Constantine smiled, slipped his arm around the Troll’s waist and gave her a wet kiss on the cheek before continuing. “What we’ve discussed regarding female Wizards must remain between us. Not everyone on the Grey Council understands the ramifications of female Wizards living longer.” He stood. “Do we understand each other?”
“Perfectly.”
Chapter Four
Twenty minutes later, Rowan reached the estate owned by the Grey Council and operated as a school for apprentice female and male Wizards. Trees and dense foliage flanked the winding mile-long road and were decorated with hanging crystals, white lights, and strands of pearls. Each night there would be a fire on the shore lit by nine Fire Wizards, weapons dedicated, and new Wizards initiated. The real reason Wizards turned out in record numbers was because it was a sanctioned orgy where they could indulge in their wildest sexual fantasies. The place would be packed.
When he was younger, he’d never missed one. Now, he avoided them like swimming with sharks and commitments. It was one thing to say you weren’t going to get emotionally involved with the female you mated with at the festival and another to keep your promise. Female Wizards had a way of getting under a man’s skin. He didn’t know if it was a result of the spells they cast, the brand they sometimes bestowed after lovemaking, or that they were the most mind-blowing, sexually creative and intelligent women ever created. Being here was also dangerous to a man’s health. Jealousy and bloodshed were as common as naked bodies.
The limo drove through the gate and parked on the perimeter of a large practice field resembling a medieval movie set. Male Wizards were shooting arrows at defenseless straw dummies, engaged in hand-to-hand combat or brandishing broadswords. He figured the jousting matches and the event where Wizards rescued virgins from a tower were on tomorrow’s program.
The limo driver who opened Rowan’s door was a young male Wizard not yet qualified to participate in the festival. Rowan could tell by the lack of tattoos on his right hand and around his neck. The thick black Celtic symbols covered Rowan’sback, shoulders, and right arm. The honor of participating in the festival was reserved for Wizards who’d achieved all seven degrees. Reaching the last degree could take years and was marked by the corresponding tattoo representing the degree achieved. Many never made it through the rigorous tests or survived tattoos more painful than a brand. The one on Rowan’s back signified the degree, Master of Combat, and still burned from time to time. He didn’t know if it was the tattoo or the circumstances that caused the discomfort.
Rowan had attended several festivals scattered around the globe, but this was his first time here. The estate had the feel of a European castle, replicated down to the smallest detail, complete with turrets, towers, moat, drawbridge, and a tiered garden flowing down to the shore. The stones looked ancient. Most likely a castle or manor house had been dismantled and rebuilt on the island.
Loud shouts cut through the air as a handful of Wizards cheered their victory over those they defeated. Rowan caught a glimpse of a familiar face. In the middle of the courtyard was his brother. Stryker fought two men at a time and, no surprise to anyone, Stryker was winning. A deadly opponent, Stryker was a man you wanted on your side, not fighting against you.
Stryker and Rowan were the same height and built, but Stryker’s skin was darker. Although they’d had the same mother, they’d had different fathers. He and Stryker had achieved the seventh degree in record time. Capturing a dragon had placed their apprenticeship on the fast track to full Wizardry. Rowan and Stryker were dubbed the Dragon Brothers, a title Rowan suspected his brother took too seriously. Sometime later they learned that the dragon had disappeared, and to this day no one knew what had happened.
When Stryker saw Rowan, he ended the contest quickly, disarmed the men, sheathed his sword and jogged over. Heclapped Rowan’s hand and arm in a two-handed greeting. “Thought you didn’t attend these anymore.”
“I’m here on business, not pleasure.”
“Lucky you. I’d rather face a horde of man-eating goblins, but the pull of Bealtaine was too strong this year for some reason.”
Rowan laughed and pulled his brother into a warm embrace. Stryker was the only family he had left. He drew back, basking for a moment in the knowledge that their bond was strong. It was the one constant in his life. Rowan would give his life to protect his brother and knew Stryker would do the same.
A chorus of apprentice female Wizards walked by giggling. Stryker winked at them, causing the young women to blush and hurry away. Rowan kept his hands in his pockets, watching the exchange. Stryker was outgoing, friendly and a man you’d follow into the depths of Hades, but he fought the same demons as Rowan. Stryker just did a better job of keeping them hidden. They both blamed themselves for their mother and younger brother’s disappearance and everything bad that came after.
Stryker turned toward Rowan, his smile frozen in place. As usual, the emotion never reached his eyes. “If you do stay, remember that once here few can resist the pull of Blood Passion. It’s both the reward and the curse of being a male Wizard. A seductive woman chooses you for the express purpose of having sex and all you must do is remember to say thank you, treat her respectfully, and not kill anyone.”
His brother had alluded to the dark side of Bealtaine. Male Wizards became obsessed with possessing a female Wizard. Women did the choosing, but if a male Wizard felt slighted, people died.
Rowan looked away. “It won’t happen this time.”
“Hope so.”
****
Rowan entered the mahogany-paneled reception area of the castle decorated with both reproduction and authentic medieval antiques. There were two life-size mannequins dressed in full suits of armor dating back to the First Crusade. The only thing spoiling the effect, as far as Rowan was concerned, was the hum of computers and the conversational buzz of a half dozen office workers dressed in business grey.
Stryker’s eyes grew darker than onyx. “This is as far as I go. Fraternizing with authority isn’t my style. I prefer to run the show, not be run over by it.”
“My brother. The philosopher.”
Stryker shrugged. “Must be this place. It brings out my inner dragon. See you around.”
And he was gone.
Bothered by his brother’s comments, Rowan silently nodded his thanks to the unsmiling human receptionist who led him down a corridor to the Grand Vizier’s office. Stryker had never been the same after they’d captured the dragon. A few years later, his brother claimed he’d discovered a dragon’s lair like the one they’d found when they were boys. Just like the earlier incident, his brother had spared the dragon eggs and refused to disclose its location. Rowan shuddered as the recurring fear flashed around him.
The rule was to kill dragons on sight. Period. The rule was in place for a reason. There was a real possibility his brother had been infected by an ancient form of madness and obsession associated with dragons. But that was only part of it. If the infection ran deep, it could awaken the dormant dragon gene and turn a Wizardintoa dragon.
Rowan tried to shake his apprehension as he entered the Grand Vizier’s office. But it clung to him and wouldn’t let go. Wizards had a rich legacy of legends and myths. Some were true,most were little more than creative bedtime stories. The ones involving dragons were somewhere in between.
A man with an easy smile and the look of a body builder entered from a side door. “Rowan. You’re a sight for these tired eyes, old friend.” He paused to sign a few papers his secretary handed to him.
The man was Vlad, the Grand Vizier, head of all the Wizards, undisputed king of the magical community, chair of the Grey Council and with an ego as big as his biceps. They’d met when they were apprentice Wizards. Vlad’s name was William then, and he was learning how to control the power of earth elements, just as Rowan was with fire. William had changed his name to Vlad when he was elected to the Council, despite protests from the vampires. Or maybe it was because of them. No one took vampires seriously these days, so their concerns were ignored. It was the one-time Rowan agreed with vamps, and not just about the name change. Vlad couldn’t be trusted.
