21. Chapter 21
Daxton’s beast burned holes in him as Silas left his office for the night.
Two days had been too long to stay away from Izzy.
He and his dragon starved for her calming presence, and Daxton wanted to learn more about her.
He’d been busy trying to track down the Tattered Ones with his men, knowing Keiran would kick Izzy out if they didn’t destroy them.
All the while, he had to keep up with his regular chief duties as Silas hovered over his shoulder.
He groaned.
The desire to visit Izzy beat at him, but the fear of losing control and Marking her once more was a steady drum in his head. The breathing exercises she gave him only worked so much before his emotions trickled back in.
When did you become such a coward? Sighing, he got to his feet. Stop avoiding her. You can’t get her to like you if you don’t spend time with her.
Before he left the barracks, he detoured to the kitchen. He doubted Izzy had eaten regularly even with Blaze on her. With a buffet of vegetables, fruits, and jerky in bags, he reached the library late in the evening. Blaze stood outside the doors to the Archives with one earbud in place.
Upon spotting him, she scowled with a hint of bared teeth. “Oh, do I have a bone to pick with you.” She ripped the earbud free.
“I could say the same. A report about our visitor would have been nice.”
“Do you think I’ve had a free moment?” She stabbed her thumb toward the Archives.
“That woman—thing—doesn’t rest, eat, or even care.
At first, she was normal, but now she’s a fucking robot.
I’ve only been able to sleep in the spare room when Mrs. Renly is teaching her Dragonian or when she doesn’t leave her body in the bed like a corpse.
” She crossed her arms, tapping her fingers against her elbow.
“And yes, we’ve learned that parlor trick.
She damn near gave Mrs. Renly a heart attack when the poor lady couldn’t wake her.
Then, that ghost Izzy came up and caused her fright.
To top it all off, Izzy won’t tell us anything about herself. ”
Daxton winced and rubbed his stubble.
Blaze sucked in a breath. “Silas mentioned her kind were the origins of the Tattered Ones, but I didn’t expect this human-thing. Why the hell did you Mark her?”
Pressure built at the back of his eyes from his rising power as his dragon interpreted her actions as threats. “That’s what she’s trying to figure out.” He rubbed his pounding temples. “You’re exhausted, Blaze. Go enjoy the rest of the night off.”
Her head dropped, unable to meet his gaze, and her fists tightened. With a clenched jaw, she lifted her chin. “I’d love to watch this premiere of ‘The Life of Daxton and Izzy,’ but I’ll take your offer. I need to become reacquainted with an actual bed.”
She stomped past him, her attitude crackling in the air.
Her temper wasn’t new to him, but the defiance was.
To stand against him like that, Blaze held a powerful dominance.
He hadn’t used the same strength as he had with Keiran, but he hadn’t taken it easy on her, either. She’d grown into a strong woman.
He sighed and opened the glass door. Something bright on the floor caught his attention as he walked in.
The pure white feather felt soft, like down.
The barbs tapered into a translucent yellow rachis in the middle.
It reminded him of the male northern flicker—a bird he used to see while on guard patrol.
The feather’s beauty fascinated him, and he twirled it between his fingers.
Knowing who it belonged to, and how few she had, he tucked it into the pocket of his long-sleeved flannel and headed to its owner.
He found Izzy’s human body asleep on a chaise lounge, her blond hair sweeping over her cheeks as she slumbered.
She wore a simple T-shirt and jacket. Her jeans clung to her legs, and her small feet remained bare.
Her lifelessness told him she walked in her spirit.
His breathing became harder, smoky in taste.
Drawn to her sleeping form, he brushed her untamed hair behind her ear. A gnawing need for her to stay in her body wrenched his gut. By staying in her other form, she denied that her humanity was a part of her.
In a trance, he placed his palm on her bent knee as if to wake her from sleep. Relief loosened the tension in his muscles as his dragon finally relented. He tugged at the link. Something small clattered to the floor to his left, and her eyelids lifted.
Her startled gold gaze shot to his hand. “Stop doing that.” She smacked his fingers away.
The tension returned to his shoulders, a reminder that the calming effect only worked if he touched her. She grabbed her glasses from the table beside her and pushed up from the chair. While she marched to where her book had dropped, she stretched her arms above her head and yawned.
He cleared space on the table for the bag of food he had brought and touched the link between them. The trickle of surprise, as if she didn’t expect him to visit, punched his pride.
“What misfortune brings you to this place of learning?” Her words floated from behind the shelves.
“I brought you something.”
“What is it?” She poked her head out from behind the bookshelf in front of him. Her eyes twinkled.
She enjoys gifts. I’ll have to remember that. “Food.”
“Serephina already made me eat three times today.” Her pointed nose wriggled before she ducked back.
“Humor me?”
A pause thickened the air, followed by rustling. She reentered his view, journal in grasp. Her hair sat evenly around her face as if she’d fixed her appearance.
His heart lurched, and he smiled.
She grinned back only to school her expression back to calm. “How is the hunting going? Keiran told me there are two Archfiends working together?”
Daxton nodded solemnly as frustration built within him. “They swam away, which masked their scent. We’ve been patrolling the coastline in either direction with no luck.”
He pulled out a chair for her.
“Thank you.” She sat without looking at him.
He took the seat next to her.
She said, “I’ve been trying to piece together who the Archfiend could be, and I’m drawing blanks. When Fotios was my Coheart, Archfiends didn’t exist and Fallen knew each other. But none were close enough to me to have quoted Fotios nor to have some intellectual grudge against me.”
“What do you mean, grudge?”
“He called himself my rival and commented on my intelligence.”
“Was there someone who craved Fotios’s favor?”
She shrugged. “Fotios was a philosopher with many students, so there were countless, but they were all human.”
“Can a human become an Archfiend?”
A spike of fear jumped across the link from her. “No. But a Remnant might.”
“A what?”
Izzy leaned forward. “Fotios had this theory that as the Fallen fell, our energy or essence splintered into multiple newborns. Some humans hold minutely weak pieces of Fallen. And each piece would be drawn to the other. Fotios never proved their existence, but if one killed a Fallen angel, they could potentially gain enough energy to become an Archfiend.”
“Fuck.”
“I’ve come across people who have stronger spirit energy. It’s one of the main reasons I found Fotios. Even among your kind, according to the Centurion journals, this seems prevalent.”
Daxton nodded. “I know what you mean. To my Insight, it’s like a warmth—a camaraderie that we sense within their spirit energy. Have you heard anything more from Simon?”
“No.” She paused. “What about my biological mother, Darcy?”
“Nothing unusual yet. Tomorrow I’d like for us to go to the fisherman’s cabin to see if you can give us ideas on where to look next.”
Izzy nodded stiffly. It was the last place he wanted her to be, but they needed to find the Archfiend if they planned to stop him.
Her gaze lowered to his chest and narrowed in anger. He glanced down and patted the feather peeking from his pocket. She snatched it from under his hand.
“Where did you get this?” she asked, as though he’d stolen it from her person.
He lifted his hands in surrender, sensing brittle fear under the fire in her voice. “I found it. How did it fall off?”
She brushed her finger up the fibers. It disintegrated into thin air.
He sucked in a breath. “Why did you do that?”
“Many sought them out in the past when we made ourselves known. One fearsome group still alive today used to call it the Feather of Everlasting.” Her focus glazed over.
“Humans hunted us, thinking the feathers would give them immortality. But the feathers disintegrate the moment something strong disturbs the filaments, so it’s hard to do anything but look at them. ”
She left off how she lost it… “When do you hunt?”
According to Simon’s tale, she needed to kill demons to receive the feathers.
“I go on scavenging parties with my Fallen friend, Thea,” she said.
A wave of protectiveness washed over him. Though usually not as powerful as Tattered Ones, demons could be just as dangerous. He clamped down his dragon side as it rushed to the surface again. “Can you trust another Fallen?”
Sadness lurked in her drawn expression. “I’m not sure what leads a Fallen down the path to becoming an Archfiend. But Thea and I have lasted this long, and yes, I trust her, but still have some precautions of course.”
“Healers say they sense when a dragon will become Lost, unable to shift back into a human form.” His mouth dried as he set the food out on the table. “Would you allow me to go with you when you hunt next time?”
“You’d hinder more than help,” she said with just a hint of a smile. “With your protectiveness, you’d probably kill anything in sight.”
Daxton’s muscles tightened. She was right. He wouldn’t be able to stop his beast if something threatened her. Not yet, at least.
“I didn’t know what you liked to eat, so I brought a little of everything,” he said.
She scanned the buffet, picked up a carrot, and pointed it toward the plate of meat. “What kind of jerky is that?”
As she put the vegetable into her mouth and chewed, her moist lips mesmerized him. He cleared his throat. Starved, he leaned over and took a carrot stick. “I’m not sure.”
“Oh?”
“When dragons get bored, we hunt.” He grabbed a piece of dry meat. “It’s game, but I can’t tell you the specifics.”
Biting into it, he tasted pepper and grilled flavoring among the chewy texture. He selected an apple wedge and offered it to her. She declined with a frown.
That’s not her normal stoic expression. “Don’t like apples?” he asked.
“Keiran demonstrated his dominance using one.” She tilted the journal up.
Her words sent his mood into a billow of fire. “When?”
Izzy’s eyes displayed a challenge of fury over the top of her book. “Need I explain, he did the demonstration to help me understand the struggle you have with your dragon. I didn’t come here to get between you and your Centurion.”
The heat in her tone warned him to rein in his protectiveness. Claws dug into his mind as he did so. He’d hoped visiting her would help calm him, but even sitting close to her, he found he walked a thin line with his control. He needed her touch.