Ashes of Flame: The Dragon Mafia Chronicles Read online

  Ashes to Flame

  Lela Grayce

  Copyright © 2021 by Lela Grayce

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Acknowledgments

  Coming soon!

  Other Books By Lela

  Some see scars and call them flaws, but they are evidence of battles fought and won. How could they ever be flaws? Wear them proudly.

  My eyes blinked open. The first thought I had was that everything hurt, including my eyeballs—I’d never had my eyeballs ache before. I couldn’t seem to get my mind to work—it was sluggish and annoying. With my brain on the fritz, I decided to assess my surroundings first, then figure out a way to get the ole noggin’ working again. Not necessarily in that order.

  The floor was hard, like ground hard. My hand scraped across a rough surface that felt an awful lot like concrete. Since I’d never slept on concrete, I wasn’t certain, but maybe it was to blame for the pain I felt everywhere. I was lying on my stomach but didn’t have the energy, or strength, to move. With Herculean effort, I moved my head to the left to take in more of the room.

  Grey walls and floors made up the closet-sized room, and it was, indeed, concrete. I laid on a raised bench, of sorts, with no padding whatsoever. A lite blanket covered me, but did little to protect me from the chill. There was one light source, high up in the ceiling, and no windows. A closed door was opposite me and made of a different shade of grey, which spoke of metal.

  Wherever I was, it wasn’t a fancy resort, but more like a prison. Fantastic.

  I tried again to roll over, but I was too weak to even raise my head. With nothing but a dank room to see, I lost interest quickly and my focus went to my thoughts, again. I couldn’t remember how I had gotten here; when I tried to think of anything, it was just blank.

  The small amount of exertion I’d done exhausted me, and I could feel my eyes drooping. I closed them, hoping that when I woke again, I’d be able to recall more.

  A bang startled me awake and I sucked in a breath as the pain and ache that I had ignored came rushing back to the forefront of my mind. I was able to hold in a groan as another bang sounded and the door started to move. I managed to turn my head back to its original position, even though I wanted to see who would enter.

  “Get in there and check her again,” a female voice growled, followed by the sound of a body thumping onto the floor. “You better have some results soon, or you’ll find your clock ticking faster.”

  The female voice tickled a part of my brain for recognition, but I couldn’t place it.

  “Her state hasn’t changed in weeks. She’s in a coma and needs medical attention, a hospital, drugs,” a male voice said, from where I guessed the floor was.

  “For your sake, I hope she wakes up soon,” the female growled, and a memory flashed across my mind. A dark-haired woman with milky, purple eyes standing by an equally striking dark-skinned male with white eyes.

  The door slammed closed with a resounding echo.

  A sigh from the male now in my cell was a sound that I could feel. It was part frustration, part hopelessness. How long had he been coming in to see me?

  “Hey there, it’s me again,” he spoke softly, and I couldn’t figure out who he was talking to. “I’m going to check your pulse and respirations. I can’t check anything else because I’m still not allowed any equipment.”

  I tried to steady my breathing but I couldn’t stop my heart from beating faster as I could feel him, and it made me uneasy.

  A light touch on my shoulder nearly had me flinching, but it was gentle and barely there. Soft fingers felt along my wrist searching for my pulse. I held my breath, but I knew that wouldn’t do anything for my increased heartrate.

  “Your heartrate has increased. Let’s hope this is a good sign and not a turn for the worst,” he said, before his hand returned to my shoulder. “Just going to check your breathing now.”

  I couldn’t understand why he was talking to me. I was supposed to be in a coma. I shouldn’t be able to hear … should I?

  “Your breathing is faster, as well,” he spoke softly, with concern.

  He sat down near my head and I wondered what he was going to do next, but after a couple minutes and nothing happened, I thought that he’d finished.

  “I don’t even know your name,” he whispered, and my heart went out to him. “They won’t tell me how you got to be like this. They aren’t good people, and I’m terrified for you to wake up and endure whatever they need you for, but I also don’t want you to get worse.”

  He was silent for a couple more minutes and I debated on reaching out or telling him somehow that I was awake.

  “They’ll be back soon. I’ve done all I can, but a human doctor helping a supe is a recipe for failure. They won’t tell me what you are, so I can’t even make an educated guess on your condition.”

  I sighed, because I felt that same frustration, which had the man jumping up in surprise … and I did flinch that time.

  “Oh my God,” he gasped, rushing to me and pulling the hair away from my face. “Can you hear me?”

  He leaned down as if I was going to speak to him. Wait, why was that a bad idea? He was here against his will, too—at least, I thought I was here against my will.

  “Yes,” I answered, then prayed that I didn’t just fuck myself by answering.

  “Holy shit,” he ran his fingers through my hair. “I don’t have much time. I won’t tell them that you’re awake. I’ll be back later to feed you. Will you be alright until then?”

  “Yes.” My dry throat made me wish for something to drink.

  “Hang in there. We’ll figure this out,” he managed to whisper, as a bang came from the door. “There’s been no change, but she’s dehydrated. I’ll need to give her fluids today.”

  “Any idea why she remains in this state,” a cool voice asked, and it made my skin crawl with a thousand ants.

  “Since I don’t know her history, what she is, or how she got to be in this state, I can’t even begin to guess.”

  “We’ll consider that. Her condition has improved under your ministrations, and if she continues to improve, we might gift you to her once she’s woken.”

  “What is she to you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “She will be the end of this territory … but she’ll also be the beginning.”

  The banging from the door woke me from a doze. I quickly turned my head away from the entry so I it wouldn’t raise suspicion. Silence entered and continued as the door closed again. For a second, I was terrified that it was someone else, and not the doctor.

  “Are you awake?” the doctor whispered—so quietly, I almost missed it.

  “Hmm,” I murmured, following his lead wi
th making as little sound as possible.

  “We don’t have much time,” he said, rustling around the small space.

  I took a chance and turned my head. The doctor’s appearance surprised me, not at all what I expected; he was young, fit, and looked to have been beaten recently. One eye was surrounded in black, while the left one was swollen shut. Small cuts and abrasions covered his face and what I could see of his forearms. He favored his right side, so either a leg or a rib was injured, I guessed, not knowing exactly how I knew that.

  “You look as bad as I feel,” I croaked.

  “I’d like to say that I’ve had worse, but I’m not that macho.” He managed a small grin, but the split in his bottom lip stopped him from smiling fully.

  “What have they done to you?” I was horrified at his treatment, and frustrated that I couldn’t remember. “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

  “Your condition has been deteriorating for some time, now. They’ve brought in other specialists but nothing worked. I was their last resort.”

  “Are you some sort of extra special doctor?” I tried to make my question light, but I had no idea who he was, or his situation.

  “Not particularly.” He shook his head as I noticed the bag in his hands for the first time. “I just recently finished school and was supposed to start my residency before I was drugged and dragged here.” He withdrew an IV bag, followed by clear tubing. “You’ve been unresponsive and this is the only way to hydrate and get you the nutrients that you need.”

  I nodded, because that made sense. I’d seen coma patients before when I was sick. When I was sick? I remember that I was sick. Dying, actually, but after many treatments, I had gotten better. Not cured.

  “May I?” He pointed at my arm, and I nodded. He gently grabbed it and pulled it up, then tucked my hand between his elbow and chest so he could use both hands. “I left the port in your arm so I didn’t have to keep poking you every time.”

  “I appreciate that.” I watched as he fiddled with the tubing.

  Once the IV was in place he carefully put my arm down while he held the bag up.

  “Do you know how you got here?” he asked, crouching as best he could to peer at my eyes.

  “No,” I whispered, hating how vulnerable I sounded. I needed to be strong; that was hard when you had a blank brain with no idea what you needed to be strong for.

  “Memory loss is a natural side effect. What’s the last thing you remember?”

  “I … I’m not sure.” I wasn’t lying. There was a whole lifetime of memories there, I just couldn’t seem to find them.

  “It’s alright—don’t try to force it. Whatever happened to you played havoc with your mind. I wouldn’t have been surprised if you didn’t wake up, at all.”

  That’s comforting. At least I now knew that I was extraordinary, or probably stubborn—that sounded more like me. Didn’t it?

  Why was this so hard? I bit my lip to keep from crying. Tears gathered, anyway. I was locked up somewhere, with no memory, no idea what these people wanted; I didn’t even know if I had family or friends.

  “Shhh,” the doctor said, softly. He didn’t waste any words, because nothing he could say would make me feel better.

  I felt like death had come for me, and instead of taking me to the afterlife, my soul was fumbled around before being shoved back into my body. This wasn’t a physical injury, but maybe something deeper?

  “What am I going to do?” I sniffled, tears leaking from my eyes unchecked.

  “You’re going to stay strong and figure a way out of here.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Well, you aren’t alone. I’m here, but I’m not like you,” he mumbled, sheepishly.

  I looked him over best I could—it was hard to get a read on him. He was average height, maybe a bit taller, but the extensive injuries made it difficult to decipher anything else. The one good eye I could see was brown and ordinary, not like the strange array of eye colors supes had. He wasn’t plain, and he didn’t fit the word simple or ordinary.

  He was … human?

  I gasped when my mind confirmed that he was human, a Pure human, in fact.

  “Oh God, you’re … you’re human. A Pure human.” I was in awe because Pures were so rare nowadays—I’d only seen one in my life, and it was at a distance.

  “How do you know that?” His brow wrinkled, but then it smoothed with comprehension. “You’re a shifter. You can smell that I’m human.”

  “I’m not a shifter,” I corrected automatically, like I’d heard that comparison before. “I have no idea what I am.”

  “Then how did you know I’m human?”

  I shrugged because I didn’t know, and I got the feeling that the me, with all her memories, didn’t know, either. There’s some strange mind stuff going on up in here. “I’m sorry that you’re here taking care of me.” I felt awful that he was here because of me.

  “If it wasn’t me, then it would’ve been someone else. However, you are a marvel, and I’m glad that I’m here.” he tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

  “Thank you. What’s your name?”

  “Royce.”

  Though it was screwed up, I was glad he was here and that I wasn’t alone.

  The door banged again, startling us both.

  I quickly turned my head, while Royce stayed where he was, going about administering the bag of fluid into my body. When I heard the metal door open, I did my best to keep my breathing slow and even like someone in a coma. Footsteps on concrete echoed through the room and I realized that there was more than one set.

  “Any changes?” a gruff voice asked, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

  “None. I’m not sure what else I can do,” Royce responded, sounding defeated.

  “Keep her alive. She’ll pull through, it’ll just take time.”

  “Do you know what she is? If you do it could shed some light on her condition.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t have any idea, but I’m doing all I can to figure it out.” His voice took on a greedy tone. I knew in that moment that I needed to escape, because whatever this guy was, he was far from human, and for some reason he wanted—no, needed—me for something.

  “I’ll keep her alive,” Royce promised. I felt that there was more to it than what he was saying.

  “I know you will.” A clap sounded, like a hand on a shoulder, but the grunt of pain from Royce indicated that it was a warning. “Gwenna, make sure he gets cleaned up.”

  “Yes, sir” a female voice intoned, respectfully, and I again had that tickle of recognition when she spoke.

  Footsteps faded away as whomever it was left, but the fact that Royce remained quiet indicated that Gwenna was still in the room.

  “I hope, for your sake, that she wakes soon,” the woman hissed.

  She sounded pissed and I had no idea why. There was no empathy in her voice, only disdain and disgust. I must have done something terrible. That was the only explanation I could come up with.

  “There’s only so much I can do.” The sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the room, and the grunts of pain from Royce had me second-guessing this act.

  “Take that as incentive to do better,” the woman hissed, again. I felt my hand ball into a fist at his mistreatment. Who was this bitch?

  Royce was doing everything he could to help me. He could only do so much since they’d given him absolutely nothing; it was like they expected me to just miraculously heal myself.

  That last thought jarred something in my mind. A memory surfaced of blood boiling on my hands, but there was no pain, as it flaked and floated away as ash.

  Oh my God. What … could I heal myself?

  Before I could dwell on it further, a heavy body fell on me, but not completely as Royce was able to catch himself before he fully crushed me.

  “Finish up so I can take you to get cleaned up,” the woman snarled, then slammed the door closed.

  I could hear
Royce’s labored breathing above me, and anger flared again. How could these people treat him like this? They were insane, and if I lived through all of this, I’d make them pay.

  That inner declaration spurred enough strength into my limbs and I was able to push my upper body up with my hands. My arms shook with the exertion, but I didn’t care. I had to make sure he was alright.

  Carefully, I got my legs underneath me and twisted so I could see Royce. He was sitting at the end of the bed where my feet had been. His arm was holding his ribs on the left side. His breaths were shallow, and I knew it must be agony to breathe.

  I didn’t know what to do. How could I help him? Broken ribs were no joke. They were painful and dangerous if not treated properly.

  “Royce,” I used my shaky arms to drag myself closer, and nearly falling off the raised platform. “What can I do?”

  He shook his head, still breathing shallowly. I was terrified that this was the beginning of the end for him. My only friend in this strange place I woke up in, without memories, was being brutally treated, and it was because of me. I couldn’t let this continue. Next time they came in here, I’d reveal that I was awake, then bargain for his release.

  “I know … what you’re … thinking,” Royce ground out, between clenched teeth, but despite the pain his was in, there was still a glimmer of light in his eyes.

  “What am I thinking?” I asked, placing my hand on his shoulder, trying to offer comfort but not being able to do much else.

  “Don’t reveal yourself,” he answered, as he started to relax slowly. “That’s what they want. Don’t give them anything.”