Crimson Veil

Page 15

I carried the scroll back inside the passage and slid it into one of the latticed holes, then returned to the shore of the river. We walked downstream about twenty yards and Rozurial tried the trace again.
“Works like a charm.” Laughing at his own joke, he tucked the amulet around his neck—it was on a leather thong—and slid it beneath his shirt. “I guess we’re done here.”
“As much as we can be.” I stared up at the stairwell. “I really don’t want to climb all the way back up. Would you mind if I turned into a bat and flew up?”
Roz laughed. “I’ll do you one better. I can carry you through the Ionyc Seas to the top, now that I’ve seen it. I couldn’t carry us down because I wasn’t sure where the hell we were going, and stepping off the Sea could have landed us in the wrong place, as in plunging us to our death wrong place. But now that I know my target, we can journey up the easy way.”
He opened his arms and I stepped into his embrace. As the world faded away, he swept us into the swirling sea of energy that connected all the realms. The Ionyc Seas kept the planes of existence separate and from running into each other, which would not have a been a good thing. Come to think of it, the Ionyc Seas were like natural portals.
The journey was short and we stepped out of the mists into Smoky’s living room, about three feet from the drop-off. I took an involuntary step back—the sudden swirl of the ravine into which we had plunged seemed all too terrifyingly deep. The plus side was that Roz had been down there now. And if we had to go again, he could shift through the Ionyc Seas to get there. I was pretty sure Smoky could, too, for that matter. I had no doubt he had been to the bottom, and that he knew every nook and cranny of the cavern. Dragons weren’t stupid, and he wouldn’t have allowed any surprise denizens to have access to his barrow.
Smoky was sitting there, reading a book. He glanced up at us, then carefully marked his place with a silver cord and closed the volume, setting it back on the coffee table.
“You are done?” He stood, towering over me—the dragon was six-four and his hair was longer than I was tall.
I nodded. “We are. And there’s a magical trace on the scroll. Roz thought to bring one.”
Smoky cocked his head. He had a natural antipathy toward the incubus, but they worked well together when needed. It was a stupid rivalry, brought on by one indiscretion Roz had made with Camille—involving his hand on her butt—and it had led to a thrashing the incubus would likely never forget, but the two were good-natured in their threats now.
“Well, nice to know there are other thoughts rolling around in his brain beyond getting laid.” Smoky snorted, and then motioned to the door. “We need to leave. I do not want to miss my kin and it’s been two hours since we arrived here. I will not mess with the barrow time just to buy back one hundred and twenty minutes.”
I stopped, staring at him. “What do you mean?”
“You know time in barrows runs differently than time on the outside, if we choose to make it so. But doing so can produce severe ramifications, as well as causing discontinuity issues.”
“I thought only Fae barrow mounds worked like that.” I was confused now. I’d never heard any stories of dragons being able to mess with time.
But the galoot gave me a smirk. “What kind of mound do you think this originally was?”
Incredulous now, I rested my hands on my hips. “You aren’t serious? Then Titania was telling the truth and this was her barrow and you ousted her from it?” Somehow, this didn’t come as a great surprise, but still…
Smoky stared at the ceiling. “The woman was deep in her cups. She wasn’t taking care of it, and it was the perfect space for me to both live in and also change into my dragon form.” Then, a little more belligerently, he added, “I am not defending my actions to you, woman. You may be my sister-in-law, but I answer to no one.”
“Except Camille.” I couldn’t help it, I was feeling my usual smart-ass self. “Right, Roz?”
But the incubus was smart. He shook his head, holding up his hands. “I’m staying out of this one. So not going there!”
“Smart move.” Grumbling, Smoky motioned for us to head outside. Once we were through the wards, Smoky set them up again—with a wave of the hand and a tangible feel of some sort of magic wafting off him—and then he turned back to us. “Come. Time to fly.”
As he enfolded me in his arms, Roz vanished. And then Smoky stepped into the Ionyc Seas, carrying me with him, and we headed home.
We appeared on the porch. Smoky released me and stiffened. “They’re here.”
“The dragons?” I glanced at him and he nodded. As I reached for the door, he stepped in front of me.
“Let me go in first. Just… in case.” His warning look was enough. Dragons were volatile creatures, and even though Shade was there to try to smooth the waters should anything happen, the chance that one half-dragon could hold against several full-bloods was small.
I stepped back to allow Smoky to enter first. Roz swung in behind him, and I came last. There were voices coming from the living room—loud, and for a moment I thought there was an argument going on. But as we entered the room, I saw that Shade was in the corner, laughing his ass off, and next to him, sitting on a footstool, was a woman with skin the same color as his—coffee and cream.
His sister. Lash—this had to be Lash. Her eyes were brilliant topaz and she had hair the color of spun caramel. Clinging to her ample curves, a silky gown the color of ivy, with orange flames licking the hem, showed off her rippling muscles. Not many people could work the color orange, but it was obvious that this woman could make just about anything look good.
Shade stood as we came into the room. I glanced around. Camille was nowhere to be seen, but Delilah was sitting primly on the sofa and she looked like the cat who had been caught by the canary. And what the hell… Delilah was wearing… a dress? Delilah never wore dresses except for rituals. And frankly, though she looked good in them, with her personality, they always seemed off. Our Kitten just wasn’t a gurly gurl in any shape or form of the word.
She was wearing a slightly-above-the-knee-length olive green sheath, belted with a brown leather band, and she had on flats—loafers. But with the spiky hair and the deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face, she looked like some demented Bambi. Her hands were firmly folded in her lap, and she had a smile plastered on her face.
I glanced over at Shade. He seemed intent on talking to his sister, and I had the feeling he had no clue how terrified Delilah was. I slid over to her side and sat down, prying one of her hands out of her lap and holding it firmly in my own. As she caught her breath, the tension transmitting through her body like a radio beacon.
“Hey, aren’t you going to introduce us?” I glanced over my shoulder, nodding at Lash.
She cleared her throat. “Yeah… I’m sorry—I…”
Smoky suddenly appeared by my side. He reached across and took Delilah’s hand, pulling her to her feet. He gave her a courtly bow. “Sister, you look lovely today.” Then he turned to Shade and Lash. “Perhaps you will introduce me to your future sister-in-law?”
Lash took in Smoky, her eyes growing wide. And then I understood. Smoky was the son of an influential and powerful dragon. He was half-silver, and that put him at the top of the food chain in the Dragon Reaches. He was also full-blood dragon, and Lash and Shade were only half.
Lash slowly stood. Shade stood beside her. Delilah, holding Smoky’s arm, led the way to their corner where they were having their reunion. Lash gave her a look that I couldn’t quite read—it wasn’t scornful, but it was aloof, and a little too haughty for my tastes. But with another look at Smoky, she tentatively smiled.
Delilah cleared her throat. “Smoky, may I introduce Lash—Shade’s sister? Lash, this is Smoky, one of my sister Camille’s husbands.”
“Her only dragon husband,” Smoky interjected with a smile. “Charmed to meet you.” He gave Lash a long nod, polite, but did not offer his hand. Hmm. He was up to a power play. By putting his support behind Delilah, he was giving her a one-up on Lash. Which would give her standing in the dragon realm.
Lash blinked. “You are Delilah’s brother-in-law?”
Smoky’s expression took on a somber look. “Most happily, I might add. You are lucky to be gaining such a brave and talented woman as part of your family. I consider myself fortunate to be aligned with the D’Artigo household.”
He was laying it on a little thick, but then again, in the realm of the dragons, formality counted and sparring via words and lineage was commonplace. As he gazed into Lash’s eyes, she shuddered, then forced a smile to her face as she turned to Delilah.
“We are lucky, I’m sure, and I’m grateful to be gaining a sister.” She glanced over at me and Delilah pounced, quickly picking up on the interplay that had passed beneath the surface.
“Lash, may I present my other sister—Menolly.”
I gave Lash a nod, not bothering to offer my hand. I had no use for head games and lineage snobs—we’d had enough of that shoved down our throats when we lived in Otherworld. But I gave her a fangy smile.
“You’re a vampire.” It was a statement, neither disdainful nor approving. She cocked her head; the topaz irises of her eyes were glowing, encircled with a purple ring. “You exist more within our world than most of the mortals we have met.”
“That’s right. You and Shade come from the Netherworld. You live in a land of spirits and ghosts.” I had known this, but I suddenly understood the connection she was making. I was dead—well, one of the undead, if you wanted to be technical about it—and that made me more understandable to her. “You do know that Delilah is a Death Maiden?”
Delilah gave me an odd look, but Lash let out a soft sound and turned to her brother. “You did not tell me that your fiancée is marked by the Autumn Lord. I should have sensed her connection.” She stepped forward, brushing Delilah’s bangs back from her forehead. “The mark—you do bear it. And your arms…”
Delilah held out her arms. The orange and black leaves and vines winding up her forearms had grown vivid over the past couple weeks. She straightened, and for the first time since we’d returned home, she seemed like herself again.
She tipped her head up to look at Lash—the half-dragon, half-Stradolan woman was a good six-five, and with a soft sigh, her shoulders relaxed. “I belong to the Autumn Lord, yes. He is the one who picked Shade for me.”
“And it is a match meant to be.” Shade wrapped his arm around Delilah’s shoulder. He glanced at her, a soft light in his eyes. “You are nervous, aren’t you, my love?”
She shrugged. “What can I say? You bring your sister here, you ask me to dress up when I never dress up… I know I’m being scrutinized as to whether I’m worthy to be your wife.”
Lash frowned. “My brother asked you to dress up for me? You do not normally wear… this sort of wear?”
Delilah snorted. “Are you kidding? I’m more comfortable in jeans and a tank top, but I love your brother and wanted to make a good impression on you for his sake.”
Whirling around, Lash faced Shade. “How could you ask her to be other than she is? Men, you are all alike.” She motioned to Delilah. “Go, change into whatever is comfortable. My brother is as dense as most of his gender. And yes, you are right, I was sent here to observe you for my family but… I have a change of heart. I want to get to know you—not just carry tales home. And if you have the support of Iampaatar’s family… then I offer you my support.”
Smoky chuckled. “As you should. Camille and her sisters… well… you will learn.”
As Delilah excused herself and ran off upstairs, Camille entered the room. She yawned and I realized that she was looking a little tired. We’d all been under a fuckton of strain over the past couple of weeks, and with Father’s death, the stress had just exacerbated.
She leaned into Smoky’s embrace as he introduced her to Lash, who gave her a surprisingly docile nod.
“Tired, love?” Smoky leaned down to kiss her head, a tendril of his hair reaching up to stroke her arm.
“Yes… but the evening is far from over.” Camille let Smoky sweep her up into his arms as he carried her over to the rocking chair, where he sat, placing her firmly on his lap.
Shade motioned for Lash to join him on the sofa. Vanzir and Roz were heading out of the room when a noise from the corner alerted us. Within seconds, a blur shifted in the air, and then a woman and two men appeared. Tall and brilliant, sparkling with power, the woman gave us a gracious smile.
Smoky and Camille jumped to their feet.
“Mother!” Smoky moved forward, dropping to one knee as he pressed her hand to his lips.
“Iampaatar… Camille… we are here to retrieve your… parcels and to bring you a message from the Lords of the Realm. The dragons are discussing joining your war efforts in Otherworld. I have brought the Wing Liege and one of my private guards with me tonight. We have much to discuss.”
And with that, Vishana, Smoky’s mother, strode over to the recliner and settled back, crossing her legs on the raised footrest, as Lash sank to her knees, her eyes fastened on the silver dragon as a look of awe swept over her face.
Oh yes, this was about to get interesting.
Chapter 8
Vishana was a striking woman—well, all dragons were striking when in their human form. But that was simply an illusion. The dragon behind the human form seeped through. Seven feet tall in human form, Vishana was pale to the point of being an ice sheet in the frozen north. Her eyes were the color of gunmetal, and her hair flowed down past her ass, silver with a sheen of blue sparkling through. Her tresses—like Smoky’s—writhed on their own, shifting as if with her moods. She was wearing a long white dress, elegant with silver embroidery, and a cloak as blue as the early dawn.