Dragon's Kiss (The DragonFate Novels Book 2)

by Deborah Cooke

  She stepped out into the night just in time to see the last of the blue shimmer that had heralded the prince’s shift. She clenched her fists as she watched him soar into the sky in his dragon form, all black anthracite and menace. He breathed a torrent of dragonfire that shone brilliantly against the night sky, then beat his wings hard as he flew away.

  East.

  Eithne stood, sickened by her fears, and watched until he was out of sight.

  She might as well have been beguiled. She certainly had been tricked. She’d initially thought that both dragon princes were innocent victims of their brother, the king, and his jealous wrath. Once here, she’d decided that Blazion was wicked and Embron was noble. But now, too late, she realized that they both carried the same taint.

  She’d protected Embron and helped him. Now he was armed and intent on loosing wickedness on a slumbering world again.

  There was nothing more that Eithne could do to stop him.

  She had a heartbeat to despair, and then a possibility occurred to her. Maybe she wasn’t so powerless, after all.

  Bree was used to being self-reliant and independent. She’d never been hurt before and she didn’t much like the new experience. It was strange to have to accept her own vulnerability after so many millennia. She didn’t like knowing that she could be injured much less killed.

  It made her feel weak.

  Feeble.

  Compromised.

  She already understood why people found it reassuring to have someone to rely upon. If not for Kris, she would have been left behind in Fae.

  If not for Kris, she might have died. It was a realization that challenged everything she knew to be true. She’d taken immortality for granted, because she hadn’t known anyone could injure her.

  Who would have thought Valkyries might attack each other?

  Bree certainly understood a bit better why mortals got so freaked out about death. It felt closer to her now, and knowing that oblivion was possible rattled her. Her back hurt more than she would have believed possible: there were two burning strips that felt like her flesh had been torn away. The searing pain made it hard to even think about anything else.

  Except dying.

  Would the injury follow her between all of her forms? Bree had to think that it would. She didn’t want to be in her Valkyrie form without her wings. The sense of weakness, of being incomplete and inferior, would be devastating. She wondered whether she’d be able to go back to her day job when this was over, if it ever was over.

  Bree shuddered.

  “Cold?” Kris asked.

  “No, just a little spooked.”

  He nodded once and didn’t say more. He did hold her a little closer to his chest, though, and Bree leaned her cheek against the warmth of his scales. She closed her eyes, glad again that he’d been with her. She didn’t have to admit it out loud, though he probably knew.

  He was perceptive.

  And kind. Noble and honorable. He just did the right thing, not expecting applause or even thanks. So much for all dragons being evil. That one must have been wicked because of his character, not the nature of his species.

  She watched Kris fly and admired the steadiness of his flight. She could have been floating along, each beat of his wings keeping him on course but not affecting their altitude. She knew that wasn’t easy to do. She was going to miss flying, but it wasn’t a bad compromise to fly with Kris.

  Flying didn’t consume all of his attention, which meant he’d done it a lot. She could almost hear him thinking, reviewing what he knew and what he’d seen, then seeking conclusions. She already had a healthy respect for his intellect and didn’t doubt that he’d figure out more than a few of her secrets.

  She liked Kris and she felt guilty that she’d had any part in putting him at risk.

  “Where are we?” she asked, trying to distract herself from both the pain and her guilt.

  “Ireland. Looks like the northwest to me.”

  “Knocknarea,” she murmured. “Of course.”

  He chuckled. “I guess so. Ireland does have the most stories about the Fae.” He looked down at her. “How are you feeling?”

  Bree saw no reason to gloss the truth. “Awful. Exponentially beyond all previous measures of awful, and then some.”

  He nodded, apparently unsurprised. “I’m thinking our Apothecary’s cures might help you, too. Want to find out?”

  Trust Kris to have a solution.

  “Yes, please.” Bree didn’t even care that she sounded desperate. She just wanted the pain to stop.

  Kris was flying over dark clouds that obscured the earth below them. If the moon had been full, the sight would have been spectacular. On this night, though, there were a few clouds in the sky even above them and a chilly wind blowing from the west. The moon was just past new and only the faintest sliver of it shone above. Bree was warm and safe, though, cupped against his golden chest in one protective claw.

  Gods, but the pain was excruciating. She hoped he was right about Pyr cures.

  He flew with purpose, as if he had a plan, and she wondered at their destination.

  Then she realized she didn’t much care. She was safe because she was with him, and that was a wonderful feeling.

  “Thank you, Kris,” she said then. “I would never have gotten out of there alone.”

  “I would never have gotten out of there at all, if you hadn’t become a bee. How did you do that?”

  “That’s a long story.”

  “I think we’ve got time,” he said with humor and she smiled despite herself.

  Telling him a story would be a good distraction. Even though she wasn’t used to confiding in others, this was a good time to start. She owed him truth for his decision to save her. “The tattoo was a charm, given to me by a sorcerer a long time ago.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “He was condemned to die. I wanted to gather his soul...”

  “Because you liked him?”

  Of course, Kris challenged her for even more honesty. The realization made Bree smile a bit. “Yes. I found him attractive. He had a rough man-of-the-woods thing going on, plus he was mysterious. I had a quota and thought he’d be ideal. I liked the idea of making him mine for all eternity, but he didn’t want to be claimed by me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he didn’t want to go to Valhalla.” Bree shook her head, remembering. “He didn’t want to fight anymore, or ever again. He wanted to die and stay dead.”

  “Is that common?”

  “He was the first who declined me, but my sisters said there were others. I guess Valhalla started to lose its allure for some.”

  “Why didn’t he want to go?” There was genuine curiosity in Kris’s tone.

  “He didn’t want to live without his powers. He used his last bit of power to give me a shifting charm.”

  “Why not heal himself?”

  “He didn’t have enough left. He wouldn’t have surrendered it otherwise. Sorcerers are like that.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “The charm meant I’d be able to use it three times to turn into a bee.”

  “A bumble bee?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why a bee?”

  “My sisters and I were associated with bees by many people.”

  “Because of the mead you served?”

  “That and a few old charms. There’s one that starts “sit, bees, sit”, for example, which is about soliciting the power of the Valkyries to keep your bees in their hives. The sorcerer chose the bee, not me, and maybe that was influenced by how much magick he had.”

  “You’re not sure?”

  “I deliberately haven’t learned much about magick. It’s too tricksy for me.”

  He nodded slowly at that.

  “Anyway, I tried the charm once, proved it worked, then didn’t use it again.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “About fifteen hundred years ago. I lose track.”
r />   “And in all that time, you had no desire to be a bee a second time?”

  “I never needed to. I just fought and flew like usual. And I was busy for a long time.”

  “Tutoring Siegfried.” Kris sounded indifferent, which was unexpected.

  Bree nodded agreement, even as she wondered what he was really thinking. “But then I heard Kara in distress, and I had to get through that wall at Bones.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “There was only one brick out of the wall, and it was a small one, so I used the charm.”

  “That was twice.” His voice dropped low. “And you used the third time to save me from Kara.”

  Bree felt herself flush. “I could argue that I used it to keep Kara from getting what she wanted again.”

  “You could.”

  “Or that I used it to defy Maeve.”

  “True.” He glanced down and she knew he’d guessed the truth. “Was that really the last of it?”

  “Yes. See? The sorcerer’s mark on the back of my hand, the one that looked like a tattoo, is gone. It faded a little each time, but now it’s gone completely.”

  “Thank you for using it to save me.” His voice was lower than usual and his appreciation was clear.

  Bree felt herself become warm. “There’s no point in casting me in a better light than I deserve,” she said, reminding him of the truth. “I’m no angel. I did save you, but I’d led you into the trap in the first place. I was wrong.”

  “But not about the firestorm,” he said softly.

  There was a note in his voice that Bree couldn’t immediately name. “Are you disappointed?”

  “Of course! I’ve been waiting hundreds of years for my destined mate.”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize how important it would be to you.” When he didn’t reply, she continued. “I was tricked, too, you know. We have that in common, as well. If you don’t trust me, then just drop me. We don’t have to stick together.”

  “We’re partners,” he reminded her with resolve. “We made a deal.”

  “And you kept your part of it more than I did.”

  He glanced down, his expression knowing, and Bree realized she didn’t want him to leave her behind somewhere. She wanted to keep up her end of the deal.

  “Okay, I’ve fallen short,” she said then tapped his chest. “I’ll make you a promise, Kris. From this point on, I’ll answer any question with complete honesty. I’ll be your partner in every way, until we save your friends and my sister.”

  “What changed your mind? Getting out of Fae?”

  “In a way, yes. You didn’t have to do that. You could have abandoned me.”

  He snorted. “That’s not how partnership works.”

  “You’re not the dragon I expected you to be. I like you.”

  “Knock you over with a feather?”

  “Something like that. She flushed again at his glittering downward glance and she forced herself to say it all. “I wouldn’t mind having a dragon as a friend, at least the kind of dragon you are.” Bree had never had any friends, and had never felt the lack.

  Until she’d met Kris.

  He snorted then, but she could tell he was pleased. “What other kind of dragon is there?”

  Bree shuddered. “I’ll tell you but not here and now, please.”

  He looked down, puzzled.

  “It’s dark and cold.” She shivered again. “It feels too close, like I could awaken that old monster, even though that’s impossible.”

  “Not so fearless anymore?”

  She’d promised the truth, no matter what. Bree spoke softly. “No. Losing my wings changed that. I’m feeling a lot more appreciative of what I have.”

  And that included Kris’s company.

  He flew in silence for a few minutes before he spoke. “You were going to tell me about magick.”

  Eight

  Bree was spooked. Kristofer heard it in her voice and he could understand. She’d lived for thousands of years, confident in the knowledge that she couldn’t be injured by anything—and Kara’s attack had undermined that conviction as well as leaving her without her wings. He could respect that she’d be shaken.

  But he couldn’t really regret the change, not when it prompted her commitment to be completely honest with him. Sharing their knowledge would make them better partners and give them a better chance of success against Maeve.

  In fact, this just added to his conviction that even a fake firestorm would bring the right mate into his life.

  Bree frowned and he guessed that she was choosing a place to begin. Kris was content to give her time. It felt good to fly through the night, and conditions were pretty favorable. The cloud cover sheltered them from the view of anyone on the ground, and there weren’t any commercial airliners in the vicinity.

  “How much do you know about magick?” she asked finally.

  “Just about nothing.”

  “But you gave me a great suggestion all the same,” she said, and he spared her a quizzical look. “When you said some things had to be older than Maeve’s magick. You were right.”

  “You said your charm wasn’t magick.”

  “It was closer to rune lore than Maeve’s magick.”

  “Are the distinctions that important?”

  “They must be.” Bree was silent for a moment. “I think of magick as being the willful manipulation of probabilities, usually for personal advantage.”

  “Should that make immediate sense?”

  “Not really. First, consider that everything is possible.”

  “Okay.”

  “No, I mean everything, even things that you don’t routinely think are possible. The moon might fall out of the sky right this minute, for example.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “But consider it to be. Accept that it could be.”

  “Everything is possible,” Kristofer agreed with some reluctance.

  “But some things are much more probable.”

  He nodded with satisfaction. “Ah! I’m with you there.”

  “And a skillful practitioner of magick can change the probabilities, thereby making something incredibly unlikely, not just probable...”

  “But compel it to happen,” he guessed.

  “Exactly. At the same time, magick is finite. A magician or sorcerer has a certain amount to use or save, and any magickal act consumes a measure of that magick.”

  “Dependent upon how much the probability of the desired outcome has to change?” Kristofer felt like he was getting it.

  “Yes. It would take a lot of magick to bring the moon crashing into earth right this minute, maybe all the magick that there is, because it’s an event that is very improbable.”

  “What’s the difference between rune lore and magick, then?”

  “Rune lore is more organic, for lack of a better word. It works with the possibilities that exist already, the really probable ones, and nudges one into a better position. It’s harder with rune lore to force something to happen or to act solely in your own interest. It’s more networked, more about the common outcome than the individual one.” She made a sound of frustration. “I’m not sure how to explain it better.”

  “Pyr vs. Slayer,” Kristofer said, seeing the parallels. “Pyr is our nature and our species. We’re born the way we are. We protect the treasures of the earth. But if a Pyr’s heart turns to selfishness, he can become Slayer. Slayers don’t care about the treasures of the earth or about defending them. They care about their own advantage to the exclusion of everything else. We say that Pyr are born and Slayers are made. And when a Pyr turns Slayer, his blood becomes black and he sacrifices the chance of having a firestorm.” He paused. “At least it used to work that way.”

  “What changed?”

  “The Dragon’s Tail Wars ended. It was the final battle between Pyr and Slayer, and we won. There aren’t any Slayers anymore.”

  “But there could be again, couldn’t there?”

>   “I’m not sure,” he admitted, wondering and not liking the prospect. “Is there only a certain amount of magick in the world?”

  “I’m not sure, but it stands to reason that there would be.”

  “Where do you get more magick? Where did it come from in the first place?”

  “I don’t know, but I remember a time when there was none. It must have arrived from somewhere or been created by someone.”

  “What happens when it’s gone?”

  “Maybe something a whole lot like what just happened to us.”

  Kristofer’s attention sharpened but he didn’t say anything.

  Bree ticked off the evidence on her fingers. “We were in Fae, captives of the Dark Queen herself. Those red strings were spells, bonds made much stronger because they were magick. That’s also why they burned.”

  “And they vanished,” Kristofer said. “Plus the music stopped and the hill fell in.”

  “The lights went out and the portal to Fae closed.”

  “And the firestorm was extinguished,” he said. “Proving it was a spell.”

  “Yes.” Bree sounded embarrassed. “I’m really sorry.”

  “You told me,” he acknowledged. “For what it’s worth, I still don’t believe you.”

  “You have to face facts, Kris. At best we can be friends.”

  “I don’t agree.”

  She made a little growl of frustration that made him smile. “Stubborn! Incurably romantic! And a dragon. What am I going to do with you?”

  “I’ve got a few ideas,” Kristofer murmured, then chuckled when she caught her breath. Her own reaction should have told her that this fake firestorm was right on the money. “So, Hadrian and Rhys are trapped in Fae and we’re outside it. Is there any way back?”

  “I don’t know. Kara’s there, too.”

  He declined to comment on that. “How long has it been since you went to Valhalla?” he asked instead. “It can’t have been since Siegfried died.”

  “Because then I’d know that Kara had claimed him? She might be lying, you know, because of the spell.”