Hidden Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon Book 7) Page 12

  “It tears me apart when you’re in danger. Do you know what it was like to wait on that beach while you battled those sprites last night? It felt like a million bees buzzing in my head, stinging and crawling until I thought my skull might crack from the pressure. Every cell in my body is charged with one simple command that overrides every rational thought when you’re in danger. ‘Save her! Protect her.’”

  She pulled away from him. “Would it kill you to acknowledge my contributions to our mission? Even Sabrina said thank you. I clung to the words of a vampire I hardly know because you, the person I call my family, did not so much as acknowledge my work. I am the one who accomplished the first phase of our mission. I got the orb.” She pointed her thumb at her chest.

  “Thank you!” he bit out. “Is that what you want to hear? Thank you for risking your life for a fucking magic ball—”

  She pressed her finger into his chest. “You need me on this mission, Sylas. I can do things none of you can do. And yes, I need your protection. But you need me too. And that means you need to trust me. You need to respect me. And you need to stop treating me like a child.”

  “I never—”

  “You’re smothering me! Just back off!” Goddess, she wished she could take it back. The words lashed out, and his previously red face blanched. He rubbed his chest as if it hurt. She’d gone too far. She’d broken his heart.

  “I understand.” His voice was laced with contempt. “I’ll do my best not to smother you anymore.” He passed her to get to the beach and dug in his pack for, she assumed, a change of clothes. For someone whose blood naturally ran hot, the breeze she felt coming from his direction was decidedly cold.

  “Sylas…” She didn’t know what to say.

  When a dragon mated, he mated for life. The bond was both biology and magic. He couldn’t break it if he tried. But as her husband dressed and donned his pack without ever looking back in her direction, she wondered if she was about to learn how far a bond could stretch.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The hike toward the Palace of Nightfall was an exercise in tedium. Sylas schooled himself in restraint, refusing to even look at Dianthe. Although it went against every instinct in his dragon body, he realized it was what she needed. It was what she’d asked for. In a roundabout way, it came from a place of love.

  Smothered, she’d said. It was a harsh insult to a dragon. There were stories of his kind losing their minds and keeping their loved ones prisoner in their treasure room. Smothered was a way of saying he’d crossed the line into obsession. She’d accused him of killing her with his protective instinct. He scowled. He was still trying to figure out how she was both hiking through a dark forest in the vampire kingdom and being smothered.

  But fine, if that’s how she felt, he’d give her space. And if that space came with the sharp edge of his anger, well, nobody was perfect.

  He was relieved not to have encountered any more hornworms and to recognize some landmarks from his last visit to Nochtbend. They were close to the Palace of Nightfall, which was a good thing considering the suns were setting. Soon the vampires would awaken, and he would much rather be inside Nightfall’s gates, speaking directly to Master Demidicus about their mission, than out here, potentially fighting off the unwanted attention of hungry vampires in a dark wood.

  They reached the mouth of the cave entrance just as Sabrina yawned and stretched in her mate’s arms. Another pang of jealousy hit Sylas squarely in the heart as the two kissed and exchanged good mornings. Dianthe might be right behind him, but she felt miles away at the moment. Her scent rubbed like sandpaper against his senses. Normally enjoyable, now it simply left his insides raw.

  “Nightfall is through here,” he said. “There will be guardians at the entrance. Hold very still and allow them to smell you. If you remain calm, we won’t have a problem getting inside.”

  “What kind of guardians?” Sabrina asked. “We use humans in our coven. Tobias told me there are no humans here.”

  “Hellhounds,” Sylas said. “It is said they were a gift from Hades himself to the first of their kind.”

  Tobias scratched his head. “I’ve never seen a hellhound. They sound positively unpleasant.”

  “Think of them like magical wards. They are trained to keep out those with malicious intentions. We don’t have any. We simply want their help and cooperation. Keep a positive mindset and they won’t hurt you.”

  “Can they hurt us?” Tobias asked.

  It was a good question. “I haven’t tested the rumor, but the vampires claim the hellhound’s bite is poisonous to all but vampires.”

  Sabrina chuckled. “So if this goes badly, I’m carrying you all out of here. Got it.”

  “Positive thoughts. Simple enough,” Dianthe mumbled.

  Funny. After their fight today, thinking positively seemed a particularly difficult task.

  As Sylas stepped into the dark mouth of the cave, he thought it was a great metaphor for what was happening in their relationship. Their future was just as dark and uncertain. When he’d stopped to talk to her in the lake, he’d expected they’d exchange apologies and move on. But what she’d said to him was not something an “I’m sorry” could fix.

  Smothered. His mind circled back to what she’d said. The word played on repeat in his head; he couldn’t seem to move beyond it. She, whom he was leading into a dark, forbidding cave, felt smothered.

  He still wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Nothing about the past few days made him feel he had earned that label. For the Mountain’s sake, should he have let her be swallowed by the hornworm?

  His reverie was interrupted when the low, menacing growl of a hellhound filled the cave. By the light of Dianthe’s glow, he saw the darkness melt into the shape of a dark dog with prominent teeth and long, lean muscles that gave it a sickly and gaunt physique. The things always looked hungry. What they ate, he had no idea, but by the glare in their red eyes, he’d always assumed it must be souls.

  “Good doggy,” Tobias whispered beside him.

  The hellhound sniffed his hand and then the general area of his torso.

  Behind him, Dianthe said nothing, but her scent and light shifted. She’d moved from his right to stand between him and Tobias. Clearly she was afraid. He was tempted to take her hand but forced himself to leave it right where it was. Their relationship would never heal if he didn’t honor her request to be trusted with her own safety.

  “I’m jealous,” Sabrina said. He hadn’t seen her move ahead of them, but she was already deep inside the cave, scratching a hellhound behind the ears. “They’re the perfect guardians. Do you think I could buy one to bring back to Chicago with me?”

  Tobias winced. “Absolutely not.”

  “Oh, but they’re so cute.” She made a kissy sound, and the hound licked her face. “I think this one is still a baby. He’s smaller.”

  Sylas moved past the hound to the iron portcullis at the back of the cave and pulled a ribbon hanging against the wall. A bell inside rang, and a vampire appeared on the other side of the metal. Ruthgard, thankfully a member of the Defenders of the Goddess.

  “Sylas. I never thought we’d see you back here. Last I heard, you were rotting in the dungeons of Paragon.”

  “Pleasure to see you again, Ruthgard. Lucky break. I was cleared of all charges and freed. My friends and I need to speak with Master Demidicus. It’s important.”

  Ruthgard glanced over his shoulder and then back at Sylas. “I don’t believe for a second that Eleanor let you go.” He chuckled. “Fugitive or not, you know I want to help you, but no one gets to the master without going through Zaruki.”

  “Then let us speak to Zaruki.” Sylas cracked his neck. Zaruki’s loyalties were questionable. Like the master, she wasn’t a member of the rebellion but also wasn’t enamored with the empress. If she had any loyalty at all, it was to Nochtbend.

  “Wait here.” Ruthgard left so quickly all Sylas could track was a blur.

  “W
ho’s Zaruki?” Tobias asked.

  Sabrina picked at something under her nail. “That would be the master’s right-hand man. Likely a deadly killer who would just as soon rip us apart as have a little chat. Mine can smell trouble a mile away.”

  Sylas chuckled. “She’s female, but other than that, you are exactly right.”

  Tobias nudged his arm. “Should we be disguising ourselves?”

  Sylas shook his head. “Won’t work here. You can’t hide the scent of dragon blood in a room full of vampires.”

  “I can attest to that,” Sabrina concurred.

  “Being dragons is one thing, but do they have to know we’re the heirs?”

  “The master will know. He’s been around since before we were children. Trust me, Tobias, he’ll know, no matter how we look on the outside. Lucky for us, there is no love lost between Nochtbend and Paragon. They have two members on the Highborn Court who are sympathetic with Eleanor, but they do not live here in the palace. Demidicus can’t abide their company. With any luck, we won’t encounter them.”

  Tobias ran a hand over his face. “With any luck.”

  The blur was back. “Zaruki will see you now. Follow me,” The portcullis lifted, and Sylas followed Ruthgard inside. The rough-hewn walls gradually gave way to more sophisticated surroundings: warm wood floors, walls covered in art, gold fixtures. Strange music played softly in the background, piped in through camouflaged speakers.

  “Here we are.” Ruthgard opened a door and gestured into a room with a long gathering table.

  At the head of the table, Zaruki waited. She did not smile as they filed into the room, just watched them with an intense, unblinking stare. Zaruki had always reminded Sylas of a cat. Her long crimson nails were filed to sharp points like claws, and her narrow, dark brown eyes had the natural slope of a feline’s. If there was one word to describe her, it would be narrow. Every part of her was exceptionally long, from her legs that stretched the full height of the table, to her arms that reminded him of tree branches, to her abnormally lengthy neck that supported an oval head with a pointed chin and a ponytail of platinum hair. Under a thick fringe of bangs, her complexion was always pale. He’d never seen it pink from anger, exertion, or embarrassment. He didn’t think she was capable of it.

  Once the four of them were in the room and had taken positions around the table, Sylas bowed halfway as was the custom among the vampires. He knew better than to extend his hand. “Thank you for seeing us.”

  “I received word that someone killed a full-grown hornworm overday in Grimtwist. I assume that was you.” She scowled her disapproval.

  Sylas skirted the issue—after all, she hadn’t directly asked a question. “We’ve come to speak to Master Demidicus about Paragon’s recent attack on Everfield. We have reason to believe it was the first but definitely not the last. Your kingdom is likely the next in her crosshairs.”

  “As much as I am sympathetic to your plight as exiled heir, I think your assessment of the situation is biased by your history with Paragon. Representatives Armand and Viessa claim that Everfield broke the universal law. They were harboring a fugitive from Paragon. Paragon was within its rights to retaliate.” Her gaze fell on Sylas. Did she know that he was said fugitive?

  Dianthe snapped, “And apprehending this fugitive requires burning the Empyrean Wood to the ground? Killing innocent fairy elders and children? Forcing an entire community into homelessness?”

  Sylas wished she hadn’t poured so much emotion into her words. The vampires were rarely moved by emotional pleas but loved to use their adversaries’ triggers against them.

  As expected, Zaruki’s face remained impassive. “While I am sure certain fairies found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time, I am told that the Elder Tree still stands, as does the solarium. Clearly the destruction of Everfield was not as complete as you are suggesting.”

  Dianthe gritted her teeth. “The homes of Everfield’s Highborn Court representatives were untouched. The very citizens who should defend Everfield against Paragon once again find themselves in a position where they’ve experienced no loss, have no skin in the game, and can easily turn their back on the hundreds of innocent fairies unfairly left in squalor.”

  Oh fuck. Sylas attempted to smooth things over. “What we are trying to say—”

  “Nochtbend cannot become involved in a disagreement between Everfield and Paragon. I will have someone show you out.” Zaruki moved dismissively toward the door.

  Sabrina blocked her path, her red hair seeming to grow brighter in the intensity of the moment. Her fangs descended with impressive control. “You will take us to your master.”

  “Who are you, vampire?” Zaruki stared, unblinking, at Sabrina.

  The redhead did not smile or bow but raised her chin in order to stare down her nose at the other woman. “I am Sabrina Bishop, master of the Lamia Coven.”

  “Master? I know nothing of this coven. Where do you hail from?”

  “Chicago,” she said. “I’ve come a great distance.”

  Zaruki arched an eyebrow. “I am not familiar with Chicago or with your coven. But I’m curious why you would travel a great distance to insert yourself in a minor political skirmish in the five kingdoms?” She sniffed, a clear message in her eyes—mind your own coven.

  “I will speak with your master now!” Sabrina said firmly.

  Zaruki turned her attention back to Sylas. “The vampires of Nochtbend have chosen to remain neutral in this political affair. We’ve never cared for the empress’s vision of uniting the kingdoms, but until the Obsidian Guard sets foot on Nochtbend soil, we will not involve ourselves.” Her eyes drifted to Sabrina again. “Now, I will call Ruthgard to show you out.”

  Sabrina’s green eyes shifted to Tobias. He gave her a small nod. “Zaruki, I challenge you for your position in Nochtbend coven.”

  “What did you say to me?” Zaruki’s fangs lengthened.

  Sabrina crouched, hissing. Tobias’s mate was truly frightening, her green eyes taking on a silvery-blue glow with her anger. Dianthe took a step closer to Sylas, clearly unnerved by the display. Sabrina’s voice sounded strange as it filtered through her teeth. “I said, I challenge you. Are things so different among Nochtbend vampires that you don’t know what that means?”

  Zaruki’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Oh, I know what it means, but I fear you have no idea.” She shoved past Sabrina and threw open the door. “Guards! Take these four to the arena.”

  “The arena?” Dianthe whispered to Sylas.

  He barely glanced back at her. He did not take her hand. She shifted nervously beside him.

  “It appears that you will have your wish, Sylas,” Zaruki said, glaring directly at him. “You will be in the audience of the master… while I battle your friend to the death.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Something was very wrong with Sylas. Dianthe followed her mate, Tobias, and Sabrina from the room, led by a group of brutish vampires who seemed dead set on making the experience as uncomfortable as possible. Sylas did not react at all to the guard’s firm grip on her arm or move closer to her to protect her. In fact, her mate had barely looked at her since their conversation at the lake. He was angry, that was for certain.

  You said he was smothering you, she chided herself. It was a mistake. In her anger, she’d said things she regretted. Smothered was perhaps an exaggeration. Smothered was perhaps the wrong word choice given that he’d, only minutes before, allowed himself to be eaten alive by a monstrous worm. Smothered was likely the reason he wasn’t speaking to her.

  Damn it all. Why had she chosen that word?

  With a shove to the center of her back, Dianthe stumbled forward into a pit of mud and stone. She flapped her wings to right herself, then looked up and up and up. An underground coliseum rose above her, quickly filling with thousands of vamps whose individual mumbles created a cacophony that echoed through the space. Occasionally, Dianthe heard the word challenge pop out of the otherwise indistingui
shable din of voices.

  “By the goddess.” Dianthe turned in place, disturbed by the sheer size of the stadium and the fact that she was surrounded by predators. Every one of these vampires would make a meal of her if there wasn’t a pact between their people. Here, would anyone even know if one of them decided to indulge? She shivered.

  The guards left the four of them alone, the tunnel into the arena closing behind them. That was that. There was no way out of here but for Sabrina to fight. Hopefully just Sabrina. Why were they all in the arena?

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Sylas whispered to Tobias and Sabrina.

  Sabrina removed her cloak, folded it neatly, and handed it to Tobias. “Do you want the second orb or not?”

  “Of course I do, but—”

  “Zaruki was not going to give you access to the master. She sympathizes with Eleanor. I could smell her contempt for you the moment you walked into the room.”

  Sabrina stripped off her shirt until she was left in only a sports bra and leggings. Her fingers danced along her hair, braiding it perfectly with superfast precision. She tied the ends with an elastic she’d had around her wrist.

  “We don’t know what this challenge entails,” Sylas said. “How can you be so sure you can handle it?”

  “She can handle it,” Tobias said confidently.

  “All vampires are fundamentally the same,” Sabrina said. “They’re violent creatures. They won’t respect us unless we demand respect. Trust me on this. I’ll be okay.”

  Dianthe observed Sylas and Tobias. Both dragons. Both mated. Their reactions could not have been more different. Tobias was smiling as his mate prepared for war. Sylas was scrubbing his face with his hands as if this entire situation was making his skin crawl. She had to agree with her mate on this one. All of Dianthe’s instincts told her Sabrina was in over her head.

  “Tobias, I need you.”

  “Blood or energy?” Tobias asked.

  “A little of both? I expect this will be… challenging.”