I reach for the GoSky in my pocket, wanting to call Oliver into this meeting, then stopping short. “Dragon tears. When I danced with her last night, she had the scent of dragon tears in her blood. It was unmistakable.”
“Your Highness, if Lady Hayden is the one they have waited for and you allow the change to take effect, I fear you sign your own death warrant. Eternals are not beholden to your laws.” Lowering his voice, gesturing toward the door, Z’s expression becomes sterner, if such a thing is possible. “I warned you. The dragons cannot be trusted. Such grandiose destinies, passing judgment on the souls of lesser beings, determining if we deserve to live or die, they believe themselves far above the rest of us. Need I remind you their destruction of my kind during the War of Gudqi Naevas?”
Oliver tells a different tale of history, of a day of reckoning declared by the Goddess, when the elves were struck down for waging war against the peaceful Fae, raping and pillaging, and laying siege to their towns. But Z can tell the horrors of entire legacies lost; fathers, sons, grandsons, felled by dragons, judging their souls too dark to walk the earth.
“What would you have me do? I cannot very well kill Dante, nor can I march into a den of dragons and lay a hand upon Cait, expecting to survive the encounter.” I also cannot tell my defense minister I do not know if I could harm Cait, regardless of who he believes she may be. “If I can gain her trust, win her heart, then everything she brings will fall under my power. Were she to marry me, the dragons would fall in line without question, would they not?”
“Their honor requires it, but can you accomplish such a task? Do consider that your own dragon may know her destiny and may be plotting against you, Sire. I must inform you, not even Oliver can be trusted with your life. To speak quite frankly, I may be the only ally you hold. Bearing that in mind, I have already placed several of my own most trusted men on the King’s Guard. Given the dangers these dragons pose to you, I believe it is imperative. Elfin warriors will not hesitate to kill dragons.”
*Theo*
“Does it matter if I’m drinking it from a glass or from this bottle as long as I’m staying hydrated, Cait? I believe that is the point.” At times, I think she simply enjoys arguing with me for the sake of arguing.
“But this looks nicer.” Ever insistent, she pushes the crystal glass closer to me on the counter, trying to grab the bottle away. Quite unfortunately for her, she’s rather vertically challenged, and once I hold it over my head, she cannot reach it. Not without a ladder.
“This is engraved stainless steel. See how elegantly it bears my name in that calligraphy font? Oh, you probably can’t see from all the way down there.” I continue teasing her, and she punches me in the side. She’s feisty, and mean when she wants to be. “Did you know humans never could come to an agreement on laws banning the use of single consumption bottles? It was a side-effect of our presence becoming public, certain groups in the supernatural community influencing the world and leading to the stricter environmental protection legislation in the mid-twenty-first century.”
“You know too many completely pointless and random facts, Theo.”
“He’s full of them,” Claaron remarks, taking a seat at Cait’s kitchen island. “What is he doing to annoy you now, besides simply being himself?”
Before I can remark on his unnecessary commentary, an unforgiving force demands the bottle from my hand, the prickling of electricity surging along the nerves in my arm. “Caitriona, did you want this?” Dante kindly hands her the singular object of her desire for the past fifteen minutes or longer, careful not to make physical contact.
Triumphant grin on her face, she pours the water out of it into the glass. “Thank you, Dante.” Cait maintains her polite manners, though I know she is unsure how to handle matters with him after last night.
“You are always welcome.” My old friend casts a glance over my face and sets the bottle of wine in his hand on the island. “Nothing you could do would ever prevent me from choosing to look after your best interests, Caitriona. I will always be here when you need me.” He turns away, focusing on the wine bottle instead of her… or us. “I will never hurt you.” Brushing a finger across the cork, it pops out, as if of its own volition. “Where do you keep your wine glasses?”
“In the cabinet behind this big dragon here,” she states, gesturing to me. “If you get one the same way you got this for me, I’m betting you’ll smack him in the head with the door. Is that how we’re going to play this?” A warning to proceed with caution laces her tone.
Dante returns his attention to Cait, meeting her eyes, Claaron smirking behind him. I can only hope he keeps his mouth shut. As much patience as I have for him, I do not believe this is the best situation in which to agitate a demigod, particularly not the Goddess’ son. “No, Caitriona. We are not going to play at all. I care not for games, but I care deeply for you. Do I wish you chose me? Of course. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
“But she didn’t,” Claaron adds to the conversation, and I retrieve a glass from the cabinet, handing it to Dante as a means of distraction, glaring at my brother.
“Thank you, Theo.” I nod politely, deciding it is perhaps best to leave this conversation between them. Cait is more than capable of holding her own. “No. She did not. However, given her decision is to marry my oldest and most respected friend, I hold no ill will toward such a union. Caitriona, you shall always fall under my protection as firmly as any dragon’s. Do not forget the ring you wear. Use it.”
She takes my hand, moving closer to me. “So, how did you know already?” We agreed on speaking with him together when he arrived today.
Turning to fill the wine glass, giving a questioning look to Claaron, silently daring the dragon to tangle with him, Dante says nothing for a few minutes. “I asked if you wanted to be with me, if you believed you would find happiness in such a life, and you told me you could. You did not say that it was what you wanted.”
“Well… I couldn’t lie to you.” My Cait is quite honest in her feelings, though often protective of others. Dante nods, and I can imagine the difficulty of his position, one I felt myself in just yesterday, sure she would remain with him. “I hope Corrin takes this…”
“No.” His command emphatic, Dante faces her, eyes blazing, and I pull her to me, despite knowing the absolute truth in his declaration to protect her, to never to harm Cait. “You must not tell him anything. This stays amongst us,” gesturing to those of us in the kitchen, “and the dragons sworn loyal to you. Caitriona, until the change taking place within you completes, you are in grave danger at all times. Should Corrin discover you made your final decision, I fear such danger increases tenfold, conservatively speaking.”
Claaron and I exchange a glance of agreement, though I fear she will argue this point as she does most everything else, but further discussion halts with Liam and Clifford’s entrance. “New security cameras are installed,” Liam announces.
“All cameras are now linked to your specific Sky Book G3KIDs and accessible with your individual sixty-four character passcodes and dual biometric authentication. This particular system has a new digital feed encryption code I specifically redesigned to strengthen our Virtual Fortress Network’s firewalls and the impenetrable nature of the VFN’s redundancies.” Clifford beams with pride at his latest accomplishment in technological security measures. “Anyone who gets through it would have to be better at computer hacking than I am.”
Cait snorts in laughter, coughing as she manages to swallow a mouthful of cranberry juice. “I feel like Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, only with dragons. Crazy Dragon, Pervy Dragon, Geeky Dragon, Scary Dragon…” she explains, pointing out each of us. Liam earned ‘Scary Dragon’ after coming around a corner this morning and nearly giving her a heart attack because she didn’t expect him in the apartment, though she does swear he wears the most menacing expressions.
“Now I can’t wait to meet Jai to see where he fits into this crew. And eventually Snobby Dragon joins in
the fun.”
That earns a round of laughter, and Claaron can’t help himself. “I’m sure Oliver will at least appreciate being upgraded from you calling him a psycho.”
“True. He should consider himself lucky.” She looks around at the lot of us, taking up the majority of her rather spacious kitchen. “What am I supposed to do with all of you? I mean, there’s been all this ‘pledging loyalty’ and whatever, but who’s in charge of this entourage?”
“As you are my ward, I am in command of all matters regarding your safety and security. Decisions on ranking among your guard, details in organizing your travel and such, and anything pertaining to your protection fall to me. You may make preferences known to me in these matters, and if they are suitable, I will accommodate. Those who you favor may hold positions nearer to you if their presence is preferable over another’s.”
Cait huffs, irritation rolling off her in waves. “Then tell me, what is so damn special about having a bunch of dragons around? Because so far, it doesn’t sound like I have much to do with any of it.”
Claaron laughs. “Just wait. You will see.” And I must grab her arm before she picks something off the counter to throw at him.
“Caitriona, we are well aware this is quite difficult for you, but to tell you what is happening would affect every step you make, every reaction, every choice, and the way you approach everything as the change takes place, ultimately affecting the resulting outcome—who you are in the end.” Dante’s voice takes on a soft yet authoritative tone. “As you have already surmised, the woman you are in the end will be eternal, Caitriona. For you, all paths lead to the same destination; however, every path alters the scenery in the end and the eyes through which you view it.”
“Oh, my Goddess, at this rate I think my head may explode before I get there.” A shiver runs through her, and her eyes widen. “Did you feel that?”
“No. I’m afraid I…”
She bolts for the living room at a full run, throwing open the doors to the expansive garden balcony, and I believe Cait will fall into the pool before she veers toward the railing.
“Cait!” In a fraction of a second, I have her in my arms, fearing how near she came to heading over the edge in her hurry.
“I’m fine, Theo. What is wrong with you? There’s something out there.” She points up in the sky, and too far off in the distance for her human eyes to see, I spot Jaiteru approaching, barely visible in the clouds.
I look around to my brothers, eyes landing on Dante. “She felt his arrival before any of us,” I remark to them in Penfaeryn.
The demigod considers this for a moment. “No. She has not changed enough yet. This is his doing. He sensed her and drew her closer, impatient to meet her.”
*Cait*
I don’t know why, but he’s not what I expected. He’s a considerably smaller dragon than Theo, though still large enough to be frightening if I were on the wrong end in the spectrum of souls. His body is the deepest sapphire blue, sleeker in his build than either Theo or Claaron, with scales reminding me of snakeskin, glistening in the sunlight as if covered in a fine dusting of gold. Two curved horns rise up from his head, blunt-tipped spikes running down the length of his body to his fanned tail, and like his razor-sharp talons, they’re pearl white and smooth surfaced.
Unlike the other dragons, he doesn’t shift in a shimmering way. Instead, a mysterious thick fog surrounds him, condensing into the form of a man who is strong, yet elegant, and uniquely fine-featured with a strange, ethereal beauty. He wears loose-fitting dark linen pants, a shade of midnight blue, if not black, and nothing else, upper body covered in an intricate weave of black vines tattoos, climbing up his neck and down his arms to his wrists, so old the lines aren’t sharp anymore.
No one says anything, waiting for him to make the first move, but he waits, eyeing me with an incredible, childlike curiosity before stepping toward me, his sun-kissed skin a startling contrast to his white hair.
“On ga ae ocu.” His soft voice is heavy with a thick accent I recognize from a documentary film I watched recently on Fae tribes in northern Asia.
Once we’re nose-to-nose, this dragon standing a few inches above my height, the unusual nature of his wide eyes are too striking to ignore, marbled Atlantic blue, unblinking as he keeps watching me. “It’s nice to meet you, Jaiteru.” I have no idea if that’s the correct response to whatever he just said.
Theo was right. Jaiteru Faerwyng is downright weird.
A broad smile spreads across his face, and he brings his hands together, palms and fingers flat, then lowers to his knees, bowing his head. “My eternal loyalty, Nacgqo.”
I glance over to Theo, who I’m sure is trying not to laugh. No one offers any help. I’m totally on my own with this. “That’s very sweet of you, Jai. Thank you.… And just call me Cait.”
Standing again, he’s still smiling, though less wide, more as if he has some secret no one else knows. “Fae believed. Now you are… Cait.” As his mouth splits into a broad grin, I swear this little guy is full of mischief.
“That right there,” I point at his grinning face, “earns you the rank of Smiley Dragon.” His smile broadens, and I shake my head. “Welcome to the dragon nuthouse.”
Chapter 17
*Theo*
“Are you even listening to me? You’re making all matter of racket over there.” Just for that comment, I drop a box full of Cait’s old dance trophies next to my GoSky on the desk, hearing Oliver yelp at the unexpected loud noise in his ear. He dislikes using speakerphone, which I greatly prefer. “What in Hades’s name was that?”
“Cait gave me her uncle’s former home office. For the most part, she cleared out everything but for the furniture; however, a few boxes of personal belongings remained, things she apparently did not know where to put. She told me to do with them what I like.” Pulling out a digital photo frame, I switch on the power to find a series of dance recital pictures featuring a very young Cait. “Greyson was clearly quite sentimental.”
“I cannot say I find that surprising, considering he did raise her. Not many vampires care for their human descendents in any manner, but one four hundred years down his bloodline and in her situation.… You’ve seen her file, Theo. Paternity unknown, sixteen-year-old mother overdosed on Faery salt. Lady Hayden was not a month old when Greyson adopted her. Incomprehensible.” The ever-stoic Oliver falls to a soft, pained tone while speaking of her history, though I daresay any dragon would, knowing who she is, to learn of her beginning, how blessed she is to live, how blessed we are.
“Yes. Cait has been Goddess-touched since birth to survive such an entrance into the world.” A photo comes across the screen of her dressed for ballet, ten years of age at most, executing a graceful Arabesque en Pointe. “She was a beautiful child.”
“She is a beautiful woman.”
“Indeed she is. I am quite fortunate.” I set the photo frame out on the desk beside a couple others I’ve found, one of school pictures, another of random candid shots. I like seeing her history, her personal evolution, watching her aging—something I’ve never experienced, and soon, something she no longer will.
“Do you say that as the dragon honored to call her your ward or as more? Has she made a decision of which I am unaware?”
I laugh at his forthright nature, given his position. “And do you ask me as the protector of the king or as a dragon, protector of the future the Goddess desires?”
“He nearly attacked me this morning, Theo. I fear at this point, I am protecting the rest of the world from him more than I am protecting Corrin.” My brother concerns me, sounding ever wearier each time I speak with him. “To make matters worse, it seems Z decided to involve himself. The Guard is overrun with elves loyal to his legacy’s faction.”
Sitting down at the desk, I unpack my belongings into its drawers, organizing the fresh origami paper Daniella purchased for me, reminding me of the need to discuss household staffing issues with Cait. “They cannot learn of any dec
ision made, Oliver. It would place her in too great a danger.” There are many variables involving elves I do not care for, and Z’s legacy is quite old, predating the War of Two Hundred Nights and one of a small number of elfin legacies to survive our intervention.
“I may not yet be sworn into her service, but I will not endanger her. She is far too important to us all.”
That I do not doubt. Oliver values his honor and station in our existence too greatly to do anything that would cause him to fall out of favor with the Goddess. “She is mine, brother, and I shall not hesitate to put the boy down like the rabid dog he is should he make the slightest move to harm her.”
He remains silent for some time, and I continue organizing my things, knowing he will speak when he is ready. I daresay that after telling him of my essential intent to destroy his ward of a thousand years, Oliver finds reason to choose his next words with caution. “I gather Dante took the news rather well, considering the city has not experienced a sudden blackout or unexpected lightning storm,” he replies, opting to avoid conflict altogether.
“The days of his temperamental outbursts are long past, and given the circumstances, he finds no reason or purpose for ill will between us. Anyway, Jai’s arrival overshadowed the entire subject.” I move my bonsai tree yet again. Finding the right spot seems impossible. “You know how it is with him.”
“Hm.… Yes. How is she taking to Jaiteru? Does he unnerve her the way he does everyone else who meets our odd brother?”
“Quite the opposite. Cait’s rather taken by him, says he’s adorable. He earned a nickname within minutes of landing.”
“A nickname?” Oliver does not sound amused by the idea.
Laughing, I begin shelving my collection of books. “Oh, yes, brother. We all have them. You will get used to it. Consider it a show of her affection you have one.”