Chapter 36 Tobias

I felt like a piece of shit.

Which was why I flew today. Pumping my powerful wings through the frigid Illinois atmosphere—nope, Lake Michigan was behind me, I was well into Michigan state now—my thoughts wouldn't stop running loops around my recent actions.

Physically, I was in top form. Feeling the icy air rush through my dragon-sized lungs was euphoric. Feeling the fire run through my veins was invigorating. Feeling my invisible scales shift with the movement of my body and knowing that not a soul on the ground below—shifter or human—would be able to see me despite it being a clear, cloudless afternoon, made me feel powerful and invincible.

I felt I could continue flying for hours, until Chicago and the Dome and the danger—and Arya and my father and my responsibilities—were thousands of miles behind me before I would need a respite.

A tiny part of me still felt like a hypocrite for leaving the Dome in the first place. I still cringed at the memory of shouting at Arya for leaving all those weeks ago to shop. I still thought it was stupid and reckless, but I shouldn't have caused such a scene. But I wasn't nearly as important as she was. Vampires weren't looking for me, and my destiny was minuscule in comparison.

I needed this. Needed the freedom of flight to help me decide what to do. But ever since I'd laid eyes on Arya, flying was no longer the mindless activity it used to be.

White fields stretched below me. Snowbanks, quiet and sparkling in the sunlight, almost looked like a blanket of diamonds from my dragon's-eye view. It was beautiful. I suddenly wished my eyes weren't the only ones enjoying them, and it wasn't Niko's or Brett's company I wanted.

I shook my head, blowing out a breath of hot air that probably looked like a small cloud that suddenly appeared, if anyone was watching. But I knew no one was.

Adjusting downward, I pointed my nose into a dive. I tucked my wings back to reduce the air friction and allowed my speed to increase, with the help of gravity, and aimed at the perfect and untouched snow below.

Building the heat inside me, I sped the pace of my heart to increase the circulation of fire running through my arteries and veins until enough built at the base of my fire chamber. Taking a deep breath, I veered at the last second and let out a jet stream of blue-white fire, evaporating and eviscerating a perfect line in the snow and uncovering the brown grass beneath. I smiled when I noticed the edges had turned to smooth ice.

I went on that way, building fire and creating lines and curves in the snow until I rose and could see the shape I'd created—a heart with letters inside reading: TD + AW.

It was simple. It was unoriginal. It wasn't math equations or history facts or anything intellectually amazing, although it was larger than two football fields. I felt better for doing it and briefly wondered if I could convince Arya to come back with me to see it .

Pushing against the air again, I lifted higher and higher into the sky until my creation was a tiny dot below me. Only then did I shake the color of my scales to a deep, rich blue color, the color I wished I'd chosen over my typical dark gray because they were the same color as Arya's eyes.

I thought about the way she looked last night. Sleeping in my bed next to me, her beautiful face serene in slumber as some dream caused her eyes to dart beneath her thickly-lashed eyelids. The hills and valleys of her naked body, her smooth skin so delectable that I couldn't help but run my fingers along her side even as she slept.

With my feelings increasing, I became more and more panicked that I'd wake up one day having finally fallen deeply in love, and then rush to find the face that could not and would not ever look at me with any hint of affection again. It happened to my mother—of course, she was already married to Lord Dracul and knew the risks and inevitability—but it could and would happen to me, too.

The air grew thinner the higher I climbed, and the oxygen decreased, making my head fall into a fuzzy haze. I needed to plateau or dive back down soon, or else I'd pass out, but through the fuzzy haze, I finally found a moment of clarity.

The vision of the Skye Boarding House history book forced itself to the forefront of my vision. I'd been studying it earlier in the day, desperately looking for more information about the Dracul curse. Questions ran through my head in rapid succession as I'd skimmed through the text and studied the few pictures peppered throughout.

What horrendous thing did Claudette Dracul do to deserve the curse?

Was she an innocent victim?

Who put the curse on her?

And why ?

On the outside, Claudette was the model shifter. She was proper and kind. She assisted other shifters in learning to use and control their powers, including an entire pack of ursas. She and Evandrus Quinn—her bodyguard—protected the humans at the house and surrounding Vancouver from a rogue vampire. During the Arctic Winter of 1899, they not only kept the boarders of the house alive but helped an entire orchard of apple trees survive—a major income source for the Skyes. Not a single apple tree was lost, which was hailed a miracle.

Claudette also stood and fought until she nearly lost her own life when the old vampire line—the Fausts—attacked and ultimately destroyed the boarding house. Leaving it in ashes.

The description didn't specify, but I was pretty sure the violet scales, scorched and littered around what was left of the house, in addition to several red-orange feathers in the same condition, belonged to the dragon-shifter Claudette and phoenix-shifter Evandrus.

A story that didn't seem important at the time suddenly connected in my analytical mind. It teetered on the tip of my tongue. Just out of reach. So I adjusted my position, no longer climbing, but not diving as if the exact quantity of breathable air would lend me the answer.

I hardly dared to move a single scale that would cause me to fly in any direction but straight ahead. I could see the glow of sunlight along the curvature of the earth at this altitude, but could hardly appreciate it until I received my answer.

A boarder, Alice Le Fey, who stayed at the house less than half a year, unexpectedly died at the claws of a dragon. It was reported as a random act of violence. The newspaper clipping had been printed right on the page and said in the unbiased, unfeeling language, that it was suspected that a migrating dragon mistook Miss Le Fey for a vampire due to recent vampire sightings in the area.

A Tragedy .

The story alone, a human girl being killed by a dragon shifter, was certainly a tragedy, but nothing noteworthy.

Except a few months later, a family of witches , five sisters in particular, visited the house. Their name was Le Fey .

I bent into a nosedive immediately and felt the rush of oxygen fill my nostrils and muddle my mind with rapid-fire thoughts again. But I finally had an answer!

What reason would a family of witches with the same name as the girl who died have to travel to the place of their close relative's death?

Unless it was for revenge.

Whether Claudette was to blame, whether she was the dragon who killed Alice or merely the scapegoat, it was possible—no, it was probable— that the group of witches cursed Claudette for Alice Le Fey's violent and tragic death.

I shouted a stream of profanities. All the ones I knew at least. Which were a lot.

What creature could bring themselves to inflict such a miserable existence on an entire family line? Murder was horrible, yes, but what they'd done was despicable and disgusting and soulless. I wished I could get just one of those damnable witches into an interrogation chamber and flip pictures of my mother's face over the years at them. The ones that were forever burned into my mind.

But that was ridiculous. Claudette lived at the turn of the twentieth century. The villainous witches were long dead and six feet under.

Except…

How had I not considered it before? It had been right in front of me all this time !

I increased my speed. I could fix this. Maybe. I could ensure my mother and sister, every living Dracul and every future Dracul, that they would never have to live another day wearing that heart-wrenching expression again. I needed to get to Chicago and back to the Dome, now.

* * *

"Here you are!" I said when I finally tracked down my girlfriend.

It was past dinner when I returned to the Dome. It was nearly lights-out when I finally found Arya hiding in Ashlyn's room.

"Hey, where have you been?" Arya asked, concerned curiosity furrowing her brow. "I was looking for you before dinner."

"Sorry, I had some last minute research to catch up on," I said.

"Um, but the new semester hasn't started yet," Ashlyn pointed out with a questioning lilt in her tone.

"It's a family thing," I interjected, shaking my head. It wasn't a lie. "Anyway, do you mind if I steal my girlfriend for the night?"

Ashlyn shrugged. "Would it matter if I said no?"

Arya chuckled and got up from Ashlyn's bed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She took my outstretched hand, and we exited into the hall together. She headed toward my room, but I stopped her with a tug on her hand.

"I thought we could stay in your room tonight," I said. "Your bed is more comfortable than mine. "

She arched an eyebrow at me but didn't argue as I led her in the opposite direction.

"So what do you want to do tonight?" she asked once we were in her room. "I think I need a break from sex after last night. You were kind of an animal."

She giggled, making the memory of how I'd ravaged her flood to the surface of my thoughts.

I eyed the tablet sitting in the middle of her bed, wondering how I could get to it without telling her the actual reason I wanted it.

"I, uh…" I scrambled, unable to think clearly between my desire for her and my current mission.

C'mon, Tobias. Tell her you need the internet. To check your email.

"How about we just watch a movie and cuddle?" she suggested.

I let out a resigned sigh. Why couldn't I just say it? "Sure."

"Want popcorn?" she asked.

I nodded with more enthusiasm than necessary. And not just because I had skipped dinner looking for her. My stomach rumbled audibly to sell the enthusiasm.

"Or a sandwich?" She twisted her mouth in a teasing way.

"Both. Please." I shrugged. "I missed dinner."

"Great. I'll be right back," she said, heading for the door. "Don't go anywhere."

"Actually, could I use your tablet a minute?" I asked, praising whatever gods dropped this window of opportunity right into my lap .

"Of course!" she said, but then waved a finger at me. "Just don't use it to look up porn or anything."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Not even on my radar."

"Good." She spun on her heel and left me alone in her room.

I snatched up her tablet and located her email icon.

I quickly located Shea's email and clicked the button to draft a message. Normally, I would avoid a witch like the plagues of the earth they were, but if a witch laid the miserable curse on my family...then maybe a witch could remove it—especially a Le Fey witch.

Shea,

I miss you! Meet me at Mack's diner in Chicago tomorrow at noon.

I can't wait to see you.

Arya