Dragon King of Treoir Read online

  As a Belador, Quinn had inherited kinetic power and telepathic ability from his powerful ancestors, but he'd been born with an extra gift.

  He had the rare ability to mind lock with any living being--at least as far as he knew--powerful or otherwise. With great power came great responsibility, which to him meant not pushing into a mind uninvited unless lives were on the line.

  Entering the mind of someone from the preternatural world came with its own set of risks.

  Evalle slowed before they reached the area Trey had told Quinn about. She stared straight ahead. Quinn recognized that as her being involved in a telepathic conversation.

  She snapped her head around to him. "I just got word from Trey. A human relative of our people contacted Trey saying she heard strange noises in a neighbor's yard much further down."

  Quinn frowned. "Why didn't Trey call me?"

  "That's the area where I'm supposed to be patrolling in a half hour. He figured I was either there or headed that way. We have more Belador families down there. I'm going to check it out."

  Shit. "Go, but don't engage with anyone. I'll hunt for Devon. Call me if you find anything and wait for me to back you up. Right now, we don't know what we're up against."

  "Got it, Dad." She palmed her dagger from where it hung in a sheath at her hip and took off.

  He kept a steady stride, hanging a right to enter a cozy neighborhood with nicely tended yards.

  So safe looking.

  Where was Devon? Quinn sent out a telepathic call, but Trey would be doing the same. If Trey couldn't reach Devon, no one could.

  Rain battered the hood of his slicker when he walked through a break in the gnarly oaks along this route. Even the winter-bare limbs knocked off some of the relentless downpour.

  A telepathic voice lunged into his mind. Evalle here. Have you found anything?

  No. Why?

  I picked up an unusual energy as I started up this last street. The energy made a weird humming sound, like a really low vibration from a thousand bees flying in formation. I was crouched, hiding between vehicles, when that buzzing sensation rolled over my arms. It's definitely not of the human world. I'm following it the best I can, but I think it's heading your way. Any sign of Devon?

  Not yet. Quinn would love to have the ability to teleport at this moment. He'd zap over to be with Evalle, but since he didn't possess that gift he warned her, If you meet up with Devon, don't link with him. I don't want to risk both of you being taken out with one hit.

  When Beladors linked, if one died they all died.

  Evalle sent back, Understood.

  Quinn called to Trey, Any word from Devon?

  No, and that's insane. I can reach people in another country and he was only a few streets away from my house when I heard from him. I feel like shit for not being out there with you.

  Don't beat yourself up, Trey. I'd have made the same decision in your shoes, plus we need you where you are to coordinate for all of us more than we need you out here.

  I guess, Trey said, not sounding convinced. You have any idea what we're up against?

  Not yet. I've covered the street you indicated for Devon's last location, but I've found nothing. I'm heading to meet Evalle. She's checking out that disturbance in someone's yard and a strange buzzing noise. It might be entirely unrelated, but it's more than we've had all night.

  After a brief pause, Trey added, I just hung up from talking to Lucien by cell phone. He's been through all the crime scenes with Storm and so far they have nothing new to share that's connected besides ...

  A Belador power residue, Quinn supplied, wishing for better news.

  Right, Trey said, continuing. But we have so many Belador warriors on police forces that I don't see it as a smoking gun. I want to hang these killings on the Medb. If it's one of our own ... shit, that would suck.

  Agreed. Quinn raced back up the street he'd just covered, heading for Evalle. He remembered something he'd wanted to tell Trey. Evalle was looking for Adrianna. Find the Sterling witch and Casper. Tell them everything and send them to meet me at the location you gave Evalle.

  Copy that. Here's hoping you don't find another young woman.

  Bile ran up Quinn's throat at the reminder of the seventeen-year-old human victim found dead alongside a warlock at the second crime scene. Evidently she'd come by the neighborhood selling magazines and had ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  She had been someone's daughter.

  Blood soaking a flowery scarf decorated Quinn's dreams now. His skin chilled at the reminder that he had a young daughter of his own. A thirteen-year-old girl he hoped was safe because no one knew where she'd been hidden. Not even him.

  Kizira trusted him to keep their daughter safe.

  He'd met Kizira when he'd been a young man patrolling the hills of Slovakia. Unaware who she was, he'd spent two weeks with her, and on the last day found out he'd fallen in love with a high priestess of the Medb coven.

  The last time he'd seen Kizira, she'd died in his arms after saving him from a gryphon attack during a battle between the Beladors and the Medb. With her final breath, she told him of a child they'd created long ago. She begged him to find their daughter and protect her, but the light in her eyes had dimmed before she could tell him where to look for Phoedra.

  Quinn ... tell Evalle not to ...

  That had been Devon's voice in his head.

  Quinn shouted back, Devon! Where are you? What's going on?

  Not a sound. Son of a bitch. Adrenaline raced through Quinn. His heart played a drum solo on his chest wall. What the hell? He called out telepathically, Evalle, stop wherever you are and wait for me.

  Silence answered him.

  Evalle? Evalle? His mind roared, Eee-valle!

  Not a peep in reply.

  Chapter 4

  Haida Gwaii Islands, British Columbia

  Reese curled into herself, pleading for the end.

  Dying shouldn't take so long.

  The whirlwind noise slowed until Reese could hear each labored breath she fought for. And every time she breathed, the cuts ached more.

  She opened her eyes, peeking to see if she'd landed in the realm ruled by the raven god of the Pacific Northwest Haida tribe. Her mother's people, at one time, before they'd shunned her.

  Reese had grown up hearing about Yaahl, but she'd never known anyone who had met him ... until she'd been desperate for a place to hide. Ten years ago, she'd turned to a Haida wise woman who told her she had only one chance of staying alive. The woman had called upon the raven god.

  That was the first time Reese had traveled through the whirl of space and time to this realm.

  A place no human could find or happen upon.

  Twilight darkness dusted lush grass that stretched across a small clearing to a lake. A waterfall poured into the lake, gently rippling it toward a giant boulder in the middle. No animal sounds. No wind sounds. She looked up into nothing but a hazy mist.

  Yaahl's domain.

  Where was the raven?

  Normally, it was cold at this altitude, especially in winter. She shivered, but that was more about the demon poison than the temperature. Yaahl controlled his environment. The air was only borderline chilly even though his realm was on top of a mountain--one of the Mosquito Mountain peaks on an island off the western coast of Canada.

  No sense of time in this place.

  If she spent the equivalent of a week here and returned to the human world, it might still be Friday night, one second later than she'd left.

  If, if, if. She was dying. Time, life and death depended upon what that giant, winged ego running this place decided.

  Pain lashed through her. Damn, she wished she had the strength to stand up and yell her head off.

  Instead she whispered, "Hate you," on every miserable exhale and closed her eyes.

  Damp, warm air descended, dragging her from sleep.

  When she woke this time, she was in a sitting position. The moisture she
'd felt was a fog that had formed an arch over the space like an ethereal dome. It shed enough light for a soft glow. Now that she could see further, she noted tall evergreens surrounding the meadow.

  She held her broken arm over her chest. She hadn't died, but neither had she healed. The gashes down her side leaked blood and smelled of demon poison. Her cuts were still raw.

  Why had the raven god brought her here?

  And why now?

  Ten long, miserable years she'd waited to hear something.

  Anything.

  If he'd intended to return her powers, he could have done so at any point. Once she'd decided the raven wasn't ever going to return them, she'd made the best of her life.

  That day she'd broken the first rule of survival, which was to form no attachments.

  Two years ago she'd given up all hope and decided to pretend she was human. Two years to grow attached to a dog and the people living around her. Two years she refused to regret.

  She'd known better, but after so much time alone, she'd let her guard down. If she was going to admit her shortcomings, the truth was she'd been lonely, dammit.

  A crow cawed loudly.

  Reese jerked from her wandering thoughts and hissed at the pain.

  That freaking bird sounded like it was laughing.

  The increasing warmth hugged her body, but that wouldn't save her. She had no choice but to sit and wait for the elements to take her if the demon poison didn't finish her first.

  Who had sent the jotnar demons, anyway? She knew little about jotnars beyond the basic stats she'd studied. Appearance, powers, skills, vulnerabilities. But demons generally answered to someone. What were they doing in California?

  And why hadn't they turned into dust?

  They were Scandinavian demons that lived to torture and kill humans when they weren't draining some preternatural being's essence. But the fact that they'd shown up so far from their territory and in her neighborhood--that was a little too coincidental for her liking.

  They'd clawed her. But if she was sitting here, holding her arm, she was no longer paralyzed. Why not? She still didn't have her powers or she'd be healing herself. Had Yaahl put her body in some holding pattern so he could berate her as she died?

  That would be like him, to stretch out the pain of her last hour.

  Above her, the dome began to brighten.

  Air swirled and warmed even more.

  A large shadow crossed overhead, swooping back and forth, a massive crow the size of a human. It glided down to the giant rock in the center of the lake, which changed from a plain old rough-cut boulder to a pearl-white platform that glowed.

  Energy swept through the secluded area, leaving a six-and-a-half-foot man dressed in a black tunic and pants. His sharp cheeks, teak-colored skin, blunt nose, and straight, black hair apparently hadn't changed in thousands of years. He still had the small, dark eyes of the indigenous Haida tribes who had once ruled this land.

  His stern mouth might as well be carved of stone.

  Reese had yet to see him smile. "Hey, Yaahl."

  Every time she said his name, she felt like a Paula Deen wannabe shouting, "Hey, y'all!"

  His voice carried the distance between them with little effort. "Welcome, xahlk'uts'. How have you been?"

  Reese huffed at his ridiculous attempt to be sociable. "I am not a porcupine and I'm pretty sure you know I'm dying, or I was when you sent your minions to get me."

  Angling his head to the side, he mimicked human movements and stared as if concentrating. "No, I believe that name suits you well. I have never met another whose hackles rise so quickly as yours over trifling issues."

  Did that mean he hadn't screwed up someone else's life the way he had hers, to the point of survival being a trifling issue? Let him say whatever he wanted and be done with it.

  She didn't care anymore.

  It'd be nice, though, if he'd get to the point.

  Reese crossed her arms. Actually, she wrapped her good arm over her bad one, careful not to jar it, and gritted her teeth against the sharp pain of jostling her broken bone. No point in worrying about social manners, not now when she'd lost everything. Now would be the time to say what she wanted.

  Cocking her chin up at him, she said, "Not a word from you for over a decade and now you want to talk?"

  "A decade is not such a great amount of time when you have lived as long as I have."

  Yeah, just you and Methuselah. "Sorry if I sound cranky, but you may want to move this along before I expire." Licking lips covered with the metallic taste of her own blood, she managed to squeeze out some sarcasm. "To what do I owe this unexpected honor?"

  "Is your life so busy you do not have time for me? If so, please go. Do not stay on my account." He waved his hand in dismissal.

  "Sure. I'll just jog down the mountain with a broken arm and blood pouring from my wounds. Not to mention demon poison flooding my body." She panted, wondering what was taking her body so long to quit.

  She'd waited a bazillion hours to hear from Yaahl. Maybe popping off would piss him off enough to take her out of her misery.

  "What gives, Yaahl? You get a new pair of boots and needed someone to kick? Is that why you finally remembered I was still around?"

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, and asked, "Don't you want your powers returned?"

  Reese froze. She'd begged and pleaded the last time they'd faced each other.

  Yaahl had refused her pleas.

  Furious beyond any sanity, Reese had spewed a string of curses at him and swore she'd never beg for anything again.

  Not from him.

  Funny how years of living without what she most wanted and facing her own mortality could make her eat those words.

  Yeah, she'd crawl through crushed glass naked and with her arm broken if that was what it took to feel whole again. Then she'd be able to heal herself and protect the energy inside her from demons.

  She'd come close to being a power supper for two jotnar demons tonight, and it had been terrifying. They weren't the only ones who wanted what she had.

  Trying to sound calm, Reese said, "Of course I want my powers." She waited, her heart jumping in anticipation.

  She watched for a sign, something to let her know he was going to make good on the offer.

  He said nothing.

  She should have known it wouldn't be easy with him. A ripple of suspicion raced along her neck. Don't be a bitch. Don't be a bitch. Don't be a ... "Out of curiosity, why are you giving them back to me now?"

  "I have not said I will return your powers."

  He crushed her hope without even blinking. The fragile hold Reese had on her temper snapped. "What? You just ... argh! You called me here just to screw with me?"

  "I summoned you to discuss a task I want you to perform."

  Had existing since before the dinosaurs finally fried his brain?

  She gritted her teeth and asked, "Really? What can I possibly do for you, oh mighty spirit?"

  "That mouth will be the death of you."

  "With any luck I'll bite it before I have to hear all my flaws marched out again."

  As if he hadn't noticed her bleeding out, he said, "I want you to bring me someone."

  Her half-baked mind woke up.

  He wanted something? For real?

  Then he had to be willing to barter, right? "What about my powers?"

  "That's not what we are discussing at the moment."

  Reese fisted her good hand and swallowed the bile climbing her throat. She struggled to keep her temper beaten into submission, because no one won an argument with the raven.

  On the other hand, this might be her last chance to speak freely. "Why should I do anything for you?"

  He asked, "Have you forgotten that you owe me a favor? I gave you sanctuary when you came to me asking for aid."

  Reese didn't even try to smother a bitter chuckle that ended in a cough. But the sharp pain in her chest came from a broken heart. "Yeah, well, so m
uch for being given sanctuary. You let my baby die."

  "I offered you protection, and that's what you and your child received." He spoke in that know-it-all tone that had driven her crazy when she'd been under said protection. He continued, "Those who wished to harm you were unable to find you. I do not interfere with the normal laws of life and death."

  That did nothing to soothe the ache in her chest that never went away. The pain of holding her baby who'd never taken his first breath. People said time would soften the loss.

  Not true.

  Now was not the moment to indulge in grief. It wouldn't bring her child or her powers back. Ten years was a long time to dodge preternaturals and hide in the human realm.

  She'd fought well but lost that game in the mountains outside of San Diego tonight.

  But she refused to be brought all the way here and forced to listen timidly to Yaahl. "Let me get this straight. It's clearly okay for me to interfere in someone else's life on your behalf, but not the other way around. That baby was all I had. He didn't deserve to die. You have a lot of freaking power. You chose not to intervene. You could have ... given him to someone else, as long as he lived. He shouldn't have been cursed because I was his mother."

  "Stop wallowing in guilt. And stop blaming the world for your troubles. The death of that child was not on your shoulders."

  Reese's laugh grew meaner by the second. "Yes, it was. I blame you for not saving an innocent child, but the lion's share of fault was mine. I was told that no baby could survive in my womb. I shouldn't have dismissed it. I should have been more careful about getting pregnant."

  "You were only nineteen and raised in a tribe that shied away from the modern world. You were naive."

  His gentle words threatened to crack her armor.

  Reese stared off into the distance, trying her best to not relive that time in college, when she'd fallen for a man five years older who had used her. If she were entirely honest, she'd admit that the silly young woman she'd been had thought she could defy the curse on her family.

  Live and learn.

  No attachments. No family. No babies.

  Forcing the grief back into that dark space where her heart had once thrived, she said, "You're the Haida raven. When you met me, you had to have known what would happen. You knew my family had been cursed when my mother was raped by ... that thing. Everyone in our tribe knew. When I came to you heavy with my son, you should have told me then that he would not survive, not even in your sanctuary."