Finally her lungs burst, and she sucked in the mist. She felt it slide down her throat and change her very cells. Like the New Year’s fireworks, flashes of images blinded her. Dragons, small and large, bright and dark, filled her mind.
“What have you done to me?” she screamed, trying to push away the images.
“You are mine, and so you must become Dragon like me. You’ll have time to embrace your magick, to see the wonder of what you now are.”
She felt it inside her, the coiling energy of something foreign and dangerous. “You are evil! I will never be your wife, never!”
She ran, but there was no escape. This castle, like herself, was a jewel set in the middle of treacherous thorns. So she went back to the only sanctuary she knew: her chambers. She hurried to the window, far above the ground, and let the sun warm her cheeks while the breeze chilled the tracks of her tears.
A flutter made her eyes open. “Opal!”
The dove landed on the sill, stepping onto Garnet’s finger as easily as before. It rubbed its cheek against her palm, the heartwarming gesture it had done from the first time it landed on her hand. “I must not be too much a monster if you still come to me.” She nuzzled the bird. “Or have you come to remind me of who I really am?”
Chapter 5
Cyntag opened the door, leaned out, and yelled, “Allander!”
He held it open for several seconds, watching her for some reason—probably to make sure she didn’t dash out—and then closed it.
“What does that mean?” Probably some Spanish word meaning Bring the knives; we have dinner.
“This would be much easier if you trusted me,” he said, moving up beside her.
She leaned away, narrowing her eyes. “What would be easier?”
He released a resigned breath. “Exactly.” Then he pulled her against his hard body, one arm across her chest, the other on her forehead.
She jerked, but his hold was as tight as a locked seat belt. A seat belt with muscles. “Let me go! You want me to trust you, then you grab…” The rest of her words disintegrated as she stared at…she had no idea what it was, only that it hadn’t been there a moment before: a creature only two and a half feet tall, skin burnished red with a pointy face and black hair as wild as a flame. It perched on the corner of the desk.
Cyntag continued to grip her, though it wasn’t necessary. She’d stopped struggling.
“What…is it?”
“That’s Allander. He’s a salamander.”
“Doesn’t look like any newt I’ve ever seen.”
“Not an amphibian-type salamander. He’s a fire spirit. An Elemental. Didn’t Moncrief include them in his stories?”
“He had fire, water, earth, and spirit faeries and elves.” Anything else she remembered fled her mind as she stared at Allander.
The creature lifted his lip in a snarl, revealing cat-like teeth.
“They don’t like being stared at,” Cyntag murmured, guiding her to the mirror. Her gaze zeroed in on him first, his sharp features and then his dark eyes…except they weren’t dark. An ember like the flame atop a candle flickered in their depths, just what she thought she’d glimpsed.
“Your eyes…” Hypnotizing, tugging at some deep part of herself…
“Look at yourself, Ruby.”
The sound of her name, blanketed in the richness of his voice, shuddered through her. She pulled her gaze to her reflection and gasped. “My…” A flame dancing in an unseen breeze, in her eyes.
Movement at Cyntag’s shoulder caught her attention. The dragon—the friggin’ dragon tattoo—ran its tongue across its upper lip.
Overwhelmed, she pushed away and turned to face him. No embers in his eyes, no moving tattoo, and no whatever-the-hell that thing was sitting on his desk. She searched her reflection. Just her hazel eyes, wide and unsettled. She didn’t even think about it, just reached out and ran her fingers over his tattoo. His skin was warm but otherwise felt normal.
You’re touching him.
Yes. Soft, smooth skin. Hard muscles.
She blinked and jerked her hand back. “What did you do to me?” She ran to the desk and patted the place where the creature sat. Nothing.
“I lifted the Veil so that, through me, you could see the Hidden. It’s all here; you just can’t see, as I explained.” He ran his hand down her arm, twining his fingers with hers, and stretched her hand toward the empty space. Except it wasn’t empty, because she felt the skinny arm of the creature. Parchment skin, short, coarse hairs. “Now you can feel it.”
He released her, and she pulled her hand back. She stared at her tingling fingers as she rubbed them together, then at the desk. “It’s still there, right this second?”
“Allander, light the candle…please. They don’t speak, but they insist on respect. It’s not always reciprocated, but Allander has been with me for many years. We have an understanding.” He nodded for her to look at the candle, because her attention was riveted on him. The flame came to life.
He leaned back against the edge of the desk. “Have you ever seen something in the corner of your eye, only to look and find nothing there? Or heard a sound somewhere in your home but couldn’t find the source? How about the ubiquitous missing sock or keys that aren’t where you left them?”
He tilted his head toward the invisible being. “Elementals, usually. They’re in the non-physical plane all over the world, but we can see and touch them because of our own otherworldly essence. Some are mischievous, others a nuisance, and a few dangerous. A lot of what’s considered poltergeist activity is either their doing, demons, or Deuces.”
Something in the corner of her eye? “Sometimes I see shadows move among the parts in my resto yard, but I can never find what causes them.” No, no, no, this couldn’t be real. She focused on his last word, remembering it from Mon’s stories. “Deuces who make orbs?”
“Most can make orbs of some kind, some more deadly than others. I need to find out if there’s a select group of Deuces who can make the kind of orb you saw. That will help us narrow down who could have sent it, at least a little.”
“Us?”
“You and I have a lot of work to do before someone comes after you again.”
“Like hell I’m working, or doing anything else, with you. I need fresh air.” She grabbed at the candle, snuffing out the flame and sniffing the black wax. “You’ve got some kind of hallucinogenic substance in here. Or somewhere.”
“Those weren’t hallucinations, Ruby.”
“Stop saying my name like…that.” She reached for the door, amazed when she turned the knob and stepped into the hallway without his hand clamping onto her. She didn’t dare look back. Everything he’d told her, everything she’d seen, bounced around in her head like a hundred rubber balls.
Glesenda watched her stalk past with a puzzled expression. Outside, sunlight beckoned, and people walked past the studio, nice, normal people.
Don’t turn around. Just keep going.
Cyn watched the girl walk so fast down the sidewalk that her ass swished provocatively back and forth. He had sensed Ruby, or at least sensed the presence of an unknown Crescent, in his studio. That she’d ducked out of sight when he looked up fired his instincts. He’d followed her scent to his office. Her accusation about Moncrief’s murder shocked the hell out of him. He pulled on the shirt he’d grabbed in his office and slid into his shoes.
Glesenda followed his gaze. “Who is she? There was something odd about her. I thought I saw a flicker in her eyes, and then it wasn’t there. I was about to mention the Dragon training room but stopped myself.” The flame in her eyes danced. “If she’s a troublemaker, I can take care of her.”