Dragon Heartstring(40)

He opened his shirt to reveal the ghastly burn scars rippling the skin of his chest and torso and up the side of his neck. It had the effect he intended. Gasps erupted, and one woman stifled a scream. But, apparently, Aron thought my sister gutless.

Jessen stood and approached the council. “Permission to address the platform?”

Tennison waved a hand for her to move forward. Jessen stood away from Aron to the right of the bench.

“Aron Grayson is a liar. He was not defenseless when he suffered these wounds. As a matter of fact, he held a Volt gun pointed at my now husband and mate, Lucius Nightwing. I caught the voltage upon my shoulder that was intended to kill him.” Jessen slipped off her white cardigan sweater. Her sleeveless dress revealed the iridescent swirling pattern of her scar. “Shakara Icewing healed me that day, leaving behind this scar. She took away the pain of a wound created by the very weapon intended to kill my husband. Aron Grayson may say that we are not compatible, but he’s wrong. So very wrong. Take a look at my family.” She smiled at Lucius with Julian on his lap. Julian’s eyes grew round as everyone swiveled their heads in his direction. “Our son is a prime example of the love between a Morgon and a human.”

Jessen waved to Julian. He perked up and waved his hand excitedly. “Hey, Momma.”

The audience laughed. Julian slunk back against Lucius who patted his son on the head comfortingly.

Then Jessen faced the council. “If we are to be the civilized society we claim to be, the most enlightened province above them all, then we must uphold this proposal and ban the Volt gun.”

“And what about our investments?” Aron charged in a grating tone. “And our family holdings? This proposal will ruin the Grayson family. There will be a trickle-down effect in the economy as well. Don’t think there won’t be. Layoffs and job reductions. Families will sink into poverty over the passing of this one proposal. The people of Gladium will suffer because of it.”

The burning in my belly lit a hot flame up through my chest. Right as I burst to my feet, my father did the same, calling out in a booming voice, “Then send them to Cade Enterprises. I’ll gladly give them a job.”

A chorus of laughter rippled through the room. It took Tennison a full minute pounding his gavel to simmer everyone down.

“That’s enough, that’s enough,” said Tennison, turning to the Parliamentary members on either side and whispering before saying into the microphone. “We will recess until tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. when we will report our decision on Proposal eight-one-nine-five. Adjourned.”





Chapter 14





Demetrius was a head taller than the rest of the crowd that filtered out of Parliament’s White Chamber. He spoke down to his father, who was watching Lucius escort Jessen and Julian out of the chamber. His eyes appeared to be on his grandson, and I wondered what he was thinking when his gaze softened.

I corralled with the rest toward the exit.

“Well done, my dear,” said Aunt Asheera.

“Thank you, aunt. I just hope it was enough.”

The reporters jostled their way, pushing to get out, certainly eager to get back to their press and post their stories first. I finally found myself standing in front of Demetrius, his father still beside him.

He pulled me into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “You were wonderful,” he whispered. “Now let’s get you out of here.”

“Please.” I wrapped one arm around his waist beneath his suit jacket.

“Father, we’ll talk more at the office tomorrow.”

He grumbled something, glancing at me. His scowl was so familiar. I’d seen Demetrius wear the same expression so often it hardly had an effect on me.

KORC was in full swing as we exited the glass doors onto the courthouse steps. The man who’d shouted in my face when I entered now yelled at a Greyclaw a foot taller than him. The man pushed the Greyclaw, who backhanded the man against his chest, flinging him into the crowd. A swell of raw emotion erupted, fists and arms flying. Demetrius pulled me tight against his side and pushed his father through the crowd, but the horde seemed to be falling inward on us.

Sirens wailed as cop cars rushed on scene and police officers lined the steps. Someone fell into the back of me, crushing a shoulder into my wings.

“Ow!” I jerked away and pressed myself against Demetrius.

He gripped my waist tight. “Look at me, Shakara.”

I did.

“I’m going to toss you high into the air. You take flight and get out of here.”

“No! What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Can you do it?”

I was good at short take-offs. “Yes. I can do it.”

His fingers tightened on my waist as he bent and threw me high, the force of his strength sending me several feet above the crowd. I opened my wings and beat them rapidly, breaking free of the turmoil. Rising higher above the mayhem of fighting, I could only stare straight down at Demetrius. He was perfectly still among the chaos, his father pulling on his arm to leave, but he kept his eyes skyward, a content smile and expression of peace fixed in place.

I loved him.

These were the words drifting through my mind when a man flew through the crowd, arm raised high, the glint of silver in his hand, aimed at a Morgon who swept out of the way. Instead, the sharpened knife thrust into Demetrius’s chest. The attacker toppled forward, Demetrius falling backward onto the concrete, the blade still protruding from his body.