Immortal Dragons: The First Four: Prequel + Books 1-3 Page 24

  Erika cast her gaze playfully to her mate’s, and Belah was amused to see Geva relax and a slight redness creep into his cheeks. A woman who could make a Red dragon blush was a very special being, indeed. She glanced around at the open layout of their high-rise apartment, imagining the pair of them entwined on every surface.

  The images shifted in her mind as she rinsed and stacked the dishes, then began to load the washer. Instead of her hosts’ bodies merged in lovemaking, the images from her dreams filled her mind. She worked mindlessly, allowing the feelings to wash through her as the hot water flowed over her hands in the sink and the music from her dreams flooded her memory.

  She began humming along to the secret song when Erika’s surprised laugh hit her ears and made her stop and look up.

  “How in the world do you know this song?” Erika asked. Belah looked at her, confused for a second before she realized the music was no longer only in her head, but reverberated through the entire apartment, filling the air around her with enough potency to make the small hairs stand up on her arms.

  “I dreamed of it,” Belah answered.

  She moved to stand in front of the small, black box that was the source of the music and closed her eyes. “Where did you find it?” she finally asked when the song ended and she opened her eyes to see both her hosts staring at her.

  “Find it?” Erika asked. “I didn’t find it… I know these guys. They’re old friends I met when I was an undergrad. I’d always come to the city when classes weren’t in session. After Dad died, I hated going back to that big, empty house in Massachusetts. At least in New York I knew I could be alone without really being alone.”

  Beside Erika, Geva had picked up an illustrated case that displayed an image of three pairs of wings spread out and arranged in a triangle. Looking over his shoulder, Belah could make out the words “Fate’s Fools” written in the center.

  “You say you know these musicians?” Geva asked, eyebrows raised.

  Erika lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug and gave her mate a teasing smile. “I was groupie number one back in the day. They’re phenomenal live. That’s actually a bootleg one of their fans put together—they’ve never signed with a label, as far as I know, but they still play in the city regularly. If you guys like the music, we should go check them out. I bet they still play at the same bars. Guys like them hate change and tend to stick around.”

  Geva’s shoulders shook with a low laugh. “My sweet love, I think you’ve given us the best clue to start our hunt for Belah’s mate. These musicians are turul.”

  “What the fuck?” Erika grabbed the case from Geva’s hands and stared at it.

  “What is it?” Belah asked, reaching for the case. Erika let it go with an irritated sound and walked away.

  “Holy fucking Christ, why can’t anything I ever loved not be connected to you guys? Now my favorite band of all time has to be, too?”

  “Your favorite band?” Belah asked. Before she could rein it in, her power pulled Erika back. She struggled for a second to release the woman from the snare of her mind, but Erika was already facing her when she finally let it go.

  “Belah… you have something you want to share with us?” Erika said in a sultry tone, her breath brushing against Belah’s cheek. Belah clenched her eyes shut.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I shouldn’t have, especially not you.”

  “Especially not me? Oh, honey, Geva really doesn’t mind if we get cozy. As long as you don’t mind if he joins in when I need him. We’re trying to have a baby, you know.”

  “That’s why I can’t,” Belah said, forcing herself to restrain her powers and resting her hands on Erika’s shoulders. She exhaled softly through her nose and met Erika’s gaze. At the last second, she forced a smile on her face that she hoped would seem genuine.

  “Congratulations, Erika. You’re about to become a mother.”

  Chapter Three

  Erika dropped her hands to her belly and stared down at them, dumbfounded. Behind her, Geva slowly set down the music case and stared at Belah.

  “A baby? She’s really…” His words caught in his throat and he moved toward them.

  “Yes,” Belah said. “I can see it in her aura. There’s no mistaking the fertile glow of a new mother. So as much as I appreciate the offer, you know I can’t accept your Nirvana. Your baby needs it.”

  Erika turned and looked up at her mate. “It happened,” she whispered, then grinned through burgeoning tears.

  “It did,” he said softly. “Oh, my love.” His words cut off in his throat as he swept her up in his arms and squeezed her tight.

  Belah beamed at them, happier than she’d been since ancient history. And even though she was hungry for magic now that she was outside of the Glade—with its perpetual source of power and the regular visits from the Catalyst to attend them—she knew she could wait a little longer.

  Geva and Erika retreated to their bedroom. Only moments later, the energy of the entire apartment shimmered with the power of their lovemaking.

  Belah examined the music player and finally worked out how to set the music to play on a continuous loop, then sat on her hosts’ sofa and closed her eyes while the beautiful melodies washed over her.

  She spent the night letting the music fill her and trying to picture the turul male who would soon become her mate. She still could only envision bits and pieces—the silken caress of feathers a contrast to the callused fingertips that brushed over her skin. Sometimes it seemed like he had an extra pair of hands that only managed to increase her desire for him.

  If only she could let herself forget about the greater desire to seek out Nikhil now. She eventually opened her eyes and stared out the high windows into the twinkling lights of the city. How far away was he now? She could fly away and seek him out, but her energy was low and she had no idea where to look.

  Over the last few centuries, Nikhil had been increasingly difficult to locate through her reflecting pool, to the point that he’d eventually gone entirely dark. Even though she knew almost every location of the numerous Ultiori compounds, she never caught a glimpse of his aura at any of them. And when she did see brief glimmers of him, they only lasted for fleeting moments before he disappeared again, as though some dark veil blotted out his existence.

  A small part of her believed that she didn’t need to seek him out, but perhaps that was only wishful thinking. He had loved her in his way, though at the end, the darkness must have taken over his mind. She’d loved that part of him—the sadistic nature that gave her so much pleasure leading up to their wedding night.

  She still remembered his missive to her that night—that he would do that one thing for her, but to never ask it of him again. He would deliver her into that perfect oblivion just once in the manner she had asked for it, because he loved her and would have conquered the world for her glory. Had it been a cry for help that she’d ignored? She spent the last three thousand years asking herself that question. If she hadn’t asked for that final gift from him, would the darkness have ever fully taken over? Could he have been redeemed at all?

  Could he be redeemed now?

  The question haunted her. She’d had no contact with him in all this time, but she’d seen the devastation he had wrought upon the dragons and the other higher races. He was as brutal and meticulous a foe to them as he’d ever been to her enemies when he was her commander. She only fleetingly craved his touch—the bite of his whip or the cut of his blade—now that their love had been revealed for what it really was.

  Thanks to the clarity of hindsight, Belah had realized the truth was not as romantic as she’d believed. She had been broken when she found him, still longing for the lost child that had been taken from her. Nikhil had been physically destroyed and near death. The pair of them had filled a void in each other. Or maybe they had recognized a kindred emptiness they both possessed, and had revel
ed in the realization that they weren’t alone in their cravings for oblivion and pain—his craving to give, and hers to receive.

  It was love, to a point, but she knew now that it was built on a damaged foundation that would have inevitably crumbled. And it had, in the end. The atrocities he’d perpetuated on them since losing her were not acts of love.

  In his absence, she had taken stock of her own role in making him what he was. But in the end, she had to admit to herself that it wasn’t love that drove her desire to find him, but the knowledge that her children were out there somewhere. That he had found them meant they were within her grasp for the first time since losing them. Her craving for oblivion had all but disappeared the moment she learned of their presence, and even though she still had no idea where they were, for the first time since losing Zorion and Asha, she had hope of being reunited with them, and Nikhil was the key to that reunion.

  If he had ever loved her, she believed he would find her. And so she would let Fate dictate her path yet again. Even though she cursed that timeless creature daily, she knew balance must be kept, and Fate never failed to make that clear.

  At least she had her dreams, for now … and if the music was to be believed, she would have more than dreams soon enough.

  * * *

  Unable to fully sleep, Belah rose when the first glimmers of sunlight touched the walls of the apartment. She poked her head into the fridge and the cabinets, examining all the foodstuffs her hosts had in stock. One of the human pleasures she’d nearly forgotten about was the food—something she and her siblings hadn’t required while living in the Glade. But her craving for it had come back with a vengeance, and along with it, the vivid memories of her favorite dishes.

  Geva and Erika lacked a few key ingredients, but she could make do with what they had.

  By the time her hosts came padding out of their bedroom, she had the table covered in food and fresh juice. They dug in amid murmured compliments and gratitude. Belah simply ate and enjoyed their company, letting the little pang of envy she felt for Erika’s healthy maternal glow settle in her belly. If she succeeded with her goals while she was here, she would have an abundance of wealth at the end. She would have both her lost children back and a new one growing inside her, too.

  “Geva,” she finally said when the handsome Red sat back with a sated sigh. “You said you had a clue where to start looking for a turul mate. Was it the music that told you?”

  “Sort of…” he began. “The band itself is turul, we know this much, but Erika isn’t sure those males are good candidates for you.”

  Belah raised an eyebrow at Erika.

  “They’re musicians,” Erika said with a shrug. “I mean … you’re practically a goddess. I envision someone a little more … refined … for you. But what do I know? Maybe you like them rough around the edges like that.”

  Geva chuckled. “I tried to tell her that turul aren’t exactly the most refined in general, and most of them are musicians as it is.”

  “They’re phenomenal lovers, at least. Well, Ozzie is, anyway. I don’t know about Iszak or Lukas.”

  “Ozzie?” Belah asked.

  “Oszkar West. He’s the drummer in the band. Iszak and Lukas North are the two sax players. Ozzie’s their cousin, I think.”

  “I’d like to meet them,” Belah said. “Even if neither of them are the right turul, they make beautiful music. Judging by their names, they’re descended directly from the Winds.”

  “Well, that’s where the clue comes in,” Geva said. “Their grandmother is a turul seeress. She poses as a psychic and a matchmaker for the locals. The humans love her, but more importantly, she’s been around forever.”

  “He just means she’s older than him,” Erika interjected. “How old did you say she was?”

  “Sophia North’s almost two thousand years old. I remember hearing about her before my hibernation. She knows everyone—I’m not even exaggerating. She’s a little scary, though, as old as she is.”

  “I’m probably a little scarier, given my history,” Belah said. The pair went silent for a beat and Belah regretted trying to make light of the truth.

  “We all have regrets,” Erika said. She set her hazel-eyed gaze directly on Belah, the force of it imbued with enough meaning that Belah couldn’t help but wonder what the woman had experienced in her short life to have become so wise.

  “Mine are somewhat epic, though, wouldn’t you say?”

  “This is your chance to change that. Tell us what you want, Belah,” Geva said. “We are your servants.”

  “That’s what I don’t want. Being my servants is a risk. I’ll accept your help, but please consider me an equal while I’m here.”

  “I guess that means you’re doing the dishes again?” Erika said with a grin.

  “It would be my pleasure,” Belah replied.

  * * *

  A few hours after a short subway ride and then a trip on a ferry, they reached a quaint apartment that had a locked door and a buzzer outside. Several names were listed next to a row of buttons, but the word “North” stood out. The name glowed with an intriguing hint of old, lingering magic. It had been there for ages, yet hadn’t faded.

  Geva pressed the button and the speaker next to it crackled to life. He spoke a swift greeting in old draconic that surprised Belah, considering how young he was.

  Geva caught her surprised look and shrugged. “My mother was the queen. I had to learn all that shit. Never knew why it was worth the bother at the time.”

  The door buzzed open and they entered, then walked several floors up a dark, narrow staircase. The door at the top landing was open, but they paused at the threshold. Geva peered through, then called out.

  “Hello? Mrs. North?”

  A smooth, feminine voice called out from somewhere inside over the faint rhythm of music. “Send in the beast herself. Alone. She’s the one with the quest.”

  All Belah could see was a wall of high windows, the sunlight streaming through them. It illuminated a dense collection of objects that were painstakingly organized on shelves and small tables throughout a comfortably furnished room.

  Layers of colorful rugs covered the floor so no wood was visible beneath, and the furniture was old and well-worn, yet still sturdy. It had the feeling of a large nest, the way the sofas were arranged, with a large hassock in the center and several books strewn about, as well as musical instruments leaning here and there—a guitar against the fireplace, a saxophone in the corner, an oboe on the mantelpiece. Beneath the high window, the sunbeams glinted off the polished ebony surface of a baby grand piano.

  Steeling herself for a confrontation she shouldn’t have been anxious about, Belah stepped into the apartment.

  The air seemed to shift around her in a disconcerting way. She tried to ignore it, making her way into the living room and standing by the fireplace, taking in the myriad framed photos that were leaning here and there, and covering the walls on either side of the chimney.

  Most photos featured a trio—two men and a woman who resembled each other so closely they must have been siblings. In several photos, there was a fourth figure—a handsome male who looked nothing like the others, but who often seemed joined at the hip to the female.

  Something in the man’s bearing struck a chord with her. A glimmer of his aura was visible in the photo, and its familiarity betrayed the fact that he was Blessed. But why would he be with a turul, if that was the case? Blessed humans were meant to be mated to dragons.

  “Fate’s a devious bitch,” said a voice from behind her.

  Belah spun around and stumbled back, shocked at the sight before her. Where the over-stuffed furniture and knickknack-laden shelves and tables had been was nothing but a bare cliff-top opening up to a wide, empty sky. At the edge stood a statuesque woman with dark, slanted eyes and jet black hair cascading over her shoulders. Her olive ski
n glowed with power.

  Regaining her bearings, Belah said, “Sophia North… I’ve heard so many things…”

  The woman waved her hand in the air. “I know why you’re here, girl. I’ve been waiting for the moment to tell you what I really think of you.” Sophia’s gaze traveled down the length of Belah’s body. After a moment, she simply sniffed dismissively. “I suppose you’ll do. But I warn you: what you want must be earned. I’m not about to hand you the answer.”

  “What I want…?”

  Sophia studied her for a moment, and Belah was sure the woman could see deep into her soul to every dark secret she held within. All her desires must have been on display, the way the woman’s gaze seemed to strip her down to the bone. She’d never felt so naked before.

  “Your dreams, girl. The children you desire won’t come unless you work for it.”

  “What do I need to do?” Belah said, straightening her spine and meeting Sophia’s hard stare.

  “You need to stop accepting the hand Fate has dealt you, sister. Nothing worth treasuring ever came to us without a fight.”

  “I just want my babies back.” Belah struggled to keep her voice steady, and even though she knew she was here for another reason, she felt compelled to share this desire with the woman who stood across from her.

  Sophia’s gaze softened. “Theirs is not the only love you want returned to you. But they are safe and will come to you in time. Focus on your dreams, but don’t ignore the signs that you find in the darkness.”

  Frustrated by the woman’s cryptic dialog, Belah crossed her arms. “Fine, but you’re also supposed to help me find a turul mate. Can you at least do that?”

  With a loud pop the open sky and cliff disappeared, and Belah found herself back in the over-decorated living room with the sweet strains of beautiful music filling her ears again.

  “Oh, sure. Honey, what you want to do is go to this address at seven o’clock tonight. Tell the maître’d you’re with the West party and he’ll seat you.” Sophia hurriedly scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Belah. “You’ll enjoy the food—it’s dragon-style gourmet. Delicious, but a little too rich for my blood.”