Page 16 of Feathers and Scales

“We stop them. Why haven’t you killed others of your kind and joined the Tattered Ones’ ranks?”

She clenched her jaw.Evasive much.“Besides the fact that I’m not a killer? I have too many distractions. A need for power is not one of them.”

“What were you doing in Acadia that night?”

“Research.” Mentioning her trip brought forward the memory of that inhuman energy in the cave system—one that was synonymous with the energy of the dragons. “Your language was written in that cave. The demon was afraid of your kind.”

“You lost me.”

“I’m assuming your kind also hunts demons.” Odd that demons never shared this information, even if they just let it slip. “There’s a cave near where you found me that has carvings.”

Daxton stared past her as if lost in memory. “That was part of a peace treaty the dragons made with thePanawahpskektribe centuries ago. That cave was once sacred, but now it only holds memories of heartache. Dragons were forbidden from directly assisting the natives’ plight against the settlers who took their land.”

That explains the foreign text.Izzy swallowed. “How long have the dragons been around?”

“Our bloodlines have existed since the beginning of time. But our dragon history didn’t start until after we could shift to the dragon, which was a century or two before Christ’s death. There may still be a few in the eastern hemisphere who are from that time.”

Her breath caught.Dragons have true immortality.The answer to her reincarnating punishment. She, technically, was older, but herlongest human life had been one hundred years. Though when the Supreme was involved, anything was possible.

Simon was far older than humanly possible, thanks to Izzy’s power to grant miracles. A gift she could not use on herself. Daxton gave off the impression of being older, but she couldn’t pinpoint his exact age. How were they able to stay hidden for so long? For her, by not delegating human caloric energy to her spirit form, she could keep it out of the visible spectrum, making her invisible. Could the dragons do the same?

“May I have that journal? I’d like to understand how we’ve been clueless to each other’s existence.”And how you are immortal.

“Tell me more about your kind, and I’ll consider sharing it with you. We can’t figure out this…link unless we share information.”

Curiosity won over self-preservation. “Fallen have been condemned for our betrayal.”

“A betrayal? Are you talking about the devil?”

A tingle of a blazing fire belonging to the Betrayer surfaced in her thoughts, but she snuffed it out and rested back in her chair. Taking a deep breath, she said, “If you consider the Hebrew Bible, then my history can follow that story. We refused to protect the Supreme’s precious humans, and we were punished for it. Fallen share similarities to many religious creatures—pick your preference. I don’t have one. All I know is we were a militia—a host of beings—and we made a transgression against a powerful entity we call the Supreme. Those who didn’t ask for the Supreme’s forgiveness became demons. The rest of us who asked were given mercy.”

“What kind of mercy?”

His question ruptured the control she had over the memories. They existed in the back of her mind, like dreams she recalled if she thought long and hard about it. But the strongest of them had a way of pushing to the surface on their own.

A force like the sun smashed into her, ripping, shredding, and taking. It toreher apart. Gravity yanked against her energy. She was falling. A bright flash and a plane of time slammed into her. A foreign presence breached her mind—emotions.

Pain zinged through every new nerve. Sorrow weighed her spirit down to sluggish movements. Regret knotted her consciousness into a tight ball. All her emotions drowned her in an immobilizing agony—her own personal hell. She had lost everything, and it ravaged her. Not in a physical sense, but in a heart-wrenching loss only those who had experienced the same anguish could describe. And she cried into the world.

She slammed the door shut against the gripping memory. The horrors of the past still whispered in the pounding of her aching heart. What was worse, she had thought she’d never feel that pain again, but then she lost the person closest to her. Extending her hand, she said, “Book first, dragon.”

The pain in Izzy’s scrunched expression spoke like a dying wish against Daxton’s mind. He winced, a cool twinge of worry replacing his burning frustration. He slid Cornelius’s journal across the table to Izzy—a Fallen trapped between Heaven and Hell to suffer for he didn’t know how long. Her eyes glittered with curiosity even while internal pain weighed in them.

“Simon can answer more of your questions as I skim this.” She rose and moved with an unnatural grace to the room Simon blasted music from. Every movement was poised and dignified despite the tendrils of pain that leaked along the link. If it weren’t for that connection, he would have believed she shoved the emotion straight from her mind like a robot. Instead, that glimpse into her turmoil explained her hardened edges, and showed the warm and broken woman hiding underneath. He longed to stretch out his hand and stroke her caramel-blond hair if only to startle her from her controlled manner.

She opened the door to Simon’s room, and modernized orchestrated music blasted into Daxton’s eardrums.

Simon sat in a high-backed leather chair, squinting at a computer screen and holding his teacup to his lips. A box of glazed doughnutsrested on the otherwise bare furniture. Tidy furniture made up the rest of the space. The heavy bass drum and beating strings vibrated from rectangular speakers flanking the room.

“Simon,” Izzy yelled into the room.

Simon whipped around and snapped his finger against the keyboard. The music went quiet.

Izzy cleared her throat. “You can share your work with Daxton, but no other information.”

As Simon’s gaze locked on Daxton, Izzy headed back into the living room.

“Come on in then,” Simon muttered, turning back to his screen.