Fate of Dragons Page 12

  I guess he didn’t hear it. Huh. We’ll need to work on his senses next, then.

  Our eyes meet briefly, and I strain to hear anything else from the landing at the top of the stairs. If we have company, that probably means trouble.

  Yep—another shuffle. Another step. Multiple pairs of boots, by the sound of it. But no chatter, no rustle of clothes, nothing else.

  Several people are lying in wait for us to return.

  It must be Jace.

  Damn it.

  Deep in my core, I feel the familiar pull toward the thunderbird who runs this dojo. The feeling is fuzzy and vague, like looking through a dirty window to see someone’s silhouette instead of their face—but the sensation is there, all the same.

  Silently, I run my hand through my hair, deeply frustrated—Jace noticed I left after all.

  The only way back to our rooms is through those doors. I checked. The wall outside the rooms doesn’t have enough handholds to scale and climb through a window.

  I bite my lip, debating my options, and I get a wickedly mischievous little idea.

  I grin.

  Tucker raises one very confused eyebrow, and I imagine he has absolutely no idea what’s happening right now. I chuckle quietly and gesture for him to come with me—only this time, I take the stairs more slowly, like I have nowhere to be and nothing to do.

  Tucker follows suit, and I have to say, I’m grateful for the way he just goes with the flow. It makes things so much easier.

  “Gorgeous night, though,” I say, as if we’re in the middle of a conversation.

  “Sure, but didn’t all those dragons seem like overkill?” Tucker smirks, briefly looking at the top of the stairs, no doubt beginning to catch on to what we’re doing. “I wonder if Jace ever lets them sleep. What a slave driver.”

  We round the bend to find Jace facing us, blocking the way to our doors. Arms crossed, he frowns at us, eyes narrowed with knowing and judgment. A dozen of his guards stand at attention behind him, watching us with equally grim expressions.

  “Speak of the devil!” Tucker says cheerily. “What’s the occasion? If they’re making a grocery run, get me some jelly beans.”

  “Can it, Tucker,” Jace snaps, his eyes shifting to me. “You left the facility.”

  “I went on a walk,” I correct him, one hand on my hips. “Through the building.”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  “Don’t make accusations when you have no proof,” I snap back.

  Behind him, one of his guards turns away, trying and failing to hide a knowing smile.

  Good. That’s all the proof I need—Jace is trying to get me to confess. He has nothing.

  Jace rubs his neck and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Rory, I’m trying to keep you safe, but you keep resisting me. It’s just making this harder.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie. “After all, who would dare disobey the great Jace Goodwin?”

  With a mischievous smirk, I pat his arm, ignoring the tendril of desire I get from touching him. Totally at ease, I walk around him and head toward my door. The guards step aside for me as Tucker follows, and before long, we’re at the doors to our individual rooms.

  “Night, Tucker!” I shout obnoxiously from my door as he walks into his room.

  “Night, babe!” he shouts back, emphasizing the pet name just to piss Jace off.

  Jace Goodwin can try all he likes to control me. It’s just going to make it funnier when he fails.

  Chapter Fifteen

  With Jace’s hands on my waist, it’s so damn hard to concentrate.

  And, with only four days left to save Irena, I absolutely have to focus.

  The day after my romp through the forest with Tucker, I aim into the abyss, into the swirling mist that disguises the seemingly endless fall into the canyon below. With Jace’s firm grip on my body, I feel the bond we share kicking up a flurry of lust and longing within me.

  Feelings I would very much like to ignore.

  “Good,” he says softly in my ear, his deep voice driving me wild. “Just like that. Focus.”

  Today’s training is designed to strengthen the connection I share with the magic growing within me. We’ve been at this for over six hours, trying to create a controlled blast. One I command, from start to finish.

  Just one.

  With an uneasy breath, I close my eyes and dip into the burning energy at my core. It sparks and fizzles, frustrated from a day of ups and downs and uncontrolled surges.

  But as I touch it, as I feel into it, the frustration ebbs. It calms ever so slightly, and I feel myself naturally relax into it. Feel into it.

  Just one, I beg of it.

  Heat rushes through my arms, clear down to my fingertips. I feel the light surge within me once again, responding to my request. It fills me, sizzling through every muscle, every vein, until my body hums.

  With light.

  With heat.

  With raw power.

  And there, very faintly in the middle of it all, I hear a pulse. A heartbeat, one that isn’t my own.

  I smile.

  My eyes snap open, the magic aching to be freed, and I aim at a boulder in the void. It’s a massive rock, possibly the size of a car, and it juts out from the canyon above the mists.

  The tension builds in my arms, my wrists straining from the sheer force of power that I’m barely holding back.

  “Release,” Jace commands. “Now.”

  I comply.

  A surge of white light bursts from me, cutting through the air. It hits the boulder like a missile, shattering the rock into shards and dust. The ruins crumble into the abyss, falling toward the sea below, leaving small gaps in the fog as it slices through the thick, white clouds.

  My power recedes, pulling into my core once again, leaving my muscles weak and weary. I manage to stay on my feet, and though my body screams for rest, I soldier through the fatigue.

  After every uncontrolled episode, I find myself a little stronger—but with this being my first truly controlled one, I’m surprised to find that my body is even more resilient than usual. With a short break, I could easily be at this once again.

  “Yes!” Jace says excitedly, releasing his grip on my waist to pump his fist in the air. “Amazing! Holy shit, you did it!”

  “You sound surprised,” I say with a weak grin, slurring a little from my exhaustion.

  He wraps his arms around my shoulders and swings me, celebrating my victory.

  I grin, caught off guard by the man’s excitement. “Since when do you laugh?”

  “Since you achieved in one day a technique that takes years to perfect,” he answers. He chuckles and sets me down, grinning at me as his eyes scan my face. “How do you feel?”

  “Surprisingly okay,” I admit, eyeing the abyss. “That felt almost easy.”

  He grins and crosses his arms. “Well, don’t get cocky. There’s a lot of work left for us to do.”

  “Right, cockiness is your thing.” I jokingly set my palm on my forehead. “How could I forget?”

  He laughs, shaking his head. “You should be nicer to me, you know.”

  “Oh?” I playfully lift one eyebrow.

  “Definitely.” Slowly, he saunters toward me, closing the gap between us as our mysterious mate-bond connection takes hold of me once more.

  My smile falters as my body naturally leans into him, aching for him as it always does, longing for him to hold me close—it takes everything in me to suppress the urges, but they’re becoming harder and harder to ignore.

  When he’s barely an inch away, he leans in, his hungry eyes wandering over my face, my neck, my lips. If he planned on following up on his original comment with more witty banter, he seems to have forgotten what he wanted to say.

  Tenderly, he sets his fingertips against my jaw, cradling my face as though he’s afraid I’ll break. His skin is rough and warm, igniting blips of desire within me. I fight the urge to close my eyes, and I swallow the soft lit
tle moan that so desperately wants to escape me at his touch.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” a woman says from nearby.

  I nearly jump out of my skin, disgusted with myself for not hearing her approach. Out of instinct, my hand goes to my waist, toward the dagger that’s not there. Since Jace likes to throw me around in our sessions, and I don’t want to accidentally stab myself, I left it on a log nearby.

  A woman about my age, maybe just a few years old, leans against a nearby tree, dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans. Her soft blonde hair cascades around her face and neck, her skin like porcelain. She watches me with sharp blue eyes—eyes that are focused, clear, and give me the impression she’s seen just about everything, and nothing fazes her anymore.

  “Boss?” Jace asks breathlessly, either not bothering to or outright unable to mask his surprise. “When did—”

  With a charming smile, she shakes her head and clicks her tongue in mock disappointment. “Don’t use my title, Jace. Not here.”

  That snaps the master of the dojo out of his bewilderment, and he abruptly clears his throat. “Right. Rory, this is Harper. Harper, Rory.”

  “A pleasure,” the blonde says with a regal nod.

  “Same,” I say curtly, not entirely meaning it.

  Cautiously, I glance between her and Jace, not entirely sure what the hell just happened.

  Jace is a man of authority. Law. The rules of the embassy run his life, and he almost never lets anything shake him. Ever. And yet, he was so caught off guard by this woman showing up that he actually broke one.

  Jace broke a rule.

  The thought is baffling.

  But more mysterious than that is the fact that I’m currently in the presence of the Fairfax Boss—and I can kind of understand why he was so thrown off-guard.

  Someone new—and very, very important—arrived in his dojo without him knowing.

  Jace sets a protective arm over my shoulder, though he looks at the Boss. “When did you get here?”

  “Just now.” Harper nods back toward the dojo. “They told me to wait in the dojo, but you know how fidgety I get.”

  He chuckles, relaxing a little. “I think there are drug addicts who can sit still longer than you.”

  She laughs, her face lighting up at the jibe.

  I squeeze my hand into a fist, not altogether comfortable with the sudden appearance of a dragon Boss. She seems harmless enough, relaxed and at ease.

  But those eyes—I know a warrior when I see one.

  This Harper woman may look calm and approachable, may laugh and joke and play, but my intuition tells me this is a commander who knows her way around a gun and a battleground.

  And I’m not taking any chances.

  “Rory, it really is a delight.” Harper shifts her gaze to me, that charmingly warm smile still on her face. She reaches out and shakes my hand, setting her other palm on the top of our joined hands as if to drive home the sincerity of her words.

  I nod, not really one for formalities.

  In my peripheral vision, I notice the barest hint of movement. The gentle shuffle of a boot over the dirt. A rustle of fabric. I briefly shift my gaze, hunting for the source of the sound, but neither Jace nor Harper seem to notice.

  There, in the depths of the woods, is Drew. Yet again, he’s watching—and I suddenly wonder how often he’s slipped my notice.

  Hmm.

  He leans against a tree, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in suspicion as he stares at Harper. Shoulders tense, jaw clenched, it’s clear he recognizes her and isn’t too fond of the fact that she’s here.

  Interesting.

  “Would you like to go for a short walk?” Harper asks me. “I would love to pick your brain.”

  “About what?” I raise one eyebrow in curiosity, a tad surprised at her honesty. Most others would ask to take a walk under the guise of “getting to know each other” or “just enjoying the day.”

  Points for Harper, then. I admire someone who doesn’t try to lie to me.

  Jace lets out an annoyed little groan and crosses his arms. “Harper, you’re really breaking protocol here.”

  “Oh, hush.” She playfully waves away the thought. “Let me have a little fun, just this once.” She shifts those big blue eyes at him. “Pretty please?”

  Now, this is just weird.

  I know Jace is in charge of the embassy, but I just heard his own Boss ask him for permission.

  No wonder he gets so pissed when I ignore his orders.

  He sighs, apparently giving in. I expect him to just give her the go-ahead, but he turns to me. “Are you okay with this?”

  I tilt my head in surprise.

  Huh.

  “Sure.” I’m not really worried. This is still embassy ground, and so much of dragon culture depends on the laws of their neutral zones.

  Besides, if she gives me any nonsense or threatens me, I’ll just hurt her. Maybe throw her into the abyss and see what happens.

  I don’t care if she’s the Boss.

  “Fine, then,” Jace mutters, grinning. “But Harper, you owe me an extra shipment of that espresso I like. We haven’t gotten any in ages.”

  “A brutal negotiator, this one.” Harper nods toward Jace and rolls her eyes.

  “I’ll be close,” Jace says quietly, his hand on my shoulder in reassurance. “If you need anything.”

  I nod, and that’s apparently good enough for him. He quickly grabs my dagger off the log and gives me a knowing look before walking off, back toward the embassy.

  Ugh. No weapons around the Boss, I guess.

  Bummer.

  Harper weaves her arm around mine, like we’re old friends going for a walk through the woods. She begins to lead me on the same path Jace just took, walking at a slower pace as she takes in the sunlight glittering through gaps in the canopy above.

  Ahead of us, Jace walks at a brisk pace. As he rounds a bend in the path, he briefly looks back at me with a reassuring nod before disappearing into the trees.

  In the heavy silence that follows, I wait. I’m not afraid of the quiet.

  “Hope I didn’t scare you,” Harper says with a smile. “Nobody likes to be snuck up on, especially when they’re training. Sorry about that.”

  “I’m surprised you were able to,” I admit.

  She shrugs. “You were distracted by the mate-bond, I’m guessing. It does weird things to us. Based on the way you move, though, I figure I wouldn’t be able to in most situations.”

  I smirk. No, probably not. But my mistake is still unforgivable, and I won’t make it again.

  “He’s such a hardass,” Harper says with a nod down the path after Jace. “Always has been.”

  “How long have you known him?”

  “Forever, feels like.” Harper shrugs. “We grew up together in the Capital. He always swore he would never find a mate, didn’t care for it, what have you.” She looks me briefly up and down. “In some ways, I feel bad for you—he can be such a pain in the ass.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. If anyone can understand, it’s Harper. The way he relaxed when he saw her, the way he teased her—it would make sense that they grew up together.

  “He’s your brother, then?” I ask.

  “Cousin, but might as well be a brother.” She grins. “An annoying, overbearing, overprotective little brother.”

  My smile falters.

  “He means well,” Harper adds softly, watching my face. “He really does. It’s just—he’s been here so long that he doesn’t really know how to be anything but the master of the dojo.”

  I give her a playful smirk. “Did he bring you here to put in a good word for him?”

  She laughs. “Nah. I’ve wanted to meet you since I first heard about you, Rory, but he made me wait. And wait. And waaaaaait.” She grins. “To think, the dragon vessel taking refuge in my own embassy? And I couldn’t even go meet her? It was agonizing, but I get it. He wanted you to feel comfortable first. For him to keep me away is really saying something�
��he loves that he can boss me around here, making up for all the shit I give him back home in the Capital.”

  I chuckle. These two remind me of my lifetime with Irena—the banter, the teasing, the unspoken affection.

  Harper leans in. “Between you and me, whenever we’re not here, I make him call me Boss instead of my name. Just to screw with him. That’s why he slipped up—old habits.”

  I smile, admittedly charmed by her, but I’m left wondering what she really wants. Why she’s really here. She said herself that she wanted to pick my brain, but it sounds like she knows everything already.

  My name. Who I am. What I am. Why I’m here.

  And she probably knows because Jace told her.

  The thought alone wipes the lingering smile from my face, and I’m left with a sickening sensation in my chest. This all feels a little like treason, for a man who says he wants to protect me to give all this sensitive data to one of the most powerful dragons in the world.

  Because at the end of the day, she’s still the Fairfax Boss. She’s still a leader, and she rules one of the dragon families who stand to gain quite a lot if I ally with them.

  Briefly, I wonder if he’s told her about my previous life as a Spectre—because if he has, that would be the ultimate betrayal.

  I would never, ever forgive him.

  “What is it you want to know?” I ask, not bothering to mask the chilly tone in my voice. “It seems like you already know everything about me.”

  Her smile briefly falters, but to my surprise, she looks more apologetic than offended. “Rory, this must all be overwhelming.”

  I shrug. “I can handle it.”

  “Clearly,” she says, her grip tightening ever so slightly around my arm. “I’m surprised. Most women would shatter if they were in your shoes. They would be in their rooms, sobbing.”

  “I’m not most women,” I admit.

  She grins. “Neither am I.”

  “I figured.”

  “How about this?” She resumes her cheery demeanor. “I won’t ask you anything for now. We can deal with that later, if you still want to. For now, you ask me questions. What can I tell you?”

  I frown, wondering if this is a game. After all, the Palarne Boss offered me a similar deal—come with me, and I’ll tell you everything.