'As you command.' The young dragon bowed and rushed to do as he was bid.
Darius dried himself with the nearest robe before jerking on a pair of pants. What a mess this was becoming. He'd thought Javar alive, and had hoped his tutor had merely lost his medallion. Now that seemed implausible.
What were humans doing inside his tutor's palace? Humans. Plural. More than one. Perhaps an army. Frustrated, Darius shoved a hand through his hair. Grace's arrival was no coincidence. The answer lay with her and her brother. He was sure of it. Finding her, he realized, was no longer a luxury. Finding her was a necessity.
His warriors awaited him inside the dining hall. They sat at the table, silent, unsure of his intentions. He positioned himself at the head of the table. Before they could think to begin their game, he said, 'You wanted something to do, and now I am giving it to you. I want you to prepare for war.'
'War?' they all gasped, though there was an undercurrent of excitement in every voice.
'You are letting us declare war upon the vampires?' Madox asked.
'No. Humans have overtaken Javar's palace, and they carry strange weapons. I do not yet know if they have killed the dragons inside, nor do I know what they are planning. But I have sent Grayley to the Outer City where he is to inform Vorik's unit to surround the palace. Tomorrow's eve, you will join them.'
'Tomorrow?' Madox pounded a fist into the table. 'We should act today. Now. This instant. If there is a chance the dragons are alive, we must do what we can to save them.'
Darius arched a brow. 'What good are you to them if you are dead? We do not know what kind of weapons these humans wield. We do not know how to protect ourselves from them.'
'He's right,' Renard said, leaning forward. 'We must discover what these weapons do.'
'I will be traveling to the surface,' Darius said. 'I will learn what I can.'
'The surface?' Zaeven gasped.
'You cannot,' Madox growled.
'Lucky bastard,' Brittan said with a wry smile.
'Go now,' Darius told them. 'Sharpen your weapons and prepare your minds. Brand, your new duties will begin immediately.'
His friend opened his mouth to question him, but changed his mind. He nodded in understanding.
Chairs skidded as they rushed to obey; then the shuffle of their footsteps sounded.
Darius shut himself in his personal chambers. With Brand now guarding the mist, he closed his eyes and pictured Javar's palace. Within seconds, he stood inside the very walls he imagined. Except, these walls were barren, devoid of any type of jewel or decoration. He frowned.
A billowing mist stretched to the prismed ceiling, and as he floated into the next room, he noticed what looked to be ice crystals scattered across the floor. Those crystals produced a thick mist. He bent down and smoothed his palm over a few shards, wishing he could hold them in his hand and feel their coolness. Why weren't they melting? His frown deepened, and he straightened. Unlike the emptiness of the first room, human men abounded in this one. No one saw him, for he was like the mist. There, but not there. Able to observe, but unable to touch.
Some of the occupants were striding in and out, holding weapons just as Grayley described. Attached to their backs were strange, round containers with a single tube that stretched from the top. The men who weren't holding weapons were holding spikes crafted by Hephaestus himself. They jammed those spikes into the wall and pried at the jewels. Where had these humans acquired tools of the gods?
Had he been a man who allowed emotions to rule him, Darius would have morphed into dragon form. Prongs of fury simmered to life just beneath his skin. He watched a female vampire glide casually inside the room and lick her lips as her gaze caressed the humans. A trickle of blood fell from her chin, testament of a recent feeding. She stopped to speak with a human.
'Tell your leader we've done all that was required of us,' she said in the human language, trailing a finger over his now pale cheek. 'We are ready for our reward.'
The man shifted nervously, but nodded. 'We're almost ready to venture further.'
'Do not take too long. We might decide to turn our appetites to you.' With one last lick of her lips, which sent the man rearing backward in fear, she left as casually as she'd entered. Her white gown flowed behind her in sensuous waves.
Darius watched in shock. Vampires and humans aiding one another? Inconceivable. Perplexed, he moved his gaze over the rest of the chamber. Sections of the walls and floor were blackened from fire. In a far corner lay the broken, dead body of a dragon. Veran, one of Javar's fiercest soldiers. A white film covered him from head to toe. He bore several injuries, yet there was no blood around him.
What type of weapon could destroy such a strong creature? Vampires were strong, yes. Humans were resourceful, yes. But that wasn't enough to capture an entire dragon palace. His fury increased. Darius found himself reaching for one of the humans, intent on curling his fingers around the bastard's vulnerable neck, but his hands drifted through the man like mist.
Now more than before he knew he could not send his own army here until he learned just how to combat these men and their weapons.
Darius searched the rest of the palace. He did not find a sign of Javar or any more of his men. Had the rest met the same fate as Veran? Or had they merely abandoned this place? Left unsure, he whisked himself back inside his own chamber. Answers. He wanted answers. Answers he suspected lay with Grace. If he hoped to gain what he wanted from her, he needed to be focused, distant. Utterly unfeeling.
Heartless.
He only wished he did not feel so alive each time he thought of her. So vital.
Well, he would remove the sight of her from his mind. All of that glorious hair tumbling down her shoulders. Eyes more vibrant than the sea. He would even remove the sound of her voice from his ears. That sweet voice entreating him to continue their kiss.
Instead of forcing her from his thoughts, he only managed to strengthen her hold.
He easily saw himself carrying her to his bed, laying her down and stripping the clothes from her body. He imagined himself parting her sweet thighs, luxuriating in the softness of her skin, then sliding deeply inside her. He could see her head thrashing from side to side. Could almost hear her moans of rapture.
Desire became a heady essence in his veins, his cock strained to an unbearable thickness. He growled from the pain of it. Jaw clenched, he removed the medallion from his neck and held it in his palm. 'Show me Grace Carlyle,' he commanded.
The twin dragons glowed incandescent with energy. Power whirled inside them, mighty, burgeoning, and when it became too much for them to bear, blood-red beams shot from their eyes, creating a circle of light. Inside the light, air crackled and thickened.
Grace's image formed in the center.
In that instant, his senses came to life. He didn't understand how a simple glance at her could undo centuries of safeguards. She lay in a small bed, and he studied her. Her eyes were closed; her cheeks were pale, making the freckles scattered across her dirt-smudged nose and forehead appear darker. Her carmine curls were wound atop her head, all but a few loose tendrils framing her temples.
She wore the same dirty shirt, and some sort of small, clear tube protruded from her arm, partially covered by the thin white sheet draping her from the chest down. Two male humans approached her bed.
Darius scowled as his possessiveness resurfaced.
'Looks like the morphine is working,' the man with dark hair said, his voice a smooth baritone.
'Not just morphine. I gave her three different sedatives. She'll be out for hours.'
'What are we going to do with her?'
'Whatever she wants us to do.' He chuckled. 'We're to play the gracious host.'
'We should just kill her and be done with it.'
'We don't need the attention her disappearance would bring-not when her brother is already missing.'
'She won't stop searching for Alex. That much is obvious.'
'She can search all she wants. She'll never find him.'
The dark-headed one reached out and trailed his fingers over Grace's cheek. She didn't awaken, but mumbled something unintelligible under her breath. 'She's pretty,' he said.
A low, menacing snarl rose in Darius's throat.
'She's too fat,' the other said.
