Resurrecting Her Dragon (Dragon Guard Series Book 13) Read online

  “Well, ladies, as much as I’d love to have this family reunion right now, whatcha say we reconvene after we have Claire back?” Kayne asked, winking at Rory.

  Family reunion?

  The ladies all nodded in agreement. It was Ettie who spoke for the group. “Tell us what you need us to do.”

  “Give me a minute,” Rory answered. To Rian he said, “Guess you heard all of that? We’ve got reinforcements.”

  “You think they can handle it?”

  “They’re ancestors and they’re mothers have been the Elders of their clans for over five centuries. To say they’re up for the challenge is like asking if you have scales.” Thankfully, Kayne answered, because Rory was still freaked that he’d met Claire’s family before he’d met her.

  “If you say so,” was Rian’s only response before he spoke to all the dragons, “We’re a go. Count us down, Lenn.”

  Kayne quickly explained the plan to the ladies while Lennox began. “Brann, you good?”

  “Front gate ready,” Brannon’s clipped response immediately came.

  “Ready, Dec?”

  “Ready,” Declan answered.

  “We’re a go in five...four...three...two...one.”

  With Lennox’s last word still echoing in his ear, the pop of three small explosions sounded a split second before sparks from the three transformers around the griffin complex lit up the night sky. The entire fortress was instantly drenched in darkness as Rian called out, “Go! Go! Go!” mentally to the dragons and out loud through his high tech ear bud to Max.

  Rory was immediately up and running, with Kayne and the ladies close behind. Reaching Lenn at the back fence, the youngest O’Reilly brother pulled out large bolt cutters to cut through the thick wire fence. Coming up on his right side, Ettie grinned and whispered, “I got this.”

  Rory watched as long, fierce talons grew from her fingertips. In three swipes, Ettie cut a rectangle large enough for all of them to walk through.

  “Cool trick, thanks.” Rory chuckled as he pushed through the doorway she’d cut, walked over the wire on the ground, and signaled the rest to follow.

  Running across the backyard that was more like two football fields and a baseball diamond, they’d just reached the Olympic sized swimming pool when fire burst from the four windows at the corner of the fortress.

  “Claire’s awake and she’s pissed.” The women laughed in unison as Rory raced around the pool and headed for the French doors at the back of the house.

  Wood splintered and glass shattered as Rory burst into the house. Running in the direction of the room he’d seen on the floorplan he’d committed to memory, he’d just hit the first step of the spiral staircase when Claire’s voice screamed in his head.

  “You better get your asses up here before I barbeque the whole bunch...”

  Chapter Seven

  Claire woke to find herself alone in yet another gaudy bedroom with absolutely hideous wallpaper and lots of expensive but ugly antique furniture, just like the one before. The only marked difference, and it was a whopper, was that this one had bars on the windows. Which posed the question...Exactly how many people had they kidnapped and held against their will?

  I do not want to know...

  The thing that irritated her the most was that they’d moved her again. Being thrown over Hulk’s shoulder and carried around like a sack of potatoes while she was drugged wasn’t on her bucket list and would never be. Thankfully, she was still in the same blue striped men’s pajama top as before. She wasn’t thrilled that it belonged to Malick but really couldn’t stand the idea of one of those thugs, or worse yet, the dick himself, seeing her in her bra and panties for a second time.

  Her head was pounding from the herbs Sylvia had given her. Whatever the old bat had used was stronger than anything Claire had ever experienced and left a horrible aftertaste in her mouth. At first, the phoenix thought she and the griffin matriarch was going to be able to come to some sort of understanding. Sylvia had appeared reasonable, for a while. The phoenix had hoped they could have a heart to heart and work out their differences, but as Fate would have it, the old bitty was just as psychotic as her son.

  Oh, and let us not forget there are three other boys from the same gene pool wreaking havoc all over the countryside. Their mother is so proud. Ewwwwww....

  The room spun as she sat up and threw her feet over the side of the bed. It would’ve been a hell of a lot easier to just stay in bed and wait for the final effects of the herbs to wear off, but there was no way in all that was holy Claire was laying around like a winged pigeon while those filthy griffins planned to mate her off to their bastard of a leader. This was the twenty-first century. She was just slightly younger than dirt and had a mind of her own. Besides, she wanted her dragon...the man she’d chosen...not some second rate thug who only wanted her for her power. Just the thought of Rory’s flaming red curls and brown eyes made her all warm and tingly.

  Get a grip, girlie. Escape first. Kiss the guy after.

  Getting to her feet, Claire’s stomach did flip-flops. Taking deep breaths to keep from throwing up, she made it exactly two steps before falling into the wardrobe at the end of the bed. The garment bag from the other room that had apparently followed her to her new accommodations slid from the hook on the wall and tumbled to the ground.

  The silk champagne-colored gown Sylvia had planned to force Claire to wear to the farce of an ‘engagement’ party the griffins were throwing laid in a pile touching the tips of her toes. Stepping on the dress with both feet and grinding the fabric into the ceramic tile floor, an evil grin spread across her face as pearl buttons and iridescent sequins pinged off the furniture and the walls as they flew around the room. She would’ve rather burnt it but neither her fire nor her phoenix were responding. It had to be the herbs. The effects wouldn’t be permanent but they were damned inconvenient. Luckily, she had all her other enhanced senses. It was just irritating and one more thing that added to the hate for all things Slade building in the pit of her stomach.

  Regaining her balance, Claire used the furniture to make her way to the windows. Looking out at a backyard as big as the meadow between her mountain and Homer’s, she pulled on the iron bars until her shoulders ached and her fingers felt permanently crimped, but nothing moved. Irritated that her enhanced strength wasn’t at full power yet either, the phoenix cursed in every language she knew and a few more she made up. Standing at the window angry and frustrated, she stared at the darkness.

  Turning to check the door, Claire spun back toward the window and stuck her face between the bars when a flash of light caught her eye. Focusing on the exact spot where she’d seen the light, the phoenix held her breath. Seconds became minutes as she prayed to see it again. Her hopes soared as she prayed it was Rory coming to help her escape.

  Dammit! I know I’m not losing my mind...

  Slowly pulling back and turning, Claire looked over her shoulder one last time before giving up and heading toward the door. Wishful thinking had her grabbing the knob, then cold hard reality had her cursing once again when she found it locked. The thought of beating it down crossed her mind. She even had both fists in the air and had inhaled a huge breath to scream as loud as possible when she heard footsteps heading in her direction. Listening more closely, she could tell there were two people. One with a very heavy step, the other one lighter and maybe even wearing heels.

  Oh goody, a female griffin...

  Spinning on the balls of her feet, thankful her dizziness was wearing off, Claire ran across the room, hopped into bed, pulled up the covers, and pretended to still be unconscious. The louder the footsteps, the harder her heartbeat. Her breath caught in her throat as the key scraped the lock and the door swung open. Working hard to calm her nerves, Claire felt the first spark of her phoenix awakening.

  That’s it. Wake up, you gorgeous fire-breathing beauty...

  “She’s still sleeping.” Claire recognized Hulk’s voice while the scent of jasmine confirme
d that the person with him was indeed a woman.

  The female griffin’s voice was high and nasally so she squeaked when she said, “Madam Slade ordered that Malick’s mate be dressed when the hairdresser and makeup artist arrive. That gives us thirty minutes. You can tell the Madam that we’ve been delayed if you like, but I prefer to keep my wings intact.”

  “You’re right.” Hulk’s clipped answer spoke volumes to the fear Sylvia Slade, and most assuredly her sons, instilled in their underlings.

  Claire followed the movements of the griffins as they shuffled around the room presumably getting everything ready to dress her by force. Every second they fooled around was another second closer to being at full strength her phoenix became.

  “You’ll need to leave the room,” the woman said. “Mr. Slade will kill us both if you see any part of his mate naked and I don’t see a strapless bra so...”

  “I get the point. No need for details.” Hulk cut the woman off and the next thing Claire heard was the door opening, shutting, and locking.

  That’s even better. One on one, this little chickie doesn’t stand a chance.

  No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the woman pulled the covers down and leaned over, presumably to begin undressing and redressing Claire. In one fluid motion, the phoenix pulled her knees as close to her chest as she could get them, rolled over, and pushed the heels of her hands into the woman’s chest at the same time she kicked the griffin in the stomach with all her might.

  Claire heard the crack of the woman’s ribs as the griffin stumbled backward, her arms cartwheeling in an attempt to catch her balance before crashing into the dresser and crumbling into a heap on the floor. No sooner had the phoenix made it to her feet than three small explosions, one right after the other, shook the house, throwing her into total darkness. Thanking the Heavens for her ability to see in the dark, Claire jumped when the Hulk yelled through the door.

  “Everything okay in there, Lydia?”

  So that’s her name...

  “Sorry, Lydia. Nothing personal, but there’s no way in hell I’m mating Slade,” Claire whispered as she covered the fallen griffin with the quilt from the bed and took cover behind the thick oak footboard a split second before Hulk burst through the door with two other griffins on his heels.

  Squinting against the darkness, the Hulk roared when he spotted the blanket-covered Lydia. “Oh my God! What have you done? Lydia!”

  Guess they were close...

  Turning toward Claire with murder in his eyes, Hulk threw himself at her head while screaming like a banshee. The phoenix within took over. Fire flew from Claire’s fingertips. The behemoth of a griffin, who seconds before had been plotting her demise, howled as fire danced over his bald head and down his spine, setting his expensive black suit ablaze with him still in it.

  Flipping in midair to avoid Claire’s second burst of fire, Hulk collided with the dressing table. Wood splintered and glass shattered as the huge griffin rolled over and over, trying to extinguish the fire eating at his clothes and skin. Unfortunately for him, phoenix fire was magical. He could roll all he wanted but it wouldn’t go out until there was nothing left to burn or Claire commanded it to extinguish.

  The shock of seeing one of their own in flames caused the other two thugs to rethink their plan. Stopping dead in their tracks, the tall, bulky men looked at one another, then at Claire, then back at one another before turning tail and running out the door.

  Shouting voices and pounding footsteps headed in her direction as she tried to think of her next move. Standing in the middle of the room, an image of her cousins flashed through her mind at the same time she felt their presence. Close on the heels of that recognition came the knowledge that Rory, as well as his Force, was with them. Preparing to fight her way to her family and the man she knew the Universe had made for her, Claire ran to the door, leaned against the wall by the doorframe, and reached out with her enhanced senses to see if the coast was clear.

  She could tell there were four griffins coming up the front staircase from the second floor, with six more advancing from the ground floor. Malick’s bellowed instructions that she not be allowed to escape or they would all die for their incompetence came from somewhere in the middle of the house, and he was surrounded by more heartbeats than she could count.

  Figures the bastard would cover his own ass.

  Taking a deep breath, she braced her right hand on the doorframe, counted to three, and propelled herself into the hall. Running faster than she ever had, Claire made it to the back staircase a second before the first set of griffins stepped onto the third floor. They screamed in unison for her to stop. She could feel their fear and desperation to do as they were commanded simply to avoid punishment. They didn’t give a flip about her; it was their own hides they were worried about. It hurt her heart to think they would be punished but she was in the fight for her life and had no intentions of losing.

  Sorry guys...

  Flying down the steps, skipping over as many as she could without busting her ass, Claire kept watch for the griffins. The phoenix jumped over the landing between the third and second floors and grabbed the bannister to keep from tripping over the oriental runner covering the steps. Looking over her shoulder, biting her cheeks to keep from laughing and losing her balance, Claire couldn’t stop the little chuckle that escaped as she watched the griffin leading the pack fall ass over teakettle down the steps. He landed with a thud, his head on the landing and his butt in the air, unconscious with his mouth open and one of his shoes on his chest.

  Hitting the ground floor running, Claire turned to the left, the opposite direction from where she knew the remaining griffins were being dispatched. Taking another corner at top speed, she heard the crash of breaking glass and the cracking of wood two doors down the hall. Recognition of her mate filled her being. Her phoenix puffed and preened her feathers, shivering with excitement at the nearness of both man and dragon.

  Needing to see Rory more than she needed her next breath, Claire raced down the hall. Throwing open the large double doors that stood between her and her mate, the phoenix stopped dead in her tracks as her Guardsman drew a gleaming broadsword from the scabbard on his back in the nick of time to block the downward strike of Malick’s rapier. Rory looked like the highlanders of olde with his arms above his head, both hands on the grip of his blade and the fierce determination of a well-conditioned warrior painted on his rugged visage.

  Her phoenix screeched her outrage while pushing against the confines of Claire’s mind. Both woman and phoenix ached to fight by their mate’s side. Fire built within her as sparks from the clash of their blades lit up the darkness. Movement outside the collapsed French doors drew her attention. Throwing her hands in front of her to blast any and all griffins, she was forced to swing them above her head as Kayne—another of Lugh’s children—her cousins, and a dragon with short dark hair and mischief-filled green eyes burst into the room. The name Lennox floated through her mind. Even though embroiled in battle, her mate was introducing her to his brethren.

  “Thank you,” she quietly sent directly into his mind as not to disturb him.

  “Hold your fire there, Sparky,” Ettie snorted.

  Kayne nodded his hello while drawing his claymore and following Lennox, who was already brandishing a longsword of his own, toward the flood of griffins pouring through the door beside the fireplace across the room. Claire’s eyes went directly back to Rory. She watched as he blocked every swipe of Malick’s blade with finesse while forcing the griffin back with his own well-placed stabs. Their battle was like a well-choreographed dance, with her dragon keeping the upper hand at all times. He was poetry in motion. More graceful than she’d ever believed a man of his size and musculature could be.

  From the moment she knew of his existence, Claire had known this dragon was to be hers. The battle of light and dark was won not by her decision, but by the goodness of the man the Universe had created for her. There’d never been a doub
t and watching him in battle only reinforced what she already knew – Rory O’Reilly was the mate of her heart, her soul, and her forever. The one man in all of the world who was strong enough to deal with not only her, but her phoenix. He was perfect and he was hers.

  Forcing her attention to her cousins, Claire wasn’t surprised to see they had come prepared. Each woman had a blade in hand and was holding her own against the enemy. The battle was in full swing all over the compound. She felt the presence of more dragons than she could count, as well as werepanthers, fighting the multitude of griffins all in the name of saving her.

  It was a truly humbling experience. It had always been her responsibility to fight for others. Save those who couldn’t save themselves. Be the leader she was born to be. The phoenix would never admit it out loud but it felt good to be the one on the receiving end of the rescuing and she owed it all to her dragon.

  As if he’d heard her thoughts, Rory glanced in her direction and winked. The last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Their souls became one. She was whole. It was everything she’d imagined it would be and so much more. It didn’t matter that they were standing in the home of their enemy fighting for their lives. It was simply perfect. Claire started to smile but ended up screaming, “No! Rory! Duck!”

  Unfortunately, her warning was too late. During the split second it took Rory to look at her, Malick swept his hand into the ash bucket, grabbed a handful of soot, and when her dragon looked back, the bastard threw the ash into Rory’s face. Using her dragon’s momentary blindness to his advantage, Malick lunged forward, the deadly point of his blade sliding easily into Rory’s chest.

  Claire opened her mouth to scream again but this time nothing came out. There wasn’t enough air in the room. Her phoenix wailed in her head. She watched shock replace the look of determination on her mate’s handsome face. Stumbling to remain on his feet, Rory rocked forward and then back before his knees buckled. The force of the Guardsman falling to the floor pulled the blade from his chest. His blood flowed freely, immediately covering the front of his blue t-shirt and turning it a ghastly deep purple as Malick raised his sword for a killing blow.