Page 2 of The Dragon's Warlock

“I gave years of my life to the council.” Gideon’s eyes blazed green, and purple magic sparked from his fingers.

She never knew when to keep her mouth shut. He’d served on the council for years and claimed he was retiring because he’d served long enough and it was someone else’s turn. But she wondered if there was another reason for him retiring. “I’m sorry.” She let out a sigh. “Kayda is the only family I have left, and my dragon only trusts you.”

“Are you sure you want to know what happened to her?”

“I know she’s still alive. We’re twins, and the connection is still there.” Growing up, she could always sense when her sister was hurt or sad. Nobody believed she could feel these things, but she knew Gideon would understand. When she was in foster care, she’d been made fun of when she tried to explain the connection between her and Kayda.

“That connection you have with your sense is one reason they chose you. Not everyone can tap into that. But it doesn’t mean I want to go on a mission with someone who doesn’t understand the supernatural world.”

Diem’s blood boiled. “I wasn’t given a choice about being part of this world. And after my transformation, they didn’t give me a Dragons for Dummies book. Nope. I was sent on missions and told to grab people, and if I didn’t listen, I was shocked. Not the shock you get from the carpet. This hurt worse than a cattle prod.” The second foster family she’d lived with had used cattle prods for discipline.

“You’re right.”

She blinked a couple of times. He’d agreed with her. Maybe she was starting to sway him to help her. “So you’ll help?”

“What have you figured out so far? I don’t remember much from when I was controlled, so I don’t have the laboratory’s locations.” He downed the rest of his scotch.

In the files she’d hacked, she’d read that Gideon had undergone tests to figure out what he couldn’t remember. A person by the name of Talia had touched him and tried to dig out his memories, but his mind had been blank.

“But you know how this world works?” she asked.

“Just because I’m the oldest warlock doesn’t mean I know everything.” He frowned at his empty glass. The bottle vanished from the bar and reappeared in his hand.

“How old are you?” Every chance Diem got, she devoured information on Gideon. She hadn’t found much.

He narrowed his eyes. “That’s personal.”

“I’m thirty-three. Before Kael’s men kidnapped me, I worked as an airline pilot. Now my dragon hates being in airplanes. I tried to go back to my life. I wasn’t trying to be rude by asking your age.”

“Most supernatural creatures don’t enjoy plane rides,” he replied, still not answering her original question. She wanted to know how his magic worked and what made him happy—she had yet to see a smile cross his face. Even when he’d been controlled, he never smiled. It seemed he’d had a permanent frown since the day she first saw him. Back then, his eyes had never flashed green, and his skin had been sickly pale.

“You’re a very frustrating person to talk to. I’ll do anything to find my sister, even if that means coming to your house and begging. If you want to help me, tell me who in the community I can get to help look for her.” Even though she could change into a dragon, the supernatural world still scared her. She didn’t understand the things her dragon demanded.

“Beg? All you’ve done is demand I help you.”

Her pride always stopped her from getting on her knees and begging. She’d never asked for food when her foster parents told her she couldn’t have any until she finished cleaning the house. She’d never begged for a ride home even when it was pouring rain. Instead, she’d held her coat over her sister's head, and they’d walked home in the freezing shower.

“If I got on my knees and begged, would you help me?” she asked.

His eyes flashed. “Diem, if you get on your knees, it won’t be to beg.”

“And what would I be doing?” Her face turned hot.

He shook his head. “Let’s discuss where she might be.”

And the flirty side of Gideon was gone in a blink of an eye, his scowl back in place.

“There is a psychic in Florida who can help find people,” she said.

He scowled. “Emma?”

“Yes!” She bounced on the edge of her seat. “Do you know her? I’ve tried to contact her, but she won’t answer my calls.”

“Of course I know who she is. What are you planning on doing—showing up on her doorstep, similar to what you did today?”

“If you think it will work.” She shrugged.

“Emma is part fairy. You need to bring a special trinket for the fairy garden.”

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