Breath of Fire (30 page)

“It will be all right. They are confused, and your brother is making things difficult, giving them ultimatums. They don’t know who to follow.”

I squeezed his hand in answer to his reassurance, and I tried to keep my mind off of Erik. It just hurt too badly. I let my gaze wonder around the rest of the room.

The Romanians all wore the traditional clothing of their country. The women wore white peasant skirts and blouses with wraparound black aprons. They wore no adornments or jewelry. The married women in the clan wore white scarves to cover their hair. The men, who were far scarcer than the women, wore loose-fitting pants and shirts of white. They topped them with multicolored hand-woven vests of wool. The Romanians were in sad shape—their numbers were small and they looked hungry. They weren’t at all a healthy clan, in any aspect of the word.

Their Archos, Andres, stood proudly in front of them—a rigid man who was frozen for eternity as the picture of youth and vitality. It was common knowledge that his people were unable to breed. A Romanian child hadn’t been born in more than two thousand years. He stood defiant in front of his remaining family, ignoring the needs of his withering people and condemning them to extinction.

The Russians were a different matter. Their numbers almost rivaled Julian’s. Almost. The Russians had big problems. Lucian had been the warrior to form this clan. That part of the world had been vastly huge eleven thousand years ago, and he’d actually tried to start two different clans, hoping to stack the odds in his favor. He’d fathered hundreds of children in the lands that are now Russia and China, ruling over them both equally. But when he’d died, allegiances had been split. Both clans were considered equal in power, so there was no one who was strong enough to lead them both.

So while Milos was the true Archos
in Russia, there were many loyal to Feng in China, though the Council had never agreed to make Feng an official Archos. Feng hadn’t been invited to sit in on the meetings with Julian and the other Archos. But with Milos’ recent disappearance, Feng had very handily stepped in and taken charge of both the clans. Russia’s official color was white, and even those belonging to Milos should have been dressed in it. But instead they wore bright yellow. I could taste their fear, but there were none who were strong enough to challenge Feng.

Feng stood at the front of the group, a yellow silk suit covering his compact, muscled body. His ebony hair fell to his shoulders as straight as rain, and his eyes were as black as coals and framed by thick lashes. He was an inch shorter than my own five-foot-four, but his attitude more than made up for his lack of height.

If I’d thought Julian cold when I’d first met him, it was nothing compared to the expression on Feng’s face. Feng was going to be trouble. It didn’t take a psychic to figure that out.

I shivered as he held my gaze—there was a nothingness in the bleak depths of his eyes that terrified me. I could lose my soul in those eyes and never find my way back out. This man was cruelty itself.

Magic spilled across my skin and surrounded me, trying to seduce me with a flash of power that held no substance. It wasn’t familiar magic. And I knew it belonged to Feng.

My eyes narrowed at his audacity. I reached deep down for my anger and it flowed to the surface and rippled off my skin. His thin lips smiled at my attempt to get him to release his hold over me and he pushed his magic at me harder—not gentle at all this time. I gasped and took a step back to steady myself.

“Release me,” I whispered. The power of my words floated across the room and penetrated his shields. Feng was a child. Weak when faced with my psychic abilities. But Feng would not fight with honor.

His magic weakened and his brow furrowed in anger. He lashed out at me, but I was ready. I embraced the whip and slash of his power, much like I had with Julian, and I absorbed it. Feng’s magic tasted different than Julian’s had. It was bitter on the tongue—acidic.

Feng’s magic vanished, and he stood powerless, humiliated in front of the Drakán by a woman. A myriad of emotions crossed his face—disbelief, rage, jealousy. But last was fear. And my dragon fed on it. He made the sign of devil horns in his left hand and pointed it at me.

“You are a magic succubus,” he said. The words were spoken softly, but they covered the room like a blanket.

I’d never heard the term magic succubus, but I could tell by the stiffening in Julian’s shoulders that he had. The power to absorb others’ magic solely belonged to Julian because he was of royal blood. I’d only recently acquired the skill once my dragon realized that Julian belonged to her.

“The archives tell stories of others like you,” Feng spat. “You bring shame upon all the clans. Where do you really come from, Rena Drake? Have you sold your soul to the Shadow Realm? You are no Drakán with a power like that. You are evil incarnate and must be destroyed.”

“You overstep yourself, Feng,” I said. “I am the Enforcer. And I belong to Julian. You are no one. You belong to no one. And the people you’ve forced to follow you will cheer at your death. Remember your place.”

His gaze locked on mine, and I stared him down. My dragon knew she was stronger, and she was going to force him to submit to her. The room was focused on our struggle of wills, but it was Julian who forced Feng’s attention to be redirected.

“My lifemate can handle her own battles, Feng. But know that threats against her will bring the wrath of both our clans, for we are now united.”

Julian took my arm and we both turned our backs on Feng. The ultimate insult, for to give your back to a dragon meant you didn’t believe they were dangerous enough to worry about an attack.

Julian began the formal proceedings, even though he’d stripped the other Archos of their titles the day before.

“Welcome, Cale of the Éire and greetings to all of your people,” Julian said, bowing formally and speaking the old language. He was following protocol that hadn’t been used since the Banishment.

Eunice stood just behind me, and she translated for all of the newlings who had never heard the old tongue.

“Welcome, Andres of the Rumanus, and greetings to all of your people,” he continued. We turned in the center of the circle to face the next group. “Welcome, Feng of Ruskaya Zemlya, and greetings to the people of Milos. And welcome, clan of my lifemate and the followers of Alasdair.”

The tension in the room skyrocketed. Though Julian had greeted Feng, he had acknowledged him as a member of Milos’ clan instead of acting leader of the Chinese and temporary leader of the Russians. But Feng did not attempt to release his magic again. He’d learned his lesson for now.

“Our people are in a great time of need,” Julian said. “It is with hope and courage that you have all gathered together this day, for there is evil among us. The Destroyer must be stopped. Our people who still live must be returned, and those who are dead must be avenged. I have asked the impossible of you and here you are, standing before me. Now I ask another impossible task.”

He turned slowly and made eye contact around the circle. The room swelled with anticipation. But underneath it were the dregs of resentment and fear. Julian stood strong and straight. My chest surged with pride that my lifemate was a true warrior—as fierce as the Drakán warriors who had breathed life into all of our clans—a leader to so many people.

My dragon whispered inside my head seductively, saying how wonderful it would be if he were our true king. I fought the urge to agree with her. The Promised Child would be our true king, and I needed to remember it, no matter how good the greed of power felt.

“I ask that we combine forces and hunt for our lost people. That we combine magic and seduce the Destroyer with its power, because the magnitude of such power will be irresistible to him. You will all follow me into battle when the Destroyer is found,” he said with conviction. “You will follow me as one clan united, just as it was in the days of old—the days of the Realm of the Drakán.”

“And then what?” someone yelled from the crowd.

I gasped in surprise, because I knew that voice. Erik came forward until he stood facing Julian like a gunslinger at dusk. His skin was pale, and dark circles rested beneath his eyes. He seemed thinner than when I’d left home, his face more gaunt. His pain was obvious, and the impotence of his power seemed pitiful in a room full of those who judged a person’s worth by how much power they wielded.

“Erik. Don’t do this,” I said.

He’d been Alasdair’s only son for two thousand years before I’d been born. Alasdair had never been a loving parent to either of his children, but he hadn’t hated Erik. There’d been a bond between them that I’d never had. He was grieving for my father in his own way. But it was the wrong way.

My compassion for his situation was followed by frustration and anger. He shouldn’t have questioned Julian’s authority, especially since I’d already pledged our clan to join his. And he sure as hell shouldn’t have been contradicting my orders to the rest of the clan.

“Stand back, Rena,” he spat, not bothering to take his eyes from Julian. “I don’t answer to you. You’ve made your choice. I want our self-appointed leader to answer my question.”

The crowd grew restless, and I could feel the stirrings of inner dragons throughout the room begin to waken and become interested in the violence that lay heavy across the room. Tension and anger poured from Erik. He stood before Julian powerless, his grief-stricken face desperate for his cause.

I cast my power out around him to soothe. And to search. Erik was close to losing his battle with being powerless. He’d been one of the greatest generals to ever fight for the Romans, but he’d been nothing as a Drakán. And he was tired of being nothing. He wanted to die.

“Well, my lord?” he said. “I asked you a question. What happens when we follow you into battle? Do you have grand plans for uniting us permanently? Of forcing us to bend to your will and raping our minds as you did my sister’s? Your powers of persuasion must be great for her to turn traitor to us all.”

“Have a care,
castro
,” Julian said. “You are speaking of my lifemate. And brother or no, I will not stand for it.”

There were several gasps from the crowd, my own included. To be named
castro
was a terrible fate. To be named a
castro
meant that a Drakán had been castrated of his powers for displeasing the gods in some way.

“Call me what you will,” he said. “I speak the truth. She betrayed us all for greed. To increase her own power.”

“Would you not have done the same?” Julian asked. “It is our way. We are not a passive society. You have all forgotten what we used to be. Your human blood and human heart weakens you. I am strong, and the gods chose a mate for me who matched my strength.”

There were several thoughtful nods from some of the Ancients in the crowd. I stepped forward to deny the accusation. To assure my people that I hadn’t betrayed them because of power lust. Only because the gods had forced me to. But I stopped. I’d made a promise. I wouldn’t interfere or undermine Julian’s power in front of his people ever again. He wanted blind trust. And by gods he’d get it. We were in the middle of a volatile situation that could go from bad to worse if I chose now to open my mouth. Our immediate goal was to stay alive. I had the rest of eternity to hate Julian once that was accomplished.

Besides, Julian and I had already had this argument, and he knew exactly how I felt about having my choices taken away from me. I didn’t know why or how we’d ended up as lifemates, but he’d had to have been behind it somehow, knowing this moment when he could declare himself would come.

I stepped back and felt Julian mentally sigh with relief. I took my place back beside him, but I couldn’t bear to touch him just then. It wasn’t his family he was destroying with words and magic. It was mine.

“Has it not occurred to you all that we cripple our entire race by continuing our feuds?” Julian asked the room at large. “Instead of mating with each other we are forced to mate with pure humans who dilute our blood even more. How will the Promised Child ever come to pass if we continue on this way?”

“You cloud the issues with your talk of the Promised Child,” Erik shouted, turning the attention back on himself. “But I see through to what you really are. I have made peace that you and your lifemate would cause my death, but I will not cower and stand by while you destroy us all. You say that the Destroyer
is among us, a creature more powerful than we can imagine. But I say that it is you, Julian of the Belgae, who has already destroyed us all. I name you the Destroyer.”

The accusation lay like lead across the room, and then the room swelled with a whoosh of voices and frantic conversation. I felt the heat of fire as it burned angrily inside them and waited to break free. I glanced at Feng and saw he was smiling. We were making things very easy for him to step in and take over.

“Enough,” Julian called out. The whip of power crashed across my body without warning. Julian had been shielding against me, keeping his emotions and thoughts from me, and I hadn’t even realized it.

Erik went flying over the crowd and hit hard against the floor. The wood planks buckled under the force of his weight and the ground trembled as he hit, throwing everyone in the room off balance. I winced as I noticed one of planks of wood had splintered and pierced through his chest.

“I will not be questioned by the likes of you,
castro
, unless you wish to challenge me. I have called everyone together because I have the power to do so, and your clan has been promised to me through your sister. You dishonor her with your disobedience. The Destroyer is clever at disguising himself. You were a champion fighting for the humans. But you are useless to us here. Go home and leave this battle for those who can win.”