Read Fire of Stars and Dragons Online

Authors: Melissa Petreshock

Fire of Stars and Dragons (2 page)

He’s watching.

“I transferred a file with the pertinent information regarding her case this morning. The harassment against Cait went on for several months, but the incident two weeks ago marks an extreme escalation in their violence. In an assault on her in the campus parking lot at the University of Massachusetts here in Boston, the attackers left her beaten and bloodied until another student found her, notifying emergency assistance.”

Self-conscious of the healing cuts and bruises on my face, I’ve covered them with makeup the best I can. Any vampire’s eyesight will see past the cover, recognizing the tiniest discolorations, lacerations, and imperfections. They don’t miss much. With the way the king sits scrutinizing my every feature, I doubt he has.

“Jennifer, send the file.” King Corrin demands, his tone sharp and authoritative, just as I expect from our monarch, a distinct contrast to his attractive physical appearance: the dark blond hair, blue-gray eyes, cleft chin, those dimples seen when working the PR angle. But there is nothing attractive about the king who sits on his throne.

A dark brown-haired secretary at a desk off to the side responds to him. “You should have it now, Your Highness.” The five men holding court pick up Sky Book tablets, scanning quickly across the screens, and I focus on a mental review of the Fae adolescent development stages, preparing for my exam tomorrow… and hoping I’ll be there taking it.

Deep growling reverberates throughout the room, but someone grabs my hand, pulling me
hard
, hiding me behind their back before I can argue, or even react, while those curious spectators packed into the courtroom now scurry out in a panic.

The body pressed against mine isn’t Mr. McCurdy, protecting the heiress to his livelihood. Towering over my five-foot-four height, back-to-back, lean, hardened muscle presses against me, radiating unnatural heat. The hand holding me as he’s prepared to defend me from any attack is large yet elegant and powerful. I dare a glance. Glossy black hair brushes his shoulders. My heart races, but I take a deep breath and peek around to see what’s happening, finding he glances down at me, curiosity dancing across his features as his eyes meet mine.

I grin and shrug. “What?” I whisper, mustering a sarcastic bite to the word.

He grins back, excitement glistening in his green eyes, but says nothing. Maybe dragons are adrenaline junkies.

Returning to my effort of peeking beyond him, the king stands, Sky Book crushed in his hands, fangs out, red-eyed in fury, and the obvious source of the ferocious growling.

Damned if I don’t have to clap my hand over my mouth, stifling ill-timed giggling, but I can’t help finding our picture-perfect king losing his composure in public funny. His family and advisors on the dais, as well as the other three Brothers of Pendragon gather around him, speaking in hushed whispers. The dragon with me makes no move to join, though he casts amused glances over his shoulder as I pull myself together.

After a minute or two, the tallest of the King’s Guard approaches us, and I come out from behind my unexpected protector, forcing a straight face. “Milady,” he addresses with an embarrassing yet flattering formal bow. “I am Sir Oliver Pendragon, Captain of the King’s Guard. His Majesty wishes to discuss this in private. Please follow me.”

His beautiful intense green eyes hold me in a mesmerizing gaze for a moment, the same coloration as the dragon who came to my aid, though different somehow. Sir Oliver’s wavy black hair has less than two inches’ length to it, and his isn’t stubble but rather a well-trimmed beard. A devastatingly handsome dragon, as they all are.

Turning his attention to his brother allows me to refocus. “What about my attorney?” I ask, gesturing to Mr. McCurdy, huddled behind a bench.

Sir Oliver shoots a disappointed glare in my lawyer’s direction. “My apologies, milady, but this is a private matter, not sovereign business. The clan invites only you.”

I’m not sure how to respond. We came here because of sovereign law broken, for a public hearing, but I don’t have the opportunity to say anything. “Give me a few moments, brother,” says the dragon still looming at my shoulder.

“Of course,” he replies after a prolonged silence, and without another word, walks away.

The long-haired dragon moves to stand facing me. “I am Theo Pendragon.” His deep voice and indescribably appealing accent quickens my pulse. “I apologize if my actions have alarmed you, Miss Hayden, or if my brother Oliver seems harsh.”

Once Theo opened his mouth, speaking straight to me, I stopped breathing, wanting to catch every nuance without the slightest distracting sound. In his unusual accent, every word is the sexiest I’ve heard spoken, with ‘apologize’ gliding out as ‘ohpohloshize,’ his brother’s name rolling off his tongue in the sound of ‘Oohleevah,’ emphasizing the ‘vah,’ and ‘harsh’ a mere ‘ahsh’ breathed in a heavy sigh.

Middle Eastern? Mediterranean? Some ancient Fae dialect? It’s unrecognizable, not distinctly British like Sir Oliver’s.

Never have I heard an accent such as Theo Pendragon’s.

Mr. McCurdy interrupts my thoughts, my dangerous attraction, playing with fire. “What’s this about her meeting with the clan alone? I cannot in good conscience allow her to go unrepresented into any negotiation regarding her rights and protection.”

The dragon’s gaze falls to the balding man, his expression dark and serious. “I assure you, Miss Hayden shall remain under my protection. I will see to her care.”

“She’s practically family to me.” I appreciate the sentiment, considering he worked for my uncle from his first day out of law school, but his voice shakes as he speaks, fear glaring in his eyes, averted from the dragon’s gaze. “Why should I trust her into your care?” he questions the King’s Guard.

Hayden Holdings does not pay this man enough to do anything so crazy.

“Dare you question the word of the Dracopraesi, the honor of the House of Pendragon?” Each syllable bears a fierce passion intense enough to burn a hole through any further argument, and my attorney shakes his head, giving me an awkward kiss on the cheek, mumbling about taking a cab home and leaving the car and driver for me as he hurries away.

“So now what?”

Theo looks at me, grinning. “You are standing in the royal courtroom with a dragon while the monarchal clan of vampires awaits you, yet you ask ‘so now what’ as if we are shopping at the Celtic Royal Galleria, and you cannot decide between the eatery market or a shoe store.” He shakes his head. “Are you sure you’re human?”

“Are you sure you’re a dragon?” I counter. “If you read my soul, why ask questions you know the answers to?”

I think he swears in something other than English under his breath.

“So now we join them in the conference room and find out what they are offering. I will ensure negotiations work as much in your favor as possible and keep you safe.” He states this without taking his eyes off mine.

“You’re going to do that for me, yet you’re one of the King’s Guard. And not just
any
of the Guard, but one of the elite four dragon brothers on the Guard.” Unbelievable.

“It is quite complicated.”

Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him. “Complicated. Why is everything with supernaturals always
complicated
?”

“As a human, do you claim your life is free of complications?” he questions. I scowl, refusing to answer. “No matter what happens inside, I ask you please remain quiet and allow me to speak on your behalf.”

“I make no promises.” He stares, unblinking, possibly wondering if I’m simply stubborn or insane, or maybe just stupid. I blink. He grins. He did ask nicely. “I’ll try.”

For a moment, we stand staring at each other then he turns and crooks his arm, offering it in a genteel manner unlike typical supernaturals I’ve known. Etiquette training teaches us from a young age how little they appreciate unwarranted physical contact.

“Shall we, Miss Hayden?”

“You can just call me Cait.” Formalities, stiff and false, are my least favorite part of high-society life.

“Not quite yet. It would be improper,” he replies.

“Do I call you Sir Pendragon?”

He laughs, a softer, kinder laughter than I expected. “No. I’ve not been knighted as Oliver has. Theo is fine, or whatever you wish. ‘Hey you’, or ‘yo, dragon dude’, if you like.” He uses a funny voice, making me giggle, which earns an easy smile from the dragon as he gazes down at me, our eyes meeting once more before opening the door leading into the private conference room, and his expression turns serious, though his voice remains gentle. “I will always respond, no matter what you choose to call me.”

I’m stunned. “Okay.” I barely remember we’re joining the king who, a matter of minutes I’d swear were hours ago, acted as though he wanted to eat someone. One of the legendary Brothers of Pendragon has me on his arm, eyeing me with an intensity threatening to burn me alive from the inside out. A vampire draining me is the least of my concerns.

 

 

*Theo*

 

 

Corrin and his brother stand away from the rest, Z dismissed as a member of the court council, not of the family. My brothers remain, guarding those of the clan within the room: Cedric, Corrin, and Evan. Dante stays as a part of such matters, tied in complicated ways. Cait would find it amusing I define the status of the Goddess’ son as such, though it is quite true.

Cedric approaches without hesitation, giving a questioning glance before reaching to take Cait’s free hand in his, her other gripping my arm, as if she thinks I may leave her. He’s gentle in his grasp, reassuring, and I make no move to stop him given the clan patriarch’s nature.

“Lord Master Corrigan,” she addresses with due respect, lowering her eyes and giving an awkward curtsy as she holds onto me for dear life, her other hand in his.

“Please, dear, call me Cedric.” His reply is warm, his voice smooth with a Gaelic accent she should enjoy. I gather she finds my accent compelling, arousing even, not what I’ve grown to expect of wards over my existence, though I’m finding everything about her unexpected, exciting.

“Excuse me?”

“You should become comfortable calling me Cedric. It’s familiar, and suitable given the circumstances,” he says by way of an explanation, but she’s still confused, and my protective instincts put me on edge. “We want to help, but there are limited options. Let us have a seat to discuss this further.”

As we move to the conference room’s table, Dante’s vivid blue eyes flicker in a discreet warning. Corrin and Evan move away from the corner where they spoke, the king confidently taking his place at the head of the table, while the concerned expression worn on the younger vampire’s face heightens my wariness.

Dante seats himself at the king’s right hand, a vital advisor when not gallivanting around the world for various research pursuits striking his fancy, both student and professor of everything. Always aware of all potential dangers, I assess everyone’s whereabouts, leading Cait to sit at Cedric’s right at the foot of the table then standing behind her with cautious awareness as Evan chooses to slip into the seat across from her rather than beside his brother.

My brothers stand guard as well, Liam at the door we entered, Clifford at the only door exiting to the rest of The Aire, Oliver dutifully at Corrin’s back. Our eyes meet, and he knows what has happened, though he will say nothing of it. The timing is inappropriate, Cait not yet understanding my place with her. Such a thing is a private matter between dragon and ward, one he would never disgrace.

“As you are well aware, Cait,” Cedric begins, and I glower down at him. She has not given him leave to call her by such a familiar name. Glancing up, somehow sensing he has misspoken, though the question of my position begs be asked, he begins again. “May I call you Cait?”

Even without the honor bond yet sealed, her unease pulls a response from me. “I believe you should explain your proposition before requesting such comfortable informalities of Miss Hayden at this time.”

“On what authority do you negotiate on her behalf?” questions Corrin with a sharp tongue, my attention snapping to him.

“The authority of the Goddess, creator of the Dracopraesi, ordaining us protectors of the innocent.” My tone is not threatening. It is lethal. Everyone in the room falls still as statues. “I have given my word to protect her. You demand a young woman meet alone with unfamiliar men, powerful beings, and have four dragons in your midst. Did you not expect one of us would take issue with such a thing?”

Gentle in resting my hand on Cait’s shoulder, I find the action lends her reassurance, her muscles becoming less rigid. My eyes remain trained on Corrin, curious how he will react. His jaw tenses, and I run my thumb over skin left bare at the collar of her dress as I wait for his response.

“Corrin.” Cedric calls out his son’s name in a calm voice. “Theo has a point. We are not trying to frighten her. Theo,” he addresses me directly, and with a final glaring warning to the young king, I turn, nodding for him to continue. “Given Miss Hayden’s age, should she be turned over to Neglected Dependent Services, law requires a marriage be arranged to provide suitable familial protection. Of course, considering her vast assets, we are not unaware of the potential for corruption within the system to prevail; therefore, we feel it is in Miss Hayden’s best interests we take direct action.”

It is an archaic practice within United Sovereign America, instituted from longstanding vampire laws, believed to ‘save’ human women from stronger, more influential supernatural beings taking advantage of them. I see a system preying on the young and innocent, incapable of protecting themselves against laws created to ensure they cannot.

“You know we have no need of her assets. They may remain in trust for her benefit as she sees fit.” He looks to Cait, offering encouragement, then meets my eyes again, and I can see his intentions unveiled. For dragons, the eyes truly are the window into the soul in the way we may read it, determining its darkness, its worth, its innocence. I stand motionless, and he knows. “This is for the best, Theo. It’s the way she will be most safe.”

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