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Authors: Liliana Hart
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prompted.
“Just listen.” Calista’s body was rigid, her pale blue eyes intense. “These killings of our people are problematic, but it is something that happens from time to time. Usually when a Drakán grows tired of life and is looking for a way to die. What has me worried, and now has your father worried, are the disappearances. Drakán can’t be kidnapped without some sign of a struggle. It’s just not possible. But these Drakán were. Which leads me to believe that a member from one of the other clans has learned how to bend time and space to their will. There is a new Viator among us.”
A Viator was a Drakán who could time travel. The only living Drakán I knew who could do such a thing was Alasdair. The evidence of who was behind these attacks was stacking itself against Alasdair very neatly.
“When the Atlanteans destroyed our homeland eleven thousand years ago, your grandfather Niklos was one of the five warriors who survived. Their strength was the only thing that kept them from being swept into the black hole the Drakán Realm became. The ability to travel through time was the only way to move from Realm to Realm. It’s how we traveled to Earth to hunt. You know the history of the Banishment. Why the five warriors hated each other so much?”
I nodded in the affirmative as Calista went to the bar and poured herself another whiskey. She sipped it slowly as she walked back to the fireplace and stood there, staring into the flames.
“When the warriors couldn’t decide who should be king, the gods cast them out of the lands forever and into the human world. The warriors, who’d once been friends, separated from each other and became enemies, forming the five clans. As my father and the others mated with humans and procreated, our powers began to diminish little by little, so that very few hold the abilities of long ago.”
“I’m sorry Calista, but what does our history have to do with what’s happening now?” I finally asked. “I know all of this already. You speak to me of urgency, but I am spending my time here listening to stories instead of hunting.”
“You’re right. I’m stalling,” she said. “This isn’t a pleasant story. And there are parts of it you’ve never been told. Parts that very few of the younger Drakán are aware of. Alasdair spoke of shame brought down on our clan, and he was right. My mother was a traitor.”
I sat up straighter in surprise and then looked at Erik. He sat very still beside me, and even though it was unconscionably rude, I read his mind to see if he’d known about Calista’s mother. From what I gathered, he’d only overheard the rumors of the treachery, never the story itself. He gave me a long look, and I winced in apology at my rudeness.
“Niklos’ lover, Maliah—my mother—was his human mate for a short time. I was only a child when she betrayed him, barely twenty, but I remember every detail. Dimitris, one of the other Archos had seduced her and convinced her to kill Niklos and turn our clan archives over to him, promising her immortality if she agreed. All she had to do was bring him Niklos’ ashes to show him the proof. She was a vain woman, and she hated that she looked older than her lover, so she accepted his offer.
“Dimitris bespelled her so Niklos couldn’t read the truth in her mind—only lies he’d planted there—and he kissed her, giving her one use of his dragon’s fire so she could destroy Niklos. Maliah then went back to Niklos, claiming she was with child again, and he believed her because the lies had been planted. As you know, a pregnant woman is to be treasured above all else.
“Maliah had free rein over Niklos’ private chambers and went to his bed boldly, wielding her axe with the rage of a woman who was losing her beauty, taking his head off in one fell swoop. She breathed out Dimitris’ fire as he’d taught her, and watched her lover turn to ash.
She wrapped his ashes in animal skin and stole the
“Just listen.” Calista’s body was rigid, her pale blue eyes intense. “These killings of our people are problematic, but it is something that happens from time to time. Usually when a Drakán grows tired of life and is looking for a way to die. What has me worried, and now has your father worried, are the disappearances. Drakán can’t be kidnapped without some sign of a struggle. It’s just not possible. But these Drakán were. Which leads me to believe that a member from one of the other clans has learned how to bend time and space to their will. There is a new Viator among us.”
A Viator was a Drakán who could time travel. The only living Drakán I knew who could do such a thing was Alasdair. The evidence of who was behind these attacks was stacking itself against Alasdair very neatly.
“When the Atlanteans destroyed our homeland eleven thousand years ago, your grandfather Niklos was one of the five warriors who survived. Their strength was the only thing that kept them from being swept into the black hole the Drakán Realm became. The ability to travel through time was the only way to move from Realm to Realm. It’s how we traveled to Earth to hunt. You know the history of the Banishment. Why the five warriors hated each other so much?”
I nodded in the affirmative as Calista went to the bar and poured herself another whiskey. She sipped it slowly as she walked back to the fireplace and stood there, staring into the flames.
“When the warriors couldn’t decide who should be king, the gods cast them out of the lands forever and into the human world. The warriors, who’d once been friends, separated from each other and became enemies, forming the five clans. As my father and the others mated with humans and procreated, our powers began to diminish little by little, so that very few hold the abilities of long ago.”
“I’m sorry Calista, but what does our history have to do with what’s happening now?” I finally asked. “I know all of this already. You speak to me of urgency, but I am spending my time here listening to stories instead of hunting.”
“You’re right. I’m stalling,” she said. “This isn’t a pleasant story. And there are parts of it you’ve never been told. Parts that very few of the younger Drakán are aware of. Alasdair spoke of shame brought down on our clan, and he was right. My mother was a traitor.”
I sat up straighter in surprise and then looked at Erik. He sat very still beside me, and even though it was unconscionably rude, I read his mind to see if he’d known about Calista’s mother. From what I gathered, he’d only overheard the rumors of the treachery, never the story itself. He gave me a long look, and I winced in apology at my rudeness.
“Niklos’ lover, Maliah—my mother—was his human mate for a short time. I was only a child when she betrayed him, barely twenty, but I remember every detail. Dimitris, one of the other Archos had seduced her and convinced her to kill Niklos and turn our clan archives over to him, promising her immortality if she agreed. All she had to do was bring him Niklos’ ashes to show him the proof. She was a vain woman, and she hated that she looked older than her lover, so she accepted his offer.
“Dimitris bespelled her so Niklos couldn’t read the truth in her mind—only lies he’d planted there—and he kissed her, giving her one use of his dragon’s fire so she could destroy Niklos. Maliah then went back to Niklos, claiming she was with child again, and he believed her because the lies had been planted. As you know, a pregnant woman is to be treasured above all else.
“Maliah had free rein over Niklos’ private chambers and went to his bed boldly, wielding her axe with the rage of a woman who was losing her beauty, taking his head off in one fell swoop. She breathed out Dimitris’ fire as he’d taught her, and watched her lover turn to ash.
She wrapped his ashes in animal skin and stole the
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