Page 27 of The Dragon King’s Claw (The Dragons of Serai #17)

I won't bore you with the details of my torture. They're irrelevant anyway. What's important is the motivation behind the torture—theirs and mine.

“All you have to do is be true to your kind!” the Eljaffna man growled. Again.

It was a group of over fifteen of my people. The number disheartened and disappointed me. I had no idea that so many of us were traitors. And for what? Our king was excellent. He actually took an interest in his subjects. So what if he denied a few requests for importing goods?

Wait. That was it. This wasn't about loyalty or pride. It was about coin. Wealth. These men and women were merchants. That explained so much. And it changed things a bit.

“Stop lying to me.” I lifted my chin, ignoring the blood that flowed down my neck from the movement.

“You are all merchants. You want me to control the King and make him change his laws to favor you. Is it a particular item you want to import? Perhaps the frang flowers? The ones the humans get addicted to.”

They froze. Then they looked at each other.

I nodded. “You're nectar movers. The humans have a name for you.

Let's see, what is it again? Dream dealers.

The nectar puts them in a state of euphoria.

Once they've experienced it, they cannot resist experiencing it again.” I paused, wondering if I was addicted to an experience as well.

Or perhaps a person. I had tasted and experienced, but not fully. I wanted more.

“We are not nectar movers!” a woman hissed.

I lifted a brow at her.

“You're as good as they say.” A man stepped past the others to face me.

“Ah, there you are.”

“Excuse me?”

“You're the one in charge. I've been wondering when you'd come forward.”

“How did you know that?”

“They were going to lie to me further, but your coming forth silenced everyone. You are in charge. You are also the man who was following the King and me. That means you're connected to my case. How complicated. You can't kill me, can you? Hallaxgral wouldn't allow that.”

The Eljaffna gaped at each other.

“How the fuck do you know that name?” my stalker snarled.

“A little Brujai told me. Now, perhaps we can come to an agreement.”

“You'll summon the King? You'll use your blood connection to control him?”

Blood and power—they were the same for an Eljaffna.

Of course, the power we wielded over our blood donors only lasted a few weeks.

But we can always take another sip and refresh the connection.

If it's done subtly enough, the target doesn't even know they're being controlled.

And it must be done subtly or the Eljaffna risks exposing our secret to everyone.

If it got out that we can control our donors, no one would offer us blood. Not even for the bliss of our bite. Our race would starve. Die out. We are the one immortal race that can die from a lack of sustenance. When I say that blood is life, I mean it literally.

So, using blood to control the King—a man of great intellect who is monitored by everyone around him—is not only a traitorous act, it's also a foolish one.

My refusal to use our connection to control him didn't merely stem from a sense of loyalty to King Tor'rien.

It was out of preservation for my race. Even these morons.

All right, I didn't want to betray him. Him, Tor'rien, not the King. That was a separate matter. The King was a symbol. I liked the man. And there were so few people I liked.

“No,” I said at last. “I won't control him. You must see that it would risk all of us. I am trying to protect our race. I cannot control the King of Rushao without anyone noticing.”

“Yes, you can, Claw Shinkai.” The man grinned.

“As you know, I've watched you. You have the skill. You have the mind for it. You could become the power behind the throne. Think about it. You could be his consort. Forever. Even if his mate appeared one day, your control over him would overwhelm that magic. You could have him without worry.” He leaned closer.

“You are worried, aren't you? That's why you haven't become his lover yet.

You're so analytical. You have calculated the risk and decided it wasn't worth it.

The only thing I'm not sure about is what you think you're risking. Is it your heart or your freedom that you value so highly?”

“Well, now . . .” I cleared my throat. “That's rather a keen observation.” Then I narrowed my eyes. “And it's not yours. You got that from Hallaxgral, didn't you? You've been watching me, yes. But he's been observing. He sees.”

“Hallaxgral has nothing to do with this!” The Eljaffna slashed his hand down. “I followed you because I've been waiting for the chance to take you. And I know about you because I am wealthy enough to pay for information. You are unliked enough that there were many willing to give me what I sought.”

“Unliked is not a word. You mean disliked. And I am not disliked. My colleagues may not adore me, but they do respect me. There are few who dislike me. The only one I can think . . . of . . . ugh.” My head fell back in annoyance. “Damn him.”

“You are so brilliant and yet so oblivious.” The Eljaffna shook his head.

I just stared at him. When you don't know what to say, say nothing.

“So, how about you summon the King now?”

“No.” That was all that was left to say.

The man roared, his fangs glinting in the low light that streamed in from the tall window behind me.

High. Yes. High on the wall. That meant dawn had arrived.

It also meant we were in a basement. Why are such underhanded exchanges so often conducted underground?

Did criminals think a few feet of dirt could hide them from the law?

But back to the upset Eljaffna.

I watched him have his fit, preparing for what was to come.

If he was telling the truth and there was no link between them and Hallaxgral, he might kill me.

Was it really worth it? The wise thing to do would be to concede, draw the King there, and then turn on them.

Hmmm. Now, there was a thought. But that would mean exposing my race's secret to the King.

I would have to tell him how I summoned him.

As much as I respected the man, I knew he wouldn't keep our secret.

He wouldn't be able to. Not as the King.

He would see it as a betrayal of his other subjects.

Damn him for being a good man. It was going to get me killed.

I went over the situation once more in my head. Factored in all the risks and benefits. It was very simple. One man wasn't worth an entire race. Besides, even if I lived, I might die later from starvation. Better to die now in honor than starving in shame.

I lifted my chin.

“I will tear out your fucking heart!” the man shouted in my face.

“I'm told that I don't have one. I suppose that answers your earlier question.”

He blinked. Then he drew back his hand and hit me.

Again, I won't go into the details. The beating was painful.

It lasted a long time. Obviously, they were still hoping that I would capitulate.

I would not. Pain does not sway me. Not with a mind like mine.

I simply separated myself from the physical sensations, retreating into a mental state.

It's an easy enough technique if you take the time to learn it.

A few deep breaths, a raising of your consciousness, and then you're in a cocoon of your own creation. Everything soft and muted.

The pain was still there, but I wasn't. I was somewhere else.

And in that other place, I realized I would always have it as a refuge.

Any pain could be escaped there. But I wasn't worried about heartache, was I?

Love wasn't real. I liked the King, but I'd never love him.

Would I? Perhaps I dismissed the possibility of succumbing to an emotional bond too quickly.

As a man of intellect, I knew that anything was possible.

Did that shift my concerns? Add to the risk?

I wasn't sure. My cocoon was a good place to find answers, though.

So, I searched myself as they did their worst. And I was just as critical as they were.

One thing was evident; those who believed I was heartless were wrong.

I had a heart in both the literal and figurative sense.

I could show compassion. I wouldn't have held that boy so tightly or run so quickly with him if I were heartless.

Nor would I be concerned about the person who may die because I wouldn't solve Kun-lo's murder in time.

A man with no heart wouldn't feel such things.

He certainly wouldn't allow himself to be murdered to save his race. Or a king.

Did that mean I was capable of the kind of love King Tor'rien spoke of?

No. Not necessarily. I still didn't believe in the true love of poetry and romantic stories.

Such an unfailing devotion couldn't exist without coercion or magic.

But I was believing more and more in the pleasure that came from those unreliable ephemeral emotions.

There was no denying that I found pleasure in the King's presence.

Even when he annoyed me. Which made no sense.

But accepting nonsense seemed to be a current theme in my life.

I had to explore the possibility that the pleasure I gained from forming an emotional attachment with the King might be worth the risk involved.

I would simply have to be careful about issuing commands.

As in, I could speak nothing even vaguely dominating in his presence again.

Why worry about risking emotional pain when I could retreat into my mind?

In that safe place, I could heal and see things more rationally.

Thus, no risk. Had I just reasoned away my reluctance to be with King Tor'rien?

Yes, perhaps I was twisting things to suit my base needs.

I could see that there as well. But all of this wouldn't matter if that Eljaffna killed me.

I sighed and stopped fighting the pull of death. I had no control over it. The rational thing would be to get it over with quickly.

But death never came.

Slowly, I became aware that retreat was unnecessary. I surfaced. There was pain, but it was decreasing in intensity. It was the pain of the past—wounds already administered. I blinked, my senses returning. Someone was holding me. Stroking my face.

“Tekhan. Why isn't he responding? His eyes are open.”

“I don't know, Your Majesty.”

“Tek!” The King shook me. “Tek, you stop that! Come back. Now! I need you to come back to me!”

I surfaced fully from my trance and realized who was there—who was holding me. “No,” I whispered. “I didn't mean to. You shouldn't be here.”

“Oh, thank the Gods,” the King exclaimed. Then he pressed our foreheads together. “You're all right. Tell me you're all right.”

“Get out! You need to go!” I tried to sit up, but my arms wouldn't work.

“Will you stop telling me to go away?!” He lifted his face to glare at me, but then his stare shifted to the sides. “Great fuck. What did they do to you?”

I looked to the right, but I didn't focus on my broken arm.

Instead, I took in the Eljaffna. They were on the ground in different states of injury.

The King's Dragon knights stood around them.

Even as my safety registered, talons came swarming into the room.

They looked at me and then at the Eljaffna.

“Take those bastards into custody before I kill them all!” the Dragon King roared.

“Yes, Your Majesty!” someone said.

“What did they do? What are the charges?” someone else asked.

“Treason,” I whispered.

The King's head jerked back toward me. “What did you say?”

“Help me up, please.”

Gently, as if I were made of thin glass, the King angled me upward. He still held me, bracing my back against his chest, but I felt a little better addressing talons upright.

“These people conspired to manipulate the King,” I said. “Charge them with treason and with the capture and torture of a claw.”

“Uh, is there any evidence?”

“The evidence is on his face!” the King snarled. “It is in his words. This is Claw Tekhan Shinkai and if he says they are traitors, then they are traitors!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

The Talon team asked no more questions after that. But the King would. I saw it in his eyes when he turned his stare back to me. And I wondered if he could read me as easily. Because if he could, my entire race was doomed.