Chapter Two

ARCHER

I headed to the conference room where the heads of each family were to meet, leaving Mia in the main hall. Her anxiety had disappeared now that things had started. She was a good, bright kid, and I knew she'd represent the family well.

The generously sized room with white-painted walls and corporate blue carpet was almost filled by a series of curved oak tables, assembled to form a perfect circle. Name cards were at each seat, laid out in alphabetical order, and each place had pens and paper set out, together with a glass of water.

Locating my allotted space, I slid into the chair, unable to resist touching the table. The wood was silky smooth beneath my rough fingers, the chamfer so perfectly judged that I found myself stroking it. The rest of the furniture here was mass-market reproduction antique, but these tables were works of art, produced by a master craftsman. Had Mortimer commissioned this specifically for the moot? It was a statement—no one was at the head of this table, and no one was at the bottom. Surely he couldn't have had it made in four weeks. But then, I didn't know how long he'd been planning this meeting.

"How very Knights of the Round Table this is. I feel quite at home." A middle-aged woman sat beside me and offered her hand, her grip firm. "Margaret Teague," she said in an unmistakable West Country accent.

"Archer Talbot," I responded

Her eyes softened. "I met your father once, some years ago. I must say, you look just like him."

That was as far as the likeness between us went, for better and for worse. "I wasn't aware we had any links with your family." That sounded more unfriendly than I'd intended. "Which is a shame, of course."

"Of course," Margaret echoed, amusement in her eyes. "Perhaps we can remedy that. It's one of the changes I hoped might come out of this moot, the way each family mixes with so few others. If not for my visit with the Vanes overlapping with your family's visit by a few hours, I'd never have met your father. Don't you think that's somewhat ridiculous when we're only a few hours' drive from one another's territories?"

If we were human, ridiculous was the word. But dragons weren't like that. "Perhaps," I said guardedly. Until I knew what she was after, I wasn't going to commit to anything.

Margaret set her capacious handbag on the table in front of her and rooted around in it until she withdrew a roll of mints. "Like one?"

In the interests of politeness, I accepted. The strength of the peppermint almost blew the roof of my mouth off, but she seemed unconcerned as she took two for herself.

About to ask after her journey from Cornwall as a safe subject, I held my tongue when another dragon passed behind Margaret's chair and squeezed her shoulder. Margaret grasped the woman's hand briefly and looked up into her face with a smile. "Evelyn," she said. "Good to see you again."

I'd only mixed with three other dragon families, and the dragon who continued on around the table didn't belong to any of them. Without a last name, I couldn't place her, so I glanced at the name card behind which she was sitting down. Berstow. That wasn't a name I knew. And, like all dragons, I knew the dragon families.

Relief flooded through me, so powerful I could hardly breathe for a moment. One of the families must have split. Thank God mine wouldn't be the only family to do so. It would still be a massive failure for which I'd be responsible, but at least I wouldn't be the only one. I'd have to speak to the Berstow delegation as soon as possible. We could form a united front, standing against the condemnation of dragon society.

Drawing the pad of paper closer to me, I picked up the pen and wrote the time and date of the meeting. It gave me something to do while the rest of the seats were being filled and was safer than talking to other dragons when I didn't know what this was about.

OLLIE

"I'm going to put myself in Nate Mortimer's way." Jack ignored my wistful sigh as he glanced around the main hall. "I want to know what he's saying because he's talking to everyone."

"Except me." I pouted.

Jack rolled his eyes before jerking his head at me. "Come on."

I tried not to notice the fact he sounded more like a parent wanting to keep an eye on a troublesome toddler than my best friend. I hadn't seen this side of him before, and I didn't like it. I knew he was going to be head of our family one day, but not yet, and there was no need for this pompous, self-important crap.

He wasn't wrong about Nate Mortimer, though. Mortimer had been working his way around the room with a smoothness and ease that might look like nothing more than good manners to anyone casually observing. But it was clear that he and his partner were targeting the younger dragons in the room. He was up to something.

"Oh, there you are!" Someone grabbed my arm as I threaded my way between dragons, being extra careful not to accidentally bump into anyone as I went. My dragon bristled at the uninvited touch so close to my treasure, but when I saw the hand belonged to a slender teenage girl, I told him to calm down. "I've been looking for you," she told me.

I'd never seen her before in my life. "Oh," I said neutrally, remembering Jack's stricture not to risk offending anyone here because we didn't know what hidden networks existed between families.

"It was good to meet you," she said to a blond guy in his forties, and tugged me firmly away. Across the room, away from the blond guy and, I was sad to see, away from Nate Mortimer of the spectacular arse. And the possessive boyfriend. Perhaps it was just as well.

I let her drag me as far as the French windows that looked over the gardens, misty in the early April morning, then I dug my heels in and brought us to a halt.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do, and you looked as if you'd be nice about it," the girl said. "He's a Smythe, so practically an in-law, but something about him was off. Nothing I could put my finger on, but he made me uncomfortable, if you know what I mean."

I knew. I'd met guys that gave off bad vibes.

She tucked her dark hair behind her ear. "Anyway, thank you for that. I'm Mia Talbot, by the way. From Winchester."

"Ollie Shaw, Tunbridge Wells," I told her. "And you're welcome, even if you have destroyed any chance of me getting to talk to Nate Mortimer."

"Who?"

I looked over to where Jack was already deep in earnest-looking conversation with Nate Mortimer. Jack would wring my neck if I went over and interrupted when he was getting somewhere.

"Him," I said, and somehow stopped myself rhapsodising about his arse. I wasn't sure how old Mia was, but she definitely shouldn't be subjected to my lustful appreciation of Nate Mortimer's attributes.

She followed my gaze. "You should have blanked me and gone for it. He's hot."

"He also seems to have a boyfriend," I told her regretfully.

"The hot ones are always taken."

"As someone who's perennially single, thank you very much," I said.

She flushed crimson. "Not—I mean—you sod ," she added when I grinned at her.

I had no delusions about my looks. I was hot enough never to sleep alone if I didn't want to. Or easy enough. Depended on your point of view.

Mia examined Mortimer more closely and wrinkled her nose. "On second thoughts, he's a bit old, isn't he?"

I choked. He couldn't be more than thirty. "Which makes me ancient, too?" Perhaps to a teenager, twenty-two was old.

She looked me up and down, a lurking grin in her eyes. "Nah, you've still got a bit of shelf life left."

I couldn't work out if I loved her or hated her.

"So why do you think the Mortimers have called this meeting?" she asked. "I heard some drag—people talking earlier, and they said there'd been a falling out between the Mortimers and the Fortescues. Maybe Mortimer's making sure we all know he's still in charge if the usual order is unsettled."

"Makes sense," I agreed. "I'd like to know what he's telling them in that meeting. D'you think your head of family will tell you?" I wasn't sure how forthcoming Jack's dad would be with me. He'd probably tell Jack everything, but I was beginning to understand there was an invisible wall between me and Jack now, and there probably always would be.

"He damn well better," she declared, a martial light in her eyes. "He's my brother."

"So you're next in line—" I checked myself. "Sorry. That's none of my business."

"No, you're good. I guess you want to know why I'm here when I'm so young. It was Archer's decision, and he's always right."

He was? He sounded insufferable. "I'm only along as light relief," I confessed. "They needed someone at the last minute to make up numbers without causing a political nightmare and a possible rift in the family."

Something flashed across her face, too fast to identify.

"I'm exaggerating," I clarified quickly. "But there would have been some industrial-grade fireworks because the next in line to be invited are twins, and with only one of them able to be offered a place..."

"Oh," Mia said. "That must be difficult."

Difficult wasn't the word I'd choose to describe Jack's twin aunts. Dragonish would be more like it—swift to anger and slow to forgive.

"Winchester's quite close to here, isn't it?" I asked. "Do you know Avebury? I want to visit the standing stones while I'm here."

She shrugged. "I don't know what the big deal is about them. Archer used to drag us up here for a fun, family day out"—the heavy sarcasm in her voice wavered slightly on family—"but they're just stones. And a big ditch. The best part of it is the ice cream shop in the village."

"Now you have my attention," I told her, and as we headed into a conversation about the best ice cream we'd ever tasted—butterscotch for Mia, Cointreau that was about ninety-five per cent proof for me—I forgot all about dragon politics and Abimelech Mortimer's cold eyes staring so threateningly at me. Maybe Mia would want to be my spa buddy later. This was turning out to be fun.