Dragon Heartstring (12 page)

Banding his arms around me underneath my wings, he hugged me close. “I’m afraid I would’ve killed him if you hadn’t stopped me.”

“I know.”

He nudged my lips apart with his own then swept in with his tongue, stroking gently, nipping at my bottom lip as he pulled away. “Stay with me.”

“For tonight?”

The firelight danced over his features, his brown eyes the hue of melted honey. “Forever. If you like.”

My Aunt Asheera’s words came back to me, urging me to tell him about dragon heartstring. But I wasn’t sure he was ready for what “forever” meant for a Morgon. Once heartbound, he would live a longer life, hundreds of years longer. That is, if I lived the same. For once we were bound, neither could live without the other. If he died, so would I. If I died, so would he. We’d already had too much heaviness for one night. I couldn’t tell him. Not yet.

“Demetrius. Take me to your bed. And
show
me how you feel about me.”

Without another word, he lifted me in his arms and did as I asked.

Demetrius showed me his passion, his desire, his adoration and then, when we finally fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, he showed me how precious I was to him, keeping me within the shelter of his arms all night long.

“
D
on’t be afraid
.” Demetrius squeezed my hand and pressed the back of it to his lips.

“I’m not afraid.” The crowds squeezed onto the courthouse steps, including a few picketers of KORC. “I’m terrified.”

“Hey.” A finger under my chin, he gently tilted my face toward him. Caught in those dark eyes, my attention was riveted on him and the fierce strength he exuded. “I won’t be far. I’ll be in the audience. If you need reassurance, just look my way. Okay?”

With a shaky nod, I said, “Okay.”

His fingers threaded into my unbound hair as he edged closer and brushed his lips over mine. “It’ll all be over soon.” He firmed his mouth against mine, sliding his tongue inside for a brain-scattering kiss. He pulled back. “Better?”

“No. Now I just want to go home and pull you into bed with me.”

He grinned. “After.”

“Right.” Staring out the window, I sat up and exhaled a deep breath. “After.”

He squeezed my hand. “Come on.”

Before I’d even shut the door, he was at my side, an arm protectively around my waist, the backside of my wings brushing his skin. As one, we burrowed through the crowd of reporters and protestors, Demetrius firmly moving people out of our path.

I stared straight ahead, but one KORC sign caught my attention:
Volt guns are a human’s best friend.

The carrier of the sign, a lanky college boy wearing designer jeans and an expensive watch, shouted, “Go back to your own kind!”

I blocked out the rest of the crowd’s shouting and the reporters jockeying to ask me questions as Demetrius ushered me past security and into the courthouse where the noise dulled to the murmuring of senators, attorneys, and officials there to witness the proceeding.

I caught my aunt’s gaze the moment I looked around. She glanced at Demetrius then back to me and smiled. My father did not. Rather, he scowled at our approach. Knowing this wasn’t the time to introduce dear old Dad to my human lover, I stopped Demetrius with a hand on his arm. “I’ll be fine from here.”

His brow pursed together in that familiar frown. He glanced at the Icewing clan, then back at me. “Are you ashamed of me?”

Slapped with that very unexpected question, I flinched. As if I could be ashamed of him. “
No.
Of course not.”

“Then why not introduce me?”

I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Because my father will want to ask you a hundred questions, and his mind will stray from the task at hand. I’ll have them over for dinner as soon as this is over.”

“Promise?” he asked before gripping my arms just below the shoulder. His expression darkened to that stern countenance he so often wore. “You know, you said something to me at Julian’s party that has never left me.”

“I did? What was that?”

“You said it was men like me who weren’t ready for a world where humans and Morgons mixed.”

I glanced down, shameful now of that accusation. “I was talking about the clinic.”

“No, you weren’t. But that’s okay. I wanted to clarify something now if I could.” He shifted closer, way too close for a public place. The fixed look of adamant in his eyes made my heartrate skitter faster.

“Demetrius.”

He gripped me tighter to keep me from backing away, pressing his body close as he leaned down, his lips hovering near mine. Flashes popped outside the glass doors where photographers swarmed.

“Demetrius, what are you doing?”

“I want to be very clear about something.”

“Can we talk about this later?”

“No.”

“Everyone is staring.”

“That’s precisely the point.”

“Then tell me whatever you need to say.” The weight of the stares was almost stifling. And Demetrius never moved his gaze from mine, as if the world didn’t matter at all. Only us.

“You were right in one sense. There are some men who will never be ready for the likes of us.”

“Us?”

“You and me. Morgon and human. But you were wrong about me.”

“I know, I—”

“You meant it at the time,” he said, cutting off what would’ve been my sad apology. “But I want you to know right now, Shakara Icewing, that the world can go to hell and burn for all I care.” One hand slid beneath my hair, wrapping my nape. “You are mine, and I am yours. And that is all that matters.”

He crushed his lips to mine, much to the photographers’ delight as flashes went off like fireworks. The crowd of officials buzzed around us. I froze, petrified.

Demetrius simply pulled away, smiled down at me, and said, “I’ll be waiting here for you after.” He marched past the gathering of my clansmen, every one of them gawking, including my father. He said, “Good morning,” and gave them a courteous nod as if he hadn’t just planted an extremely inappropriate kiss on me for the whole world to see. No one said a word, just stared at him as he waltzed by. Then he passed his own father and members of the Chamber of Commerce and said “Morning, Father. Gentlemen.” He marched on with a lightness in his step and head held high as he entered the double doors of Parliament’s White Chamber, where all hearings and sessions took place. Everyone remained staring, stupefied, including me, until the doors opened behind us.

Lucius, Jessen, and Julian entered, Lucius with one wing wrapped around their son. They stopped at my side.

“Good Lord, what did we miss?” asked Jessen, scanning the hall. “Everyone is stunned still.”

“I’ll tell you later. Time to get going.”

Lucius leaned over and brushed a kiss to Jessen’s cheek. “We’ll be inside.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, but he walked away looking less than comforted. When Lucius was gone, she asked me, “Have you see him? Aron Grayson?”

“No. I’m wondering if he plans to come at all. He may send a representative of the business.”

“That would be a relief. Let’s go then.”

We strode toward my clansmen, my aunt at the head, and joined them as everyone piled into the White Chamber.

“You two will sit at the front with us,” Aunt Asheera told me with a squeeze of my hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“I thought your head might be spinning from that kiss you just received.”

“What?” whispered Jessen, nudging into the conversation. “What kiss? Someone kissed you?”

“Um, yes. Your brother.” I glanced to the left to find him sitting in the front row for officials. He gave me a small smile.

“Stars above,” said Jessen. “I suppose the world is coming to an end.”

“No,” I assured her. “It’s only getting better.”

“We shall see,” said Aunt Asheera.

Members of Parliament sat at the front of the room in a semi-circle with the five members of the Proposal Council at their center.

She leaned closer and added, “After today.”

We settled into our seats at the front table, Jessen to my left, Aunt Asheera, my father, and ten other clansmen seated to my right.

The hearing council was made up of five senior Parliament members. And while other members had the power to sway the council, these five men held all the cards when it came to enacting new laws and doctrines.

The council head, Tennison, cracked his gavel on the wood three times. “Hear ye, hear ye. The hearing will begin at the close of chamber doors.”

* * *

S
hakara looked
steady until she turned toward the chamber doors, her eyes widening. Aron Grayson had slipped in right before the iron doors closed, which signaled the beginning of a parliamentary hearing. He made his late arrival and sauntered forward, staring daggers at both Shakara and my sister. With Morgon senses, Lucius seemed to hone in on him. I’m sure he caught the bastard’s scent the second he arrived. But Aron had more to fear from me than Lucius in my current state of mind. Aron was fortunate I trusted my friend Max to deal with him regarding his bodyguard. I also knew that if I dared to attack Aron personally, it could interfere with this hearing and the passing of this proposal. I refused to let that happen and give the damned man a moment of satisfaction.

Tennison cleared his throat, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he read aloud, “Proposal eight-one-nine-five—Unlawful Use of the Weapon Hydra G-66—proclaims the following. The Hydra G-66, also known as the Volt gun, is declared illegal due to its sole purpose of committing homicide against the Morgon people. The design of the Hydra G-66 is declared inhumane and discriminatory according to the Dixon Desegregation Act and is therefore unlawful.”

Murmurs arose in the room.

“
Quiet
,” commanded Tennison, eyeballing the audience. The buzzing voices settled, then he resumed reading the Proposal. “The Icewing Clan brings forth the nature of this weapon as a means to murder a race, rather than to be used for self-defense or in the sport of hunting. Because of this unlawful nature, the Icewing Clan request Parliament to enact a global ban of the weapon whereby all manufacturing and sales will cease and desist and owners will voluntarily forfeit their weapon to the state at the expense of Grayson Weaponry and Manufacturing. Close proposal.”

The buzzing had started again. Tennison whacked his gavel several times to quiet the room.

“Proposal eight-one-nine-five has been read. We will now begin with presentation of evidence from the Icewing clan. Ms. Asheera Icewing,” he read from another paper before glancing up, “will you begin, please?”

“Thank you, councilman.” Shakara’s aunt stood and walked purposefully to the podium that stood at an angle facing Parliament where the audience of officials could view her profile. She was a striking Morgon woman—white hair loose around her shoulders, stunning cat-like eyes that glowed an otherworldly blue, and a demeanor that demanded one’s attention. She paused and scanned the audience before resting her gaze on the Council.

“Morgonkind is a unique species. We are born with heightened senses, which we owe to our dragon DNA. We can smell the rain when only a whiff of cloud hovers in the far distance. We can see the hare hiding in the brush a field away. We can sense fear and excitement through the rapid heartbeat of someone standing near to us. We are
not
human.”

No one moved. Not a sound could be heard. Everyone seemed to hold their breath so as not to miss a word.

“And yet, we are human as well. We have human hearts with human longings, dreams, desires, fears, sorrows. Morgonkind is
born
this way. Half dragon, half human. And we cherish both sides of our nature.

“We are also born with an electrical current running through our frames like the blood that flows through our veins. It is an undeniable part of who we are as much as the wings that spring from our backs. The Hydra G-66 uses a high voltage of current to react to a Morgon’s DNA makeup.”

She clicked a remote control sitting atop the podium which flipped on a tall screen to the left of her. The screen remained white.

“The reaction of this high voltage when it hits its target is immediate and certain death, but not before a painful bolt of fire shoots through the Morgon’s body.”

She clicked. The audience gasped. Onto the screen popped the photo of a Morgon with gray wings sprawled on the ground, his mouth contorted in agony, blood streaming from his vacant eyes, black char along the exposed skin of his arms and neck, and his fingernails blackened.

She clicked again to a similar photo of an Icewing laid out on his back in a bar of some kind. Then another, a Huntergild. She clicked through three more, all the same depictions of horror and death.

My heart beat wildly, imagining such a fate for my Shakara—her delicate fingers and wings singed black, her green eyes lifeless and staring. I clenched my fists tight, fury pumping through me. There’s no way in hell this weapon could stay on the market. I’d never sleep another night, worrying that my love would become another victim of such a cruel death.

“These are the results of the Volt gun upon a Morgon. It cannot be used for the sport of hunting as the voltage would taint the game from one shot and render it inedible. It is a weapon designed for one goal only. Murder.”

The room buzzed feverishly. A man shouted above the rest from the audience, “But we need to protect ourselves from those animals!”

Tennison rapped his gavel three times hard. “
Remove
that man from this chamber at once.”

The human guard at the door immediately went to the row to escort the man out who grumbled and sneered at Tennison.

“I will have no one interrupt these proceedings. No. One. Am I understood?” When he glared at the audience, the voices died down. “Ms. Icewing, you may continue.”

She bowed her head slightly then said, “I would like to call my niece, Shakara Icewing, to continue with the presentation of evidence.”

“So be it,” said Tennison with a wave of his hand before scribbling notes.

My heart hammered in my chest as Shakara stood, tucked her wings in tightly to her back, and strode across the room. Her aunt gave her a smile as Shakara passed and then took a seat.

Shakara glanced at the sheet of notes her aunt must have left on the podium before facing the council. “What some humans know and some do not is that the Icewing clan is born with a specific ability, given to us by our dragon ancestry. We have the ability to heal. So it is no coincidence that it is the Icewing clan of all the Morgon clans who presents this proposal. Our entire clan holds the healing gene. It is not just a gift. It is our calling. It is who we are.”