Page 23 of Wild Bond (Wild Bond #1)

A warning shot down the bond, and the next instant Skye was there knocking me to the ground and covering me with her hard scaled body, having crashed through the large window as she transformed to her natural size.

I was only vaguely aware of this however, as chunks of stone and glass rained down on us and the entire roof over Safan’s office was pulled back to reveal the night sky. The massive black dragon roaring to the heavens as he clawed his way through the ceiling beneath him.

The sound was deafening, and Safan screamed. I peeked around Skye’s wing and watched Rake move aside so Naasir could reach down and clasp Safan, chair and all, in his enormous claws.

Telling Skye the danger had passed, I scrambled to my feet. We watched from the rubble as Naasir launched into the night with the flailing, screaming Safan clutched in his talons.

As we watched them disappear, I was amazed at how suddenly and swiftly Rake and Naasir had handled the situation. The action was clean and precise. No blustering or idle threats. They struck hard, and they struck fast, and they got the job done.

I found myself in awe of the man beside me. I could tell Skye was impressed as well. She hated Safan on principle, because I did, and for what he had done to me. As far as she was concerned, he was a threat to me, and Naasir and Rake had handled that threat, so she approved.

“Where will Naasir take him?” I asked Rake, who still stood by the desk a few feet away. I didn’t really care what happened to the man; I was just curious. All my anger from earlier had bled out of me, and now I was just tired.

“To The Tower compound. He’ll be kept in one of The Tower cells for interrogation.” Rake’s voice was still flat and cold like when he’d threatened Safan.

Our eyes met for a moment, and he looked away.

“We should go.”

I was surprised no one had come to investigate, but then realized that most of the workers and patrons had probably fled. No one in this part of the lower city wanted to have anything to do with dragon rider business. And there was nothing like the roar of a dragon to make everyone scatter.

Skye shrank down to perch on my shoulder as I wiped off and sheathed my daggers. As I picked my way around debris and followed Rake out of the destruction and back onto the street, my mind kept traveling back to Lessa. I was worried about her and wondered where she was and what was being done to her.

Rake seemed to have retreated into himself, gone somewhere I couldn’t reach. He was striding quietly beside me, both of us getting buffeted by the strong wind that warned of an incoming storm. After several minutes of the silence, I felt like it would be up to me to break through the strange tension between us. A tension brought on by the icy shield Rake had slammed in place.

“He said he has powerful friends . . .,” I began, thinking out loud. “Who did he mean?”

Rake still didn’t look at me. “We’ll question him and find out who they are. He’ll tell us where Lessa is too . . . and the others he’s taken.”

I shook my head. “No, what I mean is . . . the friends he mentioned . . . Who is powerful enough to make it so that he wouldn’t think he needed to be scared of you ?” Safan had been so cocky and self-assured when we first entered his office. So sure he was untouchable.

“It’s a short list,” Rake stated.

It wasn’t an arrogant statement; it was just the truth.

“Either a council member, or someone from the royal family,” he continued. “The queen or the . . .”

He trailed off. His copper skin turned pale for a moment as if Safan’s words had made him come to some conclusion. Then sheer rage took over his expression.

“Or someone who’s both,” he finally said.

It took me a second to realize what he was implying. “Wait—you’re not seriously suggesting that Prince Pierce is behind this, are you?” I asked incredulously.

Rake didn’t respond.

“He’s the crown prince of Baldor. He’s a rider!” I protested. “You really think he’s who Safan meant? That he has something to do with these children disappearing? What possible motive could he have?”

“Not just the kidnappings,” Rake said, and there was something in his tone, a quality that made me pause.

“What—what do you mean?”

For a moment he said nothing, and I was about to press him when he finally spoke.

“If it’s him, he’s not just involved in the abductions,” he clarified. “He’s involved in all of it.”

I stared up at him, seeing the tightness in his eyes and that purposely blank expression. I was becoming all too familiar with it, but I had been around him enough now to see through it. “All of what?” I asked.

He stared down at me for a long moment, and I knew he was deciding whether to disclose whatever it was.

“Tell me,” I urged. “I know it goes against your spymaster nature to share information, but if you know something more about what is going on, I deserve to know.”

“Not here,” Rake cautioned.

As if the gods themselves were listening, his statement was punctuated by a roiling boom of thunder and crack of lightning.

I fell silent and didn’t say another word as we made our way to one of the many courtyards in the city that boasted a landing platform, just like in Itrain. Skye shifted back to her natural size as Naasir landed a minute later, already back from his trip to the castle. We climbed up and were on our way back to The Tower in moments.

As we flew, the wind really began to pick up, the clouds opened, and it began to rain. Hard. Even though it was a short flight from the lower city, I was soaked in moments. My cloak did little to keep out the cold, pelting droplets.

Once at the compound, we flew upward toward Rake’s room at The Tower. It was surprisingly easy to climb from Skye’s back as she hovered next to the small balcony off the double doors that led into Rake’s room.

Rake had dismounted first and stood next to the stone railing extending a calloused hand to help me step down. He looked incredibly good standing there in the rain with his hair slicked back out of his face. I couldn’t help being reminded of the bathhouse.

Quickly shaking the thought from my mind, I placed my foot solidly where Skye’s wing met her shoulder and took a leaping step from Skye’s back.

My hand grasped Rake’s and I was able to easily step down to the balcony. “I think I might prefer the stairs,” I observed, nearly having to shout over the storm.

I stared up into Rake’s chiseled face and saw the grin there. “You’ll get used to it,” he shouted back. A small thrill went through me. Was he implying that I would be visiting his room often? I hoped so.

We were both soaking wet when we got inside. The dragons shrank to their minor forms and clambered in after us. With little regard for her surroundings, Skye shook the water from her body, reminding me of a cat I had once seen do the same thing. I could tell through the bond that Skye didn’t appreciate the comparison, but almost immediately she was off exploring Rake’s room again. Naasir watched her suspiciously, monitoring her every move from where he sat by the now closed balcony doors.

Without speaking, Rake and I removed our cloaks and hung them up next to the fireplace to dry. Thank the Gray Gods for the attentive servants of The Tower compound who had anticipated the fire would be needed in the first place.

My trainee leathers were soaked through and clung to my body like a second skin. Rake’s tunic and pants weren’t much better. Luckily my boots had managed to keep my feet dry, but that was about it. My braid was dripping down my back, and I had to push some of the loose, wet tendrils from where they had plastered themselves to my face and neck.

Rake handed me a towel from next to the small wash basin. I thanked him and quickly used it to wipe my face dry and to scrunch the droplets from the ends of my hair.

Seeing this, Rake gestured to the door. “You should go and change out of those wet things. We can finish our conversation in the morning.”

I shook my head. He wasn’t getting out of explaining what he knew that easily. “No. We’re talking now.” Plunking myself down on the arm of the cushioned chair by the fire, I waited expectantly.

When he stubbornly didn’t say anything, I decided I’d wait him out. Like I had said to him, I knew it went against his naturally secretive nature to share information. I could wait. I began slowly unbraiding my hair. I might as well let the fire start drying it for me.

I had finished unbraiding it and begun working my fingers through some of the more stubborn tangles when he finally admitted, “That night in the tavern . . . Borden is not the first person to die the way he did.”

That wasn’t what I had expected him to say. I thought he was going to explain that he knew something more about Prince Pierce that would connect him to further crimes, not bring up the poor blacksmith’s death, and what we saw that night. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t hesitate to answer me this time. “There have been two other deaths reported in the lower city recently. The five-year-old daughter of a maid who worked in one of the noble houses and a young boy who ran with one of the street gangs. Both died of a strange illness.”

“You mean . . .”

“Bloodshot eyes, red veins, foaming at the mouth.”

Curse the Gray Gods and all the Nine. “Just like Borden,” I breathed, horrified.

Rake nodded. “Both exhibited the same symptoms before their deaths. And both went missing before turning up ill. The little girl for a few weeks, the boy a few days.”

I lowered my hand, realizing it had been covering my mouth as he continued, “Zade discovered on our trip to Itrain that there hadn’t been an increase in the dragon trade as we suspected, but that there have been four similar disappearances there as well. All young children. All of which turned up later only to soon die of strange causes. There are also several adults that have gone missing as well, but they haven’t been found.”

“So, this isn’t just happening in Dessin,” I stated, my words not really a question, but Rake nodded anyway.

“It would appear so, and I have no doubt there are more that we just aren’t aware of yet.”

My mind raced. “So, you think whoever is behind these disappearances . . . whoever Safan is working for . . . is the same person who abducted Borden and ordered those chains? You think the same person captured that dragon and is somehow causing this strange illness that killed those people?”

It was then I realized that I had begun to pace before the fire and stopped.

Rake nodded. “It’s Pierce.”

I shook my head. “But why, though? He’s a prince, the heir to the throne, and on the rider council. Why would he kidnap anyone? Why hunt and capture a wild dragon? It makes no sense. What is his motive? Not to mention that if it was the prince, his dragon wouldn’t have allowed him to capture another dragon.”

“Not every bond between dragon and rider is like yours with Skye, or mine with Naasir for that matter,” Rake said. “Not all riders see their dragons as equals. Some have a relationship more like owner and pet. His dragon might not have any control over what he does.”

Unfortunately, what he said made sense. Over the past several months I had seen firsthand how different riders treated their dragons and interacted with them. The bond was like any relationship, and though unique in that it connected a rider and dragon mind to mind, and some would argue soul to soul, that wasn’t a guarantee that each pairing would have the same level of respect and care for each other.

I personally couldn’t imagine treating Skye as something lesser or subservient to me. The very idea seemed repulsive and wrong.

Skye mentally nudged me in the bond, assuring me that she felt the same.

Forcing myself to put those thoughts aside for now, I tried to return to the topic at hand. But it was hard to do. My mind felt like it was veering several places at once. The implications of what Rake was saying felt treasonous to voice aloud.

If what he was saying turned out to be true, and it was all connected, then Lessa was in more danger than I first thought. Thinking of her turning up in a few weeks and then dying from the same illness as Borden made me sick to my stomach. A cold rush of fear settled in my gut.

As I thought it over, my mind suddenly latched onto a random detail. “But Borden, when we questioned him . . . he said the man who bought the chains was older.”

Rake considered this. “Borden could have been mistaken. Or Pierce could have sent someone else in his place with his ring to purchase the chains.”

“Borden said the ring the man wore around his neck was silver. Wouldn’t Pierce’s be gold since he’s a member of the royal family?” I wasn’t sure why I was defending the prince so adamantly when he was a condescending bastard.

“Pierce had a special ring commissioned when he was placed on the Dragon Rider Council. It bears a crest with both the tree representing the Andor family line and the dragon rider symbol. It’s made from both gold and silver metal. He would have worn it around his neck to protect his identity. Borden wasn’t meant to see it.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Borden would have recognized him.”

“Not necessarily. Borden said the man kept his hood up. He didn’t see his face.”

“But we can’t know it was him,” I protested, gesturing in the general direction of the castle. Once again thunder boomed outside followed by a flash of lightning. “Borden was confused, and half-crazed. He wasn’t even sure what he saw.”

“I know that,” Rake replied.

“Do you?” I pressed, a hint of exasperation in my tone. “I know you don’t like the prince, but don’t let that color your judgment. And don’t forget that even if it is him, all we know he is guilty of is ordering some chains from a blacksmith. A blacksmith who is now dead and can’t tell anyone his story. Oh, and one of your contacts saw a tall man with light hair who might have something to do with the disappearance of a woman and little girl in the lower city.”

Rake stared back at me. “Are you done?”

I was breathing hard from my little speech, and once again, I had been pacing across his room. Taking a deep breath, I halted my steps and turned to face him.

Rake was leaning back against his big, polished desk, ankles crossed, still soaking wet, with his hair slicked back, watching me with a slightly exasperated expression.

I shot him an apologetic look. “Yes?” My answer came out sounding more like a question.

He shook his head again, and I knew I caught a hint of amusement that time.

“You’re right,” he said. “Pierce and I have a history, and I think he’s a self-important prick, but believe it or not, I don’t intend to go accusing him of anything. All we know is circumstantial at this point, and we need more proof before acting. Questioning Safan should help with that. Hopefully he knows something that can make all of this make sense.”

I felt a small measure of relief at his words, but not much. I opened my mouth to respond, when suddenly a surge of triumph and glee raced through me. An emotion that I definitely knew wasn’t mine. The feeling was quickly followed by an enraged roar that erupted from behind us.