My eye caught on the scar over his heart that I’d seen on his dragon form. The rectangular patch of white was the only thing that marred the perfection of his warm tan chest. I had the urge to touch it, to see if it felt different than the surrounding skin. I wanted to feel the heat of his body beneath my touch, reassuring me he’d survived. The smooth movement of his abdomen as he breathed told me that the firm muscles beneath weren’t in pain. He didn’t just appear healed, he was healed.

  Deacon looked up from his book and caught me staring at him. I couldn’t believe I’d surprised him. He pulled the robe shut and tied it. I blushed, as if I’d done something wrong, but he was the one sitting around shirtless. Still, it seemed an invasion of his privacy for me to see a scar he obviously wanted to keep hidden.

  “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

  “Shouldn’t I be the one asking about you?” I came and sat next to him, marveling that he really was all right. For a moment I questioned my memory. Had yesterday been a dream?

  “I’m harder to kill than I look. When I woke up, you were asleep against me. I didn’t want to wake you, so I stayed like that until Sybil came back. She levitated you to bed.”

  I couldn’t believe I’d let myself fall asleep like that. It usually took a lot to embarrass me, but I felt a little embarrassment now. “How long did I sleep for?”

  “It’s morning. Doing all that magic with the cuff on really drained you, and you already needed to play a little catch-up.” He took a breath and his face got serious. I prepared for bad news and got something completely different. “Thank you for saving my life. If you hadn’t been there to get me out, I would have died yesterday.”

  “You’re my partner.” That’s all there was to it. I wasn’t a passerby who leapt to Deacon’s aid. He saved me and I saved him and hopefully along the way we saved some innocent lives too. It was all part of the job. We didn’t dwell on these things or keep score, so I moved on to my next question. “Where’s Sybil?”

  Deacon’s eyes narrowed slightly at my casual dismissal of his thanks. “She’s running some errands.” He waited a second to see if I would say anything more about saving his life. When I didn’t, his eyes relaxed and he leaned back on the sofa. “There really isn’t much for us to do. We’re waiting on intelligence from the Circle, your tech guy, that mage you captured. You need some rest, some time to take care of yourself.”

  “No, time is exactly what I don’t have. There’s only one day left.”

  “Exactly. Hardly any time for you to rest and get the strength you’re going to need. There’s no intelligence to act on. You don’t need to waste your energy trying to find something that isn’t there. I promise to let you know the second we have anything.”

  He might not have anything to do, but I could try to find something. I grabbed my phone from the coffee table where I’d left it yesterday to see if I had any missed calls or texts. Drake hadn’t left a voicemail when I ignored his call. I didn’t fool myself into thinking he didn’t have anything to say to me.

  Deacon snatched my phone away from me. “There’s nothing there.”

  “Drake could have called.”

  “He hasn’t. Believe me, don’t go looking for trouble with him. Trouble’s going to find you soon enough.”

  I had a hard time sitting and waiting. Given Deacon’s work standing guard in Elustria, he was probably used to it. “So was Drake born an asshole or did he acquire the condition later in life?”

  Deacon laughed without a single wince from his injuries. He really had healed back to perfect shape. His broad smile completely altered his face, lighting his eyes and lifting his serious demeanor. “I shouldn’t comment, but seeing how we’re partners who should be honest with each other, I’ve always assumed he came that way from birth.”

  “Why does he think he’s destined to be the companion of the Dragon Fae?”

  “Because it’s literally what he was bred for. The Fafnir clan has led the Syndicate for centuries. It’s been assumed for ages that the Dragon Fae’s companion would come from their clan since they’re the only clan allowed to breed with high fae and they were the guardians of the dagger you wield. That’s how they’ve maintained their power as our royal family.”

  “What?” I’d never heard of any connection between dragon shifters and my void blade. The Circle gave me the dagger around the same time they gave me my cuff. I’d assumed it came from the Circle’s collection.

  “That dagger was forged in the breath of a dragon and enchanted by the fae many centuries ago. Its sole purpose is to be wielded by the Dragon Fae during the time that she can’t use her magic. It’s been passed down from father to son in Drake’s family. The day he was born, his family began whispering in his ear that he was destined for this. Imagine how he must’ve felt when the rumor started circulating a few years ago. The first part of the prophecy had been fulfilled. Why do you think the Directorate has such a high price on your head? They can’t afford for you to be the Dragon Fae.”

  “So Sybil wasn’t exaggerating when she said Drake wanted you killed.”

  “No, she wasn’t. He’s wanted to kill me for a long time.” Deacon’s eyes drifted with memory.

  “Wait.” Something Drake had said niggled at my mind. “He called you a bastard. And you just said the Fafnir clan is the only one that can breed with high fae. The Dragon Fae’s companion has to be part fae. Drake wasn’t being figurative. He was being literal.”

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re dragon royalty.” Holy shit. Why hadn’t he told me?

  Deacon’s eyes hardened and his voice turned to steel. “No. I’m not. That’s very important, Nadiya. It’s why I’ve been able to survive all this time. My mother wasn’t a wife, and she kept me away from the dragon court. She was father’s favorite. It’s the only reason he allowed me to live. I pledged fealty to the Syndicate and have spent my life in exile protecting the dragons.”

  “Who was your father?” The thought of him being related to Drake made my skin crawl.

  Deacon took a moment to speak. When he did, he gave me his answer reluctantly. “Drakkonan Fafnir.”

  My stomach dropped. I knew that name. “You’re Drake’s brother?”

  “In the most technical of terms, yes.”

  “And that’s why you’re so subservient to him. Survival.”

  “Yes. It’s also why I never got to know our father. Drake’s mother was conniving. She was father’s least favorite wife, so she taught Drake to be ruthless. It was the only way for him to survive. I’ve never wanted any part of that world, so I made that clear and stayed out of his way. Our father held no love for me, but he would have never forgiven Drake had he killed his favorite woman’s child. It’s a delicate balancing act we play with each other to keep the peace. The key to it all has been my acceptance of my place as a bastard. We are not really brothers. I am simply a loyal servant of the Syndicate.”

  This was some seriously messed up family political dynamics. “It must have been quite a shock for him to find out you were the chosen companion. I’m surprised he didn’t kill you then if he’s wanted to all this time.” Dragons weren’t exactly renowned for their restraint.

  “He wanted to challenge me when he found out. I’m not sure exactly what stopped him, probably a combination of Sybil and Queen Malev. Meilin has some kind of hold over him. Or perhaps he’s so convinced that this is his destiny that it didn’t really matter if we fought or not. I’m just grateful it didn’t come to that. If I had defeated him, I would’ve had to kill him. Then, as his challenger, I would’ve been in charge of the Syndicate. That’s too much. Being the companion of the Dragon Fae is my most important role. I can’t do that and be leader of the Syndicate.”

  “Doesn’t he have a legitimate brother or someone who could assume power?” Deacon’s eyebrows twitched in surprise. “What?”

  “I’m sorry, I forgot that outsiders don’t know our ways. Drake killed his three brothers when our father died and he took power. That’s how it is. One son survives and leads. The rest are killed to avoid later coups. That’s why it’s so important that he and I never think of each other as brothers.”

  I recalled the first image of Drake that I had: him sitting with a woman in his lap, not a care in the world. The knowledge that he had killed members of his own family to secure that life for himself disgusted me. “That’s one theory of conflict management. It seems a stupid one for a people on the verge of extinction.”

  “I agree. The tradition started centuries ago, when our numbers weren’t so low. It’s hard to break free from old ways even when it’s for the better. I know this all seems foreign to you, but Drake is actually a good leader. He’s an ass, but he really does have the welfare of dragon shifters foremost in his mind. I don’t envy his position.” Deacon moved his upper body and the robe opened a little, revealing the scar again. I decided to press my luck and see if I could get the story behind it.

  “What’s that scar from on your chest? I didn’t think a dragon shifter could scar with your healing abilities. It’s interesting that you have it in your human form too.”

  Deacon looked to the side, so I knew I wasn’t going to get the truth. “It’s nothing.”

  “You’re a shit liar, you know that?”

  “What?”

  “I swear you’ve got to learn how to lie better. Not with me but just in general. I don’t know how you can be a spy and not know how to lie.”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t a simple injury. There was magic involved that made it permanent.” His eyes flitted to my cuff, the same as they had the first night I’d met him.

  Sybil’s assertion that Deacon had been protecting me for longer than I knew ran through my mind. His bare chest was only inches from me. The scar remained. I tentatively reached out and touched it with my left hand, the one that wore the cuff. “My dragonhide cuff.” I didn’t need to say more than that. His quick intake of breath proved I’d hit my target. “It’s over your heart.”

  “Sybil said it had to be.” His voice was low and thick with emotion.

  “Was she there?” I looked from the scar into his eyes, wanting to know more, to feel what this experience had been like.

  “She’s the one who performed the spell.”

  “Did it hurt?”

  “Not much.” His eyes flitted to the side again.

  “Like I said, you’re a shit liar.” I sobered. “I’m sorry it was so painful.”

  “It needed to be done.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want it to influence you or change things between us.”

  “Too late.” A permanent injury for me, someone he hadn’t even met when it happened. All this time, I thought he was just along for the ride, playing a part. It wasn’t like that at all. It never had been. He’d been tied to me since the beginning. He, quite literally, had skin in the game. “If it weren’t for you and the cuff you made, I would have died long ago.”

  “If it hadn’t been me, it would’ve been Drake.”

  I shuddered. “You mean I could have had that asshole’s skin around my wrist? I’d rather take my chances with the Directorate.” My attempt at humor succeeded in getting a laugh from Deacon, but it did nothing to tone down the rising heat between us. “I would’ve understood, you know. It makes more sense now, why you so badly wanted this to work out. It must’ve infuriated you, seeing it around my wrist all this time, knowing what you sacrificed to put it there, and then watching me do my damnedest to prove the prophecy wrong.”

  “It’s not about me. It’s about you. You needed to discover your own strength. You needed to act from your own agency. Your destiny, your identity, those are for you to decide. I didn’t have a right to influence you.”

  “The moment you decided to sacrifice to protect me, you earned that right.” Our eyes locked, the heat between us almost unbearable. Without consciously deciding to, I lifted my chin. He leaned down toward me.

  And I pushed away.

  This was too much too fast, and this wasn’t the right time. Circumstances made us feel things that weren’t real. We had a mission to accomplish. I wouldn’t let us fail. We were partners. That relationship had to be the most important. Anything more than that would only confuse things, make the job harder. I’d already learned that.

  “I should go check in with Harry.” I kept my eyes lowered. I didn’t want to see the way Deacon looked at me. “He gets worried when he doesn’t see me regularly, and we don’t need him poking around.” Before Deacon could say anything, I left.

  Outside, the Arizona sun felt cooler than Sybil’s sofa had.

  33

  After I took a few breaths to calm my pounding heart, I decided to take a detour to my apartment for a quick shower and change of clothes. Once that was done, I walked over to Harry’s and knocked on the door. Bouncing on the balls of my feet outside his door, I briefly wondered if he was home. It would be just my luck for him to be out right when I needed the distraction of his company.

  The door opened, and Harry smiled as soon as he saw it was me. “This is a nice surprise. Come on in. You’re just in time for the news.”

  Good old Harry. The genuine pleasure on his face at my appearance made me feel welcome and pushed all thoughts of the awkward situation with Deacon out of my mind. “I had some free time and thought I’d come watch it with you.”

  Harry shut the door behind me and went to the kitchen. “Can I interest you in a sandwich?”

  For the first time it occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten yet today. My morning had been hijacked by revelations from a certain dragon shifter which left no time for mundane considerations such as food. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

  I wondered what Deacon was doing back at Sybil’s. Was he as thrown by the heat between us as I was? No, I couldn’t do that now. I came to Harry’s to distract myself.

  “Here you go.” Harry handed me a plate with a turkey and Swiss sandwich, and we sat together on the sofa. “So, what’s going on with you and the young man I met? Deacon I think you said his name was? He seems like a nice one to me.”

  I groaned. “Mr. Harmon, I told you, I’m not dating anyone. Believe me, you will be the first person I tell.”

  “I just worry about you is all, all alone in that apartment with no one but that weird lizard for company.”

  I laughed at his description of Pint. “I’m fine. Really. Work keeps me busy. The next few days are going to be hectic, so don’t get worried if you don’t see me for a bit.”

  “I’ll try my best. It’s nice to see you getting along so well with Sybil. She’s something else, isn’t she? Do you think she and Deacon are together?”

  I laughed. “Harry, I think you’re the one who needs a date.”

  “Oh no, not me. My Pete was enough for a lifetime. I just need a little entertainment while I’m waiting to meet him upstairs. I gotta make sure you’re taken care of before I can leave.”

  Harry had been with Pete for over fifty years. He died of cancer a couple of years before we met. When I’d moved in, he reached out to me because he was lonely. As annoying as it was at the time, I’m glad he did. It was nice to have this one part of my life that was somewhat normal, although I didn’t know how many women my age on Earth regularly spent time with a man old enough to be their grandfather. “I promise you, I’m fine.”

  “All right. If you say so.” Harry flipped on the news. Not that twenty-four-hour cable stuff, no, Harry watched the local news. Said it made him feel like he lived in a small town.

  The female anchor started the broadcast. “Our top story for you: over a dozen Valley residents are missing today, all members of the Be Your Best Self movement. All of the missing persons went to a meeting two days ago and none of them returned. Now their families are demanding answers.” She passed the broadcast to a reporter outside of the Phoenix police department.

  My two worlds that I kept so meticulously separated seemed to crash together. I kept any interest from my face as multiple family members were interviewed. With tears in their eyes, they held up pictures of their loved ones, imploring anyone who had seen them to notify the police. More casualties. They didn’t know yet that they would never see their loved ones again. Literally. There would be no bodies. No burial. No funeral. They would live in uncertainty for the rest of their lives. Over time they may come to accept the truth that their loved one was gone, though never really believe it. There would always be a small part of them wondering. Hoping.

  Christoff’s wife and son came to my mind. Where were they? How were they doing? They were victims just the same. They wouldn’t have a body to bury or the closure of knowing Christoff’s final fate. Or did they? Did the hotel contact them? Were the ashy remains of someone else handed over to them? I had no idea. All I knew was that a widow wouldn’t have the comfort of strong arms surrounding her as she fell asleep. She wouldn’t have partnership and support in raising her son. A boy wouldn’t have his father to teach him what it meant to be a man. They each had a hole in their life. So many holes and no way to fill them. Like Swiss cheese. I put down my sandwich, no longer in the mood to eat.

  No one would protect these people. The Circle wouldn’t. They had no interest in humans. The only reason it was policy to not mess with them was to avoid complications. If the Circle thought they could somehow use humans to destroy the Directorate, they would. The dark side of my mind thought that Meilin must have seethed when she realized that the Directorate had come up with a way to use the humans before she had.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25