Chapter 4

FOUR

“What do you all think you’re doing?”

Faris’s voice was eerily quiet as he strode further into the room to stand only a handful of paces from Talia, every bit of his terrifying focus bent on the scene before him—shattered glasses, overturned chairs, missing patrons, and the strange swirl of water that now surrounded me.

Kira was hovering by the kitchen door, looking worried, while Seamus stood beside her, seemingly frozen in place. Talia still looked ready to drive a knife through my heart, even as her hand opened and the tall man she’d been dragging behind her crashed to the floor.

And Callum? He was staring right at me, like a raptor that had just sighted prey.

Damage control. I had to figure out how to explain this, and fast, but first I shot another glance at my boss to get some idea of exactly how furious he was.

Answer? Very. Faris’s mouth was set in a flat, angry line, and his green eyes flashed as he surveyed the damages.

“Would anyone care to claim responsibility for this mess?”

Not really, no. Even if it had been partially my fault, my body and brain seemed frozen with indecision, caught between caution and exhilaration.

Whatever I had just done… It was as natural as breathing. And maybe as necessary. It was as if I’d suddenly opened a door to a part of myself that was dark and closed off, and a prisoner had stumbled into the light—a mysterious creature of life and color and joy.

But that joy began to dissolve as the glowing blue eyes of the terrifying water elemental found mine and glared in utter loathing.

“How dare you use my own power against me?” Her voice resonated with anger and offense. “You are a mere child! An arrogant renegade with no manners or respect. I would destroy you where you stand were you not hiding within the protection of the Shadow Court like a mewling coward.”

Talia took a step towards me, and the swirl of water collapsed. The icy liquid splashed to the floor at my feet, soaking my shoes and my clothes, and drawing a gasp as the chill went straight to the bone.

So much for keeping my bandage dry.

My teeth began to chatter, but my brain kept insisting that the woman was being ridiculous and overdramatic. Mewling ?

“I suppose that answers that.” Faris sounded suddenly more weary than angry, but he stepped between me and the elemental queen as if to shield me from her fury. “Talia, I suggest you stop abusing your power in my place of business. Raine bested you, and you’re just going to have to live with it. And perhaps once you recognize the true danger in which you stand, you’ll thank her for saving you from a deadly mistake.”

Those eyes flashed again, just before the dark shadows behind her surged forward, and Draven’s blade came to rest along the side of her throat. The elemental queen froze as the razor edge kissed her skin, and winced as lightning crackled threateningly within a hairsbreadth of her face.

“Do you want to fight or do you want to talk?” Faris asked coolly. “Because I have no problem with whichever choice you decide to make.”

“Fine,” Talia spat at last. “Call off your attack dogs, Shadow Lord , and we’ll talk. I might loathe your existence, your power, and this path you’ve chosen for yourself, but I require answers and you are the only one who can provide them.”

“Answers?” Faris growled, an undertone of rage rumbling beneath the surface of his chillingly calm facade. “You’ll be lucky if I let you leave with your life .”

Somehow, he’d gotten even bigger, and… was he actually made of earth ? I’d never seen an earth elemental in a full fury before, but his jaw now appeared to be made of literal stone, his fists of golden clay. “You destroyed my property, disrupted my business, and terrified my customers, not to mention violated neutral territory. Why should I give you anything besides a lifetime ban and an order to evict on sight?”

The towering woman let out a long breath, slapped aside Draven’s dagger, and closed the distance between herself and Faris, looking down at him with an expression that pierced my heart.

Because I recognized it. The elemental was desperate.

“Because I’m afraid,” she said simply. “Faris, if confronting you as a fellow sovereign is not enough, then I will come to you as a mother desperate for answers. My own daughter is still among the missing, and I. Am. Afraid .”

Faris let out a low growl of disgust before throwing up his hands and shrinking back into his ordinary form. “Then why didn’t you just start with that instead of trying to strangle my employee and destroying my bar? Did your father convince you that I’m an unreasonable jackass with no heart?” He paused. “Don’t answer that.”

A tiny smile creased the water elemental’s face.

“All right,” Faris grumbled. “We can talk. I won’t promise you’ll like the answers, but we’ll talk, as long as you swear to leave my city afterwards. Tonight. And don’t come back until the date on your invitation. Also, you’re paying for the damages to my club.”

She nodded regally. “Very well. And in return,”—she shot me a poisonous look—“ you will swear to teach your elemental pet some manners.”

His what ?

Faris’s face didn’t quite turn to granite again, but it was close. “Talia, I’ve demonstrated remarkable restraint under the circumstances, but it only goes so far.” His eyes grew wintery cold and his jaw clenched so hard that the tendons in his neck went rigid. “This woman is no one’s pet, and she has done nothing to earn my disapproval. She’s proven only that she’s capable of kicking your ass, which is not an actual crime, so I suggest you not act as if you can tell me what to do in my own court.”

Oh my hecking heck.

How I managed not to smirk after that speech, I will never know.

I could tell Talia didn’t like it. Her face turned to ice—I could literally see the lacy patterns of frost spread across her cheeks—but she finally deigned to tilt her head. “My apologies,” she said, in a glacial tone that conveyed no actual remorse.

I suddenly wondered whether etiquette demanded that I apologize as well, considering that it appeared I’d actually taken her own elemental magic away from her.

Possibly.

But was I going to? Nope.

I was going to shut up, and I was going to do so with every fiber of my being, because right now, what I needed most was for everyone to forget exactly what I’d done.

Namely, that I’d lost control. Somehow, after holding it back for so long, another piece of my magic had broken free, and part of me felt like a cramped muscle had finally relaxed. It had seemed so beautiful and natural. So effortless.

When in reality, there was nothing beautiful or natural about it.

In an effort to forget—and possibly to reinforce my own denial—I turned to restoring order, picking up a toppled chair and setting it upright while doggedly ignoring the tension around me.

And to my relief, it actually seemed to work. The scene that ensued suggested—much to my dismay—that this level of disruption and destruction was not an uncommon occurrence at The Portal. Three people with brooms and mops and a sleepy-looking air elemental named Alicia appeared as if by literal magic, descended on the room, and, with Talia’s help, soon had the club almost entirely back to normal.

While the last of the sweeping and mopping was wrapping up, Faris, Talia, and Callum gathered on one side of the dance floor for a tense conversation. Were they talking about those answers Talia wanted? The Symposium? Or were they talking about me? Surely my little breach of decorum would be soon forgotten amid the many vastly important things three court leaders would have to talk about.

Things like… Well, I had no idea. I was still just trying to breathe normally as I shut my eyes and contemplated the bizarre facts of my current situation.

Three courts. In the same room. The elemental queen already hated me, the shifter king was still occasionally favoring me with intense, speculative looks, and Faris seemed moderately resigned to my existence. How had I somehow managed to accomplish so very literally the exact opposite of what I’d intended?

When my eyes opened again, Faris was staring at me over his shoulder, as if he’d somehow been listening in on my thoughts.

“Sit down before you fall over,” he suggested. “We’ll discuss your part in this in a moment.”

I wasn’t in any danger of collapsing, but it seemed wise to obey, so I took a seat at the bar and rested my elbows on its polished walnut surface. For some reason, Draven and Kira lingered on one side of my barstool, while behind the bar, Seamus gave me an encouraging smile and slid a glass full of something golden and sparkly in my direction.

“Rough first day?” A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Nope,” I lied cheerfully. “Just about average.” Was it really lying when everyone knew it was sarcasm? And honestly, in terms of bad days, it wasn’t even in my top ten.

I picked up the glass and stared at it for a moment. “What is this?”

“Ginger ale,” he assured me. “I stock it for Kira, since she doesn’t care for any of my stronger stuff. You just looked like you could use a blood sugar boost.”

Fair enough. I still sniffed the glass, but sensed nothing out of the ordinary.

“I respect your caution,” Seamus said, all trace of humor gone from his tone, “but you should know that I take my responsibilities seriously. I would never serve anything mood or mind-altering to anyone unless they knew exactly what they were getting. Not even an enemy.”

Strangely enough, I believed him, so I took a sip and let the slightly spicy bubbles slip down my throat. “So… Do you think I’m in trouble?”

The shapeshifter shrugged. “Faris will have questions, but he isn’t going to hand you over to the elementals just because you’re powerful. He treats everyone equally unless you mess with his customers.”

Which I had kind of done. And I didn’t have very much time to come up with a story that would explain exactly how or why—a story that would cling to the fringes of the truth while also concealing it.

“I didn’t actually mean to do it,” I admitted, with a shrug and a wry twist to my lips. “It just sort of… happened.”

“You’re a bit old to be losing control of your magic.” Seamus sounded skeptical. Maybe even judgey. “Especially when you’re that powerful. If you don’t practice, this kind of thing tends to become a problem.”

“I… didn’t know I needed to practice?” I told him, honestly enough. “I was raised as a human, and my parents never taught me anything about my magic.”

All true. Also very misleading.

One of Draven’s eyebrows quirked, as if he wasn’t quite buying it. “You can’t expect us to believe this is the first time you’ve done this. Have you never lost control before?”

“Nope.” Again, technically true. You couldn’t lose control if you simply refused to use magic at all. “I’ve played around a little, but the humans don’t really like it if you show off.”

The censure disappeared from Seamus’ expression. If anything, he was looking almost sympathetic. “Then I guess it makes sense. You had no one to tell you what to expect.”

Well that didn’t sound sinister at all. “What should I have expected?”

“It might be that you’re only half elemental,” he said thoughtfully. “Normally I would say that means your power is weaker, but for some—like Draven here—you get a full dose of magic from each parent. Since no one ever taught you how to use that power, you probably buried it deep. And when magic is suppressed, it ends up being triggered by strong emotions, like fear or panic. Tends to break free in pretty destructive and dangerous ways.”

I happened to glance over at Kira, and the look of compassion on her face was almost more than I could bear.

None of this was my fault. I knew that. But if only she knew the truth—if only any of them knew—they would be feeling anything but compassion.

It was pure frustration that prompted my next question. “So, did I do something wrong?”

The others exchanged glances.

“Not necessarily,” Kira hedged, as she accepted her own glass of ginger ale from Seamus. “If you were in the elemental court, it would be a pretty serious offense to attack the queen and publicly demonstrate that you’re stronger than her—and with her own element, too. But we’re separate from the other courts, so you’ve probably just painted a target on your back.”

Whoa. “What does that mean?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

“If anyone hears about it, they might try to test you. Find out whether you’re as strong as the rumors claim. The good news is,”—Kira placed a friendly hand on my arm and leaned in to speak more quietly—“Talia isn’t going to be eager to talk about this, and none of us are gossips, so you’ll probably be safe.”

I didn’t like the sound of probably . But what choice did I have?

I’d tried so hard to keep my magic hidden. But now that I’d officially failed—now that others knew a bit of what I could do—did I even have the same choices? What if someone attacked me in an attempt to prove something? What if they threatened the kids?

Worse, what if Seamus was right, and I was actually a danger to those around me?

But who could I ask? There was no one I could trust with the truth. No one who might understand the struggle that raged within me on a daily basis. No one who wouldn’t hate me first and never bother to ask questions.

“I hope you’re right,” I murmured quietly. “And I’m truly sorry if I caused any problems.”

“It’s never a good idea to deny your magic.” Kira’s tone suggested that perhaps she knew this from personal experience. “But no one is mad at you. Not even Callum, though he probably looks that way. He’s always just a little bit irritated when he’s stuck in the city.”

My unspoken question must have shown on my face.

“It’s a dragon thing,” she explained with a shrug. “Talia was right—most of the time, it’s too dangerous for him to shift while we’re here. He can’t go full dragon indoors without breaking everything, and we’re too close to a major airport for him to fly freely.” She leaned in and grinned conspiratorially. “Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was our mother’s last line of defense. He trains hard in both forms and can be plenty dangerous without any need for his dragon. But he really hates that he can’t just roar at people when they irritate him.”

Draven actually laughed at that, but it was quick and rueful. As if he had personal experience with that particular aspect of Callum’s character.

“Plus this Symposium…” Kira shook her head and her expression took on a hint of worry. “It’s got him more on edge than usual. Hosting so many delegates is going to be a nightmare, between keeping them safe, keeping them away from each other’s throats, and keeping them on task. They would only agree to four days, so we don’t have long to arrive at a solution.”

I couldn’t help but voice my curiosity. “Why are the shapeshifters in charge of this gathering?”

“Because it was Callum who called for it,” Kira confided. “Basically, he kept nagging everyone else until they agreed. And he’s very strict about rules, so he’s a great person for the job, but he’s also a black dragon, so it’s really messing with his protective instincts.”

Black dragon… protective instincts… So many things I should already know, but I’d probably revealed enough of my own ignorance for the day.

However, one more question was still nagging me.

“A solution to what? What is it that everyone needs to agree on?” What kind of problem could possibly bring all the courts together in one place like this, when they clearly struggled to get along?

Something about my question seemed to stuff a metaphorical sock in the conversation, because all three of them looked like they’d forgotten an important appointment. Seamus started wiping at a nonexistent spot on the bar, Draven pulled out one of his daggers and began inspecting the blade, while Kira brushed aside my query with an airy wave of her hand.

“Oh, there are always issues to discuss. Personally, I think we’ve needed something like this for a long time.” Her cheery voice grew more fake and desperate by the second. “They used to have these in Idria, but now it’s ridiculous how no one talks to each other and everyone acts as if the other courts are a threat instead of a potential ally. I know I was raised more like a human than an Idrian, so there’s a lot I don’t understand, but it seems like being refugees would have brought everyone closer together rather than split them further apart, wouldn’t you agree?”

I let my skeptical stare linger just long enough for her to realize I’d noticed her evasion before raising my glass of ginger ale in agreement.

“Hear, hear,” I muttered, then took a large gulp to conceal my frustration.

Clearly there was something sketchy going on here, but just as clearly, story time was over and no one was willing to tell the freakishly overpowered water elemental anything they hadn’t already let slip.

Including how the literal dragon princess had ended up being raised like a human. That seemed worth filing away for later, even if now was obviously not the right time to ask.

One thing I did know? The human authorities were right to be nervous. If tonight’s events were any indication of things to come, there were about to be a lot of egos, a lot of different powers, and a lot of competing agendas all in one place. All of them under the supervision of a cranky dragon shifter who was perfectly willing to roar first and ask questions later.

Given the display we’d seen this evening? We’d be lucky if Oklahoma City didn’t end up a smoking pile of rubble before this Symposium was over.