The Fallen One (Sons of the Dark Mother, Book One)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DRACON
Dracon stood in front of his fireplace in one of the larger rooms of the stone mansion of his people. He stood so still, he could have almost been made from stone. Almost. Dracon stood there waiting for one of the household to bring him the visitor they’d announced, moments before, his thoughts on the latest the woman who’d been turned over into his care, from their alliance with the Jaguar People—more specifically, from the hotline Justice set up with Conrad at Second Chances.
Dracon had a feeling his visitor, Lucius, was here for one reason—and that his reasons had everything to do with their latest addition to their ancient household.
It wasn’t that she’d been turned, this latest young woman who’d joined their household, which bothered him. That always bothered him. No one should become a Vamp in such a way. It was—most disconcerting to wake and find your life changed. But it was criminal to find it changed so radically.
Most didn’t know Vampires existed before they found their life, the life they’d known, brutally ripped from them. Then, to wake—hungry. And not a hunger like anything they’d ever known—but a hunger that drove every other thought from their mind—except for the smell of blood. A smell they could smell from some distance. Especially when they were newborn—a fledgling.
But something about this one nagged him.
He looked at his new visitor. He had the feeling he’d find out why. And instinct told him he wouldn’t like it.
Lucius inclined his head to the old Vamp in a show of respect.
Dracon stood there, still not moving. Finally, he said, “I understand you’re a friend of Justice?”
Lucius grunted. “Yes. But I understand you—are his brother.
“Nothing showed on Dracon’s face. Nothing ever did. He had years to learn to control his emotions. It would seem the Starborne also learned to control his own. Dracon felt surprised by a rare moment of interest. He held out his hand to indicate a seat.
Lucius took the seat and waited as Dracon sat across from him. “Do the Starborne drink?” he asked.
Lucius smiled, then said, “Yes.” But he held up a hand before Dracon could command a servant to bring him one. “But I know the Crow People do not.”
Dracon actually smiled at that. Few knew the history of his people to such an extent. Lucius had a lot of knowledge. “So, what brings you out here?” Dracon said.
Lucius leaned forward slightly at this. “Well—it would seem you have Mira’s sister.”
Dracon could not have been more surprised. “Mira’s sister?” Lucius nodded. “But that would mean….”
“She is also—Jes’s sister,” Lucius supplied.
Interesting. Dracon pondered this. Interesting indeed.
“Where is she now?” Lucius asked, glancing around at the marble floors and columns.
“We have been helping her—teaching her how to deal with her hunger,” Dracon answered. “Teaching her the way of her new world—one she must live in now.”
“She can never come home?” Lucius asked. Dracon nodded. “She can do so for periods of time—when she is ready. She can be with her sisters whenever she wants, but she cannot stay for long. Her world is too different. It would be too difficult for her. At least, right now.”
Lucius grunted. “She will need to be readied—as soon as possible,” he said.
Dracon’s amber gaze narrowed on him. “Did you not hear what I told you?”
Lucius nodded. “Forgive me, but she must get ready as quickly as possible. She must train with her sisters—the Sisters of Three,” he said.
Dracon took that in. He realized she’d need her sisters at some point. He needed to think on this. Finding out about the Sisters of Three changed things. He’d heard of legends of such sisters. He hadn’t realized these sisters held a place of such value in the prophecy. But it fit. “Okay,” he finally said, “but I’ve no idea how she can handle such hunger and train with them so early in her change.”
“I have an idea,” Lucius supplied. “It’s something I know of with the Starborne. May I send Amar to her?”
Dracon grunted. Amar too. Finally, he nodded his assent. And Lucius took his leave.
For a long time, after Lucius left, Dracon stood at the window looking out at the darkening sky. He loved the night. But there was no surprise in that.
He wondered if Justice knew the sisters carried such a place in his prophecy. He wondered if the sisters even knew they carried such a place. This changed everything.
He felt something for Dara he hadn’t felt in over a hundred years, for any woman. Would Justice let him keep her here, now?
He didn’t have much of a choice.
She’d been turned. And she’d be more comfortable with others who dealt with the same things she now found herself dealing with—to deal with the hunger—to be able to feed. And, most of all, to learn how to survive in their world. After all, it was far different than the one she’d come from.
There were different rules—different laws. And some of these didn’t allow for Dara to go off and do her own thing. The Elders kept track of their own. They would want an accounting. The only one who didn’t follow these rules was too old, and battle wise, to control. He made his own rules. He followed his own laws.
That made him dangerous—and not only to their people. He was considered dangerous to the humans. He couldn’t be controlled, and therefore, he’d become a threat to the Alliance.