35. Jaiyana

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

JAIYANA

F rick, feck, fork, fuck.

My accountant’s text had been brief and to the point. Drukpa Petit was a two-bit young mage who murdered his father to take over the family business. Which, based on Rehan’s description of the man, was exactly what I feared: Magical artifacts. We were walking into a magical armory of supernatural weapons.

On the plus side, a piece of Gorm’s casket is right up his alley.

On the negative side, if he is a collector, what are the chances he’s trafficking people as well? How much would someone pay for a dragon shifter?

A cold shiver ran down my back.

I should have told my mates. But the information didn’t change our plan. Almost any obstacle could be overcome with enough confidence. It was our only advantage. I couldn’t risk taking that away from them.

A bad feeling ate at my gut.

You’re handicapping them. You know it, and now Rehan’s calling you on it.

Rehan. My rock. My blood chilled, and I forced myself to take a breath, expelling my anger and focusing.

Caoimhe first.

Despite being cloaked in Og’s invisibility spell, Drukpa watched us approach his fortress. I didn’t know that for a fact, but if I were Drukpa, seeing through invisibility spells would be high on my list of security measures. But he didn’t know I knew, which is where we would still have our advantage. In addition, I lived during the building of these forts. I knew them like the back of my hand.

We came to the massive medieval tower, only to find the base of it expanded by an oversized garage.

Like the back of your hand, if someone turned it into a foot and gave it a pedicure.

My already rushing nerves danced uneasily.

With both our muscle hanging back and Og unable to cast his invisibility spell and wear his scaly armor at the same time, I pushed Lux to the front of our little conga line.

The air prince easily broke the lock on the garage door. I waited for a group of burly men, or shifters, or something to pop out and attack us. But nothing happened. Og pushed me through the entrance after Lux and Tenzin.

My bad feeling doubled.

We crept through a small collection of luxury SUVs before continuing into the tower. Clean, smooth wood covered the walls, and light herringbone textured the floor. The hall lights were dimmed but on. After making two rights and following Tenzin past countless doors without even checking them, my gut twisted into a knot of unease.

Something was very, very wrong.

We crossed into the hollowed-out center of the building. A vaulted ceiling, definitely not in the original floor plan, went up at least three stories, ending at a wood roof covered in glass skylights. Starlight lit the space while murky shadows clung to every surface.

It’s a trap. The catfish man from Starwars yelled in my head.

“She’s in there.” Tenzin’s right foot slid through the large arched entry.

“Wait—" I started to say, but the young dragon had already darted the rest of the way in.

I put out my arms, keeping my mates from following. At Tenzin’s entrance, every light sprang to life. Og’s spell vanished. Black and white turned to rich woods and purples. A massive backlit Victorian bar filled with liquor sparkled along the side. To my direct left, a gigantic unlit hearth sat next to a pool table. Opulent black leather furnishing dotted everything like thoughtless inkblots.

“Caoimhe!” Tenzin yelled, racing forward.

My gaze snapped to the far side of the room where a theatre, complete with red and gold curtains, sat on a raised platform. Although the curtains to the stage were drawn, Caoimhe sat front and center in a massive throne-like chair.

She still looked like Caoimhe, but her delicate nymph form replaced her human glamor. Her features now ended at delicate points, and dark glowing coals ran in harsh lines down her neck and chest before disappearing into the little yellow sun dress she’d picked out for the evening. A gold chain necklace with a massive axinite gem hung from her long, delicate neck and came to rest on her stomach, clashing horribly with the dress.

Although her eyes glowed with her fire elemental magic, they stared at nothing. She didn’t react to Tenzin’s voice.

Halfway to his mate, Tenzin suddenly slowed as if he’d hit a wall of gelatin. His wings sprouted out of his back, and he beat them once, trying to push through whatever was holding him back. But his wings stuck to the air like glue. In two steps, he went from a flat-out sprint to still. As soon as his momentum stopped, like a rubber band, he snapped back to where he first slowed. Two sharp cracks pierced the air, followed by Tenzin’s agonizing scream. His scales vanished, and blood ran down his naked back from two bloody stumps where his wings separated from his body.

Lux shook so hard it vibrated my shoulder and his face turned the same color as his hair. On my other side, Og sucked in a horrified breath and pulled his shoulders back as if they could hold his wings in place. Sympathetic pain pinched my back, and my heart skipped a beat.

“He’s a dragon shifter,” I said, not knowing if what I said was true or not. “They will grow back when he shifts… they will.” I echoed as if saying it made it true. “We need to focus. Whatever you do, don’t touch that barrier.”

I bent my knees as if I was going to do something, but bodies swarmed out of doors and surrounded us on either side of the hall. The sizzle of magic and the click of guns echoed on the bare walls as two groups of Kevlar-covered men blocked our exits. Bits of jewelry sparkled off their wrists and hands.

“Dragon shifters,” a voice boomed, stepping out from behind the curtain on the stage.

The tall, thin man Rehan described to me clapped. A crisp white shirt and black slacks underplayed the vast amount of jewels hanging off him. He put his ring-covered hand on the back of Caoimhe’s chair. Metal clicked against wood, and the axinite gem on Caoimhe’s chest glowed.

“That’s the guy from the bar,” Og whispered.

The mage. I wanted to correct Og, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I hadn’t done a bloody thing to help them learn about the world outside their island. Fuck me.

The barrel of a gun prodded me forward, and I stepped into the massive center of the fortress with Lux and Og at my heels.

“Dragon Shifters,” the man said. “I’m going to make a fortune, maybe even keep one of you for myself.”

My blood chilled. It hadn’t only been Caoimhe sitting in those bars, but my mates. Dragon shifters who hadn’t been seen in the world in over a hundred years. Anyone with a third eye would have noticed how unique they were. Even the dumb Orcs in London figured it out.

I should have known better.

Rehan was right. I hadn’t given anything a second thought. I just kept running forward like that would fix everything.

Now you’re getting it, Jay. Remove head from ass.

Drukpa looked at Tenzin like the dragon shifter was a prize bull. I wanted to be sick. Slavery. Drukpa wanted to do the exact thing I feared I’d done to them.

Og pressed into my side, and I found the barrel of a colossal gun pressed to his very human temple. Several of the gunmen stepped back and went down on one knee, keeping their massive 375-caliber rifles meant for elephants aimed at my dragons. The magic wielders, their power growing out of the rings and thick bracelets on their wrists, stayed close. Magic of every color sizzled in the air.

I didn’t have magic.

I didn’t have a plan.

I failed my guys in every way possible.

I swallowed down bile and forced myself to take a deep breath. Despite my calming ritual, my knees still trembled. When I got my magic back, I was cutting out and selling whatever organ forced me to feel emotions.

That’s your brain, babes. Good luck with that.

Drukpa walked past Caoimhe and descended a short flight of stairs. One of the many rings on his finger glowed yellow, and he stepped through whatever spell held Tenzin in place. The dragon shifter twitched, still fighting but with little to show for it.

Drukpa’s third eye blazed to life on his forehead in a ball of sickly yellow. I purposely kept mine closed and tried to look small. He studied each of my mates, his grin growing wider and wider before his gaze came to rest on me.

He closed his third eye and cocked his head to the side. “You. I recognize you. You stole my piece of Goram’s Casket.” He snarled. “You used a portal to break through layers of security. Took out two of my best men and exited without leaving a trace.” His nostrils flared as he searched my body for any sign of my supernatural abilities.

Suddenly, his gaze darted around as if realizing not all the dragon shifters he’d accounted for were present. I watched as his arrogance melted into something I was more familiar with… fear.

“Kill her, now!” Drukpa yelled as four of the bracelets on his wrists glowed and surrounded him in layers of magical shields. “Don’t harm my dragons.”

Every gun and prepared spell instantly focused on me. Although I had a snarky comment on my lips, I abandoned it in favor of a running leap for the bar.

It always comes back to alcohol with you, doesn’t it?

Bullets and magic whizzed past me. I managed to get a layer of Lux’s air magic around my legs just as a projectile sunk into my calf. Pain blossomed, but no blood ran down my skin. I hit the bar hard, bouncing off the top, and rolled behind it. Glass bottles clinked in my wake, juxtaposing the blooming chaos.

A literal storm of wind and lightning crashed around Lux while the ground rocked and rolled under our assailant's feet from Og’s earth magic. Although Drukpa’s minions turned their attention to me, they now fought for balance. One of Drukpa’s minions pulled the trigger of his massive gun. The shot went wide, hitting a short magic minion. The side of his head exploded. Blood and brain matter flew into the air and the body dropped lifeless to the floor.

I froze. That would have taken out one of my mates even covered in scales.

Girl, that could have been your head.

I was still wearing my little jean shorts and a tank top…what was I doing?

Drukpa bellowed and charged through the storm. He rammed Lux, making the air dragon’s wind magic fail. Og screamed and, with claws extended, swiped at Drukpa’s exposed back. But the jewelry-covered mage was ready for it. Something glowed a dirty yellow from under his white shirt, and a ghostly hand surged out of his back and grabbed Og by the throat.

My warlock’s earth magic dropped, and the floor stabilized. One of Drukpa’s magic users had been waiting for it. He bellowed. A stream of white-hot magic zapped Og, who arched up in pain as he dangled from the hand of the shadow jutting out of Drukpa’s back.

I still hadn’t moved from where I’d landed behind the bar. My mates were losing. A single mage, covered in stolen magical tickets, was wiping the floor with them.

Anger heightened my senses. The all-powerful enchantress Jaiyana’s mates didn’t lose. They were a team of elemental dragons who should have walked into this fortress and leveled it.

Except we weren’t a team, and that was my fault.

Don’t ask what we're doing. Just fix it.

I stayed behind the bar, but I called on my mate’s elements. Distracting Drukpa’s minions and adding what chaos I could as I racked my brain for answers.

Lux’s eyes flashed with rage, seeing Og’s neck slowly being squeezed by Drukpa’s mage hand. He grew his horns and charged forward like a bull.

Rehan was right. I told him my mates were tools to be used… but I hadn’t sharpened them or picked them up. I just avoided them because they made me happy.

What is wrong with me?

Do you enjoy being miserable?

I mean, maybe? But wouldn’t that make us happy?

Yeah, probably.

What is actually involved in the act of being happy?

Generally, power, control, acknowledgment, and value.

We have power.

We had power…and even then, we weren’t happy, memory loss or not.

A vein in my forehead pulsed unhappily.

I value myself, right?

Bitch, you don’t even believe your emotions are valid. Rehan wasn’t wrong. We removed ourselves from the world just as thoroughly as dragons did. Did it fix anything?

Drukpa stepped to the side of Lux’s charge, and one of his minions sent a bolt of electricity directly into the air prince’s horns. Unfortunately for Drukpa, my mates were very used to being shocked at this point. Lux shrugged it off and turned to charge again.

This time, he went low and managed to kick Drukpa in the balls. Despite all his shields, the mage’s eyes went wide with pain. His shadowy hand eased, and Og used the opportunity to dive forward and grab for the base of the shadowy hand dangling his body mid-air. Og’s fingers jammed against a force of dirty yellow before they could even touch Drukpa’s magic fist.

“You will submit to me!” Drukpa boomed. “I make this world better by giving the lost homes. You need me.”

Drukpa’s words hit me between the eyes. He wasn’t giving the lost homes. My dragons clearly were not lost. No one needed Drukpa. Yet he held himself above everyone.

If this piece of shit could value himself, why couldn’t I?

A tear ran down my face, stinging my broken nose. Self-pity ate at me, and I started to berate myself before stopping. Og called me a hypocrite for precisely this. Emotions were never wrong. Their source could be questionable, but once I felt something, it was raw and honest. The more I punished myself for feeling them, the less I dealt with them. And that’s what got us here. I needed to be honest with myself like my stupid fucking mates asked me to do in the first place.

Familiar power floated at my fingertips. My magic hummed, and my heartbeat thudded in my ears. I reached for me, for my magic which I didn’t know how to exist without, only to have it sucked towards my chest and vanish.

My soul squeezed. “Come back. I lied to myself…I was a dick. I didn’t listen.” Nothing tingled at my fingertips. “I’m a piece of shit. What do you need me to say to fix this?”

Lux jumped back, and another ball of white-hot electric power shot toward him. This time, Lux called on his wind magic and tore apart the storm with his own. Power crashed and boomed through the vaulted space. Lux charged Drukpa, who flew backward and finally released Og.

Gasping for breath, my warlock called on his scales and pressed his backside into Lux. The two rested against each other as Drukpa and his minions circled like sharks.

I put my mates in this position. Me. Two dragons should eat the average supernatural for breakfast, but only if they knew how to cook it. I hadn’t even given the men I cared about a recipe book.

My last hour of existence, from Rehan’s brutally honest betrayal to almost getting my magic back, funneled into one emotion: rage. I stood, grabbed the closest bottle of liquor that looked 100 proof, and shattered the neck on the bar.

“Fuck this,” I screamed, forcing everyone’s attention back on me.

I took a swig of liquor and spit it out, lighting the stream on fire with Tyson’s magic. Was it completely unnecessary? Yes. But did it look cool as hell? Also, yes.

As the final bits of liquor left my mouth, I pulled every bit of elemental power I could harness at once into my chest. Maybe if I just made a big enough explosion, it would force my magic back into existence. “DUCK!”

Og hit the floor, but Lux did the opposite. Using his air magic, he leapt toward the ceiling, and his wings snapped out of his back. My blast exploded, hitting the gunmen and sending Lux on a crash course with the ceiling. Although I prayed my mate corrected his trajectory, the gunmen were my priority. Two of them were still on their feet despite my blast. Smoking shields came off their gold-bangled wrists. Three shots went off. Lux screamed, and a shower of blood dropped like rain.

“Not the dragons!” Drukpa screamed as two more shots fired.

Two rounds ripped through Tenzin, and he screamed in pain. A thick line of dark blood dribbled down his mostly shirtless back. Caoimhe wailed, though her gaze still focused on nothing.

I had no magic. I couldn’t even fix my fucking nose, much less bullet holes. My anger boiled into rage. I charged the closest gunman. I wasn’t the world’s best martial artist, but I struck out with a basic sidekick and nailed the guy's still-smoking rifle, so it hit him hard in the temple.

Another round went off from a gunman still on the ground.

The sound of roaring dragons filled the air, and glass rained down on us, along with a massive chandelier. Fire streaked above, announcing Tyson’s entrance. Drukpa screamed as the glass light fixture fell directly toward his head, only to have one of his minions rush him from the side and send him sprawling. The chandelier crashed exactly where he’d been standing.

Another gun fired.

“Ogden!” I screamed. “Cover Tenzin.”

I had no idea if the warlock heard me, but I rolled toward another gunman. With my right hand, I gripped nothing, and with my left, I channeled fire into a dense mass, pulling a sword out of thin air. A mad grin would have split my face if my nose wasn’t throbbing like a son of a bitch.

I had value. I could make a fucking fire sword!

I paused, waiting for the tingle of my magic. But nothing appeared.

What the fuck do you want, curse?

Maybe we need to reassess our definition of value.

I screamed, and my blade of Tyson’s fire danced with blue flames as if I could prove myself wrong with my sheer power of will. The flickering flames reflected off the pupils of the two gunmen in front of me. I swung my sword toward the tips of their rifles, only the fire went right through them without melting anything.

I moaned. “Really?”

Both men re-aimed their guns directly at me. The world slowed down. This was how I died: angry at the people trying to help me while I tried to save someone who never should have needed saving.

It’s better than dying by a random spider, right?

Another dragon’s roar split the air, and Rehan dropped from the sky, crushing both gunmen under one massive, clawed foot. A minion sent streaks of hot white electricity at Rehan’s legs. Rehan’s dragon head simply lowered, and he bit the minion in half. The guy’s legs fell out of one side of Rehan’s mouth while his shoulders and vacant gaze hit the herringbone floor with a wet squelch. Blood dripped out of Rehan’s maw as he looked for his next target. Rifles fell to the floor. I looked pointedly at the bracelets and rings covering the remaining magic user's hands. They almost tore their arms off, shedding them before falling to their knees with their hands up.

The few remaining gunmen released their weapons. Rehan shifted into his scale-covered human form and kicked guns and jewelry toward the far wall. A rush of water flooded each rifle, popping out seams and destroying springs.

No longer faced with a dragon, one of the gunmen decided to be brave. He dove for his rifle again, only to find his head encased in a bubble of water. The rest of the minions cowered.

With Rehan now in control, I turned my attention to the main fight, only to find Og standing face-to-face with Drukpa while Lux flanked him. Blood ran down Lux’s missing leg from a bullet hole clean through his thigh muscle.

Maybe they aren’t hopeless. Flanking is a good tactic.

If Lux wasn’t bleeding out.

Og darted forward with a fist of claws and earth magic and swung. Drukpa dropped to the ground before Og’s punch could land. The warlock spun with his own momentum while Drukpa crossed his legs as if the violence around him didn’t exist. Every piece of jewelry he wore glowed, creating a muddy swirl of colors permeating the room. My limbs grew heavy. I blinked too slowly for the heat of battle. Og and Lux both shook before Lux’s single leg gave out, and he fell to the floor.

I pulled Tyson’s fire into my hands and shot a fireball toward Drukpa, but the elemental magic died in the wave of muddy energy washing through us.

“I will end this,” Drukpa said, his voice booming through the heavy air.

Hot flames engulfed Drukpa from above, followed by a bellowing dragon roar. Tyson, with his wings tucked into his sides, streaked down from the heavens. For a moment, I thought he’d eat Drukpa, just like Rehan had his minions. But like us, Drukpa’s magic sank into my fire prince. His eyes glazed, and his extended claws softened.

Tyson’s controlled dive turned into a free fall. Except he was a massive three-story dragon who took up half the room.

Drukpa’s eyes bugged. “Nooo.”

Everybody that could dove for the edges of the room. I scampered back, unwilling to turn my back on Drukpa.

Tyson’s body hit the floor with a boom, shaking the very foundation of the fort. One of his back legs and tail tangled in the same gelatinous spell holding Tenzin in place while his limp body splatted. My mind raced, and worry tried to control my actions.

Three-story magical dragon, three-story fall. Tyson’s fine. His ego will hurt more than his body.

But the same was not true for anyone under him.

I made eye contact with Rehan, who hadn’t needed to dive for cover but continued to secure Drukpa’s minions. He pulled zip ties out of a gunman’s pockets and efficiently secured the man’s hands. Ogden lay flat on his back, jammed partly under the bar with a bottle of whisky in each hand as if he’d kept them from smashing on the floor.

Aww, a man after your own heart. Liquor first. Always.

Lux! I took a single step towards Tyson, searching for my fourth. But I couldn’t see any sign of the already injured air prince. I pressed Lux’s mark on my thigh, reaching out through the bond connecting us, but I still felt nothing. It should be two ways. I didn’t know much about mate marks, but everything I’d read said they were a two-way link. I should be able to feel something.

Not that you’ve tried.

I thought it was a curse.

But it’s not, is it?

My heart fluttered. They could be mine if I fixed this. Maybe.

Yes, Jay, let them in. Feel the power of the dark side.

Dust from cracked plasters and settling debris slowly fell to the floor.

Og picked himself up first, sprinting to Tyson before disappearing behind his dragon body. I counted on him to search for Lux. Tenzin still bled out, stuck in Drukpa’s sticky barrier. Fuck. Part of Tyson’s massive dragon body had to have hit the barrier as well. Now, dead or alive, Drukpa and the ring on his finger, which controlled said barrier, was stuck under Tyson. This was a disaster.

Lux might not be alive.

Don’t focus on ‘mights.’

I trembled. I needed to move. Do something.

Rehan stepped to my side. He’d called me out on my bull shit. He had every right to throw it in my face.

But he didn’t. He held out a hand to help me up. “Are you okay, love?”

My heart cracked. I didn’t deserve him. I didn’t deserve any of them.

“Lux!” Og yelled. “Rehan, help me.”

Rehan locked his gaze with mine.

“It’s just my ego that hurts, go,” I said.

The moment the words left my mouth, Rehan bolted toward Og.

I managed to haul my bruised body and soul to a standing position and turned to face the consequences of my choices.