Lucas’s heart pounded. How could she bereal? He’d written her off as a fantasy, yet here she was, her every movement speaking to him, as though they were locked in a dance and nothing else existed.
His brain barely registered what Udo said to her, but he got the gist of it. Enough to know that her name was Aria, and that she wasn’t actually a concubine. His blood boiled when the underlord forced her to reveal more of that luscious flesh. The Dragona’s palpable anger only made him want to rip Udo’s small furry arms clear off.
If she wasn’t a concubine, then what was she? Most Dragons had tail spikes, but when she pulled hers free from her waist to hide it behind a case, her movements possessed the fluidity of a dancer.
Dancers didn’t usually carry swords. Could she be a bodyguard? But then why was Udo forcing her to look like a concubine? More likely, she was his mistress. A possibility that caused Lucas’s gut to churn.
He was riveted by her, and averted his gaze with great difficulty. Her presence, here, in a situation that was already fraught with difficulty—it spoke to something cosmic about to happen.
Lucas had a healthy respect for Fate. She tended to be a very bitchy creature. So when the lift doors opened, and Udo’s client stepped off it, Lucas’s heart froze.
Crimson eyes glared from hatchet-sharp features framed by long, mostly white hair.
A Torshin. He’d seen pictures. Heard things.
All bad.
Stories tended to grow with time, but looking at the monster, Lucas had little doubt as to the truth of what he’d been told. Because this Torshin had come to the meetingalone. Without a single bodyguard.
And the only reason someone would do that, was if they didn’t need them.
* * *
When the Torshin entered the room, Aria’s blood turned to ice.
Raised as she was by a Trog and a Dragon, she’d heard stories of the great Torshin-Dragon war. Her mentors had an impressive catalog, including how the Torshins had destroyed two realms before the Dragons stopped them.
The stories were old, and Mervok loved to embellish, while Danao mostly listened with his eyes gleaming. She’d be inclined to dismiss them—except this Torshin had come to a tense first-time exchange with an unsettling confidence.
No bodyguards. As though he didn’t fear for his own life.
Every merc in the place appreciated the relevance of that fact. They stood stiffly at attention, their weapons held ready.
An old hand at the fine art of bluffing, Udo appeared unconcerned, but he couldn’t control his scent. Aria smelled his fear.
The crystal running through her blood resonated with something she couldn’t identify. But it wasn’t coming from Udo, or the Torshin.
It came from the other Trog guard. His energy now seemed subtly different from what she remembered... Before she could quantify what about it seemed off, the Torshin advanced into the room and stopped about ten feet from them. His gaze wasn’t fastened on Udo.
It was locked on her.
His crimson eyes flared with hate. And something more—triumph? A frisson of ice traveled down her spine.
His mouth opened, and she caught a glimpse of dark, pointed teeth within. “My name is Demeti,” the Torshin snarled in Formal. “And you are every bit as perfect as my source suggested. We are going to have such fun.”
As if on cue, a howl sounded from somewhere a floor above them, along with thuds, the swish of steel and sporadic gunfire...
With a swiftness belying his size, Xolto raised his weapon, but the Torshin gestured with one hand. A blast shot from his fingers and scorched a hole clear through the overseer. As Xolto dropped, Udo turned to flee.
Aria was already in motion. Her Dragon would be too big to fight effectively in this space, but her talons erupted as she propelled a panicked Udo toward a display case to shield him. But before they’d taken two strides, a second blast set him on fire. His screaming form thrashed, and then collapsed.
Dammit.So much for saving her boss. As Aria lunged for the display unit that hid her tail spike, her fingers clawed at the collar, but although she punched the button, the collar wouldn’t release.
Then something huge and heavy hit her from behind. A pulse of the strange energy identified him—the guard she’d injured.
“Take cover!” he shouted, hauling her the other way, to a display counter across the room.
Knocked off balance, Aria struggled to extricate herself from the leathery arms. Without her tail spike, she needed the power of her Dragon. Her wings ached to erupt from her back, but she couldn’t properly shift so long as she wore the cursed collar.
