One True Mate: Her Dragon's Fury (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Dragon Guard Book 25) Read online

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Lisa Ladew. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original One True Mate remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Lisa Ladew, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Her Dragon’s Fury

  Dragon Guard Series #25

  by

  Julia Mills

  There Are No Coincidences.

  The Universe Does Not Make Mistakes.

  Fate Will Not Be Denied.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Cover by Linda Boulanger with Tell Tale Book Covers

  Edited and Proofread by Tammy Payne with Book Nook Nuts

  Formatted by Charlene Bauer with Wickedly Bold Creations

  To Lisa Ladew – THANK YOU SO MUCH for letting me into your world – both figuratively and literally! You are not only a BRILLIANT author, but an AMAZING person.

  I’m waiting for the day we meet in person! Talk about fun! And, I did NOT say mleh – I said I would be fangirlin’ like a teenager at a Justin Bieber concert. heeheehee!

  YOU ROCK, LADY! Never stop being you! XOXO

  To All My Readers Everywhere – YOU MAKE MY DAY EVERY SINGLE DAY!

  THANK YOU from the bottom of my big old southern heart!

  I simply could NOT do it without YOU!

  DEDICATION

  Dare to Dream! Find the Strength to Act! Never Look Back!

  Thank you, God.

  To my girls, Liz and Em, I Love You. Every day, every way, always.

  To all the men and women who have battled or are battling breast cancer, you have my heart, my prayers, and my undying support. To those whose battle ended too soon and their loved ones still picking up the pieces, I wish you peace and love. Stay Strong Warriors! This one’s for you!

  Foreword from Lisa Ladew

  Ok, before we even get started in this foreword, can I just say how much I LOVE Julia Mills!??!?! She’s always so happy. BUT, she’s not just sitting there with her dragons and her words, keeping all that happy to herself. No. Her awesomeness mlehs all over people in every interaction: “You rock, you’re awesome, I love your smile. Have a GREAT day!”

  Like, who doesn’t need more people like that in their life?!?!? I told her, “OMG, me and you should be real life friends.” And she’s like, “I’m right here.” And I’m like, “No! You should come to my office and plot with me!” and she blew me off. Lol, was all she said. And I was sad. But then she was sweet and I got over it.

  So, it looks like I’ll have to be content with stalking her books and Facebook posts and newsletter. Whatever bits of sunshine I can catch. Have you seen her dragon giveaways? Those are my favorite.

  Holy shit! Pippa is a freaking dragon herself! And she’s not even a dragon. Fury is going to have his hands full with her. Good thing he’s a badass.

  I hope you love this story as much as I do <3, Lisa

  Index of the Original Language of the Dragon Kin

  Her Dragon’s Fury

  Tá tú sábháilte mo stór………. You are safe, my treasure

  Ní bheidh feidhm ag an Demon díobháil duit mo maité………. This demon shall not harm you, my mate

  Mo cinniúint………. My destiny

  Mo ghrá………. My love

  Mo dheartháir………. My brother

  A chéadsearc………. Sweetheart

  Deartháireacha go deo……….Brothers forever

  Mo stór………. My Treasure

  Ceann álainn………. Beautiful one

  Mo mhac beloved………. My beloved son

  Le haghaidh ár kin………. For our kin

  Mo cheann fiery………. My fiery one

  Tá tú mo ghrá eternal………. You are my eternal love

  Ta’ mo chroi istigh ionat………. My Heart is Within You

  An chuid is fearr de mo chroí ………. The very best of my heart

  Ceann beag………. Little one

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Foreword from Lisa Ladew

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  About Julia

  Also by Julia Mills

  Chapter One

  “Come on, Pip. We really need ya’ on this one.”

  “No, Shep. I just can’t, not after…” Pippa shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to fend off the demons of her last case, the one that nearly cost her the little bit of sanity she had left.

  “But…”

  “But nothing!” She screamed, spinning around so quickly the room was but a blur. Closing the distance between them in three steps, she snarled through gritted teeth, “Stop!” Punctuating every word with a poke to Shep’s chest, she went on, “I. Can’t. Do. It.” Adding another, stronger poke to the hard-muscled chest of the six-foot-two, gray-at-the-temples, fifty-something Head Sheriff for Mule Pass County, Texas, Pippa stood tall and hissed, “Better yet, I won’t do it.”

  Stepping back, he pleaded, at least Shep’s version of pleading, which included messing with the brim of his county-issued, beige Stetson and resting his hand on his thick, dark-brown leather gun belt while he looked at her with hound dog eyes. “But you’re the best damn PI I’ve ever seen. That’s the reason I got the Commissioner to hire you on as my Consulting Detective.” He raised his hand, waving a manila folder in her face. “This woman’s been gone almost a month, and the Feds just now came to me for help.”

  Staring into Shep’s, more properly known as Sheriff Shepherd Bartholin’s, dark green eyes, Pippa refused to budge. It was a Mexican Standoff between two stubborn-as-hell people, and she was sure as shootin’ gonna win. Several long seconds later, certain her point was made, Pippa walked back to the table, turned to her open duffle bag, and continued stuffing it with enough clothes for at least a month.

  Listening to the heels of Shep’s scuffed, brown cowboy boots striking her wooden floors as he paced the length of her living room, Pippa took long, deep cleansing breaths, trying to control her temper. It wasn’t that she didn’t love the old coot. God knew he was the closest thing to a father she’d ever had, even if he had picked her up from shoplifting when she was thirteen. It was the fact that they’d just laid Jason to rest. She needed a break, needed to escape, needed to be anywhere but where she was, thinking about what and who she’d lost.

  Smiling, despite her frustration, images of the day Shep, a rookie at the time, had grabbed the collar of her ratty, old, navy-blue windbreaker and dragged her kicking and screaming back into Woolworth’s filled her mind. The heavenly scent of ice cream sundaes and chocolate malts from the old-fashioned soda counter filled her senses just as it had twelve years ago.

  Closing her eyes, Pippa could hear the man who had become her mentor grumble a whisper as he scolded, “You know better, Pippa Marie. Sister Mary Margaret is gonna be very upset with you.”

  “I don’t care,” the smart-mouthed teenager spat, hiding her fear with a great big dose of attitude. Truth was,
she did care, and worse than that felt really bad for what she’d done. Hated the fact that she’d let the nun down…again.

  Pulling on her jacket so hard that she stumbled and fell back against his stomach, the large silver buckle of his belt digging into the small of her back, Shep warned, “You better watch that back-talkin’, little missy.”

  Unable to sass back before the cop marched her straight into Mr. Wiggins’ office, Pippa rolled her eyes and refused to look at the department store manager as Shep ordered, “Sit down and keep your mouth shut.”

  Turning her head and opening her mouth, ready to fire the witty retort dancing on the tip of her tongue, the tall, thin, red-headed teen with freckles covering her nose and cheeks, snapped her lips shut as the deputy leaned down, looked her right in the eye and growled, “I said, sit down and be quiet.”

  Seeing the cop had reached the end of his rope, Pippa did as she was told, wondering if this was the time she’d finally find out what juvie was all about. Pushing the limits and testing her boundaries – rushes of adrenalin - had been the only way to escape the visions haunting her every thought for as long as she could remember.

  No matter what she touched, where she was or who she talked to, pictures of their past, their emotions, even their pain and their joy, filled her brain near to bursting. She was forced to walk in their shoes, feel their feelings and relive their every action whether she wanted to or not.

  It was absolutely maddening, along with infuriating, exasperating and not to mention, made human interaction damn near impossible. And now she’d gone and done it, pushed her luck once too often. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to lose the only person who ever believed in her and the only place that felt like home.

  Mother Superior Mary Margaret McCarthy, the Head Mistress of St Frances of Assisi Home for Girls, was the one person in all the world who saw a human being when she looked at Pippa, not a check from the state, a way to get free food or as a babysitter for a bunch of bratty young’uns. The nun recognized a girl who had only known pain and disappointment, but who was still worthy of love and respect. It hadn’t been love at first sight for either of them, but after a time, the two strong-willed women made peace and two years after arriving on St Frances’ doorstep, Pippa trusted Sister Mary Margaret enough to tell the older woman her secret.

  Pip had been in the garden, pulling weeds when the Mother Superior stopped by on her way to morning prayer. It all come rolling out in a bundle of sobs and tears when the nun simply asked, “How are you today, Pippa Marie?”

  To her utter surprise, the nun hadn’t told Pippa that she was crazy or making up lies for attention like one of her foster mothers had. Instead, the Mother Superior saw the young girl’s ability as a gift, one that should be used for the good of the Lord. Sister Mary Margaret said Pippa had a light in her soul that had come from God, one that made her special, and in no way a freak.

  The nun tried to help the young girl. She taught her to channel the overwhelming overload of images and emotions that Pippa experienced on a daily basis through meditation and prayers. And, for a while, it actually worked. But just like a band-aid, it had worn off, lost its sticky and frayed at the edges.

  Before long, Pippa reverted to her old ways. Sitting in a dark room, with candles all around her, whispering her prayers, flew straight out the window and was quickly replaced by the hunt for excitement and thrills, anything to fill her mind so full that the stupid visions couldn’t get in. Problem was, this time she’d been caught.

  “Are you listenin’ to me, Pippa Marie?” The sheriff deputy’s gruff question pulled the little girl from her daydreams all those years ago… just as his bark of, “Dammit, Pip, talk to me!” Did in the present. Not to mention, he growled, “What the hell is this?”

  Looking over her shoulder, Pippa shrugged when she saw Shep pointing at the map of the United States she’d hung on the wall.

  “Practicing darts?” He asked as she watched his index finger run along the edge of the fake-feather flight out of the corner of her eye.

  “Yeah, something like that,” Pippa mumbled under her breath, ignoring the knowing look in the Sherriff’s eye as he came closer, throwing the manila file folder he’d earlier shook in her face onto the table beside her bag.

  Leaning on the back of the chair closest to him, Shep’s head fell forward as he sighed, “Look, I know what happened is hard. Hell, Butch and Kenny were two of my oldest friends and Jason was a damn fine private investigator, unfortunately, this is all part of the job.”

  When he lifted his head, Pippa was shocked to see his unshed tears and hear the crack in his voice as he went on, “But when that call came across the radio, I swear…” Pausing, the strongest man Pippa had ever known cleared his throat and as a single tear rolled down his cheek, he admitted, “I nearly drove off the rode ‘cause I thought you were the one who was dead.”

  The silence caused by that one admission was deafening. The tension palpable. Sweat slid down her spine and wet her palms. Under the guise of wiping her hand on her jeans, Pippa slid her fingers into her pocket and wrapped them around the black handled Kershaw pocket knife, the only thing she had left of her best friend and partner, Jason.

  Memories, his memories, raced through her mind like a runaway train. One right after another, flashing and flipping, going forward and then backward until they finally fell into sequence, playing like a video she’d recorded on her cell phone.

  No longer was she in her house on Wurzburg Drive, but instead Pippa was transported back in time, experiencing the whole horrible ordeal through the eyes of her partner. She saw the north side of the empty warehouse. Could feel the cold steel of the grip of his Sig Sauer against her palm. Felt her muscles tightening, ready to fight to save an innocent child.

  A picture of Joey, the six-year-old who’d been taken from his front yard by some scumbag looking for a million dollars, was in her head in that moment, just as it had in the ex-marine’s ten days earlier. The whisper of the thick rubber soles of his combat boots against the steel stairs leading to the top floor echoed through her mind.

  She saw Butch and Kenny over Jason’s shoulder. Sensed their need to save the boy and capture the kidnapper. Tension was running high. The three men responsible for the takedown, as they called it, were chomping at the bit to put another baddie behind bars. Reaching the top step, ten paces from the only door on that level, suddenly everything switched to slow motion.

  She was standing in front of the entrance, slightly to the right. Her lips moved, just as Jason’s had when he mouthed, “Three…Two…One.” Vibrations shot up her leg and into her hip just as Jason kicked the wooden door off its hinges and shouted, “Hands on your head. Back away from the child.”

  She saw the fear in Joey’s eyes, his tear-stained cheeks and the dirty, gray duct tape covering his mouth. Her eyes snapped to the kidnapper’s. Icy nails of dread slid down her spine at the look of laughter in his cold, dead stare. She took in his long dark hair and the bulk of his shoulders. The bastard was evil incarnate, absolutely no doubt about it. He was getting off on scaring a defenseless little boy, even had the nerve to smirk as he snickered, “I give up. Do you?”

  A single snap of his calloused fingers echoed through the room, and that’s where the vision ended…

  Because Jason was dead.

  Pulling her hand from her pocket, Pippa zipped her duffle bag, placed it in the foyer by the front door and returned to the table. Glancing at Shep, working hard to control her temper and her tears, she looked him right in the eye and in a matter-of-fact tone stated, “I’m going to Serenity, IL.”

  Grabbing her purse and small carryall, she marched to the door, calling over her shoulder, “Don’t call. I won’t answer.”

  Out of the house, straight to her Jeep Cherokee, Pippa threw her bags in the back, jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine, whispering, “It’s now or never, Pippa girl,” to herself. Rolling down the passenger’s side window, she looke
d out and added, “See ya’ when I see ya’, Shep,” before pulling away from the curb and heading out of town.

  Passing the ‘You Are Now Leaving Mule Pass. Come Back and See Us Sometime’ sign, Pippa let out the breath she hadn’t known she was holding, turned on the radio and as Danielle Peck belted out the words to ‘Finding a Good Man’, the private investigator chuckled, “How about any man?” Then laughing out loud, she added, “And a beer and a shot of Tequila, in no specific order.”

  Chapter Two

  The everyday sounds of life assaulted his finely tuned senses. Children playing a game of hide-and-seek. The tell-tale clink and clang of his brethren’s blades as they trained for battle. The sigh of two lovers, their lips touching for that all-important, life-affirming first kiss of the day. Everything mushed and mashed together in a cacophony of dissonance and chaos that fed every single one of his demons from the past.

  Sharp, stabbing pain, like red hot pokers, pierced the backs of his eyes. The muscles across his shoulders and down his back bunched tight, preparing for the unseen adversary he knew was lurking in the shadows, waiting for its chance to attack. Pounding, like the drums of an ancient civilization, images of everyone’s future beat a staccato rhythm against his consciousness, trying to gain entrance, attempting to drag him down the rabbit hole of insanity. His dragon roared, charging the confines of the Guardsman’s mind, seeking escape from the misery that compounded with each step.

  Sliding the black, mirrored glasses over his eyes, hiding from the blinding rays of the sun as it rose over the mountain pass, he sighed at the immediate relief and thanked the Celtic Goddess of the Moon, Cerridwen for her gift. Pulling from the magic of his still-growling dragon, Fury reinforced his mental blocks, steeling himself for the onslaught of inevitable agony as he approached the Lair of the Blue Dragons.