He looked at Morgan over the rim of his glasses. “I was being serious. In case you hadn’t noticed, my brother disappeared in plain sight, which confirms my suspicions. He’s a shapeshifting dragon.”
AJ clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening into twin orbs of fear.
“We have to trust that we will get through this,” Morgan said.
Rowan leaned against the window, searching the street below. His laugh was hollow. “Trust is the reason we’re in this mess.”
Morgan reached for AJ’s hands. She glanced at Rowan over her shoulders and glared at him. “Let me handle this.” She drew AJ over to the sofa and motioned for the young woman to sit beside her. “Everything your father told you was true. Rowan is being dramatic, but it might be best if you and your father left Seattle for a while. We are trying to find a way to avert it, but we believe there is a war coming between the magical community and those humans who want to eliminate people like us who have certain…abilities.”
AJ rubbed her temples as though struggling to understand the unexplainable. “Like the ability to shapeshift into a dragon.”
“Precisely. Although until just minutes ago, none of us believed that was still possible. We believed dragons were extinct.”
Rowan focused on the view from the window, watching a ferryboat pull out into the open water on its journey to one of the islands in the San Juans. Dragons were the least of his worries. The clues had been right in front of him the whole time. The fact a Wizard’s eyes were removed, why female Wizards had felt the urgency to run, taking the Wizardlings with them, all played on his guilt. Then there was the ease with which the poison had killed the Wizards at the restaurant. Some detective he’d turned out to be. If he had been doing his job, his brother might still be a Wizard instead of something in between. “If you tell anyone what you’ve just witnessed, you will be killed.”
“Rowan, stop it. You’re frightening her.” Morgan smoothed the hair off AJ’s forehead. “What Mr. Tact is trying to say is that what you’ve seen and what we’re talking about is very serious. The knowledge might put you in danger. The old saying‘Ignorance is bliss’ applies. We can call your father, and you can go about your day.”
AJ shook her head, leaning forward. “No, I want to know all of it. You said there are humans involved who are trying to hurt your kind. Let my father and me be the humans who are helping you.”
Rowan narrowed his gaze. “You’re like your father. You don’t back down from a fight. No wonder he was worried about you. Well, the first thing a Wizard learns is that Oculist stones from Atlantis can kill us. There is no known antidote. What happened to Stryker is something else. Dragons are immune to the Oculist stones’ fatal blue powder. I still don’t understand why he shapeshifted, but I am grateful he did. His connection to dragons probably saved his life.”
He took a deep breath, tamping down a growing fear of his own. He and his brother had used whatever spare time they had exploring old dragon caves. Partly because it was a fun pastime, but mostly because they’d overheard their father say their mother was descended from dragons. Did that mean he might end up like his brother? A man but caught between two worlds?
AJ took the cup of coffee Morgan offered and gave her a nod of thanks. “Remember my saying that my friend thought her sister Daffeny and her sister’s boyfriend were murdered? She believed there was a connection to a warehouse on the wharf.”
“We were going to check it out, but haven’t had time yet,” Rowan said. “Didn’t you mention that you took a job there to investigate if your friend was correct about the murders? Your father was really steamed.”
She took another sip of coffee. “Yes, and yes. The stones you describe look like the ones at the warehouse. Just saying.”
Rowan pushed away from the window. This was the first good news he’d had in days. “How soon can you get me into your boss’s warehouse?”
Chapter Thirty
In the Talons’ copper-domed headquarters on the island, Vlad paced in the chrome-and-steel waiting area. The Talons and the Grey Council had called an emergency meeting. This was the third since the Bealtaine debacle. The female Wizards who remained on the island had offered suggestions for where their sister Wizards had taken the Wizardlings, and to no one’s surprise, the clues were dead ends.
Vlad had wanted to use more persuasive methods of questioning, but the women were being watched too closely by male Wizards who would rebel if so much as a hair on any of their heads was ruffled. At present, the only options left to him were asking the Air Wizards and the Talons for assistance. As soon as the female Wizards were found and he’d consolidated power, he would deal with those who’d defied him.
Rowan was at the top of his list. He was becoming a problem. Something had happened at Bealtaine, something that changed Rowan’s focus.
Until recently, Rowan had always been loyal to the Grey Council. Which was the reason he had wanted Rowan to be his eyes and ears, and report to him on the findings regarding the murders. In that way Vlad believed he could control the narrative. Then the idiot Constantine had to go and order that his people poison Rowan’s brother. Fools.
Yes, things were getting out of control, but the Talons’ miscalculation might prove to his advantage. With the Grey Council and the magical community both in a panic, Vlad would present evidence that Constantine and Zacharias were behind the ethnic cleansing and toss the humans literally to the wolves. Until then, he had to appear to cooperate with Constantine and the Talons for just a little while longer.
He glanced at the digital time on the wall, annoyed that he’d arrived early. When he was in charge, he’d make others wait for him.Be patient. Your time will come, he told himself. To quiet his nerves, Vlad looked through the locked glass doors toward the conference room. The chamber was circular, with a private waiting room for each member of the Talons and the Grey Council. In the center was a massive round wooden table, who some claimed was used by King Arthur and his legendary knights. He didn’t believe the story. Most likely the table was a reproduction. It didn’t matter. The round table was a strong symbol and reinforced their ideals.
Vlad shared his colleagues’ belief in honoring the old ways. Five hundred years ago, when the alliance between the Talons and the Grey Council was created, it drew upon the themes of Camelot to create a better world. Those goals were needed now more than ever. King Arthur wouldn’t have hesitated to eliminate those who threatened his kingdom, and neither would he. In his opinion, the world had reached a critical turning point. Self-proclaimed human mages spoke of things like Armageddon, the Rapture, and End Times. The visionaries were not that far off in their predictions, just in identifying the person who would save their kind from extinction.
At twelve, the glass doors in Vlad’s waiting room opened simultaneously with the corresponding waiting room doors. Members of the Talons and the Grey Council filed into the conference room and took their seats at the round table. There were seven members of the Talons, representing the original seven founding families. One member represented the magical community, and the Grey Council was made up of a representative from each of the Wizard clans of Fire, Air and Earth. The chair for Water was vacant and would remain so. Two honorary, non-voting members were Danu of the Waters, and Old Man, who were the keepers of their history.
When Caitlin, the female Water Wizard died, and with Danu of the Waters missing, the Council had decided it was best to leave the positions vacant until replacements were announced. In Vlad’s opinion, running the world was a man’s business anyway. The remaining seat was reserved for Old Man, the keeper of their history.
Vlad took his place beside Constantine, who greeted each member in turn before addressing the business at hand. “War, when properly supervised,” he began, “has its purpose. It cleanses much like a controlled field fire at the end of planting season. But when allowed to rage unattended, its destruction far outreaches its benefits. It’s time we step in and extinguish the world’s flames.” He distributed black folders to each of the members and then waited for each man to open and glance at the contents.
Constantine placed the palms of his hands on the ancient wood of the round table and leaned forward as he continued, “The way human nations run their wars hasn’t changed over the centuries. In the past, to bring order out of chaos we often simply assassinated their leaders, and the will of the people would collapse. In other instances, it was necessary to take out key politicians or generals, which achieved the same result. I propose that we renew that strategy.” He paused to let everyone open the files before continuing. “Are there any questions?”
Connor O’Hara, a shapeshifting werewolf with silver hair and eyes, and the representative for the magical community, was the first to speak. “President Constantine, with all due respect, I disagree with your proposal to order killing the world’s leaders. Need I remind you that not only will you be murdering human leaders, but there are also members of the magical community who hold high office. “Diplomacy is needed. Not murder.”
The president waved away Connor’s question as though it was not important. “Humans have no taste for diplomacy, andif I may be so bold, neither do certain members of the magical community. If there are no further questions, we will vote.”
