mass to move.
He nodded in understanding and wrote again.
Then I’ll shift once my pulse is low; you can take me there and I’ll shift back. You’ll only need to be there for the blink of an eye.
Rania nodded and took back the pen.
2. I’ll go to Maeve’s court, as if I’m bringing a Pyr victim to kill in front of her to fulfill our deal, but in the end, we’ll turn the tables on her.
I’ll need a volunteer.
Hadrian nodded.
3. That battle will provide a distraction for someone—also a volunteer—to steal the gem of the hoard and get it to you in the armory.
4. Meanwhile, the Others will invade Fae, using Sebastian’s sword to open a portal between realms, and make as much trouble as they can while we free my brothers and escape.
Hadrian gave her a thumbs-up. He wrote Thursday Night beside the fourth item, ASAP beside the first one, then lifted his hand, inviting her suggestions on the timing of the other steps.
Rania tapped the word volunteer in item number two and met his gaze.
He indicated Balthasar and Alasdair, then shrugged, implying that one of them would step up. That would be one detail resolved. Rania circled someone in item number three and offered Hadrian the pen. She thought he might make the same answer, that either his cousin or his friend would volunteer for the first role and the other would be the thief.
Hadrian tapped it for a minute, then wrote.
A djinn.
Their gazes met and held. A djinn was a perfect choice. They could be terrific thieves and spies, given their ability to disappear into mist without warning. They were elusive and silent.
But they had to hate Rania. No djinn was going to be in a hurry to save Rania from the Dark Queen’s clutches. She pointed at the bichuwa, the holster back on her hip, and Hadrian sighed.
He took the pen.
You could apologize and ask for help at Bones. That might convince the Others to join us.
Rania exhaled and took a step back. She frowned at the very idea. She’d never spoken to her victims until Hadrian, and had never faced the consequences of her actions. She certainly wasn’t in a hurry to meet anyone who hated her, but she met Hadrian’s gaze and found understanding there. He nodded gently.
Maybe she could explain.
Maybe they’d help for the sake of the greater good.
Maybe her apology would make the difference.
She took the pen, hesitated, then wrote something she’d never expected to confess.
I’m afraid.
Hadrian smiled with that alluring confidence and reclaimed the pen, his fingers brushing over hers.
It’s only sensible. But I’ll have your back.
He winked at her, as cocky as ever, and Rania found herself smiling. Maybe she could do it. It certainly was worth a try. She nodded and Hadrian caught her close, rewarding her with a kiss that had the Pyr protesting that they weren’t paying attention.
But they were.
And they had to find a djinn to help.
Hadrian was so proud of Rania that he thought he might burst. It couldn’t be easy to face the crowd at Bones, given her past, but she took them both to New York in a flash. Once the decision was made, she didn’t hesitate or try to avoid a hard task. He respected that she was so unflinching.
It was late in Manhattan and the sky was dark overhead. Hadrian couldn’t see the stars because of the ambient light of the city. He was surprised, as always, by the noise level. He could hear cars honking on the closest avenue and the sound of traffic, buses rumbled and hissed, the subway growled deep beneath her feet, making the concrete vibrate. There were voices in the distance and the persistent throb of dance music. A door slammed and dogs barked, something clanged in an alley and a cat howled at a distance.
The door to Bones was steel and not the most welcoming entrance Hadrian had ever seen. Rania regarded it with obvious trepidation and he dropped his hand to the back of her waist. “We should go in,” he said and she smiled up at him, her uncertainty clear. He would have done this for her, if it had been possible, but she had to make the appeal.
“Are the Others there already?” she asked, obviously confident that his keen senses would reveal the truth to him.
Hadrian nodded. “All of them. It’s time.”
“And the other Pyr?”
“Some of them. He narrowed his eyes and knew he shimmered blue a bit as he assessed the situation. “Drake, Theo, Arach, Rhys, Niall. Hey, Sloane is here, too.” He smiled at her. “The Apothecary of the Pyr,” he explained.
“I hate groveling,” she muttered and Hadrian chuckled.
“Then don’t. Just apologize.” Hadrian put his arm around her and leaned closer. “Everyone makes mistakes. And a lot of those here have been cursed on enchanted against their will. What’s going to count is your sincerity.”
“I am sincere.”
“I know. And they will, too.”
She exhaled, obviously uncertain. “If you say so.”
“Trust me.”
/> That prompted her smile. “I do.”
Hadrian gripped the handle and opened the door. A waft of scent and smoke assaulted them both. He smelled roasted meat and barbeque sauce, fat in a deep fryer, the press of human bodies, cigarette smoke and beer.
A woman dressed in black turned to face them and blocked their passage. Her eyes were cold. She looked between them but didn’t move. “We’re closed.”
“I’m Hadrian MacEwan and this is Rania Hingston. We requested an audience at the meeting of the Others.” Hadrian stepped into the bar and let the door close behind them.
The woman’s eyes narrowed.
Rania held up her wrist to display Maeve’s red cord. “It’s time to break free.”
“No one’s going to help you here,” the hostess said with hostility.
“We’ll see about that.” Hadrian led Rania right past the medusa hostess.
He felt everyone in the bar survey their progress, and heard the whispers of speculation. He was aware that he shimmered blue, on the cusp of change, ready to defend his mate.
“Trust a dragon to bring a Fae assassin into our midst,” muttered a heavy-set guy and there were nods from the group.
“Dragons always have to run the show,” agreed another.
“Dragons are unafraid to mix it up,” countered Theo. He was standing on the far side of the bar, with the rest of the Pyr in attendance. Hadrian headed toward them but Rania stopped beside the bar.
“I’ve got this,” she murmured to him and he felt a surge of pride. “Go to the Pyr.”
He looked into her eyes for a moment, wishing her all the luck in the world, then nodded and strode to sit with his fellow dragon shifters. They clapped him on the back, moving to include him but making sure they all had space to shift in case his mate needed their help.
Hadrian had a feeling she wouldn’t.
The bar was crowded with Others of all kinds. Hadrian couldn’t even identify all of them. He’d heard about Wynter Olson, the leader of the mates of the Alaskan wolf shifters and readily identified her both by her proximity to Arach and the golden glow of the firestorm between them. He wished his buddy luck with that. There were bear shifters, and he recognized Caleb, the alpha of the Manhattan wolf shifters, as well as a number of Others from the Circus of Wonders. Mel was at the bar with Murray, pulling beers and pouring shooters. He was aware of the red string on Mel’s wrist and the way Theo avidly watched her. Sylvia was sitting at the bar alone and kept glancing over her shoulder. Hadrian wondered whether she even knew that Sebastian had left town. There were noticeable absences, too, a hint of the damage Maeve had caused.
That had to count in Rania’s favor.
She turned in place, surveying the crowd and probably choosing her words. Conversation ceased gradually as she just stood there, an icy beauty with cool eyes.
When they were silent, she spoke.
“I’m Rania Hingston, the swan-maiden assassin cursed by the Dark Queen to do her will. I’ve come to suggest an alliance and to ask for some help.”
Murray pointed to the red cord on her wrist. “You’re still in her power. I don’t like you being here at all.”
Rania gestured to Mel. “She has a red cord, too.”
“Let her talk,” Mel said and Murray nodded with obvious reluctance.
Rania took a deep breath. “I have served the Dark Queen for over a thousand years. I was her assassin, but not by my own choice. I was my mother’s thirteenth child, although I was orphaned as an infant. My twelve older brothers were turned into swans against their will and flew away once our parents were dead. I knew nothing of this until I had grown up in Fae, reliant upon the Dark Queen herself. She might have been my mother. She acted as if she was. She offered me a wager one day: that if I assassinated thirteen victims for her, she would free my brothers from their curse and release me from her service. I didn’t know that she’d already turned my heart to ice, so I was unable to feel empathy or compassion. Still, my first attempted kill went badly and I nearly died myself. As a result, she gave me the ability to grant the kiss of death thirteen times and the ability to spontaneously manifest elsewhere. She made me a stealthy killer because that suited her purposes.”
There was a whisper in the ranks of the Others, and Hadrian knew they were aware of that weapon.
Rania continued. “I used twelve of those kisses, as many of you know, but the thirteenth didn’t proceed as planned. The Dark Queen demanded one of the Pyr, and I chose Hadrian, only to have a firestorm spark between us. That firestorm thawed the ice that had encased my heart, but it didn’t matter: I’d already given him that final kiss.”
“He’s not dead,” Caleb noted when Rania paused.
“Not nearly,” Hadrian said, standing up. That caused a number of agitated whispers.
“That was where the plan went wrong. Hadrian fought off the kiss of death, which meant I had to attack him instead. He’s not very easy to kill.” There was a reluctant chuckle at that. She turned to look at him, her eyes glowing. “That trait and the firestorm meant I got to know him. His power as an ice dragon meant that the sliver of ice in my heart melted and I began to heal. By the time the Dark Queen broke her bargain with me, tricking me into eternal service by killing Hadrian herself, I knew I’d never be free of her.”
“You could stop doing her will.”
“I could, but she threatened to roast and eat my brothers if I don’t comply. She holds three of them captive now and I hope they’re all still alive.”
There was a gasp of horror at this.
Rania shook her head. “Instead, I want to change the rules. I want to invade Fae and break my brothers free. I want to turn the tables on the Dark Queen, allied with Hadrian, and I need your help to do that.”
A protest rose immediately, but Rania held up her hand for silence. She addressed Caleb. “You’re right that dragons change the rules. You should know that Hadrian, because he’s an ice dragon, not only had the power to thaw my heart but he can melt and destroy the Fae blades that allow them to move between realms.” She paused, then continued. “He even melted the replacement splinter of ice that Maeve sent for me. She thinks it’s in my heart.”
A murmur of excitement passed through the room, and Hadrian knew he wasn’t the only one who believed this could contribute to their success.
“But any Other who enters Fae could be killed,” Murray protested. “We all know we’re on her list.”
“But what about those who are allied with us who aren’t Others?” the bartender asked. She gestured to the group of women seated with Arach and Wynter Olson. “What about mates?”
A woman in that group, one with long dark hair and two young sons, stood up. “We would need to know the risks,” she said and her companions nodded. “We would need to know the plan, and we would need to know that we could trust whoever led us.” She gestured to Rania and spoke coldly. “I saw your kiss of death once. It was effective, I’ll give you that.”
“It is the Dark Queen’s tool and it is relentless,” Rania acknowledged. “It worked twelve times, but not the thirteenth, and now no one has the power to give it again except the Dark Queen herself.”
There was chatter at that, then Murray called for order. “So, what’s the plan?” he demanded. “And what do you want us to do?”
The vampires appeared then, stepping out of the shadows as if they’d always been there. Hadrian knew they hadn’t been. Micah led them, carrying something shrouded in a dark cloth. He placed it on the bar and retreated. Hadrian guessed it was Sebastian’s Fae sword and kept his distance. He didn’t want it to melt before they used it. Sylvia watched intently as if she knew what it was, as well, and a faint silver glow came through the cloth.
“You want to know the plan. It’s fairly simple.” Rania nodded briskly. “Hadrian is going to invade the armory and melt the Fae stock of weapons. I’m going to pretend to still be on the Dark Queen’s side, and take a volunteer from the Pyr to her, supposedly to be slaughtered in
front of her. Actually, we’ll be creating a distraction, both for Hadrian and for another volunteer who will steal the gem of the hoard.”
Pandemonium erupted then, protests coming from all sides about the strength of the Fae defenses of their treasury, the extent of Maeve’s malice and the potential price of willingly entering the realm of Fae. There were comments about the untrustworthiness of a known assassin and accusations of manipulation. Rania stood in silence, her head high, and listened. When the furor died a bit, she produced the bichuwa and set it on the bar.
Silence ensued.
“Djinns make the best thieves,” she said quietly, then pivoted to look at the two tables they occupied. At least four djinns turned immediately to smoke to avoid being chosen. “We are talking about taking down the Dark Queen forever.”
The tension in the bar could have been cut with a knife. Rania had thrown down one of her challenges and Hadrian hoped someone would take it. He was aware of all the sidelong glances and the uncertainty, then a dark-haired woman stepped forward. She seemed to walk out of a ribbon of smoke, becoming more substantial with every step she took. Her eyes were dark and her gaze was hard. She was slender, moving with the stealth and elegance of a great cat. She stopped in front of Rania and put out her hand.
“My uncle,” she said.
“Yes.” Rania spun the blade so that the hilt was toward the djinn and bowed her head. “I’m sorry.”
“You thought you had no choice,” the djinn said. “I think maybe you didn’t, not the way the odds were stacked against you, and even if it was a choice, there is honor in defending your own.” She took the blade, smiling down at it as it caught the light. “He had this made.”
“It’s beautiful, lethal and beautiful.”
Dragon's Mate: A DragonFate Novel (The DragonFate Novels Book 4) Page 28
