Alight: Legacy of Flames, #1

By Emma L. Adams

It's not easy being one of the last living dragon shifters in London.

 

Two years ago, when the faeries attacked the mortal realm, all supernaturals were dragged into the open.  Unfortunately for dragon shifters like Ember and her sister, dragons are still hunted by humans and supernaturals alike. Keeping a low profile is difficult with monsters roaming the streets, but Ember and her band of rogue shifters have managed to survive.

 

Until their oldest enemy, the supernatural-hunting Orion League, emerges from the shadows and captures Ember's sister.

 

To get her back, Ember is prepared to walk into the depths of London's magical underworld, even if it means kidnapping a lethal ex-hunter who'd like nothing better than to add her name to his kill list. His inside knowledge of the League is the key to saving her sister, but with their allies turning on them, Ember must choose who to trust or meet the same end as the other dragon shifters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emma Adams
• Release date: May 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201525460

Emma L. Adams

Emma L. Adams spent her childhood creating imaginary worlds to compensate for a disappointingly average reality, so it was probably inevitable that she ended up writing fantasy novels. She has a BA in English Literature with Creative Writing from Lancaster University, where she spent three years exploring the Lake District and penning strange fantastical adventures. Now, Emma lives in the middle of England and is the international bestselling author of over 50 novels including the world-hopping Alliance series, the urban fantasy Changeling Chronicles series, and the fantasy adventure Relics of Power trilogy. When she's not immersed in her own fictional universes, Emma can be found with her head in a book, playing video games, or wandering around the world in search of adventure. Visit www.emmaladams.com to find out more about Emma's books.

Book preview

ALIGHT

It's not easy being one of the last living dragon shifters in London.

---

Two years ago, when the faeries attacked the mortal realm, all supernaturals were dragged into the open. Unfortunately for dragon shifters like Ember and her sister, dragons are still hunted by humans and supernaturals alike. Keeping a low profile is difficult with monsters roaming the streets, but Ember and her band of rogue shifters have managed to survive.

---

Until their oldest enemy, the supernatural-hunting Orion League, emerges from the shadows and captures Ember's sister.

---

To get her back, Ember is prepared to walk into the depths of London's magical underworld, even if it means kidnapping a lethal ex-hunter who'd like nothing better than to add her name to his kill list. His inside knowledge of the League is the key to saving her sister, but with their allies turning on them, Ember must choose who to trust or meet the same end as the other dragon shifters.

1

The strange light appeared on a cloudy Tuesday when I was supposed to be helping Cori with her algebra homework.

One second, everything looked normal. The next, the sky above London burned an angry red like the inside of a flame. It happened so suddenly it’d have been out of the ordinary even if it hadn’t been the middle of the day.

Huh, I muttered. That’s weird.

‘Weird’ in my line of work was nothing new. My sister and fellow dragon shifter, Coriander, perched on her chair and doodled on her homework, while I tilted my head, trying to see the source of the light. It must be an illusion, otherwise the non-supernaturals would be coming out of their houses to stare at it. The most basic rule of being one of us: don’t flaunt your power if you don’t want to end up dead in an alley.

What’s up, Ember? asked Cori.

I pointed. Red sky at two in the afternoon… is that a thing now?

The redness slipped away, leaving the sky the same slate-grey colour it had been before. Cori frowned, leaning forward in her seat.

Did you see that? I asked her.

Yeah… maybe. Might have been a trick of the light. She settled back and returned to chewing her pen over the page of equations.

A dazzling flash lit up the air. Now there’s lightning?

What’s this, a weather commentary?

No, really. That light isn’t normal.

I frowned and listened. No thunder followed. My magically attuned senses were muddled with so many traces from the various shifters living in this building that I couldn’t sense what might be causing the light outside. Whatever it was must be really big or too far away to sense.

I looked back at Cori. She and I were homeschooled. At least, I had been up until I turned eighteen. For the last three years, I’d worked at a bar, scraping together every penny I could to pay our rent. Rhea had taken us in as a favour, but she risked her life by keeping so many supernaturals in the same place. Someday, I’d get us our own flat, but for now, our attic room was home. Weird home for a dragon, but we weren’t built with the modern world in mind. We were supposed to be extinct.

At a glance, neither of us carried a trace of the reptilian beasts we’d one day be able to transform into whenever we wanted. Our auburn hair was more like a candle than a furnace. Our eyes were grey—like ashes, Cori said. They glowed when we were pissed off, though neither of us had fully shifted yet. My claws would come out when I was angry or scared, but that was a rarity.

Sometimes I ran a hand over my shoulder blades and imagined wings bursting free, but that’d never happen. Not in public, at least. I’d seen Rhea’s gargoyle form only a handful of times in all the years I’d known her. Half her pupils were gargoyles, the rest wolf or bird shifters. Others, like us, were less classifiable. Fewer than five people actually knew what we were. Because, you know, we were pretty much an impossibility. I’d spent the last year in anticipation of my first shift, though I didn’t admit so to Rhea. We were supposed to stay hidden, not crave open spaces to spread our wings and rain terror down on unsuspecting humans. Okay, that last part’s a joke. Modern dragons don’t spread destruction and fire. We’re too civilised for that.

London didn’t feel like a cage, but the presence of the hunters who’d happily hunt us down and sell us for profit did. And speaking of hunters… as I looked out the window again, a black-clad figure ran down the street. A member of the Orion League—aka, the reason for our secrecy. It was by no means unusual to see a hunter during the day, but never this close to our home.

A slither of fear ran down the back of my neck, and my heart began to beat faster as two more hunters joined the first. They weren’t coming this way. They ran through the tight London street in the direction where I’d seen the weird flash.

They aren’t hunting us. They don’t know we’re here. Rhea had expertly hidden the locations of our hideouts. The hunters wouldn’t be able to find us unless we deliberately drew their attention.

Except they didn’t normally walk out so blatantly in broad daylight. If the weird red light in the sky could be called ‘daylight’. The League operated in secrecy, not strutting around publicly proclaiming themselves as the big bad dragon slayers. They were vigilantes in a way, working in the shadows via a chain of command, taken underground for terrifying initiation rituals and taught all supernaturals were evil and deserved to be exterminated. Well, that’s what Rhea said. And I believed her.

I took a step back from the window, suddenly certain they’d look up and see through our tinted windows. Ridiculous, of course. Our wards kept out intruders. The illusion spell worked on anyone, even the League.

So… who, or what, were they hunting? Had a supernatural wandered into the open, and used magic? No way. Every supernatural learned early on that keeping their abilities secret from humans was the cardinal rule. Not because regular humans would kill us, but the League would. If Cori and I knew anything, it was that we were targets.

My earliest memory is of us running through Euston’s Underground Station at rush hour, my hand gripping Cori’s hard to avoid losing her. I remember the rumbling of a train underneath our feet and the cool air of a huge industrial fan. Cori’s memories begin a bit later, but neither of us can remember how we got there. The first twelve years of my life are a total blank, fogged before that particular memory came into focus. Five-year-old Cori holding onto my hand as I led her through the noisy confusion of the station until we ran up against the ticket barriers. After that, I remember fumbling in my pocket and finding two tickets. I didn’t remember where I’d got them. Nor who’d given me the note with a name and address scribbled on it in handwriting that wasn’t mine. Neither of us had the faintest idea who’d written it, or even where we came from. Hundreds of trains reached Euston station every day, from all parts of the UK. Our entire history was wreathed in fog as thick as the mist that rose off the Thames on the day we arrived. Our accents were hard to place. All we had were the clothes on our backs, a mysterious note, and a leather-bound book, mostly containing blank pages, and other pages covered in a foreign script nobody knew how to read. The few English words it did contain were downright terrifying.

Cori and I weren’t human.

I’d looked after her since that day, when I’d followed the note’s instructions until they brought us to Rhea’s place. Sometimes I wished I could remember the past, but I liked my life. The secrecy didn’t bother me. I’d rather live in secret than fall prey to the Orion League.

Most ordinary people wouldn’t recognise a hunter if they saw one any more than they would a dragon shifter. They were experts at stealth and blending into crowds. Those with unusually sharp eyesight might spot them climbing over the rooftops, but would probably assume they were stunt artists. The hunters were almost as accomplished at hiding themselves as the supernaturals they hunted. London, with its tall buildings, tangled streets and communities old and new rubbing shoulders against one another, was the perfect hiding place. But we were okay. The days when people were arrested on suspicion of witchcraft were long gone. The hunters were dangerous, but no more than other everyday hazards. Keep quiet, don’t reveal your magic, and don’t draw their attention. Simple.

Until that day.

I risked a look outside. No fewer than seven hunters were on the road now, walking at a brisk step towards the source of the light. There was no mistaking their target.

Someone’s using magic! I gasped.

Cori ran to my side. What the—what are they doing? Her voice ended on a squeak as she dug her hands into my arm. The League knows about us. They’re coming.

Not for us, I murmured. If someone had used a spell… then they’ve drawn the hunters right to them.

Not just the hunters. Anyone would see the light. The sky was on fire.

Or so it seemed from this angle. Reddish light smothered the thick clouds, like an early sunset. The sun had all but disappeared behind it, sending dark red-tinted shadows down the roads. As I watched, the colours shifted along the spectrum—orange to yellow to green, then blue, purple, grey…

It’s faerie magic, said Cori. See the colours?

Faerie magic can’t be seen if you don’t have the Sight, I said automatically.

I know that. She rolled her eyes at me, though panic had begun to creep into her expression. But why…?

Because someone wants us to see, said a soft voice. Rhea. Faeries can choose to reveal their magic to anyone by removing the glamour.

I knew that, too. Faeries were able to tone down their glamour if they liked, but they rarely did. It wasn’t worth the risk. They might not be as outright hunted as shifters were, but no hunter would miss the chance to torture a supernatural.

The three of us watched the beacon cross the sky as slowly, irrecoverably, it sank in. Someone wanted everyone to see their magic. Humans, non-humans, supernaturals… hunters.

We need to run, I said, half to myself. Everyone in London will have seen that sign.

Cori stared at me. Aren’t you overreacting a little?

She’s right. And every member of the Orion League knows what it means, said Rhea. It’s their prophesied war. A war on all supernaturals.

For another second, we remained suspended, as though if none of us moved, time would rewind and everything would make sense again.

Then a scream came from outside, followed by another. A chorus rose from the heart of the city, a sound of nightmares.

We all moved at the same time. The emergency drill was routine thanks to endless rehearsals which had usually seemed like a trivial waste of time. We each kept an emergency pack with enough supplies to last us a few days, and we had the various escape routes through the Underground memorised. I hitched the bag onto my back, strapping two long knives to my belt. I didn’t like fighting with weapons—my claws itched to come out—but I preferred to pretend to be human up until the last possible moment.

Cori stood in the corridor, hopping from one foot to the other with a wild look in her eyes.

What are you doing? I asked. C’mon.

The plan said to burn the evidence that we lived here, said Cori.

There’s no point, Rhea said, emerging behind us carrying a rucksack. Every supernatural in the city’s going to be vulnerable, but the hunters won’t know where to look if everyone flees at once. There are too many of us.

Not us, said Cori. Ember and I are the only—

A deafening screeching noise drowned out her words. Then the ground shook under our feet.

Earthquake?

No. Rhea shook her head. We’ll head straight for the Underground.

We ran downstairs, out the back door. The overgrown garden proved more of a hindrance, but one look over my shoulder told me we’d made the right choice. A giant—it could only be a giant—walked down the street, its bulbous head hovering above the rooftops, its huge fists swinging at its sides. A lamp post went flying, followed by a recycling bin. Every step sent a tremor underneath our feet. My legs went weak as my heart rate accelerated. I wasn’t sure even a dragon could outrun something that size.

"Giants?" Cori mouthed, her eyes stretched wide.

Worse, said Rhea.

She wasn’t kidding. Our garden was protected by witch spells, despite the untamed plants, but over the fence, the plants in other gardens warped and twisted and grew. Tiny imps leaped out of the air, teeth bared in murderous grins. Winged monsters soared high, dive-bombing the street behind us. Flashes lit up the sky, which otherwise grew darker until it seemed like the grey clouds were touching the earth.

What’s happening this time? Cori whimpered, clutching a knife in shaking hands.

Rhea didn’t answer but led the way to the back fence. Then she stopped. The spells end here. Once you’ve climbed over the fence—run. Stick with me. Don’t lose one another. Ready?

I nodded, my throat as dry as tarmac in a heatwave, my palms curled into damp fists around my knives. My claws pressed against my fingertips, ready to burst out if anything threatened my sister or my mentor.

Ready, croaked Cori.

Rhea vaulted the fence, and Cori and I followed at a run. One second, the garden enclosed us. The next, we were surrounded by thick, unnaturally low clouds. Inside, clawed things appeared and disappeared, horrifying noises sounded, and Rhea shifted into her stone gargoyle form.

The fearsome sight of her seven-foot-tall winged frame sent any monsters in our path scurrying away. Cori and I followed at a dead sprint, legs screaming, lungs burning. At the street’s end, Rhea stopped. Even though I knew her, I faltered for a second at the sight of her curved stone-like claws, her beaked face. But that wasn’t what stopped my breath.

The Underground station was buried in rubble. From the ruins, screams rang out, and a giant tore through the red brick with fearsome strength. More winged creatures hovered around, diving at any surviving humans crawling from the wreckage. Other people ran through the streets or cowered in alcoves, as though if they hid just out of sight, the madness would pass them by.

The giant had left a trail of devastation in its wake, but seemed to be heading the opposite way—towards the busy tourist district. My stomach lurched at the sight of bloody bodies discarded in the road. Giants were fae, and as far as I knew, none still existed in this realm. Something had gone very, very wrong.

Whenever we’d run through the drill in the past, we’d been operating under the assumption that none of us would ever be able to shift openly. But with the sky on fire, with the whole world panicking, the balance had shifted. My mind churned through possibilities. What if every supernatural came out of hiding? The hunters would be revealed as the sadistic animals they really were. Maybe they’d be locked away. Maybe…

Who are you kidding? I thought as my feet pounded against the paving stones. Those screams belonged to the ordinary people confronted by the underworld living underneath their feet. The terror of the unknown. No human weapon, no matter how powerful, could stand up to the strongest supernaturals. Mages could burn cities down, and had to exercise extreme self-control not to do so. Necromancers could unleash an army of the dead. Shifters could transform into fearsome beasts. And faeries… the amount of power contained inside their realm was capable of burning this one to ashes.

We stopped running at the entrance to the local park—or Cori did. Rhea landed beside us, stone-like wings spread wide to repel any attackers. Then she shifted back into human form.

It’s the faeries, she growled. They’re coming here.

The faeries! Cori clutched a stitch in her side.

Flashes lit up the sky, alternating between green and blue, dazzlingly bright. Meanwhile, a thick fog filled the gaps in between, sweeping through the streets. Already, the path through the park was shrouded. Figures began to appear on our path, faint and indistinct.

Ghosts, whispered Rhea.

Ghosts?

What the hell now? whimpered Cori, echoing my own thoughts.

Climb on my back, said Rhea.

Both of us stared at her. What?

This isn’t the time for secrecy, said Rhea. Faerie’s attacking this realm. We’re at war.

And she shifted again. A second later, her grey gargoyle form stood in her place.

I let Cori climb in front of me then followed, my hands carefully guiding her between Rhea’s feathered wings. I’d never even flown in a plane before, but a strange sense of calm briefly rose as Rhea left the ground, strong wings beating. The buildings and roads dropped away, and my senses surged in a way they never had before—yet still felt intimately familiar. Like reliving a memory.

A large black shape appeared ahead of us in the sky. More than one. Worse, the fog remained as thick as ever, filled with transparent faces. Were spirits from Death attacking us as well? Rhea dropped to avoid them, screeching in pain as something struck her arm, nearly knocking Cori and me out of the air.

Rhea’s guttural gargoyle cry cut through the air as she dived—not a minute too soon. The sky was thick with black horses, moving too fast for me to see who rode them. Snarling beasts followed, hounds the same size as Rhea’s gargoyle form or bigger. I hung on with one hand and gripped Cori’s jacket with the other. She’d buried her head in Rhea’s feathers, sobbing in terror.

We landed on the road, Rhea’s clawed feet tearing at the tarmac. Right now, I’d take the monsters on the ground over those in the air. But there were enough of them down here. Shadowy, clawed creatures appeared, tearing into anyone who got too close.

I grabbed my knife, positioning myself to cover Cori’s back. The nearest Underground station was metres away. It seemed stupid to go there, considering the collapsed roof, but supernaturals had access to a network of tunnels nobody else used. They’d get us to a safe house.

As we reached the entrance to the Underground, a group of figures poured out. All wore black in a horrifyingly familiar ensemble.

The Orion League. Hunters. Masked, dressed in black, and armed heavily.

We carried on running. We didn’t have much choice.

The first bullet whistled over my head, raising my hair, and struck the nearest car-sized beast, a fearsome creature which appeared to be made of solid tree bark. Another three followed. Bang. Bang. Bang. In the time it took to blink, the beast fell. Holy shit. Even at full power, it’d take several shifters to bring down a creature that size.

The hunters fanned out, as though they’d rehearsed the formation a thousand times. Locking onto their next opponent.

Us.

They’re trying to kill us. Either they thought we were the enemy, too, or they wouldn’t miss the chance to take down a supernatural. The thick street-level smog wasn’t enough to hide us, even running as fast as we were.

Bang. The hair rose from my skull and my heart stopped, but they’d aimed at another shifter who’d tried to make a run for the Underground. We weren’t the only ones attempting to escape via that route.

The shifter—gargoyle—made a choked noise and fell to the road. One single shot to the throat had brought him down. The hunters hadn’t even broken formation.

Oh god.

Three wolves had nearly reached the Underground when two hunters abruptly swung around, firing at them. Not at the faeries, but at the shifters trying to escape. My stomach lurched. Two of the wolves were smaller than average. Children. Stop!

Rhea grabbed my arm and hauled me back, not a second too soon. The other wolf—their mother—roared at the others to run, but it was too late. Two shots fired, each hitting one of the smaller wolves in the skull. The bullets killed instantly no matter where they struck, but it was an execution tactic the hunters used to show their lack of mercy. As they turned their aim onto the mother wolf, another fired at us.

I dragged Cori back into the smoke, out of the way. Protective rage exploded inside me, and my claws broke free. Thick red scales spread from my elbows to my wrists, ending in curved claws roughly the length of my forearm. The nearest hunter fired on me, but I ducked, pushing Cori behind me. Rhea hadn’t transformed back into her gargoyle form yet. If she did, she’d make a bigger target.

Bang. The mother wolf was dead. Magic bullets, as we called them—ironically, because they were as poisonous to magic users as iron was to faeries—could even kill a shifter in beast form, with a single shot. Nothing in our training had prepared us for open combat with them.

Get Cori into the tunnel! Rhea shouted. Run!

Before her words sank in, she’d thrown herself into the fray, turning into her