The Vampire Queen's Dragon Lord

Chapter 5

Determined to break the dense fog that had clouded her mind since the dragon's arrival, Anastasia notched her chin up and fell into step behind Luthur. After descending the spiral stairs, they maneuvered down the narrow corridor to the dungeon. The dark walls on either side of them wept. Musty water and stale materials filled the air. The scents comforted her like a reassuring security blanket would a child. She'd made this trip dozens of times. This was what she did, what she was good at. Although she never found the twisted pleasure Luthur did in torture, she'd always successfully retrieved information from her captives.

And she needed that crystal.

The sharp crack of a whip followed by a tensed, muffled groan pierced the quiet. She stopped, her heart pounding in her ears. The whip lashed again. At the answering grunt of pain, the bite mark on her neck burned. Anastasia fingered the sensitive flesh, covering it with a curtain of her hair, when Luthur looked over his shoulder at her.

A moment later, they rounded the corner into the subterranean bowels of the catacomb. Lit only by torchlight, the dungeon boasted everything one might need to punish, maim or kill an enemy. An assortment of bloodied weapons hung on the flagstone walls and littered the tops of the scarred wood tables. A row of iron-barred cells lined the wall to the right, while a rack and other instruments rulers had collected over the centuries, occupied the space to the left.

Tonight, the soldiers had strung the dragon up against the center wall. His arms and legs were shackled to the sides. The silver collar was attached to a bar above him. His gorgeous body in complete human form was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Every corded and porelike muscle was taut like a bowstring. His hard, muscled abdomen, peppered with bullet holes, flexed under the next bite of the whip. Unbidden, her body warmed, remembering his body pressed flush against hers. Her palms burned to skate over every smooth inch of him. What was wrong with her? Again, the whip lashed his flesh. She flinched at the sound.

"Come, Anastasia."

At the sound of her name, the dragon lifted his head. She stilled as striking blue eyes burned into her, watching her with unwavering intensity, even when the soldier rained another biting blow on his shoulder.

"Do you want the honors, or shall I?"

At the query, her mouth parched. Luthur was known for his insatiable bloodlust. Somehow, although she had no idea how, she knew this dragon would not break easily. In anger, confusion and frustration she strode forward to the soldier doing the flogging.

"Give it to me," she ordered, holding out her hand.

The soldier smiled and set the leather instrument in her hand. She palmed the handle, feeling its familiar smooth line and curves. After a deep breath, Anastasia put it on the table. Instead, she stepped up and smacked the dragon square across the face.

"Where is the crystal?"

He slowly turned his head to her face, a cold smile in his icy eyes. "I don't know."

She hit him harder and asked again. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, he let out a low laugh and locked his gaze with hers. "I guess it's true what they say about blondes."

Anastasia raked her palm across his face again. This time, her claws broke the skin of his handsome cheek. And this time when he stared at her, his smile held no trace of humor.

"The crystal!"

"I told you. I. Don't. Know," he said through clenched teeth.

"You're going to have to lie better than that."

"Lie? Where could I possibly be hiding it?" he nodded at his bare body.

Luthur stepped up from behind her, offering a spiked instrument designed to peel flesh from bone. "Let's find out, shall we?"

Sickness rose up her throat at his words. She swallowed it and took the whip. The burden of it hung like a lead weight in her hand. She did not want to do this. For the first time in all her years as a warrior for her people, she did not want to torture her enemy. And she couldn't explain why.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

At Luthur's prod, she knew if she didn't whip the dragon, not only would she be punished, but Luthur would take over the interrogation. And none ever survived his questioning. Ever. However, something in the corner of her mind whispered that if anyone could last more than a night in the horde's dungeon, it would be this dragon lord before her.

Clamping down her jaw, Anastasia stepped closer. Her eyes fixed on the streaks of blood on his chest and the hard lines of his body. So different......

She stepped closer, so close that the heat from his body curled around her. She leaned forward and spoke, so only he could hear. "Just tell me and end this."

The dragon stared down at her, faint creases lining his brow. Then he looked at Luthur and back to her. Understanding finally lit his eyes. She noticed they stared at her with less cold revulsion, less hate. He let out a sigh as if coming to some kind of decision. Then he inclined his head toward her.

"Do your worst, vixen," he whispered before leaning back again. "You'll get no answer from me." The latter he shouted loud enough for all ears to hear.

When she still did not move to strike him, the dragon smiled. "It is a shame we didn't have just a few more minutes together, you know. I could have made you sing with pleasure," he said with a wink. Luthur lurched forward, snatching the spiked apparatus from her hand. Anastasia barely had time to duck out of the way before he swung the weapon high, raining a blow across the dragon's golden chest.

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In one fluid motion, Talia landed at the causeway of the dragon's mountain lair and shifted form, moving seamlessly from the air to the ground. As she walked into the darkness of the cave's mouth, the ancient stones that guarded the doorway to the inner city shifted open, allowing her passage. It had opened only a foot before she saw Falcon, Declan's second, waiting anxiously on the other side of the wall. Talia noticed he was dressed from head to toe in black combat attire and wondered if he'd come close to trailing them---wondered briefly if the outcome would have been different if he had.

Pushing the thought down, she stepped inside. At the sight of her, his handsome face lit up in a smile. "Good, you're back," he said, pushing his bare shoulder off the wall. His waist-length black hair trailed behind him like a sultry veil. Talia blinked and looked ahead as he fell into step beside her. "The council has been awaiting you...." His words trailed off.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw his brow crease when he looked over her shoulder and saw the wall closing. "Where's Declan?"

At his question, Talia's chest tightened, and her legs almost buckled beneath her. Clutching the tattered brown satchel to her chest, she moved further into the black outer tunnel. The air cooled with each step she took, water droplets plopping against slick stones being the only sound other than her and Falcon's footsteps. Talia kept walking until large hands gently covered the cape of her shoulders, forcing her to turn. Although she reluctantly spun, she kept her chin down, her eyes closed. She couldn't bring herself to say it. Couldn't acknowledge the truth her heart already knew.

"Talia," Falcon's soft voice wrapped around her like she knew his arms wanted to. But their's was a warrior's society, a hard, fighting order. Weakness of any kind, especially love, was frowned upon, more than ever since the murder of their King and Queen. Her parents. Declan's parents. A barely audible sob hiccuped in her chest.

"Oh, gods, no." Falcon's fingers squeezed into her flesh with such need it seemed he'd fall over if he let go. It was then that Talia allowed herself to look into the face she'd known since she was born. A face etched with pain and loss that mirrored her own. Tears welled in her eyes and she shook her head, still unable to speak the words aloud. Falcon nodded, silently telling her he didn't want to hear her say them. He lifted a hand, smoothing a strand of hair from her eyes before resting his warm palm on her shoulder.

"Come, we must tell them," he said, nestling her under the crook of his arm.

Talia wanted to push away from him, wanted to walk into the council room with her head held high with pride and she and Declan had succeeded in the job they had set out to do. But the warmth of Falcon's body filled a tiny hole in her now empty heart. Made the enormity of it all shrink away for just a brief moment. So, instead, she closed her eyes, rested her head against his shoulder and allowed him to guide her.

Their mountaintop lair spilled into a network of tunnels and caverns of every size imaginable. Talia knew every room by heart. Now Falcon led her through the hub of their inner city. She knew it with her eyes closed. The heat of too many bodies suffocated the normally cool temperature in the caves. Lights flickered behind her closed eyes. The hearty smell of spiced meats filled her nose and the hum of constant voices buzzed in her ears.

Falcon's arms tightened as they turned down the long corridor leading to the council headquarters. Once the sights and smells of the inner city faded behind her, Talia eased from his protective grip and opened her eyes. After the briefest of pauses, Falcon released his hold on her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Falcon said nothing. He didn't have to. A few more steps brought them to a pair of double doors. Guards stationed on either side nodded at their approach and opened the doors. Falcon and Talia stepped inside the circular chamber. A lone chandelier hung above the table, lighting the ancient meeting room. All the council members were present and seated. Talia's breath hitched at the sight. Other than Hawk, Falcon and his older brother, Kane, there were no other elders left. Young dragons now occupied the table where, just months ago, her mother, father and brother used to sit.

This war had been costly and not only to the Bishop's. It touched every family in every line without discrimination or remorse.

And now, it's taken Declan.

Talia slammed her eyes shut. The hands holding the satchel shook. The fatigue and fear she'd ignored crashed down, nearly choking her. A deep voice sounded. "Where is your brother, Talia?" Kane asked.

She lifted her chin, forcing herself to keep it together. "They caught him."

"Was he wounded?" asked Hawk, the last surviving member of the original colony and oldest council member.

Talia couldn't find her voice, so she nodded in reply. Someone cursed. Another let out a long sigh. After a moment's pause, Hawk rose, his chair scraping against the stone floor as he stood.

"And the crystal?"

The room fell silent. Eager eyes met hers. Wordlessly, Talia held up the satchel. Rounding the table, Hawk took the bag from her, ripped it open and searched inside.

"He made me take it and leave. He wouldn't let me stay and fight...." Her words died when Hawk removed the contents.

A rock. A plain stone sat in the center of his palm. Wide-eyed, Talia snatched the bag, searching every nook and crevice before chucking the useless fabric across the room. "Dammit, brother," she shouted, slamming her palms on the table and hunching forward. Grabbing a breath, she blew it out slowly and tried to think. Only one thing came to mind. "He must have it on him, hidden somehow. Somewhere."

"Then we go back and get it." Ash, a young dragon barely out of his shell, jumped to his feet. At his words, Talia looked up, thinking he had a hard face for one so young.

"We are finished if they find it first," Kane agreed.

"If they haven't found it already." Hawk released a sigh and smoothed a hand over his bald head.

"Griffin," Talia said. "What if we send him after the Queen?"

Hawk dropped his hand. "The hunter?"

"No way," Falcon interjected, rising up to stand, as well. "We can't send Griffin. Not until we know what's going on. A lord he may be, but he's too dangerous, too reckless." He set worried eyes on her. "Declan might still be in there. Alive."

Griffin was a lone hunter. One who lived like a ghost among his kin and killed his enemies with unnatural meticulousness at an cost. Using him wasn't a terrific alternative, but neither was losing her brother.

"What other choice do we have?" she asked. When no one answered, Talia's gaze whirled around the room, taking in each man's concentrated look. A spark of fear ignited at the plan she saw forming in their eyes. "The horde's numbers. I've seen them." She stammered. "We are too few to fight them." She looked at Ash with his wide eager eyes. "We're too young to ever hope to win."

"Which is why we need that stone," Hawk said with a growl.

"Tal, we have no choice," Falcon said, moving beside her.

"Yes we do. We trust Declan. He knows what he's doing. He must have a plan...."

"A plan, I wager, that did not include getting captured," Kane said, finally pushing up to stand. He narrowed his eyes on Talia. "You're certain he had it when you two left the catacombs?"

Talia reached him in two steps. Tipping her head back, she met his gaze. "I saw it. I saw the damn thing with my own eyes."

His massive body seemed to relax and the doubt she'd glimpsed in his silver eyes vanished in an instant. "Then we go back and find it. We'll have a small group search the cliffs and forests. Another small group to recon to see if he still lives."

At his order, the group moved into action. All except Talia. "See if he still lives," she repeated. "Are you mad? We have to get him out of there!"

Kane pointed to the corner where his mate and resident healer stood, her arms littered with scrolls. "Doc says the horde's ritual is taking place in two days. There is no time to wait for Declan or plan a rescue. I'm sorry, but retrieving the crystal is our top priority. Even Declan would agree."

Talia opened her mouth to argue further but was held back by Falcon. "Let it go, Talia. And you," he snapped to his brother. "Ease off her, would you?"

Talia fought against Falcon's hold. Declan was the only one who never lost his cool. No matter what, he was always calm and levelheaded. Declan. Her heart pinched in her chest as she finally quit fighting. "I can't lose anyone else, Falcon," she said, sinking back into his chest. "I knew the moment he told me to leave, I'd never see him again."

"Don't say that. You don't know that."

But she did. Somewhere in her soul, darkness festered and grew. So much sorrow, so much pain and loss, she couldn't take it anymore. Wouldn't take it anymore. Lips quivering with renewed anger, she pushed out of Falcon's embrace. "That blonde monster," she shouted. Chest heaving, she turned back to Falcon, ignoring the concern in his green eyes.

"She's going to pay for this. They all are!"