Dragon's Lover [Part Three] Read online

  “All three prisoners are down here, thanks to our men,” he told Lumen. “Not sure you’ll manage to get any information out of them, though.”

  “Let me at them,” said Aegis, cracking his knuckles. “I’ll do my best.”

  Kliev opened the door and let the shifters pass through, following closely behind them. Before a minute had passed, they came upon the adjacent cells where the Forsaken were being held.

  Lumen stood back to watch Aegis pace like a lion in front of the barred doors. Inside each was a pale Forsaken staring out at them, drained utterly of colour and no doubt in serious need of sustenance. They really were wretched creatures when they hadn’t fed. Of course when they had, they were fast as lightning, vicious and stronger even than most shifters. All the more reason to keep them off the streets and behind bars.

  “I’m here for one reason only,” Aegis growled, addressing the prisoners. One of them was new to his eyes, a tall, red-haired bastard whose eyes were so light as to be almost white. In the cell next to his was the blond man who’d attempted to take the Relic from him in the courtyard at St. Dunstan’s. As Aegis passed by his cell, he lunged at the Dragon shifter in a blur of motion, gnashing razor-sharp teeth. He might have managed to seem threatening if not for the very thick iron bars getting in his way.

  Aegis stood before them, linking his fingers together behind his back. Right, then. Time to get the bastards talking. “I want you to tell me who your leader is and where he resides. Where has he taken Ashlyn Raleigh?”

  Silence and blank stares met him as he fought back the feral rage building up inside his Dragon.

  “We can’t tell you,” said Damien, the man they’d caught at the warehouse. His voice was withering and shrill, the sound of a man not entirely in control of his faculties. “We can never tell you, or he will kill us all. He doesn’t even care that I’m his son. Doesn’t care a whit.”

  The hairs rose on the back of Aegis’s neck at the recollection of what Damien was: a hybrid Dragon shifter/blood-seeker cross. An abomination, a betrayal of their kind. And he’d just admitted that Ashlyn’s captor was his goddamned father, which made Aegis hate the bastard even more, if it was possible.

  “Well,” he growled, “as I see it, you have a choice. Die by Daddy’s hand sometime in the near future, or die by burning in Dragon fire here and now. You call it.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” Damien retreated into the shadows of his cell, the whites of his eyes still faintly visible in the dark.

  Aegis narrowed his own eyes, the look of a Dragon shifter’s sheer loathing brightening his irises. “I would, and more. But rest assured that I’d first pull your organs out through your throat, traitor. Then I’d burn you inch by inch, to ensure that you felt every anguished bit of flesh melt away. And if you think I don’t have it in me, I’d suggest you just push me a little further.”

  “His name is Mardoc. He lives in the north, near Hadrian’s Wall,” the red-haired man shot out, stepping forward. His hands wrapped tensely around the bars, a panic-stricken look on his tense features. “There’s an old castle up there, they say, long abandoned, but he’s recently renovated it and moved in. I’m not entirely sure where it is; we don’t interact with him. He’s not the most sociable…creature.”

  Aegis stepped towards the man and looked him in the eye. Something about him looked parched, tired, as if the day’s ordeal had taken a lot out of him. Whatever the case, the man was clearly hoping to have his life spared. Good. A desperate man was almost always a useful ally.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Ragnar.”

  “Tell me, Ragnar, how did a Dragon shifter come to lord over the Forsaken? Your kind are powerful and proud. I fail to understand how you’ve become minions like the Lapsed who serve you. It seems to me that you’ve become as pathetic as they are.”

  The man’s eyes went to the floor as though shame was weakening his will to meet the Dragon shifter’s eyes. “You think we’re powerful, but the truth is that we’re not always so strong,” he said. Damien made a hissing sound as if trying to silence Ragnar, who persisted nonetheless. “We are powerful when we’ve fed, but we’re entirely reliant on a supply of human blood. If we don’t get it we fade, and fast. Mardoc is persuasive, to say the least. He told us that he will help us, that he’ll supply us with what we need. He said he would assist us in freeing ourselves from the shackles of our blood-seeker ancestors.”

  “I don’t know how he can do such a thing. It seems to me that you’re right screwed,” Aegis told him. “Unless this Mardoc character runs a blood bank, he can’t get away with murdering enough humans to keep the Forsaken happy.”

  “He can,” Damien croaked, letting out a strange, nervous laugh. “And he has. We’ve all killed when we needed to. It’s what we do. It’s who we are.”

  “Not quite,” Lumen interjected, stepping forward, his bright eyes flashing authority and dominance. “I wouldn’t say you’ve gotten away with much of anything. You are, after all, in a prison cell deep in Dragon territory.”

  “Perhaps it’s true,” Ragnar said. “But the leader says he has a plan, and all we have is the hope that he will come through for us. Without him we will fade to nothingness, and we know it. We would be no better than the Lapsed after the madness set in permanently.”

  Aegis stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. For the first time he almost pitied the Forsaken for their fate, but Ragnar’s words weren’t quite enough to render him wholly sympathetic. Surely the fuckers could control their own destinies; they could draw themselves away from the ugly sickness that their genes had imposed on them. “The Enlightened don’t consume human blood, but they share your genes,” he told Ragnar. “It was your choice to…”

  Ragnar didn’t wait for him to finish. “It’s not always in our hands; not for those of us who’ve been conditioned towards dependency. If you feed a baby small amounts of an addictive substance he’ll grow addicted.” He gestured towards the other men’s cells. “Many of us are the product of an environment that bred us for war. We were turned into blood junkies deliberately, cruelly and callously. Hate us if you will, but we didn’t all come into this willingly. We are at the mercy of our bloodlines and our need. It is a need greater than any that you’ve ever encountered.”

  Not so, thought Aegis. You can’t need anything more than I need Ashlyn. There’s no greater need in the world.

  “Get over it,” snarled Lumen, who’d had enough. “Anyone can kick the habit, for fuck’s sake. Even a junkie can be detoxed.”

  Ragnar stepped back, shaking his head. “There’s no detoxing, no slow withdrawal into wholeness and happiness. Only an unrelenting desire, a call to our minds by the very blood that runs through our veins. If you keep us imprisoned here we will suffer it for an eternity. But it won’t kill us. That’s the worst of it, you see. It only weakens us to the point of madness. So if you want to, kill me. Kill all of us. It’ll be less wretched than a fate of infinite starvation.”

  “Shut your mouth,” yelled Damien from behind his own set of bars. “Some of us are perfectly content.”

  “Then you’re fools,” Ragnar hissed.

  Lumen spoke again, his tone more measured this time. “Ragnar, we’re not cruel. Well, not usually. No one is out to torture you, and if you cooperate with the Guild we’ll see to it that you get some help when all is said and done. Even if you did try and turn my friend her into a refreshing cocktail earlier.”

  “Thank you,” the Forsaken replied quietly.

  “Aegis, let’s head out,” the Alpha said before turning to the one Guild member who’d remained silent. “Kliev, see to it that these men are fed. Bribe a blood bank if you must, and give them a little of what they crave. We’ll decide what to do with them later.”

  Kliev nodded as he watched the other two walk away. When they’d shut the door to the cell block behind them, Aegis turned to Lumen.

  “We need to head north,” he said. “I have to find her.”

/>   “We need more information about Mardoc’s whereabouts, Aegis. Heading north isn’t enough; we need to know where she might be.”

  “So what the hell are we going to do?”

  “As I see it, we have only one option,” Lumen replied. “There’s one ally who has friends in every corner of England.”

  “You’re talking about Amara. The Enlightened.”

  Lumen nodded. “Perhaps she can give us the information that we need. Let’s hope, anyhow.”

  “Perhaps is better than nothing,” said Aegis, turning on his heel to make his way towards the long passage that would take him out of their underground lair.

  Dinner with a Stranger

  When Mardoc opened the door to Ashlyn’s room, relief flooded her insides. She’d expected a dank, cell-like chamber, but this place was a sprawling, bright retreat worthy of royalty. A large set of double windows at one end overlooked the hilly vista outside rather than the grim courtyard at the back of the house. That was something, at least.

  The massive bed looked as though it had seen several centuries, and must have weighed two tons. It was made of solid wood, its headboard carved with a crest that featured two dragons’ heads facing one another, plumes of carved wood smoke emerging from their nostrils. On the wall on either side of the bed were two large paintings, one of which seemed to be a portrait of Mardoc himself.

  Ashlyn wandered over and examined it. So strange. The date on its brass plate said that it had been completed in 1589. She knew that shifters lived long lives, but the number was still mind-blowing.

  “This painting,” she said, turning back to him, “is it you?”

  “Yes, it is,” he said, offering her the smile that had charmed her in the courtyard of St. Dunstan’s. For whatever reason, it failed utterly to work its magic now. “Well, when I was somewhat younger.”

  “You’re very…”

  “Old, yes,” he laughed, but she thought she sensed irritation lurking behind his eyes. “I’ve been around to see a good deal, Ashlyn.”

  “Yes, I suppose you have,” she replied, hiding another shudder.

  “I’ve fought in wars between Dragons and…others,” he continued, his tone betraying a dark pride. “Wars that our side should have won every time. My life has been devoted to ensuring the ongoing dominance of our kind.”

  “I see,” said Ashlyn, an icy finger drawing a line down her back. She didn’t want to hear any more about it. Dragon shifters killed; she knew that. But Mardoc was revelling in the idea of taking over the world, and the thought made her blood run cold. “I…I’m sorry, but would you mind if I took a little nap? I’m quite tired after the flight.”

  “Of course,” he said, clamping his jaw shut and staring at her for a moment as though he were still trying to figure her out. Perhaps he was trying to read her mind, but he was failing again. Ever since they’d arrived at this place, in fact, his mind games seemed to have ceased. Perhaps he was trying to see if he could find a way to charm her without mental contortion; to see if they could get along without nefarious tactics. Whatever the reason, she was grateful not to have to fight her emotions for a little at least.

  “I’ll send someone for you when dinner is ready,” he added, turning to walk towards the door. “Make yourself at home in the meantime.”

  “I will. Thank you,” Ashlyn said, grateful to be granted the time to think.

  Her strange host left, shutting the large door behind him. When she’d heard him make his way down the hall away from her, Ashlyn darted over to the window to peer out.

  How far a leap would it be to get to the ground if she chose to escape?

  Shit.

  Way too far.

  Everything inside her was telling her to run, to get away. The only thing she knew was that this would never be her home. Not today, not in a year, not ever.

  But there was no escaping this wretched place, and even if there was, there was no Aegis to run to. Ashlyn’s lover had surrendered her to this strange, horrible, man. He’d put duty above love, and let her suffer the consequences while he walked away with a clean conscience, knowing he’d done right by his Guild.

  Ashlyn was alone in the world, a feeling of hollowness growing inside her that she’d never felt before; not even when she’d lost her adoptive parents. That had broken her heart, but not her spirit.

  She trudged over to the bed and pulled her boots off. Her Dragon bone blade still sat tucked inside one of them, so she pushed them under the bed to conceal its hilt. She may yet need her weapon.

  Now that she’d lost her shield.

  * * *

  Ashlyn lay in bed for a few hours, unable to sleep while her mind raced in circles, trying in vain to sort out how she could free herself from this horrid place. She had no idea what time it was; only that the sky had already gone dark when a hard knock sounded at the door.

  “Come in,” she called, swinging her legs over the bed’s edge. A strange, pale woman with light green eyes and brown hair pushed the door open and walked in.

  “He’ll see you now,” she said in a monotonous drawl far too reminiscent of the tone Ashlyn’s own voice had taken on when Mardoc had seized control of her mind.

  “Okay,” she replied as she rose to her feet. “Um, where is he?”

  “The dining room, downstairs.” With that nebulous bit of information, the woman left.

  As Ashlyn made her way through the long hallway towards the staircase, she began to sense distinctly that she’d become trapped inside a twisted Beauty and the Beast story. The difference was that this beast would only grow uglier with time, and the chance of falling in love with him was in the negative digits. Strange servants, winding corridors. She was a prisoner in the beast’s home, and the worst part was that she’d not only come to his place willingly, but ridden on his freaking back to get here.

  She still couldn’t figure out how he’d managed it. Had he genuinely seduced her mind, or was it that she was so grief-stricken at the thought of losing Aegis that she hadn’t been thinking straight?

  Either way, all Ashlyn knew for sure was that she’d been a weak-minded idiot, if only temporarily.

  She wound her way down the winding set of stairs to their base where interlocking marble tiles guided her towards a set of double doors down the hall. The aroma of some savoury meal pulled her forward, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in hours.

  Pushing the left door open, she poked her head in, searching apprehensively for her undesirable host. Mardoc, it turned out, was standing at one end of a long dining table. A welcoming fire roared in a hearth at the opposite end of the room, whose walls were drenched in a sea of rich red. Velvet curtains lined tall windows, casting a general aura of heavy darkness about the space.

  “Ah, Ashlyn,” Mardoc said, stepping quickly towards her, “how are you feeling, now that you’ve rested?”

  “Fine,” she said, though the word was a concise lie. “I’m still a little tired. I didn’t really sleep.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it. Of course you can go back to bed anytime you like.” Mardoc flashed her one of his trademark smiles. He should have looked as handsome now as he had the first moment they’d met, but what had seemed so charming and alluring a few hours earlier had morphed into a frightening and grim persona. “Listen, I thought we could have a little chat over dinner.”

  “Sure,” she said, stepping towards a chair as he pulled it out for her. She sat down, her spine tense as wrought iron. “What did you want to talk about?”

  He pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the table and locked eyes on her own. “About us, of course.”

  “Us.” There is no us. But how the hell do I tell you that?

  “Our relationship, our future, our everything.”

  Ashlyn forced herself to issue a withering smile, reminding herself that she was supposed to find this man charming and delightful. If she let him know just how repulsive she’d come to find him, the repercussions might be severe. The man had a very large mon
ster inside him, ready to burst out if someone messed with his human side.

  “Our future. Yes, of course,” she said.

  “I know that you’ll need some time—not only to get to know me, but to adjust to this environment.”

  Ashlyn nodded. Not that time would ever help her to forget Aegis, at least not without Mardoc’s wicked ways. She was beginning to understand his tactics, and she would fight him tooth and nail if he tried his tricks on her again.

  Her host continued, seemingly undisturbed by her silence. “I just want you to know that my mind is already made up.”

  “About what?” she asked as a pallid man entered the room, carrying a tray of some sort of steaming dish of food. He heaped a serving of what looked like beef stew onto each of their plates, and Ashlyn scooped a forkful into her mouth, grateful for the sustenance.

  “About you. About us. I’d heard, of course, that you are graced with the mark of Fire, but never did it occur to me how alluring you’d be. I was hesitant at first, of course, but you are certainly a beautiful woman.”

  Gee, I’m so flattered, you crazy bastard. “Um, thank you?”

  “When we have children—”

  “Wait, what?”

  Mardoc let out a laugh that made Ashlyn’s blood turn frosty. “I’m sorry. There I go, getting ahead of myself. We can talk about that later. Let’s just say that I look forward to getting to know you better.” With that, he reached for a bottle of red wine and poured a glass for Ashlyn and then himself. He lifted his own and she mirrored the action, playing along for the time being, much as it made her want to dry heave.

  “To us,” he said.

  Ashlyn forced out another weak smile, unable or unwilling to utter the words herself. The more time she spent in Mardoc’s presence, the more she wondered if he was even in the Dragon’s Guild. He was the polar opposite of Aegis, who was warm, funny, and kind. This man was like a cold CEO whose sole goal was to procreate with the woman of his choice. There was no romance to him, no humanity. No kindness, even, for all his efforts at sincere charm.