Hidden Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon Book 7) by Genevieve Jack (best ereader for manga txt) 📗

his shoulder and then back at Sylas. “I don’t believe for a second that Eleanor let you go.” He chuckled. “Fugitive or not, you know I want to help you, but no one gets to the master without going through Zaruki.”

“Then let us speak to Zaruki.” Sylas cracked his neck. Zaruki’s loyalties were questionable. Like the master, she wasn’t a member of the rebellion but also wasn’t enamored with the empress. If she had any loyalty at all, it was to Nochtbend.

“Wait here.” Ruthgard left so quickly all Sylas could track was a blur.

“Who’s Zaruki?” Tobias asked.

Sabrina picked at something under her nail. “That would be the master’s right-hand man. Likely a deadly killer who would just as soon rip us apart as have a little chat. Mine can smell trouble a mile away.”

Sylas chuckled. “She’s female, but other than that, you are exactly right.”

Tobias nudged his arm. “Should we be disguising ourselves?”

Sylas shook his head. “Won’t work here. You can’t hide the scent of dragon blood in a room full of vampires.”

“I can attest to that,” Sabrina concurred.

“Being dragons is one thing, but do they have to know we’re the heirs?”

“The master will know. He’s been around since before we were children. Trust me, Tobias, he’ll know, no matter how we look on the outside. Lucky for us, there is no love lost between Nochtbend and Paragon. They have two members on the Highborn Court who are sympathetic with Eleanor, but they do not live here in the palace. Demidicus can’t abide their company. With any luck, we won’t encounter them.”

Tobias ran a hand over his face. “With any luck.”

The blur was back. “Zaruki will see you now. Follow me,” The portcullis lifted, and Sylas followed Ruthgard inside. The rough-hewn walls gradually gave way to more sophisticated surroundings: warm wood floors, walls covered in art, gold fixtures. Strange music played softly in the background, piped in through camouflaged speakers.

“Here we are.” Ruthgard opened a door and gestured into a room with a long gathering table.

At the head of the table, Zaruki waited. She did not smile as they filed into the room, just watched them with an intense, unblinking stare. Zaruki had always reminded Sylas of a cat. Her long crimson nails were filed to sharp points like claws, and her narrow, dark brown eyes had the natural slope of a feline’s. If there was one word to describe her, it would be narrow. Every part of her was exceptionally long, from her legs that stretched the full height of the table, to her arms that reminded him of tree branches, to her abnormally lengthy neck that supported an oval head with a pointed chin and a ponytail of platinum hair. Under a thick fringe of bangs, her complexion was always pale. He’d never seen it pink from anger, exertion, or embarrassment. He didn’t think she was capable of it.

Once the four of them were in the room and had taken positions around the table, Sylas bowed halfway as was the custom among the vampires. He knew better than to extend his hand. “Thank you for seeing us.”

“I received word that someone killed a full-grown hornworm overday in Grimtwist. I assume that was you.” She scowled her disapproval.

Sylas skirted the issue—after all, she hadn’t directly asked a question. “We’ve come to speak to Master Demidicus about Paragon’s recent attack on Everfield. We have reason to believe it was the first but definitely not the last. Your kingdom is likely the next in her crosshairs.”

“As much as I am sympathetic to your plight as exiled heir, I think your assessment of the situation is biased by your history with Paragon. Representatives Armand and Viessa claim that Everfield broke the universal law. They were harboring a fugitive from Paragon. Paragon was within its rights to retaliate.” Her gaze fell on Sylas. Did she know that he was said fugitive?

Dianthe snapped, “And apprehending this fugitive requires burning the Empyrean Wood to the ground? Killing innocent fairy elders and children? Forcing an entire community into homelessness?”

Sylas wished she hadn’t poured so much emotion into her words. The vampires were rarely moved by emotional pleas but loved to use their adversaries’ triggers against them.

As expected, Zaruki’s face remained impassive. “While I am sure certain fairies found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time, I am told that the Elder Tree still stands, as does the solarium. Clearly the destruction of Everfield was not as complete as you are suggesting.”

Dianthe gritted her teeth. “The homes of Everfield’s Highborn Court representatives were untouched. The very citizens who should defend Everfield against Paragon once again find themselves in a position where they’ve experienced no loss, have no skin in the game, and can easily turn their back on the hundreds of innocent fairies unfairly left in squalor.”

Oh fuck. Sylas attempted to smooth things over. “What we are trying to say—”

“Nochtbend cannot become involved in a disagreement between Everfield and Paragon. I will have someone show you out.” Zaruki moved dismissively toward the door.

Sabrina blocked her path, her red hair seeming to grow brighter in the intensity of the moment. Her fangs descended with impressive control. “You will take us to your master.”

“Who are you, vampire?” Zaruki stared, unblinking, at Sabrina.

The redhead did not smile or bow but raised her chin in order to stare down her nose at the other woman. “I am Sabrina Bishop, master of the Lamia Coven.”

“Master? I know nothing of this coven. Where do you hail from?”

“Chicago,” she said. “I’ve come a great distance.”

Zaruki arched an eyebrow. “I am not familiar with Chicago or with your coven. But I’m curious why you would travel a great distance to insert yourself in a minor political skirmish in the five kingdoms?” She sniffed, a clear message in her eyes—mind your own coven.

“I will speak with your master now!” Sabrina said firmly.

Zaruki turned her attention back to Sylas. “The vampires of Nochtbend have chosen to remain neutral in this political affair. We’ve never cared