Breath of Fire (6 page)

There were only three who’d gained the power of Enforcer through the millennia since the human blood first tainted our race—Calista, me and Cal. Alasdair was the Archos of our clan, a son of one of the original warriors and the most powerful of our dwindling numbers, but the gift had passed him over.

We hated each other, and I would have left long ago—I’d tried on many occasions—but Alasdair always hunted me down and brought me back, usually broken and bloody. As Enforcer, I was a useful tool for Alasdair. When clan members became too powerful he liked for me to invade their minds and make them loyal to him, so they’d never try to challenge him for his position as Archos. I did it for him when I had no other choice, but I’d gotten pretty good over the last century or so of avoiding Alasdair whenever possible.

“Come inside,” I told her. “I’ll find you some clothes. Alasdair isn’t going to be pleased to see you.”

“He already knows I’m here. We’ve got trouble, Rena. I’ve seen it.” Her voice was strong and made the hairs on my arms stand up. Calista was the most powerful psychic I’d ever known, so if she said we had trouble I believed her.

“What kind of trouble?”

“We’re all going to die,” she said, and then turned her back and walked calmly into the house, leaving me in the rain with my mouth hanging open in shock.

Chapter Five

After the initial surprise of Calista’s bombshell, I disposed of the bodies on the front lawn. I didn’t think Special Agent Ford would appreciate the carnage lying in the gardens. I tossed everything I could find into our incinerator—one that Erik had tweaked so it burned at the same temperature as dragon’s fire—and I twisted the dial to the highest setting, taking no chances that they might survive.

The day was starting to catch up with me, and it felt as if bags of sand had replaced my bones. I went to check on Calista, the numbness in my legs growing so it was a struggle to put one foot in front of the other. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was terrified of the vision she’d seen or because my body was more hurt than I’d thought. I looked down and saw the odd angle of my knee and figured that, at least, explained the numbness.

Calista lounged across the couch, the paleness of her naked body a drastic contrast to the blood red of the sofa. Her body was eerily still, a Drakán trait that only the most Ancient of our race could truly master, and the only sign of life I could see was the tumbler of whiskey she held in a white-knuckled grip.

I went to my quarters and showered quickly, turning the water to blisteringly hot so my aches and pains would heal faster. I dressed quickly in jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt and pulled my wet hair back in a clip, not taking the time to dry it. I then went in search of clothes for Calista. I knew from experience if I didn’t bring them to her she’d just walk around the house naked.

Calista used to live with us, and there was still a trunk of her things upstairs after her abrupt departure. She’d been the Enforcer for our clan before I took over the job. I’d been in the middle of my training when Alasdair had decided to propose a new law to the Council stating that as Archos and head of the family, he should receive a certain percentage of his clans’ hoards. Calista didn’t take the news well, because everyone knew that Calista’s hoard was one to be envied—filled with gold and jewels and priceless artifacts.

Calista confronted Alasdair with his treachery and the ensuing fight left our lair in shambles. Some of the walls had been completely destroyed and all of the furniture had been turned to smoldering piles of ash. Blood had slicked the floors for days. But what sent Calista over the edge was when Alasdair tried to breach her magic and break through the shields that surrounded her hoard.

She’d renounced her pledge to serve Alasdair as her Archos, breathed one last impressive stream of fire in his direction, and then flown off into the night. It became obvious pretty quickly that she wasn’t ever coming back. Her hoard was suddenly gone the next day, and all that was left was a single trunk of her things. Erik and I were left to clean up the mess of our lair while Alasdair went on a hunting spree to quench his thirst for violence.

None of us knew where Calista had gone, and Alasdair and I couldn’t track her because she knew how to hide her scent and guard her mind against us. The only contact I’d had from her had been a formal letter, giving up her title as Enforcer and passing it on to me. She said she no longer cared to protect her people from being discovered. She only cared to protect herself and her hoard.

So I grudgingly stepped into the role of Enforcer, even though I was far from being ready. Cal had still been a child at that point, and I was the only other choice. Drakán law stated that as long as another Enforcer was available to take their predecessor’s place, then an Enforcer could forfeit their position without punishment. And no one could find Calista to try to talk her into keeping the job.

Hell, sometimes I still thought I was far from being ready. My baser dragon powers had never developed like they should have—the abilities to shift, fly and breathe fire. All I had was my strength and the ability to control minds—which granted, was a pretty powerful gift, but I’d always been a little pissed I couldn’t breathe fire.

I grabbed a loose black caftan and a pair of matching slippers out of the trunk for Calista, and I used the intercom to contact Erik.

“Calista’s here,” I said.

“What?” Erik’s voice held surprise and a little bit of suspicion. “Does Alasdair know?”

“She said he knows she’s here, but I don’t know if he was expecting her. She just kind of appeared out of nowhere.”

Erik grunted. “Do you need me?”

“Yes. We’re in the study. And on your way find Alasdair and bring him along.” I disconnected and left the room so I wouldn’t have to hear his response. I wasn’t quite ready to deal with Alasdair, and Calista being here wasn’t going to improve his mood.

Calista hadn’t bothered to wrap herself in one of the numerous blankets that were placed around the room. She stood at the bar, naked as a baby, drinking another whiskey, and I rolled my eyes before I could control it. None of the Ancients had problems with nudity. I, however, still wasn’t used to it, even after all these centuries.

“I brought you some of your old things,” I said.

She held out her hand without looking at me, and I placed the clothes in it. “This place hasn’t changed much,” she said. “I still hate it.” She slipped the caftan over her head and knocked back the rest of the whiskey like it was water. She walked over to a club chair angled next to the fireplace, sat down and pulled on the slippers. “Bring me another whiskey, Rena. It’s cold out.”

I did as I was told. I wasn’t sure how I should act with Calista, or why she was even there. I felt a kind of responsibility toward her that people of my race don’t often have—caused by the human in me, no doubt. We’re predators by nature. Solitary creatures who stay within our immediate family circle forever. There’s loyalty toward the clan, as long as it doesn’t interfere with our basic wants or needs.

I never had a mother growing up. I didn’t know my biological mother’s name or what happened to her (though I’d always suspected Alasdair killed her), but my earliest memories were of Calista. She was the one who raised me and schooled me. She and Erik had been the only two people I’d had much contact with when I was a newling—and Calista only spent the time with me because it was her duty to find and train the next Enforcer, just like I was doing with Cal. Since the ability of Enforcer was contained to only our clan, it wasn’t difficult to find those who had the power. When we had our yearly gathering, everyone’s powers were observed for any signs of rare Drakán abilities—especially the ability of mind control.

“Alasdair is angry with you,” Calista said. “I can feel the heat of his rage at your defiance. You smell of human.”

I kept my face blank of emotion as I reached out with my senses to see if she spoke the truth. It took all my control not to flinch at the scalding burn of his anger.

“I did what was right,” I said. “The Drakán children were my concern, and they were being poorly treated. Our clan needs their strength.”

“Don’t lie to me, Rena. The pity you feel for all of them reeks from your pores. If you keep defying your father he will eventually let go of his control completely and convince the Council to lift the ban on our safety. If that happens, he will kill you. And he’ll have just cause.”

“I will continue to do what I see fit, Aunt Calista. I know exactly what I am, no thanks to you, and I’ll keep damning you all to the Realm of the Dead until we change our ways and become a thriving society. We’re as good as dead if we continue on the same path.”

Her eyes darkened in anger, and I waited for her attack, but she stayed seated. There was no point at being angry with Calista. She’d dumped this job on me and left without a goodbye for her own self-preservation. I understood exactly how she’d felt. Living with Alasdair wasn’t easy. Sometimes I wished I could move out and just disappear—live a life of solitude with the possessions I held most dear, much like Calista was doing—but until our antiquated laws were changed or Alasdair was killed, I was stuck here. Besides, my human conscience wouldn’t let me leave Cal unprepared to face misbehaving dragons like Calista had done with me.

“Open the drapes. The rain soothes me,” she said.

“What are you doing here, Calista?” I asked tiredly. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t have time to deal with this. I’ve got to get out of here.”

“You will deal with this. And you will listen carefully. Now open the damned drapes.”

I fumed silently as I walked to the heavy red drapes and pulled them aside. Grey, watery morning light barely penetrated the gloom of the study. It wasn’t a room I spent a lot of time in, being much more suited to Alasdair’s tastes than mine—the furniture was large and ornate, the fabrics lush and expensive, the paintings fussy. A stone fireplace dominated one entire wall. There were no family heirlooms or mementos. Alasdair didn’t believe in them.

In addition to the bloodshed that had happened between Alasdair and Calista, there had also been futures predicted. She’d scared the hell out of Alasdair with her visions, even though he would never admit it, and he’d wounded her badly in retaliation. I knew her coming here meant circumstances were dire. And despite her proclamation of only caring about her hoard, she must still feel some loyalty to her clan or she wouldn’t be here. I took a calming breath and prayed to the gods for patience.

Tension was high—mine and Calista’s—with the promise of Alasdair’s arrival. Awareness suddenly filled my body, and the fine hairs at the nape of my neck stood on end. The fire in the hearth disappeared to red embers, and the chill in the room was immediate. Alasdair always did like to make an entrance.

“Show yourself, Alasdair,” I called out.

He appeared in the chair across from Calista. His legs were crossed and a tumbler of whiskey was held loosely in his hand—a man who looked to the world as if he didn’t have a care. His expression was pleasant unless you looked in his eyes—they were red-rimmed, his fire smoldering just behind them—a sure sign of his anger. And then he looked at me, and I knew I’d be lucky to leave the room in one piece.

Erik came into the room the normal way and bowed over Calista’s hand before taking his place beside me at the hearth. He put himself between me and Alasdair and squeezed my hand in silent apology for his earlier behavior.

My father was a handsome man. To humans who could only see the surface he appeared to be in his early forties. His hair was jet black and silvered at the temples. His body was lean and muscled, and his eyes like grey storm clouds—so much like mine it sometimes hurt to look at them. He never wanted for the attention of women, but despite the many who’d shared his bed, Erik and I were his only offspring.

“Why have you darkened my door, Calista?” he asked. “Shall I punish you for returning to my home at the same time I punish Rena for freeing my potential mate? I’ve always enjoyed spilling your blood, though not as much as I enjoy spilling Rena’s.”

I felt a hot breeze pass in front of my body and a quick slash of pain. The left sleeve of my shirt was in tatters and blood splattered steadily to the floor. Speed was one of Alasdair’s gifts. He was impossible to visually track, and it was why no one had ever been able to defeat him in a duel. I could tell from the bloodlust in his eyes that he was toying with me.

Calista ignored his taunt and licked her lips at the blood that pooled at my feet. My expression stayed blank, and I didn’t move a muscle, not wanting to tempt the beasts in the room by showing weakness.

Alasdair stood against the far wall, his posture relaxed and his gaze taunting. His hand had transformed into sharp talons, and my blood coated the knifelike claws. The hot breeze passed by me again, and I couldn’t help the growl of pain that escaped from my lips. I looked down my body and saw the damage to my thigh. The skin hung in tatters, and the sheen of bone glimmered white between the pink of useless muscles.

“Leave her be for now, Alasdair,” Calista commanded. “There is time for play later. I am here for a purpose.”

Alasdair didn’t take his eyes off me. “We are not finished, Rena. You will pay for what you’ve done. And don’t think to try to escape my wrath. I will just hunt you down, though the chase does make things more interesting.” He moved in the blink of an eye and sat back across from Calista. The tumbler of whiskey back in his now-human hand. “Tell us why the hell you’re here, Calista, and then get out of my lair.”