Kiss of Light (The Forsaken Chronicles Book 3) Read online

She jogged across the lawn, not bothering to hide, which meant she wasn’t too surprised when a shaggy form bounded by her side.

  Logan must have been watching and waiting.

  “I don’t need help,” she muttered.

  A reply wasn’t forthcoming. Wolves didn’t talk much.

  “They might not allow you passage where I’m going.”

  Didn’t slow his trot one bit.

  “Don’t get in my way.” Because she no longer let anyone fight her battles for her.

  As for her destination? She had a meeting with a dragon. The same one who’d swallowed Mammon, as a matter of fact, Mammon being Desmond’s half-brother. The half-demon who’d kidnapped and tortured her just to punish Desmond. The universe was a better place without him in it. Although, she did wish she’d gotten a chance to return some of the torture he’d inflicted. She could only hope being digested by a dragon and shat back out was the ultimate punishment.

  The chain-link fence around the property with its barbed wire at the top didn’t slow Adara down. She’d cut a hole in it a while ago. She held it open for Logan to slip through, and a frisson went through her as she passed the magical wards guarding this place. Someone would inform Titus that she’d left.

  Not that it would do much good. At just past four o’clock in the afternoon, daylight reigned, which meant the vampire would have to wait.

  A fascinating dilemma. With all the new knowledge Adara had acquired, vampires were still a relative unknown. Heard of and even depicted in certain images, the bogeymen of stories. But no one expected them to be real. Animal shifters on the other hand… They usually kept to themselves, not even conducting trade with the other planes. They preferred a more natural way of life.

  Just more useless facts she could recall. But forget remembering her age.

  I am… Somewhere in her twenties? Perhaps older, depending on how long she’d been missing. She recalled having birthdays, or in her case found-in-a-basket-on-the-steps days. The king always hosted a dinner and a hunt in her honor.

  A wet nose nudged her hand, drawing her from her reveries. The headlights of an approaching vehicle drew her attention.

  The dragon had sent a car, which slowed down before stopping at the curb. The moment the passenger door opened, Logan bounded in. Adara followed and sat on the comfortable leather seat. The driver didn’t say a word, just stared straight ahead, his dark cap sitting atop his bald head. She could see the hint of a tattoo starting from his neck and then disappearing past the collar of his shirt. A bonded servant. Which meant he’d gouge out his own eyes rather than spill any secrets.

  Given that her recollections had dragons as extinct, she’d read up on them since meeting one. Titus actually had an entire shelf dedicated to them. Adara had learned that they weren’t as plentiful as in the olden days, but weren’t quite extinct. Most of the drakes had been hunted almost to extinction, and the females were lucky if they laid an egg even once a century. Luckier still if it hatched.

  Those that did still exist were reclusive…and rich. They tended to be the silent owners behind large corporations. Their whims either sent the stock markets to soaring heights or crashing depths. Something a particular author seemed in awe of, even as Adara didn’t understand what stock markets were. Logan had laughed when she asked if it was only for cattle or if horses were included, too.

  The most luxurious hotels in the world belonged to dragons and were considered neutral zones. As in, don’t do anything stupid to piss one off.

  Mammon had either thought himself above such rules or didn’t know about the dragons. He’d ignored the hotel directives and brought violence to a dragon-owned establishment. He paid the price with his life.

  And now Adara was going to have a chat with that dragon.

  I wonder if I should have brought a gift. Then again, what did one bring to someone who owned it all?

  Tatsuo Nakamura was considered the richest woman in the world. Known to be ruthless, sparing no quarter to those who crossed her.

  Hopefully, Adara wouldn’t get eaten for asking too many questions.

  Logan stuck his head—a big shaggy thing with long strands that should have been coarse but were soft and silky—in Adara’s lap. She petted him idly while staring out the window.

  The meeting with the dragon had been a sudden idea, and one she didn’t believe would actually occur. Adara had called and left a message.

  “Hi, my name is Adara. This message is for Ms. Nakamura. I wanted to say thanks for taking care of Mammon. I don’t suppose we could meet.”

  Imagine her surprise when the secretary for the ancient being contacted her. “A car will fetch you at exactly four fifteen p.m. tomorrow.”

  Titus would be annoyed, mostly because the appointment was for the supper hour, which meant daylight. Interestingly enough, not all the legends about vampires were true. Crosses didn’t make them flinch. Holy water didn’t burn holes in their skin. However, direct sunlight could hurt a vampire and reduce him to ash if exposed too long. She’d done her study on the Earth beliefs by watching movies and reading books. Most of which Titus shook his head at while Logan snorted, “Most of those stories are only fit to wipe our arses with.”

  In other words, garbage. How much of what Adara had read about dragons would prove to be false, as well?

  Arriving at the hotel, she exited the car the moment it stopped, not waiting for the driver to open the door. Logan emerged right on her heels.

  Having been here before, the massive and elegant building didn’t inspire awe, not with her memories of Babylonia showing her how trivial it appeared in comparison.

  The doorman for the posh hotel, dressed in red and gold livery, didn’t even blink at her arrival with her oversized canine. He did, however, hand her a collar and a leash.

  “What’s this for?” she asked.

  “Safety regulations stipulate all pets must be on a leash at all times. We have a muzzle, too, should your dog prove aggressive.”

  A smile curved her lips. “Give me a second while I put it on him.” She turned to Logan, still grinning. He didn’t look as impressed and shook his shaggy head.

  “If you want to come inside then be a good doggy,” she crooned.

  With a sigh, he dipped his head and allowed her to pull the chain collar over it and then attach the leash.

  The doorman had one more piece of advice. “If anyone says something, claim it’s your support animal.”

  Not entirely inaccurate. Logan did support her. He came to her rescue. Offered her a sparring partner who didn’t get mad no matter how many times she took him down hard on the grass. Where they differed, was the next level he wanted to take their relationship.

  They’d marked each other, bound themselves together. While for Logan he’d done it out of true affection for Adara, she could admit, to herself at least, that she’d done it to spite Desmond.

  And it worked. She still recalled the look of shock and hurt when she chose to deny him and claim not only the werewolf but the vampire, too.

  Problem was, having marked them, they now expected things of her. Carnal things. Given what had happened with Mammon, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to be touched by another person again without reliving the nightmare. The leering face as it stood over her, doing its best to cause as much pain as possible. The teeth as they gnawed on her flesh.

  She shivered and froze for a moment as a wave of memories washed over her, screaming at her that she was unclean. Impure.

  Forsaken.

  A tug at the leash dragged her forward, and she stumbled after Logan. Shoved the ugly past back into a dark corner of her mind.

  She’d survived. But those who’d had a hand in her torture…she wanted their names, and the dragon might be able to help her.

  The hotel lobby proved as posh as she remembered, all white marble, golden gilt, and soft instrumental music piped in via hidden speakers to keep the vast room from echoing. Only a few people lounged in the seating area off to the
side. Every single one of them looked at her as she walked past with her wolf on a leash. Most probably assumed him some kind of King Shepherd mix. People ever did go for the easiest explanation because the truth might just explode their minds.

  She wondered how many of them knew the secret of this hotel, of the dragon owner. It wasn’t as if it were advertised. The logo was a pair of initials, TN bound in a circle. There weren’t any dragon-monogrammed towels or gift shops selling stuffies of winged reptiles spitting flames.

  Yet walking into the hotel, Adara felt the difference. A tingle of her senses. A warning frisson that left the hairs on her body standing at attention.

  Danger.

  The fellow behind the front desk had a bright smile to match his slick hair with its neat part.

  “Hello, you must be Adara.”

  She almost corrected him with the name Erela. Almost. That name belonged to someone else.

  How long will I keep denying who I am?

  “I’m here to meet Ms. Nakamura.”

  “Of course.” He snapped his fingers in the air. A woman slouching behind a column snapped to attention, her golden ensemble of a blouse tucked into a pencil skirt showcasing her slender figure. “Erika, please take our guest to the penthouse.”

  Only the best for the owner.

  Of interest to Adara was the way Erika didn’t once glance at the wolf by her side. But when they entered the elevator, she didn’t bother to hide her interest in Adara.

  “You’re the one the demons have been looking for.”

  “Not anymore.” With Mammon’s death, the interest waned.

  “Don’t be so sure of that. Just last night, someone came to the front desk asking about you—and that evening.”

  That evening being the one where, holed up in the hotel, Mammon had found her. Dragged her to the rooftop and almost won the day. He’d brought a legion of demons. More than she and her allies could fight alone.

  “Who was it?” Adara asked.

  Erika shrugged. “No idea. They wore a hooded cloak and kept themselves shielded. Unlike you.” The comment dripped with disdain. “You should try hiding your magic. It’s distracting.”

  Hide her magic? Adara frowned as she looked down at herself. Did she glow and not notice? “I don’t understand. I don’t have magic.” Only a sword that appeared when she called it.

  “You can’t be serious.” Incredulity marked Erika’s statement.

  “I don’t have magic,” Adara reiterated.

  “And I thought the humans were blind,” Erika muttered. “We’re here.”

  The elevator opened onto a vestibule, every inch covered in gold, the surfaces so smooth they acted as mirrors. A pair of double doors, hammered precious metal with strange glyphs, opened at their approach.

  Adara might have gaped as they entered a white cavern, or so it seemed, with yawning ceilings at least three stories high, and glistening marble all around. The far wall was a bank of windows, letting in the last of the setting sun’s rays. There was very little furniture in the space, but a swinging perch did hang from the ceiling. It reminded her of a bird cage without the bars.

  “Thank you, Erika. You are excused.” The words, hinting of a slight accent, echoed softly around them, and yet no one appeared.

  With a short bow, the woman left, the doors shutting behind her without hands to push them.

  Adara hadn’t realized she’d dropped the leash and fisted Logan’s fur instead. There was power in this place. So much of it. It tickled her skin. Rippled across her flesh, leaving behind unease and awe. Wonder tinged with curiosity.

  “Hello?” She’d yet to see the person who spoke. The voice, while low, was very feminine in nature. “Is that you, Ms. Nakamura?”

  “Over here, by the sofa.”

  A turn of her head to the left and Adara saw a single couch and a coffee table overlooking the city.

  It took the term minimalistic to new levels.

  Her steps sounded inordinately loud in the empty space, and her unease grew as she’d yet to see the owner of the penthouse.

  Logan trotted by her side, leash trailing on the floor. Unbothered in the least.

  As Adara reached the couch, a new order arrived. “Sit.”

  Since there was no point in arguing, Adara seated herself just in time to see the last purple and orange rays of the setting sun.

  Gorgeous. But not why she’d come.

  “I’m—”

  “I know who you are.” The voice came from her left, and a sharp turn of her head finally found the speaker.

  An Asian woman gazed upon her, her features smooth, her hair long and dark and tumbling past her hips. She wore a silken kimono, gold in color, trimmed with characters in black. She glided closer, her feet hidden by the hem of her robe, her hands likewise tucked in her sleeves.

  Ms. Nakamura was quite beautiful, appearing in her thirties, and yet Adara knew for a fact that she must be much older.

  “Do you know me as Adara or Erela?”

  The woman shook her head. “Neither of those are your name, Forsaken One.”

  Adara flinched. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Why not? It is what you are. What you became.”

  “It is not who I am.”

  “And who are you?” Ms. Nakamura leaned closer, staring, the irises of her eyes vertical slits that swirled with a maelstrom of colors.

  “I am…” For a moment, words failed Adara. She was nothing. A nobody. A broken shell of herself. A woman without a past and with a shaky future.

  Pitiful. And not the person she wanted to be.

  Adara’s spine straightened. “I am looking for vengeance on those who betrayed me.”

  “A better answer and yet, looking at you, I can see you’re not ready.”

  “Not ready?” Her reply held indignation. “I remember how to fight.”

  “With your hands, maybe.”

  “I have my sword.” Adara extended her hand, and the blade appeared at her call, a length of steel that always fit comfortably and sliced with ease.

  “Paltry tools against those you would kill.”

  “And what would you suggest I use instead? I’ve heard the military isn’t keen on loaning out their grenade launchers and tanks.” The sarcasm rolled off her tongue.

  “Those wouldn’t work where you need to go. Technology is a product of Earth, following the rules of nature unique for this place. Where you must travel, only magic will aid you.”

  “I don’t have magic.”

  The answering tinkling laughter shivered across Adara’s skin. “Silly girl. Of course, you have magic. It is leaking from every pore of your body. No wonder you were hidden. It is a beacon to those who would eat it all up. So much power, even more ignorance.”

  “Teach me.” Not exactly what Adara had planned to ask, then again, the idea that she could do magic proved unexpected.

  “Impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “I am not a teacher.”

  “Maybe not, but you obviously know how to wield magic.” Adara swept a hand. “I can feel it imbuing this place. Protecting you from prying eyes.”

  “The fact you can sense it is a start. But even I am not so foolish as to provide aid to a Forsaken One.”

  Every time Adara found someone with knowledge, they trotted out the same reply. It frustrated her, especially since she didn’t understand how they knew. “How do you even know I’m Forsaken? Was there some kind of news bulletin that went out with a picture? Billboards saying ‘hey don’t help this girl?’” The words emerged bitter.

  “It is marked on your skin. Have you not seen…? Obviously, you haven’t. Look.” With a snap of her fingers, Nakamura conjured a mirror and held it up.

  At first, Adara only saw her reflection. She opened her mouth to say something disparaging, only to clamp it shut as her forehead started to shine, the lines of a symbol forming. The circle with the lion within familiar.

  She raised her fingers to touch, expectin
g to feel a ridge, something, and yet while she saw her fingers trailing over skin, there was nothing to indicate the mark there.

  She tucked her hand in her lap. “More magic.”

  “A magic that has been tampered with,” said Nakamura, the mirror disappearing, and her hands tucking back into her sleeves. “The Forsaken aren’t supposed to remember. It is part of their punishment.”

  “And why was I punished?” Desmond seemed to think it was because of their trysts. If that were true, why did no one banish him?

  “It doesn’t matter, and I don’t care. Dragons do not get involved in the affairs of others.”

  “You ate Mammon to save me.”

  Nakamura shook her head, her silken hair swinging like a curtain. “Correction, I ate him because he broke the rules of my house.”

  “You agreed to meet me.”

  “Curiosity is ever our downfall. You are an interesting thing, Forsaken One. Rather than gliding through your banishment unnoticed, chaos trails in your wake.”

  “And that is my fault how?” Adara snapped.

  “Because you are one of the focal points of fate. A rare thing to behold.”

  “What does that mean?” Adara asked.

  “It means that the things you do have repercussions not only for yourself but a great many. I’ve only met two others such as you in my entire life.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “In the end, they died because worlds were forever changed where they tread. Lives were destroyed.” An image formed between them of a city on fire.

  “I’m not looking to destroy or kill.”

  “What you want doesn’t matter. You exist. It will happen.”

  “That’s not a reason to punish me.”

  Laughter tinkled again, melodic as tiny bells. “Who says reason has anything to do with it? Fear, though...” Lips split to reveal a rapier grin. “Fear makes a great many do things they otherwise wouldn’t. Some would say the fearful acts of some are the catalyst for events.”

  “I’m not looking to change the world.”

  “And yet you might.” The head cocked, the movement disjointed. “It would be easy to end you. You are weak. One single bite.” Teeth snapped.

  “Is that what you do to your enemies? Eat them?”