Page 33 of Dragon Prince of New York

“You can’t go back alone.” Jethro walks me back to the table to get my purse. By then, Damian, the man he sent to make sure Kyro left, walks back into the club and Jethro motions him over.

“It’s taken care of,” Damian says.

“And Violeta’s in the air?”

Damian nods. Whatever that means.

“Alright, Finley would like to retire. Accompany her home.” He hands Damian his keys. “You can take my car.”

Damian motions for me to go ahead of him. We make our way out of the club together. The noise of music fades behind the door, replaced with the standard noises of a New York street. It’s late, the street dark, and I’m glad now that I don’t have to go back to the apartment alone.

Damian has a kind look about him. He’s wearing a t-shirt that says Close the Orgasm Gap, and his hair is a little messy. It gives him the look of a college student who just rolled out ofbed. But he’s got enough muscle to do some serious damage in a fight, and the way he acted when he and Jethro were confronting Kyro makes me think that he’s got some training he hides behind the boyish charm.

“So are you Midas’s security or bodyguard or something?”

“Something like that.”

“Just so you know, I can take care of myself. I’ve done it for a while.”

“I don’t doubt it, but you know how Cyrus can get.” Damian holds open the passenger side door for me, and I slide into the car, buckling up while he goes around to get in the driver's side.

“Actually, I don’t know how Cyrus can get. Not really.” The man is like a shifting shadow. Sometimes he seems sharp and clear, but other times hazy. Sometimes close, other times a million miles away.

“Oh.” Damian’s brows furrow. “I thought you were… together. He hasn’t… um… well…” His cheeks are impossibly red. “I thought since he hasn’t sought me out he was—”

“Wait, were you and Cyrus together?”

“Not officially.” He stops at a red light and looks over at me. “Casual. You know?”

“Yeah, I know.” The bitterness in my voice isn’t hidden, but thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.

Chapter 18

Cyrus

After saying prayers withthe horde, I take to the air. The High Temple and hatching grounds are three hours away as the dragon flies. But I push hard and make it in two and a half.

Swooping down through the cleft in the mountain that leads to the sacred grounds, I narrow my wings and let myself fall fast. The wind whips my face, both punishing and refreshing. The volcanic rock cuts down to a platform where two priests guard massive doors engraved with an image of the first dragon.

I land gracefully in front of them.

“Who is it you seek?” They speak in unison.

Shifting back to my human form, I answer, “Midas Ra and Jeslyn Ra’a. Where are they?”

“In the hot springs.” The guards share a look, and step to the sides, opening the doors.

I’m familiar with the layout of the High Temple from the yearly gatherings hosted here in celebration of the Goddess. But I’ve never had reason to go to the hatching grounds or the hot springs where women are taken just before delivery.

There are many legends about the pools. The priests say that they were made from the goddess’s tears and have healing properties. I hope so. For Jeslyn’s sake, I hope the pools are fucking magic.

I jog through the corridors, down the steps, deeper and deeper into the mountain. Hot air is the first thing that greets me when I reach the hatching grounds. The next is the sound of a feminine yell. It sounds so similar to Finley’s scream earlier, but this one is full of pain rather than frustration. I run full speed down another twisting stair to the hot springs.

Jeslyn is in the closest pool with Midas on the outside, kneeling. Three priests line the outer edges of the pool, chanting rhythmically in the language of the goddess.

“Shift, Ra’a,” Midas commands, the desperation nearly unbearable. “Shift, damn it!”

“Midas.” She reaches up to touch his face, tears shining in her fiery eyes. “I want to obey, Ra. You know I want to. But this—” Her voice cracks. Her face contorts inpain and another scream rips out of her.

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