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Sapphires the color of the deepest part of the ocean were embedded in her human skin. This only happened to those dragons who slept on top of their hoard in human form. It’s why we were never able to wear jewelry—our human forms absorbed the jewels just as our dragon forms did. It was just another way for us to keep our treasures close.
The female hoarder stood in the center of the group, slightly in front. Two other males—one as dark as onyx, the other as pale as buttermilk—flanked her left side. Their power was minimal. The last male was almost as old as the female. But not quite. The only difference was his clothes were pristine, his face calm, while dried blood and mud covered the others. This male stood in the rain eerily still, his dark hair plastered around his face and his eyes knowing. He gave me a slight bow with his head, and it was then I knew he had psychic abilities—pitiful as they were. He was practically an open book. But I could use him.
It was situations like this one where I thought our laws kind of sucked. I couldn’t kill them just because I knew they’d killed one of our own. Legally, I had to file a warrant with the Council and wait for it to go through. The only way I could kill them today was if they moved to attack me first.
“You guys are pretty far from home,” I called out.
“And your welcome is quite disappointing.” It was the female who spoke. Her accent was thick and Slavic.
I cast my psychic power from my body and read them all quickly. The woman was obviously from the Russian clan, but what had me worried was that the other members of the ragtag group were representing three other clans—the Romanians, the Belgians, and the Irish. Our clans had been feuding since the Banishment, and I had no idea why they were working together without animosity now. They thought of themselves as a unit—a family. And for some reason, I couldn’t siphon the reason they’d joined together from their minds. All I could read was that they needed me, and if I didn’t cooperate, then I had to die.
“You made a mistake last night,” I said. “You shouldn’t have killed her. And you definitely shouldn’t have been stupid enough to leave enough of her body behind so I could find her. Now I have to kill you.”
The brawler to my left laughed thin and high, and the insanity of it raised chills on my arms. “You think you can kill us, Enforcer? You’re outnumbered. And we have powers you could only dream of.”
It was my turn to laugh. “I don’t think so. You’re the pawns. Who’s your Master? None of you has the power to breathe fire.”
The brawler took a step forward, his anger making him stupid.
“Bartolomé,” the female said harshly. “Stand down and follow orders.” Bartolomé stepped back, but he didn’t like it.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“I’m here to ask you to join us,” the female said. “When the time for battle comes, you don’t want to be on the losing side.”
“And let me guess, it would help to have a psychic with my abilities on your side to even the odds a little.”
“It would,” she acknowledged.
“You already have a psychic,” I said, gesturing to the quiet male with them. “You don’t need me.”
“Christos’ powers are dimmed in comparison to yours. Your mind is virtually untouched. Unexplored. Our Master can help you. You’ll be one of the most powerful Drakán to walk the Earth.”
“You still haven’t told me your Master’s name.” I was stalling. It was hard to ignore the rush that the promise of so much power would bring me. My dragon nature wanted to take their offer and never look back. The human in me kept a more level head. “I’d like to know who I’m working for.”
“His name is unimportant. You only need to know that there is no other of our kind who holds more power. He will be king.”
“Tell your Master his arrogance looks like ignorance when he sends five children to the house of Alasdair. You are all foolish for following someone who holds so little value over your lives.”
They all moved at once, closing the half circle they’d formed as they pressed in on me. My finger tightened on the weapon I held. I knew I’d get no help from my family for this battle. Erik wouldn’t know we were under threat unless they broke into the house, Cal was probably asleep, and Alasdair would never help me. He would probably dance on my ashes if I died.
“Our Master will not like to hear your decision,” the female said. “Maybe we can change your mind.”
I waited patiently. All it would take was one of them to lose control. “You’re all traitors to your Archos. No better than cowards.”
Bartolomé growled low in his throat and rushed me, his hands shifting into sharp claws. It was all the excuse I needed. I pulled the trigger of the crossbow and watched as he crumpled to the ground with a howl of pain.
The cold numbness took over my mind as I faced Christos—the other psychic—and enveloped him in my power. The others didn’t get a chance to react. Christos turned and faced the remaining three, his eyes wide with fear. The others looked at him in confusion. He wasn’t in control of himself anymore. He belonged to me. He pushed his arms out into the empty air in front of him, and his friends went flying backward toward the trees. The dark-skinned male hit against a tree so hard that the base of it cracked in two, the echo deafening as it toppled to the ground.
“Kill them both,” the female screamed.
I came at them with a vengeance. I was going to get hurt, but I was going to take as many as I could down with me. The female came up on me fast, her fists a blur as she struck at me, but I was able to dodge the blows. Something grabbed me from behind, and I struggled against the tight grasp fiercely. I didn’t see the female strike, she was too quick, but I felt the sudden pain in my chest. Something inside me tore—muscle and cartilage that ripped away from bone. If someone hadn’t been holding me in place I would have crashed into the side of the house. My vision grayed, and my heart stuttered.
Despite the damage to my body, I knew I had to think or die. A calm overtook me, and I sent waves of pain, as fierce as knives, into the one who had me trapped in his arms. He let go of me and dropped to the ground, clutching his head between his hands.
The rain sizzled off my skin so steam rose in a cloud around me. I was in a rage. And now I was through playing. Christos was no longer any use to me. His head lay detached from his body a few feet away, his eyes still panicked and his mouth opening and closing as he gasped for air that wasn’t there. The two that were left moved closer together and turned to face me. I didn’t have time to reload the crossbow, so I threw it to the ground.
I charged with a blur of speed at the dark-skinned male. My hand shot out, and I felt the give of flesh as I pierced through skin, muscle, and bone. My fingers ripped out his heart, and I held the pulsing organ in my hand and squeezed it to dust. He collapsed at my feet, but his friend took the opportunity to tackle me to the ground.
