Dragon in the Mist Page 7

  Unable to do anything but sniffle, Mara nodded, accepting the tissue Uther handed her. Wiping her eyes, she took several deep breaths, and when she finally thought she could speak without sobbing, repeated the words.

  As soon as she was finished, Calysta nodded and said, “Again.”

  And that was the way it went until Mara could say every statement without tears and with conviction. Smiling like a proud momma, Calysta got to her feet, and held out her arms. “Now, come here and let me hug you. I think it will do us both a lotta good.”

  Reluctantly letting go of Uther’s hand, Mara stood and walked right into Calysta’s arms, wrapping her arms around the Priestess, hugging her as tight as she could. Never in all her twenty-some years had any hug ever felt so good, so cathartic, so life-altering. It was the turning point Mara knew she needed to take the next step and talk to her mom.

  Pulling back and looking at her mentor, the young witch smiled, “Thank you, Calysta. Thank you so very much.”

  “Darlin’, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you and your sisters.” The Priestess took a step back but kept her hands on Mara’s shoulders. “I need you to know that this isn’t over. That you will have good days and bad days. The nightmares will come when you least expect them. You will be walking along, or making dinner, or folding the laundry and a flashback of the things you’ve suffered will come rushing back.”

  Calysta’s fingers closed a little tighter on Mara’s arms, and her tone became infinitely more serious. “And I want you to promise, not only me, but your mate and yourself, right here and right now, that you will not keep it to yourself, push it aside, or pretend it didn’t happen. That you will pick up the phone, call to Uther, call me, do whatever you have to do to find someone you can talk to about what you are feeling.”

  Her eyes got bigger and her tone stronger. “That is the only way to survive, the only way to remain sane, and the only way to move on. Trust me. I’ve lived it.” The Priestess smiled and winked. “Promise me, Mara Marie. Promise me now, because I refuse to let Cleland or Thanatos hurt you any more than they already have.”

  “I promise,” Mara nodded. “And I also promise to send that stupid son of a bitch back to Hell.”

  “That’s my girl,” Calysta cheered, as she dropped her hands, looked at Uther and raised a single eyebrow before teasing, “And you better make sure she does, or I’ll be kicking some scales off your hide.”

  “Aye, mum,” Uther’s accent was thick and so very sexy, as he snapped his heels together and saluted, that Mara wondered if talking to her mom could wait, as he grinned, “I see why you are the perfect match for Doxie. No other could stand up to the guff.”

  “Boy, have you got that right,” Calysta laughed aloud, clapping her hands and nodding. “Any other woman would’ve put that old grump out ages ago.” She took a deep breath. “But I love him more than Godiva’s White Chocolate Truffles.”

  “Now, that is saying something,” Mara quickly agreed then squealed as Uther picked her up, turned her in his arms and kissed the tip of her nose before warning with a grin, “Ye’ll be getting’ no ideas, Lassie. And I’ll be stockin’ up on whatever the devil truffles are.”

  Loving that her dragon had a sense of humor, Mara kissed him back as she whispered directly into his mind, “I don’t need truffles, my wonderful dragon. I only need you.”

  “Aye, mo chroí. It’s ye and me, forever and always.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Doxie, I hope ye know how lucky ye are, ya old, daft sod.”

  “Indeed, I do, and I see you’re just as lucky,”

  “Aye, I am, and couldn’t be happier,” Uther answered his old friend as he followed Calysta and Mara out of the Elder Witch’s office. “But I’m gonna be needin’ yer help.”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Maddox chuckled.

  “And I’m in, too,” Kayne chimed in, making Uther sigh, “Ye still haven’t taught him any manners, Doxie?”

  “Me?” Maddox scoffed. “As if he wasn’t already bad enough, the wanker spent a century in Hell, picking up every bad habit and learning tricks only the Underworld could teach him. He’s been damned near insufferable since we brought him topside.”

  “Saints preserve us,” Uther laughed aloud.

  “All right you two shut the hell up. If you don’t want my help, you can just say so.” The demi-god pretended to be upset, even adding a little sniffle at the end.

  “Of course, I want your help, ya daft doolally. Now, stop yer bellyachin’,” Uther teased, loving that his brethren were still the crazy, irreverent men he’d known for nearly three centuries.

  “Aww, now, I feel the love,” Kayne chuckled, but the rest of his words were cut off as Mara’s mother came running forward, wrapping her daughter up in a huge hug as she thanked Uther over and over.

  “It is me honor, Mrs. McKennon, but it was Mara who saved me.” Uther nodded as the matriarch took a step back, letting her hands slide down her daughter’s arms before holding Mara’s hands.

  “You saved him? But how?”

  Shaking her head, Mara stammered, “I really didn’t do anything…”

  “Aye, but ye did, macushla. It was yer voice, the light ye bring to me and Brennus that awakened us, made us fight, gave us a reason to live.”

  Turning slowly, letting go of her mother’s hands as she moved, Mara looked up at Uther through the veil of her thick, dark lashes and the Guardsman thought he’d died and gone to the Heavens. Unable to resist the temptation of his mate and not caring who saw or what they said, Uther closed the distance between them, whispering, “You are the very beat of my heart, mo ghrá. I…”

  The sound of an approaching motor along with the scent of petrol and rubber interrupted the couple’s tender moment right before Calysta turned and hurried towards the entrance as she swore under her breath, “Oh crap, I forgot to call the Council. I’m sure that will be them now.” Hurrying just a little more, she grumped through gritted teeth, “I can’t stand being around them the one time a year that I’m forced to, but I thought...”

  Watching Maddox follow his mate out the door, the hair on the back of Uther’s neck stood on end at the same exact moment Brennus grumbled, “Something wicked this way comes, mo chara.”

  “Aye, old man, I feel it, too. But what is it?”

  “I don’t know,” Mara commented, her tone wary as she joined their conversation and her grip on Uther’s hand tightened. “Something is definitely not right.”

  Calling to his brethren, Uther asked, “Kayne, Drago, Doxie, do ye feel that? That disturbance I can’t quite put my finger on and is that a car I hear?”

  “Yeah, I feel it, too, Obi Wan. There is a disturbance in the Force, for sure,” Kayne snickered, always the jokester even in the face of danger.”

  “The Force? And who is this Obi Wan you speak of? Is he kin or friend?”

  Laughter filled the mental connection Uther shared with his brethren as Maddox sighed, “Ignore Kayne, Uth, he still thinks he’s funny. The dumbass is quoting a line from a movie. When you get settled in, we’ll all help you get caught up on everything you’ve missed. And yes, that’s a car. Wait till you see what advances have been made into automobiles.”

  Once again Kayne was barking with laughter as he added, “Oh hell yeah, I can’t wait. I’ll never forget getting back to the Lair and watching Drago dive for cover every time a 747 flew over.”

  “That is not funny, Goldilocks,” Drago growled. “Not all of us were able to keep up on current events while we were away.”

  “True,” Kayne chuckled, “But then you didn’t have to run around on all fours with matted fur and fleas.”

  Smiling at his brethren’s banter, Uther looked at Mara and mouthed, “A 747?” With a shrug of his shoulders.

  Patting him on the arm, his beautiful mate whispered, “I’ll explain everything, promise.”

  Trusting Mara more than he’d ever trusted anyone, even those he called brother, Uther nodded as he c
ontinued to focus on the growing dissonance just outside the huge, glass double doors of the Clinic. Pushing his preternatural senses towards the disturbance, searching for its origin and its destination, the Guardsman let the soft seeking rays of his magic flow freely.

  Moving farther out into the Courtyard, Uther’s enchantment found a null in the atmosphere, a huge space of nothingness that neither he nor his dragon could sense. It was as if someone had cut a square from the fabric of time and space.

  On guard, not liking the strange occurrences that were stacking up, Uther kept his mind’s eye focused on Doxie who stood right beside Calysta as she waited alongside a very shiny, very black automobile. He heard the name, ‘Old Stink Face’ whisper through the Priestess’ mind, a mere second before a long, thin leg, covered in thick, black, woolen stockings appeared from the open car door.

  Unfolding herself like the ribs of a lady’s fan, the tall, emaciated witch looked down her nose at Calysta as if the Priestess smelled of rotten fish. The witch’s long, thin nose crinkled as tightly as her pale, age-spotted, leathery skin would allow. Her lips, painted a deep blood-red, were pursed so firmly Uther had to wonder that if the old bitty held a lump of coal between them, would she spit out a diamond. As if all of that wasn’t off-putting enough, when the old bitch raised her face and looked towards the Clinic, the Guardsman once again felt the icy fingers of death as he looked into her cold, dead, beady eyes.

  She must’ve known the power of her stare, because the wretched woman had chosen to compound their impact by slathering bright blue eyeshadow from her lashes to her eyebrows, then outlining her artwork with thick black lines and wings that nearly touched the ends of the ebony caterpillars she called eyebrows. Looking both surprised and full of condemnation at the same time, there was no way for Uther to read her true expression, and he had a sneaky suspicion that’s the way the witch liked it.

  Her magic was as ancient as the high-necked black-as-night gown that hung like curtains from her bony shoulders, and the huge ruby ring perched on the index finger of her left hand. Wielding her cane, a silver raven adorning the top, like a sword, the witch stood, tall and straight as if a board had been shoved straight up her ass as she rolled her eyes and followed Calysta up the steps.

  Visions of the old bitty turning naughty children into toads danced in his mind, as Uther quietly chuckled to Mara, “That woman had to be the inspiration for more than a few nightmares.”

  Realizing in that moment that his mate had begun to shake, her hand turned as cold as ice and her eyes were the size of saucers, Uther spun Mara towards him and knelt down until they were nose-to-nose, speaking directly into her mind, demanding, “What is wrong, mo chroí? What is it? Tell me, Mara. Tell me what has happened.”

  Shaking harder with every breath, Mara raised her free hand, pointed directly at the doors as they swung open and quavered, “He’s…here. Her…She knows…She…S-she…”

  “Take a breath, mo ghrá. Calm down. Tell me what is wrong.” Panic rising like the tides of an angry ocean, Uther searched Mara’s mind for the cause of her fear. Shuffling through memories, looking for clues, his blood ran cold, and his dragon roared as Agatha’s raspy, grating, hollow question assaulted every one of his enhanced senses.

  “Must we meet in the place where you treat the sick?”

  Bolting upright, recognition blowing through his body, Uther turned towards the nasty old witch as he shoved Mara behind him and bellowed, “You! It was you who threw me in a hole in the middle of the jungle and left me for dead!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “And you should’ve stayed where you were,” Agatha screeched, her voice an abhorrent combination of the witch’s shrieking, nasally tone and the demon’s hollow snarl.

  Throwing her cane at Calysta, the silver raven turning into a pointed spike as it flew through the air, Agatha bellowed, “Die, you rancid waste of skin and bones! May the worms feast on your entrails.”

  Jumping in front of his mate, Maddox pulled the cane from midair, flipped it around and threw it back, roaring with such vehemence that all the windows of the Clinic shattered. Ducking to the side, Agatha barely missed being stabbed in the heart before sliding back where she began and batting at Kayne’s sword with the long, thick talons growing from the ends of her fingers.

  Mara remembered those claws. Had experienced the pain of the bones of her fingers elongating, hardening, solidifying to nearly ten inches of deadly blades. And that was when it happened. When everything she’d learned while being trapped in the demon’s binding curse came rushing back like the waters of a dam that had just broken.

  She recognized Agatha from the few memories that Thanatos had let slip past his mental shields over the years. She saw their secret meetings. Heard their conspiracy to ambush the Enforcers decades before she’d even been born.

  Listening to Agatha weave the spell that would incapacitate the mighty warriors and give Thanatos the names of the wizards she’d recruited right under the noses of the other members of the Witch’s Council, bile rose in Mara’s throat. Had it not been so horrendous, it might have been funny the way the witch and the demon lamented the fact that they could only lock the Enforcers away because they weren’t strong enough to kill them.

  Mara saw the meetings with Cleland. The many, many times that Agatha took the power Thanatos had given her and fed it to Cleland so that he could grow his numbers. She even saw the day Agatha set the trap, called Calysta to a meeting, knocked her unconscious with that blasted cane of hers, leaving the Priestess for the Draoi’s men to collect.

  And for me to torture…

  Shoving the past to the side, the way the Priestess had instructed, Mara finally witnessed the entire meeting where the traitors planned the conspiracy to kidnap the Guardsman Garrett Acheson, hold him and torment him, and turn his mind, as well as his dragon, to the Dark so that Thanatos could inhabit him and gain entrance into the Lair of the Blue Thunder Dragons. Thank the Heavens that Thanatos’ plan hadn’t worked. That Garrett had been saved by his brother, Grey. It was scary to think how close they came to victory and even worse to consider that their schemes were actually ingenious, if they hadn’t been so dastardly.

  And let us not forget incredibly effing frightening…

  Grabbing at the back of Uther’s shirt, trying to get his attention, needing to tell him that Agatha and Thanatos were working together, and that the bastard was squatting in the nasty old bitch’s soul, Mara struggled to breathe. She’d been so wrapped up in finally meeting her mate and seeing her family again that she’d completely forgotten to warn her mate of the demon’s plans, and now it looked like she was too late.

  I’ve done it again. I’ve doomed everyone I love.

  “No time for that now,” Uther commanded. “Remember yer promise to Calysta… and to me.” The conviction of his words infused Mara with much-needed strength, assurance, and unconditional acceptance. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Take your sisters and go to an empty room. Stay safe. I will come get ye when the lads and I have taken care of the witch and the demon.”

  She would never know if it was his words or the conviction with which he spoke them, but in that very moment, Mara threw off the last vestiges of her guilt and self-doubt. Holding out her hand to Alicia, who’d already joined hands with Annalisa and the others, making an unbreakable line, the young witch announced, “To hell with hiding. We’re the McKennons, and we don’t run from a fight.”

  Keeping her eyes on Agatha, watching the old crone’s features twist and turn like taffy being pulled at the County Fair, Mara saw Agatha’s eyes widen, and her pupils elongate into blood-red, vertical slits. Thanatos was coming. The demon was pushing the Elder Witch’s consciousness aside, vying for a front row seat from which to destroy the dragons, and kill the McKennons.

  The ripping of fabric, the tearing of muscles and the pop and crack of reforming joints and bones drowned out the cacophony of sounds as the witches and dragons sought to destroy Agatha before Thanatos cou
ld completely emerge. Growing in height and girth right there in the center of the Clinic, horns erupted from the crown of the old witch’s head while her nose and mouth melted together to form a snout that protruded from what had just a few moments ago been the bitch’s face.

  Fangs, dripping with a sizzling venom, lengthened well past her chin as streams of fire burst from her huge, black nostrils. The sound of splintering wood accompanied the shredded beams of pine falling from the ceiling as Agatha’s, now Thanatos’, crooked horns broke through the ceiling.

  “He’s taking his original form,” Mara screamed. “Be careful of his fangs, talons, anything with a point, his venom is deadly and there is no antidote.”

  “Shut up, you worthless bitch!” The Demon roared, using the talons jutting from his fingers as swords to fend off the attacks of the Guardsmen, aiming for their hearts. “You are nothing more than a waste of skin and bones. Too weak, too sad, too pathetic to hold my magic, let alone carry on the majesty of my being.”

  Ignoring the demon’s taunts and keeping an eye on Uther as he and the other dragons pushed Thanatos back from the sick, the injured and the Healers in the Clinic, Mara telepathically called to her mate, “He wants to possess a Guardsman. He’s after Garrett.”

  “Who?” Uther asked at the same time that the Guardsman she recognized as Garrett’s brother, Grey, burst onto the scene, bellowing, “You couldn’t get him then, and you won’t get him now.”

  Watching the gray dragon jump into the fray, Mara spoke to her sisters through their familial mental link, “I have to do something. I have to take control. That bastard has to die. I won’t allow him to hurt anyone else.”