For the Love of Her Dragon Page 3

  Several hours later she had come up with a plan that would help her get her hands on the actual Prophecy and get the hell out of dodge. She knew that it would take a few days, but then she would be rid of all the bullshit that came with her mother, her aunts, and their full of shit coven. Her prayers for a less complicated life were going to be a reality, she would see to that.

  That had been twenty-five years ago. From the moment she had stowed away in the back of that eighteen-wheeler, after hiking almost fifteen miles to the nearest highway in the dead of night, she’d never looked back. There had been times she knew her mother and the coven were looking for her and had even talked to Calysta a few times over the years when she knew it was safe and absolutely necessary. Thankfully, she was truly gifted in the Cloaking Spell department thanks to her mother’s bloodline.

  Her magic had manifested at an early age, more powerful than anyone had imagined. It quickly became second nature to her. She had gotten good at hiding who and what she was or at least making it damn near impossible for anyone to find her from the moment she decided to disappear. The purity of the dragon magic of her newfound friends called to her white Earth magic, and it had been second nature to drop her guard and let them know exactly who she was. Had the scumbag, Andrew’s, dragon magic not been buried so far within him the first time she met him, she would have recognized him for what he was and things would have gone very differently; people she now cared about would not have been hurt. That was just one of the many reasons she wanted to kick his ass until he begged for mercy and then turn him into the snake he was.

  Somewhere along the way she had decided she should find out more about her father, but all she had was a faded Polaroid and a rusty old pocket knife. Her mother had claimed she’d lost touch with him after finding out she was pregnant and running back to her coven. Every time they had ‘the discussion’, the little hairs on the back of Kyra’s neck stood on end and she got a ringing in her ears telling her Calysta was lying. They always fought. Kyra always begged. Calysta always avoided until Kyra wore her down and then it ended the same way, with the same lie. She finally had given up ever getting the information she so desperately wanted from her mother. Eventually, she had figured since he was human, and she was over seventy-five, that he had passed away, just another thing in a long list of things that her mother had taken from her.

  “Shit!” She yelled as cold drops of water splashed her face and chest, ending her trip down memory lane.

  “Wake up, Witchy Poo,” Lance chuckled while Devon laughed and shook his head.

  “You had to throw water on the last dry shirt I have?”

  “Sure did. We’re ready to go. I called your name. You didn’t answer. So I threw water at you.” The biggest hundred-year old kid she had ever known shrugged. She saw the glint in his eye and knew the best was yet to come.

  “Besides, you said you wouldn’t melt,” he winked and she was once again reminded of a bad little boy just waiting to be scolded. Goddess bless Sam for signing up to deal with him for all time.

  “No, but I may call in the flying monkeys if you two don’t behave yourselves.”

  “Hey! I didn’t do anything,” Devon pretended to pout while Lance laughed so hard Kyra was almost afraid he might fall off the side of the mountain.

  “No worries, Dev. I’ll direct them to the pain in the ass over there…” No sooner were the words out of her mouth than a familiar pain hit her square in the chest. Devon’s eyes widened and Lance stopped laughing. ‘Pain in the ass’ was what Royce called Lance and everyone knew that. Everyone also knew that the six-foot ten-inch wall of muscle with red curly hair and deep brown eyes had snuck out before dawn the night after Jay MacLendon’s first birthday party and had basically been incommunicado ever since. That had been thirteen days ago.

  Thirteen long, miserable days and nights of her lamenting over the last time she’d seen Royce and the conversation between he and Devon that she’d overheard. Unintentional eavesdropping had been a part of her life from a very young age. She had always been short and then stopped growing at twelve. So at five foot two, she went unnoticed…A LOT…and that allowed her to hear things that she otherwise wouldn’t have. She had replayed the Guardsmen’s conversation over and over and always came to the same conclusion; Royce was surprised that he could intimidate her. It was almost as if he was scared of her and that shit just didn’t make sense. What the hell could she do to a hundred plus year old dragon shifter chock-full of his own special brand of magic, chivalry, and goodness, with the ability to change into a thousand pound beast of war and knock down skyscrapers like they were Legos, not to mention the whole fire breathing thing?

  At first she thought it was because he recognized her just as she had recognized him and just wasn’t ready for the whole ‘be together forever in this lifetime and the next’ gig that Destiny had decided for both of them. Then she thought it was the fact that she had unknowingly helped that little shithead, Andrew, hurt some of the sweetest people in the world that just happened to be part of Royce’s clan. But she knew he was there the day she had apologized and been forgiven by each and every person, even little Sydney. Hurting people was not something Kyra ever wanted to do in any way, shape, or form, and especially with her magic. Not only because she had taken the Pledge to ‘do no harm’, but also because she just wasn’t a villain, hell, she didn’t even have an evil laugh.

  At the age of thirty she had pledged her magic and her life to the Goddess of the Earth, assuring both her coven, the Universe, and the blessed Goddess that she would only ever use her gifts in a positive manner. It was kind of like the Hippocratic Oath that doctor’s took before they became licensed, but much more comprehensive and punitive. In its simplest form, the Pledge meant DO NO HARM, and since she was supernatural, if she did intentionally do harm to any living thing she would be low-jacked and the ‘powers-that-be’ could zap her ass. It was incredibly painful but with no long lasting effects. If, Goddess forbid, she got a couple of zaps, the Council showed up and that was something she never wanted to have happen.

  The Council was made of up of the oldest, most powerful witches in existence, who had absolutely no sense of humor or patience for rule breakers. She had only ever seen them once, and it had been another time where she was somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be but had gone undetected. A man she’d known her entire life had gone completely off the rails, killed people, irreparably damaged the Earth, and had completely turned to dark magic. It had taken ten of the most skilled from her mother’s coven to capture him and the Council’s punishment had been swift. One minute the accused was screaming and spitting venom and the next he was on fire. Poof! Gone! Pile of Ash on the ground! Definitely not something Kyra ever wanted to experience firsthand.

  She was shaken from her memories when Devon’s hand touched her shoulder. “Come on, let’s get this over with. I’m ready to go home and relax. Kyndel invited me to dinner and Jay and I have plans for a rousing game of roll-the-ball.” He winked and she knew he was trying to get her mind off the one track it had seemed to be stuck on ever since meeting the dragon they all called ‘the gentle giant’. Devon’s beautiful smile and twinkling grey eyes didn’t hurt anything either. He didn’t make her feel anything but friendship, but he was sweet and really nice to look at, as were all the Dragon Guardsmen.

  “Alright you two knuckleheads, lead the way.” Lance pointed towards the direction they had been heading before the downpour.

  Laughing, they began their trek, joking and teasing, but the fun was long forgotten after several hours of endless walking. Kyra was hot, tired, and seriously pissed, convinced they were just wasting time, aimlessly marching around the hillside. She was just about to suggest a break when a chill ran down her spine and her hands began to shake. Without saying a word, she dropped into the lotus position with her backpack on her lap and began pulling out her supplies, completely ignoring Lance’s bitching and Devon’s inquiries about her wellbeing. It took only a few seconds
and she had the silver-framed mirror that had been her great-great-grandmother’s, a vial of blessed water from the Black Lake, and her special herbs, and was working her Scrying Spell. She could hear the two Guardsmen discussing what she was doing but concentrated on the task at hand. They had been around her long enough to know she wasn't wasting time; any other explanations would have to wait.

  The spell took less than five minutes and had a side effect she had only experienced one other time in her life. Not only did she get a location on Andrew, but she also had a vision of what he was planning. The scene that played out in her mind was like watching a horror movie, only she could feel what each character felt. Her heart raced and a cold sweat broke out all over her body, but she was stuck watching the complete annihilation of a quaint little community tucked in a once beautifully lush valley. Everything she saw was from Andrew’s point of view so although she hadn’t seen him, she knew he was there, but that was the only thing that felt familiar.

  She searched the faces of the dead and injured for any indication of the target of the asshole’s destruction, but nothing looked familiar and there wasn’t any sound to help. All she knew was that he was somewhere off a rocky coast with turbulent waters and he was having a great time hurting anyone and everyone in his path. The silent movie of destruction went on and on. When she was sure she couldn’t take any more pain and suffering and had decided to see what the guys thought about what she had seen, her heart ceased to beat and her lungs refused to hold air. There, standing in the middle of the war zone, was Royce. His brow was furrowed, his brown eyes scanning the area for those that most needed his help. Her heart broke when she saw the cuts and bruises covering most of his beautiful face and his torn, bloody, and soot-covered clothes.

  The horror show unfolding in Andrew’s mind switched to slow motion as Royce moved from person to person, helping the living from the rubble and getting them to safety. He wasn’t the only one working rescue, but he was the only one that mattered to her. He shouted something and she cursed the lack of sound. In the next instant, a taller version of Royce (Was that even possible?) appeared to his right. The resemblance was uncanny. The new guy’s hair was short and curly, auburn instead of bright red, and he was not all muscular and hunky, more long and lean, which only added to how absolutely tall he was. The two worked furiously to clear away the debris, looking for someone or something specific. Even though only a vision, she could tell they were engaged in a constant stream of mind speak, another wonderful perk of being magical.

  An ominous sense of danger filled her and once again her breath stilled in her lungs. She watched as both men turned in unison and began running almost faster than her eyes could track. They were obviously screaming orders to anyone that could hear from the expressions they wore and the way their mouths moved. The feeling of impending doom engulfed every cell of Kyra’s body as she felt Andrew’s enjoyment grow. The sick son of a bitch was enjoying what he was seeing and delighted that more was coming.

  Horror movies had never been her thing and to have the man that was her mate in a starring role in one that would be a reality was seriously freaking her out. Sifting through everything she had ever learned that was stored in her goofy brain, she looked for a way to pull out of the vision. Finally, she found what she thought might work, but true to form, a bright light burst before her eyes, vibrations of an explosion she knew was taking place in her mind gave her the sensation of falling, right before her world went black.

  Two sets of very large hands shook her and babbled frantically. If she had been able to, she would have screamed out loud when Lance said he was going to throw her over his shoulder and run like hell, but it was Devon’s response that almost stopped her heart.

  “Dammit, Lance, settle the hell down. She’s magical…really magical and super powerful. Give her a minute to pull herself out of whatever happened before you go all caveman. We have no idea what she was doing besides scrying, and she told us that was just for location, so apparently her witchy senses found a lead and she took it. Besides, if anything happens to her, Royce will lose his shit. You and I both know it. She is his mate. He knows she’s his mate. He’s just being pigheaded. There is no way in hell he could handle her getting seriously hurt.”

  She could hear the rocks crunch under Lance’s worn-out cowboy boots and knew he was pacing, his second favorite pastime.

  “I know, dammit, but you know I suck at waiting. When she hit the ground, all I could think was snake bite, but there’s no way one would come anywhere near us. Then she started digging in her goodie bag and I thought it was no big thing, but now…what the hell? Her eyes were like…gone, rolled back in her head, and she was shaking so hard I thought she would fall to pieces.” He paced the whole time he spoke.

  When he stopped, she knew he had knelt down as the denim of his blue jeans brushed her arm. She imagined him staring at her face, not sure what to do and then he spoke. “Did you hear how fast her heart was beating? I wish Sam was here, she would know what to do.”

  “Dude, you gotta chill. I’ve seen stuff like this before with some of mom’s patients. Give her a little time and she’ll bring herself out of it. Kyra is a fighter. You just have to be patient.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah…patience. You’re all Zen and I’m about to lose my shit. I really hate you sometimes, Dev.”

  Devon’s chuckle relieved even more of the tension that had invaded her body during her vision. “I’m not Zen, I’m just not crazy like you. Now, sit down and wait for her to find her way back.”

  She heard the rustle of someone digging in her duffle bag. “You want a protein bar?” Devon asked.

  “Yeah, throw me a couple and a bottle of water, please,” Lance replied, and she could still hear the concern in his voice.

  She was once again amazed at how these people, these dragons, cared so much for one another and for her. They’d only known her a short time and had definitely met her under less than desirable circumstances, but nonetheless, they had accepted her as one of their own. It was an amazing feeling and one she would always cherish.

  She felt as if she was slowing floating upward despite the hard ground beneath her back. The feeling returned to her fingers and toes slowly, with pins and needles working their way up her arms and legs. As soon as her mouth worked again, she whispered, “That bottle of water better not be to throw in my face.”

  Though her vision was blurry, she could make out the smiles that spread across the men’s faces. Of course Lance was the first to speak, “What the hell, Witchy Poo? You decide you needed a nap?”

  “Yeah, that was it,” she chuckled, as Devon helped her sit up.

  As soon as the warmth of his hand hit her shoulder a flood of images from her vision came rushing back. The water she was drinking flew out of her mouth and she shouted details as fast as she could. “It was so pretty and calm, but I could feel the darkness coming. I could see and feel everything but couldn’t hear a damn thing. I know the little asshole was there. I could see everything through his eyes and he was so excited about the awfulness that was coming.”

  She used Devon’s knee to help her up while still shouting about all she had just seen. “Everything was fine one minute and then…BOOM…”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Little Bit?” Lance shouted and grabbed her by the shoulders, bending enough to look her right in the eyes.

  Kyra blinked a few times and took a deep breath, trying to get her bearing in order to make sense of what she’d seen.

  Lance spoke again, softer and more worried than she could have ever imagined, “Come on, Kyra, snap out of it. Tell us what you saw. What made you collapse?”

  “I…he…it was…” She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. When she opened them again, both Devon and Lance were staring at her, expectantly. She took two steps back and snapped, “Stop looking at me like I have two heads.”

  They both laughed, helping all the tension associated with the horrific vision she’d just
experienced drain out of body, finally getting her thoughts straight in her head. The ending of her vision flashed before her eyes and for the first time in her life she thought she might just faint. Without further thought, she screamed, “We have to find Royce! He’s in danger. There’s gonna be an explosion!” She reached out and grabbed a hand from both men and started to pull.

  “Come on! What the hell’s wrong with you?!” she shouted.

  Neither man moved, just stood and stared, looking at her like she had two heads. She pulled so hard she could feel sweat dotting her upper lip. Completely frustrated and more than a little pissed, she dropped both their hands and spun around, only to find herself lifted in midair by Lance and deposited on the same big rock she had been propped against just moments earlier.

  Just about to scream…again, she realized they were both using mind speak. Her heart raced as she felt the seconds tick by. She had no idea how long they had until whatever it was that Andrew was planning happened, she only prayed that they could get a warning to Royce in time.

  Lance and Devon were deep in conversation with the others of their Force, not paying any attention to her, when she decided that waiting sucked and she was going to do whatever it took to stop the devastation she had witnessed. Her escape plan would have worked if the damn dragons didn’t move so fast. Devon grabbed her by the arm before she could get both feet on the ground and held fast. When she turned to give him her best ‘Go To Hell’ look, he was giving her his, and since he was about twenty years older and a foot taller, his was better. She started to hunch her shoulders and then realized she had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. The man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with was in serious danger. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t stand the sight of her, or that she already had feelings for him, she had to save him along with the others she’d seen lying dead or broken around him.