Fighting For Her Dragon Read online

  Two hours into her pursuit and still empty handed, Emma decided it was time to see if anyone else could help. She threw on some clothes, put her hair in a ponytail, and headed to the clinic. Since its construction it seemed to be the meeting place when anything of importance was happening, and since there was never a dull moment, the joint was always hopping.

  “Yeah, you might as well tell her,” Emma mocked.

  “All right, but I want it noted that I’m doing this against my better judgement. I think you should wait and speak to Mom. She’ll have a better explanation.” Devon’s tone was exasperated and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  “Duly noted.”

  Shaking his head, Devon let out a sigh before beginning. “There’s no easy way to say this except to just spit it out. Andrew’s body is still here.”

  “Okay,” she said, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “Like still here, still here.”

  “I figured it would be. I didn’t think y’all would’ve had a funeral without me.” She frowned.

  “No…you’re right. We wouldn’t have…OH SHIT!” He paused and gently grabbed her upper arms, bending to look directly into her eyes. “In all the years you’ve been with us, no Guardsmen have died, have they?”

  “No, but what does that have to do with this?” Her patience was growing thin and she knew her tone reflected that.

  Dropping his hands, Devon stood to his full height and motioned for her to follow. Turning, he strode down a long, winding hall. After three turns, Emma saw they were heading towards a set of huge, wooden, double doors she hadn’t known were at the back of the health center. The closer they got, the more she could see the intricate carvings across the middle of both doors, unlike anything she’d seen before. The dragons had welcomed her, made her their own, and because of that she knew their language and customs, had even studied some of the old texts with Siobhan, but she’d never seen anything like the symbols and glyphs on the doors.

  Pausing at the door, Devon bowed his head. Emma followed suit and listened as he said the Prayer of Remembrance. “To the Universe, to the Ancients, to the Fates, and to the Heavens, we give honor to those that have gone before us and thanks to You who protect their souls.”

  When he turned she saw the reverence in his eyes, which was only amplified by the respect in his tone. “The clinic was placed on this very spot for two reasons. One, the healing power we all feel here is nothing short of miraculous. And two, it backs up to the Cavern of Souls, the place where deceased Guardsmen are taken.”

  He stopped talking as he opened the door to the left and motioned for her to enter before him. Darkness surrounded them for a second as Devon let the door close before lighting the sconces hanging on either side of the hallway. His hand on her elbow startled her, and they both grinned before he began to speak. “The thing about Guardsmen that is so different from other types of shifters is that we truly are two souls inhabiting one body, while other shifters are what they call two-natured–one soul, two forms. I’m sure you’ve heard the story of how our race came to be.”

  She nodded her head for him to continue as they began to walk down the hall.

  “The original Dragon Kings were adamant that they still be ‘alive’ after joining with the knights. Not in the same way as they had been for thousands of years, but alive in the sense that their soul live on even after their human counterpart’s body had died and his soul gone on to the Heavens. What this meant was that the spirit of the dragon would leave the Guardsman’s body at the same time as the human’s soul. The dragon would then join with a newly born male child of the correct lineage, or wait for such a child to be conceived, and then join with him.

  “One of the happy accidents of using all this magic and creating a new race was that when both spirits had exited the body, the vessel simply returned to the Earth. When the Guardsmen questioned the mage, he simply stated, “Ashes to ashes and soul to soul. Magic to magic and all remains whole.” Apparently the old guy wasn’t much for explanations, but at least they understood that as long as the spirit of the dragons survived, there would always be Guardsmen to protect their kin. They would never again face extinction.

  “I just assumed you knew that, and understood why we have only memorial services and not funerals per se, after one of our own has passed. In the case of the Guardsman, there is no body, and our Ancients decided because of that, the same form of tribute would be paid to the women and children. Each family has a crypt where the members who are not Guardsmen are laid to rest in a private familial ceremony before the clan has the memorial service.

  “Okay, all of that was to tell you that in any other circumstance, five days after death, the body of a fallen Guardsman would be gone. But, true to form, Andrew is different. His body is still here and showing no signs deterioration, if you’ll please excuse the crude terminology.”

  They continued on in silence for a few seconds before he began again. “Carrick, Zachary, Malachi, and Mom came here together and prayed. After long hours, they all agree that the soul of the man and the dragon are still linked. However, their opinions as to why differ. Carrick believes it is because of Andrew’s dealings with black magic. Zachary believes it is because he is the Special One and has not served his purpose to dragon kin. Malachi believes that Andrew is holding on for you.”

  Devon stopped speaking just as they came to the mouth of a cave. “And we are here.”

  His hand at the small of her back guided Emma through dimly lit passageways until they came upon a small cavern that smelled of herbs and oils she recognized from her years spent with Siobhan. For the first time since she marched into the clinic less than an hour earlier, Emma was uneasy. It had been one thing to think there was a chance Andrew was still among them, but when faced with irrefutable facts her brain was having a hard time catching up.

  Turning the corner, she was unable to cross the threshold. Her feet simply would not move one step forward. Thankfully, Devon was perceptive enough to see she was having difficulty and considerate enough not to call it out, but stand patiently by her side.

  Laying not fifteen feet in front of her, on a stone table not unlike the ones she knew stood in many of the caverns of the caves of their lair, was a man she’d never really met but knew more intimately than any other. The man that almost everyone she loved was happy to see dead. The man that no matter how hard she tried, she’d never been able to despise like the others. The man that had used his dying breath to end her pain. The man that was to be her mate.

  Taking her third deep breath and deciding the only way to get to the truth was to move forward, she exhaled and took her first step towards Andrew’s body. Every subsequent step got easier until she was standing beside his shrouded body. Emma looked to Devon, unsure what her next move should be.

  Very carefully and with incredible reverence, Devon folded the top of the embroidered coverlet down over the top half of Andrew’s body, leaving him exposed from the waist up. Having never seen him up close, and having heard so many horror stories about him, she was surprised to see an attractive, well-muscled man, with a trimmed beard and strong jawline, lying before her. In his relaxed state, he looked nothing like the villain she’d heard about, but more like his brothers than she’d ever imagined possible. He did look much older, even though he was the younger brother.

  Before she realized what she was doing, her hand touched his. She was surprised at the warmth his body held after so many days, not to mention how soft his skin was. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought he was asleep. A tiny spark of electricity jumped between them, making her fingers tingle. Her hand traveled up his tattooed arm, across his collarbone, and touched the tip of the wing of the beautiful dragon resting on his chest. The image of the beast barely vibrated against her fingertips and made her wonder if she’d imagined it.

  Sometime later, Emma looked up to see that Devon had backed away and was leaning against the cave wall. She smiled and co
ntinued to look at the man the Universe deemed her mate. There was a pull between them even in his present state. It filled her with peace and contentment, which made no sense, considering she was standing next to her mate’s dead body.

  But is he really dead?

  Moving to the other side of the table, she let her hand sweep across his chest. It was as if now that she’d touched him, she was able to break the connection. She grinned at herself, thinking that once upon a time she’d pictured him as a smaller, scrawnier version of his brothers, which she now knew couldn’t be further from the truth.

  Her fingers began to trace the tattoos that covered almost every millimeter of his arm. They were unique and beautiful and appeared to have been burnt into his skin. Her head popped up as she looked at Devon’s arms and then asked, “None of you have tats or markings on your arms that are not part of your dragons, do you?”

  “No, we don’t.”

  Leaning forward, she closely examined an especially dark glyph that took up most of Andrew’s forearm. It looked like two infinite symbols perpendicularly intersecting one another to form a cross, with a band of interlocking Celtic knots forming a circle around the edge touching the four tips. In the center with the tip pointing north, was the symbol of the warrior arrow. There was power emanating from the marking that made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

  “Come, look at this.”

  She held up Andrew’s arm as Devon approached and waited while the Guardsman examined the marking. “I’m sure this symbol means the balance between two opposing forces, but we really should ask Mom to be sure.”

  “Ask me what?” Siobhan appeared in the room carrying several large tomes, which Devon rushed to take from her.

  “Can you look at this symbol, please?” Emma asked. “I would swear I can feel it.”

  As Siobhan made her way to Emma’s side, she slid her reading glasses from her head to the bridge of her nose, while calling over her shoulder, “Son, please put those books on the table at the back of the room.”

  Thoroughly hugging Emma and then holding her at arm’s length to look her over from head to toe, Siobhan smiled that motherly expression the younger woman had come to depend on after so many years in the lair. When she spoke, Emma could feel waves of love and comfort rolling over her. “How are you, my dear? Really?”

  “I’m good…really.”

  “Then I have to ask what are you doing here?” Siobhan asked with a suspicious tone.

  “Well, let’s see: he was my mate, I never met him in person, I shared the most intense pain of both our lives with him, I felt him die, and…Oh, yeah! Sydney says she can hear him talking and I feel like he’s just this far,” she held her thumb and forefinger about an inch from one another and put it right in front of the Elder Healer’s face to make sure she saw it before continuing, “from me every second of every day. I came here to see you and happened upon a conversation I was obviously not supposed to hear. After bullying Devon,” she winked over her shoulder, “he explained the whole ‘poof into oblivion thing’ that was supposed to happen with Andrew’s body but didn’t, and then brought me here to see for myself.”

  Emma took a breath and stood staring at Siobhan, daring her to say another word. She knew her actions were out of character, but her ‘family’ had been keeping things from her and were trying to baby her, and those were two things that she could not have if she was going to get the answers she wanted…needed…deserved.

  “I see,” was all Siobhan said before turning to examine the symbol.

  “Devon said he thought it meant the balance between two opposing forces. What do you think?”

  “Devon is correct,” she answered without looking up. “I can also feel power running through it. Just another anomaly of his death.” Straightening up, Siobhan looked down at Andrew and then reached forward and moved a wayward stand of hair from his forehead. Emma saw the same sadness she felt reflected in the Healer’s face, and felt bad for the way she’d spoken to her. But that quickly evaporated.

  The words, “It is too late to worry with a man that was just not good enough for you. He is gone now. Focus on yourself and getting better,” came to her mind. Emma’s spine stiffened; her resolve to make them listen to her renewed.

  “No more coddling, no more sending me away or telling me I’m better off without him, Siobhan. I know you can feel something more than just power in that symbol. Stop trying to protect me and help me find out what’s going on. One way or another, I will get my mate back or send him on to his final destination so that he can find some rest. I promise you I will…with or without your help.”

  Siobhan looked away, bit her bottom lip, and made a ‘tsk’ sound before answering. “Well, I suppose you will want to stay as close to him as possible, am I right?”

  “That you are.”

  “Okay, then we will work in here until the others come. Let me show you what Pearce and I have been able to find so far. And that symbol just may be the break we needed.”

  Not waiting for an answer, the Healer stepped around Emma and walked to the table that held all her books. Emma stood looking at Andrew, wondering what he’d been like before his capture and knowing he’d been a real pain in the ass, but someone she would’ve liked. Laying her hand over his still heart and her lips upon his cool forehead, she said the words in her mind she wasn’t ready to say out loud. “Come back to me. I know life was hard and you really screwed up, but I need you…at least for a little while. I’m pretty sure if I cannot see that you’re real and know that everything you’ve made me feel is not a figment of my imagination, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

  It was several more minutes before she could move away from her mate. Nothing that had happened since the man had set foot in the lair made sense, and this new development was no exception. Emma had tried to fight it, had stayed away from him and had ultimately hidden what was happening from all those she trusted, but now there was no way she could deny their connection or her need to have him in her life.

  Fate may not be denied, but it might just kill me too.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Nothing he’d ever endured at the hands of any of his captors had left him as gutted as listening to Emma fighting for him did. It wasn’t what she said, although her words were beautiful. It wasn’t the vehemence with which she said them, although that was humbling to say the least. It was her complete belief that bled from every word, persuading others to believe just as she did, that he was more than the sum of his deeds. She was the first person that accepted all of him–the good, the bad, and most definitely, the ugly.

  He wanted to get back to her and that shocked him more than anything. Andrew O’Brien did not want to be with anyone; he was a loner and capable of dealing with anything and everything on his own…but…he wasn’t. He not only wanted to be with Emma, to be a better person because of her, he needed to be with her. Needed to show her that her faith in him was not unfounded. He just knew if he could get back there, he could be the man and dragon she needed.

  Then came the part that didn’t surprise him, not even a little bit. The part, where even in his death, those fucking dragons dismissed him like yesterday’s garbage. It had been bad enough when they treated him like scum at the bottom of the pond when he was alive, but when they’d had the nerve to tell his mate…his mate… that he wasn’t worth her time. They’d gone too damn far.

  Well, from what I’ve seen of her, I’m really not. She is the best of the best and I’m…well…I’m me.

  They’d also told her to get over him, move on, and that she was better off without him. And maybe they were right on a certain level, but they had no idea how deeply he and Emma had bonded. Couldn’t know that she was the ultimate light. That she wiped away the deep, dark stains of all he’d done. She couldn’t offer him the forgiveness that he would have to earn from all that he had harmed, but she could cleanse his soul and accept him just as he was. He’d seen that for himself. Figured it was the only reason he was still float
ing around the Fades like a balloon in the Macy’s Day Parade instead of barbequing in Hell like a pig on a spit.

  He was glad to see Emma was no longer lying in bed wishing for death, and he had to admit she had a strength that surprised even him. He’d felt power within her but would never have guessed she could be tough and demanding. Emma was light and sunshine and goodness, which most people, even him, took for granted. Andrew could not have been prouder of her.

  Tired of waiting, he called out again. “Dad! Please! Tell me how to do this.”

  No answer again, and tired of being ignored by his father, Andrew asked his question to the emptiness, hoping that someone, something, anyone… would answer. “How the hell do I get back to my body, or at least communicate with my mate on the other side?”

  Long silent seconds ticked by. Andrew imagined himself pacing. It was a new activity he’d learned in those few hours after Michael had left him to stew in his own juices. All he had to do was picture his body as he’d been in life and then imagine himself pacing. Next step was to give himself over to the illusion. The first time he’d tried, the vertigo made him want to hurl, but the longer he worked at it the better he became, until it actually began to combat the fury inside him.

  On his fourth trip around his imaginary library, he heard a voice from his past. A voice he was sure had been lost to him forever. “Drew, love, what do you need?”

  “Mom? Is that you?”

  “Yes, my sweet boy. It is me.”

  “What are you doing here, Mom? Where is Dad?”