His dark eyes are open, full of cinnamon and clove fire.No more.I hear clearly in my mind as his full lips quirk.No more… or I might just lose all this hard-won restraint I am fighting for right now, to keep us both safe. I am a darker man than you think, Rikyava. I don’t belong in your budding band of heroes. I never did.
My lips fall open now, as Mikkel admits mind-to-mind that he’s not my answer. I need another Bone Mage as a Bloodmate to fully mature my power; but we both know it will not be him, as I haul my power back with an iron fist now, nodding to him.
He nods back, and I know we’ve reached an accord. Still, some part of me feels desolate, like he was, as Aesa’s stone mourns upon my breast.
That we will not be mates—ever.
“Ström. Why are you here, you and your trio? Do you need haven from the Black Dragon Knights?” Recovering his brisk, businessman do-it-all nature, Mikkel’s gaze snaps to Ström as he thrusts his hands in his trouser pockets.
Like he has to keep them there to prevent himself from claiming me.
“Yes and no.” Ström cocks his head, watching Mikkel and me. “The Council knows I’m a Bone Mage now, same as both of you. They’re after me—but that’s the least of my problems right now. The biggest part of my problems is something you both may be able to help me with. But another problem is something I’m not sure you can help me with… though you’re the only clue I have at the moment.”
“Intriguing! I like a good mystery. Lærke, shall we get started on whatever new mystery our stormcrow has brought for us?” Mikkel’s dark eyes shine with copper as he claps his hands together now, rubbing them and grinning eagerly, back to his showman’s ways.
“It’s something that’s going to get us killed, and you know it.” Lærke sighs now as she crosses her arms, tapping the toe of one stiletto on the floor. Mikkel gives her a sad, fake-mopey look as he actually whines like a dog. Lærke scoffs, as she throws up her hands. “Fine! Fine. Whatever it is, we’ll talk. Butnopromises. And if I catch even awhiffof danger to our persons or our clubs, when we are already under such spitfire from the Black Dragon Knights Council, the three of you are out the door. Fast.”
“We understand. Completely.” Ström places his palm to his chest, giving them a short bow.
“Enough flattery, Jarl-Heir.” Mikkel laughs, his energy soaring now as he claps Ström on the shoulder. “What is this first mystery you’ve brought us?”
“Rikyava. Show them your phone.” Ström nods to me as he indicates to show them the pictures I’ve taken of our cypher scrolls fromUnhaemmerten. I slip my phone from a pocket of my dress and find one picture, then move forward to hand it to the twins.
Mikkel moves forward to accept it, but something in me jolts before our hands touch; an instinct floods me that his sister would be safer, as I turn to Lærke.
Depositing my phone in her hands, rather than her brother’s.
Mikkel’s eyebrows shoot up at my denial of contact. He doesn’t gainsay me, only crowds close over Lærke’s shoulder now as she sucks her teeth and swipes through a few shots.
“Ancient Bone Mage cypher scrolls. From around the time of the Great War, by the looks of them,” she says, surprise in her lavender eyes as she glances at us. “Where in the gods’ names did you find these?”
“Unhaemmerten. Up in Magnussen Lands,” Bjorn growls, though he’s been silent this entire time, just standing at my side like his own kind of bouncer, should anything turn nasty.
“These are priceless.” Mikkel hums in agreement as he looks at the phone, tapping a lip distractedly with one finger.
“Can you read them?” I ask, focusing on why we’re really here tonight.
“If you give me a little time with them, yes.” His gaze pins mine, on fire with intrigue now, even as they scorch me, hot. “These scrolls use a cypher Lærke and I know well; we use it for our clubs all the time. It was used in ancient times by our people, but fell into obscurity, so we revived it for our secret club communiques. Even upon initial perusal, there are many words in this document here that I don’t know, however.” Mikkel taps his finger on my phone, frowning down at it. “It seems like some kind of instructional manual… for something called the Dragon of All Souls?”
“You would know that as the Usurper.” I nod my chin at my phone. “The ancient Black Dragon that an ancestor of mine created, which nearly wiped out all of Blood Dragondom five thousand years ago during the War. It’s been resurrected from its secret grave. We’re after it; we’re going to kill it once we find it. The woman who engineered it wrote those scrolls and they may hold clues on how to take it down—for good this time.”
As Lærke’s lavender eyes practically bug out of her head, Mikkel’s full lips fall open. Horror sears in Lærke’s gaze as Mikkel’s shines with vivid intrigue.
“Oh, yes,” Mikkel says, as he grins hugely at me and Ström. “Thatis a mystery I would very much like to solve. Lærke?”
“Hellno,” Lærke says, almost in the same breath as her twin. She hands me back my phone, pointing at the door. “Get out. Get the fuck out now, or I will personally throw the three of you out and put such incredible wards on our every hiding place that you will never hear from us again, much less be able to find us. Ever.”
I take my phone, but give Lærke Thorsen my shittiest gaze ever.
She raises her chin.
Her massive Bone Magic cinching around me like a boa constrictor, to escort me out.
23
TROUBLE
Mikkel Thorsen interjects his dragon-energy in a firm barrier between his sister and me, as Lærke Thorsen threatens to toss me out of their Copenhagen club. I understand her anger; as she stares me down with hot lavender-crimson eyes from across Mikkel’s barrier now, I know we’ve just kicked the hornet’s nest of her wrath.
