My ears ring with the discordant sounds of breaking glass and screams. Clio is on her knees a few feet away, one hand on the ground, the other reaching out to me, her face a mask of shock.
I don’t want to hurt her, but she’s hurting me. My head throbs with the pain of her grip, my vision pulsing with each squeeze. Images flash through my mind of two of the faces from my sketchbook, but they aren’t sketches—they’re real men. One with glowing ultraviolet veins beneath his skin, another with a beard and broken horns beginning to regrow. The memory of scents and sensations glimmer around those two images. Then they disappear in a flash of pain.
I grit my teeth and push back against her grip, a rasping cry scraping out of my throat until something surges forth from deep within, emerging like a tidal wave.
Whatever it is hits her and her entire body flies back, slamming into the wall all the way across the room.
More glass shatters, and footsteps pound across the floor as the other students flee. I collapse into sobs of relief now that Clio has released my mind. But along with her grasp, I’ve also lost sight of the memories she dredged up. I clench my eyes shut, desperately reaching for those missing hours. I have to get them back.
My relief is short-lived. A moment later, several heavy footfalls come thundering down the path to the building we’re in.
“Clio!” The feminine voice jolts me up, and a woman wearing snug leathers runs past in a blur, leaving a wake of ocean scent. She kneels at Clio’s side, and I stare, bleary-eyed.
“Ephyra,” Clio whispers. “She knows where Pan is.”
“Bullshit,” Ephyra says, glancing back at me, her eyes wide.
I shake my head. “I don’t…” I begin, but I’m not sure it’s the truth. The memory is faint enough to be a half-forgotten dream, but it’s there in pieces.
I don’t have time to finish answering, because a pair of big hands grab me beneath the arms and haul me up, then spin me to face the door.
“You’re coming with us, Miss Jones.” My head throbs when I turn to look up at the enormous man who holds my upper arm in a firm grip. Errol, one of the hot-as-fuck Shadow dragons who guard this island, is the one who grabbed me. His two partners, Razik and Salem, both stand grim-faced on either side of the door as he pushes me through. I stumble over the threshold into the open air, stomach churning over how low I’ve fallen.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” I say, my eyes blurring with tears. I try to lift a hand to wipe them, only to find my wrists bound by a dark shadow that vaguely resembles handcuffs.
“You can tell us all about it in a minute. Catch your breath.”
“Where should we put her? We don’t exactly have a holding cell. We’ve never needed one,” Salem says. He’s the quiet, intense Shadow.
“As far from the glass studio as possible,” Razik says. He ponders for a moment, then seems to come to a conclusion. Suddenly all three of them shift, and I’m no longer gripped by a hand, but an enormous dragon talon that curls around my shoulder. A second talon scoops me up from behind, the other closing around me like a cage before he lifts me up into the air.
“What the fuck?” I scream, struggling against the grip of the two claws I’m sandwiched between. Errol rises over the treetops and sails through the air. Nausea surges through me for a moment before the chilly wind obliterates it, replacing it with a rush of adrenaline. Ahead of us, the other two dragons fly erratically. One lets out a frustrated roar, then they drop back. I crane my neck to look behind us just as one of the others veers away, heading toward the main office.
“You need to calm down,” comes a deep, resonant voice that vibrates all the way through the talons holding me. “I won’t drop you, but you’re interfering with the wind, which makes it difficult to fly.”
“Where are you taking me?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer, and I do my best to rein in my panic. Watching the island sail by beneath us is a sight, so I focus on the scenery, heart jumping when we pass over the ruined cabin. I blink, almost positive I saw a dark figure walking up the beach, but we flew past too fast for me to be sure.
We fly beyond the northern tip of the island and past a cliff jutting out into the water before Errol tilts against the air currents and turns.
What I see next is a breathtaking view of a beautiful villa carved into the stony cliffs. I marvel at the intricate construction that only becomes more detailed as we close in on a wide balcony spanning the stone face, opening into a dark interior. He slows to a hover above the balcony, holding me while his partner swoops down, shifting into Salem a few feet above the balcony and landing naked and agilely as a cat. Black smoke flows from his mouth and nose, weaving itself into clothing around his muscular frame. I’m a little sad he covered up, but less so when he reaches out both arms to take me from Errol’s grip.
Hell, I’ll take what male contact I can get, even if they’re now my jailers.
“Where are we?” I ask, staring up into Salem’s eyes as he sets me carefully on my feet. Errol lands beside us and strides into the darkness. He doesn’t bother conjuring clothes for himself, so I enjoy the view of his naked butt until a glowing female figure joins him, giving me a pointed look and a raised eyebrow.
I snap my gaze back to Salem’s face. He smirks.
“As far from campus as we can get you, for now. So you’re the reason things have been going haywire all week, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry?” I give him a chagrined smile. “I wish I knew why. Or how to stop it…”
“Welcome to our home,” the woman says, interrupting. She approaches with cautious footsteps, red-gold flames flaring from the corners of her eyes for a moment before receding. Heat builds in the air as she draws nearer, and I take a step back, beginning to sweat.
“I’m Benedetta,” she says, stopping at the threshold to the balcony. “We haven’t met yet, but I’m usually found in the glass studio when I’m on campus. I teach the flamework classes in the summer and autumn sessions, then take winter and spring off.”
My mouth drops open. “You’re the phoenix! I’ve heard about you.” She’s just as intimidatingly strong and beautiful as the two dragons standing on either side of us. I feel like a troll in the presence of all her fiery, glowing brilliance. Her hair occasionally flickers with a cascade of flames, but is otherwise an ashy silver-black against her luminous skin.
“We need to keep Nemea here for the time being,” Errol says. “At least until we can figure out how to counteract her power.”
“What is your power?” Benedetta asks.
“I…” I wince, hating how it sounds, then take a breath and spit it out. “I think it’s chaos. I think that’s why things keep breaking on campus. But it didn’t start until a few days ago.”
“And you’re having trouble controlling it, I gather,” she says, her mouth dipping in a concerned frown.
A sudden flood of desperate, confused emotions fill me, choking me to the point I can’t respond. I hastily wipe a tear from my eye as I nod, wrapping both arms around my midsection, struggling to swallow back the anguish.
“Oh no. Come sit,” she says, gesturing for me to follow her. She leads me into the dark interior. Hidden sconces along the walls flame to life with a wave of her hand, illuminating the cozy space in a warm glow. The flames reveal a comfortable sitting area of wood furniture. There are no cushions, but when I sit, I realize the chair isn’t wood at all—it’s cold, sculpted iron, contoured perfectly to the shape of a human backside. It’s also polished to a gleaming shine, though lightly patinaed with rust, which accounts for the color.
“When you’re flammable, you can’t exactly live in a house made of kindling,” Benedetta says, settling in the chair across from me. A low table rests between us. The two men remain on the balcony, guarding us like a pair of dark sentinels. “I’ve learned to control it when I’m teaching, but I prefer not to take chances in my own home.”
“I suppose having dragons for mates helps,” I offer. “They’re fireproof, right?”
“That they are. They also resurrected me. If not for their fire, I wouldn’t be alive today. They found my soul trapped in a globe on the tree in the campus courtyard, and somehow managed to find a way to release me from it. I’ve never regretted my powers, but living with them has required certain sacrifices.”
She gestures to the industrial decor of this room. I peer around, admiring the rustic look of the stone, in contrast to deliberate the angles and lines, and an even, patterned texture etched into the walls and floors that resembles wallpaper and wood grain.
I register something she said and frown at her. “How did you wind up in a globe on that tree?”
She shakes her head and shrugs. “Fate? That’s the only explanation I have. I was killed by dragon fire more than a thousand years ago. When someone dies by dragon fire, their soul is sent to the Ashes, and from the Ashes can be resurrected as a phoenix, if found by the right mates. Fate magic brought April and her mates together when she was creating the original sculpture, and when they planted it on this island, its roots grew deep, touching all the magical realms: the Dragon Glade, the Ursa Sanctuary, the Nymphaea Haven, and the Turul Enclaves. I think it must have also reached the realm of the gods, the realm of Ashes, and who knows how many other magical realms. Somehow it found my soul and pulled me back to the realm of the living where my Shadows found me.”
She smiles adoringly in the direction of the two dragons. I’m uncomfortably aware of their missing third, Razik, who no doubt went to their boss to report on my misbehavior.
“I’m getting kicked off the island, aren’t I?”
The three of them share a worried look and Benedetta presses her lips tight, smoothing her hands along the tops of her thighs. She’s wearing what look like normal clothes—black jeans and a loose pink blouse—but they shimmer when her hands pass over them—yet more evidence of the level of power the higher races possess if they can conjure clothing that’s impermeable to fire.
“I don’t think we should jump to conclusions,” Benedetta says. “I’m still here, after all.”
“Not that we’d have let them expel you,” Errol says.
“And I don’t think we need to expel Nemea, either,” she says. “This is the best place for you to learn to control your power. If you’re here, it’s because you’re meant to be here.”
“But I can’t be there,” I say, pointing vaguely in the direction of the school. “So who’s going to teach me? What kind of creature uses chaos magic and knows how to help me control it?”
They all share more looks, more frowns.
“You don’t even know how it works, do you?” I ask.
Benedetta takes a deep breath, slowly shaking her head. “No, but there aren’t many other phoenixes in the world either. The only other one I’ve met was almost as new to the power as I am. The best she and I can do is compare notes when we’re together. I learned control mostly through practice and focus. For some of the Bloodline, that’s the only option. If we have to build you your own studio in a corner of the island so you can have a place to learn, we will.”
Despite how optimistic she sounds, I can’t help but remember the state I left the cabin in. I don’t remember how I did it, but I’m positive it was my fault somehow. What building is going to withstand my fuckups?
I cross my arms, torn between thanking her for how kind she’s being and my skepticism that there’s any hope for me at all. My lip begins to quiver as the hopelessness takes hold again. I absently reach up and clasp the small bottle still dangling between my breasts and squeeze. This was supposed to give me answers. Maybe it still can. The missing time must hold some truth for me.
“We’ll figure it out, Nemea,” Benedetta says again, her tone more comforting as she stands. “I’m going to make some tea and we can talk more, at least until the others get here.”
“Then what happens?” I ask, craning my neck to watch her walk to a staircase near the far wall. She pauses and looks at her two mates.
“I’m not sure, but we want to help, don’t we?”
The two men stare back without answering. They’re probably chatting telepathically, like dragons do. At least it’s clear that some kind of exchange occurs, because Errol finally tears his gaze away from her to look at me.
“I’ll be straight with you: the security of this island is our job. If your presence here jeopardizes that, we’re obligated to handle it. But the decision isn’t ours to make. When Cassandra and April get here, it’s up to them.”