Chapter 7
Elana
I stepped out of the portal and found myself staring at a giant wrought-iron gate that looked like it had come right out of a gothic horror novel.
Next to my shoulder on either side floated fiery red ifrits, shrunken down to about the size of Ken dolls.
Since neither Seth nor Desmon could be there personally to ensure my safety, they’d sent Flame and Blaze, two fire ifrits, along with me for protection.
Seth had also placed a spell on me that would hide my magic for the duration of the trip. He’d assured me that I still had it and could access it should I need to. I’d had to stop myself from asking him why I’d ever need it since I couldn’t even control it for a simple spell.
Seth had also warned me to stay away from Emmett’s wizard. Just because Leroy wasn’t officially part of the old boys’ club called the WEC didn’t mean he wouldn’t subscribe to the same beliefs. He didn’t need to ask me twice; I had enough wizard trouble to last me my entire life.
Finally, he gave me several spells that I could use to call for help and protect myself if I needed them. And that had confused me, because if he thought I might need them, then why was I going to Emmett’s lair on my own? Okay, so I wasn’t really on my own since I had Flame and Blaze. But still.
There was a chime, and the iron gate started to swing open.
I’d expected to see a human member of his staff, or maybe even the dragon himself, but what greeted me was a goblin.
I hadn’t met many of those in my life despite having been exposed to magic and monsters from the day I was born.
Usually, goblins were rather crude creatures, grotesque-looking, their faces a caricature of a human’s, about chest-high or shorter on an average human.
They liked to band together in roving gangs.
There was a group that caused much mischief and petty crimes in Darlington.
But this one was different. For one thing, he looked a lot more refined than any I’d ever seen. His black jacket was impeccably tailored, the fabric clinging to his lean, wiry frame as if it had been made for him. Every seam was well pressed, and every button polished to a mirror shine.
He had the typical greenish-brown complexion of his kind, along with the exaggerated, almost cartoonish humanoid features, but none of the mean sneer that often twisted their faces.
“Good morning. I’m Nak. Welcome to Dragon Manor.” He bowed low.
Blaze and Flame exchanged a fiery stare, and I could feel the heat of the tiny fireballs bounce behind my head.
That had the goblin frowning. Ah, there was that look that identified them! But it was brief. “Are your pets housetrained? We’ve already replaced several sets of curtains due to fire damage.”
Flame bristled at being called a pet. “Now see here…” He swelled to full human size, towering over the goblin.
“Stand down, Flame. I’m sure he means no harm.” Blaze, ever the calmer of the two, pulled his brother back.
Nak ignored the hot-tempered djinn, and focused on me instead. “And you must be Lady Elana. My lord awaits you within.”
Lady Elana? That was a little much. Even when I’d lived with Samuel along with our servants and nannies way back in a life I’d rather forget, they’d always just called me ma’am.
“I’m no lady. It’s just Elana.”
“As you wish.”
He ushered us through the gate and into a golf cart before getting into the driver’s seat and chauffeuring us up the long driveway.
Desmon had a long driveway too, but his was lined with rows of well-maintained trees and shrubs.
This one was wooded on both sides, the giant trees extending almost like an arch over us.
After a while, the trees thinned out to show the building ahead. Nak had called it a manor, but I thought it looked more like a castle straight out of a fairy tale. Except this one wasn’t freestanding and instead blended right into the mountainside.
It even had a moat which extended around the front, complete with a drawbridge which we were currently crossing. As we approached, the portcullis lifted with a groan.
Once inside, everything changed, from straight out of a medieval fantasy, the air thick with the scent of evergreens and decay, to something a lot more modern. I found myself in a beautifully maintained courtyard. The scent of jasmine drifted to my nose, and I looked around to find the source.
I loved jasmine and was surprised it grew so far north. I found a row of potted bushes lined up against a wall, their little white flowers the source of my favorite scent. Each large pot was on wheeled plant caddies. Ah, no wonder. They must get moved back inside in the fall and winter.
There were entrances into the main building all around us, but it was from the largest entrance up ahead that Emmett stepped out in his human form.
A silk shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, and leather pants hugged his trim waist, giving him a total swashbuckling pirate look.
It was different from the more tailored garments Desmon often wore when he was home alone.
The air behind him shimmered like his wings were trying hard not to show.
It was one thing playing housekeeper to a dragon who had only viewed protecting me as a way to access my son’s magic, a dragon who now thought of me as a friend, and another thing altogether to be coveted by one.
Emmett looked at me like I was something he wanted to add to his hoard, and that was unnerving.
He might be in his human form, but I saw the dragon underneath as clear as day. Not just the air shimmering where his wings were either. His five o'clock shadow almost formed a scale-like pattern. But when I looked again, it was normal.
If Emmett was anything like Desmon, then he had three natural forms. His full human form, his dragon, and a mixed form that combined the two. I couldn’t help but wonder what Emmett’s other forms looked like. I’d only ever seen this one.
I did know that his dragon form was bronze because of the scale he’d given me. This was echoed in his human coloring.
“Elana,” he purred, his voice smooth as aged whiskey. “Right on time.”
I opened my mouth to respond—
“Hold it right there.”
A new voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. I turned to see a man striding toward us, with an old-style wizard cloak that had gone out of fashion last century flaring out behind him like a dark shadow.
This must be Leroy, the wizard Seth warned me about. He had that look that many traditional wizards did, where they looked simultaneously young and old at once, a side effect of extending their lives or enhancing their looks with magic.
He looked me over, sizing me up. His frown was impossible not to notice. Had he expected someone else?
The wizard’s voice was as severe as his look. “No uninvited guests past this point,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Put your demon pets away in their vessels.”
And that had Flame going again. He grew in size, the orange flames around him dancing with irritation. “We are not pets. And ifrits are not demons, we’re djinns,” he rumbled, his voice deepening as his form expanded.
Leroy took an instinctive step back, his hand twitching toward something hidden inside his cloak. “Control your pets,” he snapped, his eyes flicking between the two massive creatures and then to me.
I felt a surge of irritation. He spoke as if Flame and Blaze were nothing more than trained animals.
This was what Seth had meant earlier. The man might not be part of the Wizard Elder Council, but he thought the same way.
Magic was a tool to be exploited, and creatures like the ifrits were assets to be controlled.
I was suddenly very glad Seth had wrapped my magic in a concealment spell before we arrived.
If this Leroy sensed my magic, he’d want access to it, especially since I couldn’t control it myself.
Fuck if I’d ever let anyone use me for my magic again!
I lifted my chin, channeling my inner bitch. There was only one chance to make a first impression, and I wanted this wizard to know that I wasn’t victim material. “They are not pets.”
“Yeah,” Flame said, his voice almost belligerent. He was always the more emotional of the two, quick to anger, quick to defend. “We’re her guards.”
Blaze, the other ifrit, remained silent but shifted closer to Flame, a lick of smoke reaching out to calm his brother. To the best of my knowledge, the two ifrits were visually identical but had very different temperaments.
“That’s right; they are my guards. Not my pets. And Emmett already agreed to them being here.”
Emmett stepped between Flame, who looked ready to toss a fireball, and the wizard, diffusing the situation. “I have,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “They are welcome here.”
“Have you met?” I asked Emmett, ready to make introductions.
The wizard scowled like he thought the ifrits did not deserve introductions. After all, bound spirits were not afforded such things.
“I have. Flame and Blaze, right? They were the first to greet me at my last visit to Desmon’s.”
I smirked at that. It was a very generous use of the word “greet” since Blaze and Flame usually responded to intruders found on and around the estate with threats of violence.
The wizard bristled, his jaw tightening, but he nodded curtly before turning away and muttering something under his breath about “reckless dragons” and “unnecessary complications.”
Emmett ignored him, turning to me with a grin. “Welcome to my humble abode. Let me take your bags and show you your rooms. Then I’ll give you a tour around the castle.”
“Wow, I get the grand tour from the dragon himself? Should I be flattered?”
“I’d give you the full tour and show you my treasures, but I don’t think you’re ready for that yet.”
I rolled my eyes, even as he took my single piece of luggage from me. I was simply visiting for the weekend and had only brought a few changes of clothes.
Unlike the outside of the castle walls, which totally gave off medieval fortress vibes with the towering stone walls, iron gates, and moat, the inside was a lot more reminiscent of a luxury ski lodge.
Soaring timber beams arched overhead, their grain showing in the soft light of wrought-iron chandeliers.
The floors were covered in plush rugs that muffled our footsteps and softened the space.
We walked by a set of double doors that led into the drawing room, where a massive stone fireplace dominated one wall.
The furniture was all generously sized and sturdily built, yet still super comfortable-looking, and the decor had a certain rustic charm.
The only strange thing was the low-grade glow of magic over anything textile or wood.
“This is unexpected,” I admitted, eyeing a couch that looked soft enough to sink into.
Emmett chuckled, a low, rich sound. “I like my creature comforts,” he said. “And after centuries of stone caves and cold drafts, I’ve earned every single one of them.”
He led us up a set of grand stairs and turned to the left, stopping at the first door down a hallway.
“This will be your room, Blaze and Flame.”
The door opened to a spacious suite with two large beds and a view of the mountains. “Elana is only a few rooms down,” he said, gesturing toward the hallway. “The door with the red ribbon on the handle.”
“Now, if you boys don’t mind. I’d love to show Elana her room and give her the grand tour. I promise to keep her safe. Feel free to mix and mingle with the staff. I have already put out a note that you are welcome.”
The two ifrits exchanged a look before looking at me.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve handled worse.”
They both nodded, and one of them said, “You know how to call us.” Then the two puffed out of existence. That really didn’t mean much though, because for all I knew, they could still be here watching.
“Now let’s show you your room.” Emmett stepped behind me, a warm hand landing on my lower back to guide me down the hallway.
It was warm, firm, and way too familiar, the heat of his palm burning through my shirt. My skin prickled under his touch, my pulse kicking up. I let him guide me, hyperaware of every shift of his fingers against my back.
My room was just as nice as my friends’, except it had a single giant bed. He dropped my bag off and held out an arm.
“Now, how about that tour?”
I eyed his arm with distrust for a second.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re scared of little ole me?” He feigned offense. “You wound me.”
I rolled my eyes. Emmett was very different than Desmon. I could tell that already. He was more playful and laissez-faire. Did he use his well-timed quips and jokes to avoid confrontation?
Then, shoring my courage with a reminder that I was just here for Melantha and I wouldn’t let him get under my skin, I stood a little straighter and took his hand.