Chapter Nineteen

Her grandmother hadn’t changed. Not one bit. She still commanded attention. And it wasn’t due to her looks, although they were striking. Svetlana had wielded power her entire life. She spoke and expected people to jump to obey her every command. But those days were over.

“You made me? And how did you do that? You blackmailed me. Drugged me. Used magic on me.” Karina strolled toward her grandmother, stopping only when one of her bodyguards raised his weapon. “I wonder why you felt you had to. Were you afraid of me, old woman?” It was probably stupid to taunt her, but Karina didn’t know what else to do. Jericho was lying on the ground, not moving. She had no idea how badly hurt he was by the drug Birch had managed to inject.

Where the hell were Sadiq, Khalil, and Enoch?

All she could do was stall.

“Afraid?” Svetlana laughed. “I think not. You were always weak.”

The men kept one eye on Jericho, most of them stunned at seeing their first drakon, but some of them, she noted, weren’t shocked at all. They’d seen one before. If she survived, she planned to question them. Extensively.

“You’re admitting your bloodline is weak.” She made a clicking sound with her tongue and shook her head. “Maybe our family shouldn’t be in charge of the Knights if we’re that damn ineffective.”

She might not know her grandmother well, but she had enough memories to recognize that pride and arrogance drove her. In that, they were similar.

“I blame your father.” Svetlana strode forward, full of confidence. Of course, her guards moved with her, keeping her between them. “My daughter came from good stock, but your father was weak.”

“Is that why you had them both killed?” She kept her tone conversational, desperately trying to give Jericho enough time to shake off the effects of the drug. She wanted to glance at him and see how he was doing, but she didn’t dare. Right now, her grandmother’s attention was on her, but that could change at any second.

“I did what needed to be done. You had such promise. You just needed guidance.”

“If you want to rule so badly, why not just do it?” She knew the answer, but the more she could keep Svetlana talking, the better.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She motioned to Jericho’s large form. “The leader of the Knights is always under attack. Although, I never expected it to come from dragons.”

“Drakons,” Karina automatically corrected as she risked a glance in his direction. He was huge in his dragon form. A light seemed to shimmer from his scales, as though a fire existed just beneath. His wings were tucked against his sides. She’d love to see him fly free as he was meant to. He’d be magnificent.

Her grandmother inclined her head. “Semantics.”

“What will you do now?” Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Birch wrapping his wound with the sleeve from his shirt. She had no idea if he would help her or not. Unlikely, especially since she’d just shot him. No, he belonged to her grandmother.

About a dozen men surrounded them. There had to be a way to get Jericho out of this. She just had to find it.

Svetlana laughed. “Why, I’m going to take the dragon you’ve conveniently placed in my path. It’s quite the gift. I’ve been hunting for one for years without success. You should be proud of your accomplishment.”

Karina’s blood ran cold. She couldn’t allow that to happen. Whatever she said or did next could mean the difference between freedom and imprisonment for Jericho.

“I own you,” her grandmother continued, “The mark may have been damaged, but you’ll always be mine.” She began speaking in a language Karina didn’t recognize. The tattoo on her shoulder burned, making her flinch.

As she chanted, a cold darkness threatened to envelop Karina, but she gritted her teeth and fought with every ounce of her being.

She would not allow Svetlana to win. There was too much at stake.

Maybe the fact that the drugs were gone from her system and the tattoo was damaged allowed her to fight. Maybe the drakon blood Jericho had given her made her stronger. She wanted to believe the power of her love for him helped her discover reserves of strength she hadn’t known she had.

Whatever the reason, she was grateful. Outwardly, she didn’t move. Inside, she waged war for her very soul. It was so cold her insides blistered. Only years of training kept her on her feet. Sweat seeped from her pores. Her lungs refused to work properly, even though she sucked in huge gulps of air.

Svetlana cast an expectant look at her.

Knowing this was going to hurt her more than the magic ever could, Karina nodded as if in agreement. “If we’re taking him, we should get on with it.” She kept her voice aloof and flat.

How she hated to even pretend to be throwing in her lot with the Knights, but she needed to thin out the crowd to get better odds of rescuing Jericho. If she could convince her grandmother she was back under her magical control, she might be able to free him at some point. It might take a while, but she’d do it or die trying.

“So eager all of a sudden,” Svetlana sneered.

Pulling on the cloak of arrogance she’d worn so easily for years, she raised an eyebrow and gave what she hoped was a haughty look. “He kidnapped me, was going to kill me. And I’m certainly not ready to give up being head of the Knights just yet.” Each word was killing her, crushing her soul, but she said them. She’d promise the devil in front of her anything, if it meant keeping Jericho safe.

…

Excruciating pain lashed him. This was worse than the drug and his drakon fire burning his innards.

He’d believed the magic of the tattoo to be broken. Somehow, Svetlana had managed to reactivate it, to gain power over Karina.

Or maybe it was simply Karina showing her true colors. A silent roar rolled through him. He locked down his body and volatile emotions in an effort to keep from setting the world around him ablaze with drakon fire.

He was glad he’d faked being knocked out by the drug. His heart burned in his chest, more smoldering ash than fire. She’d betrayed him, ready to turn on him to get back her old life.

He should have known better than to trust, to hope.

Yet, he loved her. That was his curse. Even after this, he would never hurt her.

To hell with her.

As he thought it, he knew he couldn’t write her off, would continue to try to protect her. He had no choice. She was his.

He wanted to believe it was the magic making her do this.

Life had been unkind to him in many ways, but nothing had ever devastated him to this extent. The woman meant to love him was turning her back on him.

But he had his friends, his real brothers, and they were out there in the woods somewhere, waiting for an opportunity to strike. They would not forsake him.

He was a drakon. His heart might be shattered, but he would survive. But it would have to be without her. He couldn’t risk the others.

Carefully, he cracked one eyelid, needing to see her as she joined forces once again with his enemy. She was beautiful with her dark hair flowing down her back and her chin tilted up. A warrior, she was ready to strike, to do what she needed to in order to survive.

He couldn’t blame her for that.

“How will we transport him?” Her question was a knife thrust to his already damaged heart.

“I’ll have a truck and men brought in.” Svetlana studied Karina. “I admit I expected you to put up more resistance.”

Seems they were both surprised.

Karina moved to within a step of Svetlana. The guards eased back slightly to give them some space. “You should have expected it,” she all but whispered. “After all, I am your granddaughter.”

With those ominous words, she struck. Quick as a snake, she grabbed her grandmother, yanked her forward, and wrapped her forearm around the woman’s neck. The guards reacted, guns snapping into position. Since the two women were almost the same height it was impossible for the guards to take a shot without risking hitting Svetlana. And Karina had been clever enough to put her back to him. There was no way for anyone to take a shot at her from behind with his large body blocking them.

It wasn’t only Svetlana’s men she had to worry about. The woman might be old, but she put up a struggle. Karina was young and strong and clamped her arm down harder until Svetlana was choking. He wasn’t sure if Karina was going to kill her or not. Finally, she eased up the pressure.

What in the hell was she doing?

“Now, we’re going to negotiate. Put down your weapons,” she ordered the mercenaries.

A couple of men started to do just that. “Don’t you dare,” Svetlana barked.

“Well, it’s like this.” Karina’s tone was relaxed, almost conversational. “If they don’t, I’ll kill you. Once you’re dead, I really will be the head of the Knights, and they have to obey me. If they lay down their weapons, there’s a slim chance you’ll live.”

Jericho wasn’t sure if he was shocked or proud of her actions.

“Lower your weapons,” Karina repeated.

Svetlana motioned to them and waited until they all tossed their guns onto the ground in front of them. “Now, what do you want?” Svetlana finally asked.

“We’re all going to wait until Jericho is recovered from the drug Birch managed to inject.”

He hadn’t been shocked many times in his life, but Karina was constantly doing just that. She’d pretended to betray him to get the upper hand, to protect him. Guilt and remorse filled him. He’d believed the worst.

“He’ll kill us.” It was Birch who spoke. Blood dripped down his arm and stained his clothing as he pushed to his feet. The makeshift bandage he’d fashioned from the ripped sleeve of his shirt wasn’t doing much good. He was losing a lot of blood.

“Maybe,” Karina agreed. “That’s his right.”

“You’d choose this creature over your own family?” Svetlana all but spat the words.

“Family?” Karina gave a short, sad laugh. “The only family I had was my sister, and I don’t know if she’s even still alive. You manipulated me with drugs and magic my entire life, allowing you to stifle my gift and control me.” She turned to Birch. “And you lived in my home, pretending to care, and all the while you were taking orders from her.”

Jericho’s heart broke for her.

“This creature, as you call him, never pretended to be anything other than what he was. He’s always been honest with me, brutally so. It’s more than I can say for any of you.”

Jericho and the rest of them were so focused on Karina, they’d forgotten Svetlana was a snake, a woman not to be underestimated.

He saw the flash of steel in Svetlana’s hand, heard Karina’s cry as the blade sank into her side, smelled her blood as it spilled.

With a roar that shook the very earth beneath them, he surged forward even as his friends erupted from the woods in their human forms. The guards tried to fight back but it was too late. Sadiq, Enoch, and Khalil were all deadly fighters, assassins with millennia of practice at ending human lives. They flowed—death in motion—breaking necks quickly and easily. The black-clad fighters were all dead before they realized what was happening, their bodies littering the ground.

Svetlana crouched with Karina in front of her. It was her turn now to use her granddaughter as a shield. “Stay back or I’ll finish her.” Keeping her eyes locked on Jericho, she continued to give orders. “Birch, come and get Karina.”

“What makes you think I’ll let you leave?” Jericho didn’t dare look at Karina. If he did, he knew he’d lose it completely. And right now, he needed to be calm and clearheaded. Not easy with a deadly combination of raging fury and soul-crushing guilt coursing through his veins.

Svetlana’s evil laughter rang out. “I know much about dragons, or rather drakons, if you prefer. If you haven’t already killed her, that means she’s special to you. You won’t risk her.”

“You’re taking a huge gamble assuming that.” He shifted form. Still groggy, he managed not to stagger. Naked, he walked toward them. “Maybe we just wanted to interrogate her. She knows much about the Knights.”

Svetlana put the knife to Karina’s neck. “One more step and I’ll kill her.”

He glanced down without thinking. Karina was deathly pale, her lips thinned with pain, her eyes closed. A thin cut marred her slender throat while blood continued to flow unchecked from the wound in her side.

The promise of death was mirrored in Svetlana’s eyes. This woman had killed often, even murdering members of her own family. She wouldn’t hesitate.

This was his fault. He’d pretended to be knocked out by the drug when he should have attacked, should have protected Karina better. Especially when he believed she’d been under the influence of magic.

He held up his hands. “Go, but leave Karina.”

“No.” That one word was filled with a finality that shook him. “Once she’s well again, she’ll need another tattoo. How will you survive knowing the next time she sees you, she’ll want to capture you, to drink your blood? I can make that happen.”

“No.” Karina’s word was barely a whisper, but there was strength beneath it. “I won’t let you use me to hurt him. Kill me.”

“Well, isn’t this an interesting development.” Svetlana gave an impatient glance toward Birch, who hadn’t moved but was simply watching the scene unfold. “Birch, come here. We don’t have time to waste.”

“Why?” Karina wasn’t talking to him or her grandmother but to Birch.

He shook his head and remained silent, but Svetlana was the one with the answers. “Why, haven’t you guessed? Look at him.” She grabbed Karina’s hair with her free hand and yanked her head around. Jericho could see she was having trouble breathing.

“Don’t,” Birch warned, but Svetlana wouldn’t be stopped.

“He’s my bastard son, my creation. I’ve been training him his entire life. He understands his job, and when he doesn’t, I tug on his leash.”

“Tattoo?” Karina managed to get out.

“He doesn’t need one,” Svetlana answered. “I control him the same way I did you when you were younger. He’ll do whatever I say in order to keep you alive.”

Jericho understood then that Birch was as much a victim as Karina. That didn’t mean he liked the man any better.

“Come here, Birch. Now.”

Birch obeyed, walking toward the two women with purpose. Jericho was frantically trying to figure out how to rescue Karina without getting her killed in the process. Sadiq had moved up behind the women but stayed back. He wasn’t sure if his friend would actually help save Karina or not.

It was up to him to do it.

Birch reached the women and glanced over at Jericho, their gazes meeting. He saw sorrow and guilt in the man’s dark eyes. When Birch reached down, it wasn’t Karina he grabbed, but Svetlana.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“What I should have done years ago.” Before he could kill Svetlana, she dropped Karina and dragged the knife across Birch’s throat. He stumbled back, grabbing at his neck.

“No,” Karina cried as she fell. But it was too late. Birch crumpled to the ground, blood pouring from the fatal wound.

Jericho leaped forward, putting himself between the two women.

“You think you’ll finish me, do you, dragon?” He noticed she used dragon and not drakon. Her way of reminding him that in her eyes he was no more than an animal.

“Yes.” He could not, would not allow her to walk out of this yard alive.

Svetlana’s voice rose as she chanted once again. The tattoos on his arms heated but nothing happened. The protection they’d inked on years ago held. “Waiting for something to happen, old woman?” he taunted. “You’re not as powerful as you think. You’ll tell me everything I want to know before I’m done with you.”

She read the truth in his eyes, heard it in his tone. “I think not.” Before anyone could move, she’d turned the knife on herself, plunging it into her own heart. She dropped to her knees before tumbling forward.

The cold bitch had things her own way right to the bitter end.

It was over.

When Karina released a heartbreaking sob, he turned his back on the bodies and went to her. “You’ll be okay,” he promised. No thanks to him or his brothers. They could have stopped this before it began, but hadn’t.

“I’m cold.” She was shivering now, having lost quite a bit of blood.

“I’ve got you.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her inside. “Clean up the mess. Burn the bodies, the vehicles, everything,” he ordered.

He took the stairs three at a time and carefully laid her on the bed. Before he could release her, she gripped his arms with surprising strength. “I’m sorry.”

Shocked, he reared back. “For what?”

“For what I said. I didn’t mean any of it. My tattoo burned, but I stayed strong and didn’t let her inside my head. Not this time.”

She shamed him. He should be on his knees begging her forgiveness. “I’ll be right back.” Difficult as it was, he left her lying there and went into the bathroom. A glass sat on the counter.

He manifested a claw and dragged it over his forearm. The edges started healing almost immediately, but he captured as much blood as he could. Then he cut himself again until he had the glass about a quarter full. He didn’t want to give her too much, but she needed to heal.

He couldn’t let her die.

Karina was lying on the covers, her breathing shallow and harsh, when he hurried back into the bedroom. Blood seeped from the wound in her side and trickled from the gash on her neck. He sat beside her, careful not to jar her too much as he lifted her head. “Drink.”

He feared she might object, but she closed her eyes and drank when he pressed the rim of the glass to her lips. After she’d swallowed it all, he set the glass aside and waited.

Sweat beaded on her forehead. Then she moaned and writhed in pain. He ripped her shirt, exposing the wound. It was deep. The amount of blood loss meant the knife had nicked a major organ. When she started shaking, he lay down beside her and held her against his chest, trying to force his heat into her.

Her soft whimpers flayed him like a razor-studded whip. She should never have been hurt.

He’d failed her. Deliberately. Pretending to be unconscious to see what she’d say, what she’d do. And when she’d started to play her grandmother, he’d believed her, doubting her even as she risked herself to save him.

He didn’t deserve her. Wasn’t worthy of the priceless gift he’d been given.

“I’ve got you,” he promised. He’d failed her once, but he wouldn’t again. He would spend the rest of his life protecting her. But first he’d tell her the truth about his actions outside. She deserved that much. He doubted she’d want to stay with him after that.

Heart breaking with relentless sorrow, he held her as her breathing settled and she drifted off to sleep. Something trickled down his cheek. He caught the drakon tear before it hit her. Drakons only shed tears for love and at times of deep emotion. His weren’t the normal ruby of a fire drakon, but an exquisite and rare star ruby. When held to the light, a star glinted in its center. He closed his finger around the gemstone, fisting it in his hand.

She would sleep for a while, and he needed to talk with the others. They had to clean up the mess and make plans. It was time to move on.