throat, silently cursing the evil woman who had forced my mother to run from me. “So it’s true. I’m a Chimera? I’m not even sure what that means.”
“I can answer that,” Deva said. “It’s a word we use for higher races hybrids. When the higher races interbreed, the offspring can only be born as the race of the strongest parent. To have a true hybrid requires a binding element to merge the souls, which is where humans come into the mix. Only a human of the Bloodline has the potential to become a Chimera. It’s because you possess high concentrations of multiple races’ blood, activated by the divine blood you carry. So you’re both dragon and ursa, with strong enough traits that you can manifest magic of those races, and may even be able to shift as your power matures. Your father is not a Chimera, since his Bloodline blood is purely ursa, but it’s strong enough in him to allow him to shift.”
“So anyone with strong enough blood can shift?”
“Potentially. Manifest powers, at the very least. I’ve met a lot of Bloodline humans with even faint traces who were able to manifest powers to some degree. Humans with turul blood who are great musicians, with ursa blood who are skilled botanists, nymphaea blood who are beautiful dancers, but otherwise lack any more detectable magic.”
“And dragons? What’s their defining skill?”
“Sex,” came a deadpan reply from just behind me. I turned and gave Murdoc a glare but only received a wicked grin in response, followed by a suggestive squeeze of my ass through my damp jeans. He trotted around us and up the steps onto the porch, giving us a perfect view of his round, toned ass.
The men all filed in through the french doors, the conversation raucous and celebratory as they began cleaning up the glass and making a plan for the afternoon. In the midst of the activity, the room filled with swirling white and golden smoke as the dragons exerted a little power to conjure clothing for the lot of them. That settled, the focus shifted to feeding everyone, and four volunteered to fly to the mainland for supplies.
Mom led me to the Adirondack chairs situated around an open fireplace on one corner of the deck overlooking the Sound. With a flick of her wrist, the coals in the center were ablaze. My skin tingled with awareness of the magic.
“A dragon’s skill always depends on its color,” Deva said. “Your three dragon mates are Guardians to their core. They’re the protectors and the architects. Not only will they build you the most beautiful home, they will defend it to their dying breaths. Ursa are craftsmen at heart too. It always surprises me how well my fate hounds do when matching souls with their mates, but mine have outdone themselves with you, I think.”
“I’m not even going to ask about these mysterious hounds. But what I would like to know is whether the band would honor me by playing at my gallery show this weekend. Assuming my sculpture is still intact. If this latest attack ruined it again, I’m going to have to ask for Chase’s address and go break some of his shit for a change.”
Deva laughed. “I will not only give you his address. I’ll drift you there myself and hand you the hammer. But if you really want to stick it to Chaos, take away his chocolate.”
34
April
Late that evening after an enormous barbecue, I stood on the top step of the deck, looking down the hill toward the studio. All the turul vodka in the world couldn’t fend off the dread over what I’d find when I rolled open that huge door.
A warm presence slipped up beside me, and I instinctively leaned toward it, sighing in contentment when Gray slid an arm around me and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“You almost make me believe everything will be all right.”
He hummed softly into my hair. “Only almost? If so, I’m doing a piss poor job of being your mate. Everything will be all right, April. Even if the thing is in pieces, we’ll work things out. The seven of us are a well-oiled machine.”
His statement evoked imagery of greased pistons, and I snorted at the natural progression of thoughts that resulted. I buried my face against his sturdy shoulder, his barely contained laugh vibrating through his chest when he picked up on my thoughts.
“Naughty girl,” he whispered, his breath tickling across my scalp,