Dragon Lost: Legacy of Dragons, #2

By Sean Fletcher

A lone dragon is a vulnerable dragon, and the Slayers are closing in…

Kaden shouldn't have left. Not the guilds. Not Astrid when she needed him most.

But the deadly Slayer Nico is working on his next plan to destroy the dragon-kin, and Kaden is determined to take him down, no matter the cost.

Astrid's searching too, for the Slayers, for Kaden, and for answers about the mysterious visions she's having and voices she's hearing. A poison has left her full dragon magic more unstable than ever, and the Convocation's creepy new trainer is only making things worse.

Desperate, Astrid is forced to seek help from the very person who tried to kill her. She knows he has sinister motives of his own, but she'll have to play his game if she wants a chance to save Kaden, and all dragon-kin, before it's too late.

Dragon Lost is the second book in the fast-paced YA fantasy Legacy of Dragons series. If dragon shifters, twisting mysteries, and a slow burn enemies-to-lovers romance, the epic world of Legacy of Dragons is one you won't want to put down!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sean Fletcher
• Release date: Aug 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227697202

Book preview

THE FALL OF DRAGONS

Dragons are apex predators. At least they used to be, back when true dragons existed and the dragon-kin were still a fledging group. Back before the Slayers rose to power.

It is no wonder why dragons carried such a fearsome reputation. Dragons are bigger—much bigger—than any other species. They have a frightening amount of teeth, near-impenetrable scales, and magic beyond that which even our most trained Merlins can hope to master. An angry dragon could level a mountain as easily as it could torch a city. Most could fly, swim, burrow, and remain hidden for years, biding their time.

And still, they’re all gone now. How is this possible?

Because (and my colleagues agree) dragons had one fatal flaw that could be exploited. They were, by nature, loners. That was their downfall. Even the most fearsome lion can be torn apart by the pride.

And even the mightiest dragon or dragon-kin, if alone, can still be slain.

--Extracted from Wonderful Wyverns and their Demise (Author’s preferred text) by Elias Monroe

CHAPTER ONE

KADEN

After a week of searching—of sleeping in the cramped backseat of my car, of trying to blink myself awake after hours of staring at the open road, of always, always, always questioning what I’d done—I’m finally closing in on my targets.

I ease my 1966 Shelby around the next rain-slicked corner. The muscle car’s ridiculous growl coaxes me to stamp on the gas and hurry things up. I resist the urge. If I crash out here, nobody will be by to help for a long while. I’m very much alone.

The wipers part the rain enough to see the barest hint of the gravel road. I pull off and the headlights paint the trees that hem the narrow track. The wipers continue carving away the worsening downpour as I peer ahead. The woman—a Merlin with no Convocation affiliation—told me she’d seen my quarry pass through the last town and go this way. Three of them: a stocky guy with a shaved head and the face of a bulldog; a girl wearing a studded jacket and nails like claws; and the leader, gaunt, with tattoos crawling up one arm.

The woman hadn’t felt comfortable telling them she was a Merlin. Probably the reason she was alive to tell me.

What are you doing out here, Nico? I murmur into the damp silence.

I steer the car into the undergrowth off the path, out of sight of the highway. I shrug on my leather jacket, pulling the cuff over the tattoo circling my wrist. The scar on my face stretches from the cold as I grimace at the downpour.

"You’re really going to take them on alone?"

Astrid sits in the passenger seat. She flicks her blonde hair tipped with purple behind one ear. The bright color clashes with all the black she usually wears. Her eyes—with that soul of fire raging behind them—turns on me. Even you’re not that dumb.

And you’re not real, I mumble. I’m just sleep deprived and hallucinating.

Doesn’t mean I’m not right.

I rub my eyes. Bone-deep fatigue weighs me down and I see spots when I pull my hands away. He’s up to something new. Some worse plan. Or maybe it’s the same plan but I couldn’t stop him the first time. If I don’t stop him now⁠—

He’s always up to something new, Astrid interjects. The Convocation has Merlins and dragon-kin trained to fight people like him.

Not like him. Even you and I, with our unique shifting, couldn’t stop him.

Astrid tips her hand toward me, the edges of her fingers soft and inviting. "Whiiich brings me back to what I asked. You want to take him on alone? The Dracas guild could have helped you. Or the Tulvetet, Magos, heck, even Dankana, if they stop being jerks long enough. Her tone softens. I could have helped you."

I briefly squeeze my eyes shut. Hallucination or not, that nearly breaks me.

Astrid, I’m sorry I left without an explanation. I just…I wish I had one. There’s this…this ache inside me won’t go away and I don’t know what’s causing it. I had to go. To stop him. To prove…something. I don’t know what. That’s a garbage excuse, I know. I’m⁠—

The passenger seat is empty. Astrid is gone. The rain pounds like war drums on the roof.

Before I second-guess anymore, I practically throw myself out of the car and pull my collar up against the downpour. I grab my pre-packed gear from the trunk. Then I hike into the woods.

Despite the leafy canopy dampening the rain, I’m wet in minutes. And cold. I’m never cold. The dragon part of me always keeps me warmer than your average mundane. I’m cold now, though. Stupid sleep deprivation. Must be weakening my powers.

I keep hiking, looking for signs. The road leads to clusters of private pastureland soaked in rain, the ground thick with mud. The tall grass swishes around my legs and soaks my boots. A lone bird calls from the line of trees far across from me.

I shift my eyes to dragon sight and the world snaps into crystal-clear focus. Colors deepen, edges sharpen, things in the distance zoom closer.

After scanning my surroundings I spot it: there’s a second pasture about a half mile down with an abandoned barn or farmhouse built on it. A car is parked in front.

I shift my eyes back and bite my tongue. The urge to go over there right now claws at my insides.

Chump move, kid. You need to focus, plan, then attack. Unless you like your insides pureed, then by all means go ahead.

I shake my head as the voice of my mentor pops up. I really need to get some sleep if ghosts of my past are now making unwelcome introductions.

I return to the trees. I find a spot shielded on one side by a rock formation and start setting up camp. By the time I get a fire going, the rain has slackened and the night has traded places with the dusky light.

I slip into my sleeping bag and lie there, staring at the underside of my tarp. I turn over. Turn over again.

At last I pull out my phone and start at the last texts Astrid sent:

U coming to pick us up?

Holly says you left. Where r you???

Kaden, please tell me where you are

Then three missed calls before finally:

Why did you leave without saying goodbye?

I clench my phone so hard the plastic squeaks. All week I’ve wanted to text her back. But what would I say? The truth? That I don’t really know? Or more honestly, that I’d gotten too close. Too close to Astrid, to the guilds, to their belief, Astrid’s belief, that I was a good person. It was suffocating.

Still, my finger hovers over the Return Call button, then presses.

No Service

I stare at the blinking words before shutting the phone off and falling into a restless sleep.

I wake up with dawn on the horizon, heart pounding. As I pull myself up I can tell I’m still exhausted. A few hours’ rest isn’t going to help much, but I’m as ready as I’m going to be.

I pocket my phone but leave the rest of my things behind as I walk over to the farmhouse. It takes only a moment to scan the surroundings. The three of them came alone. No Slayer lackeys to back them up.

My hands shake but I clench them into fists and stride up the path the car made until I’m standing in front of the sagging porch.

Knock knock, I yell.

Hunter!

Jud’s come from around the side of the house, warily facing me. His beady eyes skip from me to over my shoulder. Come to die all by yourself?

I wave a dismissive hand. I’m here for Nico. I don’t need his pet.

Jud snarls. This is too easy. Any comment about Jud being Nico’s attack dog is guaranteed to get the guy riled up enough to make a mistake. I wait for him to cast his Slayer magic and come at me, but he still guardedly holds his ground. I frown.

Can you be a good boy and go fetch him, Jud?

He still doesn’t attack. This is weird. I’m not one to make fun of the intelligence anyone’s born with, but Jud’s always been governed more by violent impulse than rational thought.

I look closer. His wary stance. His hesitation to attack. The slightest waver in his voice when he spoke. It clicks and I laugh. "Are you scared of little ’ol me, Jud? I didn’t think you’d learned to be properly scared of anything."

Nico’s not here.

I stop laughing. Where is he?

It’s Jud’s turn to give an ugly laugh. Doing something far more important than dealing with you. You’re not his only problem.

I’m about to be his biggest problem, though.

He was so disappointed in you.

I stop walking toward Jud. Excuse me?

He expected a lot more from the Slayer’s Bane after all you’ve done. Jud’s normal, maniacal cackle returns. Me, I couldn’t care less as long as you’re dead. But Nico wanted a real fight. He wanted someone who could challenge him. So many of the dragon-kin and others in the Convocation have gone soft and breakable. But not you. He licks his lips. And not that treat that tags along with you. Sweet, ignorant little dragon-kin.

I grind my teeth together. Keep your dirty mouth shut.

Jud’s eyes flicker to my hands. You gonna stop me? Gonna shift into that dragon?

The reason for Jud’s hesitation becomes clear. Aw, does my big, bad dragon scare you? Well, if Nico isn’t here, then I’ll have to wait. In the meantime, you and I can settle our differences.

I shift my hands to claws. They remain strangely cold.

I look down at my hands. They’re still my normal, tanned, very human hands.

I try shifting again. Nothing. I can’t even shift to my dragon sight like I did last night.

My heart nearly stops. This can’t be happening.

Only brand new dragon-kin have trouble shifting. Not someone who’s been doing it for years. Certainly not right now, at the worst possible time.

Seems you’re having trouble, Slayer’s Bane.

Jud has a nasty grin on his face. He takes a step toward me, then another, growing bolder when it’s clear I can’t shift. Nico thought this might happen. He told us that shifting to your full dragon might change you, make it harder for a while. What’s the matter? Your witty bitty magic tired?

I stumble back as he stalks closer. I’m too shocked to be scared. This is a nightmare, and soon I’ll wake up, that’s all. Only, I feel every bit of the biting cold and the fear clenching my lungs. Something has gone terribly, horribly wrong.

Call me a pet again, Jud snarls. Go ahead, call me that one more time, just one, before I kill you.

I don’t call him that. I do what I used to never do and run.

Jud’s cackle rings in my ears, before being drowned out by the swishing grass as I tear through the pasture. Mud clings to my boots, weighing them down and making my legs burn. Air tears at my lungs.

I hear a short, high whistle.

A dark blur breaks through the grass on my right and slams into my side. There’s sharp pain as one of my ribs snaps. My body is weightless for the span of an agonizing breath before I hit the mud and roll to a stop. The stench of rancid flesh makes me want to vomit and I know exactly what’s attacked me before I raise my head.

A Hallow—one of the Slayer Brian’s hellish creations—paces in front of me. Sharpened teeth jut from a semi-elongated mouth dripping saliva. It’s the size of a man, covered entirely in dragon scales. And unlike the only other Hallow I’ve faced, this one looks fully formed and healthy.

I shove aside the pain in my ribs—I’ve had worse—and stagger to my feet. I have no dragon shifting and no knives, but I’ll be damned if I can’t still fight.

Looks like I’m not the pet anymore, am I? Jud rips aside the grass and stands beside the Hallow. His beady eyes glitter triumphantly. So call me that again, I dare you.

It seems you have a complex, Jud, I shoot off before my brain informs me that taunting him is a terrible idea. You should get that checked out. Whenever Nico lets you off the leash⁠—

Jud whistles and the Hallow leaps. I forget I don’t have scales a moment before its claws tear savage strips of flesh off the tops of my forearms. I swallow my scream and roundhouse kick it, only managing to bruise my foot against its armor-hard scales. The Hallow swivels its long body back around, but this time it’s Jud who attacks, barreling into me and throwing me to the ground.

Say it again! His knees pin my arms to the muddy ground while his meaty fist pounds my check. Open your filthy mouth and say it again!

My magic, my shifting, nothing is working. The only reason I’m still alive is Jud hasn’t used his Slayer magic and crushed my skull between his fingers. He wants me to suffer.

I can’t hear you!

A blood vessel ruptures behind my eye. My breathing is reduced to gurgling spit as he punches my throat, hits my arm so hard I hear a grisly snap. I’m all pain. Pain and regret that I didn’t say goodbye to Astrid. To anyone.

Jud raises both fists high over his head. He’s panting, face filled with mad fervor.

Come on. Say it one more time before I break your skull. You won’t ever call me that again. Not ever.

Blood leaks into my throat when I move my lips. Even opening my mouth is painful. My jaw might be broken. How ironic. Snark was arguably my greatest power and it’s one of the last things to leave me.

Jud sucks in a sharp, ragged breath. Fine then.

He brings his fists down.

CHAPTER TWO

ASTRID

The savage snout of the grizzly snarls down at me, baring every one of its immense teeth. Its paws, each the size of my face, are raised on either side, primed to carve me into mincemeat.

I tilt my head to the side, trying to figure out why he’s wearing a tuxedo.

Astrid? Aunt Carolyn’s voice comes from outside. Her light footsteps cross the wooden front porch and she enters the furnished living room of the cabin the Convocation is letting her stay in.

Letting us stay in, I correct myself. I’m still not used to that.

Astrid, where—oh, there you are, child. Have you picked out which room you’d like?

This sculpture is very…unique, I say. It’s an understatement. In the short week since I discovered my aunt Carolyn had even existed, I’ve gotten to know a little more about her. Mostly how she’s a former Merlin, an artist, and her art is, well…interesting.

He really wasn’t all that bad, Aunt Carolyn says.

I glance at her. She’s thrown her double-braided brown hair tinged with gray over her shoulder. The sleeves of her oversized sweater are pushed up to the elbows to better carry the box she’s holding. Is that right? I ask.

I’d gone out for a hike, you see, to paint on the edge of a river and do a little fishing. This fellow lumbers over and I thought for sure that was going to be the end of me. But after swiping a couple of my fish, he settled down and kept me company the rest of the day. Carolyn shifts the box to one arm and points with the other. That’s why I gave him a tuxedo. Because he was such a gentleman.

I laugh. I can’t pretend to understand exactly what her thought process was for any of her art, but there’s such kindness when she speaks that I can’t help but relax. My body’s been tense all day and I don’t think it’s going to get much better with what I have to do later today.

So have you picked which room? Carolyn asks again.

Are you sure you’ll still have enough space for all your art?

I told you, chi—Astrid: I’ll be building a studio for that soon enough. You’re living with me now, so this house is as much yours as it is mine.

My throat goes tight but I manage, I’ll take the one on the right, then.

Both of us carry the two boxes to the empty bedroom on the right side of the hall and plop them on the bed. Mid-morning sunlight streams through the window that gives me a perfect view of the idyllic woods bordering the small meadow. I still can’t believe anything like this exists so close to Rochester, but the Convocation loaned it to Carolyn with the promise it’d be safe from all Slayers. Well, all except for Nico. But he’s been gone, along with…

I force my clenching fingers to detach from the edge of the box. I help Carolyn shove her box to the center of the bed. On instinct, I find myself glancing at the room’s doorknob. Oh, there isn’t…

Carolyn looks, too. The lines in her face contort into a frown when she realizes what I’m looking for, and my heart clenches as I see parts of my mother in her. I’m afraid there’s no lock. But if it will make you feel safer⁠—

No, it’s all right, I say quickly. Force of habit, sorry. It’s not like a lock did anything whenever Harold was at home, anyway.

Carolyn’s lips turn into a thin white line. I don’t think there’s a violent bone in her kindly body, but even she has trouble keeping her emotions in check whenever I mention my stepfather. Her eyes move from one of my shoulders, over my head, to the other. Your aura is troubled. If you don’t feel like staying with me anymore…

No! That’s not it at all. It’s just the ceremony this afternoon.

Ah, of course. Guild inductions. She huffs. We never had such a thing when I was in the Convocation. Never had guilds either. Such ceremony at a time like this seems excessive. Especially since they were giving you such trouble.

That was an understatement. Ever since Kaden discovered I was a dragon-kin and brought me to the guilds, they’ve treated me as though I was the rope in an Astrid-themed tug of war to see which house the shiny new dragon-kin would join. After lots of arguing, me revealing my full dragon form for all the Convocation to see, and the leader of the Dankana guild, Luke, getting attacked, the Convocation finally wised up and decided that free choice was actually kind of a thing and let me pick the guild I wanted.

Yuki just left to pick up Holly, but they’ll be here to get me in a little bit, I say.

Carolyn runs a hand over her box. These are all of your things the Convocation brought from Ha—from his place?

Yep, that’s everything.

I see the barest tremble of Carolyn’s bottom lip and I know exactly what she’s thinking. I wrap her in a half hug on impulse. She’s warm and smells like lavender and grapefruit and sawdust from the carving she was working on earlier. It’s not your fault he wouldn’t let you see me.

I should have tried harder, Carolyn says. You were my only sister’s only child and I…If I’d just tried a bit harder. If I hadn’t been so afraid of coming back and facing those at the Convocation, then maybe I could have given you a better life after she died.

I haven’t asked much about Carolyn’s time with the Convocation. I know she was a Merlin, and that keeping that secret from my mom was what ultimately drove them apart.

Why did you move all the way up to Alaska? I ask. Kaden mentioned you’d had some trouble in the Convocation before you left, but did you go all the way up there because of my mom or something else?

I think I’ll go make some tea. Do you like chamomile? Of course you do, everyone does. I find it helps to soothe my stomach before anything nerve-racking, like talking to people or…facing life, I suppose. I’ll go make us some.

Aunt Carolyn pulls away from my embrace and shuffles out of the room. I stare at the doorway, feeling stupid. I pried too hard. I don’t begrudge Aunt Carolyn for being wary of talking about her past. Her honesty about how she felt unfit to be my guardian was partly what made me trust her more. It seems we’re both broken in our own ways and it’ll take time for us to open up.

It takes me all of five minutes to unpack everything (Aunt Carolyn was right, I really didn’t keep much at Harold’s house) and I start filling the sparse room with my various knickknacks. I hear Carolyn closing cabinets in the kitchen and the clatter of her putting a kettle on the stove. A moment later the wafting scent of tea tingles my nose, but everything’s gone quiet.

I pad out into the living room to find Aunt Carolyn near the window. She’s running her finger through the tassels of one of the many dream catchers ringing the fringes, her head turning back and forth as though following an invisible thread in the air.

It’s getting closer. Yes, closer, closer, so much closer. The power’s growing…and then what? Show me what happens next.

I take a cautious step forward. Aunt Carolyn?

I have no reason to believe Carolyn’s dangerous, but she is still a Merlin. I don’t want to mess up a spell or something and accidentally blow up half the cottage. Everything okay?

"What will they do when they have it? What can they do? Unless…No, not even they would dare. And over here… Her fingers move to the left. Another power rising, and it—no, that must be wrong. It can’t⁠—"

She suddenly snaps rigid as though emerging from a trance and whirls around. Astrid! I didn’t hear you, child. You’ll have to announce yourself next time. Or perhaps I can get you a bell, like I used to put on my beloved cat…

Did you see something? I scan the air but can’t pick up anything other than swirls of particles the sunlight cuts through, and the fact that the Convocation clearly forgot to dust the top of the ceiling fan. Were you sensing something? Did it have to do with the Slayers? Is the Convocation in danger? Did you see Kaden?

Astrid, Aunt Carolyn says firmly. She sighs. Forgive me, I lost myself there for a bit. No, I can’t sense anything, and very few Merlins can discern someone’s location.

Oh. I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice. But it sounded like you were seeing something. Predicting…

You’re talking about mystics and psychics and neither of those things exist, Aunt Carolyn says brusquely. Merlins may deal in magic but it is studied, solid, and as irrefutable as science. Not bogus, made up fluff. Would you like some tea?

My brain’s having trouble keeping up with all the one-eighties Aunt Carolyn’s throwing my way, but I nod and take the steaming mug she presses into my hands. She takes a sip of her own tea and makes an unrealistically loud noise of approval for what’s basically dirty water. Excellent blend, if I say so myself. I pick all the herbs from my garden. I managed to bring most of them down the first trip but the rest will just have to come later with the rest of my things.

It is good, I agree. Uh, Aunt Carolyn, you never told me what exactly you did when you were in the Convoc⁠—

A couple short honks sound from outside. Through the large panes of the front window I see Yuki’s car parked in the front drive.

Time for you to go. Aunt Carolyn pulls the barely drunk tea from my hands, slips my jacket over my shoulders and shuffles me to the door. Enjoy your friends. I would come to watch but, well, crowds don’t sit well with me. I’m so sorry, so, so sorry. But when you get back you can tell me all about it and that will be the same thing as being there, won’t it?

A door closes and I realize I somehow ended up on the front porch and Carolyn’s escaped back inside. I shake myself from my confused stupor and head down the steps to slip into Yuki’s back seat.

Congrats!

The moment the door shuts, Holly turns around and pops a streamer, showering me in bits of confetti and cardboard. Your official induction into Dracas has begun!

"Our official induction, junior records keeper, I say, chuckling and brushing some of the confetti off my thighs. No Merlin is going to be wiping your memory anymore."

No, thankfully. Holly shudders. She clamps a hand over the short, choppy hair on either side of her head and squints her eyes behind her large, owl-like glasses. I’ve grown attached to these memories, believe it or not. Though I’m sure there are still plenty of people who would love to try taking them anyway.

I’m sure as well, but I’ll break their arms before they try.

For you.

Yuki hands me a card with my name written in her perfect, flowy handwriting. It’s a gift from me and the rest of Dracas.

I shift my hand and use one dragon claw to neatly slice open the top of the letter.

Show off, Holly sniffs. I grin.

A gift card for Croissant Moon Café, the local supplier for my sugar addiction, slips out. The front of the card is a cartoon dragon blowing fire, while the inside reads, "We’re all FIRED UP about your big day!"

I understand you’re a lightning dragon-kin, not fire, but the others thought it appropriate, Yuki says, watching my reaction in the rearview mirror.

The signatures of all my soon-to-be-guildmates—Terrence, Callie, Jami, Isaac—along with Yuki and Holly’s, cover the inside along with words of encouragement and congratulations. A tightness constricts my throat. They brought me and Holly into their guild without question, protected us from the other guilds who wanted me more for status than what they could actually offer, and continued treating me like one of their own, even after finding out Kaden and I had lied about being full dragons. They’re too kind, too welcoming, too amazing.

Is it okay? Holly asks in a quiet voice.

It’s perfect, I say. It’s only missing one signature, but none of us can do anything about that. Thank you so much. I lean forward and give each of them a hug, probably mussing Yuki’s perfectly styled hair that falls over her perfect, porcelain face, slender eyes, and makeup.

Holly’s still watching me as Yuki pulls out of the drive and starts taking the bumpy road to the Rochester University guilds. Have you heard from…you know?

I pull out and check my phone even though I know there are exactly zero texts or calls from Kaden. No. But it’s fine. I focus firmly on looking out the window as Yuki drives us deeper into Rochester’s downtown. It wasn’t like he legally had to stay here anymore after the Convocation cleared him. I force a thin, too-bright laugh between my lips. He did exactly what we promised. We helped each other, and he left. That’s what he’s done since before he got here, so why change now?

Uh-huh, Holly says, and I don’t miss her sharp glance at Yuki. Astrid…Is there something…

You seemed flustered when we pulled up, Yuki says. Her sharp eyes pin me from the rearview mirror. Is moving into your aunt’s going all right?

There’s no point in lying to Yuki. For one, she’s my friend, as strange as it sounds to call the most popular, pretty, and athletically and academically prestigious person in our entire high school friends with a social outcast like me. Secondly, and more importantly, she’s my dragon-kin Tamer. The term sounds archaic (because it is) but it basically means she’s my protector, and the person who calms my dragon magic while I’m learning. It also means we have to trust each other enough to tell the truth.

She kept muttering about something getting closer. And… I tap my temple, thinking. About a power growing. She used to be a Merlin and…can read auras, I think? At least, she says she can read mine.

I don’t know of any Merlins who read auras, per se, Yuki says. Though a Merlin’s magic is much more powerful than any Slayers’ rune-based magic, and varies much more widely. Perhaps she’s more attuned to your aura, much like I’m more attuned to your magic than others.

What did you say she was muttering about? Holly asks.

I repeat the words as best I can.

‘Getting closer’ and a ‘power growing’? Holly shrugs. Sorry, but after going over more of the documents in the Records Room, I can confirm that applies to roughly a billion things when it comes to the dragon-kin and Convocation. Magic seems to be half spells, and half vague, entirely unhelpful messages and warnings. We could come over and ask her more about it if you want?

I recall Aunt Carolyn’s avoidance of talking about anything she’s heard, or her past. Let’s not right now.

Before Holly can continue putting her brilliant, probing mind to work, Yuki swings her car into the Frat-house lined cul-de-sac where the Convocation guilds sit. Huh, she says, an edge of annoyance in her voice. Seems we’ve got a few more visitors than usual.

My skin prickles at the number of cars lining the normally empty street. Are all of them here to see me inducted? I can only wish. No, they’ve likely come to see the girl who’s one of the only two known dragon-kin who can shift into a full dragon. Seems I’ve become the latest attraction.

For how secretive the Convocation usually is, this seems kind of obvious, Holly says. She points at a narrow space between a Hummer and an SUV. There’s a spot—Oh, never mind, it’s too narrow.

It’s perfect, Yuki says, and guns her car toward it with an enthusiasm Kaden would be proud of. I squeeze my eyes shut and refuse to look until we come to a rocking stop and Yuki says, Come on, Astrid. You can look now.

I step out of the precisely parked car and the corner of Yuki’s lips quirks up, her equivalent of a beaming smile. You big baby.

You maniacal driver.

But Yuki’s brief bout of driving-induced insanity has displaced my nerves from the upcoming ceremony and I feel lighter as the three of us cross the guild house’s front lawn.

Terrence told me to tell you that we’re all planning to go out to eat afterward to celebrate, Holly says excitedly. How does Italian sound?

I answer automatically, I wish I could, but I have work… Wait, I don’t have work. Thanks to Aunt Carolyn and a small stipend all members of the guilds enjoy, I was able to quit my shift at the Heart Attack Diner last week. My boss, Chuck, nearly conjured up more than his obligatory grunt when I told him. In less than an hour my only obligations will be high school classes and spending time at the Dracas guild. Actually, that sounds fun.

Exactly. Holly grins. You’ll have so much more free time now.

Not that much, Yuki says. You still have to work hard to get stronger over this summer. I’m sure there are many who feel that’s the best course of action, especially after they’ve seen what you can do.

I can’t help agreeing. Kaden and I managed to fend off Nico and the Allegiant, but I’m not going to pretend it was a win. In fact, if Nico hadn’t been trying to capture me instead of kill me, I likely wouldn’t be here.

I look up as we approach the guild’s front door and slow my walk. What’s he doing here? I growl.

Luke, leader of the Dankana guild and winner of the biggest-jerk-who’s-not-a-Slayer award, waits for us. He’s built like a gorilla and dresses like a beach bum rather than a leader of anything: board shorts, shirt that is criminally too tight, blond hair parted on either side.

I’m sure he just wants to talk to you, Holly