Dragon's Gift - The Druid Complete series Box Set

by Linsey Hall

  The Cats of Catastrophe began to gnaw on the walls of the house, seeming to enjoy the gingerbread. Bojangles got all the way into the rafters and started chewing.

  “Careful, or you’ll bring the roof down,” I said.

  He just kept chomping away.

  I joined Lachlan in the kitchen and got to work tearing a piece of bread into smaller, bite-sized pieces. We sat down with our feast—including an old bottle of wine we found under the table—and stared at each other.

  “Well, this is weird,” I said.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the oven, which was still warm. “Easily the creepiest meal I’ve ever eaten.”

  We ate in silence for a short while, satisfying the worst of our hunger.

  “If those devil bunnies weren’t waiting for us, I’d be out of here so fast it’d be like I disappeared into thin air.” I took a bite of the bread and cheese, grateful that it tasted normal. “But since there are devil bunnies out there, I’m going to enjoy this stolen cheese and thank Hansel and Gretel for taking care of the witch. After today, I need a break.”

  “Aye.” He touched his head, wincing. “I agree.”

  “How are you?” Worry tugged at me.

  “Fine. Brain feels a bit rattled, but fine. I didn’t even see the sparrow coming.”

  “He was a quick one. Why don’t you take some healing potion? You brought some, right?”

  “Aye.” He nodded. “But we should save it. I’m not that bad off.”

  “If you’re sure.” I thought he was nuts, but he had a point. Who knew what was coming at us?

  Lachlan finished the bread and cheese on his plate and sat back with his glass of wine. I avoided looking at his lips as he drank. Well, at least I tried to.

  “Your magic,” he said. “Tell me about the problems you’re having.”

  I hesitated, wanting his help, but not really wanting to share the nitty-gritty of my issues. But how was he supposed to help me if I couldn’t tell him what was wrong with me?

  “I’ll keep your secrets.” Lachlan’s voice was serious.

  Trust. My instincts screamed it. I could trust him. He hadn’t sold me to the Cheshire cat, despite the strong pull of magic that had made me suggest he do it. Hell, I’d almost sold myself to the Cheshire cat.

  I chewed on my lip, debating. “Fine. I have new magic that is starting to appear, and I can’t control it. I can feel it inside, and it sometimes appears when I need it. But other times it lays dormant.”

  “New magic is appearing?” Interest flared in his gaze.

  “Yeah.” That was the unusual part—one of the parts I’d been afraid to tell him. That almost never happened to supernaturals.

  “And you’re only having trouble with the new magic?” he asked. “What about the gift you were born with?”

  “That has been acting up, too.”

  He leaned back in his chair and nodded. “All right. I think maybe I can help. I was born with different magic gifts, but not all developed at the same time. They lay dormant within me until I was older.”

  “How’d you get them to, uh…blossom?” The word sounded dumb, but it fit.

  “A lot of trial and error, but what I found worked the best was focusing on why I wanted to use that magic. Desire could often jump-start it.”

  I nodded, thinking back. “Oooh, I think I get it. Back when we were being tossed around by the flowers, my magic burst out of me when the sparrow went for Muffin. His mallet would have killed him.”

  “Desire equals action.”

  “You didn’t act on your desire and give me to the Cheshire cat.”

  “I’m not a monster.”

  “No, I don’t think you are. But I almost sold myself away. How did you resist?”

  “It wasn’t hard.”

  “But what did you want when the cat said he could give you anything?”

  Shutters closed over his eyes. “Another time, maybe.”

  I nodded, feeling my cheeks heat. That question had been the emotional equivalent of laying a kiss smack on his lips, and we’d already decided that was no-go territory.

  “But you can’t always rely on feeling a burst of strong desire to jump-start your magic,” Lachlan said.

  “No kidding. What do you do?”

  “Now, I don’t need any help. But when I was a child, my parents sent me to apprentice with a great wizard. He used his own magic to help me access mine. Like a battery that could jump-start my own ability. I can try to do that for you.”

  “What would it involve?”

  He stood and pushed his chair back under the table, then gestured me to follow him to the middle of the room.

  I did as he asked, standing in front of him. The Cats of Catastrophe were curled up in front of the still warm oven, basking in the warmth of baking witch. Princess had a smile on her face.

  I shuddered and turned to face Lachlan.

  He raised his hand. “I’m going to touch your shoulders. Then I’ll feed some magic into you. While I’m doing that, you choose a power to try to use. Really focus on it. How do you normally try to find it?”

  “Most times, it’s like a very faint light within me, but it feels miles away.”

  “All right. I’ll try to help it glow brighter.”

  “You can feel my magic?”

  “Some of it. One of my gifts is empathy. It’s not my strongest power, but I can sense emotion and other people’s magic. It’ll help.”

  I swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. “All right. Let’s do this thing.”

  I didn’t really have a choice, after all. My haywire magic was starting to cause some serious problems. I still hadn’t even faced the music for blowing Lavender off her feet and knocking her out.

  Lachlan laid his hands on my shoulders, gripping very gently. His touch was warm and strong. A shiver raced through me, but I tried to suppress it. I dragged my attention away from the heat of his palms and closed my eyes, unable to look up at him, standing so close. I didn’t trust myself not to lean up and kiss him. His scent twined around me, the smell of an evergreen forest combined with his skin making me sway slightly.

  I shook myself, trying to concentrate on the magic within me.

  “Which gift are you reaching for?” His voice was slightly rough, as if he, too, was affected by our closeness.

  “The weird light that repelled the sickness wraiths and stopped the flowers from attacking us. I have no idea what it’s called or what it really does, but it seems easier than the prophecy power.”

  “Sounds like it’s related to life,” he said. “If it drove back sickness and controlled plants.”

  “Maybe.” I drew in a steady breath and focused on the magic within me. It was like an amorphous cloud, filling me with a sense of completeness. A sense of power.

  But it was unformed. Unorganized.

  “Try to visualize,” Lachlan said. “That can help.”

  I nodded, imagining that a fog filled my body. Within it, the lights of my different powers glowed. They were faint, but I could see them.

  I zeroed in on the pale white light that I was trying to master. It sat low in my belly, waiting to be called to the surface.

  As if he’d sensed me focusing in on it, Lachlan fed his magic into me. His hands burned as it flowed through my shoulders and into my body.

  I gasped, stiffening.

  My head swam.

  We felt connected.

  His magic was strong and pure. I could feel the honor that flowed within him, the strength and conviction and goodness. And the heat.

  He wanted me.

  But he’d wrapped that desire up tight, getting a serious grip on it.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and tore myself away from the connection with him. I didn’t know if it was supposed to happen when he sent his power into me, but it was dangerous.

  Instead, I reached for my magic, for the light in the bottom of my belly. It glowed brighter. Like a firefly that was really trying. Lachlan’s magic was somehow gr
abbing onto my magic and feeding it.

  I reached for the light, trying to grasp it with my consciousness. It was a weird, ephemeral action, but I could feel the light beginning to fill me.

  I was doing it!

  The little light that had glowed within my belly became brighter, burning away the fog that filled me and replacing it with a powerful glow that gave me a massive burst of energy.

  It healed the aches and pains that rippled through my muscles, then filled me up with energy.

  Lachlan gasped, a low, ragged sound that made my heart race.

  My eyes popped open.

  His face glowed, bathed in a pale white light.

  It was coming from me.

  “I think you’ve got it.” His voice was husky.

  Suddenly, I remembered how close we were standing. How I felt the desire within him.

  I was barely a foot from him, so near that I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. Dark stubble coated his jaw, giving him a rakish look. The heat in his eyes completed the effect, and I swallowed hard.

  His scent twined around me, intoxicating.

  My heart thundered in my ears, and I swore I could feel every molecule of air in my lungs. I could feel every molecule of me.

  Particularly where his hands touched me.

  My gaze dropped to his lips. So tempting.

  No.

  I couldn’t.

  He was fighting this, too. I couldn’t be the one to break.

  I stepped back, severing contact. It was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

  “How did I do?” I asked.

  Lachlan dragged his gaze away from my lips, as if he, too, was just remembering the restrictions we’d placed on ourselves.

  “Well, I think.” He touched his head, a smile spreading across his face. “My head feels better. I think you have some kind of healing light.”

  “A healing light that I’ve somehow managed to weaponize.” I’d always been sick of having defensive magic in an offensive world, so this was actually pretty cool. “I understand how I used it to drive away the sickness wraiths. Healing is the opposite of what they are, so they couldn’t come near me. But the plants?”

  “In a sense, healing is life. So you somehow used it to freeze them. Controlling their life forms.”

  The hair on my arms stood on end. “That’s intense. If I could learn to do that with people…” I shuddered. “I really don’t want that level of power.”

  “Right now, it’s only manifesting as freezing plants and animals—and only those of your choice, because the Cats of Catastrophe weren’t affected, correct?”

  “True.” I stepped back, needing to get a bit of space. “Let me try again without the help.”

  He nodded. The glow of my light had faded from his face, so I assumed I was starting with a blank slate.

  I closed my eyes and focused inward, calling on the magic within me. There was still the dark fog filling my body, but the white light glowed a little brighter. As if I’d made a pathway toward it with Lachlan’s help, and now it was easier to find. I called upon it, reaching for it.

  Seconds passed, then a minute. But slowly, it began to glow brighter, filling me up.

  Euphoria seemed to fill me this time, as if the light weren’t busy healing my wounds so it was able to give me a shot of pure happiness.

  “Whoa.” I opened my eyes and stumbled backward.

  Lachlan grabbed my arms, keeping me from going down on my butt. The heat of his hands shot through me, and I glanced up at him.

  Light glowed on his face again, and even more heat filled his eyes.

  “Do you feel that?” I asked

  He nodded, his gaze tracing over my face. I couldn’t read what was in his eyes, but I could feel it.

  And it was hot.

  He shook his head as if coming out of a trance, and backed up. “You’ve done well.”

  I cleared my throat, dragging my thoughts away from kissing him. “Thanks. I still have a lot to work on, but I’m starting to feel a bit better about it.”

  “With practice, you’ll learn what your gifts are capable of.” His gaze sharpened on mine. “I think you’re going to be very powerful, Ana Blackwood.”

  I thought of Bree, and the insane power that she was now able to wield. “I think you might be right.”

  The next morning, I woke with a sore back and an aching neck. Rays of sunlight burned my eyes, and I groaned, sitting up off the hard floor. Why the hell was I sleeping on the floor?

  Blearily, I blinked, spotting the three cats napping near the old oven, which was cool now. The whole house was cool.

  The whole house was made of gingerbread.

  Right. That’s why I was sleeping on the floor. Because I had refused to sleep in the witch’s bed. Lachlan had also refused, and he’d bunked down on the other side of the room. It’d taken me a while to fall asleep last night, mostly because of the thoughts of him that raced through my head.

  But he was gone now.

  “Hey, Muffin!”

  The curled-up cat meowed loudly, a clear What the heck?!

  “Sorry, pal. Did you see where Lachlan went?”

  I was asleep.

  “I know your ears are good enough to hear him leave even if you’re asleep.”

  He inclined his head. True. He left about thirty minute ago.

  I stood, rubbing my aching neck, and went to the window. There were no devil bunnies out there, thank fates. And the sun had risen, though it was very low in the sky. We couldn’t be more than thirty minutes past sunrise.

  I opened the door, the scent of dew on the grass greeting me. The air was chilly, but fresh, and the rolling green field stretched toward the trees in the distance.

  “Hard to believe this place is full of devil rabbits and murderous pansies,” I muttered.

  Muffin meowed as he passed me, on his way to find a suitable bush, no doubt.

  I stepped off the stoop, but before I could go far, Lachlan appeared around the side of the house.

  He raised the basket in his hand. “I come bearing gifts.”

  “Food?”

  “Food that wasn’t in the witch’s house, which makes it even better.”

  My stomach growled. “Excellent. What did you find?”

  “Strawberries.”

  “Perfect.”

  As the cats chewed on the walls, devouring the gingerbread that was so oddly to their liking, Lachlan and I ate the strawberries and a bit of leftover bread and cheese.

  When we were done, we left the cottage. The cats had eaten so much of the gingerbread base that it leaned slightly to the left.

  “That won’t stand for long,” Lachlan said.

  Bojangles burped, and the frosting on his lips quivered.

  “Well done, cats,” I said. “Now another creepy witch can’t move in.”

  As if to punctuate my words, there was a great crash behind me. I turned. The cottage had collapsed in on itself.

  I dusted my hands off. “Good riddance to bad rubbish, right?”

  The cats meowed.

  We continued heading east, following the rising sun. The forest that we walked through was the most normal-looking one that we’d been in so far, with average height oak trees and a soft underbrush beneath our feet.

  “It’s too easy,” I muttered.

  Lachlan nodded, his wary gaze searching the forest around us. “Aye.”

  We kept walking, our footsteps silent and senses on high alert. Even Bojangles kept the racket down, though it was weird to see him walking like a normal cat rather than bouncing around like a ball.

  When the bushes ahead started rustling, I was almost relieved. Carefully, I drew my sword from the ether, keeping my gaze pinned on the foliage ahead. I poked around inside myself for my magic, making sure it was ready to use if I needed it.

  It was. Sort of.

  When the rabbit burst out of the bushes, I stopped.

  He was about as tall as my waist, with bright white
fur and a very fine brocade vest. The top hat on his head bore a decorative feather, and the monocle over his right eye was trained on us. A pocket watch was gripped in his little hand.

  The White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland.

  “Are you late?” I asked.

  “Not at the moment, no.” His whiskers twitched as he inspected us. “Who are you? You’re not from around here.”

  His question reminded me of the devil bunnies who devoured outsiders who dared trespass in their forest. I shook my head. “We’re not. But you’re not going to eat us, are you? We met some other rabbits who were obsessed with eating outsiders.”

  He blushed, his face turning pink all the way up to his ears.

  “Do you know the devil bunnies?” I asked.

  He blushed even brighter. Yep. The White Rabbit was embarrassed.

  “You do,” I said.

  He cleared his throat. “I might have had a relationship with a vampire bat at one time, yes. But those children would not listen to reason!”

  Holy fates, the White Rabbit was responsible for the devil bunnies because he’d hooked up with a vampire bat. I suppressed a laugh and shot a glance at Lachlan. His jaw was tight, as if he were about to burst out in a guffaw. Thank fates he held it in. It would definitely not go over well. The rabbit was far too uptight to appreciate us laughing at him.

  Then the Cats of Catastrophe blew it. They started to laugh, a strange purring-meowing noise I’d never heard before. Muffin was on his back, skinny legs in the air.

  The White Rabbit straightened, adjusting his monocle. “I hardly see what’s so funny!”

  Then he had no sense of humor. “I apologize for them. Terrible manners. Raised in a barn.”

  Princess Snowflake III hissed at me, and I was certain I’d pay for that remark later.

  The White Rabbit glared, then swung his pocket watch around. It twirled in the air, magic radiating from it in white arcs of light. Two doors appeared behind the rabbit, one red and one blue. Both were large enough for Lachlan and me.

  “You must select one to pass,” the rabbit said.

  “Where did this come from?” I asked.

  His gaze darted to the cats, who were now sitting upright and panting. “It’s the usual.”

  Somehow, I doubted that. The rabbit did not like being laughed at.