Page 24 of Scion of Chaos

“Why does that make me so special?”

April sighs. “BecauseI’ma chimera too, and I’m probably not even as strong as you. Any member of the bloodline who carries a mix of two or more of the higher races’ bloodlines qualifies.

“When I first discovered my power, I was hunted for it.” She glances at Andrew, who is frowning at her. “Dad, it wasn’t your fault. The second Chaos learned I existed, he stopped caring about you and whatever you did at his casino. He wanted me because of what I am, and there’s a high likelihood if he learns Nemea exists, he’ll want her too.”

My heart begins to race and a chill seeps through my body. My breath catches in my throat. “Did… Did you sayChaos?”

Pressure pounds at the base of my skull. A high-pitched whine fills my ears, and a second later, every single glass vessel on the table shatters.

14

Nemea

April’s three dragon mates leap up and haul her back from the table amid her cries of protest. I blink at the mess of colored glass shards and wetness coating the stone tabletop. My head is still buzzing, and I grip the edge of the table so hard my knuckles turn white.

Through the din still blaring in my head, I hear my name. It isn’t until intense heat pulses through my forearm that I jerk my head up to see Benedetta standing at my side, one hand clutching my wrist, white flames licking out from where our skin comes in contact.

But she doesn’t look angry. Nothing but deep concern etches her pretty features.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s all right, honey. Can you take a deep breath and try to calm down for us? We aren’t going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you.”

I swallow and force myself to release my grip on the table. My hands are shaking. “Is Chaos a person? Or a god? Or something else? I thought it was just… like… aforce. Because I’m pretty sure my magic is chaos.”

April brushes off her three overprotective dragons. Stuart finally relaxes and dips his chin. “Chaos is a force. He is also a primordial being. He’s like a god. Fate is his counterpart. Fate follows a strict code, loves rules, lovesenforcingthe rules, and has a pack of magical hounds that carry out their bidding. Chaos, as you might expect, is the opposite, and his hounds are smarter and far more dangerous.”

“So… Fate is a person too, I take it? And a force? Please don’t tell me they’re coming after me too.”

The three pale-haired dragons remain standing, on alert, which is oddly more comforting than it should be. Gray picks up the thread, nodding, then chuckling ruefully. “Fate and Chaos have a bit of a complicated, highly competitive history. Their competition became apparent thanks to another prominent chimera named Deva Rainsong. You may have heard of her.”

“Who hasn’t?” I give a nervous laugh because her name keeps coming up. Not that it’s not cool being compared to a goddess, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live up to the reverence she gets from pretty much everyone.

Gray nods and lifts his gaze to the ceiling, slipping his fingers into his pockets as he rocks back on his heels. “She’s also imbued with fate magic. When she was coming into her power, Chaos tried to recruit her and failed. And hehatesto lose—but so does Fate.” His jaw spasms and his eyes flash with anger. “Theynearly killed someone close to us: our principal at the time. We used to serve as bodyguards to a singer in residence at the Pandemonium Casino, which Chaos calls home. So we’re not exactly fans of either one here at the school.”

“But doesn’t Fate protect this island? The barrier…”

“Was created by Deva and her mates after we were attacked several years ago,” April says. “She’s close to Fate, but it’sherfate hounds who help the bloodline find their mates, not Fate’s. Several years ago, Fate wanted to eradicate the bloodline entirely. We were loose threads in their grand tapestry that needed to be snipped. Since Deva was one of us, she stepped in and protected us. Took us under her wing and vowed to take over matching us with our fated mates since Fate couldn’t. She assigned two of her hounds specifically to this school. You can’t see them, but they’re there. If you’re here, one of them led you here. And for anyone who has found a mate at this school, I can guarantee one of the fate hounds nudged them together. They sent me Gray.” She gives the silver-haired man an affectionate look. His troubled expression eases into a warm smile. “And thenallhis friends came too… Trust me, I never expected to have six mates, but there’s no doubt in my mind we were meant to be together.”

“But why do you think Chaos is after me?”

“Because he won’t rest until he has his own chimera to control,” Gray says. “Forget the fact that Fate doesn’tcontrolDeva—Chaos doesn’t see it that way. And if you possess chaos magic, the odds are even higher that he’ll catch wind of your existence and come after you.”

“He already knows,” comes a deep voice that reverberates through the entire room. The air near the stairwell shimmers, sparking with jagged flashes of violet lightning. My heart leaps into my throat. That effect is so familiar.

Then a man appears. He’s a hulking figure with broad shoulders, dressed in a heavy black leather overcoat that looks like it’s been through a war or three. Beneath it he’s wearing dark, well-fitted clothing, his shirt unbuttoned just far enough to show that his bulk is all muscle.

All hell breaks loose as the six dragons surge toward him, half-shifting. I see nothing but a blur of horns, wings, and talons as they surround the newcomer.

I leap up in alarm when they all breathe fire at the man. “No! Don’t hurt him!” I cry, not even sure why I feel the need to defend this stranger. But when the flames dissipate, the man looks unharmed. A faint violet bubble shimmers around him.

Then he turns his head and his eyes lock onto mine. “Hello, Nemea. I’ve come to take you home.”

“Home?” I frown at him, an image flashing through my mind of the run-down housing development outside the city where I grew up. The place I spent the last few years trying to escape. Home is thelastplace I want to go.

I didn’t have the grades or money for college, and I’d been resigned to being stuck there with the only job prospect working in a shipping warehouse with the rest of my small hometown. I got a wild hair up my ass to hitchhike into the city a year ago, hooked up with a caravan of nomadic van dwellers, and finally made it to the coast. Taking shelter in one of Seattle’s multitude of coffee shops, I overheard two people talking about attending an amazing art school and sort of shadowed them until I wound up on the very ferry that brought me to Bear Island, and by extension, St. George. I spent the next week expecting to be called out on sneaking into the school, but everyone was nothing but welcoming.

This school has felt more like home to me than any other place I’ve been. Until now, anyway.

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