Fate of Dragons Read online

  Still, if she truly has information, it would be foolish for me to pass up an opportunity to learn more about what I am.

  And since no promises have been made… why the hell not?

  “What is the dragon vessel?” I ask. “I mean, really?”

  “Well, the short answer is it’s you,” she says with an elegant shrug. “But the deeper answer that you probably want is this—the vessel is the person who possesses the magic of the dragon gods. According to lore, they were stripped of their power centuries ago. No one remembers how or why, if it was taken or willingly given, but the story goes that whoever is worthy will wield their power as a living god.”

  “Jesus,” I mutter, a little blindsided. “No pressure.”

  “Right?” She shudders. “If that’s true, I don’t even know how your body can handle all that energy. It would dissolve most people into dust.”

  I wrinkle my nose at the image. “Thanks for that little visual.”

  “Sorry, I’m morbid.” She grins cheerily once more. “Anyway, that’s just the story. Truthfully? No one knows what the vessel really is, or what it means for you to even exist. None of us were expecting an old legend to ever come true.”

  “Is there anything else to the story?” I ask, trying to sound disinterested, like I’m not desperate to get any clue possible to better understand my strange new abilities.

  “Officially, no.” Harper briefly cranes her neck to look around us, as if she wants to share something that no one else should hear.

  I follow suit, only to find Drew hidden deep in the forest. He hides behind a tree, only part of his head visible. Still intently watching, he gives me a knowing nod as our eyes meet.

  Harper doesn’t seem to notice him and leans in to me. “Unofficially, there have been rumors that you’re currently in what’s called the fusion state. It means the power hasn’t formally fused with your body, and once it does, there will be no way to remove it.”

  “You mean, someone could remove it now?”

  The thought sends cold dread clear to my toes, and I can’t help the way my body tenses with concern at the thought of someone ripping this magic from me.

  I’ll gut the poor fool who tries.

  “Again, I’m not really sure,” Harper admits.

  Cautiously, I examine her face, looking for the tells of a lie. But she’s entirely relaxed, entirely at ease, her eyes slightly out of focus as she loses herself in thought.

  She told me the truth.

  I relax ever so slightly, grateful she’s not trying to swindle me with this. I already have so many enemies—I really didn’t want another.

  I don’t trust her, of course, but I also find it hard to hate her.

  She’s—well, kind of adorable.

  “I will say this,” Harper adds softly. “There are rumors that a few of the families have access to something that might be able to steal your magic.” She looks at me with deep concern in her eyes, the smile gone, replaced by a deadly serious expression. “The Andusk and Bane are after you for that sole purpose, guaranteed, and I believe the Darringtons might be as well. The Vaer hate you, too, but I think you already know that.”

  I frown, already somewhat familiar with each of those dragon families. The Andusk tried to attack me already, and I figure those vain and materialistic dragons want me for the fame and notoriety I would bring them. They would parade me around like a jewel.

  I’ve run into the Bane dragons before, and I despise them. They’re petty crooks who view laws as guidelines that hold other people back. For them, it’s all about seeing what they can get away with, what they can steal, and who they can swindle.

  But the Darrington dragons—I suppressed a shudder. They were not to be messed with. As the eldest and most powerful family, angering them is largely considered to be a death wish. Zurie rarely sent us into Darrington territory, and when she did, it was only when she could guarantee one hell of a payout.

  “I’m no fool,” Harper says, interrupting my thoughts. “And unlike Jace, I won’t bother telling you what to do. But for your own safety, try to stay out of trouble, at least until the fusion period ends.”

  “And that is?”

  “The first time you shift.” She sighs, her soft blue gaze drifting toward the ground. “If you ever do, of course.”

  I frown, not a fan of all the unknowns in this scenario.

  Harper scoffs. “And, of course, there’s this meeting the other Bosses all want to have. Like you don’t have enough on your plate.”

  “It seems stupid,” I admit.

  And, given the danger Irena is in, this little meeting is pretty low on my list of priorities.

  “Yes and no.” Harper shrugs. “Leaving the embassy puts you in danger, but there’s one of you and seven of us. Well, six—the Vaer aren’t and never will be invited. They’ve broken too many peace treaties in the past, and none of us honor their word. They won’t be there. But the rest of us, well…” She sighs. “No one will do anything stupid if it means five other dragon Bosses declaring war against them for taking you.”

  “It will be good to know who I’m up against,” I admit.

  To meet them. To see how they hold themselves. To see how their soldiers obey them.

  It will tell me so very much—and even though part of me is hesitant to go, the adventurous assassin in me wants to know everything about the dragons who so desperately want me sequestered away in their Capitals.

  Besides, I’ve been feeling so cooped up here. I want to get out. Stretch my legs.

  “Look, we can’t make you go,” Harper says. “I mean, I’m sure Jace will try, because he’s a hardheaded idiot sometimes, but we can’t really make you. I would suggest you at least consider what he has to say. He’s smart, if misguided. When he gets an idea in his head, he can occasionally do the wrong thing for the right reason. And as much as I sometimes want to smack him, he really does have a good heart.”

  I chuckle. “I guess so.”

  Deep down, I like this woman. She’s smart, capable, and there’s more to her than meets the eye.

  But I have to remember who she is.

  What she is.

  Harper Fairfax is one of the most powerful dragons in the world. The Bosses have to be strong, and to keep her title, Harper has most likely defended it with blood and battle, just like Jace did with Guy Durand.

  Even though she seems casual and approachable, so much of dragon politics is a lie. A sleight of hand, nothing more than a misdirection meant to disarm and undermine opponents.

  No matter how charming Harper is, I intend to keep my guard up. She might be able to get Jace to tell her things, but she won’t get anything from me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It isn’t long before Harper has to leave, and I have to confess I’m kind of grateful. Being around a dragon Boss for hours left my nerves frayed, as I was constantly looking for any indication that she was playing me.

  As I briskly walk through the halls of the embassy, headed down a familiar path that ends in the roof of the spire I’ve grown attached to, I catch glimpses of a black military chopper in the main courtyard far below. A familiar blonde figure pauses at the door, briefly looking back toward the embassy—in the vague direction of my room—before climbing in.

  I grit my teeth, feeling like there’s more to what Harper knows about me. I don’t like it one bit.

  Much to my surprise, the flip phone in my pocket vibrates, interrupting my thoughts.

  I study the screen, and the antiquated caller ID shows Ian’s name.

  It looks like our little game of chicken has ended. Time to see what he wants.

  Without saying a word, I flip open the phone and set it against my ear.

  “I’m disappointed,” Ian says with an exaggerated sigh.

  For a moment, I hesitate and allow the silence to settle between us. To flush him out.

  To test him.

  The muffled creak of leather filters through the connection. “Rory, there
’s a reason I gave you this phone. I know I’m not on speaker. Let’s kill the theatrics, shall we?”

  “Oh, I’m theatrical?” I bark out a harsh laugh.

  “Day four, and no sign of you.” He adjusts in his seat, and I can practically hear the tension in his voice. “Did you stop playing?”

  “No,” I admit, my voice light and relaxed. “You should know better than that, Ian.”

  “Ah, yes,” he says, chuckling. “Did you like that? Have you figured out who I am yet?”

  “Why? Eager for a bit of brief fame?”

  “How delightful,” he says, and I can hear the grin in his voice again now that he realizes the game is still afoot. “The claws come out.”

  I pause, wondering just what I can goad him into admitting.

  “Irena’s not faring well today,” he says before I can say anything. “It would be a shame if we had to cut things short simply because I have no more bait.”

  “How lazy,” I say, trying not to let my anger filter into my voice. “If she were dead, you wouldn’t tell me that.”

  “Wouldn’t I?”

  Interesting. He’s trying to trip me up and make me second-guess myself. He wants to get under my skin and make me doubt the deductions I glean from each of our interactions.

  It won’t work.

  “Tick tock, Rory dear,” he says in a chilling tone.

  With that, the line goes dead.

  I grit my teeth, angry that I barely got a word in—but I suppose that was the idea. Rile me up. Ruffle my fears. Hurry along the game.

  With a deep and frustrated sigh, I close my eyes and wait until I’m centered. Calm.

  As much as I hate the idea, I just have to be patient.

  This is part of the game. If I call him now, I’ll look too eager. Too willing to play. If I call him, it has to be with something significant—something to string him along.

  Every conversation is another chess piece moved across the board, and it has to be done with strategy.

  I glance out the window to find the chopper still there, Harper peeking out an open door as she speaks with one of the embassy guards.

  A bit of peace and quiet would be lovely right now, and I’ve grown rather fond of the roof of the tallest tower.

  As I reach the window and climb out onto the shingles, I pause when I notice the man sitting silently on the shingles. He reclines with his back to me, utterly comfortable, his massive and muscular body blocking most of my view of the forest beyond.

  “Hey, Rory,” Drew calls over his shoulder, not bothering to look back.

  I smirk. “Have I become predictable already?”

  “A little,” he admits, finally tilting his head enough that I can see the playful grin on his face.

  “I’m impressed,” I admit, sitting next to him. “Neither Jace nor Harper saw you out there.”

  “I’m quiet when I want to be.”

  “Not enough to hide from me,” I point out.

  “Maybe I wanted you to see me.”

  I tilt my head, not bothering to hide the annoyed expression on my face. “That’s cute.”

  He chuckles.

  “Thanks for the phone,” I say, scanning the horizon out of habit.

  “Did the guy call?”

  I nod. “You know any Vaer named Ian?”

  “About twelve of them.” Drew snorts sarcastically. “It’s not exactly a unique name.”

  “Yeah, well this guy certainly acts like he’s important.” I pause, absently biting my lip as I think it over. “He has power. Money. Influence. How many shifters named Ian are high up in the ranks?”

  Drew hesitates. “Are we sure he’s even a shifter?”

  I pause, debating inwardly. “I believe so. The Vaer aren’t fond of anyone outside their circles, and they’re not always loyal even to each other. Whoever this Ian guy is, I doubt he’s human. They wouldn’t trust a human with someone as important as Irena.”

  “Maybe,” Drew says ominously.

  “You disagree?”

  “It’s a risk, that’s all.” He shrugs. “Be careful not to assume.”

  “Fair.” I nod. “Still, if you can find anyone named Ian in the upper echelon of Vaer society, it would be a lead.”

  I tense, aching for something to go on already.

  We’re running out of time.

  For a moment, we sit in silence, watching the sun set on the horizon. The wind kicks up, rustling the trees, reminding us that up here in the sky, we can have a moment of chilly silence. Below us, the helicopter blades spin faster, the chopper finally lifting into the sky.

  “I see why you like it up here,” he says.

  “Helps me think,” I confess. “But since you’re here, I guess we can talk.”

  He shrugs. “I like the quiet.”

  “Maybe, but there are some things you need to tell me.”

  “Oh?” He laughs, giving me a brief once-over, charmingly astonished as always that I would dare demand something of him.

  “You know her,” I say with a nod toward the helicopter as it finally takes off.

  The chopper’s tinted windows are too far away for me to make out expressions or detail, but the vague outline of a face watches us as it flies off in the opposite direction.

  “I know of her,” Drew corrects.

  I shake my head, not satisfied. “When she joined us in the forest, I saw that look of recognition on your face.” I stare him down, daring him to lie to me. “You know her.”

  He holds my gaze, never one to back down, and for a moment it looks like he’s not going to answer me.

  I frown, not bothering to mask the deep aggravation I feel with this man.

  “Fine,” he mutters, looking off. “Yes, we’ve met. Briefly.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. I don’t trust her. I don’t trust any of them.” He gestures toward the embassy, seemingly referring to everyone in the dojo with one sweeping brush of his arm.

  “How have you had the opportunity to even meet her?” I watch his face, studying every line, looking for any indication of a lie. “When did it happen?”

  “Why are you so interested?” he asks, clearly irritated.

  “Call it a hunch,” I say dryly.

  Something in my tone seems to catch his attention, and he tilts his head toward me, watching me just as intently as I watch him. “What do you think I am, exactly?”

  “Annoying,” I admit. “Frustrating.”

  Drew laughs and looks off into the distance, going silent once more. Just like that, he thinks he’s diffused the tension and gotten off the hook.

  He hasn’t, but I wonder if there’s any point in pursuing the topic. The more he avoids the truth, the less I trust him.

  My heart twists at the thought, and I look away.

  “What’s so awful that you don’t want me to know, Drew?” I ask quietly, a bit of my wounded heart seeping through into the question. My voice is softer than I intended, a little more sincere and curious than I wanted it to be.

  He opens his mouth to answer but pauses as his gaze lands on me. His jaw clamps shut, and he sighs, rubbing his eyes as he no doubt tries to find the words.

  “The world outside of the embassy is not the one you see in here,” he says. “Titles matter. Hierarchy matters. Class matters. Money matters.”

  “So?”

  “So, I’ve done terrible things,” he admits, looking at his hands. “Out of obligation. Out of loyalty to the family that raised me. To keep my title.”

  “Hmm. So, you do have a title.”

  “Don’t play dumb,” he says with a wry grin. “You know I have authority out there. You already pieced together the clues I gave you, and you probably picked up on some I didn’t mean to give.”

  Yep.

  But I’m not going to tell him that.

  “Look,” I say, absently picking at a loose thread on my pants to distract myself. “It sounds like we’ve both been in terrible positions where we had no choice but to
act against our moral fiber. If anyone understands, it’s me. What I don’t understand is why you think hiding so much from me will make me trust you.” I catch his eye, trying to drive home my point. “Drew, the more you hide from me, the less likely I am to listen to you.”

  “I know,” he admits softly. Stoically.

  With those two little words, he betrays so much.

  The tortured way his jaw tenses, like he wants to say more but physically can’t. The way he leans in, like he wants to pull me close. The way his eyes drift to my lips, to my neck, to my chest.

  He abruptly clears his throat and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “This came for you. Jace was going to hide it from you, too, so I stole it.”

  I pluck the note from Drew’s hands, only to find familiar writing on the page—with a picture of my ghostly pale sister shoved between the folds.

  Tick, tock.

  “I’ll kill this asshole,” I mutter, crumpling the paper in my hands.

  “I’ll help.” Drew sets a hand on my thigh, and a soothing warmth seeps from him into me. My heart stutters at his touch, and as much as I hate to admit it, his comforting presence makes me feel a little bit better.

  As dusk rolls over the dojo, a foreboding sense of finality settles into my shoulders. Soon, I’m going to learn the truth about Drew—and when I expose the skeletons in his closet, I wonder if I’ll still feel this way.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As the night ticks on, I’m getting more and more concerned.

  Levi isn’t back yet.

  I pace the courtyard where he usually sleeps as the stars glitter in the night sky above. It’s close to midnight, and I haven’t seen him all day.

  That’s unusual, even for him.

  I’m getting antsy. Truth be told, these past few days have been almost too much for me—too much of the politics, too much of the law, too much of a reminder of the world out there that’s salivating for a chance to hunt me down.

  To pin me.

  To trap me.

  To drain away the magic that’s mine.

  Part of me wonders if this intuitive concern is just me aching for an adventure, for some adrenaline, for a trip beyond the walls. The confines of Jace’s dojo have begun to feel a little like a prison, and though I can technically leave, I wonder how long that will be the case.