Chapter Forty-two
Eva’s heart hammered, newly strengthened by Calidum’s blood and her own transformation, so that it almost hurt inside her chest as she crashed through the debris surrounding the theatre seating doors. Her eyes scanned the theatre remnants impatiently.
But the ceiling had caved in, and rubble covered everything. The seats were crushed, the floor was split into segments by open chasms, and the walls had all but tumbled completely down. To make matters worse, dust filled the air, a nearly impenetrable cloud that hid most of the room from sight.
Eva raised her arms at her sides and concentrated. The wind obeyed her command, whipping up and through the room as if controlled by the beat of a dragon’s mighty wings. The dust rose at the behest of that wind, and disappeared over the crumbling ramparts. Eva lowered them again when the dust was clear and everything was visible.
Footsteps behind her told her the others had caught up. She could feel her mother here, somewhere… she was so weak. Nearly gone. Only the bond of Nomad blood between them provided any link at all. If it hadn’t been for that, Eva would have lost the tether entirely.
“She’s here somewhere,” Eva told them. She tried to think of what her mother’s name would be in this life, but the truth was, she didn’t know. She only knew her last incarnation. “Lalura is here,” she clarified. “I can feel her. She’s close to death.”
The men and women around her immediately moved further into the room. The men began lifting large pieces of debris and carefully moving them in case there was someone trapped underneath. The women either began casting spells or used inherent powers to move objects just as Eva had.
Evangeline closed her eyes and concentrated with all of her newfound might. Mother… please answer me.
*****
Lilith sat cross-legged in a dark room with her eyes closed and waited. Her hands rested easily on her knees, and her back was straight. She felt nothing – absolutely nothing, here in the core of her mind, where there was nothing left to feel. Her body in the outside world was nearly gone, nearly past the point of redemption, and she would once more leave this world, regroup, and reform as something else. A Tuath, she thought wistfully. Just so we’re clear.
But no solid new form appeared around her. No doorway to her next life materialized. She seemed to be waiting, eyes closed, forever. And there in that forever darkness, Lilith realized the inevitable.
Well, she thought winsomely, I guess nothing lasts forever. Hatred had killed her at last.
Mother… please answer me.
Lilith opened her eyes in the dark room and stared straight ahead. Had… she imagined it?
Mother. Please, help me.
Eva! Lilith thought, unable to keep herself from responding.
Mata!
She had to go. She had to make it to her daughter. Nothing mattered but her daughter!
But a world of memories flashed before Lilith’s mind, blotting out her will. Some said this was what happened when a human died, that their lives flashed before their eyes. She’d died plenty of times as a human and never experienced it. But this time, it seemed, was different….
“You have a choice to make, Katrielle,” Anharidan told her. He paced around her kneeling form, and she kept her eyes downturned. She’d learned her lesson with men like this. Anharidan was the Great White, the king of the dragons, and no one dared defy him.
There might have been a thread of rebellion within Kat, one that had grown stronger in the ten years since she’d lost her sister, one that had learned she had powers and could fight back. But she knew she was no match for him. Especially not now.
She was with child.
The presence inside her was still brand new, merely a week old, no more. But it was precious to her. More precious than anything. And she would not jeopardize it.
“You can claim the child is mine and wed me at sunrise.” He stopped in front of her, and she looked up. He was so beautiful, tall, broad shouldered, handsome, and wrapped in the iridescent white scales of his draconic armor. His white hair fell in careless layers to his shoulders, and his eyes were the lightest silver, a nearly glowing white. But at the moment, his pupils drowned them in inky black as they expanded upon the object of his desire.
He gracefully lowered to one knee before her and dared to cup her cheek. Katrielle closed her eyes, willing herself to not pull away, to keep the revulsion she felt from showing on her face. But he wasn’t fooled. He could see into her mind.
And when he roughly grasped her chin, her eyes flew open and he leaned in. “Or I can kill the child the moment it is born,” he hissed, showing her his fangs. “Before you have a chance to hold her in your arms.” He released her and stood again. “Your choice.”
Kat touched her stomach, still flat and taut, and asked softly, “Why me?”
“Because,” he said coldly. “You’re different.” His gaze narrowed on her. “I cannot pretend to know what you are, Katrielle, but you are far from human. You are even more special than any female dragon in my realm.” He took a deep breath, having regained his composure, and then continued to pace around the large, ornate tent that was one of the many he possessed and used as king. “You belong with me.”
He stopped and held out his hand in an offer to help her stand. She looked down at it. It was a strong hand.
“Will you be a good father to her?” She looked back up into his eyes.
Anharidan gazed steadily down at her for some moments. Then his chin lifted, just a little. “Of course,” he told her. His tone had softened in measures. “Make certain her heritage does not show in any physical manner, and she will never know she is not my daughter.” He shook his head. “The realms will treat her with the respect she deserves, and she will never want for anything. Nor will you, Katrielle.”
Kat swallowed back her pain, trying to drown her feelings for the girl’s real father. But it was impossible. They were too strong. So when she placed her hand in Anharidan’s, his fingers closed tight over hers, and he roughly pulled her off the floor and up against his chest, holding her there with one strong arm around her waist. “Make it convincing when you spurn Bantariax,” he told her in no uncertain terms. “Make him believe, Katrielle. Make him believe you never loved him… or she will die.”