Legacy of Flames: The Complete Trilogy

By Emma L. Adams

 

It's not easy being one of the last living dragon shifters in London.

 

Two years ago, when the faeries attacked the mortal realm, all supernaturals were dragged into the open.  Unfortunately for dragon shifters like Ember and her sister, dragons are still hunted by humans and supernaturals alike. Keeping a low profile is difficult with monsters roaming the streets, but Ember and her band of rogue shifters have managed to survive.

 

Until their oldest enemy, the supernatural-hunting Orion League, emerges from the shadows and captures Ember's sister.

 

To get her back, Ember is prepared to walk into the depths of London's magical underworld, even if it means kidnapping a lethal ex-hunter who'd like nothing better than to add her name to his kill list. His inside knowledge of the League is the key to saving her sister, but with their allies turning on them, Ember must choose who to trust or meet the same end as the other dragon shifters.

 

This bundle contains the complete Legacy of Flames trilogy: Alight, Arise, and Aflame.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emma Adams
• Release date: May 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201446086

Emma L. Adams

Emma L. Adams spent her childhood creating imaginary worlds to compensate for a disappointingly average reality, so it was probably inevitable that she ended up writing fantasy novels. She has a BA in English Literature with Creative Writing from Lancaster University, where she spent three years exploring the Lake District and penning strange fantastical adventures. Now, Emma lives in the middle of England and is the international bestselling author of over 50 novels including the world-hopping Alliance series, the urban fantasy Changeling Chronicles series, and the fantasy adventure Relics of Power trilogy. When she's not immersed in her own fictional universes, Emma can be found with her head in a book, playing video games, or wandering around the world in search of adventure. Visit www.emmaladams.com to find out more about Emma's books.

Book preview

ALIGHT

LEGACY OF FLAMES: BOOK ONE

ALIGHT

It's not easy being one of the last living dragon shifters in London.

---

Two years ago, when the faeries attacked the mortal realm, all supernaturals were dragged into the open. Unfortunately for dragon shifters like Ember and her sister, dragons are still hunted by humans and supernaturals alike. Keeping a low profile is difficult with monsters roaming the streets, but Ember and her band of rogue shifters have managed to survive.

---

Until their oldest enemy, the supernatural-hunting Orion League, emerges from the shadows and captures Ember's sister.

---

To get her back, Ember is prepared to walk into the depths of London's magical underworld, even if it means kidnapping a lethal ex-hunter who'd like nothing better than to add her name to his kill list. His inside knowledge of the League is the key to saving her sister, but with their allies turning on them, Ember must choose who to trust or meet the same end as the other dragon shifters.

1

The strange light appeared on a cloudy Tuesday when I was supposed to be helping Cori with her algebra homework.

One second, everything looked normal. The next, the sky above London burned an angry red like the inside of a flame. It happened so suddenly it’d have been out of the ordinary even if it hadn’t been the middle of the day.

Huh, I muttered. That’s weird.

‘Weird’ in my line of work was nothing new. My sister and fellow dragon shifter, Coriander, perched on her chair and doodled on her homework, while I tilted my head, trying to see the source of the light. It must be an illusion, otherwise the non-supernaturals would be coming out of their houses to stare at it. The most basic rule of being one of us: don’t flaunt your power if you don’t want to end up dead in an alley.

What’s up, Ember? asked Cori.

I pointed. Red sky at two in the afternoon… is that a thing now?

The redness slipped away, leaving the sky the same slate-grey colour it had been before. Cori frowned, leaning forward in her seat.

Did you see that? I asked her.

Yeah… maybe. Might have been a trick of the light. She settled back and returned to chewing her pen over the page of equations.

A dazzling flash lit up the air. Now there’s lightning?

What’s this, a weather commentary?

No, really. That light isn’t normal.

I frowned and listened. No thunder followed. My magically attuned senses were muddled with so many traces from the various shifters living in this building that I couldn’t sense what might be causing the light outside. Whatever it was must be really big or too far away to sense.

I looked back at Cori. She and I were homeschooled. At least, I had been up until I turned eighteen. For the last three years, I’d worked at a bar, scraping together every penny I could to pay our rent. Rhea had taken us in as a favour, but she risked her life by keeping so many supernaturals in the same place. Someday, I’d get us our own flat, but for now, our attic room was home. Weird home for a dragon, but we weren’t built with the modern world in mind. We were supposed to be extinct.

At a glance, neither of us carried a trace of the reptilian beasts we’d one day be able to transform into whenever we wanted. Our auburn hair was more like a candle than a furnace. Our eyes were grey—like ashes, Cori said. They glowed when we were pissed off, though neither of us had fully shifted yet. My claws would come out when I was angry or scared, but that was a rarity.

Sometimes I ran a hand over my shoulder blades and imagined wings bursting free, but that’d never happen. Not in public, at least. I’d seen Rhea’s gargoyle form only a handful of times in all the years I’d known her. Half her pupils were gargoyles, the rest wolf or bird shifters. Others, like us, were less classifiable. Fewer than five people actually knew what we were. Because, you know, we were pretty much an impossibility. I’d spent the last year in anticipation of my first shift, though I didn’t admit so to Rhea. We were supposed to stay hidden, not crave open spaces to spread our wings and rain terror down on unsuspecting humans. Okay, that last part’s a joke. Modern dragons don’t spread destruction and fire. We’re too civilised for that.

London didn’t feel like a cage, but the presence of the hunters who’d happily hunt us down and sell us for profit did. And speaking of hunters… as I looked out the window again, a black-clad figure ran down the street. A member of the Orion League—aka, the reason for our secrecy. It was by no means unusual to see a hunter during the day, but never this close to our home.

A slither of fear ran down the back of my neck, and my heart began to beat faster as two more hunters joined the first. They weren’t coming this way. They ran through the tight London street in the direction where I’d seen the weird flash.

They aren’t hunting us. They don’t know we’re here. Rhea had expertly hidden the locations of our hideouts. The hunters wouldn’t be able to find us unless we deliberately drew their attention.

Except they didn’t normally walk out so blatantly in broad daylight. If the weird red light in the sky could be called ‘daylight’. The League operated in secrecy, not strutting around publicly proclaiming themselves as the big bad dragon slayers. They were vigilantes in a way, working in the shadows via a chain of command, taken underground for terrifying initiation rituals and taught all supernaturals were evil and deserved to be exterminated. Well, that’s what Rhea said. And I believed her.

I took a step back from the window, suddenly certain they’d look up and see through our tinted windows. Ridiculous, of course. Our wards kept out intruders. The illusion spell worked on anyone, even the League.

So… who, or what, were they hunting? Had a supernatural wandered into the open, and used magic? No way. Every supernatural learned early on that keeping their abilities secret from humans was the cardinal rule. Not because regular humans would kill us, but the League would. If Cori and I knew anything, it was that we were targets.

My earliest memory is of us running through Euston’s Underground Station at rush hour, my hand gripping Cori’s hard to avoid losing her. I remember the rumbling of a train underneath our feet and the cool air of a huge industrial fan. Cori’s memories begin a bit later, but neither of us can remember how we got there. The first twelve years of my life are a total blank, fogged before that particular memory came into focus. Five-year-old Cori holding onto my hand as I led her through the noisy confusion of the station until we ran up against the ticket barriers. After that, I remember fumbling in my pocket and finding two tickets. I didn’t remember where I’d got them. Nor who’d given me the note with a name and address scribbled on it in handwriting that wasn’t mine. Neither of us had the faintest idea who’d written it, or even where we came from. Hundreds of trains reached Euston station every day, from all parts of the UK. Our entire history was wreathed in fog as thick as the mist that rose off the Thames on the day we arrived. Our accents were hard to place. All we had were the clothes on our backs, a mysterious note, and a leather-bound book, mostly containing blank pages, and other pages covered in a foreign script nobody knew how to read. The few English words it did contain were downright terrifying.

Cori and I weren’t human.

I’d looked after her since that day, when I’d followed the note’s instructions until they brought us to Rhea’s place. Sometimes I wished I could remember the past, but I liked my life. The secrecy didn’t bother me. I’d rather live in secret than fall prey to the Orion League.

Most ordinary people wouldn’t recognise a hunter if they saw one any more than they would a dragon shifter. They were experts at stealth and blending into crowds. Those with unusually sharp eyesight might spot them climbing over the rooftops, but would probably assume they were stunt artists. The hunters were almost as accomplished at hiding themselves as the supernaturals they hunted. London, with its tall buildings, tangled streets and communities old and new rubbing shoulders against one another, was the perfect hiding place. But we were okay. The days when people were arrested on suspicion of witchcraft were long gone. The hunters were dangerous, but no more than other everyday hazards. Keep quiet, don’t reveal your magic, and don’t draw their attention. Simple.

Until that day.

I risked a look outside. No fewer than seven hunters were on the road now, walking at a brisk step towards the source of the light. There was no mistaking their target.

Someone’s using magic! I gasped.

Cori ran to my side. What the—what are they doing? Her voice ended on a squeak as she dug her hands into my arm. The League knows about us. They’re coming.

Not for us, I murmured. If someone had used a spell… then they’ve drawn the hunters right to them.

Not just the hunters. Anyone would see the light. The sky was on fire.

Or so it seemed from this angle. Reddish light smothered the thick clouds, like an early sunset. The sun had all but disappeared behind it, sending dark red-tinted shadows down the roads. As I watched, the colours shifted along the spectrum—orange to yellow to green, then blue, purple, grey…

It’s faerie magic, said Cori. See the colours?

Faerie magic can’t be seen if you don’t have the Sight, I said automatically.

I know that. She rolled her eyes at me, though panic had begun to creep into her expression. But why…?

Because someone wants us to see, said a soft voice. Rhea. Faeries can choose to reveal their magic to anyone by removing the glamour.

I knew that, too. Faeries were able to tone down their glamour if they liked, but they rarely did. It wasn’t worth the risk. They might not be as outright hunted as shifters were, but no hunter would miss the chance to torture a supernatural.

The three of us watched the beacon cross the sky as slowly, irrecoverably, it sank in. Someone wanted everyone to see their magic. Humans, non-humans, supernaturals… hunters.

We need to run, I said, half to myself. Everyone in London will have seen that sign.

Cori stared at me. Aren’t you overreacting a little?

She’s right. And every member of the Orion League knows what it means, said Rhea. It’s their prophesied war. A war on all supernaturals.

For another second, we remained suspended, as though if none of us moved, time would rewind and everything would make sense again.

Then a scream came from outside, followed by another. A chorus rose from the heart of the city, a sound of nightmares.

We all moved at the same time. The emergency drill was routine thanks to endless rehearsals which had usually seemed like a trivial waste of time. We each kept an emergency pack with enough supplies to last us a few days, and we had the various escape routes through the Underground memorised. I hitched the bag onto my back, strapping two long knives to my belt. I didn’t like fighting with weapons—my claws itched to come out—but I preferred to pretend to be human up until the last possible moment.

Cori stood in the corridor, hopping from one foot to the other with a wild look in her eyes.

What are you doing? I asked. C’mon.

The plan said to burn the evidence that we lived here, said Cori.

There’s no point, Rhea said, emerging behind us carrying a rucksack. Every supernatural in the city’s going to be vulnerable, but the hunters won’t know where to look if everyone flees at once. There are too many of us.

Not us, said Cori. Ember and I are the only—

A deafening screeching noise drowned out her words. Then the ground shook under our feet.

Earthquake?

No. Rhea shook her head. We’ll head straight for the Underground.

We ran downstairs, out the back door. The overgrown garden proved more of a hindrance, but one look over my shoulder told me we’d made the right choice. A giant—it could only be a giant—walked down the street, its bulbous head hovering above the rooftops, its huge fists swinging at its sides. A lamp post went flying, followed by a recycling bin. Every step sent a tremor underneath our feet. My legs went weak as my heart rate accelerated. I wasn’t sure even a dragon could outrun something that size.

"Giants?" Cori mouthed, her eyes stretched wide.

Worse, said Rhea.

She wasn’t kidding. Our garden was protected by witch spells, despite the untamed plants, but over the fence, the plants in other gardens warped and twisted and grew. Tiny imps leaped out of the air, teeth bared in murderous grins. Winged monsters soared high, dive-bombing the street behind us. Flashes lit up the sky, which otherwise grew darker until it seemed like the grey clouds were touching the earth.

What’s happening this time? Cori whimpered, clutching a knife in shaking hands.

Rhea didn’t answer but led the way to the back fence. Then she stopped. The spells end here. Once you’ve climbed over the fence—run. Stick with me. Don’t lose one another. Ready?

I nodded, my throat as dry as tarmac in a heatwave, my palms curled into damp fists around my knives. My claws pressed against my fingertips, ready to burst out if anything threatened my sister or my mentor.

Ready, croaked Cori.

Rhea vaulted the fence, and Cori and I followed at a run. One second, the garden enclosed us. The next, we were surrounded by thick, unnaturally low clouds. Inside, clawed things appeared and disappeared, horrifying noises sounded, and Rhea shifted into her stone gargoyle form.

The fearsome sight of her seven-foot-tall winged frame sent any monsters in our path scurrying away. Cori and I followed at a dead sprint, legs screaming, lungs burning. At the street’s end, Rhea stopped. Even though I knew her, I faltered for a second at the sight of her curved stone-like claws, her beaked face. But that wasn’t what stopped my breath.

The Underground station was buried in rubble. From the ruins, screams rang out, and a giant tore through the red brick with fearsome strength. More winged creatures hovered around, diving at any surviving humans crawling from the wreckage. Other people ran through the streets or cowered in alcoves, as though if they hid just out of sight, the madness would pass them by.

The giant had left a trail of devastation in its wake, but seemed to be heading the opposite way—towards the busy tourist district. My stomach lurched at the sight of bloody bodies discarded in the road. Giants were fae, and as far as I knew, none still existed in this realm. Something had gone very, very wrong.

Whenever we’d run through the drill in the past, we’d been operating under the assumption that none of us would ever be able to shift openly. But with the sky on fire, with the whole world panicking, the balance had shifted. My mind churned through possibilities. What if every supernatural came out of hiding? The hunters would be revealed as the sadistic animals they really were. Maybe they’d be locked away. Maybe…

Who are you kidding? I thought as my feet pounded against the paving stones. Those screams belonged to the ordinary people confronted by the underworld living underneath their feet. The terror of the unknown. No human weapon, no matter how powerful, could stand up to the strongest supernaturals. Mages could burn cities down, and had to exercise extreme self-control not to do so. Necromancers could unleash an army of the dead. Shifters could transform into fearsome beasts. And faeries… the amount of power contained inside their realm was capable of burning this one to ashes.

We stopped running at the entrance to the local park—or Cori did. Rhea landed beside us, stone-like wings spread wide to repel any attackers. Then she shifted back into human form.

It’s the faeries, she growled. They’re coming here.

The faeries! Cori clutched a stitch in her side.

Flashes lit up the sky, alternating between green and blue, dazzlingly bright. Meanwhile, a thick fog filled the gaps in between, sweeping through the streets. Already, the path through the park was shrouded. Figures began to appear on our path, faint and indistinct.

Ghosts, whispered Rhea.

Ghosts?

What the hell now? whimpered Cori, echoing my own thoughts.

Climb on my back, said Rhea.

Both of us stared at her. What?

This isn’t the time for secrecy, said Rhea. Faerie’s attacking this realm. We’re at war.

And she shifted again. A second later, her grey gargoyle form stood in her place.

I let Cori climb in front of me then followed, my hands carefully guiding her between Rhea’s feathered wings. I’d never even flown in a plane before, but a strange sense of calm briefly rose as Rhea left the ground, strong wings beating. The buildings and roads dropped away, and my senses surged in a way they never had before—yet still felt intimately familiar. Like reliving a memory.

A large black shape appeared ahead of us in the sky. More than one. Worse, the fog remained as thick as ever, filled with transparent faces. Were spirits from Death attacking us as well? Rhea dropped to avoid them, screeching in pain as something struck her arm, nearly knocking Cori and me out of the air.

Rhea’s guttural gargoyle cry cut through the air as she dived—not a minute too soon. The sky was thick with black horses, moving too fast for me to see who rode them. Snarling beasts followed, hounds the same size as Rhea’s gargoyle form or bigger. I hung on with one hand and gripped Cori’s jacket with the other. She’d buried her head in Rhea’s feathers, sobbing in terror.

We landed on the road, Rhea’s clawed feet tearing at the tarmac. Right now, I’d take the monsters on the ground over those in the air. But there were enough of them down here. Shadowy, clawed creatures appeared, tearing into anyone who got too close.

I grabbed my knife, positioning myself to cover Cori’s back. The nearest Underground station was metres away. It seemed stupid to go there, considering the collapsed roof, but supernaturals had access to a network of tunnels nobody else used. They’d get us to a safe house.

As we reached the entrance to the Underground, a group of figures poured out. All wore black in a horrifyingly familiar ensemble.

The Orion League. Hunters. Masked, dressed in black, and armed heavily.

We carried on running. We didn’t have much choice.

The first bullet whistled over my head, raising my hair, and struck the nearest car-sized beast, a fearsome creature which appeared to be made of solid tree bark. Another three followed. Bang. Bang. Bang. In the time it took to blink, the beast fell. Holy shit. Even at full power, it’d take several shifters to bring down a creature that size.

The hunters fanned out, as though they’d rehearsed the formation a thousand times. Locking onto their next opponent.

Us.

They’re trying to kill us. Either they thought we were the enemy, too, or they wouldn’t miss the chance to take down a supernatural. The thick street-level smog wasn’t enough to hide us, even running as fast as we were.

Bang. The hair rose from my skull and my heart stopped, but they’d aimed at another shifter who’d tried to make a run for the Underground. We weren’t the only ones attempting to escape via that route.

The shifter—gargoyle—made a choked noise and fell to the road. One single shot to the throat had brought him down. The hunters hadn’t even broken formation.

Oh god.

Three wolves had nearly reached the Underground when two hunters abruptly swung around, firing at them. Not at the faeries, but at the shifters trying to escape. My stomach lurched. Two of the wolves were smaller than average. Children. Stop!

Rhea grabbed my arm and hauled me back, not a second too soon. The other wolf—their mother—roared at the others to run, but it was too late. Two shots fired, each hitting one of the smaller wolves in the skull. The bullets killed instantly no matter where they struck, but it was an execution tactic the hunters used to show their lack of mercy. As they turned their aim onto the mother wolf, another fired at us.

I dragged Cori back into the smoke, out of the way. Protective rage exploded inside me, and my claws broke free. Thick red scales spread from my elbows to my wrists, ending in curved claws roughly the length of my forearm. The nearest hunter fired on me, but I ducked, pushing Cori behind me. Rhea hadn’t transformed back into her gargoyle form yet. If she did, she’d make a bigger target.

Bang. The mother wolf was dead. Magic bullets, as we called them—ironically, because they were as poisonous to magic users as iron was to faeries—could even kill a shifter in beast form, with a single shot. Nothing in our training had prepared us for open combat with them.

Get Cori into the tunnel! Rhea shouted. Run!

Before her words sank in, she’d thrown herself into the fray, turning into her gargoyle form again. Talons lashed out at the hunters, breaking their formation and giving us the chance to escape. At close range, some opted for other weapons than guns—knives with razor edges, designed to cause permanent damage to shifters. I’d seen pictures, heard stories, but I’d never been so close to death before.

Cori clung to my side as I ran through the gap into the station, fear pounding through my chest. Hard scales spread higher up my arms, and I fought for control. Unleashing my full form might be the death of us all.

A terrible scream tore through the air, a beast in awful pain. Behind the bodies of the dead wolves, Rhea’s eyes met mine as she fell, her last word reverberating in my head: run. They’d cut off her wings, tore into them with those razor knives of theirs. As she dropped to her knees, three guns pointed at her skull. A roar of rage rose inside me and tears scalded my eyes as the sound of destruction drowned out the echo of three bullets hitting our mentor.

Bastards! Cori screamed. Her own claws burst from her hands as she lunged forward, but I grabbed the back of her jacket, my claws snagging in the fabric.

No. We have to go—we’re outnumbered.

Tears tracked down my face as we ran into the Underground. The station floor was cracked, but most people must have fled for the open, leaving the way ahead well open. I helped Cori clamber over the ruins, pushing down the scream building in my chest like a fireball intent on being unleashed.

My breath burned my lungs. My legs screamed. But Cori—she and I would live.

Then another group of hunters ran in, from the opposite direction.

I pulled Cori into the broken-down entryway of a shop, praying nobody would look our way. The group ran past, already firing on the approaching fae creatures. I held my breath and tried to retract my claws, the fear and panic churning inside me with an endless message—danger. My teeth clenched and felt odd inside my mouth. Oh no. Now wasn’t a great time to fully shift. Every shifter knew the first time was the most painful, and often ended in passing out. If I did, I might die—and Cori would be alone.

The hunters had almost reached the door when one of them turned back. My heart sank as he began to walk our way. He shouldn’t be able to see us. The heightening of my senses warned me I didn’t have the beast reined in, not at all. I hid my clawed hands behind my back, but Cori…

You, he whispered, pointing the gun at both of us.

I shook my head. No…

I moved in front of Cori as the bullet ripped through the air. No time to duck or dodge the attack. At least my death would win her a few seconds—

The fireball building in my chest exploded. Wings burst into life behind my shoulder blades, and my body extended to six feet. My wings beat, carrying me off the ground—and the bullet clipped past me.

A torrent of fire roared from my mouth, and the hunters fled in its wake. It wasn’t enough. Anger tore through me, but the door was in the way, and my wings collided with the low ceiling. Pain reverberated through every cell in my body, blurring my vision, stopping my breath.

I roared, even as my vision blurred and my legs gave way, collapsing into human ones again… my body cried out for a reprieve, but the hunters were gone… they’d gone.

Then all was still.

2

TWO YEARS LATER

"E mber! Cori called out. This is our place."

You sure? I climbed over the garden wall to join her. Even if anyone still lived in the dilapidated house in front of us, they’d happily let us onto their property to catch whichever creature had left claw marks all over the garden. Long thin gouges marked the lawn, churning the rain-damp mud into patterns. Damn. That’s not a fire imp.

Unless they’ve grown a lot bigger than we’re used to. Cori poked the claw-print with her foot. Three prongs. Some kind of bird. Images of wings flashed through my head, and my fire stirred inside me like a rattle in my chest. I pushed it down. My dragon would only get to fight as a last resort.

A dragon was still a rare sight, but humans had adapted pretty well to their whole world being overturned. Considering half London’s population had been wiped out in the faeries’ invasion, they were damn good at surviving to have rebuilt so much. That day, two years ago, I’d thought things couldn’t get worse.

The universe stamped out that notion pretty quickly.

For one, our home had been wiped out, along with Rhea and most of the shifters who’d frequented it. Though the invasion itself had lasted only a day, the faeries remained behind, and nobody had been able to avoid the carnage. Supernaturals the world over had lost the secrecy we’d cherished for thousands of years. The mages were gradually beginning to get the riots under control, but disgruntled humans were the least of anyone’s problems. Unfortunately, they were the ones offering us a huge bonus for extracting the monster tearing up the street. Mystery missions were my least favourite, but on the plus side, the bigger the monster, the bigger the payment. Cori and I, like many people, had lost all our possessions, so we’d relied on other shifters’ charity until we’d found a new home. Steady work was a pipe dream, so we did what we could.

I crept around the side of the house, looking out. From the size of the footprints, the creature couldn’t have gone far without causing a disturbance. It definitely wasn’t inside the house, unless it was a shapeshifter of some kind.

A rustling noise came from the bushes, but it was only Cori, perching on the garden wall with her bright hair a splash of colour against the damp garden. This wasn’t the life she’d have chosen, before, but she wanted to pay back the shifters who’d helped us as badly as I did. The shifters who’d saved our necks after Rhea had died. Loss remained, an aching sense in my chest. Reminders of her were everywhere, but I didn’t shut them out or look the other way. When you didn’t have many years of memories, you’d better believe I cherished the good ones.

Rhea had always said she’d give up her life for us, but it’s one thing to hear those words and quite another to watch someone you love killed right in front of you. Cori had lost some of her shine that day. I missed the days when I’d had to chase her down because she got curious and wandered outside onto the streets. Now, it took a lot of coaxing to bring her outside. ‘Mysterious monster attacking people on the street’ wasn’t the best of incentives, but Cori’s sense of adventure had begun to return. Also, if this turned out to be a lone shifter, both of us had the same protective instincts towards our kind.

Twice, I’d accidentally caught a shifter who’d been mistaken for one of the faeries, and my conscience had urged me to let them go, forfeiting a potential payment. I only caught monsters from Faerie. That was my rule. Shifters had a bad reputation amongst other supernaturals, most of which was unfounded. Certain species, like wolves, were sensitive to the lunar cycles and lost all reason during nights of the full moon. Most of them had moved out of the city into rural areas where they’d be less likely to fall prey to the hunters. Because, as if things weren’t dire enough already, the Orion League had survived. They were too damn good at hiding themselves to get taken out—and besides, the Mage Lords had bigger problems, like keeping the faeries from invading again. No hunter would be stupid enough to target the mages, who were protected by their money and property and strength in numbers. Instead, we were the targets.

I keep getting the scent, but I can’t pick up where it’s coming from, I said, prowling forward.

Will was perched on the roof watching the sky, as our lookout—a good role for a gargoyle shifter. He looked for all the world like a statue, six feet tall, winged and menacing with long claws. The top hat perched on his head kind of ruined the intimidating impression, though. It’d started as a joke, but was also a signal so we knew who he was. Some of the other local gargoyles weren’t friendly.

On cue, Will made a noise somewhere between a pterodactyl shriek and a train as he moved positions on the roof.

He’s the least convincing bird ever, snickered Cori.

But we know it’s him. I looked over my shoulder. Where’s Becks?

Around the corner, said Cori. You’re supposed to have enhanced senses. Honestly.

I’m too focused on sniffing out our mysterious giant bird.

I spotted Becks’s sleek wildcat form approach, disappearing mid-step to turn into a woman in her mid-twenties with possible Iranian or Middle Eastern heritage—like us, she was an orphaned shifter who didn’t fully know her own background. She thought she was half-shifter, or maybe three-quarters, but in human form, the only sign of her ability to transform into a cat was the slight ombre effect on her hair, which faded from dark brown on top to light brown at the roots. Shifting forms didn’t mean losing our clothes, luckily. Don’t ask me why. Unfortunately for Becks, she’d been in human form when she’d lost her glasses two years ago during the invasion, and had never been able to replace them. She made up for her short-sightedness by punching twice as hard.

Most cat or wolf shifters didn’t get along with dragons, even though there were so few of us. Something primitive in their nature reacted to being too close. Probably because, you know, dragons eat smaller predators. But we’d bonded with Becks after we’d found her in the ruins of one of our old hideouts a day or two after the faeries had arrived. Will had shown up later when we’d run afoul of a gargoyle gang while looking for a new shelter. Neither seemed to mind that we were dragon shifters. Becks had seen my claws and worked it out, while Will had eavesdropped on one of my whispered conversations with Cori when we thought she might be close to shifting. It was hard to keep secrets from a gargoyle. Luckily, he was one of the good guys.

I’ve checked every room of the house, she said. Unless it’s a shifter in human form, they can’t be hiding near here. I’d be able to smell them, even if I can’t see them.

Must be a faerie, I said. Those footprints sure didn’t come from a human.

Might be a hoax? Cori suggested hopefully. None of us had known we might be facing off against a giant bird monster when we’d left the house, following the call Will had got that morning.

We should be so lucky, said Becks. We need the money, anyway.

Yeah, we do. I don’t like this place, though. Cori looked around. Isn’t it just down the road from the place the hunters used to hang out?

They haven’t come here in years, said Becks.

Unless they’re after the beast, too, said Cori.

Relax, I told her. The League isn’t here. Even now, right by an area once off limits because of patrolling hunters, we were more likely to be eaten by a passing faerie than shot at by hunters. I still watched my back, as did Cori, as we finished circling the house’s perimeter.

The mages had put in a statement a few weeks after assuming leadership dictating that half-faeries and the other fae creatures were to be under the same human rights as other supernaturals unless they broke the law. The rule had saved hundreds of innocent half-faeries from being trampled by an angry mob, but wild fae were sneaky bastards and some were more than happy to snack on unsuspecting humans. Which meant hiring people accustomed to dealing with supernaturals to take them out. That’s where we came in.

A faint smell tingled in my nostrils, and a growl rumbled in my chest. I trusted my instincts. Something was off. The weird scent persisted, like smoke lingering after a fire. Familiar, yet not something I could name. I paused beside a bush behind the garden wall, and climbed over.

Ember? Cori came over to me.

I can smell something different, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from, I said. Dragons didn’t have as clear a sense of smell as say, wolves, but it bugged me that I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

I smell, it too. She pushed branches aside, and I helped, revealing metal. A lid covering…

A secret tunnel?

Curiosity stirred. My dragon was entirely too interested at finding out what someone had wanted to hide in an underground chamber. Rationally, I knew the dragon wasn’t a different person—just a more impulsive side to me. Most other shifters slipped between forms like changing outfits. Will spent hours hanging out with other gargoyle shifters. Becks made friends with all the local cats. But dragons were unusual enough to be a security risk even in normal circumstances. Or a fire hazard, at least.

I hesitated before lifting the lid. Sure, a lot of shifters survived by hiding in tunnels, but my dragon brain was hard-wired for open skies and vast spaces, not stifling air and darkness. The drop wasn’t steep, but I’d need to walk at a crouch to make room for the others.

Becks leaned over my shoulder, peering into the dark.

Whatever made those footprints can’t be hiding down there. The gap’s too small, I said.

Maybe, said Becks, but if it’s a shifter and they’ve turned human again… they might be. It’s worth a look. I can’t see at all, though. If I go down there, I might not be able to get out again.

I don’t like the looks of it, said Cori. Ember, are you sure?

Not really. I didn’t like the look of the cramped space, either, but if there was a frightened shifter stuck down there in the dark, I needed to be sure. No scents warned me of danger. I’d be able to sense if there were faeries around. I carefully lowered myself into the hole, then let go with both hands. It was around five and a half feet deep, so I had to duck my head to properly see.

Can’t hear anyone, I said.

Ember, this isn’t your best idea, said Becks.

Maybe not, but it’s all we’ve got. We’ve checked every other hiding place. Can you look for other tunnel entrances like this? If our target’s hiding underground, we might be able to corner them that way.

I didn’t like the word. Targets. Like we were to the hunters—menaces to be shot down and hung on the walls as trophies.

I’d walked—crouching—for a few metres before footsteps came from behind. Cori had followed me. I indicated she be quiet and walked on.

My night vision picked out an odd shape ahead in the dark. I trod on damp brick as I made my way closer, grimacing as filthy water swirled high enough to cover my boots. The odd scent grew stronger. Like incense burning. Like…

Moonbeam leaves.

Aka, shifter catnip.

A rustling sounded ahead, and my first glimpse of a black-clad figure in the dark sent me scrambling back several steps.

Cori, I whispered, cursing inwardly when the sound carried further than I’d have liked. Out. Now.

Panic flashed in her eyes when she realised I was serious, and we swiftly retraced our steps to the ladder. I let Cori climb ahead of me. The scent of the hunters washed over me—the smell of metal and copper, a nauseating mix. They were here, in the tunnel? They didn’t travel underground. That was our domain. The rumble of fire in my chest mingled with a too-familiar sense of alarm—the hunters hadn’t seen what they were hunting yet, but they must have guessed there were shifters in the area. Otherwise they wouldn’t have left the bait. As soon as I transformed, they’d go for the kill. Regular shifters were no prize. The hunter who brought back the head of a dragon would be showered with riches for the rest of their life.

But they shouldn’t know what we were. I hadn’t fully shifted since that awful day two years ago.

Cori pulled herself out of the ground and I followed. Sure, these guys were trained assassins, but shifters moved quicker. That’s the reason so many of us are still alive. Whatever the hunters were doing underground, I wasn’t about to stick around and find out.

Cori and I ran from the garden. Becks had turned into cat form again and led the way, full-out sprinting down the road.

That’s when the second group of hunters ran around the corner.

3

Will took flight with a deafening shriek, drawing all attention to him. His stone gargoyle form was tough enough to take a fair few hits, but the bullets the hunters used were deadly to all supernaturals. They’d do a fair bit of damage to a human, too. Get out of here! I thought at him. There were five hunters in the second group. Too many for us to fight.

Did they know we were coming? How?

I motioned to Cori to run ahead of me, covering her back as we sprinted for safety. We’d made it ten feet before one of the hunters realised the gargoyle had distracted them on purpose. Bang. Cori gasped, and my heart stopped beating for a moment—but the shot had missed. We rounded the corner, hoping Becks had the sense to stay hidden or run away in shifter form. I tugged my hood up, but they’d all seen me already.

We’d been set up. Someone had tipped them off.

Paranoid theories ricocheted around my head. We can’t lead them home. A group this big would be tricky to shake off, especially here. We needed to make for a crowded place and lose them there. The League still relied on secrecy to stop supernaturals from finding them. They didn’t want to make a spectacle, in case the Mage Lords realised how much of a threat they presented. But the idea of the mages helping was absurd as the idea of rooting all the faeries out of town. The hunters were too widespread, impossible to track down, and had countless hiding places. Plus, those instant-kill bullets would take out even the most powerful supernatural.

As the hunters closed in, they spread out, one of them grabbing for me. I snarled and lashed out with my knives, narrowly avoiding another shot from the gun. Blood sprayed out from his arm as my knife connected. I kicked at him, struggling to reel in my dragon form—if I transformed, that was it. I’d blow our cover, and the whole city would know what Cori and I were. They’d hunt us down and hand us over to our enemies, or kill us to make an example. I didn’t want to find out which.

My heavy combat boot struck the hunter on the nose with a crunch, but he grabbed for my foot, trying to unbalance me. I twisted out of his grip and kicked his knee, knocking him down, then kicked him in the ribs. He had to be in a great deal of pain, but didn’t make a sound. Hunters had a freakishly high pain tolerance. Rumour said their initiation involved walking on hot coals in the dark.

Shifter scum, he growled as I wrestled the gun from his hands and turned it on him. His eyes dared me to shoot. My claw fumbled the trigger as part of me fought against killing by using their execution-style tactic used against shifters like me. But my claws were far too big and clumsy to pull the trigger anyway. I crushed the gun into powder and knocked him out with a hammer-like hit to the skull.

Leaping to my feet, I ran to help Cori, who fought another hunter alongside Becks. She’d made him drop his gun, and I quickly disposed of the weapon by crushing it in my claw. The assassin reached for a second weapon in his belt, but Becks dug her claws into his face and he yelped, hands flying up to pry her off him. I took the opportunity to kick at his shins. He went down, hard, Becks slashing at his face. He rolled to his front to avoid her, and Cori’s foot stamped down on his hand before he grabbed his weapon. He twisted around, trying to kick at us, but his leg was tangled in my claw. He screamed as I pierced through to the bone. He wouldn’t be walking again anytime soon.

Another had fallen to Becks’s claws. Two more assassins remained. I leaped at one of the remaining masked figures, stabbing them in the chest. No second chances. We couldn’t leave any of them alive—especially since they’d seen my distinctive claws. Now they were sheathed in blood, they might have belonged to any animal—but no wildcat had claws this long and sharp. Becks took the second hunter down, but a scream chilled my blood. Cori. Two more assassins had backed her up against the garden wall. A third group? No—the ones from underground. They’d climbed out of another tunnel exit further down the road.

Shit. We were outnumbered.

Bloodlust rang through me, a reminder that my ancestors survived by killing anything that strayed into their path. But I couldn’t kill this many, not without getting hit—or worse, losing Cori.

A growling noise came from my left. I caught a glimpse of claws, and then Becks was on them in a giant leap. I joined her, fighting the sense of futility—sooner or later, one of us would be hit. A bullet whistled past my head, and I ducked, my heart thudding.

A deafening bang shook the whole area. Thanks, Will. His gargoyle form might be scary, but he was also half-witch and made a damn good defensive spell. The noise made the hunters turn their guns on him instead, as he flew around the rooftops. The average gargoyle was a fearsome sight to behold—around six feet long, grey, with leathery wings and a curved beak designed to tear at flesh. Will was as harmless as it was possible to be for something so frightening-looking, but he’d distracted the hunters enough that they wanted to take him out first.

A bullet clipped over Will’s head. While the hunter took aim again, I dived at him, my claws piercing his gun hand, forcing him to drop the weapon. When he’d stopped moving, I grabbed the gun and twisted it into a lump of metal.

A scream from behind me. Two hunters held Cori, their weapons pointed at her neck.

Let her go! My voice came out in a low growl, more animal than human. My control threatened to snap, but if I shifted—they’d kill her. No question.

Come with us, shifter, one of them said. Or the little one dies.

More climbed over the fence. Ten. Eleven. Too many for a patrol. They’d planned this. Someone betrayed us.

They would pay.

As the hunters closed in, hands tugged at me. Too many hands. They’d all converged on me at once, and I lost sight of the others in a frenzy of blood and desperation. My claws hit everything that moved, tearing through flesh and bone, my human instincts repressed entirely. Nothing mattered but finding my sister. By the time I shoved a hunter’s limp arm off me, I found I was alone.

They’d taken her. Cori was gone.

Becks pelted down the street with a yowl, ending beside the open cover of a hole in the ground. She pointed with one paw, hissing in anger, then jumped down into the dark. There they are.

With a snarl, I ran to join her. I fell several feet into the tunnel and landed on my feet only because of the tight space. Filthy water swirled around my ankles, but no sign of the hunters—not so much as a bloodstain—remained.

I ran several metres down the tunnel, but came to a dead end. Packed earth blocked my path, the sort that had been here a while. Not a hastily constructed barrier. There had never been a way out. They’d gone. Their scent remained, but they’d disappeared. Like they’d evaporated into thin air.

My clawed hands curled into fists as I struck the wall, again and again. A sob choked my throat, lodged in my chest, as tears burned my eyes. I’d sworn to protect Cori. Somehow, the League had got right into our network and hunted us down.

My claws dug gouges in the grimy wall as I hauled myself onto the road again. They might have run in any of ten directions. This area was a rabbit’s warren of streets, old houses juxtaposed with modern ones. The hunters knew the city better even than the taxi drivers did.

Will? I called out. My leg was bleeding pretty badly, and it hurt to bend forward. Broken ribs? Dragons were tough, but the only scales on my body were on my hands when I partially shifted. Becks?

She jumped down from the fence, turning human again. The filthy water from the tunnel had plastered her hair to her face, and she looked distraught. I didn’t see where they took her. I—I swore they were underground again, but that water got in my eyes and—I panicked.

Where’s Will?

A pterodactyl screech drew our attention to the sky. Will descended in more of a fall than a glide, collapsing into human form against the fence. Clumps of blond hair were matted to his forehead with blood, but it looked like a surface wound.

Shit, I said, running to him. Are you okay? They didn’t shoot you, did they?

If they did, I’d be a permanent decoration on one of these fancy houses. No, they didn’t. But I saw them. That way. I can’t fly—you’ll have to run.

He pointed north. I ran, pushing my bleeding leg to its limits. Becks transformed into a cat again, scurrying down the road as fast as she could.

Fury seared my veins. I’d never thought my mind would zero in so quickly on a single notion: kill them.

Kill them. Kill them. My nails bit into my palms, turning into claws. Scales had begun to cloak my hands. Keeping my other self contained was impossible at this point. Cori’s disappearance lifted the lid on the emotions I normally kept caged. I’d been so terrified to lose anyone else, I hadn’t dared fully shift since that day. In case it brought the hunters back.

I ran into a black-clad assassin, knocking both of us over. My claws smacked off the tarmac, inches from his neck. Gotcha.

A bullet shot over my head. One of the others had spotted me. Becks ran at them, yowling loudly. My captive took the opportunity to wriggle free from my grip and turn on me. A pair of green eyes glared into mine, and for a heartbeat, I stared at the man who’d shot at me two years ago.

Tousled chestnut hair, longer and more tangled than last time, framed his narrow face. Pure anger suffused his expression. We both moved at the same time. His wrist grabbed mine, hard, and I kicked at him. He missed. I didn’t. The momentum sent me crashing down on top of him. I punched, and he dodged my clawed blow, rolling to the side to try and buck me off. On a normal human, that’d probably have worked, but my claws dug into the tarmac, keeping him pinned. We were equally matched. He’d most likely had more training, but I’d struck first, and it gave me the advantage.

You bitch, he growled.

Nice to see you, too, I said, and went for the throat.

He moved suddenly, and pain exploded in my leg. He’d knocked into the stab wound. The assassin cursed and shoved me off him, but my claw’s grip still held. I swiped at his face, blood spurting from his jaw, but I’d missed hitting anything vital.

A bullet whistled over our heads. He swore under his breath and rolled free of me as I was forced to move my claw to avoid being hit.

Don’t you dare.

I tackled him around the waist, unintentionally saving both of us from another bullet. The hunters apparently didn’t care about hitting their ally. He was swearing, trying to wriggle free of me, but my claws dug into the back of his jacket. He twisted, fury burning in his eyes, fighting against my grip with more tenacity than I’d expect from a human. Shifters were supposed to be stronger. Fire burned inside my throat. I gritted my teeth, trying to fight it off. His foot connected with my leg. I gasped, eyes watering. Blood soaked my jeans where I’d been stabbed. This was it. He’d pull out his magic gun and then—

No. I kicked upwards, viciously, and caught him in the fork of his legs. His breath escaped in a gasp, and then I was on him again. My foot smashed into his ribs, and I heard a cracking sound, though he didn’t scream. But the blood loss made my vision swim and slowed my instincts down.

He lunged at me, blood dripping down his face, and knocked me down onto my injured leg. My vision blacked out for a second, and the next, Becks had landed in front of me, transforming back into human form.

Ember! They shot you?

No, I mumbled. Don’t let him get away. He’s—one of them.

Blackness descended like a sweeping wing.

4

Consciousness returned piece by piece. My whole body felt like I’d been dragged around by an elephant. A fragrant smell filled my nostrils. Healing spell. Nobody was supposed to use those. They were for emergencies only.

Shit.

Cori’s disappearance hit me like a claw to the heart. I failed her. I pressed my hands to my eyes, stifling a sob, then sat up, wincing at the pain. The healing spell had taken care of the stab wound, but not the rest of my injuries. Blood plastered my jeans to my leg. The others must have brought me back here. But it was dark outside now, a thick fog rolling through the street. Like the day of the invasion. My breath caught in my throat. Calm, Ember. You can’t help Cori while you’re panicking. I grabbed some clean clothes and limped to the bathroom. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I fumbled to turn the shower on. Bruises covered my body, but I was lucky it wasn’t worse. We were well practised at avoiding hunters’ bullets by now. Too bad it hadn’t helped.

I showered quickly, going through the motions as I tried to figure out what the hell to do. The hunters operated all over the city, and they might have taken Cori anywhere. They wouldn’t have killed her, not yet. Unless she’d shifted.

I clenched my fists and squeezed my eyes shut, a few tears escaping and mingling with the water. Not now. My baby sister needed me. I’d bring her back, and rain hell down on the hunters who’d taken her from me.

That plan went against everything Cori and I had practised over the last—well, forever. There were no second chances when one of the League shot you. If I dragged anyone else along on the rescue mission, they’d be fair game as well.

Anger churned inside me. Giving up was out of the question. Even though they might not necessarily know Cori was a dragon shifter yet—it’d hardly be their first assumption—the moment she broke and told them the truth, she’d be dead.

I swallowed, tasting bile. Cori had never shifted before. The first transformation was the most painful and exhausting, and if not for her being there the day I transformed in the Underground, I’d have died when I fell unconscious. If they… if they forced her to shift…

I tugged my clothes into place, retrieving my knives from where someone had put them on my bedside table. Cori’s bed was still unmade, covers tangled from where she’d tossed and turned last night before crawling into bed beside me like we were kids again. She’d had bad dreams every night since the invasion. And now she’d be spending the night in a cell. Or worse.

I bit my hand to stop myself screaming. Shifting took a lot out of you, and I was still weak from blood loss. Walking out after dark would make me a target for more than hunters. Even a dragon can’t stand up to Faerie’s vicious night creatures. Nobody went out at night except mercenaries desperate to grab an easy kill to feed their families. And even if I momentarily put Cori’s disappearance aside, things looked pretty dire for us. If someone had tracked down our work number and used it to lure us into a trap, every single shifter we’d worked with might be a target by association.

Becks met me on the stairs. Ember. You’re awake.

At her side stood Will, now in human form—tall, lanky, with floppy blond hair and a surprising lack of coordination compared to his gargoyle form. As a half-witch, he was lucky he could take on a fully shifted form. He was twenty-six and acted half his age, so seeing him look this serious added a new gravity to the situation.

Are you okay? asked Becks. I wasn’t sure whether to use a healing spell or not. We’re running low. Will had to fly off and lose the assassins’ trace. He’s too recognisable.

Obviously, she means that in a good way, added Will. I flew for a mile in the wrong direction to send them astray. You were napping the whole time?

Hey, passing out isn’t all fun and games. My mouth tasted like sawdust, and the only reason I wasn’t keeling over was because the healing spell had dampened some of the side effects. You weren’t supposed to waste a healing spell on me.

You were bleeding to death. That guy did some major damage.

Becks gave me a grim smile. But he got what was coming to him.

Who, the assassin? A pair of green eyes flashed before me. Shit. He knows who I am.

Don’t worry, she said. He’s not going anywhere.

I frowned. Wait, he’s here?

Becks and Will exchanged glances. Well, yeah, said Will. Before you passed out, you said, ‘don’t let him get away’. Right?

I stared at both of them. Right. I did. What did you do to him?

Kicked him a little and tied him up in the basement.

They tied up a hunter? Wait—he knows where our hideout is?

We stuck a blindfold on him. He didn’t like that. Oh yeah, and we stole his phone and took his weapons away, don’t worry. Will sounded absurdly pleased with himself.

I shook my head. My friends were more resourceful than I’d given them credit for, but what in hell were we meant to do with a hunter in the basement? Even if he hadn’t seen our hideout, he knew our names and faces. If he got out, he might tell any of his companions. Right. Next time I’m losing consciousness, ignore everything I say.

Becks’s forehead wrinkled. You didn’t want… but I thought he might know what his buddies are planning to do with Cori. That’s why I thought you asked us to bring him in. We couldn’t let him go, not now he’s seen us. It was that or kill him, and he might have information.

She was right. He might know. We shouldn’t let a potential asset slip through our grasp, not with Cori’s life at stake.

The other hunters aren’t near here, added Becks. They were heading the other way. I swear I’ve never seen so many in one place before.

Nor me, I said. They were onto us. I know it. Question is, was it our little friend downstairs who ratted us out? He’s seen me before.

Wait, he has? Becks’s eyes widened, while Will didn’t say anything. That he was being so quiet freaked me out more than the fact that they’d tied up the hunter and put him in our basement.

On the day of the invasion. As though I’d ever forget it. He—he was there when they killed Rhea. When I shifted. He knows what Cori and I are. If he told his buddies…

He won’t have had the chance to, said Will. Becks knocked him out. His friends had scattered. I think we caught the tail end of the group. Cori wasn’t with them.

I know. I’d have seen her. I swallowed, my eyes burning. I can’t believe this.

We can kill him, said Becks. But it’s difficult to dispose of a body here…

Leave him in the park, I said. The faeries can eat him. But that would leave us without a possible lead.

If you say so, said Will. But… did he know your name? Might he have alerted the others? I didn’t see him speak to any of them, but the view was kinda confusing from where I was.

And I—well. My eyesight isn’t the greatest. Becks shook her head.

He wasn’t with the two groups who cornered us, I said. "We killed or incapacitated most of