Chained: Reckless Desires (Dragon's Heart Book 1) (11 page)

“You won’t lay a finger on her. Ever,” Valdemar said. His suit jacket split at the seams. His breathing was fast and hot.

“Oh yeah?” Heath said, just as he lashed out and slapped Bella across the face. It wasn’t a hard blow, but it was shocking. She’d never been hit before, at least not since a girl fight in seventh grade.

Valdemar spun and leapt at Heath. He was transformed. His skin had taken on a scaled look with patterns of red and gold shining on his face. His eyes were no longer black, but instead raged with flames. He was taller—a foot taller—and horns erupted from his forehead like two curved knives. His left hand had become clawed and wings of shadow and smoke erupted from his back. Fanged teeth like a tyrannosaur filled his mouth.

Only his right hand, where the chain was, was untouched by the transformation.

All of the rage she’d witnessed, the tantrums, the anger—it was only a shadow compared to the thing that stood before her now. Valdemar, or Dorian, or the beast—whatever you called it—it was a horror. It punched Charles Edward Heath in the belly and sent him smashing into the ceiling. Dust and plaster exploded out from the impact. Heath spit up blood when he landed and then backpedaled away, crawling and tumbling and rolling just to get farther from the monster. He thought he knew Dorian. He thought he could bully him, but there were worse things in the world than he had ever imagined.

Dorian would kill the man. She could see it. She knew what his rages were like when they under control. This was worse, so much worse. She couldn’t let him do it. There was enough trouble in the world already. If Dorian killed Heath all of their lives would be over. Knowing full well what she was doing, Bella stepped into the path of the monster, shielding Heath from his certain death.

Heath wasted no time in scurrying out of the room and away, far away.

“Move,” the monster said in a voice deep and rumbling and crackling, like a forest fire. He regarded her with his burning eyes while his body tensed and twitched with every heartbeat. He looked wrong and incomplete, as if his body wasn’t yet done changing.

“No,” Bella said. “Control yourself. Remember who you are. You’re Dorian Winterborn, not this thing.”

The monster laughed and the sound chilled Bella. He was not crazed with rage. There was a mind at work inside him. “Perhaps this is who I am, and Dorian is just a mask I wear?”

Was he a monster pretending to be a man? Was that the truth of him? No, it couldn’t be. She’d seen something great and kind and lively in his eyes that was missing from the thing that stood before her.

“Is this it, then? The curse? Your father did this to you?” Bella could hear Heath throwing open the front doors of the mansion and hurrying away. Another minute and he’d be in his car and unreachable, she hoped. And then she could run, too.

“This is not the curse,” the monster said, enunciating each word carefully around the jagged teeth in his mouth. “But you’re right, my father did this to me. It’s his blood you see now, coursing in me. His cold heart that beats in my chest.”

It was as if Bella’s world spun and flipped and locked into a different shape in seconds. The family seal. The photos where Octavian didn’t age. The hunting trophies from centuries ago. The giant statue over the front door. It’d all been spelled out for her but she hadn’t seen it. She’d been so blind, so stupid.

“Your father,” she said. “He was a dragon.”

“Just so,” the monster agreed. “Now move—I can still catch that rat before he gets away.” He beat his wings of shadow and smoke and Bella was buffeted by the air.

Dragons were real. She’d been living in the home of one, completely unaware. Had Chloe known? Had her father? She thought not, or they would have spirited her away.

“I won’t let you,” she said, blocking the door with her body.

“Don’t make me move you. I am not gentle when I am like this.”

“So you’re going to hit me? Knock me aside after attacking that ass for doing the same? Is that who you are now? Will you hit me like your father hit you?”

The flames exploded in the monster’s eyes and then guttered out. A sharp smell filled the air, like burning cinnamon, and then the beast was gone and Dorian was there, on his knees. His clothes were rags on his body. The chain around his wrist cut deep into him—his blood dripped hotly onto the floor, where it sizzled with inhuman heat.

“Bella,” he said, his voice wrecked. “Forgive me.” He reached up to her with a trembling hand but she turned and ran out of the house as fast as she could. The last thing she heard before the doors closed behind her was Dorian’s wail of anguish. It sounded like a life going up in flames.

B
ella found
her father still working on the roses in the driveway. If he’d thought Heath’s exit or the roaring from the mansion were odd, he didn’t show it.

“Did you know?” Bella asked as she approached him.

But the man ignored her and kept working.

“Don’t you dare ignore me, Dad. Tell me: did you know?”

He looked up from the ground with tired eyes. “Know what?”

“About the Winterborns? That they’re a bunch of—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—a bunch of dragons?”

Franklin Hart stood up. “The Lord was a dragon,” he said in a condescending tone. “And a great man. His sons are a bunch of temperamental half-breeds. None can hold a candle to Octavian.”

Bella couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You did know. You knew and still you let me live and work here, knowing full well the danger I was in.”

Franklin rolled his eyes. “You’re being dramatic, Isabella. As usual. Is the danger here any greater than New York City or San Francisco? No, of course not. Besides, the Lord Heir can’t access his gifts. His father saw to that. He locked them away forever.” Franklin smirked, as if the thought of Dorian being punished was delicious to him.

“What do you know about it, Dad? What aren’t you saying?”

“The Lord and I agreed on a great many things, monkey. We were very much alike. Both of us were self-made men. Strong men, with children who disappointed us. We agreed that discipline was lacking in today’s generation of participation-trophy kids. Coddled by your mothers and your teachers and your schools.”

“What did you do?” Bella asked. She expected his insults to sting, but they rolled off her. She found that after a lifetime of not being good enough for him, of him always misjudging her, expecting the worst, taking everyone else’s side against her, that she simply did not care what he thought of her anymore. The man was always wrong. It wasn’t her fault.

“That bracelet he wears. We salvaged it from an old antique shop. It’s cold-forged iron, the kind they don’t make anymore. Each link was etched by a witch to make the chain unbreakable and to lock away Valdemar’s draconic legacy.” Her father chuckled cruelly. “If he was going to reject his father’s name and his heritage, then they would be removed from his control, you see? We chained the dragon inside him so that it cannot roam or hunt or see or smell. It’s blind and furious inside him.”

“Why on earth would you think that was a good idea?” Bella asked. She was seeing her father for the first time. She saw the cruel lines in his face, and the truth of him. He didn’t hide out in the library reading because he was lonely or sad, he did it because he hated the world. He was afraid of the world.

“Oh, after a few months of having his birthright denied him, Valdemar would have come around and begged forgiveness from his father. He would have knelt before him and apologized for all the ways he’d wronged him and the curse would have been lifted.” Franklin struggled to his feet. “It’s a father’s job to teach his children humility and respect for one’s elders. That’s all we were trying to do.”

“But then Octavian died,” Bella said. “And now the chain can’t be unlocked.”

Franklin nodded. “And the boy will be consumed by his pent up energies. Serves him right for rejecting his father.”

Bella ran barefoot back to the house, aiming for the kitchen entrance. She’d lost her shoes at some point and her feet were raw from running across gravel, but there was no time to lose.

“Chloe!” she yelled as cleared the door, but the girl was right there, with headphones on, shaking her butt as she rolled out dough for scones. Chloe nearly leapt out of her shoes when Bella rushed in.

“Whoa girl, what’s going on?” she asked, pulling the headphones out of her ears.

“You didn’t hear anything?”

“I’ve been cranking the tunes to drown out the spirits. They’re being really pushy today.”

How much could she say? How much did Chloe already know? Bella knew that time was short. Charles Edward Heath was not the kind of man to let anything go. He’d be back with the army or attorneys or something scarier. And he’d be back fast. And who knew how much time Dorian had left? The curse was killing him, Bella knew it with all her heart. The monster—that wasn’t Dorian—it was the dragon in him cut off from the man. It was power untempered by humanity. At least she hoped her hunch was right.

“I need you to ask the spirits something, and we don’t have much time.”

“Okay, just let me finish up these scones first. We’re gonna need them for when the buyer dude and Winterborn have their lunch break.” Chloe turned back to her scones, her hands quickly kneading the dough.

Bella gently put her hands on top of Chloe’s. “Chlo, the buyer split. Dorian freaked out and turned into a monster. My father is an unrepentant asshole and I really need your help.”

Chloe stared at her as if the words didn’t make sense. “Can you run all that by me again?”

Bella shook her head. “There isn’t time. Can you talk to the spirits for me?”

“Sure, but they’re being straight up assholes today. Must be all the negative energy. It gets them cranky.” Chloe grinned and turned to Bella, “Did I ever tell you about the time my boyfriend and I blew up a ghost by having sex on top of it?”

“No,” Bella said. “Though I’d love to hear that story another time. Right now, ask them if they know where the key is to unlock Dorian’s curse.”

Chloe nodded, glanced around the room and said, “What she said.”

Bella could almost feel them swirling around. The hairs on her arms stood on end.

“A lot of them can’t talk about it. I think they signed like magical non-disclosure agreements or something. But some of the others are saying stuff.” Chloe paused, then yelled, “One at a time! I can’t understand you when you all talk at once.” She pointed at an empty chair. “You, with the glasses. Yes, yes. Okay. Not helpful.” Then she gestured to a spot near the stove. “You, guy with the grody arm. What do you have to say?”

Chloe called on the ghosts one by one. From Bella’s perspective, it was like watching a press conference held by a lunatic. But after ten minutes, Chloe had answers.

“So, yeah, okay. The spirits keep saying the key is in the house, but they’re saying it with like a laugh at the end, which usually means they’re being technically correct but also playing some game.”

“What kind of game?”

“Y’know, like in the old stories where someone wishes on a monkey’s paw and their wish gets granted, but ironically?”

“They’re saying the key is in the house, ironically?”

Chloe shrugged. “They aren’t great about answering questions.”

“Will you come upstairs with me? Dorian was sure it’d be up there and maybe if we’re closer to it, the spookies can point it out? Or give better hints?”

Chloe bit her lip. “I’m not supposed to go up there, but I’ve been dying to check it out.” She took off her apron and chef’s hat and shut off all the burners on the stove, then turned off the gas at the main on the wall. “I need to be careful. Some of these guys like to try to cook when I’m not around and it gets messy. It’s better if they can’t turn the burners on.”

The two women raced through the western wing of the servants’ quarters, past rooms and halls Bella had never explored. The house extended into the mountain and the air was cooler in the back. Chloe led them to a twisting metal staircase, shrouded in darkness, that ascended to the top floor directly.

“This was Rodney’s secret passage,” Chloe said.

They ran up the stairs. The metal shook and jangled under their feet but held up to the assault. There was a door at the second floor, but they continued up. At the top of the stairs was a solid stone wall with candle sconces in the shape of dragon heads on either side.

“There’s no door,” Bella said. The house was full of dead ends like this. The architect was either a sadist or had quit before he was finished.

Chloe cocked her head, listening to a spirit. “You’re gonna love this,” she said. She reached out and turned one of the sconces and the wall opened before them. It was a secret door. The only light they had came from Chloe’s phone, but it was enough to see a darkened hallway beyond.

“This is the third floor, but I don’t recognize this,” Bella said. “We must be in a secret part of it.”

The hallway was narrow, just wide enough for one of them to walk through but not both. Chloe went first, following the spirit’s lead. “I think we’re in the walls. Between the house and the mountain,” Chloe said. “He wants us to follow him. He’s really agitated. Are we sure this is a good idea? I don’t know this ghost very well.”

“We could run away. We could let Heath burn the estate to the ground and let Dorian’s chains strangle him. But I don’t want to. I’m tired of running. I’m tired of giving up. I want to stand my ground and fight for what I love.” Love, she said. And she meant it. She didn’t know how it was possible, but she loved Dorian and the thought of him dying under the weight of his chains was too much to bear. He’d been a monster. He’d been a terror. But she knew that wasn’t him. The real him, the one she loved, was the one she’d danced with in that field of flowers.

She wanted to save him. She needed to save him. They just needed to find the key.

“Okay, sister. I’m in,” Chloe said. “I don’t want to look for a new job anyway.”

The hallway had no doors that Bella could see, but Chloe flipped some hidden switch in the wall and a crack of light appeared, then widened into a doorway. They both stepped through into a large room with stale air. A skylight overhead illuminated the dust they stirred with their feet, filling the air with dull sparkles. A thick wooden post occupied the center of the room. Chains hung from rings mounted on top of it. It took a moment for Bella’s eyes to adjust and then her heart stopped.

The walls were lined with skulls. Human skulls. Hundreds of them, stacked like bricks. Even the door they’d entered from was covered in skulls.

“What the hell is this?” Bella asked.

“Shit,” Chloe said. “Fucking shit.” She looked pale and unsteady. She plopped onto her butt heavily.

“These are human. There’s hundreds in here.”

The floor was etched with lines and symbols that Bella couldn’t read. It looked like some huge circle was inlaid in the floor with squiggles around it and inside it. A magic circle? Sure, why not. If her best friend could talk to ghosts and the man she loved was secretly a dragon, why not a magic circle.

The door creaked and then slammed shut. The teeth of the skulls chattered with the impact.

From below them, they heard yelling. Men yelling. Heath must have returned and he brought reinforcements.

“What are we doing in here, Chloe? Why’d the ghosts lead us here?” Bella walked around the room. There were chests in the corner. Large chests made of oak and iron with thick padlocks on the front. “Is the key in here?”

Chloe shook her head. “I’ve been wondering why there were so many ghosts in this house. You only get ghosts from violent deaths and strong emotions and unfinished business. They’re actually pretty rare. But this place, it’s just crawling with them. They’re everywhere. They wouldn’t ever tell me how they died. Most ghosts can’t, y’know? But they were all so terrified of Octavian. I should have realized.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The skulls, dude. They belong to the spirits. The spirits in the house want our help. We need to burn their bones so they can move on.”

“It must have been Octavian. He was a hunter. And also I guess a murderer? This is bad, Chloe.” Bella tried the wall where they’d come in, but couldn’t find a handle or any secret latch.

The sound of gunfire came from below them.

“The spirits say that Dorian has been hurt. The hunters have him.” Chloe said, her head cocked to the side.

“What hunters?”

“The guys who burned down the lodge with Octavian inside. They’re here. They plan to do the same for Winter’s Breath. That Heath guy, he found them, brought them here. He knew about them before, the spirits say.”

They needed to get out. They needed to get away from the fire Heath would set. To save Dorian, and Agatha if she was still around. But how? There was no exit. No way out.

The light shining down from the skylight dimmed. Bella glanced up and saw a seagull on the glass, looking down at them as if wondering if they had any crackers for it.

“I have a really terrible idea,” Bella said.

“I don’t want to die in here,” Chloe said.

“Then we climb. If there’s no doors in this creepy sacrificial chamber, then we climb. I bet Octavian did terrible things in this room. I bet he has secrets locked away in those chests that will either break Dorian’s heart or reveal some hidden wealth. The only way out of here is that skylight. This room is a freaking dragon den and if we want to survive, we have to climb.” She reached down and pulled Chloe to her feet. “Are you with me?”

Chloe nodded, but then fell back off her feet. “I can’t. The spirits are freaking out. They’re too loud. I can barely see you. Go on without me. Come back and open the door or throw down a ladder or something.”

Bella hated to leave her friend behind, but it wasn’t like she could carry Chloe on her back. She’d come back. She would.

The skulls were mortared into the wall. They weren’t going anywhere. And they led all the way up to the skylight. Bella tried experimentally to climb, but she found her dress limited her movement too much. She reached down and tore it along the seam, making a slit up to her waist. Hopefully whatever spirit it belonged to wouldn’t get pissed at her ruining their clothes and give her a good shove.

Bella put her fingers into the eye sockets of two skulls and stepped on top of two more, and pulled herself upwards. It was extremely uncomfortable. The bones were slippery and sharp and cool to the touch. But hell, if she could pass the California Bar Exam on the first try, she could do anything.

Even scale a wall made of skulls.

She focused on one step at a time. One handhold at a time. And bit by bit, step by step, she ascended the wall. Chloe was muttering to the ghosts below when Bella reached the skylight, and with one nudge it popped open. Hidden springs lifted it up and away and Bella pulled herself onto the roof.