Gabriel hated Medeia. She only confirmed for him why all non-dragons were inferior. Vampires and lesser shifters had no morals, and would leap at the chance to harm a dragon, if only out of envy. They desired what the dragons had: their strength, their treasure troves, their beautiful bodies. The humans had the same envy, and they would hunt dragonkind to extinction if they could.

Gabriel rested on the bed in his room, recovering from the drained blood. Medeia had drank and drank from him, so much so that he had finally lost consciousness. He thought she wouldn’t be able to control herself this time, and that he’d either wake up dead, or undead. But he lived, as far as he was able to determine. His mind was still his own. That was a good sign.

Or was it?

He had forced himself to rise when he had the strength, and checked the door. Locked and barred from the outside, as usual. He could break it down when his strength returned to more normal levels, but there was no point, as Medeia always kept two vampire guards on duty outside. They were armed with Strength-enhanced weapons.

He stared at the tribal tattoos on his forearms. The hundreds of pinprick-sized wounds had healed, but the wounds to his spirit were fresh. That tattoo had meant something, once. It had represented his stature among other dragons, as a leader of men. Now, with all the small scars, it served only as a reminder of his servitude.

He wished he could get a message to Gwendoline and let his sister know that it wasn’t him who had dispatched her to the dungeons, and that a vampire witch was controlling him. But what was the point, anyway? It wouldn’t change the fact that she was imprisoned and scheduled for execution in the morning. Still, he wished the vampire witch would simply drop the pretense and reveal herself. Just get it over with and spare him this shame. But maybe she had no intention of doing so. Maybe she wanted to rule Midnight from the shadows forever, running it as a secret vampire coven, like Aldam had been doing with the Steel Tower of the witches. It made Gabriel wonder how many other dragon dens and witch strongholds were controlled by the vampires. What if everything he thought he knew about the world was wrong? What if more than three vampires sat among the Council of Seven? What if the remaining four kings and queens belonged to the vampires in one form or another? Just like he, the king of North America, now did?

The thought made Gabriel sick to his stomach.

A world ruled by vampires is not a world any should live in.

Already Medeia had shared the reports with him, sent from dragons in the nearby cities. Attacks by vampires against the humans were up. The dens asked for an infusion of cash and reinforcements to help deal with the sudden increase, but Medeia had Gabriel sign a stock reply lamenting Midnight’s lack of resources at the moment. It was a lie, of course. The treasury was overflowing with confiscated funds, and troops could have easily been transferred from other cities to help handle the crisis. But North America was now Medeia’s.

Yes, already there are at least four vampires sitting on the Council of Seven, if I count Medeia.

Gabriel wondered which of her underlings she had attend the Council meetings in his place. Probably Cornelius Heftly.

A knock came at the door and Gabriel cringed involuntarily. Had Medeia come back to torture him again?

He heard the locking bar moving aside and then the door opened.

It was Sevilla.

He slumped in relief.

“I’m sorry, am I disturbing you?” Sevilla asked.

Gabriel didn’t say anything. He merely scowled at her. He still believed she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, at least for a vampire. Silky black hair that fell to her shoulders, framing a pale face whose skin was the hue of moonlight. Eyes like sapphires behind those unwieldy glasses. Black, form-fitting fatigues. She had stopped wearing gloves to hide her hands, and openly flaunted the dragon bone gauntlets of her profession. They were carved with intricate dryads, and seemed only to add to her overall beauty.

Though she was intoxicating, Gabriel reminded himself that he hated all vampires and lesser beings now more than ever. Still, the feeling seemed only half-hearted when directed at her.

How could he hate something so beautiful?

Very easily. Especially considering how rotten her core is.

But Sevilla was good at heart. Gabriel was excellent at reading people—his centuries spent in the royal court had honed those instincts. Sevilla was nothing like Medeia.

But she was still a vampire. Not a dragon. Nothing could ever change that. A lesser being. The First Rule prevented a union between dragon and vampire in any case.

Even so, he still toyed with the idea of seducing her. If he could make her fall for him, and then trick her into letting him go, it might be worth it to break the First Rule with her. And it would certainly be enjoyable…

He hadn’t had any time alone with her since that first day, and he had waited for an opportunity to see her again. And now that Sevilla was presenting him with one, he wouldn’t waste it. He would have to call upon all his dragonly charm…

But where to begin? She had been his slave once, centuries ago. She said he had treated her well. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage somehow. It certainly started him off on the right foot.

Sevilla entered and shut the door behind her. She took a seat on one of the plush, cushioned chairs beside the bed.

“Take off those glasses,” Gabriel said. “Let me look at you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t come here to do your bidding.”

“Didn’t you?”

“I came to comfort you,” Sevilla said.

“Then comfort me,” Gabriel said.

Sevilla stared at him for several moments, saying nothing.

Idiot! So much for your dragonly charm!

Sevilla unexpectedly reached up and removed her glasses.

Yes, definitely a heart stopper. She had no idea how beautiful she was, and that made her all the more appealing to him.

“Are you comforted?” Sevilla asked.

“Very much so,” Gabriel said. “You know, I always regretted not taking you to my bed.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Really. I thought you were too afraid of breaking your First Rule?”

“Yes,” Gabriel admitted. “I was. We dragons have laws. I like to live by them. I’ve always believed that even kings must obey the rules of commoners. To do otherwise is to promote the breakdown of society, and revolt.”

“But you want to sleep with me now?” Sevilla said.

Gabriel sat up straighter. Did he have her? “Very much so.”

She smiled. “I don’t believe you.”

Gabriel moved to the edge of his bed. “I’ve always wanted you, Sevilla.”

Her eyes seemed sad. “Ah. I know what you’re doing. It won’t work.”

“What am I doing?” Gabriel asked.

“As I told you before, I have sworn allegiance to her,” Sevilla replied. “I can’t betray her. To do so would bring all the vampires of the Middle East down on me. I’d be hunted for the rest of my days, and my death would be horrible. They’d rip my body into pieces, burn each part, and then grind up my bones to ensure I never came back.”

Gabriel nodded. “I have heard about the resiliency of the older vampires. Are you really that old?”

She stared at him for a moment, then said: “I shouldn’t be here.” She leaned forward as if to stand.

“No wait!” Gabriel said. “Don’t leave.”

She studied him uncertainly, then sat back.

“I used to think you were a good man,” Sevilla said.

“I am,” Gabriel told her.

She shook her head. “All I see is a selfish individual who cares more about saving himself than his kingdom. You think if you make me fall in love with you, I’ll let you go? Is that it? Spirit you away to one of the tunnels, so that you can make your escape from Midnight and never return?”

“I care about my kingdom,” Gabriel said. “What are you talking about? You don’t know anything about me.” Her words angered him and he grabbed her arm. “If you set me free, yes I’ll escape into the city, but I won’t flee. I’ll seek out rebels to join me and we’ll return to overthrow Medeia. I promise to spare you if you release me now.”

“Don’t touch me,” Sevilla hissed, shrugging from his grasp.

Gabriel lay back on his bed. “You may as well go. You’re no better than Medeia.”

“Fine.” She stood up. “Maybe I’ll send her to visit you.”

“Go right ahead,” Gabriel said.

She went to the door and touched the handle.

“Wait!” Gabriel sat up on one elbow.

She glanced askance to look at him.

“At least tell me if Medeia sent a raiding party to Gwendoline’s estate yet,” Gabriel said.

“She did,” Sevilla replied.

“Did they find anyone?” Gabriel said.

“Yes,” Sevilla said. “A woman. Dragons in Medeia’s control have told her they recognize the woman as the shifter Jett abdicated his throne for.”

Gabriel nodded. “Ariel. So Jett must be here after all.” His brother was going to save her and then get him out. Gabriel felt certain of it.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Sevilla said. “The guards chased him and his party into the Hooded Dale. They’re still hounding him as we speak.”

“What is Medeia going to do with Ariel?” Gabriel asked.

“I don’t know,” Sevilla said.

Gabriel frowned. “If Medeia touches her, Jett is going to be very, very pissed.”

Sevilla shrugged, then turned to go.

“You don’t have to do what she tells you,” Gabriel said. “I can tell you don’t like her. I can tell there is goodness left in you. As you told me yourself, you never wanted to be a part of any of this.”

Her eyes were sad. “You don’t understand. I’m hers, Gabriel. There’s no turning back for me, not anymore. It’s too late now.”

She opened the door and left.

Gabriel stared at the closed door behind her.

So much for seducing her.

Come on, Jett, if you’re going to rescue me, now would be a good time.