She taught Grald the secret of ripping the heart out of a living human body and taking over that body, making it his own—a task far less complicated and time-consuming than casting the supreme illusion spell that changed Draconas into a human. Unlike Maristara, who used the human bodies she took to disguise her true form, Grald usurped the human bodies, giving them his name and taking over their personalities. He was on his sixth human right now, and this was his favorite. He had found something better, however, and he was looking forward eagerly to taking over the next body—that of his own son.

Before that could happen, Anora and Grald had to kill Draconas, who had done everything in his power to thwart them.

“I think you would understand,” Anora said silently to Draconas, speaking to his back, as he stood across from her in the doorway of the building, sharpening his walking staff into a spear. “I think you might even take our side, but ... I can’t be sure. You have formed attachments among the humans. You hid Melisande’s children away from us. If Ven had not cried out to us for help, we might never have discovered them.”

“Quit sniveling, Anora. He should have died long ago.”

Grald’s colors intruded rudely into hers, and Anora, haughtily, didn’t deign to reply She saw no need to explain herself to underlings. Maristara let Grald take too many liberties. She should keep him in his place.

“Where are you?” Anora asked, her colors chill.

“I am in sight of the house. My son summoned me,” Grald added with smug triumph. “He betrayed his brother, as I told you he would, to gain the female. Like father, like son.” Grald chuckled.

“I don’t trust him,” Anora said. “Ven is devious—devious as a dragon—in many ways. I should know. I spent weeks in his company.”

“All the better for me when I take over his body.”

You’ll acquire a brain, at least, Anora thought, but she kept that caustic comment concealed beneath the cold flow of her colors. Dissimulation was not difficult to practice on Grald, who never bothered to look beneath the surface of any conversation.

“Don’t come any closer,” Anora warned. “I’m about to strike.”

“Take care you don’t hurt Ven,” Grald said. “I need his body whole and strong.”

“The only one hurt will be Draconas,” Anora said softly.

She began to creep up on him as he stood, unsuspecting, staring out the door. He was in his human form, holding the spear he’d fashioned in his hand. Across the street, Anora could hear the voices of the human males raised in argument, probably squabbling over the human female. Ideal cover, for they were proving a distraction to Draconas, who looked in that direction and frowned.

“Strike now!” Grald ordered suddenly. “Strike him from behind, before he knows what’s hit him!”