Dragon Awakened (6 page)

“I can drive. I'm crazy, not handicapped.”

“You're not crazy. You're just part of the Hidden.”

Smoke curled up from his untouched cigar as Purcell watched the demon he'd summoned get crushed. Through a scry orb, Purcell had watched Ruby go to Valeron's dojo and then storm out a short time later. Valeron had followed and sabotaged the perfect kill opportunity. Now Purcell watched the Dragon snatch up the orb. The window through which he could watch snapped closed, leaving him in the dark room.

Valeron was still protecting Ruby. It baffled Purcell that someone would put their life on the line for a virtual stranger. He would not even do it for someone he knew well. Taking risks for a god was a different matter, of course.

That Fallon, Deuce god of nature, had approached Purcell for assistance was both humbling and gratifying. Most Deuces brave or desperate enough to appeal to a god had to perform a ceremony with magick-infused driftwood. In this case, a god needed him. It still awed him, even after all these years. He had failed because of Justin, but he would not let Fallon down again.

Fallon had opened the portal to the Dark Side and made the proper introductions. He had then left the door open so Purcell could access it on his own if it became necessary. That door, like a holographic image floating in his living room, was unnerving. Purcell detested having to use it again, but demons were a weapon that could not be traced back to him. Like the scry orb, the portal was round and hovered a few feet away from him.

The Demon Master appeared in the window. If Purcell passed him on the sidewalk, he might think the Master a surfer. His blond hair looked windblown, his skin tanned, eyes a brilliant blue. Purcell didn't know if it was a façade or if he was a different sort of demon altogether. He had no interest in asking.

“You're back,” the Master said, sounding none too enthused.

“Indeed. The demon failed, losing its life to a Dragon. I'm afraid I'm in need of more.”

The Master showed no sadness at the loss. “How many?”

“Three, maybe four, just to be certain. They seem to be easily defeated by this particular Dragon.”

Purcell suffered the Master's silence for several long moments. Finally he said, “I shall see what is available. And willing.”

A dark shadow moved behind the Master, and a scream like nothing Purcell had ever heard pierced the air just before the window closed. Purcell knew little about the Dark Side, only that it was in a plane of existence similar to where the gods were trapped. Most Deuces did not have the courage, nor the connections, to contact the plane populated by demons and other creatures Purcell had only glimpsed in the background. It was, as the name implied, dark and flat, the way the landscape appeared during a full moon.

Demons sometimes escaped the Dark Side on their own and roamed the Earthly plane, but most were controlled by the Master. Those that got out of control were imprisoned.

The window opened again. Several dark faces lurked behind the Master, their silhouettes etched against the grim landscape.

“I have four that are willing to do your bidding for some bloodlust sport. One is a harbinger.”

“It will work into my plan.”

“Do you agree to the Three Tenets?”

“Yes,” Purcell said. They were his responsibility, and he would pay the price should they expose the Hidden. He would supervise them and send them back or terminate them if they broke out of his control. And third, he accepted the danger inherent in dealing with demons.

This was the part he despised. The demons scrambled through the window, their clawed feet scratching on the wood floor as they gathered in front of him, their temporary master. The harbinger had taken the appearance of a homeless old man. The others looked as terrifying as the first one he'd taken custody of.

“I have two targets, both Dragon.” He summoned the illusion of Cyntag's and Ruby's faces. “He is a powerful Obsidian. The girl is not as strong.”

One demon narrowed its red eyes at the image of Cyntag. “He is the one who took out Sed?”

Purcell hadn't known the demon's name. “Yes. He murdered your comrade. Perhaps your friend?” Better to motivate them with revenge.

The demons laughed, a sound like someone shaking a bag of glass bottles. One said, “That asshole? We were happy to hear of his death.”

A second one said, “But we hate Dragons even more. We don't need revenge to juice our bloodlust.”

Could they read his mind? Purcell pushed past that disturbing thought. “You may take them out in any way that you'd like, provided it doesn't compromise Rule Number One. Eliminate anyone who might help them. Or gets in the way.”

The demons nodded their understanding, releasing hisses that might be glee. Purcell brought up an image of the dojo and turned to the harbinger. “You, hang around this establishment and watch for our targets. You three, remain close and wait for my order.”

Now for the worst part. Purcell held out his hand to form the psychic bond. Their dry hands clasped his, and he felt the tips of their claws press into his skin.

The harbinger bared its teeth in a smile. “Till death do us part.”

The day of her eighteenth birthday dawned bright. Garnet had been here five years, with freedom to come and go within the confines of the castle and its grand gardens. She had a nanny and teachers, the finest of meals and entertainments. The best part was that she had not seen much of the Dragon Prince, who dined with her every now and then and asked after her welfare as though he cared. The real prison was the spell he had cast upon her—the Dragon that resided within her clawing to be let out.

A quick knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts. It was her lady-in-waiting, who looked as though she were bringing bad news.

Gwendolyn gave her a tremulous smile. “Happy birthday, Your Highness,” she said with a bow. “It is time. The Dragon Prince has told you, yes?”

“Told me what?”

“That you and he are to marry today. A small ceremony, just the staff. He wishes for me to ready you.” She pulled a basket filled with flowers from behind her back. “For your hair. He loves it long, you know.”

“No, I don't know. I know nothing of him. Which is fine with me.”

“You will know much after today.” Gwendolyn's face blushed. “The stylists will be here soon, to do your hair, fit you for the dress, and make up your face. You are pretty now, but you will be a vision soon.”

Hours later, Garnet was finally alone again. The dress was as heavy as her fate. She hardly recognized herself in the mirror's reflection, with her curled hair adorned with petals and flashing with crystals. How would she feel when her Dragon was released? She knew little of the process, only that she would be Awakened in a ritual. Had she been born with the Dragon inside her, she would have Awakened at puberty. The prince assured her that he would personally train her to master it. He promised he would help her to find the beauty of it. Garnet highly doubted the latter.

She wandered to her window, where she dreamed of going home. Opal flew down and landed on her finger. The dove rubbed her palm with its cheek, touching her heart with the familiar gesture.

“Have you come to wish me a happy birthday? The only person who shall be happy today is the prince, for he will get his way.” She narrowed her eyes, the first smile in weeks gracing her lips. “Or maybe not completely.”

She settled Opal on the sill and pulled out the sewing kit from beneath her bed. She filled her days with creative projects, like sewing dresses for Gwendolyn and the other girls who'd never owned anything pretty. The prince supplied everything she asked for, even the expensive lace and ribbons.

Garnet turned to the mirror again, feeling a fire inside her she had not felt for so long. She spent the next hour tying her wedding dress into odd configurations, tucking in the sleeves and adding a neckline that covered her décolletage. She cut her hair and twined dead roses into what was left, thorns and all. She dabbed Earthen behind her ears, a healing mixture that smelled of mold.

Garnet expected the prince to be furious. And welcomed it. His staff was up in arms once they saw her, fighting her to fix her modifications. She assured them that she would tell the prince she alone was responsible.

She did not expect to be taken in by his handsome visage as he waited at the front of the small church. One of the prince's best soldiers escorted her down the aisle, his nose wrinkling at the smell of her. He backed away, taking on the same look of fearful anticipation everyone else had as they awaited the prince's reaction.

He took her in with a hint of shock in his onyx eyes and a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Then he threw his head back and laughed. His people joined him, ready to mimic his every reaction. The priest hesitated until the prince said, “Please proceed. I cannot wait to marry my rebellious and creative bride-to-be.”

Why wasn't he angry? She'd humiliated him. Taunted and defied him. He acted as though she were indeed the beauty he'd intended. He had bested her again.

Their hands were bound, binding her heart as well in a choking hold. When the priest decreed that he could kiss his bride, the prince claimed her mouth the way he had claimed her. He whispered, “Now you are officially mine,” and then turned to the crowd. “I present your new queen.”

The prince led her down the aisle and accepted many well wishes from people who both feared and revered him. A carriage took them to the great hall filled with music and the aroma of sumptuous foods. Someone announced them as husband and wife as they entered to great applause, and the prince led her to the center of the dance floor.

The music started, and he pulled her into his arms. The spell of him wrapped around her, like the Dragon spell. He spun her around and around, blurring everything but himself. His body felt strong and warm as he held her close, amusement glimmering in his eyes. Her mind screamed a warning, even as her heart softened and inexplicably strained toward him.

He drew his finger down her cheek. “You have fire. Spirit. This is good, as you will need it. For it is time to Awaken your Dragon. A great darkness comes. A prophecy brought me to you before the Shadows would have killed you. Now it also brings the Black Doom. We are destined to fight it together to save mankind.”

I
t had been fifteen years since he'd had to be familiar with the nuances of Deuce magick, but Cyn knew someone who could corroborate his suspicions. As he drove, he initiated a call on his Bluetooth system, one of the many things not original in his car. “Kade, it's Cyntag Valeron. I need some info on a rather nasty orb. I've never seen one like it.”

“Did you piss off a Deuce?” Kade laughed, because it wouldn't be the first time.

“Not me, a…friend.” Presumptuous, but how else to categorize her? He described the orb, remembering how Ruby had tried to hide her terror when she'd told him about it.

“Star orb,” Kade said after a long whistle. “Powerful. They're hard to shake. But you obviously have a witness who got away. He must be clever. And damned fast.”

“Sure is.” He felt an odd surge of pride. “Can you tell me who might have the ability to make one?”

“Only an early generation Deuce.” First Gens, the original offspring, were the most powerful. Every subsequent generation lost some of the strength of their powers. “You're probably looking at someone in the first three or four generations. The problem is, as you know, they've taken on layers of identities by now. There's no way to know.”

As Crescents got too old to be alive, as far as the Mundane databases were concerned, they had to arrange for their deaths and take on a new identity.

“Yeah, and they don't exactly go around advertising it either. What can you tell me about star orbs?”

“They take a lot of work and fry your palms, from what I understand. The good news for you is that whoever sent it won't be able to conjure up another one for a day or so.”

A small relief there. Cyn didn't have to tell Kade that anything he said would remain confidential, and that worked both ways. They'd shared a few secrets over the years when they worked together at the Guard, done things that would forever remain between them and the men they'd taken orders from.

“Can whoever sent it see through the orb?”

“Yes, and they can direct its actions. If someone sent a star orb after your friend, he means business. Your guy better watch his ass.”

More like
he
was going to have to watch
her
ass. “That's what I was worried about. Thanks for the information. I'd love to catch up, but I've got a situation here. I'll be in touch soon.” He disconnected.

Now that Ruby was on the move, she should be safe until another demon picked her up. How much did the murderer know about Ruby?

At a red light, Cyn pulled on the extra shirt he kept in the trunk, a necessity for Dragons. In the rearview mirror, he saw Ruby brushing her hair from her face every few seconds, eyes wide as she glanced at the passenger seat. Her skin looked as pale as alabaster. She was holding on by a thread. He needed to get her into the Obsidian Room, where she could release the tension and fear inside her. She had to get up to speed pronto and Awakened soon after. No time to be gentle about it.

The light turned green and he went straight. He glanced back. “Hell.” She had taken a sharp right and sped out of view.

Ruby hightailed it to the Yard where things were normal and safe, where she could forget that she'd been attacked by a demon she couldn't see and
had
seen a guy turn into a dragon.

Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't totally freak out. Hell, even the ordinary sound of a plane flying overhead had her shrinking in fear. If only her rash would stop flaring. Nervous perspiration dampened her collarbone and neck as she drove through the gate and got out of her truck. She came to a standstill in the central corridor of the Yard, feeling lost.

“Hey, Miz Ruby, sorry to hear about your uncle.”

She started as Jack came up and gave her a hug. Thankfully his lanky arms went around her shoulders and nowhere near the bulge of metal at her waist. She cleared her throat and moved back. “Thanks.” His expression of sympathy vanished, morphing into bewilderment. Assuming it was about the injury on her forehead, or perhaps some new one, she waved it away. “I'm fine, just a small burn.”

“Your…eyes.”

Bloodshot? No doubt. Or maybe her pupils were dilated. Did that happen when you went crazy? Jack was the coolest, calmest guy she knew—well, until she'd met Cyntag. Which meant there was something really wrong with her eyes. “What about them?”

His voice lowered, and he glanced around as though to make sure no one was nearby. “Miz Ruby, you're a Crescent. But you weren't a Crescent when you hired me, and you weren't even one yesterday. How…”

The memory of the embers in her reflection shot to mind. Not a hallucination if Jack could see it, too. Wait a minute. He was talking about Crescents. Jack, who did not know Mon, could not possibly know of his tales. She gripped his arm and stared into his eyes. There, just for a second, a spark like she'd seen in Cyntag's eyes.

“Tell me what you see, Jack.”

“Embers. But…I don't understand.”

“Believe me, you're not the only one.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “I knew there was something about you, Miz Ruby.”

Something about her. She stumbled away, her chest so tight she had to pound it.

Nevin walked out of the building where the gas pump was being restored, his face pinched. Leo stepped out next to him, and he looked even more tense.

“Ruby, can we talk to you?” Nevin asked, his voice squeaky like it was when he was about to tell her he'd bungled a project.

She robotically followed them into the building where Nevin closed the door despite the warmth inside. Leo's arms were straight down at his sides, hands clenched as though he was ready to tackle her. Her body stiffened in response.

“Ruby, did you kill your uncle?”

Had she seen a mist in Leo's eyes? Was she friggin' seeing things everywhere now? Could she be swept up in a full-blown schizophrenic hallucination? Which was preferable to this all being real, because there were pills for that.

“I tell you about your uncle paying me to toughen you up, you hightail it out of here, and then your uncle dies in a fire.” Leo's voice softened the way it might if he were talking to an insane person. “I know you were upset, but I want you to think about what happened. Did you go a little crazy? It's okay, Ruby. You can tell us.”

He thought she'd killed her uncle.

She laughed, a sound that probably corroborated his suspicions because it came out a hysterical cackle. He started to reach for her shoulders, like he was going to restrain her.

She saw the mist swirl again, and before he could reach her, she screamed, “You're one, too! I can't believe this.” She grabbed Nevin by his shirt and wrenched him to within an inch of her nose. “What about you? Do you have anything in your eyes? Glows, flames, mists—”

Leo's arm went around her waist, and he hauled her out of the building as though she were a piece of metal ready to be soldered. Sideways. She kicked and punched him, but he didn't set her down until they were outside. He waved off Nevin, who looked as though she'd smacked him.

When they were some distance away, Leo set her on her feet and threw his hands up to ward off the fist she was pulling back. “Nevin's not one of us,” he gritted out. “Rule Number One, Ruby!”

Not one of us.
Then Leo's admonishment about Rule Number One registered, the same thing Mon had said.

“Back away from her. Now.”

The authoritative command came from behind her and made Leo automatically step back. She knew that voice before she even turned. Cyntag looked like a ninja warrior in his white pants and tight black shirt, so out of place, so larger than life that she hoped
he
was a hallucination. Unfortunately he looked real, from the way the material hugged muscular thighs all the way to the sun reflecting on his dark hair.

She jabbed her finger at him. “You, get away from me. I don't know what the hell you are—”

“I'm what you are, Ruby.”

“No.” She shook her head hard. “I am not a…” She let the word
dragon
trail off.

“Who the hell are
you
?”

She spun to find Jack drawing up, his shoulders wide and hands fisted. His body tensed even more when he met Cyntag's gaze. The two did some kind of male posturing thing, clearly sizing each other up. Jack was a teenager's wiry kind of muscular. Cyntag was bigger and buffer, and held an energy that just felt more dangerous. Jack appeared as though he might combust on the spot.

Cyntag looked lethally relaxed. “I'm Cyntag Valeron. You don't want to mess with me.”

Jack's jaw tightened. “Well, I sure as hell ain't gonna let you come in here and harass Miz Ruby.”

Taking Jack's cue, Leo stepped forward. “Me either. I'm an old friend of hers. I think she may be in trouble, and none of this concerns you.”

Even with two against one, Cyntag didn't appear as though he were going to back down. “
Miz
Ruby's business is my business. She
is
in trouble, big trouble. I'm her sworn protector, so she's my responsibility.”

She held her hands up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not his”—she turned to Cyntag—“your responsibility.” God, she hadn't been someone's responsibility since she turned eighteen and took control of the Yard. She looked from Jack to Leo, neither of whom seemed baffled by Cyn's assertion. “Come on, you can't know about this sworn-protector business.”

“It's an honor thing,” Jack said. “You promise to take care of someone at any cost.”

“It was used more often in the olden days,” Leo said. “Back when there
was
honor. Or so I've been told ad nauseam by my parents.”

“I swore it to her grandfather,” Cyntag said. “Brom Winston.”

“Brom?” Leo said. “Isn't he the dude who predicted the island would sink? He was like Noah, told everyone to build boats and saved a bunch of our ancestors. And he was only ten years old or something.”

Cyntag nodded. “Yes, that Brom Winston.”

Her grandfather, Brom Winston? Then the rest of what they were saying hit her. The island sank.
Our ancestors.
Ruby staggered, because she couldn't deny it any longer. Mon's fairy tales…weren't tales.

Though both men clearly weren't comfortable around Cyntag, she sensed their deference to him. Or maybe a fearful respect. Either way, the subject of Brom calmed the edge in Jack's body language.

Cyntag stepped up to her, forcing Jack to move back. “Ruby has to go away for a while. I suggest you take a few days off until we figure out what's going on. There might be some dangerous visitors looking for her.”

She shook her head. “What? No, I've got projects, commitments…” The words died in her throat.
Visitors as in demons.
This was real. Crazy, insane, but real. The demon killed that man and that poor little creature. It might hurt these people. Cyntag met her gaze, nodding as he saw understanding dawn. He'd been real, too, with scales and fangs and deep blue eyes. An honest-to-God Dragon. She turned to Jack. “Take a vacay.”

Jack said, “I can protect you, Miz Ruby.” He nodded to Cyntag. “I mean, you don't even know this guy, do you?”

Cyntag walked over to the Harley and ran his hand over the freshly painted tank. “Nice job, kid.” A compliment, yet she knew the word “kid” was meant to establish a hierarchy. “Have you been trained to fight?”

“Enough to fend off the occasional punk-ass trying to assert his dominance.” Jack glanced at Ruby. “If you'll pardon my French.”

She shook her head. “It's fine.”

Cyntag seemed to be assessing Jack. “But you've never Breathed Dragon.”

“No, sir. But I could.” His shoulders widened. “I sure could if I had to.”

“What's Breathing Dragon?” Ruby asked.

“Later,” Cyntag said.

That didn't sound good, but she didn't need to know
more
crazy stuff.

He met Jack's gaze again. “Ever tangled with a Deuce-made entity or demon?”

“Couple of times. Had a feud with a Douche neighbor.” Jack glanced at Ruby. “Sorry, Deuce. Nothing that would kill me but a real pain in the ass. Literally.” He patted his butt, then blanched as he looked at Ruby again. “If you'll—”

She held out her hand. “I can handle curse words. Like
holy shit
, how the
hell
did I get myself into this crazy-
assed
situation?” She gave him a forced smile.

Cyntag's mouth quirked but he maintained his serious expression as he turned to Jack. “I appreciate your dedication and loyalty, but you're still in school, aren't you?”

“Yeah. I'm in my last year, and then I'm joining the Guard.”

If that was meant to impress Cyntag, it didn't seem to. “You go to the Dragon Academy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Finish your schooling before you start throwing yourself in battle. If you stick your snout into this, I'll have them pull your ass from the program.”

Jack's jaw tensed, obviously taking the threat seriously. “Yes, sir.”

Cyntag gave him a nod. “Let's clear out, Ruby.”

“Nevin,” she called to her partner, who lingered a short distance away with a worried expression that turned even more apprehensive when he looked at Cyntag. “We're closing the Yard for a few days.” He wouldn't mind that part. “And no, I didn't kill my uncle. But whoever did might come here. I don't want to take any chances.”

Nevin walked closer. “Wait a minute. Are you saying it was…murder? Have you talked to the police?”

“I can't tell you everything right now.” Or ever, but she'd have time to come up with some plausible story. Well, she hoped she did. “And we can't tell the police. Just go home and be safe.”

“But—”