Damian stared at the last text from Andi on his phone. There was so much more he wanted to say to her, but typing it didn’t make sense when all he had to do was wait until midnight to get to speak to her in person. He got up, showered, and had Grim summon everyone shortly for a meeting in their conference room to introduce Ryana, which would be a damn sight more comfortable than their meeting in the library the prior night.
Mills entered first, looking smug, walking around the table to his side. “I did it,” she crowed, holding her hands clasped in front of her. “And, if I may say so myself, it came out very nicely.” She opened her hands to show him what they held.
Nestled in the center of her palm was a smooth, smoky gemstone that looked like it had a live coal trapped inside. It was wound with what looked like platinum wire and on a simple silver chain. He picked it up, and the coal glowed brighter like it was reflecting the fire inside his dragon back at him.
“She’ll love it.” He could already imagine Andi wearing it, the warm stone sitting at the notch of her throat.
“It’s the most magical object I’ve ever made, Damian. Utterly one of a kind.”
“I should hope so,” he said, giving her a smile, as everyone else filed in.
Austin and Ryana were almost last, having some shared conversation in which he made her laugh. She made a grand entrance with her injured wings, and Austin winced on her behalf as she carefully cleared the door. She’d worn a sparklingly beaded cream-colored gown and makeup that covered most of her bruises if not the swelling, and she’d clipped her auburn hair to all be the same length, falling just below her chin. Lyka summoned a backless chair for her, as Austin chose to sit nearby. Damian was not a fool. It was easy to see how Austin was putting himself in her proximity. He rather wished he could warn the werewolf about her temper and how incompatible they’d be, but suspected Austin would take that as a challenge. In any case, if he kept puppy-dogging around Ryana, he’d learn soon enough.
“All right, everyone,” he said, with the necklace for Andi still safe in his hand. “As some of you may have noticed, my sister is awake now.”
Ryana arched her neck gracefully and looked around the room. “I look forward to making all of your acquaintances. But—”
“Ryana!” Max burst into the room with an armful of magenta amaranth flowers draped over his arm. Joy flooded Ryana’s face at seeing him there.
“You remembered!” She clapped her hands as he came to present the flowers to her.
“I remember you making the entire convoy stop to pick them for you until your carriage was full enough to sleep on them.” He grinned at her. “These are probably a different kind than those were, but they look very much the same.”
“The servants were picking purple petals out of the carriage for weeks,” Ryana said with a laugh. “Mother was so upset!”
Damian took a stealthy glance at Austin, who seemed mystified. I don’t need to warn him about a thing. He’ll learn soon enough.
Max hovered for an ingrained moment and then lunged forward to sweep her into a hug. Ryana’s wings flexed and battered at him, and her arms flailed before finally finding awkward purchase around him, the same as he had her.
“Max, I’m a princess!” she protested, but she was laughing.
“I know, but this is how we do welcomes on Earth.” The weapons master pulled back. “I want to hear all about home. What happened at the end? And all the gossip before that. Is General Eshever still in charge—”
“In due time,” Damian cut in. “In addition to Max, these are…the rest of my generals.”
Ryana rearranged herself on her chair and looked around, spotting Mills first. “And what is your name?” she imperiously demanded. Damian knew she wasn’t being unkind, just used to being obeyed.
“Millicent,” Mills said. “Although everyone calls me Mills. I’m a witch.”
“A witch general. Excellent!” Ryana said delightedly, scanning down the table. “You…general with the metal arm! What magic makes you work? Are you an automaton?” Jamison looked an appropriate combination of amused and horrified.
“That’s Jamison, and…Ryana…I was explaining things earlier, so they’d made sense, but in truth, these are my friends,” Damian said.
“Except for me,” Austin corrected him. “I am totally a general.”
“A general pain in my ass,” his brother Zach snickered.
“Are you both wolves?” Ryana guessed, looking between them. “Or are they chevoni?” she asked Damian and Max with a frown.
“No,” Max answered her quickly. Chevoni in the Realms were far worse—they were closer to hyenas than wolves, had a taste for blood, and had a strange type of group telepathic sentience.
“We’re just average, cuddly werewolves,” Zach said with a tease. Austin gave him a stern glance that said, Back off.
“Not average and not cuddly,” Austin clarified, pointing to himself.
“As long as you’ve got all your skin, I don’t really care,” Ryana said with a laugh that made everyone else around the table check out their neighbor to make sure they’d all heard the same thing.
Damian pinched the bridge of his nose, unwilling to explain her reference to Bruud. “In any case, I’m going to need all of your help acclimating Ryana to earth in the coming weeks. Where are we with your alternative plan, Mills?”
The witch’s lips pulled into a serious line. “Still working on it. I’ve got a rather extreme plan that requires a willing volunteer.”
Damian snorted. “I’m sure we can manage that.”
Mills tensed. “I’m not so—”
Then Jamison cocked his head to the side and announced, “Hold up.” His eyes got that far away look they did when communing with his electronics. “I think we’re going to get a location on that meeting, Damian. The car at the airport is moving.”
“Back to Andi’s?” Damian asked with concern.
“No. It circled around, presumably to pick someone up, and is now heading east.”
Mills reached under the table and hit a button so that the wood in front of her opened and revealed a terminal. “Let me know when they land, baby.”
“Zach, Austin, Max…gear up. Get the tour bus ready,” Damian commanded, and the men quickly filed out.
Ryana watched all of the excitement with glittering eyes.
“Triangulating coordinates…likely destination: warehouse row,” Jamison announced.
“Recently bought by Bright Star conglomerate, go figure,” Mills muttered, now working on her own terminal. “I’m uploading schematics for all the buildings on the block in case they move while inside, but no guarantees if they’re up to date. Evil empires don’t keep up to code.”
“Ready!” Austin’s voice echoed from outside, piped in from the SUV.
“Load up,” Damian announced. Mills slapped her terminal shut, and Jamison stood, both of them jogging for the door. Damian almost followed them, until his sister blocked him with a wing.
“Where are we going?” she said with excitement.
“We’re going to attack an assemblage of Hunters. You’re staying here.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” she protested, and Damian was hesitant to shove her injured wing aside. “I’m coming with you.”
It was a terrible idea, and he knew it, but maybe, if she saw who Hunters were and how “wars” worked on earth, it could be instructive. Just as long as his people could keep her safe.
“Fine,” he grumbled, and she folded her wing in with a grin.
“Remember what I told you,” Damian said, running flat out for the SUV as she followed him. Her sparkling gown was entirely inappropriate because she thought she’d just be meeting his “generals” tonight, but he knew if he gave her a chance to change, the meeting would already be over.
To her credit, she hopped twice and pulled her delicate sandals off, finishing up the last of the run barefoot, and she’d already magicked away her wings by the time they jumped into the car.
Austin gawked at her as she sat down. How convenient that there was an empty seat beside him, again, Damian thought. “Where did they go?” the wolf asked her.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Ryana said with a laugh.
The second his door was slammed, Max pulled the SUV into drive and started gunning for the gates.
“Any new news, Jamison?” Damian asked.
“Nothing on my end other than an address.”
“And the tech in the building is so old I can’t connect to it,” Mills complained. Then she whispered, “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Damian pressed.
“Well, if it isn’t our old friend, the janitor,” Jamison said, giving Mills a look.
“He’s never going to let us hear the end of this, is he?” she asked him back, before glancing back to Damian. “The man you wanted tagged two days ago at the mall, who’s been as boring as wallpaper paste since, is on his way to our same location—with his cell phone in his pocket.” Mills rubbed her hands together in glee.
“Then, you’re right. I never am going to let you hear the end of it,” Damian said with a satisfied chuckle.
“It was a horrible risk,” Zach complained.
“A calculated risk,” Damian corrected him. “Not made in haste—nor in error, apparently.”
Ryana just kept looking between all of them, one after the other, beaming a smile as bright as the beads on her dress. “This is all so exciting!”
The janitor beat them to the location, but he walked in. Mills piped the microphone from his phone through the SUV’s system so they could all listen in to his low-level, forced-to-stay-outside-the-club-house enforcer-small-talk with others of his stature. Max slowed their SUV to coast as Jamison pulled up views from outside.
“Fifteen cars parked, so at least fifteen targets, not counting drop-offs,” Max announced with his magical eyes.
“Definitely more. A lot more,” Mills said, her eyes closed, trying to track fragments of too many conversations.
“Any luck on voice recognition?” Zach asked Jamison.
“Hard to get a clear sample from inside this guy’s pocket,” Jamison complained. “Let’s hope he’s a Pokémon fan and decides to see what’s around to catch, eh?”
Then the ambient sounds quieted. They heard the sound of a solidly closing door and the throat clearing and a rustling of fabric as the man presumably adjusted himself nearby.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mills hissed.
Austin reached into one of their lockboxes and pulled out a weapon. “I bet I can make them talk again.”
Damian put a hand on his wrist to hold it. “They all went in…they’ve all got to come out.”
“After doing what nefarious things?” Ryana asking out of prurient curiosity rather than altruism, before reaching for Austin’s gun.
“Later. I promise,” the werewolf said, pulling the weapon away.
Just what Damian needed. Austin arming his sister. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the here and now, as they all heard the sounds of more fabric, as the phone was freed from whatever pocket it’d resided in, and a distant voice grew louder.
“Our janitor’s nosy,” Mills said. “Yes. Go for it. Lean in.”
Everyone in the SUV was holding their breath collectively, even Damian, so they all heard it at the same time, clear as day: “And this is my esteemed niece, Andrea.”
Damian froze, as inside his chest, his heart—a dragon’s heart, possibly made of crystal, just like the cursed one in the box—skipped a beat and shattered.