Hidden Passions (Hidden, #7)(65)

They were--and they weren't alone. A huge gray gargoyle, as big as a delivery van, circled the night sky above the penthouse. Tony had mentioned a gargoyle with nesting rights to his brownstone's roof. Since no one seemed surprised to see this one, Chris assumed it was him. Looking much smaller by comparison, the gold and green dragons soared in the behemoth's wake. The girl dragon cawed, took a running start on the pavers, and flapped up to join them.

She and her siblings weren't flying neophytes. Incredibly swift and agile, they kept up with the gargoyle despite the difference in their wingspans. Chris's breath caught as the brood began doing loop-de-loops. They looked like leaves tumbling: green, gold, red--one after another in a synchronized aerial ballet.

How sad it would be to lose this wild beauty from the world! The fae who'd wanted to exploit these creatures to cause death were blind to their true value. The brood made everyone around them feel more alive.

The pain of his old loss stabbed his heart center. He'd have given quite a lot for his little brothers to see these amazing beings.

"They see," said a soft calm voice inches from his ear.

Chris jerked his head around. Jin stood beside him. She couldn't have spoken. The voice he'd heard was male.

"What?" she asked, her eyes widening.

Chris wagged his head. He must have imagined it.

~

Tony grinned as Grant led the dragons in their showoffy flight. What hams they were! Scarlet, in particular, was adept at waiting to pull a trick until the roof lights spotlighted her. The kids loved the spectacle--Tony too, of course. His heart leaped with excitement each time the trio tumbled and recovered.

He was glad he hadn't missed out on seeing this wild beauty. The fae who'd wanted to use the dragons for destruction had been stupid. They had so much more value than mere reservoirs of power. Cass was right about them belonging here. Resurrectioners would protect the brood--including him, proudly.

"The Guild likes to think they control Destiny," Cass's father said.

Tony jerked. He hadn't noticed Roald come up to him. The fae was unnervingly silent, not to mention unnervingly beautiful. His profile was a statue's, his slender figure somehow epitomizing grace and masculinity. Luckily, the pureblood's glamour was locked up tight. Tony could do without the Viagra-like effect of his faerie dust.

"Aren't you still a member of the Guild?" he asked the disquieting quiet man.

Roald smiled faintly. "I suppose I am. Perhaps I support their ends without them knowing it."

Tony shouldn't have looked straight at him. Roald's soft blue eyes dizzied him. The pureblood seemed to be examining something inside Tony. No wolf would have stared like that, not without intending to challenge him.

"Uh," Tony said awkwardly. "Can I get you something, sir? Maybe a burger or a drink?"

"I am well," Roald declined. "This won't be painless. Please remember you chose this the moment you first touched your brother's gauntlet and it shocked you."

"Huh?" Tony said. He remembered being zapped by Rick's brass knuckles, but not that he'd chosen anything. Mostly, he remembered being annoyed by yet more proof that Rick was the special one.

He wasn't going to get an explanation. The cryptic faerie had walked away.

Roald stopped at one of the roof's lushly green areas of grass. Mystified, Tony watched him crouch down and pat the turf like it was an animal. Then he straightened and stepped onto it. Three small cypresses grew in pots nearby. If he'd believed Cass's father was a drama hound, he'd have said the trees made a good backdrop.


"Excuse me," Roald said. "Could I have everyone's attention?"

He didn't raise his voice, nor was he someone anyone answered to. All the same, every person there stopped what they were doing and turned to him.

"What is it, Dad?" Cass asked.

He smiled with such tenderness Tony remembered faeries could be fathers too.

"Do you trust me, daughter?" he asked.

"Of course I do."

"Do you trust those men from the Dragon Guild?"

"Sort of?" she said, making it a question.

Her father smiled. "I think you and the dragons deserve better than 'sort of.' I propose that here and now, with your friends and allies to bear witness, we settle the matter of who shall carry Ceallach's sword for you."

"Can you do that, sir?" Rick asked, his arm around Cass's shoulder. Tony knew his brother well. He could tell Rick was a teensy bit wary.

"Long ago," Roald said, "when the Sevryn clutch was given into my keeping, I was entrusted with the magic that calls new protectors. Rick, your gauntlet's previous owner, who died at Ceallach's hand, called you to the position. Fortunately, the ranks of those who guard may be swelled without souls passing."

"We are the guardians!" Tony's nephew Ethan burst out without warning. Puffing out his little chest, he used the growly voice he thought made him sound adult. "We protect the dragons! We defend the innocent!"

Oh Lord, Tony thought. The five-year-old was quoting Mini-Dragons to the Rescue.

Super-powerful he might be, but Roald hadn't anticipated this interruption. He made Tony warm to him, at least a little, by looking as if he were about to laugh.

"That is correct, young man," he said.