His Master Rider was laid out upon a lounging chair. Arms and legs stretched every which way, muscles cutting out from underneath the skin. She was naked, save for the thin coating of blood that seemed to cover most of her body.
But the blood wasn’t hers. She had engorged herself to the point of her stomach growing fat and her eyelids heavy at this little illegal parlor. Her body moved slowly to life, her eyes opening just enough to see him.
They were a bright purple, the color of lilacs, and seemed to nearly glow with power. It gave him pause. They were so similar to eyes he had only recently lost a battle of wills and magic against.
A smile crept upon his mouth. It pleased him that his new Rider and the Perfect Chimera known as Arianna would share similar eyes. Let them both be monsters.
“I was told you would be coming again,” she purred, a fat cat on its bed.
“You’re House Tam.” He focused on the expansive and unbroken display of her emerald skin.
“That’s what you choose to say?” She laughed at him.
She laughed at him. This was going to be a very different Master Rider than his Leona had been. He couldn’t wait to discuss with Coletta what methods she’d suggest he employ to ensure the woman’s loyalty.
“And you’re not marked as loyal to Rok.”
“I haven’t had a reason to be.”
“Marked? Or loyal?”
“Now you’re asking the right questions.” She slowly drew herself to a seated position. Her hair was short and as wild as she, spiking in every direction. “Let’s say both.”
“And if I give you a reason?”
“It’s what I’ve been waiting for.” She stood, as tall as him.
Yes, this woman will do nicely.
“I was sold the idea of coming here by one of the flower women. She told me there could be an exciting opportunity for one such as myself, but that I had to wait until the time was right.”
“So you made your own excitement in the meantime.”
“I did, though I’m getting bored.” The Tam woman sauntered over to him. “Tell me, King, is the time right?”
“It is.” He let her put her hands on him. He let her slip her palms under his vest, over his chest, and onto his shoulders. She touched him fearlessly and without reverence. She touched him like an experienced lover who knew exactly what she was looking for. “I want to make you strong.”
“I am strong.” She gave him a coquettish grin.
“I want to make you stronger.”
“Will it feel good?” she breathed into his ear.
“The best you will ever feel.” Yveun smiled into her neck. She had no idea what he had in store for her. He would find Alchemists and bring them to Nova. They would sew and stitch until she was the Perfect Dragon.
“Will there be blood?”
“So much blood.”
She quivered, whimpering softly as if his words had put heat straight to her groin. The woman smelled of fallen Dragons and freshly healed wounds. Coletta had done a good job identifying this one for him. Yveun’s palms fell on her narrow hips.
She straightened away. “Now?”
It took him a moment to realize she was talking about imbibing. But when the woman raised a clawed finger to the top of her breast and carved a golden line down to her nipple, blood dripping off its peak and onto the floor, the point was made well and truly clear. She smelled sweetly of dewy honeysuckle. She looked like some kind of dark goddess, bleeding both life and pleasure from her tit.
“Not now,” he refused, though the thought was certainly appealing. His hand cupped her breast, thumb flicking over the nipple to smear the offered blood across its surface. It hardened at his touch, a rigid point coated in gold. “For now, I wish to take you to the surface, and find you marked as mine.”
“If I must.” She raised a hand to her cheek. “I think I’m far more appealing without any tattoos on my face.”
She had a sharp chin and a crooked nose. He wasn’t inclined to agree that anything could harm the overall aesthetic, or lack thereof, of her face. But Yveun didn’t argue. The appeal of this woman was not feminine curves or pleasant features. She was raw strength. She was wild and carnal, danger personified as flesh, and it was rare for Yveun to find anything that set him to throbbing more.
“Come, my Master Rider.”
She grabbed for her tattered cape, throwing it over her shoulders.
Yveun paused in the door frame. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, “What is your name?”
“Fay.”
Master Rider Fay. It would work.
When they left, neither the flower woman nor owner of the establishment was anywhere to be seen. Yveun and Fay helped themselves out, she no doubt skipping on the bill. They didn’t speak much up the pathways. It wasn’t until they were halfway up that he heard the certain zip a glider made when it took to the skies.
Yveun raced down a narrow walk, heading for the glimmer of sunlight he saw at the end. It was a precarious balcony, but a good enough vantage for him to see the rider shooting by. It was not a Dragon of his, but the Rivet. Yveun growled in rage. She had escaped. And not only had she escaped, but she’d stolen one of his gliders and was riding it better than any of his own Riders.
“Stop!” He shouted, his voice echoing with magic, as Arianna gave a wide turn and spiraled down toward the Gods’ Line.
The Chimera stilled. His influence reached her. Yveun knew it wouldn’t be enough to truly sway her in any way. She was much too strong for that. But all he wanted to do was give the word enough of a jolt to gain her attention.
Once he had it by virtue of her eyes, he wasn’t letting go. Yveun poured every ounce of will and asked for something very, very simple. The more complex a command, the easier it was for the person he was commanding to refute it. This was a simple wish. Two words. Just the mere distraction they would cause could be enough.
Let go.
When he saw her fingers uncurl, he knew he’d won.
The girl flopped through the air like a fish out of water. She was a rag doll that had been cast aside, headed toward its ultimate demise. If he could not have her knowledge, no one would; he would see her dead. The woman plunged into the clouds a mere hand’s width from grabbing the glider.
To have even a hope of surviving, she’d have to find a way to reach it and then summon the magic, mid-air, to muster a corona. She’d either have to sustain that magic, or fly it again to survive landing.
Yveun cursed aloud.
Had it been anyone else, he would’ve taken them for dead. But not Arianna. He had been trying to kill this woman for years, and yet she persisted.
“Who was that?” Fay asked, caressing his forearm as she pressed her breasts into his triceps.
“The first person you are going to hunt down, kill, and consume.”
The woman on his arm shivered in delight and it was enough to bring a small smile back to his lips. He had tried to hunt Arianna before. But it had always been in half measures. He hadn’t known the girl, not really, to issue a full command. But now they had both seen each other. Now he had a Master Rider worthy of the name, and he would not stop halfway when molding her into the perfect killing machine.
Let the Rivet return to her bleeding world, Yveun thought darkly. Let her know only hopelessness, before her imminent demise.
52. Louie