Chapter 4

Chapter Four

PIPER

Piper turned the teardrop gemstone over in her hands, watching the dim light from her bedside lamp gather inside its bluish-silver depths. It was the size of the end of her thumb and heavier than it looked. Other than that, it was nothing special.

So why had her father been carrying it around in a ring box?

Quinn wasn’t a trinkets person. He wasn’t sentimental either. He’d said he’d meant to lock the gemstone in “the safe”—the one in his office, she assumed. Was this thing valuable? Diamond and corundum were the most precious materials she knew of, and this gemstone was neither.

She rubbed her thumb across its smooth surface. Could it have belonged to her mother? Her parents had split up when she was eight. Piper remembered her mother departing in a storm of tears and shouts. Her father had slammed the door behind his wife, turned to Piper—who’d been hiding around the corner—and said, “That was goodbye.”

Piper had never seen her mother again. One year later, Quinn had brought home the news that Mona had died in an accident.

Grimacing, Piper stuck the stone back in the ring box and dropped it on her dresser. The ticking clock beside it read one in the morning. Stepping backward until her legs bumped her bed, she let herself fall onto the covers with a jaw-popping yawn. Tired as she was, she had no intention of sleeping.

Not with an incubus and a mercenary sharing the same floor as her.

She hadn’t been the least bit surprised that Lyre and Ash were the two daemon guests staying the night at the Consulate. Her suspicion that Ash had “encouraged” the other guests to leave was still percolating in the back of her head, but so far, she couldn’t accuse him or Lyre of any funny business. Every time she’d crept down the hall to check on them, they’d been locked in their own rooms, the doors closed.

Gazing absently at the ceiling, she considered the two daemons. Lyre was mostly harmless. He spent a night or two at the Consulate every month, taking advantage of their free room and board while also using it as a meeting place; the no-bloodshed rule was like an extra insurance policy for him while dealing with more powerful daemons.

Ash, on the other hand, was the kind of trouble other daemons came to the Consulate to escape. As much as she tried to pretend otherwise, he frightened her. It wasn’t just his threatening aura; loads of daemons radiated violence. What scared her was that Ash was a draconian, and draconians were reputed to be one of the most magically powerful castes in the realms.

She couldn’t even imagine what that kind of power was like. She had no magic, and he had all the magic a daemon could ever hope for.

Despite Ash’s unsavory reputation, the Consulate wouldn’t deny him entry as long as he obeyed the rules. Seventy years ago, before the existence of daemons became common knowledge, Consulates had provided daemons with secret sanctuaries. Nowadays, Consulates did more to mediate human-daemon conflicts than protect visiting daemons.

Piper let out a long sigh. The meeting had been going on for three hours, and it would probably continue through the night.

Swallowing another yawn, she sat up. Halfway through a sleepy stretch, she froze.

There was a cat crouched on her dresser.

No, not a cat. The creature unfurled its bat-like wings, stretching them wider than her dresser until they dwarfed its slim body. Its mottled, dark gray scales gleamed in the dim light, and a short black mane ran from the center of its forehead, down its back, and ended in a tuft at the tip of its tail.

The miniature dragon furled its wings tight to its sides again and cocked its head, large golden eyes blinking slowly.

Piper stared at it. The creature was a dragonet, and it belonged to Ash. According to her consul training, all draconians had a dragonet companion. She’d only spotted Ash’s once before. It usually stayed out of sight.

“What are you doing in here?” she whispered as she slid off her bed. “You’re very cute, but why are you in my room?”

The dragonet scrutinized Piper, tilting its head from side to side like a puzzled animal. Its folded wings quivered, and as it shuffled its small paws, Piper realized her father’s ring box was sitting between its feet.

She took a slow step closer. “Let’s get away from that, okay?”

The dragonet chirped. It opened its jaw, flashing rows of sharp teeth, and snatched the ring box with its mouth.

Piper launched at the creature. “Put that down!”

The dragonet leaped off her dresser, grabbed the wall, and ran along it like a huge bug.

“Hey!” she yelled. “Get back here with that!”

She dove for the dragonet, but it was way ahead of her. It jumped off the wall and landed in front of her bedroom door, now open a few inches. The tufted end of its tail vanished through the gap.

Piper flung the door open to see the dragonet streaking down the hall. With a furious growl, Piper charged after the creature. The hall opened into a sitting room that sat between two sets of bedrooms, and as Piper raced past, she grabbed an old paperback book from an end table. She took aim and hurled it across the room without breaking stride.

The book smacked the dragonet in the back. It did a dragon-style face-plant, yelping as it tumbled head over rump with wings and tail flailing. Piper felt instant guilt for hurting it.

The dragonet righted itself. Spotting the ring box behind the dragonet, Piper lunged for it—and almost did her own face-plant when the dragonet sprang at her. The dragonet’s little feet thumped into her head as it launched off her. It landed lightly on the floor, caught the ring box in its mouth again, and dove into an air vent, which for some stupid reason was missing its cover.

Piper dropped to her knees beside the vent and listened to the sound of claws on metal. A soft thump came from the other side of the wall.

She looked up. She was sitting right outside Ash’s room. The dragonet had run straight to Daddy.

Unmoving, Piper contemplated the door. Ash was somewhere behind it. Was he asleep? What were the chances she could sneak in and retrieve the ring box without him noticing?

She considered it for half a second. Yeah, zero.

Before she could come up with a better plan, the door popped open. Framed in the threshold, Ash looked toward the sitting room. Then he glanced down, saw her sitting at his feet, and blinked.

Piper shot up, struggling to keep her gaze on his face. He wore a sleeveless shirt that clung to the planes of his chest and left the sweep of heavy muscles on his arms bare, his fair skin flawlessly smooth in the shadows. The only other thing he wore was black cotton pants.

With a soft chirp, the dragonet hopped off the doorframe and landed on his shoulder, its golden eyes trained on Piper.

“What are you doing?” Ash asked, breaking the oh-so-awkward silence.

Piper shivered as his deep tones slid through her. How did his voice do that? Fear tickled her stomach, reminding her that she’d never been alone with him before.

Drawing herself up, she looked him square in the eye. “Your dragonet snuck into my room and stole something from me.”

His eyes held hers, and his gray irises dimmed to the color of thunderclouds. Piper was abruptly aware of how dangerously close she was standing, barely a foot of space between their bodies. She was also aware of how much taller he was, the top of her head barely reaching his chin, and how his biceps were double the circumference of her arms.

The air felt hot and electric, the hallway darker than it’d been a moment before, and adrenaline flooded her bloodstream.

She was an idiot. Such an idiot.

Daemons were territorial and hierarchical—and in her rash attempt to seem unintimidated, Piper had gotten in Ash’s space, asserted eye contact, and challenged him.

Giving in now seemed like an even worse idea, so she pushed her shoulders back, held his unblinking stare, and clenched her faintly trembling hands into fists.

Something flickered in his eyes—an emotion she couldn’t name—and he canted his head in silent question. The feeling of impending violence faded.

Relieved, Piper took two steps back to open a gap between them and said in a much more neutral tone, “Your dragonet took something from my room.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I don’t know, but I’d like it back.”

His attention turned to the dragonet.

The creature widened its golden eyes, projecting total innocence.

“Go get it,” he ordered.

Piper watched them warily. Did the dragonet understand what he was saying? How intelligent was it?

The dragonet hopped off his shoulder and disappeared into the dark room. Seconds later, it scuttled up his back to perch on his shoulder again, the ring box in its mouth. It gave Piper a resentful look as Ash held out his hand. The dragonet grudgingly dropped its prize.

Ash looked at the ring box on his palm—and his eyes darkened to rain-slicked slate in an instant. If he’d seemed dangerous a moment before, now she could scarcely breathe as the air turned heavy and suffocating. It was like she’d been submerged in power so tangible it had the crushing weight of water.

Panic sparked through her. She snatched the box off his palm and stepped back again, desperate to get away from him. He tracked her unsubtle retreat with a wolflike stare.

Predators attacked prey that ran from them.

She forced herself to stop and stand her ground, but this time, she kept her gaze on his chin. The seconds stretched, and she desperately wished she had a weapon—not that a weapon would save her.

A muscle in his cheek pulsed. “What’s in the box?”

His voice shivered all the way down her spine, deep and rumbling and dangerous.

“Nothing important,” she muttered, though she’d have preferred to say, “None of your damn business.”

Aware that he was watching her every move, she stuck the ring box back in her shirt for safe keeping. She really needed jeans with functional pockets.

He raised his eyebrows at her storage choice. She glared, daring him to comment. The silence stretched again.

Fingers whispered down her sides, then grabbed her hips and pulled them backward into a warm body. Piper wrenched forward with so much force she almost crashed into Ash. Whirling around, she let her fist fly.

It smacked solidly into Lyre’s palm, and he grinned.

“Feisty tonight,” he approved, stroking his fingers across the back of her hand. He was wearing the same t-shirt and jeans as earlier, but his feet were bare and his clothing rumpled, as though he’d been lying down moments before.

Lyre glanced at Ash. “Is this what it looks like? A midnight tryst?” He pouted. “Why wasn’t I invited?”

Recovering her wits, Piper pulled her fist out of his grip. “What are you doing? Go back to your room.”

“Would you like to come with me?” he breathed, shifting closer. His eyes darkened to shadow-dusted bronze as his gaze roved down her body and back up again, lingering in obvious places before coming to rest on her mouth.

Piper stepped back—and bumped into Ash, still standing in the doorway to his room. She was caught between him and Lyre with nowhere to go.

Oh, hell no. This was not going to happen.

Baring her teeth, she balled up her hand and drove it into Lyre’s stomach. He gasped and took a step backward. She shifted into a fighting stance and raised her fist for another strike.

Ash’s hand closed around her wrist, and he pushed her sideways. She whipped around again, but Ash now stood between her and Lyre.

Lyre’s eyes were amber again, the dark heat gone. A grimace twisted his sensual mouth as he massaged his stomach. “Was that necessary? We do in fact speak the same language. You could use words instead of your fist.”

She gave him a killing look. “Then here are some words: Don’t touch me like that. Ever.”

His gaze flicked questioningly across her face. “All right.”

She looked away. He was obviously wondering why, after all the times he’d flirted with her or teased her, she was suddenly setting a hard boundary.

It had been fun before, harmless and kind of an ego boost. It didn’t feel that way anymore.

Uncrossing her arms, she pointed at Ash’s open bedroom door. “It’s the middle of the night. Would you please go back to?—”

A deafening boom hit Piper so hard that the sound turned into an unidentifiable scream in her ears. The floor quaked beneath her feet as the entire Consulate rocked on its foundation. Dust drifted from the ceiling, and fine cracks webbed across the walls.

The noise died to intermittent crashes and clatters from somewhere below. Piper, Lyre, and Ash stood frozen in the hallway, their faces matching expressions of shock.

What the hell had just happened?