Destiny Kills (Myth and Magic 1)

I touched my stomach, and the barely there bulge. “If she’s right, you’ll be doing your fair share of diaper changing.”

“Love to.”

I snorted softly. We’d see how positive he was when actually faced with the task.

We came out of the trees and into the fading remnants of the day. The rugged coastline curved away to our left and the surge of the sea was high, the waves riding high up the cliffs. A weapon I could call if things went wrong with Trae’s dad.

We swept up a slight incline and, at the top, the heart of the clique became evident. The buildings were a mix of wood and stone structures and, in many ways, the whole place reminded me of an ancient walled village. It even had a wall, in the form of a post and wire fence that separated the housing area from the rest of the valley.

The main house was a two-story stone affair that was big and formidable looking. The houses that clustered closest to it were also stone, but as the ring of houses moved farther away, they became a mix of wood and stone, and then finally just wood. The outer ring looked just like houses you’d see in any suburban city.

“This is more feudal than what I expected,” I said, after a moment.

“Yeah, the Jamieson clique is one of the originals.” His voice was dry. “If my father had his way, there’d only be originals. He can’t abide having the line diluted.”

“So he’s not going to be happy about you further diluting the precious bloodline by mating with a half-breed sea dragon?”

“Not at all.” His voice was decidedly cheery, although the look he gave me was full of concern. “If you’re at all worried about him, you can stay in the car. Or go see Mom.”

“No, I want to meet the bastard who made your and Egan’s lives such a living hell.”

He nodded, and drove into the nearest parking space. He helped me out of the car, then, with an arm around my waist, guided me into the cavernous stone entranceway. The huge wood and iron doors were open and led into a room that could have easily stepped out of the medieval era. Stone walls, huge tapestries, and heavy wooden furniture that looked worn with time and living.

Our footsteps echoed as we crossed the room, but no one came running out to see or greet us.

“He does know we’re coming?” I whispered, studying the growing shadows uneasily.

“Yeah, but he’s making a big deal of it,” Trae said, his voice filling the silence with contempt.

“This isn’t exactly what I’d call a big deal,” I muttered. “I think it’s more the cold shoulder the unwanted relatives get.”

“Oh, it’s that, too.”

The set of doors at the far end of the room began to open as we approached them. The next room was warmer, but it was almost as empty. Almost. A red carpet led the eye down the length of the room to the steps and the huge gilded throne that dominated the top of them. On it sat a man.

A small, frail man with golden hair that was thick with gray and golden eyes that held a malicious glint.

“And Egan couldn’t beat this?” I whispered, as we walked toward him.

“What you see is the result of the ring being gone too long.” His voice was clipped, and there was tension in the arm that held me so protectively. “My father in his prime was a dangerous man to cross.”

I stared into his father’s golden eyes and saw the anger and hatred hiding there. He was still a dangerous man, even if the shell was failing.

We stopped in front of him. His gaze skimmed Trae, his expression one of cold contempt, then he looked at me. A long, lingering look that slipped down my body and made me want a shower to wash away the feel of it.

“What news do you have of my sister?” Trae snapped, his voice full of ice and his grip on my waist tightening a fraction more.

“What news do you have of the ring?” the old man said, his voice a mocking echo of Trae’s.

“We have it.”

“Then give it to me.”

Trae glanced at me briefly, then said, “Do you think I would be foolish enough to bring it into this place, without first getting the information I need?” He snorted softly. “If you taught me one thing, Father, it’s not to trust your fucking promises.”

The old man laughed. It was a cold, cruel sound. “Ah, if only my real son had half your balls, he would have made a grand king.”

Trae’s hands retreated into a fist and dug slightly into my side. But he didn’t give in to the anger I could feel in him, and simply said, “And if you’d had half the honor and courage that Egan had, this clique could have been a great one.”