Fire of Stars and Dragons (25 page)

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Authors: Melissa Petreshock

BOOK: Fire of Stars and Dragons
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Cait huffs, irritation rolling off her in waves. “Then tell me, what is so damn special about having a bunch of dragons around? Because so far, it doesn’t sound like I have much to do with any of it.”

Claaron laughs. “Just wait. You will see.” And I must grab her arm before she picks something off the counter to throw at him.

“Caitriona, we are well aware this is quite difficult for you, but to tell you what is happening would affect every step you make, every reaction, every choice, and the way you approach everything as the change takes place, ultimately affecting the resulting outcome—who you are in the end.” Dante’s voice takes on a soft yet authoritative tone. “As you have already surmised, the woman you are in the end will be eternal, Caitriona. For you, all paths lead to the same destination; however, every path alters the scenery in the end and the eyes through which you view it.”

“Oh, my Goddess, at this rate I think my head may explode before I get there.” A shiver runs through her, and her eyes widen. “Did you feel that?”

“No. I’m afraid I…”

She bolts for the living room at a full run, throwing open the doors to the expansive garden balcony, and I believe Cait will fall into the pool before she veers toward the railing.

“Cait!” In a fraction of a second, I have her in my arms, fearing how near she came to heading over the edge in her hurry.

“I’m fine, Theo. What is wrong with you? There’s something out there.” She points up in the sky, and too far off in the distance for her human eyes to see, I spot Jaiteru approaching, barely visible in the clouds.

I look around to my brothers, eyes landing on Dante.
“She felt his arrival before any of us,”
I remark to them in Penfaeryn.

The demigod considers this for a moment.
“No. She has not changed enough yet. This is his doing. He sensed her and drew her closer, impatient to meet her.”

 

 

*Cait*

 

 

I don’t know why, but he’s not what I expected. He’s a considerably smaller dragon than Theo, though still large enough to be frightening if I were on the wrong end in the spectrum of souls. His body is the deepest sapphire blue, sleeker in his build than either Theo or Claaron, with scales reminding me of snakeskin, glistening in the sunlight as if covered in a fine dusting of gold. Two curved horns rise up from his head, blunt-tipped spikes running down the length of his body to his fanned tail, and like his razor-sharp talons, they’re pearl white and smooth surfaced.

Unlike the other dragons, he doesn’t shift in a shimmering way. Instead, a mysterious thick fog surrounds him, condensing into the form of a man who is strong, yet elegant, and uniquely fine-featured with a strange, ethereal beauty. He wears loose-fitting dark linen pants, a shade of midnight blue, if not black, and nothing else, upper body covered in an intricate weave of black vines tattoos, climbing up his neck and down his arms to his wrists, so old the lines aren’t sharp anymore.

No one says anything, waiting for him to make the first move, but he waits, eyeing me with an incredible, childlike curiosity before stepping toward me, his sun-kissed skin a startling contrast to his white hair.


On ga ae ocu
.” His soft voice is heavy with a thick accent I recognize from a documentary film I watched recently on Fae tribes in northern Asia.

Once we’re nose-to-nose, this dragon standing a few inches above my height, the unusual nature of his wide eyes are too striking to ignore, marbled Atlantic blue, unblinking as he keeps watching me. “It’s nice to meet you, Jaiteru.” I have no idea if that’s the correct response to whatever he just said.

Theo was right. Jaiteru Faerwyng is downright weird.

A broad smile spreads across his face, and he brings his hands together, palms and fingers flat, then lowers to his knees, bowing his head. “My eternal loyalty,
Nacgqo
.”

I glance over to Theo, who I’m sure is trying not to laugh. No one offers any help. I’m totally on my own with this. “That’s very sweet of you, Jai. Thank you.… And just call me Cait.”

Standing again, he’s still smiling, though less wide, more as if he has some secret no one else knows. “Fae believed. Now you are… Cait.” As his mouth splits into a broad grin, I swear this little guy is full of mischief.

“That right there,” I point at his grinning face, “earns you the rank of Smiley Dragon.” His smile broadens, and I shake my head. “Welcome to the dragon nuthouse.”

 

Chapter 17

 

 

*Theo*

 

 

“Are you even listening to me? You’re making all matter of racket over there.” Just for that comment, I drop a box full of Cait’s old dance trophies next to my GoSky on the desk, hearing Oliver yelp at the unexpected loud noise in his ear. He dislikes using speakerphone, which I greatly prefer. “What in Hades’s name was that?”

“Cait gave me her uncle’s former home office. For the most part, she cleared out everything but for the furniture; however, a few boxes of personal belongings remained, things she apparently did not know where to put. She told me to do with them what I like.” Pulling out a digital photo frame, I switch on the power to find a series of dance recital pictures featuring a very young Cait. “Greyson was clearly quite sentimental.”

“I cannot say I find that surprising, considering he did raise her. Not many vampires care for their human descendents in any manner, but one four hundred years down his bloodline and in her situation.… You’ve seen her file, Theo. Paternity unknown, sixteen-year-old mother overdosed on Faery salt. Lady Hayden was not a month old when Greyson adopted her. Incomprehensible.” The ever-stoic Oliver falls to a soft, pained tone while speaking of her history, though I daresay any dragon would, knowing who she is, to learn of her beginning, how blessed she is to live, how blessed
we
are.

“Yes. Cait has been Goddess-touched since birth to survive such an entrance into the world.” A photo comes across the screen of her dressed for ballet, ten years of age at most, executing a graceful Arabesque en Pointe. “She was a beautiful child.”

“She is a beautiful woman.”

“Indeed she is. I am quite fortunate.” I set the photo frame out on the desk beside a couple others I’ve found, one of school pictures, another of random candid shots. I like seeing her history, her personal evolution, watching her aging—something I’ve never experienced, and soon, something she no longer will.

“Do you say that as the dragon honored to call her your ward or as more? Has she made a decision of which I am unaware?”

I laugh at his forthright nature, given his position. “And do you ask me as the protector of the king or as a dragon, protector of the future the Goddess desires?”

“He nearly attacked me this morning, Theo. I fear at this point, I am protecting the rest of the world from him more than I am protecting Corrin.” My brother concerns me, sounding ever wearier each time I speak with him. “To make matters worse, it seems Z decided to involve himself. The Guard is overrun with elves loyal to his legacy’s faction.”

Sitting down at the desk, I unpack my belongings into its drawers, organizing the fresh origami paper Daniella purchased for me, reminding me of the need to discuss household staffing issues with Cait. “They cannot learn of any decision made, Oliver. It would place her in too great a danger.” There are many variables involving elves I do not care for, and Z’s legacy is quite old, predating the War of Two Hundred Nights and one of a small number of elfin legacies to survive our intervention.

“I may not yet be sworn into her service, but I will not endanger her. She is far too important to us all.”

That I do not doubt. Oliver values his honor and station in our existence too greatly to do anything that would cause him to fall out of favor with the Goddess. “She is mine, brother, and I shall not hesitate to put the boy down like the rabid dog he is should he make the slightest move to harm her.”

He remains silent for some time, and I continue organizing my things, knowing he will speak when he is ready. I daresay that after telling him of my essential intent to destroy his ward of a thousand years, Oliver finds reason to choose his next words with caution. “I gather Dante took the news rather well, considering the city has not experienced a sudden blackout or unexpected lightning storm,” he replies, opting to avoid conflict altogether.

“The days of his temperamental outbursts are long past, and given the circumstances, he finds no reason or purpose for ill will between us. Anyway, Jai’s arrival overshadowed the entire subject.” I move my bonsai tree yet again. Finding the right spot seems impossible. “You know how it is with him.”

“Hm.… Yes. How is she taking to Jaiteru? Does he unnerve her the way he does everyone else who meets our odd brother?”

“Quite the opposite. Cait’s rather taken by him, says he’s adorable. He earned a nickname within minutes of landing.”

“A nickname?” Oliver does not sound amused by the idea.

Laughing, I begin shelving my collection of books. “Oh, yes, brother. We all have them. You will get used to it. Consider it a show of her affection you have one.”

“I have one.” In low, flat words, he confirms his fear. “Please tell me you mean I will once she has time to better acquaint herself with me.”

“No. You have one.”

Silence. “At least tell me it has nothing to do with any of the adjectives she used to describe me last night.”

“I don’t know. Did she happen to mention anything about what a pretentious snob you are before I came out?” I ask, maintaining a manner of serious discussion.

“That’s rather judgmental. She barely knows me.” His tone entertains me to no end, the scowling expression he wears evident through the phone. “I can’t imagine what she must call Jaiteru.”

“Smiley. She calls him Smiley Dragon.” One box of books unpacked, I open the next, shelving these as well. For the first time in my existence, I do not feel as though I am settling into just another temporary place in life while guarding yet another ward. This location will not be forever, but we will be, Cait and I, making this a home—a
real
home.

“Well, we shall see how long that lasts. Give it time, Theo. I will gain Lady Hayden’s favor.” Overconfident. Typical Oliver. “For now, be thankful she does not find Jaiteru distasteful. With the elves intent on taking action, I advise you keep him near her.”

“I quite intend to. No one has her best interests at heart more than I, Oliver.” My reply is firm, finding offense in the fact he sees any need to give guidance in this matter. “And given Jai’s utter fascination with all things mystical, I believe keeping him adhered to her side will not be a difficult task.”

“Then I will see you at the Gilroy House. Do be careful, Theo,” he adds quietly.

“And you, Oliver.” I tap my GoSky, ending the call, knowing he is in more danger than either of us will admit aloud with a ward out of control, surrounded by elves bloodthirsty for revenge against dragons, and now alone.

 

 

***

 

 

Jai says little yet conveys much, facial expressions and body language speaking volumes, painting pictures of a thousand words in the smallest reactions to his surroundings. And he adores Cait to such a profound degree one might believe he loves her as if she were his own ward. She makes him most lively to observe.

“You know, now that you’re with me, you guys don’t have to wear those suits.” Cait’s commentary comes at random, departing from the limo at the Gilroy Children’s House for a regular visit she makes as a major benefactor of Evan and Runa’s pet project. A longstanding tradition of her uncle’s to come the day after the gala, she intends to uphold it whether I feel it is safe or not. “Jai isn’t wearing a stuffy suit.”

I refrain from telling her he claims they misalign his chakras. “He’s a nonconformist,” I remark instead, glancing over her head at my brother in his loose pants and sandals, though he did don a silk, mandarin-collared tunic… after I told him he could not remain shirtless in the city. No amount of explaining will force Jai to understand his tattoos do not accommodate a sense of public propriety here as they do among the Fae.

“Says the dragon who likes to wear ancient rock band t-shirts. What exactly
is
a Blue Oyster Cult, anyway?” She does this just to aggravate me, and I know it. We already discussed the topic for more than an hour this morning. “This is casual. You don’t see me dressed up, Theo. We’re here to see the children.”

“Of course.” Never would I fail to notice what she wears, especially when it consists of a pair of form-fitting leggings with black leather boots, though I can’t say the silvery shirt does anything for me, but it does help that I know exactly what is beneath it. “You look lovely regardless of what you wear. We, however, must maintain a measure of professional appearance when representing you at public functions, Cait.”

“She sparkles,” Jaiteru softly adds to the conversation, pointing to her shirt, smiling. “Like Claaron.”

While containing my laughter, Claaron’s eyes fix into a death glare. There is nothing he despises more than commentary on the way his frosty hair glistens in the sunlight. He would hurt me for saying less.

None of us would dare lay a finger on Jai.

“That’s why we call him Snowflake.” Cait false-whispers, a devilish grin on her lips while eyeing Claaron. “He’s pretty like snowfall in the sunshine.”

I believe she winks at him, adding fuel to the fire.

Liam makes a small noise behind us, trying not to laugh as well, and if we weren’t in public, our Graywyne brother would be laying into us for this.

“And like me.” Jai speaks more in any single conversation with Cait than we would get from him in a typical week. “Blue dragons sparkle in the sun. Like gold.” His eyes widen, waving a hand toward the sky.

“Yes, Smiley, you’re a prettier dragon than Snowflake.” He smiles at her, walking closer, content he is favored in Cait’s eyes, and as we enter the building, Claaron and Clifford holding the double doors for her, I do believe Snowflake is jealous.

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