The Dragon Legion Collection(2)

Lorenzo knew that Erik was only moments away. He had an illusion to stage for the leader of the Pyr and it must go flawlessly. He hated to be distracted before a performance, particularly a challenging one.

He had beguiled Erik before, but wasn’t entirely certain that he could do it again. Erik might have learned something in the interim.

That uncertainty was part of what made the trick interesting.

He didn’t need this interruption.

“I can’t help you,” Lorenzo said flatly, pushing on the door again. “You’ll have to leave.”

Drake stepped across the threshold, his defiance tempting Lorenzo to shift. “We will not leave.” Drake spoke with resolve, and a faint ripple passed through his men. Lorenzo was aware of the glitter of their eyes, the way that they stood at the ready. He was outnumbered, in his own home, which did nothing to dispel his irritation. “We have been summoned and a promise has been made.” Drake stretched out his hand again. “Keep the vow.”

“It wasn’t mine.”

Drake didn’t move or blink. He waited.

Lorenzo heard Erik’s car at the gate. He heard the chime that echoed in the house whenever a vehicle was allowed to enter the compound. He saw the slight flare of Drake’s nostrils.

“Leave,” Lorenzo insisted.

“How timely,” Drake said instead. “I can appeal to the leader of the Pyr to take my side. Erik is fond of promises kept.”


“I made you no promise!”

“Promises must be kept.”

“It wasn’t my promise.”

Drake held Lorenzo’s gaze, his own unblinking. His warriors had moved when Lorenzo wasn’t looking. They stood at attention in rows just outside the door, their gazes as flinty as that of their leader, closer than they had been before. There was a slight shimmer in the air around them, that pale blue light warning that they hovered on the cusp of change.

Shit. The last thing Lorenzo needed was a fight over a promise he hadn’t made. As he did, Lorenzo was sure Drake heard Erik being ushered into the house, courtesy of his sharp Pyr hearing.

Drake didn’t move.

He seemed to smile slightly, as if anticipating triumph.

The sight infuriated Lorenzo. “I must see to my guest.” He gestured to the men in his courtyard, indicating that Drake should rejoin them. “You will wait together until I return.”

Drake held his gaze for a long moment, as if wanting to ascertain whether Lorenzo was lying. If Erik had not been waiting, if he had not needed every bit of his strength, Lorenzo might have tried to beguile the leader of the Dragon’s Tooth Warriors.

Just to find out whether it could be done.

But as it was, he was annoyed and surprised, precisely the way he did not want to be before a performance. Perhaps his irritation showed. Perhaps Drake knew that Lorenzo was more like Erik than he would have liked others to believe. Perhaps Drake recognized that Erik was close enough to aid his cause if necessary.

Because it took only a moment for Drake to incline his head and step back to join his men. He folded his arms across his chest and fixed his stare on the sliding glass door when Lorenzo locked it.

They both knew that Drake could rip it open if he so chose, that he could break into the house and take whatever the hell it was that he thought was owed to him. They were all dragon shape shifters and it was courtesy that made Drake step back, not fear.

Because he wanted something. What?

Who had summoned Drake?

If Lorenzo hadn’t known for a fact that his father was clinging to the last tendrils of life, he would have known where to find the answer.

As it was, he wondered who had set him up.



* * *



An hour later when Lorenzo returned to the courtyard, the angle of the sun had changed.

And the courtyard was empty.

He unlocked the door, just to check. There was no sign of Drake and his men, not even a faint whiff of their peculiar scent in the air.

Even though Drake had been determined to have whatever it was he believed he was owed, he’d left. Had he gotten whatever he’d been promised, or had he changed his mind? Lorenzo couldn’t imagine that Drake surrendered a fight easily. It made no sense.

Unless someone else had summoned Drake.

Unless someone else had given Drake what had been promised.

Lorenzo eyed the window blind on the second floor. He shut and locked the door, then raced up the stairs and strode to the apartment in that corner. It was dark in the luxuriously appointed rooms, dark and still. He stood in the shadows of the doorway and listened to the long slow rhythm of his father’s sleep.

No, Salvatore was still hibernating. Lorenzo’s suspicions melted. His father was only the ghost of what he had been, his vitality having faded abruptly this last century. It was a miracle, truly, that he was still alive. Salvatore couldn’t be roused that quickly these days, was often confused, and took a long time to settle back to sleep again.

Salvatore’s days of making mischief were over.

Lorenzo was honest enough to admit to himself that he missed them.

He left his father’s apartment, still thinking. Drake must have simply given up. It was long odds but not impossible. Even Pyr could be less than perfectly predictable.

Lorenzo returned to his plans for the massive spectacle he was planning, vaguely disquieted and distracted.