“Not quite,” Davina said. “While many of those original villagers were thrown into the gladiatorial ring to fight for their lives, others were used for another purpose—being bred with other supernaturals the Romans had captured in order to produce the perfect fighter for the games. I have no idea how they did it or how long it took, but at some point prior to the fall of Rome, they created the Balauri, also known as the dragons of Rome. They’re strong, fast, and aggressive, and they have nearly impervious skin.”
“Dragons?” Hale echoed. “You mean the scales we could barely make out on these guys come from real dragons?”
“If you mean aGame of Throneskind of dragon,probably not,” Davina said. “But there are several vaguely humanoid dragon-like creatures out there with scales. Any of them could have been involved in the breeding. Regardless, when Rome collapsed, the surviving Balauri scattered. They quickly learned that while there was no one around to force them to fight any longer, the instincts bred into them—mainly that overwhelming need to hunt and kill—couldn’t be ignored. Apparently those same instincts still exist in their descendants to this day, along with their other supernatural abilities.”
Gage crossed his arms over his chest. “So you’re saying these Balauri band together and travel the world looking for a good fight?”
Davina shrugged. “Pretty much. Even after all these centuries, the training instilled in their ancestors remains strong in the current generation. They yearn for the thrill of the gladiatorial game and are driven to look for worthy opponents. That explains all the mercenary work they’ve done. They’re searching for something to give their life meaning—the more dangerous the challenge, the better.”
“Crap,” Hale muttered. “This might sound out there, but what if that’s why Tamm and his buddies came to Dallas in the first place? For a band of killers looking for a good fight, we’d be too good of a target to pass up.”
Karissa considered that. Was Hale saying that he and his teammates were all supernaturals andwould therefore be able to give the Balauri the competition they were looking for? She longed to ask, but now wasn’t the time.
“That would explain why there’s no rhyme or reason to their attacks,” Mike said. “They don’t care about all the people they’ve been going after. They’re trying to get our attention and arrange opportunities to force a confrontation.”
Trey leaned back in his chair with a groan. “Okay, assuming you’re right about these guys, we need to figure out a better way to fight them. You might not have gotten the memo, Davina, but we were lucky to break even the last time we faced these dudes.”
“Do you know if they have any weaknesses?” Hale asked her.
The blue-haired witch let out a sigh. “No idea. I mean, they were bred to be invulnerable, you know? That’s why your claws don’t have an effect on them.”
Claws?
Wait. What?
Everyone kept asking questions about how to deal with the threat, but unfortunately, Davina didn’t have much more information for them than that.
“Since I’ve given you everything I have on the Balauri,” she said, “why don’t we turn our attention to Karissa so we can talk about what kind of supernatural she’s up against?”
“Good idea,” Gage said, pushing back his chair, then glancing at Karissa. “We’ll give you and Davina some privacy.”
Karissa wouldn’t have minded if they stayed, but everyone was already getting to their feet—including Hale. She was so used to hiding everything about her life that her first instinct was to do the same here.
But did she really want to do this on her own?
Chapter 15
As much as Hale wanted to stay, he stood to leave along with the rest of the guys. He was both surprised and relieved when Karissa grabbed his arm.
“I’d like you to stay,” she said, her green eyes imploring. “Please.”
He couldn’t deny the sensation of warmth that crept up through his stomach to settle deep into his chest at the request. As if he would ever say no to her.
“Of course,” he said, giving her a smile.
Hale caught Karissa glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as he sat down. She’d been doing that a lot since they’d gotten back to the SWAT compound, and it wasn’t that hard to understand why. He knew she’d been freaked out after seeing how injured he’d been in that fight earlier and couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t go to the hospital when she urged him to.
Her concern had faded over the past few hours, however, replaced by confusion as she’d watched his wounds heal right in front of her eyes. She hadn’t remarked on it or even asked him about it but, instead, continued to regard him with wonder. Even if she tried to hide it.
“Can you see the photo I’m sharing?” Davina asked, her image replaced on the big screen by a large portrait of a British guy dressed in a red military uniform. It looked like one of those fancy oil paintings in a museum from the time of the Revolutionary War.
“That’s him!” Karissa said, her hand coming up to grab Hale’s, squeezing tight. “That’s the guy I fought the other night who nearly killed me.”
Hale flinched. Nope. He still didn’t like hearing her say those words out loud.
Another portrait popped up on the screen, this time of a man in a dark jacket and a white shirt with the collar tips just showing above an equally dark ascot. It took a moment for Hale to realize that the man in the two paintings was the same guy. Not only that, but he appeared to be the exact same age even though the paintings had to be at least forty years apart—Revolutionary War and the Regency period.
“Oh, fudge,” Karissa murmured. “I don’t think I like where this is going.”
