walked into my life.
“Not wise to show your pouch,” I say with a
sneer. I can’t resist pushing this guy. Arrogant little
prick.
Fear hits me so suddenly I don’t even have a
chance to brace for it. My muscles slacken, and
unable to hold myself up, my knees buckle under
me. Last time I felt this much power, it was the
Usurper holding me in his grasp.
His scent fills my nostrils, somehow familiar—
the stink of reptile and old magic. No, not reptile,
but dragon blood and wizard magic. But that
doesn’t make any sense. There are no dragon-
wizard hybrids. Is he working for the Usurper? I
wouldn’t put it past him to create some kind of
abomination to enslave the people.
I take another sniff, analyzing all the nuances of
the smell, and then I remember the smell I had
caught on the girl. And a slow, simmering anger
boils in the pit of my stomach.
What if his spies saw us meet that first time in
the alley? Maybe they forced her to sleep with me.
Oh Creator, and I slept with her, took her virginity,
and she wasn’t even willing?
Or maybe not. She had only smelled of dragon
while we were in the café and before she left, not
while she was in my bed, and there was no
underlying scent of fear, just desire. Her soft moan
in response to my kisses was real. She had wrapped
her arms around my neck and tangled her fingers in
my hair as she drew me down for another kiss.
“No threat from me; I don’t steal from my
customers ... sir.” My words slur as I try to force my
tongue to move against the crippling power of the
Dragon fear. I lower my eyes to his chest where a
heart-shaped dragonstone pendant rests.
Hello—that pendant looks just like the one
Brogg described.
I struggle to keep from bowing my head. My
hands shake from the effort. With a slight twist of
my wrist, I release the knife strapped to my
forearm, and it slips into my waiting palm. I will kill
this son of a gecko, right now; then I will take the
necklace.
He shows me his teeth.
He forces me to look him in the eyes, and the
Dragon fear redoubles, coiling around me, melting
me, reshaping me to his will. I struggle to resist, but
my muscles rebel and I drop the knife. My head
bows. I have to obey … for now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t
realize who you were, sir. Your kind doesn’t often
interact with humans, except the sorcerers, and
you mask your scent well.”
“Jason?” The pink-haired girl touches his arm.
“You can put him down now.”
The fear subsides. What is he? No half-dragon
takes orders from a mere human girl.
“Fine.” He drops me to the floor. “But if
someone does come to you, asking you to track us,
you won’t like what happens.”
I pick myself up off the floor and drain the
whiskey from my bottle in one swallow. I grab the
crossbow hanging on the back of my chair and head
toward Riley to pay my tab. As I hand the pirate
bartender the coins, I whisper quietly, “Tell Brogg I
think I found his pendant. He’ll understand.”
As we leave the bar, a quiet buzz rises in the
room behind us.
Chapter 25
~ ANGELINA ~
Blocks of cement cover the floor where they fell
from the ceiling. I set the unconscious siren on one
of the blocks and wrap a blanket around her.
Naked, she looks so cold and miserable.
She stirs, a screech escaping from her throat as
she wakes slowly.
I open my bag full of everything I need—the
book I got from the insane witch, the cake ready to
be frosted, a bowl for mixing the potion, a spatula
for icing the cake, a table cloth …
Pulling out the table cloth, I find a usable desk,
sweep off the rubble, and spread the red cloth with
silver hearts across it, light rippling off the silver.
Next, I lay out the containers of cake and frosting.
I look back into the bag: a syringe and blood
bags for draining the blood, a gun glinting in the
weak light …
I don’t remember packing a gun. I hate guns.
My hand curls around the handle, cold metal
biting into my flesh. It weighs heavily in my hand,
like the weight of the world on my shoulders.
I look at the screeching siren, her eyes sad as
she watches me, her voice pouring out that painful
song. Her green hair hangs down around her face in
tangled curls, and she clutches her stomach as if in
pain.
But still she sings, staring at me with her big
green eyes. I can tell she knows I’m going to kill her,
but she does nothing to stop me.
I can’t do this.
Dropping the gun, I stumble from the room,
tears blinding me. The room is dark and I sink to
the floor and bury my face in the crook of my arm.
What have I become? I’m more monster than the
siren.
What are you doing?
Kill her.
Stop her now.
Dessstroy her.
You dessserve this.
So loud. Their voices sharp, like claws tearing
through my mind, shredding my soul. My head
throbs until I beat the back of my skull against the
cement wall behind me just to drown out the pain.
No. I won’t do it.
I can’t do it.
And then the voices stop. Blessed silence for a
long moment, and I curl into a ball, panting in relief,
enjoying the peace.
Then one voice, quiet and sweet, seductive,
whispers into my mind, You don’t want your sister
to get him, do you? She doesn’t dessserve him. Not
like you do.
Pictures flood my mind—Emma and Jason
kissing. Emma and Jason laughing at me from their
perch in the tree. Emma and Jason, hand in hand,
running away from me and hiding, leaving me alone
in the woods to find my own way home.
Emma is hateful and cruel.
She doesn’t deserve him.
She doesn’t deserve anything.
But she does deserve to watch you win while she
loses. She deserves to fail.
Yes.
My backpack is still lying where I left it, and I
grab the things I need: the leather bound book and
the tools I stole from my college lab.
Standing up, I tuck the gun into the back of my
jeans (like they do in the movies) and then get the
cake out of the oven to cool before checking the
spell book again. The instructions seem so much
more complex than they did when I was in the
witch’s bookstore.
I rub my aching eyes. I need more sleep.
Don’t mess up. We’ll kill you.
Shaking my head, I return to the siren, carrying
the cake with me, setting it on the table with my
equipment, but when I see Jason at her feet,
I stop.
“Jason? How did you …? Where’s Emma?”
I search the shadows, but she’s nowhere to be
seen. The voices—the gods—have brought him to
me gift-wrapped.
I am meant to do this. To save the world from
monsters. To have Jason as my own.
I do deserve this, and the gods reward me.
Yesss, we reward you.
Chapter 26
~ HUNTER ~
The siren’s song grates against my ears, and my
chest rumbles with a growl growing inside me.
Leaving behind the pink-haired girl and the half-
dragon, I creep into the darkness.
Rubble, broken walls, rusty machinery—I pick
my way through the dark edges and follow the
sound.
I find the siren sitting alone on an office chair.
She watches me as I slink through the shadows.
Misery and sorrow cloud her eyes, and my heart
twists for her. I couldn’t imagine being forever
cursed to screech day and night, never sleeping,
never resting.
The half-dragon stumbles through the room and
falls to his knees at her feet and clutches the hem
of her dress. Interesting. The Usurper trains his
minions to resist such a minor psychic assault with
ease. This guy might have lots of power, but he has
no training.
What’s really going on here?
Rubbing some concrete dust onto my fur to
camouflage myself, I follow my angel’s scent
deeper into the darkness while leaving behind the
siren and her ardent admirer.
The warehouse reeks of dragons and foul magic,
and buried beneath it is my little angel. Madness
and desperation add a sickly sweet scent to the air.
And pain.
I sneeze, twice, freezing in dread that she heard
me, but I shouldn’t have worried—the siren’s
screeching is so loud a fire alarm might have gone
unnoticed.
A light spills from an open doorway, and I peer
around the broken wall. Hands covered in oven
mitts, Angel is reaching into an oversized oven and
sets a pan on the counter. The sweet aroma of
sugar and vanilla fills my nostrils. Cake?
Compared to the rest of the building, this room
is amazingly clean. The floor swept, the counters
scrubbed, the smaller rubble shoved to one side. All
that work I saw her doing on the stove—she must
have spent hours in here.
Something’s not right.
She doesn’t smell like herself; the stench of
dragon and wizard magic smothers her natural
scent. She is reading a spell book and muttering to
herself, “I’ll need some blood to draw the runes. Do
I really have to say all these incantations? I don’t
even know how to pronounce half these wordsss.”
Carrying the book to the door, she turns a page
and pauses, reading quietly. “The witch never told
me I’d have to do all thisss ssstuff. I’d better get
sssome blood for the runes before I drain her
completely.” Her voice changes mid-sentence, and
the smell of dragons and wizard magic spikes.
Her nose in the book, she doesn’t notice me
crouched beside the doorway. Her eyes are out of
focus, almost glowing as she says the words. “Good
thing I brought some extra vialsss.”
She stops in the doorway and looks back at the
room, and I use this opportunity to hurry back to
the room with the siren ahead of her.
What’s going on here? If this half-dragon’s not
controlling her, who is? What are they making her
do? Maybe the emperor found me, and this is his
way of reminding me how long his reach can be.
I crouch in the shadows, watching, waiting. My
angel is in trouble, and I need to find some way to
get her out of this mess.
Pinky peers in through the entrance door on the
other side of the office. I make sure she can see me
before she stumbles into the room. These people
might be the best chance to save my girl from
whatever demons the Emperor is plaguing her
with. It would be good for Pinky to see what is
going on first.
Angel stops right inside the doorway. “Jason?
How did you ...? Where’s Emma?”
“Angelina?” Pinky steps out of the shadows and
into the open room.
How funny. My angel is named Angelina. The
name suits her.
“How did you get here?” Angelina asks.
Pinky shrugs. “We were exploring the city and
heard the music. What are you doing here?”
A long moment of relative silence. The acrid
scent of fear burns my nostrils, but from where I
crouch in the darkness, I can’t see the two girls.
“Angelina, I’m your sister. Why are you pointing
a gun at me?”
Uh oh, time to move.
“I won’t let you stop me. You get everything and
do nothing to earn it. You have no appreciation for
Jason, not like I do. I deserve him. I’m the perfect
one. You’re a slob. You grades suck. You barely get
enough to pass and keep your scholarship. I’m the
one who bakes him cookies. I’m the one who sends
him cards for his birthday and Christmas and
Valentine’s Day.” She flails the gun about as she
talks, gesturing with her hands. “And all he does is
moon over you, and you wear dirty clothes, no
makeup, and your hair is a rat’s nest. Now I’m going
to make him forget you.”
This is all about a love potion? This doesn’t
did she sleep with me?
How much of our night together was real?
Those little noises of pleasure she made, the way
she rocked against my hand as I stroked her, her
mouth on mine, her tongue licking my lips—did she
pretend the whole thing?
A sick feeling burns inside me.
Whatever is going on here, I need to help
Angelina. I can’t leave her in the hands of whatever
monsters are controlling her. I couldn’t save
Sammi, but maybe I can rescue her.
And the only way I can do it is to side with Pinky
and the half-dragon.
Chapter 27
~ ANGELINA ~
“Shut up. Shut up!” I can’t stop the tears
coursing down my face, and I wipe them off with
the back of my hand.
Emma leaps at me, grabs my hand, and forces
the gun up. Her fingers press down on mine, and
the gun fires until it gives nothing but a quiet click,
click, click. Empty. Debris showers down on us,
getting in my mouth and forcing me to cough and
spit.
Emma tackles me, and the air whooshes out of
me, her knee in my stomach. Groaning, I grab her
hair and yank so hard a handful comes out in my
hand.
She punches me in the gut, and I rake my
fingernails down her face. I want to scratch out her
eyes. I want to mar her perfect face. Leave her as
u
gly as everyone sees me.
Flipping me over onto my stomach, she yanks
my right arm up behind my back. “Do you give?”
“Stop. Please stop.”
“Your gun is out of ammo, and I’ve proven I can
overpower you. Let’s just go home and forget this
ever happened.”
“Of course.”
She lets me up and moves across the room with
her back to me. I failed. She took the gun and
ruined my chances. I’m an idiot to think I can fight
her and win.
Stupid bitch. She thinks you’re defeated, but
you’re stronger than she thinks.
She’s ruined your life. She’s ruined Jason’s life.
Dessstroy her.
I snatch up the gun, and when she bends down
to pick up her backpack, I bring the handle down
over her head with both hands.
I hope that kills her.
Reload the gun.
Yes, if she’s not dead, I’ll shoot her.
Bathe in her blood.
Yes, blood, juicy, tasty blood everywhere.
I shake my head. What am I thinking? She’s my
sister! She sang me songs when I had nightmares
and held me until I fell back asleep. She played dolls
and had tea parties with me … until Jason came
along and took her from me.
Then she took him from me.
I search my backpack and find a box of bullets in
the front pocket. I don’t remember putting those
there either. For that matter, when did I buy them?
But at least, I had good taste. The gun and
bullets are small and cute. They won’t make a lot of
damage, and that will make cleanup real easy.
Besides, I can control a small gun much better than
the big monstrous things my daddy used to make
me shoot.
Emma lays slumped at my feet, and Jason sits
mesmerized by the siren, still totally oblivious to
the fight we just had. I grin; maybe he’s not as
consumed with love for Emma as I thought.
After tying her up, I jab her in the leg with the
toe of my boot, and she groans, stirring. I like
seeing her in pain.
“You always underestimate me. You think I’m
too delicate. Just because I didn’t go kayaking and
climbing trees. Just because I thought frogs were
slimy.”
She raises her head to look at me, her eyes
glazed over. Now I’m the one with the power.
I leave Emma and go over to the siren. The
siren’s veins are a green line along her pale skin, as