Taste of Darkness (20 page)

No, he had to play this right and if anyone remembered him asking too many questions it could work against him later. He was very good at remaining unnoticed and he planned to keep it that way.

But the chef in the kitchen had been speaking to Greer—both unaware of his presence—as if the wolf shifter and Drake were mated so he had a plan to take them both out at the same time. Poison was simple and unlike those Veles dragons, he wouldn’t fail. This time, Greer wouldn’t be able to heal them. He’d target the shifter female with something much stronger than the Veles poison. Something that would affect her kind specifically. Liquid silver. If she died, Dragos would die too. Getting it shouldn’t be too hard either.

Nice and neat, exactly the way he liked it. Unless of course they weren’t mated yet, but that was a bridge he’d cross later if necessary.

Even if they weren’t, her death would make Dragos suffer. Since all his family deserved any pain he gave them, the shifter’s death would still accomplish inflicting agony. They should feel exactly how he’d felt when he’d lost everything, when those he loved most were taken from him. Feeling his rage heighten inside him, he shoved it back down. When he got too emotional, his dragon tried to take more control and he couldn’t allow that to happen. Couldn’t allow his animal to go feral.

Once he made it to the sidewalk, he kept his stride even and quiet as he hurried down the street. Only when he was far enough away from the guest house did he let his camouflage fall. Turning down a side street, he headed toward Main Street. He planned to pick up pastries from their local bakery so he had a reason to have been away from his own home when he returned.

Always cover your bases. Something he never failed to do.

Chapter Seventeen

This is beyond stupid.
Bran Devlin wouldn’t even look at his brother as they cruised down the highway toward the Petronilla village. Instead he stared out the darkly tinted window of the SUV they’d rented—annoyed they didn’t have a bullet resistant vehicle—scanning the snow-capped mountainous landscape. They were roughly twenty miles out when they shouldn’t be here at all.
It makes us look weak.
As leader of the Devlin clan that was something he couldn’t afford. Something his normally astute and deadly brother would understand. Bran might hate that he’d been forced into ruling the clan after his parents’ deaths, but he took full responsibility for his people. Coming here like this wasn’t a smart tactical move.

Fia wants to see Dragos. They were childhood friends.
A sigh broke into Bran’s thoughts, his brother Gavin not bothering to hide his frustration at having this conversation again.

We should have waited a week or so to arrive.
Not shown up the same fucking evening the male’s mate had come out of a Veles dragon poisoning. How could his brother or even Fia think this was intelligent reasoning? It was poor form. But his brother could never deny his mate Fia anything. The female was his brother’s only weakness. But normally his brother could rein in Fia’s sometimes frivolous requests.

You didn’t have to come.
A bite to Gavin’s words.

Turning to look at him, his jaw tight, Bran glared at his brother through his one good eye.
And let you walk into this viper’s nest alone?
That was perhaps harsh considering the Devlin and Petronilla clans were peaceful with each other. But his brother had basically stolen Fia from Conall, the current leader of the clan. It didn’t matter that it was years ago; males tended not to forget those things. Bran’s attendance for this gathering had nothing to do with his clan leader duties and everything to do with being a big brother protecting his younger sibling.

Is that what this is really about?
Gavin asked.

What else would it be about? Your fucking mate says jump and you ask how high. So here I am because of that female.
Harsh, untrue words. Ones that would earn him a fist across the face. And one he wouldn’t block.

Gavin was silent for a long moment, his green eyes flickering from dragon to human as he watched.
You have partial eyesight. You have no reason to be ashamed or to avoid interaction with others.
Soft, unexpected words.
Even if you seem to hate our kind.

Jaw tight, Bran turned to look out the window again. He wished his brother had just smashed his nose in rather than say all that. Gavin was ten years younger than him and usually the more passive of the two. Unless any ill mention was made of Fia. So Bran had been expecting, no
craving,
the physical violence over the words he’d just thrown at his brother. Not…softness.

I don’t hate our kind
. And he wasn’t ashamed, he just didn’t like the pitying stares, especially from females. As a whole, the dragon species were incredibly beautiful. Except for him. He was a lone fucking freak among his people who’d been born with a birth defect. Not that it had ever slowed him down. He missed his former job with a secret black ops group the US government ran in tandem with other countries to keep the world from finding out about supernaturals. Because humans simply could not handle that shit. They could barely handle the fact that their neighbors might believe in a different god or be attracted to someone of the same sex. If they found out they weren’t at the top of the food chain? Fucking war.

“Are you two talking telepathically?” Fia asked from the front passenger seat, her voice holding a lyrical quality. “It suddenly got tense in here.”

Bran didn’t respond as Gavin leaned forward and murmured quietly to his mate. He ignored the sweet way they spoke to each other, wishing his brother could communicate telepathically with his mate so he wouldn’t have to listen to them. But it was a Devlin gift, passed on only to those with Devlin blood. In the same way the Petronilla clan could understand any language, the Devlin’s were able to communicate in this way. It definitely had its uses.

“You’re going to love Keelin. I haven’t seen her in hundreds of years but every time we talk on the phone it’s like no time has passed. And I can’t believe Drake is back…” Fia’s voice was excited, but Bran tuned her out as she continued chattering on.

He wasn’t sure if she was talking to her mate, him, or the other warriors in the SUV, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t care about meeting some female or her back-from-Hell brother. He just wanted to get this shit over with and return home. He had enough business to deal with, without this impromptu trip.

Especially when he knew his brother was holding something back from him. He’d sensed it before they’d left their territory, but Gavin had feigned ignorance when Bran pushed him. He just hoped it was personal bullshit and had nothing to do with the Petronilla clan.

* * *

Drake walked down the sidewalk, ignoring the curious stares from the few people out jogging or walking pets. Dragons who had dogs? That was certainly an oddity. Victoria would probably find it amusing. When a female with a fluffy, white dog that looked rabid stopped on the opposite sidewalk as if she might cross the street, he increased his stride and didn’t make eye contact. He didn’t want to get caught up in conversation with anyone now. Or ever really.

He didn’t know these shifters. Everyone was an enemy until he knew what had really happened to him.

He probably should have just driven or had someone drive him but he’d wanted to stretch his legs. And he didn’t want to fly until he had miles and miles of open space and freedom. He and Victoria had spent the whole day in bed, with her sleeping most of the time and him just holding her. He wanted to do more than hold her, but she’d been so exhausted and he’d known it wasn’t the right time.

She’d woken up about an hour ago and was now visiting with Rhea and Gabriel. Since the Guardian had sworn he wouldn’t leave Victoria alone, Drake felt free to leave her for a few minutes.

This was a conversation he needed to have in person.

When he reached his brother’s home, he found the high, iron gate around the property unlocked. Pushing it inward, he let it fall back into place before striding down the long, stone walkway to the two-story home that was much larger than the normal sized homes he’d seen in Biloxi. Not quite a mansion but it was very large, especially for just one person. He’d noticed that about all the houses in the village.

The front door wasn’t locked when he tested it, but he rang the bell anyway even though Conall had said he could come in whenever he wanted. Moments later a tall female with inky black hair secured in a bun and an apron tied around her waist opened the door, her expression annoyed until her gaze landed on Drake. She smiled warmly, her grayish-green eyes sparkling. “Dragos, you never have to ring the bell.”

He cleared his throat. “Drake is fine. Is my brother here?” He didn’t recognize the female and wondered if she knew him. He hated not recognizing people when he was certain he should. It made it that much more difficult to figure out who he could trust. The female seemed startled by his abruptness and he inwardly cursed his rudeness. Fucking social niceties. “Ah, he said I could come by whenever I wanted.”

Motioning for him to come inside, she stepped back. “Of course you can. I… Conall said you didn’t remember much but I guess I hoped he was exaggerating. Do you truly not remember me?”

Inexplicable guilt threaded through his veins and he wasn’t sure why. “No.”

Her eyes welled with tears, but she quickly blinked them away. Taking him by surprise, she grasped his hands in hers, her grip strong. “That’s okay. We’ll get to know one another again. I’m your Aunt Alma. Your mother’s sister. I was there for your birth. I was the third person to hold you, after your parents. You were a giant, wrinkly thing.”

Aunt? She looked to be about thirty-five, maybe forty. Something deep inside him warmed at her touch and he found himself half-smiling. A faint memory tickled the recesses of his brain. “Did I steal a roast or some form of meat from your house, or maybe barn, once? You scolded me, then made me cookies.” The first part of the memory was fuzzy but he remembered the cookies. That didn’t seem like an effective method of punishment.

A sharp peal of laughter escaped as she nodded. “It wasn’t a roast, you devoured an entire cow from one of my pastures. You were seven and your dragon side was growing and you plucked a cow right out of our pasture. I never told your mom either. Not that I think Arya would have punished you either.”

“And you made me cookies.”

Her eyes crinkled at the corners, the delight on her face bright. “I did.”

That warmth spread through his chest again. Feeling compelled, he stepped forward as if to hug her, but then worried that might be strange. She took away his choice then, covering the short distance between them and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Her strong arms wrapped around him and it was so familiar, so…welcoming, he wasn’t sure what to do with the emotions welling up inside him. So he patted her back awkwardly. “Hopefully my memories will return soon,” he murmured.

She squeezed him hard once before stepping back, her eyes wet again. “They will. And I hear you’ve brought a mate with you.”

He nodded, unsure what she thought of his soon-to-be mate being a wolf shifter. Not that he cared what anyone thought, but he wanted to be prepared for his clan’s reactions. It would help in determining his future interaction with them. Because if Victoria felt unwelcome, he’d leave.

“Good. I can’t wait to meet her. And I can’t wait until you two start making babies.”

Drake blinked at her words, not sure if there was a response to that. The thought of having children with Victoria pleased and terrified him. Kids right now? He didn’t know enough about the world yet to contemplate being able to care for a helpless, tiny being. As he tried to think of something to say, the front door opened behind him.

Instinctively he tensed, turning toward the door. Two familiar scents teased his nostrils, but he couldn’t place them. When two males stepped inside, both their eyes widened in surprise.

“Boys, so glad you’re here.” Alma moved past Drake and motioned for the other two males to enter.

They did so almost hesitantly. “We didn’t realize you’d be here, Dragos,” the one with dark hair said.

Cody. Drake remembered the male’s name with startling clarity, though he wasn’t sure of his relationship with either male or how they were related. For some reason, the sight of Cody raked against Drake’s senses. Or perhaps his dragon simply felt annoyed. Drake kept his expression neutral so his emotions wouldn’t show.

He tried to remain civil, keep his voice polite and remember social niceties. Even if he didn’t trust anyone. He didn’t bother attempting to smile, knowing it would come off more as a baring of teeth. His dragon wasn’t feeling nice right now being confronted by two relative strangers. “I didn’t know I would be here either, Cody.”

The male’s dark eyebrows raised. “You remember.” He glanced at Alma before looking back at Drake. “We were told you had lost your memory.”

Drake lifted one shoulder casually, not ready to reveal more about himself than necessary. “I remember your name.” He looked next at the other male, a handsome male with blond hair close to Drake’s height. A mix of emotions filled him as he made eye contact with him. Nevin. “And you are Nevin?” He phrased it as a question as he spoke even though he was certain he was right.

The other male smiled and nodded. “Yes, we’re cousins. Both of us, actually.” He motioned to Cody.

When Drake focused on the other male again that wary feeling was back.