Authors: Jaime Rush
Nevin hadn't bothered to check the slip of paper the hulk of a man waved in his face, and off the restored motorcycle wentâwithout getting paid for. When she'd hunted the man down, he dismissed her as a mere girl. She threatened the creep with bodily harmâoddly, not with shooting him but tearing out his throat. He must have sensed her suppressed violence, because he paid on the spot.
“Killing is not easy to do,” Cyntag said. “And should never be done out of rage.”
“Are you speaking from experience?” It sure sounded like it.
His mouth twitched ever so slightly. “I don't think we should go there just now.”
Which meant they'd go there later. And that she was right.
Cyntag smelled of earth and fire andâwhere in the hell were these thoughts coming from? His energy and heat pulled at her. Were his eyes glowing? She swore something flickered in them, just for a second.
He nodded to the point of the letter opener. “Why are you hesitating?”
She took a step back, bringing the opener to her side. “Because I can't be sure you did it.” He was right. If he was Mon's murderer, she'd be dead.
“Very good. You put logic over your anger. As opposed to when you pulled the gun on me or tried to crush my balls. Never let your emotions drive you.”
“I'm not a rash and emotional person. Then again, I don't usually watch someone I love die or get chased by a supernatural ball of fire.”
He leaned against the door again, though she couldn't be certain it was to block her escape. He looked so relaxed.
Yeah, as relaxed as a lion.
“What do you know about the Hidden?”
“It's a fairy-tale world my uncle made up for me. How do
you
know about it?” She couldn't imagine Mon sharing that with this guy. Or anyone, really.
“Tell me about this world.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
Fine, she'd humor him. “Centuries ago, there was this Atlantis-like island in the Bermuda Triangle called Lucifera that was governed by gods of Dragons and magick. Because of the weird energy that comes from crystals found deep within the Earth's surface, along with a planetary alignment and a solar storm, some of the gods were able to take physical human form. They succumbed to human emotions and, as Mon put it, âfell in love' with the people. What he meant was that the gods got with the humans, because they created children. They were called Crescents because they inherited a sliver of their sire's godly nature.”
He dipped his head in confirmation. “Legend has it that three gods realized procreating with humans wasn't a good idea. An angel, a Dragon, and a Deuce formed the Tryah and incited a war in hopes that the Crescents would kill each other off. It escalated into a magick war.”
“Alrighty then, glad you cleared that up for me.”
“Happy to do so. Go on, let's see if you've got the rest of it right.”
Feeling like a schoolgirl being tested on history, she found herself striving to recall the details. Which was ridiculous, since it was a friggin' fairy tale. “The war ended up destroying the island and forced the humans to the mainland. The naughty gods were trapped in a state of limbo between their plane of existence and the Bermuda Triangle.”
“That's right. What else was part of Moncrief's Hidden?” he asked.
“Monsters, demons, elves, that sort of thing, but only Crescents could see them. That's why they were considered Hidden.”
“Was there no Cyntag in the stories then?”
She wanted to laugh, of all the conceit. “No.” Her gaze slid to the dragon figurines. “There was a man who looked like you, but he was only known as the Dragon Prince. He kidnapped a young woman and seduced her to darkness. They fought a great evil together, but he was basically an arrogant butthead, and she ended up killing him.”
His upper lip twitched, not quite a sneer but close. “Seduced her to darkness, hmm? And did this woman have a name?”
“Garnet.” Mon's sketches of her had reminded Ruby of Alice from
Alice in Wonderland
.
Cyntag slowly nodded. “I suppose he was trying to prepare you in his feeble way, giving you the truth without telling you that it was, in fact, true. Except the Dragon Prince would never kidnap anyone. How do I know? He based the prince on me, I'm sure, though I am no prince.”
“
That
I can believe.”
He very nearly smiled that time. “You never made the connection between Garnet and Ruby both being red gems?”
“Of course. I figured since he wrote the stories for me, he gave the girl a name similar to mine.
Stories
being the key word there, as in make-believe, fictional. Come on. Gods? Dragons?”
“You
are
the girl in the story. When you reached puberty, you should have been initiated into your full power. Moncrief could not do that because he's not the same type of Crescent as you. You were supposed to move in with people like you to learn their ways. I swore to your grandfather that I would train you, prepare you, and be your protector. But Moncrief wouldn't cooperate, stubborn old goat.”
He looked up at the ceiling and rubbed the back of his neck where his black hair curled in damp spikes. “You would have been so much easier to deal with then. Malleable. Impressionable. I can see you will be every bit the pain in my ass that your uncle was.”
“You mean I would have been brainwashed.”
People like you
, he'd said, as though they were in some cult. “You just wanted some young girl under your spell. Ew, you wanted
me
under your spell.”
He gave her a look that reeked of disdain. “I would only want a grown woman under my spell. I consider you far too young for me. And, beyond that, not my type.”
“I'm twenty-four years old. And you're what, thirty?”
His mouth turned up in a slow smile. “I'm two-hundred-and-sixty-something, but thank you for the compliment.”
“Hah, funny. Look, I really must be going. I've got employees expecting me back at work. Strong, big, muscular employees.” Well, Nevin counted as big, anyway. “Let's just forget this little misunderstanding.” She grabbed the gun and magazine and tucked them separately into her waistband.
See, no threat at all.
“Ruby, you don't seem to get that everything changes now. First, I need you to understand what you're dealing with. Your uncle kept you in the dark, one of those bad decisions based on emotions.”
“Mon was the least emotional person I ever knew.” He'd taught her to release her emotions by pounding on something rather than crying.
“As a master of illusion, he revealed only what he wanted you to see. He was a magician in the truest sense of the word. He used his magick for fame and fortune, which is generally frowned upon, but it helped that he performed in Europe. Did he ever reveal to you how he performed his illusions?”
“No. Well, he did say it was real magic. When I was a child, I believed him. As I got older, I knew there had to be tricks. I saw those shows where the guy betrays his fellow magicians and reveals how the popular tricks are done. I figured it was something like that. Wait a minute. You said danger was stalking me. Why would someone harm me?”
“Where do I start?”
“There's a
list
?”
“First it was from the people who had your parents killed.”
“Killed? Mon said it was an accident, that the authorities thought their boat hit something out in the ocean and sank.”
Cyntag shook his head. “Someone ordered their deaths.”
“That's as crazy as everything else you've said.
More
crazy.”
“We decided to let everyone think you died, too. Did you ever wonder why Moncrief adopted you so quickly, changed your last name to his, and took you out of the country? It was too risky for Brom to raise you since he was a blood relation and easily connected to you. Moncrief had lost his wife and daughter years earlier, and Brom knew he would do good by you. His most important illusion was hiding that you hold magick.”
He slowly waved his hand in front of her face, his eyes staring straight into hers between his long fingers. “Crescents can identify one another by our eyes. Some are icy glitter, some swirling mist, and others burning embers.”
Her heart hitched. Hadn't she thought she'd seen a glow in his eyes? She looked again but couldn't see it now.
He lowered his hand. “Moncrief cast an illusion spell to hide the magick in your eyes. You looked like a Mundane, a regular human. Now that he's gone, the spell is wearing off. Soon it will be obvious to every Crescent who sees you.”
She walked over to a gilt-framed mirror on the side wall and stared at herself. No glow. He was full of it. “I don't see anything like what you described.”
“Because you cannot
see
.” He came up behind her. “You have not been Awakened. Crescents are initiated in a ceremony at thirteen, when their powers begin to appear. It's similar to those of many native tribes to celebrate a coming of age. But much more comes with being an Awakened Crescent.”
Thirteen. She remembered a gnawing hunger deep in her belly and vivid dreams filled with colors and longing andâ¦dragons. That's when the damned rash had popped up, too. Different than what she heard other girls her age going through. Not that she was around many with whom she could compare notes.
She hadn't wanted to kiss boysâor girlsâor wear makeup or go shopping. She wanted something she couldn't define. Drinking, partying, working her ass off, nothing sated it.
Cyntag brushed her bangs from her forehead, his thumb grazing the skin near her burn. “The orb did this?” She nodded, and anger shimmered over his face. “Unacceptable.”
“I thought so.”
He'd said it as though the attack on her was a personal affront to him.
Like he owns you
.
“Right now you're like a baby chick fallen prematurely from the nest, without feathers developed enough to fly from danger or any way to fight enemies. Unable to even see them. You might get a glimpse now and then, but that won't be enough.”
“You're saying I have powers?” Could her disbelief be more clear? “Can I make one of those orb-lightning-bolt things?”
Another twitch of a smile. “Sorry, no. However, you are much more magnificent than mere magick.”
“I'm magnificent. Yeah.” She couldn't help but glance down at herself. “Fine, how do I getâ¦what'd you call it? Awakened?”
Let's play along.
“Considering the circumstances, only I can awaken your powers.”
Did his arrogance know no bounds?
Dumb question, Ruby.
“What do I have to give you for that?”
“You assume there's a price?”
“There's always a price.” She could see that he had one, too.
He stepped closer, again breaching boundaries. She wouldn't move away. If only she didn't have to look up at him. Even though she was five foot eight, he was way taller. His heat reached out, beckoning her. She stiffened her stance. The dragon tattoo eyed her, but no, she did
not
see it move.
He waited until she drew her gaze back to his face. “The price is that once you see, you can never go back to being blind. Once you know, you can never forget. Once you experience your true nature, you can never ignore it.”
“Ignore what?”
He released a breath. “We'd better start with the small stuff.”
 Â
The Dragon Prince stood before Garnet as a man now, though she knew the dark beast lurked inside him. His hair was so black that it was nearly blue where shafts of sunlight fell upon it. Eyes just as black, eternal wells where shadows dwelled beyond her ken. In the days since she'd come here, she had watched intruders try to storm his stone castle high on a mountaintop, watched him and his army of Dragons knock them back. Had they been her people come to rescue her? She did not know.
He had summoned her to a room of colorful marble and glittering chandeliers for their first real meeting. The kind of sitting area where one entertained important guests.
He sat like a king in a tall-backed chair of rich tapestry and carved wood. “Welcome to my castle, Princess. I hope you find it to your liking, as you will dwell forever more with me.”
“You cannot keep me here as a prisoner.” But he could. She saw in his eyes that he could do whatever he wished. “Why? Why did you save me, only to enslave me?”
“Your destiny lies with me. When you come of age, you will become my wife.”
He turned into a Dragon and approached her. She stood tall and strong even as her knees quivered. He opened his mouth and released a dark mist that enveloped her. She tried not to breathe, sensing the magick in it. The spell.
Finally her lungs burst, and she sucked in the mist. She felt it slide down her throat and change her very cells. Like the New Year's fireworks, flashes of images blinded her. Dragons, small and large, bright and dark, filled her mind.
“What have you done to me?” she screamed, trying to push away the images.
“You are mine, and so you must become Dragon like me. You'll have time to embrace your magick, to see the wonder of what you now are.”
She felt it inside her, the coiling energy of something foreign and dangerous. “You are evil! I will never be your wife, never!”
She ran, but there was no escape. This castle, like herself, was a jewel set in the middle of treacherous thorns. So she went back to the only sanctuary she knew: her chambers. She hurried to the window, far above the ground, and let the sun warm her cheeks while the breeze chilled the tracks of her tears.
A flutter made her eyes open. “Opal!”
The dove landed on the sill, stepping onto Garnet's finger as easily as before. It rubbed its cheek against her palm, the heartwarming gesture it had done from the first time it landed on her hand. “I must not be too much a monster if you still come to me.” She nuzzled the bird. “Or have you come to remind me of who I really am?”