Breath of Fire (11 page)

“I won’t betray my people, Rena. You of all people should understand the honor in that.”

I pulled back, feeling a prick of conscience that was rare with the Drakán. He was right. I couldn’t ask him to betray his people.

“I’m sorry,” I said. The words came out with difficulty. I wasn’t sure I’d ever uttered them before.

“Give me your phone,” he said.

I handed him my iPhone without a thought and watched with curiosity as he typed something into it. He handed it back and I stared at his information programmed into my address book.

“I don’t know what’s going to face you in Belgium, Rena, but I don’t have a good feeling about it. No matter where you are. If you need me, I’ll come.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but I’d probably be dead by the time you got to me.”

“I could be there faster than you think. Remember that and use the phone if you need me. You could even call to talk dirty if you wanted to. I’m not picky.” He pushed down on the accelerator and drove to the front of the house.

I wondered what grand plans the gods had in store for me. They’d given me the Destroyer and a man who wanted to love me all in the same day.

When the car stopped, I pushed the door open, ready to flee and get control over my emotions once again. But Noah put his hand on my shoulder to stop me. My body turned toward him voluntarily, almost as if I couldn’t help it.

“Rena.” It was all he had to say, and I leaned in to kiss him goodbye. It was a soft kiss, with none of the explosive passion we’d shared earlier, but it was just as potent. His fingers were hot on my skin, and I could feel my own temperature rising. My breasts were full and heavy with passion, and moisture pooled between my legs. The unspent desire from earlier in the evening was rushing to the surface, and the liquid fire that had filled us both with pain was beginning to streak down my body. I pulled away before things could get out of hand and the pain became unbearable.

The blue of his eyes glowed eerily and his teeth were clenched together to fight the pain. His breathing was erratic and the bulge behind his zipper had to be uncomfortable.

“Have a safe trip,” he said as he got himself under control.

I got out of the car on unsteady legs, and I didn’t look back as Noah drove away. I knew Erik was waiting for me on the porch, but I pretended he wasn’t there and opened the front door. I didn’t feel like facing the inquisition or any more judgments.

Erik followed me inside and closed the door behind us. “It must have been a hell of a date. You have sticks in your hair.”

“It wasn’t a date. It was business.” I walked up the stairs with every intention of ignoring him. I had to pack for a trip, which led me to the question, what was the correct wardrobe when you were going to meet your potential death?

“I found your Jillian. I thought you’d want to know,” he said, interrupting my thoughts.

It was the one thing Erik could have said that made me stop to pay attention. I turned around to face him, but he still stood at the bottom of the stairs.

“How did you find her?” I asked. “What clan is she?”

“She was in the database. She disappeared about two weeks ago, and her family put a notice up on one of the Drakán forums. She belongs to the Belgae.”

“What? Shit.” This was not what I’d been expecting. She was one of Julian’s. I wasn’t a big believer in coincidence.

“This could work to your advantage,” Erik said. “You now have a reason to show up in his lands unannounced without accusing him of anything and risking your death.”

“Did you find out anything else?”

“Nothing that makes sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“While you were gone I went to dispose of her ashes, and as I was sweeping them away I found two different places where silver had melted from her body and was re-hardening into discs. Each disc weighed exactly 5.995 grams.”

“So she had coins embedded in her skin. That’s not unusual.”

“No, but those were the only two pieces I found, and they just happen to be the exact weight of a silver half Shekel—the silver coins that Judas Iscariot received to betray Jesus.”

“So she was a traitor?”

“That’s for you to find out. I’m just a scientist.”

“You’ve never been just a scientist.”

Erik’s posture stiffened and he gave me a curt bow—every inch the Roman general he used to be—before turning on his heel and heading to his wing of the house. Erik’s moods changed with the winds, and I never knew if the things I said hurt or helped the way he felt about being powerless.

I put Erik out of my mind and fled the rest of the way up the stairs, my thoughts racing with possibilities. I didn’t know what Jillian had to do with the Destroyer, or what she’d done to deserve such a horrific death. But I knew I had to find him. And the best place to start was with Julian of the Belgae.

I had a plane to Belgium to catch. I just prayed to the gods that Julian gave me a chance to explain my reasons for crossing into his territory before he tried to turn me to ashes.

Chapter Eight

When the plane landed in Brussels, I uncurled my cramped fingers from around the armrests and leaned my head back against the cool leather of my seat. The nausea was slowly fading. My skin was clammy with sweat and my legs were shaking. If an enemy wanted to kill me, now was the perfect time to do so. I hated to fly.

The only flight I could get on such short notice had three connections, so I got to experience the pure terror of take off and landing three times as much as normal. My connecting flight from Heathrow to Brussels had been the last one of the day. The flight attendant had announced—in a chirpy voice that made me want to vomit down the front of her crisp white blouse—that it was after ten o’clock in the evening when the wheels touched down. 10:07 to be exact.

I restrained myself from dropping to my knees and kissing the ground as I walked through the terminal with my small carry-on wheeled bag and my purse. The airport was all but deserted—the grey walls dingier than they would have seemed in daylight—the kiosks more pathetic as they stood abandoned. I was starving, but all of the fast food places were already closed. The only thing that was still open was a small bar, about a hundred square feet of long countertop and cramped tables. It was dark on the inside. A neon
open
sign flickered in the front window, trying to decide if it wanted to go out completely. It looked like an oasis after the hell I’d just been through.

“Three fingers of whiskey, please. Neat,” I told the bartender. She tore her gaze away from her Kindle and looked me over from head to toe, obviously not impressed with what she saw. She handed me the drink and went back to her book. I knocked the whiskey back in two swallows, and finally felt warmth return to my body. The tension that squeezed along my spine and up to the base of my neck started to ease and I took my first deep breath.

I paid for my drink and turned to leave, but I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the front window. No wonder the bartender hadn’t been impressed. I wore a black pencil skirt and white silk blouse. The skirt was wrinkled beyond repair and torn at the hem, and a man had spilled coffee down the front of my blouse during my connecting flight to Boston. I’d already thrown my jacket in a trash bin because the shoulder seam ripped when it got caught in the turnstile at Heathrow. Not to mention I’d been selected for random security checks at all three airports.

I had an extra change of clothes in my carry-on, so I headed toward the restrooms. It would be a few minutes before my checked luggage came through, so I’d have time. My heels clicked in rapid staccato against the tile floor and echoed against the space that surrounded me. Everything was too still. Warnings surged inside my mind, and the exhaustion that had taken over my body from the long trip flared into pure adrenaline.

My steps quickened, and I resisted the urge to rub warmth into the pebbled flesh on my arms. Power was a physical rush, and the greater a person’s power, the larger the circle it cast out. The airport wasn’t crowded, but the people who were there all began to slow. Their movements stilled completely until they all stood frozen in time—a lifelike snapshot they’d never remember. It was surreal moving between the fleshy statues. I’d never before seen anything like it.

My dragon senses were rioting inside me, and I began to run.

“Rena Drake. Come.”

I looked over my shoulder. There was no one there. The voice wasn’t low or high, but the language it was spoken in was unmistakable. Only the oldest of our kind still used the language of our lost civilization. My father and Calista both still used it. I knew how to speak it because it was required as Enforcer—just like it was required to speak the native languages of all five of the clans. But the old language was power in itself.

I couldn’t transform into a dragon, but just because I couldn’t make the change on the outside didn’t mean my dragon wasn’t inside me. And she let herself be known with a vengeance as the old language was spoken. The words called her, and she writhed beneath my skin as she tried to follow orders like an obedient soldier. It took all my willpower to put one foot in front of the other and not succumb to the seduction of that immense power.

Julian had sent a telepath as strong as I was to greet me. Maybe even stronger. Other than Calista, I wasn’t even aware that someone like this existed. Was she an Enforcer? This was a question I was sure as hell going to ask.

But for whatever reason, Julian had sent her for me. And it wasn’t a good sign. Even in times of war there were rituals to be upheld, and I’d assumed Julian would follow tradition. I’d fully expected a ceremonial greeting as soon as I’d gotten off the plane. Stupid me.

“Halt. And come to me.”

My feet stopped moving before I could control myself, but I didn’t turn around. I kept my breathing calm and slowed my heart rate so my powers would be more effective. I didn’t know how the voice had penetrated my shield. No one had ever been able to breach it before. Not even Calista.

I built the layers, brick by brick, in my mind so the wall was higher and stronger than ever. Chants for protection rolled off my tongue as I effectively shut out the voice. I gained control of my feet and broke into a run, veering my course from the restrooms to the outside of the airport. I needed to put as much distance between us as possible.

The walls of protection I’d built so carefully exploded behind my eyes. Shards of power stabbed at my skull like thousands of needles, and I hunched over, grasping the sides of my head with my hands to contain the pain. Nausea rolled in my stomach. My vision went black. I couldn’t tell if I was still standing or if I was horizontal on the ground.

“Come to me, Rena. I will not harm you. Yet.”

I wanted to scream out, to fight back. To do something. But I couldn’t. The power grew, and I knew whomever the voice belonged to was getting closer. My vision came back and the nausea ebbed. I was still standing. Yippee. My panic escalated as my feet refused to move. My heart pounded harshly in my chest until I thought it might explode from the exertion. I was a sitting target for whoever was coming my way, and no matter how I tried to escape the one controlling me, I couldn’t budge.

I gathered my courage and turned to see who had enough power to render my body useless. I had to look up—way up—to see the face of the woman who had power over me. In her eyes I saw death. She was close to seven feet tall. Her skin was the darkest ebony and her eyes were as black as a starless sky. Skinny braids framed her face and trailed down her back. She was dressed in black leather—a three-button vest that displayed muscular shoulders, pants that looked as if they’d been sewn on like a second skin, and boots that laced in a crisscross pattern up the sides and ended just above the knee.

She was an Ancient, and her power could kick my ass. If Julian had clan members this strong then I was afraid to witness his power. I needed to get as much distance between us as possible and give myself time to think. Julian had obviously decided to dispense with all proprieties and call for all-out war. I’d be glad to accommodate him. Just as soon as I spoke to the remaining Council members to see how they wanted to proceed. It would probably take a small army for us to take someone of his abilities down.

But first things first. I had to break her hold over me.

What I planned to do wouldn’t feel good. In fact, it would probably hurt worse than when she’d broken my shields earlier. But I was left without a choice. I slowed my breathing and drew in every ounce of power I had. It gathered in my stomach and pulsed in time with my dragon fire. This fire wasn’t hot like it was when I was angry. This fire was cold—the color in my mind eerily green when I pictured it—and my flesh pebbled even as sweat gathered at my temples from the concentration it took to maintain it in such a focused space.

The warrior woman came closer and tried to speak to me again, but I didn’t hear what she said. I couldn’t wait any longer. With a scream of torment I shoved all my power and the hold she had over me back at her. I pushed it with a vengeance I didn’t know I had. I stumbled as I felt it hit the solid wall of her body. She gasped in surprise, but she didn’t falter. I’d done what I’d set out to do. I was free of her. For now.

I ran through the sliding glass doors of the airport, where the world was no longer frozen in time, and hopped in the back of a waiting taxicab. I shoved an undetermined amount of money at the driver who stared at me in horror.