Blood Secret (27 page)
Then it was done.
The blackguard who looked like Allan had transformed, too. He was an enormous black dragon, as dark as coal, as shiny as smooth jet. He clamped his teeth into James’s neck and gave a powerful flap of his wings, lifting from the ground.
No
. She leapt off the ground and took flight. Lucy threw all her strength into the beat of her wings. She managed to fly over his head, then blew a stream of fire across his back. She had to take care not to hit James. Since the horrible night she had fought for her life against Allan, she had never battled in dragon form.
. She leapt off the ground and took flight. Lucy threw all her strength into the beat of her wings. She managed to fly over his head, then blew a stream of fire across his back. She had to take care not to hit James. Since the horrible night she had fought for her life against Allan, she had never battled in dragon form.
James beat his wings wildly and struggled, but he could not break free of the grip of the other dragon’s jaws.
Lucy breathed another blast of flame, singing the scales on the other dragon’s back. Smoke curled up. Suddenly, the dragon whirled and his mouth sent a shot of flame at her.
Thank heaven she had flown that night in the moors. She was able to move agilely, to spin swiftly aside and let the fiery blast go by her. But the heat singed her, and she cried out in pain as it scorched her scales. Flapping her wings, she somersaulted in the air, drawing away from the dragon. She spun back quickly, and she breathed fire again—she put all her strength into the attack. She shot flames at him, then whirled around and slammed her tail into his back.
The male dragon whipped his tail around, and the end of it struck her stomach with so much force, the sharp scales dug into her skin. She let out a roar at the pain. Blood welled.
James was making desperate sounds—a dragon’s equivalent to cries of fear. She tried to make sounds to reassure him, the quiet, musical sounds she had heard her mother make. But they were unfamiliar to James and he was shrieking.
She pressed her clawed hand to her wound. Damn—the other dragon would go and she was too wounded to catch him—
No, he was turned back to her. With James caught in his mouth, with his claws extended, he rushed toward her. He wheeled his feet up so the long, razor-sharp claws on his toes were sticking forward. He could rip her apart.
But if she retreated, he could escape with James. She had to engage in a fight. Breathing flame as quickly as she could, Lucy turned to protect her belly and she charged at him. She stopped the fire when she got too close and she tried to aim her claws to take James without hurting him.
The other dragon swooped at her. His claws dug into her back. Pure pain. God, it was unbelievable. She was screaming, roaring ... falling... .
As she spun toward the ground, she saw the black dragon prepare to come at her. To finish her. Desperately, she fought for control, but she still fell heavily into the garden, sinking into the rich earth.
Her body hurt too much for her to take flight again, and she heard the low, hissing sound of victory coming from the black dragon—
“Lucy!”
Sinjin’s voice. The sharp tones of it stunned her. She arched her neck to see him racing across the garden. A long sword in his hand glinted in the sunlight. Gripping it with two hands, he leapt into the air and swung the blade so quickly, it became a blur of light.
Light.
Daylight
. What was he doing? He could not be out in the daytime.
Daylight
. What was he doing? He could not be out in the daytime.
The blade caught the black dragon’s leg. The dragon shrieked in fury and blood sprayed.
“Give me the boy,” Sinjin shouted. “I will let you live if you give me the child.”
The dragon hissed, then took James from his muzzle, and clutched the boy in his claws. He shot fire at Sinjin. A blast of flame larger than any she had ever seen. Cursing, Sinjin leapt to the side, rolling out of the way.
Lucy clutched her stomach. Blood leaked between her scaly fingers. Then she saw Sinjin’s face as he got to his feet. He was swaying. His face was turning black—it was burning with the rays of the sun. Smoke rose from his cheeks. His skin was angry slashes of glowing red and burnt black.
The sunlight was going to kill him.
The black dragon swooped down to him, wearing a grin on his long mouth. Sinjin lay on the ground, struggling to grasp his sword. Lucy tried to fly, but the pain in her stomach was too great.
Howling with victory, the black dragon dropped James—she managed to pull her body across the ground so she could catch him. The dragon flew at Sinjin. It dove in. Then Sinjin leapt to his feet and swung his sword. It should have taken off the beast’s head, but the dragon slid to the right and the sword took off its foot.
It spun, losing blood, then rushed at her. She tried to hold on to James’s small dragon form, but the bigger dragon hit her with his tail, driving her down, then grabbed James. It flew upward.
“Lucy! Lucy, are you all right?”
Arms came around her. She tried to struggle up. She couldn’t speak, only make a low moaning sound. Sinjin’s face—it was so horribly burned ... but he lifted his wrist to his mouth. She waved her clawed paw at him, trying to send him inside. They had to get James, but Sinjin was going to die.
His fangs came out, and he drove them into his wrist. Blood leaked out. He pushed his wrist against her mouth. She tasted the coppery fluid. Panicked, sick from the thought of drinking blood, she tried to struggle away, but she was cold now and her body was numb.
“Drink, Lucy. Please. Drink and survive.”
She did. With her tongue, she lapped up his blood. Then he moved his wrist away. Warmth flooded through her. The pain eased in her stomach, and a tingling sensation spread through. Through her dragon eyes she gazed down. The wound was knitting itself together, slowly disappearing.
She was healed.
She knew what she must do.
Beating her wings hard, she rose off the ground.
“Lucy, no! Lucy, don’t—”
She ignored Sinjin’s shout and she flew out of the garden, into the brilliant sky. Far ahead of her, she saw a dark spot in the air. It must be the black dragon and James. She didn’t care how strong this dragon was, she was going to rescue the boy. Sinjin was probably dying, he had been so badly hurt, but if she let herself think about that, she would panic or burst into tears.
James needed her to keep her head.
The other dragon—the one who looked like Allan Ferrars—had bigger wings, but she flapped hers wildly. Her dragon body ached with the pain of trying to beat her wings as hard and quickly as she could. Her lungs burned with the exertion. Even in dragon form, she was showing what happened to ladies—with their restrained living, their bodies fell apart. She had tried for so long to act like a proper normal lady, she had lost all her strength.
The black dragon turned in the sky, heading toward the lush green of Hyde Park. Lucy followed, amazed to see she was closing the distance. At least, she thought she was. She rose above the park. They soared so high, they looked perhaps like birds to the people below. Below the Serpentine snaked through the park, the rippling water glittering in the sunlight.
Suddenly a searing pain shot through her wing. Twisting to the side, she saw a thin dark shape hurtling through the air as she felt the delicate membranes tear apart. Her wing pulled inward as she reacted to the pain. She lost her balance in the air. Spinning.
An arrow had been shot through her wing. Crippled, she couldn’t control her fall. But then a force grabbed her—something unseen that slowed her plunge and brought her down slowly toward the trees that dotted the park. She landed with a thump on soft grass between two trees. The shock made her lose control of her shifted body. Pain rushed over her as her body twisted and writhed and she transformed back into human form.
She was naked. In Hyde Park. In the distance, she heard shouting voices. People had seen her fall. They might come to investigate, and she had no clothes on. Nor could she change back into dragon form. Her wing would not have healed. So she was going to lose James as well.
Tears of fury pricked. She got to her feet, too sore and pained to move quickly. Footsteps made her turn in panic. A gentleman was running toward her—an elegantly dressed one. Remarkably, his beaver hat stayed on his head as his long legs swallowed up the ground. She tried to cover her breasts and privates, then turned and ran for a tree. Why did there have to be one man who could run so fast?
The footsteps behind her sped up.
She was running like wild, naked. Where could she go? She couldn’t run out of the park.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see he almost was upon her. Suddenly he reached out and grabbed a hank of her hair. He yanked her back, winding its thickness around his wrist. “Now I have you, my dear. Finally.”
Lucy twisted, staring into bright silver eyes. They were almost blinding.
“Who are you?”
A white-blond brow arched up. “I suspect you know, my dear. Do not worry, Lady Lucy Drake, your dragon slayer will come for you.” His hand cupped her neck, then slid down, nearing her breast. “I know he will. I have known Sinjin for a long time.”
“No!” She shoved his hand away. She tried to pull away, but he had her clamped by her hair. She knew who he was—Sinjin’s prince, the leader of the dragon slayers.
He was going to kill her.
“Not yet,” he said, as though he had seen her thoughts. “I have no intention of killing you now. Not when I know Sinjin will come to save you. But he will fail—he won’t free you and he won’t survive. It will please me first to take something he wants so very badly.”
“What?”
“You.”
21
Poisoned
I
n the prince’s grasp, Lucy tried to change shape. She closed her eyes and willed her body to shift into a dragon form. Even with a broken wing, she could fight better as a dragon, with far more weapons: claws, fire, and a powerful tail—
n the prince’s grasp, Lucy tried to change shape. She closed her eyes and willed her body to shift into a dragon form. Even with a broken wing, she could fight better as a dragon, with far more weapons: claws, fire, and a powerful tail—
“No, you don’t, my dear.”
The prince’s right hand suddenly clamped around her neck. She felt pressure, as if he was choking her and as she struggled for breath, something cold and hard gripped her neck. It made a soft click, and then he moved his hand away. He kept her hair twined around his other wrist, using it like a leash to bind her to him. She sucked in a deep breath and looked down. But all she could see were her naked breasts and her stomach. She could not see the thing around her neck, but she could feel it digging into her flesh. Grasping it, she tried to pull it off. It suddenly grew as hot as fire and sizzled against her hands, burning her fingertips, and she had to release it, hissing in pain. She had felt something that was flat and shaped like a large, wide ring.
“A collar,” the prince informed her, in cold, hard tones. “It will prevent you from shifting shape and escaping me. This will make you more obedient.”
With his hand in her hair, he wrenched her head to the side. Her neck muscles pulled in protest and the hot necklace at her neck gouged into her skin. She tried again to shift shape but she couldn’t. With no other way to fight, she kicked at him. Wildly, she slammed her feet against him. But he wore a gentleman’s boots, and all she got were sore, bruised toes.
“Feisty,” he murmured, jerking her head even more to the side, until she feared he would break her neck. “A fiery dragon. I can see why Sinjin was willing to give up so much for you.”
He touched his mouth to her neck.
“Oh no, you will not!” Lucy cried. She struggled, willing to lose her hair to his hands if she could get free. But her stupid hair would not give. She kicked. She screamed. What did it matter if all the
ton
came running across Hyde Park and saw her naked? She would be saved—
ton
came running across Hyde Park and saw her naked? She would be saved—
“Shut up,” the prince barked. Then he lunged forward and bit her neck. The pricks of his teeth were like two fierce burns. God, it was nothing like when Sinjin bit her. This hurt. And she could feel her blood rushing to his mouth.
Dear God.
Dimly, she wondered how he could be out in the sunlight. How was this vampire not burned, as Sinjin had been?
Sinjin.
Was he alive or had he died of the wounds to his face?
Sinjin.
Was he alive or had he died of the wounds to his face?
Her blood was rushing out of her. Suddenly, her legs gave out and she sagged into the blackguard’s arms. He was going to kill her. He was going to take all her blood and she was going to die here, with grass whispering around her and the sun beating down on her—
“Enough,” he growled. “That will be enough to keep your feisty nature subdued.”
The prince, the hateful, evil monster, swept her into his arms. Then suddenly he changed shape. He grew wings and his body turned black, like a large bat. A whirling light whipped around them. A sparkling white light.
“No one will see us. But do not fret. Sinjin will know where you are. He will sense you, he will track you, he will come to you.”
Would he? Her heart felt ready to explode in despair. Or was he already dead?
He strode into Guidon’s bookstore. He had not even bothered to let Guidon open the door, he had shoved it so hard, he almost tore it off its hinges.
“I need to find her,” he barked. “I need to find Lucy. Guidon,” he shouted, “where in blazes would the prince have taken her?”
The troll-like librarian came out from between two stacks of books. His thin yellowish-gray hair stuck straight up from his head, as though he had run his fingers through it. The vampire librarian was tiny, with a curved spine, but knew everything there was to know about vampires, dragons, and other shifters in London.
“He has taken Lucy,” Sinjin roared. He slammed his fist into the end of a wooden shelf. “Where would he take her?”
“If she is not at his official London residence, then he might have taken her to a house he rents on Curzon Street. That is the only other home I know of that he would use.”
“Curzon Street. Thank you.” He turned.
“Wait one moment, my lord,” Guidon called. “I have discovered there is another being who also wants her. Another dragon. His name is Lionel Ferrars.”
Ferrars? That was the surname of her fiancé.
“Tell me about him,” Sinjin said coolly. “Make it swift. I have to get to her.”
Of course she was still naked when she woke. Nude, chained to a bed, and covered only by a scrap of pink satin sheet. Once she would have died of embarrassment and shame. Now, she was just determined to escape.
Lucy strained her arms as hard as she could, but she only pulled her muscles, made the chains rattle, and gained absolutely nothing toward freedom. The collar was hot and itchy at her neck. If only she could get rid of it, she could shift shape and break the chains in seconds. She shook her head, then her shoulders, but that didn’t dislodge the controlling band around her neck. She tried rubbing and banging it against the bed, hoping to break open its clasp.
Again, it didn’t work.
From the bed, she could see both the window and the door. She was in a bedchamber, one with ivory walls. The window was shut, but the black curtains were open. A golden-red hue glowed against the pane. The sun was setting. Was Sinjin still alive? Was he aware the sun was going down and it would soon be night, when it was safe for him to come out? Or was he gone—lost to her forever?
What of James? Was he hurt? Had that monster of a dragon hurt him? Who was the dragon-shifter who had taken him—the man who had looked like Allan but who couldn’t possibly be Allan?
Bound to the bed, Lucy knew she should plan a way to escape, but her mind continually fell back into the same pattern. Her stomach roiled in agony as she worried if Sinjin was dead. She worried about James. She kept trying to figure out who the black dragon was. Could it be someone
related
to Allan Ferrars? A brother? A cousin?
related
to Allan Ferrars? A brother? A cousin?
As time ticked by, she kept forcing her memory to dredge up the face of the man who looked so much like Allan. Were his eyes really exactly the same? The same color? Was the shape of his face an exact match? Or was his jaw heavier, his skin rougher, his nose crooked?
Then she thought of the horrible wounds on Sinjin’s face, and her heart thudded and thundered. She couldn’t even remember how he had been wounded, only that his face had been a striated mess of black burnt areas and red, oozing welts. It made her sick to think of it. It must have been so painful.
The door rattled. She watched the knob turn, the door swing open. She saw the white-blond hair of the prince, then his elegantly dressed body as he came into the room.
Hatred. Fear. Revulsion. Fury at being powerless. Emotions exploded in her, lending her strength, stoking desperation. She tugged as hard as she could on the chains, praying she could pull them free. That she could win.
He crossed his arms over his chest, watching, and an amused smile played on his cold, ruthlessly perfect face. “Stop,” he said, and his voice seemed to echo inside her head. “I have come to unlock you. There is no need to thrash as though you are having a fit. You are to be taken downstairs, where you will wait for your hero to arrive.” His lips split in a leering grin.
“I need clothing.” Really, given what he intended to do to Sinjin, if Sinjin had survived, it hardly mattered.
But he threw something upon the bed. A slither of dark purple silk. “A robe for you. Now I will unlock you, but I warn you not to try to overpower me. Or try to escape.”
Of course she nodded, to show she would behave. As soon as he unlocked both her wrists, she struck at him. She tried to throw all her strength behind the blow. But he caught her fist before it connected with his face.
“Naughty girl. You will be punished later, dragon. After you have done your job and brought Sinjin’s heart to me.”
But Sinjin might not even be alive. Yet she did not say anything to the prince.
Minutes later, bundled in the silk robe, she was being propelled downstairs. Even after just a few hours of being chained, her feet were tingling and half-numb and her legs did not want to move. The prince gripped her arm, forcing her down one step after another. He directed her down a large corridor, one with niches filled with statues, and an ornate ceiling. The painted frescoes showed men battling dragons, and the statues were all of dragon slayers wielding swords.
“Why do you want to kill all of us?”
The demon stopped, apparently astounded by her question. In fact, she had never intended to ask it out loud. It had been a desperate thought in her head and had just slipped out.
He jerked her around to face him. A sneering smile played on his lips. His expression—it looked like the one Jack had worn when he confronted Sinjin in Dartmoor.
The prince lifted his hand. She flinched, expecting a slap. What he did proved far worse. He caressed her cheek, traced her lips with his fingers. Cold fingers—cold, lifeless, unfeeling. His touch made her shudder, made her stomach lurch in revulsion. His eerie eyes glittered like black marble.
But her reaction only widened his smile. “Dragons kill mortals, my dear. It is imperative for humans that they are the strongest creatures on earth. So they chose to prey on the more powerful animals to destroy them: the great cats, bears, wolves . . . and dragons. Humans kill what they fear. They want to eradicate the things that can kill them. They are a lazy species, and for them it is easier to decimate an entire type of animal than it is to be constantly vigilant.”
His index finger stroked her lip, tugging at it. She tried to remain impassive, for she guessed he wanted a reaction. The way Jack used to when he would tease her. “You are not human,” she said coldly. “You are a demon.”
“I am no different from Sinjin. Do you consider him a soulless monster as well?”
He was goading her, she was sure. “That is not true—you are very different from Sinjin. You are heartless.”
“Indeed? As a young man, I was indentured to serve for eternity as a dragon slayer. I did it because dragons killed my family. Just as your kind destroyed Sinjin’s family.”
He wanted to hurt her—he was using those words like a knife, jabbing them into her heart and twisting them.
“But I do not know which dragons did those terrible things,” she said. “I certainly did not do it. I think it is awful. Why should I die because of the actions of some other, brutal dragons?”
“Dragons kill slayers. They do not stop to question the morality of their prey. They just kill.”
“Most dragons don’t kill that way!” she cried. “Of course dragons attack dragon slayers. They do it to save their lives. Just as you would kill a dragon to save your life. Do you not see? It is the fear of an attack that drives each side to kill the other. It should just stop! Surely there could be peace.”
“Not when both sides are living to mete out revenge.” The prince pushed her and continued on down the corridor, his hand at her lower back. “You should be thankful, Lady Lucy. This is what will bring Sinjin to you. His fear that you will die.”
But he might be dead... .
He shoved her and she stumbled against one of a pair of smooth, glossy black-painted doors. “In this room,” the prince said, in a rumbling, accented baritone, “my dragon slayers work off the thrill and heated blood that comes after they have killed a dragon. It is exciting to face such an enormous, dangerous beast, and be the victor. It arouses men incredibly. This is what tempted Sinjin to slay dragons. He got the revenge he craved, and he also received incredible sexual arousal.”
Lucy shuddered, but said defiantly, “I do not believe you. I do not believe he ever felt pleasure over what he did.”
Suddenly the wall pressed into her back. The prince had propelled her against it. His face hovered in front of her, his lips separated from hers by mere inches. She was trying not to breathe, so she did not smell him—even though he smelled like Sinjin. He smelled of cool crispness. On Sinjin, the scent was alluring. The prince smelled like ice—cold, hard, inhuman.
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