Authors: Colleen Gleason
Emerson prayed this Lena woman was not the one who’d done this to him.
“Dammit, Ember,” Bryan said. “I want you out of there. Now. You can come to me, or I’ll find you. You need to get away from them. I should’ve listened to you in the beginning. I’m sorry.”
Just the fact that he was offering to help meant so much. “No need to apologize. I kind of sprung the whole Bloodkin thing on you. If I need help, I’ll call you, I promise. How’s Sadie?”
Matthew opened the car door for her and she got inside. Thane revved the engine and she shook her head at him.
No speeding
.
“She’s settled,” Bryan said. “Getting the five-star treatment because of you.”
“Least I could do.” At least some things were falling into place. “I want to visit her as soon as this business is finished.”
“I’ll go with you. We can get the pack together again.”
“Sounds perfect.” It was everything she’d hoped for. Her family. “I’ve got to go.”
“I’m texting you my address, just in case.”
“I’ll keep you posted.”
“Ember, be careful.”
“You, too,” she said and ended the call. Then she frowned. She’d been so focused on her situation that she’d forgotten to ask him about his Alpha and how they were getting along.
Next call, definitely
.
Thane flipped a tight U-turn and headed down his long driveway, spitting dust and gravel behind them.
Emerson scowled as she grabbed for her seat belt.
A toothy smile spread across his face. “
Ember
is it?”
“You could hear that?” Was there any privacy among the Bloodkin?
“The dragon hears all.”
Hers didn’t. At least not yet. “Good to know. Mental note: no calls in front of Thane.”
“I got what I wanted, anyway.”
“And that is?”
“A name that suits you.
Ember
. It’s perfect. The spark of the dragon is there, within you. All you have to do is blow.”
Thane’s automobile skimmed over the miles, but this time he didn’t try for a memory of low, smooth dragon flight. He kept the speed under ninety and was rewarded by Ember—yes, that was her name to him now—relaxing back into her seat.
She’d done something to straighten her hair this morning, which he still didn’t understand, and she’d selected a blouse in a deep, Emmerich red, which he did. She had her pick of jewelry—the finest the world had to offer—but she wore only small gold clips on her earlobes and a thin gold chain hanging from her neck.
Yesterday they’d talked for a long time, sitting there surrounded by his hoard, and eventually Matthew had descended carrying large floor pillows. Trays of food had come later. Wine, too. Thane hadn’t even minded when Ember had invited Matthew to join them.
“Aren’t you lonely?” she’d asked Matthew. “Don’t you want your own life?”
“I have everything I could want: a long life
and
a family. My great-great-grandson just graduated from Harvard Law last week.” Matthew had grinned proudly. “I follow the lives of fifty-three of my descendants and have helped out here and there when they have gotten into trouble. I love social media because I get more access than I’ve ever had before.”
“Social media,” Thane had said. Those words made no sense together.
Emerson had ignored him. “Do they know who you are?”
“Not really,” Matthew had answered shrugging. “A wealthy relative. I’m vague on the connection.”
“Do you plan on getting any of them involved with the Bloodkin?” she’d asked. “Is that allowed?”
Matthew had inclined his head to think about the question. “Allowed, yes, but not everyone is suited to the life.”
“I don’t think I’m suited to it.”
“Say that again in a hundred years, my lady,” Matthew had answered. “I think you’ll have changed your mind.”
Thane had disagreed. “It won’t take a hundred years. You’ll change your mind after you’ve flown in the sky for the first time.”
How he envied her. His dragon might be content with Emerson’s company, but Thane wouldn’t be able to chance shifting again, flying again, until he went to Havyn. And now he had no idea when that might be. He’d have to satisfy himself by watching Ember take to the night sky and indulge in the joy
she
found. Not long ago, he’d have found such a thing intolerable, but now…he looked forward to it. He could give up flight if he could have her laughter for his own.
He merged onto the highway heading to the mountains, and it twisted before him like a graphite scribble on the world.
Beside him, Ember heaved a huge sigh. “I’m so freaking tired and wired at the same time.”
“Wired,” he repeated. He really had to catch up on the jargon of her generation.
“Zapping with energy, old man,” she said. “Not necessarily a good thing. I’m having trouble sleeping lately.”
Too much death
, he thought. She needed to get all this behind her, and then she would rest more easily.
“What does the Night Song sound like?” she asked.
Or maybe not death. Something else
.
“Sound is only part of it,” he said. It was dangerous to contemplate the Song with the yearning still just beneath his skin, but he wouldn’t hoard information from her. “The Night Song is the cacophony of all living things, the silence of darkness, the glow of the sun reflected on the moon, and the chorus of the stars. It is the caress of air and the shimmer of heat, an altogether bonfire of sensation.”
“So much feeling,” she said, “that it’s impossibly hot, right? I feel like I’m going to explode.”
“Your dragon is stretching inside you. Looking out. Wanting more.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “I don’t think sleeping pills help with that.”
No. Sex did, but since he was still being patient—
damn Matthew
—he wouldn’t suggest it. Yet. Soon, though.
“After we complete our business with Lena,” he said, “you might consider attempting a shift.”
A line formed between her brows. “So…is the first shift usually done alone, or does another Bloodkin show a beginner how it’s done?”
He chose his words carefully so as not to hurt her feelings. “It’s usually a family event.”
Event
didn’t do justice to the private celebration that was more extravagant and exclusive than a wedding. Only the closest and most important kin were in attendance. Expensive gifts were brought, the young drak—male or female—feted in style. And upon the third night of feasting, everyone gathered and shifted together.
She’d gone quiet, so he tried to fill in the gaps where her kin should be. “You’d want your Wolfkin foster brother present, I imagine?”
She blinked. Her eyebrows went up, and she smiled. “Oh. Yes. I guess so. I’ve seen him shift a few times, so I guess it’s fair.”
Thane didn’t like that she’d witnessed such an intimate thing, but the wolf had stood by her, so he set it aside.
“And Matthew would be honored,” he said. “He’s quite taken with you.”
She grinned. “I like him, too. Okay.”
Thane caught her looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
“I hope you’ll be there,” she said.
“Of course. I’m hosting the party,” he said. The Herreras would not be invited. They’d kept her Emmerich heritage from her for too long. And the Heolstor brothers might wish to come, but he couldn’t tolerate one of them flying with her.
Mine
.
He knew just what to gift her, too. Something without price. Something dear.
“You’d do that for me?” Her eyes were full of feeling. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
“You should have so much more.” He couldn’t help that his voice came out in a low rasp. Truth sometimes forced its way into words. His dragon wanted to curl around her and keep her close, striking at anyone who dared come near.
After a moment, she leaned over toward him, and pressed her cool lips to his cheek.
A shudder of desire rolled through him—not sexual, not here or now, on the brink of a confrontation with Lena, but certainly one of anticipation.
She wiggled a little in her seat and rested her head against the window. Only when she was breathing deeply did he look at her.
Ember
. The name fit so well. She was the last ember of her bloodline, a white-hot jewel hidden in the ashes of time.
She slept as he drove, her eyes moving behind her lids, her dragon at peace.
***
Just as he had a few days ago, he stopped his car in front of Lena’s stronghold in the mountains. The place was silent, as if deserted. The sequoias were still. No birds called to one another. Even the dust kicked up by the wheels of his automobile seemed loath to swirl and settle.
“Looks like no one’s home.” Ember opened her car door, but he put a hand on her arm to stop her from getting out until he was by her side. He appreciated her modern independence, but today he was going back to the old ways.
“Oh, she’s home,” he said. And waiting. All these years, Lena had to have known that sooner or later he would come for her. What could’ve possibly transpired between the sisters that she’d not only taken Carreen’s life, but Rinc’s, as well?
Thane strode around the car to Ember’s door with calm determination. He gave her his hand to help her to her feet…and keep her behind him.
“This doesn’t feel right,” she said, following him up the front steps.
“No, it does not.” The place felt too aware.
When they reached the front doors, he didn’t bang on them—if they were going to be opened for him, her staff would have done so already. The latch gave easily in his grip, and he pushed one of the doors open.
The sharp metallic scent of blood wafted outside in a billow of escaping air.
“Oh God,” Ember said behind him. She must’ve scented it, too.
Spilled blood. Again
. What did the violence here mean? Had Ransom Heolstor beat him to vengeance?
“Thane?” Ember gently pulled back on his arm as if to keep him from entering. “This feels like a trap.”
“We do not retreat,” he said. “We are dragons.”
“I thought dragons were supposed to be
smart
.”
“It’s smart to kill our enemies when the chance presents itself. And besides, the answers we seek are inside.”
Thane entered cautiously, the scent of blood thickening until his lungs felt coated in it. A pall of death shrouded the house. He’d known that his family’s remains would mean war among the Bloodkin, and it seemed that the Orvyn stronghold had been the first to fall. Lena’s allies would most certainly strike back at whoever had attacked here today.
“Lena?” he called.
The silence was broken by a distant intake of breath, followed by a cracked whisper. “Godric.” The voice could only be referring to Godric Tredan of the Triad.
What had he to do with anything?
Thane pulled Ember close. Two steps into the manse, and the air whistled so high only a dragon could hear it. Thane was already turning, pushing Ember out of the way as a Drachentöter darted toward him. It missed his chest, but the weapon pierced his shoulder above his heart. The barbs sprang from its shaft, burying the steel inside him. The starry burst of pain blacked his mind for a moment, but the dragon within could see everything clearly.
Another assassin. The dragon hadn’t heard a heartbeat, so this one had to be dead already.
Thane trained his pain-blinded gaze high to his right. Braced preternaturally in the corner of the ceiling, his assailant’s normally gray skin was rosy from feeding, his eyes gone demon bright. His heart did not, could not, move in his chest.
Vampire
.
***
“Find Lena,” Thane commanded in a growl.
Emerson hesitated. His indigo eyes were lustrous with intensity, the ridges of his forehead becoming more pronounced as his skin tone deepened. But there was a spear piercing his shoulder—it had to hurt—and some kind of spidery-looking man on the ceiling. Another assassin?
The freak launched himself toward Thane, who ripped the spear from his body and swung it just in time to connect its shaft to the creature’s belly. The assassin flew back on impact, slamming into a grand piano, his nails scraping across the black lid and then coming to a sudden stop. With a leap, he crouched weirdly on the wall, as if gravity had no hold on him, ready to pounce again.
A dangerous purr rolled up Thane’s throat as his shoulders rolled forward. He glanced over his shoulder, and Emerson staggered back. “Find her for Rinc,” he said.
Right
. They’d come to get answers from Lena. And if Thane was…occupied, getting them was left to Emerson.
She backed down the entry, no idea where to look, then listened to a darkness moving inside her, urging her toward blood. Strange and frightening sensations beat at her skin, erotic heat and primal glee, as she sought the heart of the violence. Some part of her was feral, too. She couldn’t deny it now.
The body of a man—a servant, Emerson guessed—was sprawled in the hallway, a sharp weapon still in his grasp while he swam in a pool of red.
“It wa…” the voice whispered again from deep within the house. “Godric.”
Emerson didn’t know who Godric was, but she had a feeling she and Thane would be visiting him next. Anyone whose name began with
God
was bound to have issues.
She edged around the puddle of blood and headed in the direction of the voice. Thane roared from the front of the house, and a huge crash shook the walls, dust misting down from a crystal teardrop light fixture into the air.
Yet another body—a young woman in a service uniform—blocked a short hallway into what Emerson guessed was the kitchen, so she went around the other way, through an enormous sunny dining room with a long table surrounded by at least twenty chairs. There she found a huge sunroom at the back of the house, with an open door leading to the outer lawns.
Pinned to a wall with one of those spiky spears through her chest was a beautiful woman with auburn hair, jewel-gold eyes, and a crown of knobby bone under the skin on her forehead. Her arms were slack, the inside of her lips coated red. She’d apparently tried to run but hadn’t gotten far.
Emerson rushed to her. “Lena Orvyn?”