Before she could do more than stare, the rippling mass of nothingness descended onto the wide, neglected lawn, and for the second time in as many days, a dragon appeared on her property.
Not a dragon. The dragon. Dragos Cuelebre, the only known dragon in existence.
Cuelebre was easily the size of a private jet. He was a deep bronze color that gleamed in the early sunlight. The bronze darkened to black at the ends of his gigantic wings, tail and long, powerful legs. He turned an enormous, triangular horned head to look around the clearing with fierce, metallic gold eyes before he shimmered into a shapeshift. His form shrank into that of a massive man, almost seven feet fall in height, with bronze-colored skin, inky black hair and gold dragon’s eyes.
She had to stop getting kicked in the head like this. She had to.
She looked at the brewing coffee with equal parts panic and despair. Then she looked at Chloe and Max. Chloe was tearfully muttering to the last of the banana in her hand. Max kicked a tiny plump foot as he licked his fingers.
Grace’s appalled gaze traveled back to the scene outside the window. Cuelebre strode in the direction of the front of the house. He had a brutal handsomeness, as though he had been hewn out of granite, and to her mind’s eye the air around him boiled with the force of his presence.
Violence is forbidden here. She had said that to Cuelebre just yesterday morning, when he had come to confront Rune and Carling, and eventually the Elder tribunal as well. Cuelebre’s mate had accompanied him yesterday, but this morning the dragon was alone. He was more frightening when he was alone.
People can be taken from this place, Dragos had said. And violence done to them elsewhere.
Grace started to shake. She fumbled for the thread of connection to Khalil and pulled on it. She sensed him streaking toward her, his bright Power arcing like a shooting comet, then he filled the kitchen with his presence as his form coalesced beside her.
Max crowed in surprise. Chloe said, “Hello there, doggie-cat. Would you like a bite of my banana?”
Grace turned to face Khalil. He had looked powerful and exotic last night, ivory and crimson, and gleaming raven black hair. In the full light of morning he appeared more alien than ever. He wore undyed linen this time, and his ivory skin was poreless. Those piercing diamond eyes focused on her then he glanced sharply around the cheerful, domestic scene.
He gripped her shoulder in one huge hand. “What is it?”
A sharp knock sounded at the same time. Dry-mouthed, she whispered to Khalil, “Would you mind answering that, please?”
His hard, elegant face turned toward the front of the house. Then he vanished. She felt him streak toward the front door.
Grace looked at Chloe, who assumed a pious expression as she held up the last of her fruit. Chloe said, “I was only trying to share.”
Grace leaned back against the counter and slid to the floor. Her bad knee protested, so she stretched out her leg. She leaned an elbow on her other, upraised knee and rested her head on the heel of that hand. Her blood pounded through her body in great sledgehammer thuds. She felt it throbbing in her eyes, at her temples. Male voices sounded in the background, but her heartbeat pounded too loudly in her ears for her to make out what Khalil and the dragon said to each other.
I can’t do this, she thought. Oh, Petra, you’re the one who always wanted to be the Oracle. I never wanted this. I was never supposed to be this. I’m not big enough, strong enough or smart enough to be the Oracle. It’s too much.
So that’s it, I’ll quit. If I stop talking to people, the Power will go away. Won’t it?
Small fingers touched lightly on her arm. Grace looked sideways under the support of her hand. Chloe knelt beside her, her blue eyes wide. “I’m sorry, Gracie,” Chloe said. “You’re not bad. You’re good, and I love you.”
Grace smiled. “Thank you, baby girl. I love you too.”
“You don’t have to make pancakes if you don’t want.” Chloe showed her other hand, which was empty. “See, I ate all my banana.”
“What a good girl you are.” Grace felt her eyes grow damp. She gathered Chloe up and hugged her. “You’re such a good girl.”
What if she rejected the Power and it did go away, just as all the family legends said it would? What if it found its way to her niece? Chloe was the only other surviving female of the Andreas family. Grace was already pretty sure Chloe was a potential.
If the Power did not pass to Chloe, was it possible for it to go dormant and wait? Grace couldn’t imagine having any children of her own—Chloe and Max were more responsibility than she had ever expected to take on—but sooner or later, they would grow up and possibly have children of their own. Could the Power move on to one of their children before that girl was ready for it?
She turned her face into Chloe’s soft floating hair. Like hell it would.