Throne of Oak (Maggie's Grove) (15 page)

BOOK: Throne of Oak (Maggie's Grove)
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His father had only done that once before. Laurentiu still refused to speak of it.

Off to his right a pale blue dragon roared, flame spouting from between his lips. Vasile didn’t hesitate, attacking the dragon with a fierce determination that led Dragos to believe there was some bad blood between the two.

“Lezeu. He fought Vasssili for hisss posssition, cheated and earned Father’s approval. He almossst killed our brother. He’sss now one of Father’ss generalssss.”

Of course Laurentiu had approved. If Vasile had died in the ring, he would have been viewed as weak, unworthy of the title of Prince. It would also have eliminated a rival of his blood, a successor the clutch would accept without question. “Then by all meanssss, let’ss kick hisss asssssss.”

The two banked, flying toward where Vasile battled Lezeu. Dragos flamed the pale blue dragon, trying to avoid striking Vasile. His brother was caught in Lezeu’s jaws, his forearm cracking audibly. Vasile shrieked in agony, pulling away from the sharp teeth embedded in his arm.

Trajan raked Lezeu with his claws, trying to get the dragon to release his brother. Dragos flew above and tried to force Lezeu down, but Lezeu dodged, tagging Trajan and making him bleed.

But they accomplished what they’d set out to do. Lezeu released Vasile, and their brother renewed his attack, dripping blood but undeterred.

Dragos flinched away as something dove at him, biting into his tail. Another dragon—this one so dark a blue he appeared almost black—had latched onto him and tried to shake him like a terrier with a rope.

I
don’t think so.

Dragos shifted to his human form so quickly he doubted the other dragon even saw the change. Without a tail, he was free to move, diving under the rival dragon then switching back to dragon form. He drove his horns into the dragon’s belly.

Hot blood poured over his head and into his eyes, blinding him. The dark dragon howled, tugging free of Dragos’s horns before departing from the field of battle. It was a dire wound, one that would prove fatal if he didn’t seek medical attention.

Dragos doubted the dragon would. His father had no tolerance for failure. That warrior would likely die, alone and in agony.

Wiping the blood from his eyes revealed the clutch winning. More than half the town’s vampires were on the ground or dangling from trees, either dead or unconscious. The owl shifters had been decimated, the few left struggling to retreat.

Of the night-time flyers only a few were left.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Parker take to the air once more as the forest flooded with light, startling the clutch. Mina was using her powers, giving herself an advantage.

Arrows began to fly as the Queen of the Forest entered the battle once more. From below, the howl of the hamadryad sounded, the trees responding to her call. Amara was climbing, using Greer’s trick of gliding easily from branch to branch before latching onto a dragon and pulling him down under the canopy.

From the ensuing screams, Amara’s tactic had been brutally effective.

Water blasted into the sky like a cannon, shoving a violet dragon into a white one and knocking them both for a loop. Another floundered, gasping as a popping sound told Dragos that the air elementals had joined the fray. They alone of the elementals were capable of flight, joining their brethren in the sky and sending gale-force gusts at the clutch. Another dragon was pulled violently from the sky, his wings snapping like twigs under the force of a gravity no mortal could withstand.

“About time they joined in the fun.” Parker, a cheeky grin on his face, waved to one of the air elementals as the woman dove by. “Hello, Mrs. Robinson! How’s your boy?”

“Fine, thank you, Dr. Hollis.” The woman made a pulling motion, and a dragon floundered. “And Amara?”

“Having far too much fun, I assure you.” Parker laughed as a brown-tinged hand rose from the forest canopy and pulled down another dragon. “You think she’ll want one as a pet?”

Dragos needed to ignore their antics. The clutch would adapt, would begin to respond to the new, unexpected threat. They would—

An angry howl rent the night air. A familiar one, answered by every wolf in the forest.

Noah had arrived, and he was
pissed.
Dragos could feel that howl, deep in the part of himself that was still shifter, still wanted to bow before an alpha, pulling him to the ground to be judged.

Dragos fought it. His vampiric half was the stronger of the two, but it was a struggle. It was the first time he’d felt the full force of Noah’s fury, and it tugged at his senses, demanding he obey.

The alpha called, forcing the lesser shifters around him to submit, his strength greater than some of the clutch had ever faced before. Laurentiu was the only one capable of forcing the clutch to disobey so strong an alpha. Despite the difference of species, Noah was more than capable of ending the conflict simply by forcing his will upon the dragons.

Trajan winced, descending to the forest floor, answering the call. Several of the clutch followed him down—more from Laurentiu’s side than he’d expected. Those who’d chosen to withdraw when Vasile and Trajan took the field succumbed more slowly, but they inevitably did, taking human form along with their brethren when their feet touched soil.

Dragos looked around to see who was left, and blinked in shock.

Vasile remained in the air, seemingly unaffected, his battle with Lezeu continuing unabated. The only other dragon left in the sky was—

A terrible pain dug into his skull with white-hot claws, and Dragos knew no more.

Chapter Eleven

Mina looked back to the sky just as a dragon call trumpeted through the air, and cursed. A dragon was falling straight toward the Throne, changing in midair to...

Mina ran. If Dragos hit the ground at that angle he’d break his neck. He might survive, but he’d never walk again. Not even vampires could sustain an injury like that and not be affected. Desperately calling on the forest for aid, she dashed toward where he would impact.

She had to catch him.

Soft moss grew at her command, twice its normal size—a cushion for her lover to break his fall. Branches moved out of his way, giving him a clear path to the ground. Vines moved, not under her power, breaking his fall, slowing him down.

Amara was taking care of her friend.

A glow surrounded him, slowing him further as Selena hovered over him, her hand extended. The tree of life blazed on her forehead. She was healing him as he fell—Ash holding her steady as the broom wobbled. He would leap, taking the witch doctor with him if the strain became too much and the broom fell.

Greer, his orange-and-blond hair soaked in sweat, dashed into the Throne, tugging Mollie behind him. “Watch her.”

And Greer, deadly, silent, and swift, leapt into the air, snagging Dragos and rolling until he was on the bottom, taking the majority of the impact on himself. Mina could hear the snap of bone as they landed in the moss, Dragos’s dead weight breaking something in Greer.

Mollie’s jaw dropped practically to her knees as everything in the Throne went silent. Even the continuing battle between one of the Ibanescu brothers and the pale blue dragon had broken off—the darker dragon drifting over the Throne and releasing a mournful cry that broke Mina’s heart.

“No.” Mina raced forward. She couldn’t lose another, couldn’t lose Greer as well as Iva. Her heart couldn’t take it.

Dragos was unconscious, barely breathing, bleeding from a wound on his head. His arm rested at a crooked angle, broken, his legs tangled with Greer.

Bark-covered hands lifted Dragos away from her, off of Greer. Mina nodded her thanks to Amara. Dragos would live. His presence was a heartbeat in her mind, soft and slow from his injuries, but there. She looked down, and shattered.

Greer wasn’t breathing.

“Move, Mina.” That soft whisper barely reached her.

Mina took a step back, distantly aware that she was obeying the one voice that could move her from Greer’s side, the one person who could save him. Already the leaves of the Throne’s Birch were dropping green tears, mourning the loss of its dryad.

A glowing white figure stepped daintily into the moss next to Greer, its silver hooves silent and sure. His long white mane ruffled in a breeze only he felt. The tip of his horn—glittering with a magic Mina could barely understand—dipped down and touched Greer’s chest.

Greer heaved in a breath as the light enveloped him. His brown eyes opened so wide she was afraid they’d pop right out of his skull. He thrashed as the light brightened around him, healing the damage he’d taken onto himself to save Dragos.

The light gradually dimmed, and the unicorn stepped back, the swish of his tail the only sound.

Mina knelt before the unicorn, her head bowed, her hand on her heart. “My lord. Thank you.”

The silver horn touched her cheek, came away from her with a single tear on its tip, one she hadn’t known she’d shed. She lifted her head and watched the unicorn majestically cross the grove, his head held high, the silver horn lighting his way. She refrained from calling out to him.

She would keep his secret. None would know how Dominic had saved Greer. But she’d been unable to stop herself from offering her thanks in the only way she could, by honoring him. Not even before Dragos would the Queen of the Forest kneel, but before Dominic she would, and gladly. She only hoped Dominic understood.

Something told her he would.

When the last of the unicorn’s light had faded away she turned to Dragos. Selena was at his side, her own healing magic working its wonders on the vampire. He was already awake, aware, and from the look in his eyes he’d seen everything.

Had Dragos known what lived in their midst? The rarest, most precious creature on earth, one of the last of his kind, and he hid here, in tiny Maggie’s Grove?

Crap. If the Van Helsings found out about Dominic
nothing
would keep them out of Maggie’s Grove. The magic properties of a unicorn’s horn were legendary, even among humans. They would kill him and take it from him, believing it would hold Dominic’s magic long after the man was dead.

They’d be wrong. Only a pure soul could wield the magic of a unicorn’s horn. If Dominic died, if his horn was taken, the only way to wield it then would be to place it in the hands of a creature even rarer than Dominic.

A person with no darkness in their soul.

No such person existed. The horn’s magic would quickly fade, but not before it acted, not before it performed some small magic that would make the humans
believe
it still worked. They’d try everything to get that magic back, but nothing would ever do so.

Thus the hunt would begin again. Another unicorn slaughtered for his magic, another life lost to greed and a desire for power unearned. The unicorns had been hunted to near extinction for a magic that could not be passed on, no matter what the legends said.

No wonder Dominic hid.

“Mina.”

Mina started. She’d been staring blankly at Dragos, her thoughts whirling, ignoring completely the battle with the dragon clutch. How could she have forgotten that her lover lay injured, her brother of the soul barely alive?

“What the hell are you doing, you idiot?” Mollie’s outraged voice pulled her attention away from Dragos. Mina blinked and laughed. Greer was turning cartwheels in the middle of the Throne. “You were
dead
.”

“And now I’m not. Isn’t that great?” Greer leapt into the branches of his tree and shot Mollie a saucy grin. “Were you worried about me?”

The fire elemental glared at him. “No.”

Greer fell out of the tree, laughing his ass off as Mollie started to race toward him.

“Welcome to Derpville, population one.” Selena was also smiling, shaking her head at Greer’s antics. “Okay, Dragos, you should be fine with a little blood.”

“Thank you, Selena.”

“You’re welcome.” She went to stand and swayed, almost collapsing. If Ash hadn’t caught her she would have been right next to Dragos on the ground.

Ash swept the witch doctor up in his arms. “Time for all good little witches to go to bed.”

Selena stuck her tongue out. “What will you do if I’m a bad witch?”

Ash looked down at her and raised one eyebrow. Mina didn’t need to hear his response. It was written all over his face.

That was
not
the way she wanted to picture her brother. Ever.

Ew.

“Buy her some ruby slippers!”

Greer’s outburst startled a laugh out of Ash, but that didn’t stop him from carting Selena from the Throne.

“I wonder if she looks good in green?”

Mina shared a glance with Dragos and burst into laughter.

Flame erupted above her head, silencing her. “Thisss isss not over. I will not allow thisss!”

Dragos struggled to his feet. “Hello, Father.”

The periwinkle-blue dragon, its scales pearlescent in the light cast by the Throne, hissed. “Do not call me Father. You lossst that right the moment you accepted the Kisssssss.”

Dragos nodded once. “Fine. Get the fuck out of my town,
Laurentiu
.”

“You do not order me, abomination. You ssshould be dead.”

Dragos shrugged. “Technically? I am.” He crossed his arms over his chest and lifted into the air, bringing himself in line with his father’s snout.

Mina clenched her fists. One wrong move, and she’d have barbecue instead of a lover. Vampires were
not
immune to flame, and Dragos had just placed himself in the flamethrower’s path.

“My people will not bow to sssome furball from the coloniesss.”

“They already have.” Noah’s voice floated to her through the darkness surrounding the Throne. With the light up, it was impossible to see into the trees, the darkness deepened to an impenetrable veil. “Stand down, Laurentiu Ibanescu.”

She saw the dragon shudder at the power in the wolf’s voice. The lavender eyes, glittering in the light of the Throne, turned toward where Noah’s voice had come from. “No.”

With that, the Prince of Dragons sent forth a cry that shook the very ground. Every dragon but the brothers Ibanescu answered that call, crying out with one voice for their Prince. The clutch took to the air, swooping and hovering around their Prince in a dance that appeared to be a familiar one.

Greer snickered, unimpressed. “Dude.” He laughed harder.

Laurentiu’s massive head swiveled toward Greer. “What, you idiot?”

Mina almost grinned. Yet another person underestimated Greer.

“You’re
lavender.
” Greer elbowed her in the side. “How the hell am I supposed to take a lavender dragon seriously?” He started singing “Puff, the Magic Dragon” under his breath.

Laurentiu roared.

Dragos tsk’d. “Oh, that touched a nerve.”

“I swear, if you start singing the Barney song...” Mina glared at Greer.

Greer shuddered. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Even I’m not that sadistic.”


Enough!
” The Throne shook with the force of Laurentiu’s bellow, even the oak rocking down to its roots. “I challenge you, Dragomir. Face me in battle.”

Dragos, his expression filled with horrified wonder, shook his head. “What the fuck is
wrong
with you? You exiled me. I’m no threat to you. I couldn’t rule the clutch even if I wanted to. Which I don’t, you piece of shit.”

Laurentiu shifted and landed outside the Throne. Mina dimmed the light, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man who’d made her lover’s life a living hell.

He had the same dark hair, the same gray eyes as his children, but where even Vasile, hard as he seemed, had a gentle edge to him, Laurentiu had none. Cruelty and rage lived in his face, marking it with frown lines around his mouth and deep grooves in his forehead. His shoulder-length hair was as thick and full as Trajan’s but lacked Vasile’s soft waves.

It was as if someone had taken all the darkness in each of the Ibanescu brothers, distilled it to its finest, purest form, and named it Laurentiu.

“Go back to Honalee, Puff. No one’s interested.”

Laurentiu didn’t deign to respond to Greer’s taunt. “I have been watching you, Dragos. You’ve built a clutch here.”

“A clutch of one.”

She was starting to wonder if the sneer ever left Laurentiu’s face. “They may not be dragons, but this is still a clutch. See how they came to the defense of your—” he flicked a dismissive glance at Mina, “—
sotiei
?”

Dragos landed next to her and slightly in front, as if he expected his father to storm the Throne’s protections and attack her personally. “Then you should have no worries that I’d want to run your clutch, Laurentiu.” He took a step forward. “I would have let you be forever, but you couldn’t let it alone, could you? Your people were the ones watching me, not you. They liked what they saw here, didn’t they? They wanted what my people have, what you refuse to give them.”

“And what would that be?” Gods, she hoped Dragos heard the subdued hatred in Laurentiu’s voice.

“Freedom.”

Figures moved at the edge of the light, and Mina extended her senses. The dragons had surrounded the Throne, listening as Dragos and his father exchanged verbal barbs. The owl, bat and wolf shifters drifted through the dragons, taking their places by the sides of men and women they’d been fighting to the death only moments before. Even the vampires, wounded and not, took a place by the sides of their Maggie’s Grove brethren to find out what Dragos would do to put an end to Laurentiu’s madness.

“I am the Prince of Dragons, the ruler of all our kind. You are an exile, an abomination. You have no right to build a clutch, to rule anyone. You cannot even rule your own nature.”

Dragos gestured to the people gathered around the Throne. “And yet I have, for centuries. These are not cattle, here to feed my appetites. These are my
people
, my friends, and I will defend them with my dying breath.”

“Then accept my challenge.”

“If you win?”

Laurentiu waved his hand. “All that is yours becomes mine.”

Dragos took a step back toward Mina.

“Your Queen will come under my rule, but her virtue will be safe.” Laurentiu grimaced. “I would not want to toy with your leavings.”

The trees around the Throne rustled their leaves at the insult to Mina. The feel of the forest became darker, less welcoming. The dragons shifted restlessly, their shifter nature tied just as tightly as the locals to the atmosphere of the forest. Even Laurentiu shifted his feet in response.

“Father.” Vasile stepped to the edge of the Throne and faced Laurentiu. The fight with the pale blue dragon had taken its toll on him. He held his arm cradled to his side, and blood dripped from a gash on his cheek. But he stood tall, his back straight, his eyes locked on his father. In him, Mina saw what Laurentiu could have been. A proud, strong man—a true leader, one who could take the clutch and make it something greater.

“You are no longer a son of mine.”

Laurentiu attempted to dismiss Vasile, but the younger dragon was having none of it. “You know the law, my Prince. You cannot challenge Dragos.”

“Which is why I’ve been trying to simply kill the abomination!” Laurentiu moved until he was right in Vasile’s face, but the younger dragon didn’t flinch, didn’t react. “How
dare
you side with him? You and your brother are dead to me.”

Vasile nodded. “Then I challenge you in my brother’s place.”

“You have no brother.”

“My brother is Dragomir Ibanescu, wrongfully exiled by the man I am forced to call Prince. My other brother is Trajan Ibanescu, mated to Edward Warren, Renfield to Dragomir Ibanescu, the child of his heart.”

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