Read Dragon Knight (The Collegium Book 3) Online
Authors: Jenny Schwartz
Dragon Knight (The Collegium Book 3)
Dragon Knight
Jenny Schwartz
Dragon knight Gina Sidhe serves Earth’s only resident dragon, and she’s been issued with a quest. She must return with Lewis Bennett, president of The Collegium (the world’s magical order of peacekeepers), so that he may learn the Deeper Path of Magic from the dragon. A path that has been denied to Gina, and one she desperately wants.
But Lewis isn’t interested. He knows his magic has gone, burned out amid a terrible tragedy. Which makes his current task all the harder. He must restructure and repurpose The Collegium in the wake of a shocking and sly demon attack. He doesn’t have time for Gina’s quest, until she offers him the one thing he can’t have: a hidden route out of his Collegium life.
Because Lewis has his own quest, one secret and lethal, to save the world from a threat no one else believes in.
Table of Contents
Family favors can only get you so far. Gina Sidhe had used her great-uncle’s name to achieve an appointment with the Collegium’s new president, but how she used that twenty minutes would decide the success or failure of her quest.
She’d prepared diligently.
It hadn’t been easy to research President Lewis Bennett without alerting his rabid protection squad, the famed Collegium guardians whom he’d once served with and directly commanded. After the debacle of a month ago when the Collegium discovered that a demon had infiltrated its highest ranks, possessing the former president’s personal assistant (and rumored lover), everyone in the Collegium was on high alert.
Gina smiled at the personal assistant stationed in the outer office of the presidential suite. “Gina Sidhe, I have an appointment with President Bennett.”
The man assessed her. He wasn’t a typical PA. He was too lethal, his body honed to a fighter’s fitness and his magic sparking the tiniest warning.
Chad Price. Gina’s research had been thorough. She recognized the guardian bodyguard. Two other desks, empty at the moment, showed how a trio of guardians rotated the duty of personal assistant and security detail between them. Gina knew their names, too: Haskell Mondo and Shawn Johnson.
She waited as Chad scrutinized her. He’d find nothing to suspect. Her cover was solid. She was a junior member of the Sidhe family, famous for their hotels and their house witchery. She let her magic swirl gently, sending the message that she wasn’t a threat. Her business was mundane. She freelanced as a software consultant. As far as Chad knew, she was simply here, in New York, delivering a message from her great uncle. She hoped that her expression was appropriately faintly bored; that of a woman honoring a family request. Just as this appointment with President Bennett was Lewis Bennett honoring the favor he owed Uncle Asey.
“One moment.” Chad stood and walked to the closed door of the inner office. He knocked, received permission, and opened the door. Holding it for Gina wasn’t politeness. If she tried to attack President Bennett, Chad would be right there.
She walked across the room, conscious of her hips swaying thanks to the high heels she wore and how the cut of her navy-blue suit emphasized her figure, while the color contrasted dramatically with her long red-gold hair. Not that she wore her hair down. No, her hair was neatly confined in a chignon. She wanted the guardians to note her attractiveness, but not leap to the conclusion that she was trying to seduce their president.
They just had to believe it was possible.
She reached the doorway. “Thank you.” She walked past Chad and into the office.
Lewis Bennett stood behind his desk and everything in the room faded into the background. Jacket off, tie unknotted, shirt sleeves rolled up, dark blond hair too short to be anything but tidy, Lewis was impressive. Broad shoulders were well-muscled. So were his forearms and chest. His dark brown eyes mesmerized. His mouth was perfect, lips neither thin nor too full, but masculine and stern.
She’d seen his photo, read his history, but nothing had prepared her for the man.
Keep walking. Remember to breathe.
Maintaining eye contact was not an issue: she couldn’t wrench her gaze away.
Behind her, Chad closed the door.
They were alone.
Lewis walked around his desk, meeting her just in front and to the side of it. “Good afternoon, Ms. Sidhe.”
As the child, grandchild and great-grandchild of hoteliers, politeness had been drilled into Gina at an early age. She held out her hand. “Good afternoon, President Bennett. Thank you for your time.” Her voice was cool and evenly modulated, but the clasp of his hand sent shudders of delight splintering through her body.
This had to stop. The cascade of sensual awareness was drowning her.
She had five inch heels on, which brought her to six foot. Lewis was still taller. She tipped her head back to smile at him.
No answering smile in his dark eyes. No obvious response. He released her hand. “Please, sit down.” He indicated the small seating arrangement to the left of his desk, close to the door.
Her house witchery instincts stirred. The layout of the office was defensive. The low armchairs around a coffee table provided a buffer between the door and Lewis’s desk, but respected his sightline to ascertain who entered. Another door was cut into the far wall, providing a second exit or escape route. She wouldn’t risk a scan, but she’d bet that the windows behind the seating arrangement and his desk were not only bulletproof, but magic-repelling. The furniture was uninspired modern Scandinavian in beech and shades of light gray and blue. A television hung on the wall, but was switched off.
Lewis waited till they were seated, her with her back to the door through which she’d entered, him with his back to the window, the light somewhat concealing his expression by silhouetting his body. “You said you had a message from Asey?”
“Yes.” She smoothed her skirt, then stilled her hand, regretting the nervous gesture as Lewis tracked it. “Uncle Asey asks that you listen to me.”
If Lewis was going to throw her out, now would be the time.
His faintly shadowed face showed no expression. “I’m listening.”
Her breath released in a near-silent sigh. That must have been some favor Uncle Asey had done for Lewis.
What favor could a Boston dentist of small magic do a guardian?
Uncle Asey hadn’t been willing to say.
“I would appreciate it if you held what I said in confidence, but that is your decision.” Her pulse steadied. At least the wild flare of attraction she’d felt for him was coming under control. Call it a low simmer, one diminishing for lack of response from him.
Disconcerting thought: was he accustomed to women responding as she had to his presence? Was he used to downplaying his attractions and disconnecting?
He didn’t have a partner. She’d confirmed that information in her research; yet her gaze strayed to his hands, double checking that the long, strong fingers were bare of a wedding ring. His nails were blunt cut, clean but not manicured. They were hands to hold an ax, steer a boat, shape a spell—or love a woman.
She cleared her throat. The curse of her red-head’s pale skin was that she blushed easily. Now, was not the time. She focused on Lewis’s face and made her tone as cool and assured as possible. “I am here in my role as a dragon knight. It’s an inherited position within my father’s family. Sidhe have been serving the dragon, Morag, since the seventeenth century.”
As narrowly as she observed him, she couldn’t detect even the faintest twitch of disbelief. And there should have been one. Dragons were mythological creatures; by definition, unreal. She paused for him to question or comment, or kick her out of his office and berate her Uncle Asey for letting her use his name to gain admittance.
But whether Lewis thought her delusional to believe herself in service to a dragon, he remained silent.
Subconsciously, she’d counted on some reaction, and the lack of it was like running headlong into a brick wall. After a moment of echoing silence, she picked up her story, grateful that she’d rehearsed her speech and fluency came from rote recitation. “In truth, while we call Morag a dragon, that’s simply a name she chose for herself, one undoubtedly selected to calm my ancestors centuries ago. In fact…” Deep breath. Momentous declaration. “Morag’s an alien.”
Still
nothing from Lewis.
Nerves quickened her speech. “My family’s house witchery helps keep Morag comfortable. In turn, she provides those of us who achieve clarity of sight with training in the Deeper Path.”
Finally, he spoke. “What is the Deeper Path?” His voice was level, low and as controlled as everything else about him. It gave no clue as to whether he believed her, or merely honored a favor owed to her uncle Asey.
But he was acute. Truth or delusion, the Deeper Path was the heart of the matter.
It was her dream and her nightmare. She wanted desperately to journey the Deeper Path, but whenever she tried for the clarity of sight required to embark on it, she flinched. Now, she struggled not to reveal her resentment to Lewis, who had achieved unwittingly her dream of clarity of sight.
It wasn’t his fault that this quest from Morag was salt in the wound of Gina’s frustrated ambition; that the invitation being extended to him should have been hers.
Her fingers curled, nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms. “Clarity of sight is the requirement for entering the Deeper Path. A human mage has to burn out their magic to attain it.”
His silhouette stiffened.
Such a tiny break in the even rhythm of his breathing, but she’d been watching him closely.
Her words had struck him hard.
I knew this would be awful.
But she’d known it theoretically. Sitting across from Lewis and obliquely mentioning his heartache cut cruelly. It even cut through her own emotional turmoil.
The circumstances of how he’d burned out his magic were common knowledge in the magical world. People spoke in awe of his discipline. He had saved over two hundred lives, all of the crew and passengers of a cruise ship being crushed by an ice storm in the North West Passage. He’d held back the sea ice till the storm ended: literally driven it back although he wasn’t a weather mage, and he had done so beyond the limits of his magic. The effort had eroded his magic, and with it, his identity as a powerful mage.
People’s awe was mixed with pity.
To lose one’s magic was to lose your identity.
Except, Lewis hadn’t. Through sheer force of personality, he’d returned from the Canadian north to continue as commander of the Collegium guardians. Captain Lewis Bennett hadn’t allowed anything to prevent him serving.
That was the Collegium’s motto,
Serviam. I will serve
. They kept the world safe from magical threats: rogue mages, wild events and demons.
A month ago, when a demon had been evicted from its sly position in the heart of the Collegium, Lewis had been chosen to clean house. The vote among the Collegium’s senior mages had been meant to be secret, but of course, the result leaked. Lewis had been elected, unanimously.
Perhaps no one else had wanted the poison chalice? Overhauling the Collegium’s structure and procedures to make it safer, even while restoring morale among its members and its reputation in the wider magic community, would be an all-consuming challenge.
Lewis’s courage in accepting the presidency of the Collegium when he lacked magic to defend himself from even the least of its enemies—or members—was brave to the point of recklessness. Yet nothing in the man or in his past hinted at recklessness. Which meant that he was simply the man legend said he was: a hero.
A
wounded
hero. As brave and determined as he was, there was no escaping that he was also vulnerable now in ways he’d never been before. All the magical world knew his lack of magic.
Perhaps he thought she mocked him or attempted to use his heartbreak, his loss of magic, against him by claiming it was a necessary step to attain clarity of sight.
If that was his suspicion, it couldn’t be further from the truth. She was ripping her own heart out to offer him the opportunity she couldn’t earn herself.
She kept her voice steady, dispassionate, respecting him enough to match his emotional containment. “My magic is house witchery. Other magic users tend to scorn the small magics of home and comfort, but they’re real and exercising them is accompanied by mage sight. So I know what it is to see magic moving through the world and responding to our command of it. You must miss it.”
He rolled his shoulders before his head inclined, just fractionally. It could have been assent. It could simply be his listening pose.
She wanted to stand and pace. She couldn’t tell if he was angry, disbelieving or humoring her for Uncle Asey’s sake. Yet this was so important to her, that her hands shook. This was the power she’d worked for her whole life, and she would gift it to him. “With mage sight gone, there is another way of seeing the world. That’s what Morag wants to teach you. Clarity of sight is the gateway to the Deeper Path.” Gina inhaled, summoning her own resolution to hide her desperate regret at not achieving it. She would, one day. She had to. “The Deeper Path opens the galaxy to you. You’ll see in more than three dimensions, and that enables you to travel in more than three dimensions. My aunt Deborah follows the Deeper Path. She graduated from being a dragon knight to visiting other planets, even other galaxies. There are civilizations out there…”
“Alien civilizations, filled with dragons.” Mocking words, but no mockery in Lewis’s tone.
Did he believe her?
“Filled with marvels,” Gina said eagerly. “My aunt says she can’t describe what she’s seen. Worlds beyond imagining. I would give anything to visit them.”
“But you haven’t given your magic. You haven’t burned it out, sacrificing it for your desire.”
She winced and had to remind herself that he couldn’t know how his observation hurt. “Not for lack of trying. Heck, I’ve tried. But always, just before my magic burns out, I flinch. I can’t let go, push through, break, that last thread of magic. It ties me to this world and this way of seeing.” Her weakness shamed and infuriated her. “But you have a chance to see and do so much more.”