Chapter Fifteen
For the first part of the night, Cynthia slept like a baby, blissfully unaware of anything other than Cal’s arms around her. Later, she woke briefly, smiled at her sleeping lover, and ran a hand along his cheek. Then she closed her eyes and let herself drift in and out of dreams. The best dreams ever, because they focused on the present instead of a past she’d never get to relive. Peppered into those nice dreams were glimpses of a future that looked brighter and more joyful than she’d ever dared to imagine.
But something dark and foreboding crept along the edges of her dreams, and she awoke with a jolt, looking around. Cal was still spooned up against her, his arms wrapped around her exactly as before. His deep, steady breaths indicated he was sound asleep, though Cynthia felt wide awake. She lay still, piquing her senses.
The nighttime sounds of the plantation were as peaceful as they’d ever been, with leaves rustling gently in the breeze. The scent of night-blooming cereus drifted past billowing curtains that danced before the balcony door. Moonlight streamed in with the scent, beckoning her outside.
She slipped out of bed, feeling unsettled yet silly at the same time. Dell and the other guys were right about her being too uptight. What kind of person couldn’t sleep through a night as perfect as this?
Still, something gnawed at her nerves, so she stepped outside and rested her hands on the balcony railing. Moonlight rippled over the ocean, and palm trees waved to her from the shoreline.
Go to sleep, they seemed to yawn. Go to sleep.
A glance in the direction of Dell and Anjali’s house drew a faint smile to her lips. That was probably it — she was unsettled because Joey wasn’t home. She closed her eyes, picturing how excited he’d be to rush home in the morning and tell her all about camping out. Dell would have told him funny stories and probably cast shapes on the tent walls with his hands and a flashlight. A grand adventure in Joey’s eyes.
She smiled into the moonlight, letting her gaze wander over the plantation grounds. Such a peaceful night. So perfect. So—
Her head jerked to the right, and she squinted. What was that, moving in the distance?
She searched the sky just above the horizon. That had to be Kilauea, spewing more ash over on the Big Island, right? Or had that been lightning, flashing beyond the clouds?
Just as she was beginning to relax again, that faint, distant something moved again, and a chill went down her spine. Should she wake Cal — or better yet, Connor, who was responsible for security? She grimaced, wondering what exactly she would report.
I saw something.
Connor would rub a hand over his sleepy eyes and ask, What? What did you see?
I’m not sure. But something moved way out there.
It would sound ridiculous. Worse, she’d sound paranoid, and everyone already considered her far too wound up. Besides, she was covered in Cal’s scent, and she wasn’t ready to make the others aware of that.
But something had moved out there, dammit. She glanced at Cal. He was as close to baby-faced with slumber as his grizzled features were capable of, and there was no way she would disturb that. The sleep of the just, as her grandmother used to say.
Instead, she took a deep breath and extended her arms, tuning in to the wind. Her fingers stretched, and her nostrils flared.
Yes, her dragon hummed. Let me out…
The skin around her nostrils burned, as it always did when she was seized with the urge to shift. She hurried to fasten her necklace around her ankle first. She wore it everywhere — around her neck as a human and around her ankle as a dragon. Yes, it was silly, but she’d promised her mother to always keep the pearls close, and that was the best way.
She pushed open the swinging railing Tim had installed on the balcony, took a deep breath, and jumped, letting her dragon take over. Dive shifts were always exhilarating since they began with a free fall. But the moment her wings snapped open, the plunge turned into a graceful upward arc. With a sharp flick of her tail, she climbed into the sky, then beat her wings to gain altitude. As she flew, she flexed her claws, thrilling in her own power.
Feels so good, her dragon hummed, banking left and right to warm up.
It did feel good. A different kind of good than sleeping with Cal—
That wasn’t good, her dragon insisted. That was amazing.
She grinned. Amazing was right, and she’d hated leaving him. Still, if she was lucky, they could squeeze in one more round of sex before the sun rose. But right now…
Beating her wings steadily, she headed out over the sea. All she had to do was fly out for a few minutes to assure herself nothing was moving in the darkness. Then she could head home to sleep off the remainder of the night.
But a few minutes turned into fifteen and then thirty as she flew on, chasing the elusive sight. It was like climbing a mountain — just when she thought the end was near, another bend would appear, making the journey stretch on.
The longer she flew, the more the feeling of dread grew. She studied the waves below, imagining sea dragons staging an attack. But there was no indication of any such thing. Just a flickering motion straight ahead and a strange pounding in the air. Faint yet foreboding, like a set of drums warning her…
She frowned into the night. Warning her of what?
The sound grew louder, and alarms clanged in her head. She banked sharply, then climbed.
Whoa, her dragon muttered at the shape hurtling along a trajectory opposite the one she’d just been on. Something with wings, a tail, and long legs, like a giant bug.
No, wait. Not a bug, she realized as it shot past. A helicopter.
She whirled, following it with her eyes. What helicopter flew without lights at night, keeping barely above the wave tops?
One that doesn’t want to be spotted, her dragon said. One headed straight for—
Her heart stopped. That helicopter was heading straight for Koakea Plantation.
She whipped around, ready to chase down the helicopter and incinerate it. But a cackling sound filled her mind, and she slowed, drawn in the direction of the Big Island.
Feeling a little conflicted, cousin dear? a voice burst into her mind.
Cynthia’s mouth burned as she let out a burst of fire. Moira.
She hovered in place, trying to think over the distraction of her cousin’s nasty laugh. But it was hard, what with panic threatening to engulf her.
Whatever will you do? Moira goaded, bullying her way right into Cynthia’s mind.
Cynthia took a deep breath and partitioned her mind. She couldn’t lock Moira out, because she had to find out what her cousin was up to. But she’d be damned if she’d let Moira overhear her call to the others.
Cal! Connor! Silas! she screamed, using the mental connection they shared.
Groggy whispers ghosted through her mind, and finally, one voice called out. Cynthia?
Her heart ached. It was Cal, and she could sense his confusion.
Moira is here, she said, wishing she had time to explain why she’d flown off without waking him. Or rather, she’s near. She’s sent a helicopter, and it’s headed straight for Maui.
Moira? Silas’s voice cut in.
One by one, the members of her pack awoke, filling her mind with a babble of concerned shouts. Who? What? Where?
I’ll track down Moira, she barked. You take care of that helicopter. Her gut lurched, and she slipped sideways, losing her grip on the thermal she’d been riding. Joey. Watch Joey. Keep him safe.
Wait, Silas called, but she concentrated on Cal.
Cal, I beg you. Protect Joey. Keep him safe. Please.
Cynthia— he called, but Silas cut in sharply.
Wait for Connor and Jenna. They’re on their way. Wait for backup. I repeat, wait for backup. Do you copy?
She snorted and flapped her wings, racing for the Big Island. No, she did not copy. She wasn’t a member of Silas’s Special Forces team, and she was through with letting other people fight her battles. Moira was out there somewhere. And though it went against every motherly instinct to fly away from Joey rather than racing home, she knew she had to hunt her cousin down.
Moira was the source of so much evil in the world, not to mention so much of the sorrow in her life. Moira had tricked her into believing Cal had betrayed their bond, and Moira had tried to kill Joey in the attack Barnaby had barely staved off, sacrificing his life. Moira had harassed and targeted the shifters Cynthia loved, again and again.
Not any more, her dragon vowed, speeding into the night. Not any more.
***
The air rattled with an explosion, and a towering cloud of ash and steam rose before Cynthia. Her heart pounded, conflicted by so many emotions. Like rage, directed at Moira. Anxiety for Joey’s sake, and for her friends. Concern for the citizens threatened by the volcano. But she couldn’t afford to face Moira without being fully focused, so she forced herself to concentrate on the map in her mind. As long as she followed the northeast shore of the Big Island — easy enough, given the row of lights along the coastal road — no one would spot her. Moira had to be hiding at the edge of the erupting volcano, as she had done months earlier when she and Drax had come to Hawaii to confront Silas and his mate, Cassandra.
Not hiding. Waiting, Moira spoke dryly into her mind. You won’t be late, will you, cousin dear?
It pained Cynthia to listen to Moira’s chatter, but she forced herself to home in on her enemy and to think things through at the same time.
Don’t get too comfortable on that farm of yours…
Moira hadn’t been lounging on a couch in a penthouse when she’d said that. She’d been plotting an attack.
Cynthia raked the sky with another long blast of fire, and her dragon snarled. When I get a hold of that bitch…
She wanted nothing more than to race in, tear Moira apart, and head back to the people she loved — Joey, Cal, and the shifters who’d become a second family to her. But Moira was a cunning enemy, and an expert in laying traps, so Cynthia proceeded as cautiously as a furious mother could.
Another blast split the air as Kilauea spat more heat and ash. The clouds to Cynthia’s right billowed against the dark backdrop of night. The mighty volcano had been sputtering and coughing for months, forcing hundreds to evacuate their homes in fear of lava and poison gases. The land below looked like a war zone with ash-covered ground, charred trees, and the ravaged foundations of houses.
One thing was for sure — Kilauea did provide the perfect cover for a dragon fight. Cynthia had to give Moira that much. What the darkness of night didn’t conceal, the volcanic activity would.
There, her dragon grunted as the long, bony finger of a peninsula appeared ahead.
She slowed to reconnoiter before landing. An ancient lava flow had formed a long tongue of land ringed by steep slopes. The hills were dotted with flashing red lights, like runway markers blown into disarray. A closer look revealed those to be crevices in the brittle surface where bubbling magma showed.
Cynthia sucked in a long, steadying breath. Moira loved overdoing things, but this had to be her most audacious staging ever. And sure enough, she made her usual grand entrance. Moira stood in the midst of that fiery landscape, wearing a red gown that billowed in the wind.
Cynthia scowled. Moira had chosen that outfit to heighten the effect, no doubt — trying to impart the impression that she could control the volcano along with the financial empire she’d amassed. Well, Cynthia knew better than that.
Still, her gut twisted when she counted four…five…six more dragons perched on the surrounding cliffs. Each held his wings out in a sinister salute to their mistress.
A gas vent erupted, and Cynthia squinted against the heat.
Ah, Cynthia. Do come down where we can talk, Moira called.
Cynthia made another pass along the shoreline, debating what to do. She’d expected a few mercenaries, but she’d been entertaining the fantasy that she could take them on thanks to her recent training. But facing six big male dragons at one time?
Stall, her dragon said firmly. Connor and Jenna are on their way. They can take care of the others while we kill Moira.
Cynthia hated the idea, but what choice did she have? Moira had to be stopped, once and for all. As for herself — well, she didn’t have to be a hero. She just had to get the job done.
Curving the edge of her left wing, she lined up for a landing. Jagged lava loomed wherever she looked, so she braked with her wings rather than attempting the usual jogged-in landing. Reaching out with her claws, she held her breath. A one-touch landing was the hardest kind, and if she didn’t judge the wind just right…
Hot air blasted from a vent in the earth. Cynthia gritted her teeth, reached with her talons, and—
She exhaled and folded her wings primly, faking a look of nonchalance.
Aced that landing, her dragon crowed.
Even Moira looked impressed — for about five seconds, at least. Then she grinned and cackled. “My, my. You have been hanging around those toy boy soldiers for too long, my dear Cynthia. Whatever would your mother say?”
“My mother would ask how much lower you could stoop, Moira. Sneaking around at night? Hiring mercenaries?”
Moira snorted. “You’re the low one, Cynthia. Hiding on a farm in the middle of nowhere. Using a false name. Letting your son grow up among those heathens…”
Cynthia showed her fangs. The men of Koakea were not heathens. They might not have the polished manners of the dragons she’d been raised among, but they showed more heart, loyalty, and courage than the mightiest dragons she’d known.
A twinge of sorrow went through her. Barnaby had possessed all those qualities too. Barnaby had been a good man and a great father. A loving partner, in his own way.
She steeled herself. One more reason to rid the world of Moira right now.
When Cynthia stalked forward, Moira shrank back. But the dragons on the surrounding ridgeline leaned in, extinguishing the little rush of power Cynthia felt. In dragon form, she was four times Moira’s human size, and her golden scales glittered in the glow of the lava. Golden dragons were rare, and Cynthia’s markings were the rarest of all, thanks to the solid black ring around the crown of her head. A sign of the noblest dragon lineage, descended from the royalty of old. Moira, on the other hand, was a dull, grayish-brown in dragon form.
Look at me, her dragon nearly hissed at Moira. Do you really dare take me on?
Once upon a time, Cynthia might have been guilty of a little too much pride in her dragon looks. But she’d learned the hard way that nobility came from one’s actions rather than an accident of birth. Connor had proven that, as had the other men and women of Koakea. Still, she could feel the power of her ancestors swirling in her veins, giving her courage. Courage she would need, she was sure.
“What exactly would you like to talk about, Moira?” she asked, speaking out loud in her low, growly dragon voice. Her throat burned when she did so, but it was intimidating as hell, and the flash of worry in Moira’s eyes was worth it.
However, Moira recovered as quickly as ever and thrust her hands onto her hips. “What do I want to talk about? Well, my fortune, for starters.”
Cynthia laughed, letting the rough rattle frighten Moira into another backward step.
“Of course. Your favorite subject. Money.” Cynthia narrowed her eyes, letting her fury show. “Are you referring to the fortune you stole from unsuspecting dragon families?”
She didn’t say my family, because most of her own wealth had been carefully hidden away. But Moira had seized as much of Barnaby’s holdings as she could, plus whatever she had managed to grab from the estate of her dearly departed lover, Drax, and a dozen other dragons Moira had used, abused, and eventually disposed of.
“It’s all a matter of perspective.” Moira flapped a hand, unconcerned. “Right now, I prefer to focus on the fortune I am about to expand.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” Cynthia clawed the ground.
One of the surrounding dragons launched into the air and circled high above in a silent reminder of what Cynthia was up against.
Moira smiled and leaned closer. “By killing you, of course.”
Cynthia thrust her wings wide and opened her mouth, daring Moira. But her cousin went on, unimpressed.
“Oh, I will kill you, dearest Cynthia. It’s inevitable, you know. It’s your sweet little boy we’re here to talk about.”
Rage like nothing Cynthia had ever experienced coursed through her veins, and she lunged forward. But Moira’s guards launched into the air, halting her in her tracks.
“You will not utter his name,” Cynthia hissed. “You will not touch him.”
Moira’s eyes glowed as she flung her arms wide, preparing to shift. “Oh, but I will.”
Her fingers elongated, as did the webbing between them, forming wings. Her toothy grin made the horrifying transition into a set of fangs, and when scales broke out over her body, the remaining scraps of her red dress billowed in the wind.
Moira laughed and motioned toward Maui, speaking in her raspy dragon’s voice. “And who knows? I might just claim him for my own.”
Bile rose in Cynthia’s throat. It was bad enough imagining Joey threatened. But for Moira to steal her son and brainwash his innocent mind…
She could picture it all too well. Your father was a coward, Moira would say, patting the poor, confused boy’s head as servants scurried around in muted fear. Your mother was pure evil. If it weren’t for me…
Moira grinned. “Why, Cynthia. You read my mind. That’s exactly what I have planned.”
A thunderous roar escaped Cynthia’s throat, and she launched herself at Moira, bellowing, “Never. Never!”