Dangerous, Diabolical
12.3

As wonderful as delayed decapitation sounded, the only thought that I was currently capable of processing was; to kill a vampire you had to remove the freaking head. Was Grahame already almost kind of alive again? I audibly groaned, causing a passing Fae to jump.

On the one hand, at least it was something for Leofstan to not add to the vendetta list. On the other, the vamp might already be up and walking and conspiring with his fellow council men to launch a dragon hunt pronto.

My footsteps smacked hollowly on the brick floors upon entering the castle halls. Either the thought of biting into Grahame’s undead heart had come flooding back with a vengeance, or David was the worst case of indigestion I’d ever had. Clutching the cramps in my stomach, I involuntarily doubled over, trying to hold in the urge to launch my stomach contents all over the main corridor.

Several sets of guards had taken a sharp interest in observing my behaviour and a sheen of waxy sweat began to accumulate on my brow. It was a while before it was even possible to stand straight and resume a slower walk back to my room. It wasn’t good to show any weakness in the land of the Fae. Here, you could only rely on your strength, anything less was to leave an opening. I nodded to the guards appreciatively as if they were doing a great job, returning wan, awkward smiles.

To feign further I idled as if I was exactly where I wanted to be, pretending to exude that the wall tapestries were incredibly interesting despite the feeling in my stomach growing worse by the second. A burning started in the back of my throat that couldn’t be attributed to any flames.

From behind me, a deep commanding voice spoke gently. He didn’t need to shout. His presence alone was enough to demand attention. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several maids curtsey. Not now! I grimaced.

“Lady Andine. A moment of your time.” King Soirrinar greeted.

Great.

My tone was snappish. “Is this about our agreement?” I wanted to just curl up in bed and never leave.

His lip quirked, eyes remaining unreadable. Soirrinar stood straight and proud in a simple tunic adorned with the stitching of secret enchantments. Today he wore a crown of delicately golden knotted dandelions that looked as if they were frozen in time to last for a lifetime. It was all rather dainty compared to anything worn on Earth.

“It is a pleasure to have you as a guest within my court. I do hope that you still intend to bequest me an evening of your time.”

That wasn’t what I’d agreed to at all. The feeling of wrongness spread to weigh heavily on my shoulders. I didn’t have time to play whatever game he was up to. If that was what it would take to get him to leave then it would have to do.

“Is next full moon agreeable?” I asked. That would give me a couple of weeks to hopefully get whatever this was out of my system, and figure a way out of the deal so it was on my terms.

With the practised grace of a hunter, Soirrinar tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed.”

“Excellent,” I responded, quickly turning on my heel before he could add anything to the conversation. There were a few gasps from onlookers that I hadn’t waited to be dismissed, but at this point, there was going to be a lot more for them to gossip about if I stayed longer.

As soon as I was out of sight in the hallway to the private quarters, I bolted. Stepping as quickly as my feet would allow without breaking into a run; my fingers fumbled as they fished the room key out of its pocket. It took far too long to fit the blasted thing in the lock.

I wasn’t going to make it to the bathroom.

Slamming the door behind shut, I launched towards an antique-looking vase on the dresser, spewing the entirety of my stomach contents into it.

It exited as a dark mucus sludge, glooping at the bottom of the porcelain in a sheep that for a moment I feared I was about to eject my stomach with it. I’d avoided dying as a sacrifice, only to succumb to food poisoning.

Finally, the bout subsided and I was left shaking, clutching the vase in a fascinated repulsion.

All I could do was wait it out, panting heavily, eyeing up the opening into the vase in case more threatened to leave. That’s when amidst the thick liquid, something glinted.

Not quite believing it, I rolled the vase around to move the gloop for a better look, and sure enough there was something solid in it that clinked against the side. For a moment my hand wavered. I did want it. There wasn’t anyone to see. Leaning away, I stuck in a hand to retrieve the item from the still-warm liquid. Like honey, it clung to the small object as I tried to pull it free. But underneath the coating, it was unmistakably a ring.

Cramping forgotten, and almost tripping over my feet in haste to reach the water jug in my room, the ring received a good dousing.

It was pure gold, set with the blackest stone I’d ever seen and considering my extensive collection, there was no stone I didn’t already possess. But I’d never seen one like it in my life. I knew every element that could be moulded into jewellery - and that included naming the weird ones - with a glance I knew if it was glass or diamond.

Rolling it around in my fingertips, it remained trapped in its secrets. The only certainty about it was that it wasn’t enchanted, but it had been.

With a deep breath, I stopped looking at the magic and searched for what wasn’t. The magical signature was smoky; like the cherry notes of wood. Underneath that was an emptiness that made me shudder, a taste of dried blood filled my mouth.

Whatever spell it had held was long gone.

I had no doubt Leofstan would know the enchantment straight away. Hell, he could probably tell me what type of stone was in it. Mr. know-it-all. I bet he would even want to take a sample of the vomit to inspect.

Alone, I slowly lowered to sit on the bed as I continued examining it. David must have been wearing it when I ate him; it’s the only explanation. The question was, where had he gotten it from? Could he have spelled it? It didn’t feel like his magic. His magic signature was cold, empty and rotten.

Rolling it over my palm I wasn’t ready to write it off yet, convinced that any second its mysteries would jump out and reveal just what, and to whom it may have belonged.

I almost launched off the bed when a voice next to me said my name.

“Celandine Doukas, the anomaly, is a dragon?” Turning my head, I wasn’t in my room at the Fae castle anymore. The stone walls faded away to be replaced with a hideously floral patterned wallpaper that tried its best to ruin any cheer that could be garnered from the single window. On the other hand, someone had watered the plant in the meeting that had once looked half dead.

The words were owned by none other than the dark-haired head of the SPCC council. He glared up from thick brows over his crooked nose. “Caesarius!” I exclaimed, trying to slide the chair away. Instead, I catapulted back into my room, the soft blanket of the castle bed still underneath me.

Gulping back in surprise, I glanced to the spot he had just sat; seeing only the doorway to the bedroom’s washroom. What the…

“She transformed into the creature in front of me.” Leofstan’s voice answered, a harsh bite to his words. I snapped my head around, only for the blonde Druid himself to be seen sitting at the far end of a wooden table. Behind him, was a door that could only belong on Earth. The frame was too square and the handle too dull to originate in Faery.

Clenching my eyes tight I shook my head, but the fae castle didn’t make its return. Impossible! There was no way Leofstan’s influence could reach me here. I wasn’t even asleep!

“Leofstan, old friend, this is truly a catastrophic misjudgement.” He scribbled down something. “We must eliminate her at once,” Caesarius replied.

This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. All I could smell was my room. Whatever was going on, I hadn’t moved. Yet that knowledge couldn’t prevent a prickling sensation to coat my skin, a buzz to settle unbidden.

“I cannot,” Leofstan answered him, a crack of anguish escaping, a deep lilt entering his English.

“As the head of our Anomalies Division, not only did you fail to identify one of the most dangerous species in existence, but you’ve also failed to sever the perversion of your magic.” The room fell deathly silent. “I suppose at least we can close the case of reanimation. That can be counted somewhat as a success.” He skimmed some papers in front of him. “As I can see in your report, it is unfortunate we were not able to capture the offending specimen.”

“Quite.” Leofstan agreed tersely.

“However it does seem that the Spellcaster was repeatedly successful in opening dimensional gates. Fortunately, he was stopped before any of these became permanent additions to the realm’s instability.” He shuffled the pages, and I caught sight of the ring on his finger.

“What became of the portal which was opened by Celandine Doukas?”

Caesarius was wearing a gold, heavyset ring set with the blackest stone I’d ever seen.

“It has not reemerged, it doesn’t seem she can create permanent ones.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

“We must act quickly before she can.”

Everything suddenly connected. Cradled tightly in my hands I glanced down to the matching item I now held. Then back to Caesarius, the man, whom when I’d met, I knew I’d seen somewhere before.

“Now, moving onto your report about Grahame…”

The room at the SPCC began to fade as my hands shook, taking Leofstan with it before I could even try to warn him. Of course, I hadn’t recognised Caesarius, because I’d never met him before in my life.

Yet I had seen him.

And the reason I didn’t know what stone was set in the ring is because it wasn’t a stone at all.

It was a scale as black as night.

And it belonged to the only other dragon I’d ever seen.

Caesarius, head of the SPCC, and the killer of Leofstan’s family.

A/n:

Again, thank you for reading Dangerous, Diabolical. Your support has meant the world to me and keeps me motivated to write. Book two will begin posting over summer in the UK, as I'll have a bit more time to dedicate to spotting typos!

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