Dragon Gate

by Gary Jonas

  “Kelly didn’t have a gun. Normally she wouldn’t need one.” I gave Mike a nod and pulled away from the curb.

  “If not for you, I’d be dead right now. I know it and you know it.”

  “I was hired to protect you.”

  “Yes, just doing your job. What if the destroyers weren’t bothered by bullets?”

  “Then we’d both be dead right now.”

  “How did you know that would work?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “But you shot them like you knew it was the thing to do.”

  I pulled into the parking lot and found a space. “It’s not like I had other options. Let’s go. I need to be with Kelly.”

  She didn’t move.

  “Are you all right?”

  She held her hands palms down in front of her. They were shaking. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, I know Kelly needs you. I’ll hold it together.”

  I turned in the seat to face her, and I took her hands in mine to steady them. My right hand was still stained with Kelly’s blood. As I gazed into her eyes, I said, “You’ve been through a traumatic experience, Rayna. I know you’re a bit freaked out. It’s all right. I’m here for you.”

  “You’re as calm as you ever were. How do you do it?”

  “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

  “How can you get used to something like this?”

  “You’d be amazed what you can get used to, but I hope you never learn that firsthand. Listen to me.”

  She kept staring out the window.

  “Look at me, Rayna.”

  She met my gaze but clearly didn’t want to hold it.

  “Listen and hear me. Are you listening?”

  She blinked a few times, and a tear rolled down her cheek. I kept hold of her hands in a firm but gentle grip. She sniffed and bit her lip then finally nodded.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “But now it’s just you. Brand is a normal person now. He won’t be able to help. Kelly might not recover. I know you have the ghost, but she can’t do anything. So it’s just you standing between me and the surviving Marshalls. And they have more destroyers. How can you protect me from all of that when you’re alone? What can we do? Where can we go?”

  I just held her hands and stared into her face. Every once in a while, she’d meet my eyes, but mostly she looked elsewhere. When she finally stopped to take a breath, I said, “You done?”

  She took a few deep breaths then gave me a nod. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re in shock. It’s all right. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, Rayna. I don’t care what they send at us, I will keep you safe.”

  “But who’s going to keep you safe?”

  I forced a smile for her. “That’s not going to be an issue.”

  The Marshall Clan didn’t know it yet, but they were all dead. I was going to kill every last one of them.

  oOo

  Rayna and I met Mike on the thirteenth floor. “Destroyers?” he asked. “Care to elaborate?”

  “In my world they’re called bolons,” Rayna said. “They’re raised to serve one master, and when they go after a target, they will kill anything and everything that gets in the way.”

  “Fortunately for us, a few bullets in the head puts them down,” I said.

  “I can’t wait to see what they look like. I’ll send a team to retrieve the bodies in the morning. Where is Graham? Is he dead?”

  “He’s at the hotel in Boulder. He decided to stay there and work since there’s nothing he can do to help here. Update on Kelly?”

  “No news. They’re doing the transfusion now. I had a healer take care of Brand’s injury. Speaking of which, you want to explain that to me?”

  “Short version? He’s no longer a Sekutar.”

  “They’re going to be a few hours doing the transfusion, so I’d love details. I understood Brand had ten years before the magic would fade. We created the second generation of Sekutar with a definite shelf life.”

  “He gave up those years to save Kelly. If you don’t mind, I want to check on her.”

  “Of course.” He led us to the room where the healers were working their magic. I’d been there before, so I knew the setup. Kelly was stretched out on a bed, and they had tubes hooked to her along with plasma and platelets. Energy lines hung from the ceiling, so the healers could recharge. They gave of themselves to heal, so they needed a way to regain their lost strength. Tapping into the energy lines took care of that issue. Ophelia held one of the lines and had her head tilted back as she filled herself to the brim. I knew that, even holding some of Brand’s energy for herself during the transfer, she was still exhausted.

  Kelly wasn’t moving at all. Two healers worked on her injuries. They’d cut her clothes off; they lay in bloody tatters on a counter off to the side. Now she wore an ugly green hospital gown, though it folded down at her waist.

  Ophelia looked over and saw me as I entered the room. Esther stood behind the bed, looking concerned.

  “They’re doing all they can for her,” Ophelia said without releasing the energy line. “The transfusion will take about ninety minutes. An hour for the actual transfusion plus another thirty minutes to make sure it’s all right. We could speed that along with magic, but as her injuries were so extensive, we felt it was best to do it slowly in order to avoid further shock to her system.”

  “What are they doing?” I asked.

  The healers were placing their hands on Kelly’s chest and stomach.

  “The beast that slashed her open had unbelievable claws that sliced right through her bones. Her ribs and breastbone were mangled. The healers are guiding the body to heal the breaks.”

  “Where’s Brand?” Rayna asked.

  Ophelia pointed to a door on the far side of the room. “He’s resting. We healed his wound and took the liberty of easing him into a deep sleep. He needs rest.”

  “Rayna,” I said, “you need rest too.”

  “Both of you could use some sleep,” Ophelia said. “There are beds in the next room. I promise to wake you if there are any changes in Kelly’s condition.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “No,” I said and placed a hand on her shoulder. I waited until she met my eyes. “Words can’t relate how much I appreciate what you’ve done.”

  “It’s too soon to know if this will work.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You came in at a moment’s notice, and you saved her. I know you paid a price for that too.”

  She nodded. “It’s what I do.”

  “And I doubt you get thanked enough.”

  “Having people survive and thrive is all the thanks I need, Mr. Shade. Kelly will survive but unless she thrives, I don’t deserve your thanks.”

  “She’ll be on her feet, kicking ass and taking names in no time.”

  “I hope you’re right, but you forget, I saw how far gone she was. I don’t want to extinguish your hope, but you need to have realistic expectations here. Even if she recovers enough to be able to walk, she may never be the person she was. There was damage to her spinal cord. She hasn’t moved since I first saw her. It’s possible she’ll be paralyzed. How will you feel then?”

  “If that’s the case, I’ll take care of her. She’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  Ophelia nodded. “Your loyalty is admirable. Now go get some rest.”

  “In a minute,” I said and walked over to Kelly’s bedside.

  Esther moved over to stand beside me. “I’ll stay with her, Jonathan.”

  I took Kelly’s hand in mine. “Thank you, Esther.”

  “I hate being so helpless.”

  “Me too.”

  “I wish I could hug you right now and just hold you. I wish someone could hug me back.”

  I didn’t know what to say to her.

  The healers stepped back to give me a moment. They were both middle-aged women. I thanked them th
en leaned over and kissed Kelly on the forehead. I whispered in her ear, “I’m here for you, Kelly. I will always be here for you.”

  There was no reaction, but I hadn’t expected one. I’d like to believe that she heard me, though.

  I looked at Esther again. “I wish I could hug you too.”

  I hadn’t felt much emotion in the past several years. I’d hardened myself to the point where feelings didn’t matter, but now seeing Kelly like this and seeing Esther hurting, I felt emotions well up in me, and I had to fight back tears. If Esther had been alive, I suspect I’d have clung to her and we’d have held each other until we cried out all our tears. But she was a ghost, and in a way, so was I.

  Rayna slowly approached me after a time. She took my hand, and we left the room.

  In the next room, a line of six beds stood along one wall. Brand slept in the one closest to the door to Kelly’s room. He wore different clothes and had taken the time to wash the blood from his hair and skin.

  Rayna nodded toward one of the beds and pulled back the covers. She turned back to me, hesitated, then embraced me.

  She didn’t say anything. She just held me.

  I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly. Again, I fought back tears. I knew she was scared both for herself and for me. She thought I was in danger and that the Marshall Clan had the upper hand.

  I released her and kissed her on the cheek. When she climbed into bed, I tucked her in. “Rest well,” I said.

  I started toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” Rayna asked.

  “I’m going to wash off some of this blood. I’ll be right back.”

  I found a restroom and stared at my haggard face in the mirror. After a minute, I turned on the water, let it run to get nice and hot, then scrubbed my hands. The water turned red as it dripped from my fingers, and Kelly’s blood went down the drain.

  When I returned to the room, I took the bed next to Rayna. As I lay there, waiting for sleep to take me away, I thought about the Marshall Clan. As far as I was concerned, they were living on borrowed time and I was going to show up to collect their lives like the Grim Reaper on a mission of vengeance. There wasn’t a goddamn thing any of them could do to stop me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  GRAHAM NOBLE

  With everyone gone, Graham expected to catch up on his sleep, but instead, the phone woke him up. His sister called to say she and the others were taking Kelly to DGI because she’d been seriously injured and the Marshalls had attacked them at the house with destroyers.

  He told her he wouldn’t be of any use at DGI, so he refused to go into Denver. He knew Rayna seemed disappointed, but he didn’t realize she wanted him to be there for her. Graham was more concerned about himself. He had to get things ready for the doctors to work on prepping Didracomine. This drug could be his legacy.

  Graham knew he wasn’t going to be able to get any more sleep, so he called Bitterman to come pick him up, dressed, and headed down to wait for his car.

  At one in the morning, the hotel was quiet. Outside, he could hear sirens in the distance. The air was a little chilly, but while he preferred warm weather, he and his family settled here because they hoped the Marshalls would search for them in the warmer climates.

  While he waited for the car to arrive, he considered his options. Had he been Americanized enough to stand up to Thomas should he come face-to-face with the man again? Or would he fall back on tradition, kneel down, and give up his life? Honor meant everything in his older life, but here it seemed to have little value. For years, he’d watched politicians caught in sex scandals, and they were always able to come back from them. Stories of redemption resonated in this culture. Where Graham came from, redemption was available only in death. Sex wasn’t much of a scandal, but abandoning your duties in life certainly was. And the Noble family had definitely done that and worse.

  So it seemed his choices were to allow himself to be killed and, thus, atone for his crimes, or to try to kill the Marshalls, which would compound them. Graham liked being alive, and he liked being rich in a world that worshipped money. Did honor really matter? Was it a core value, or could he discard it as he’d done with his responsibilities back home? Of course, he’d been a child then. Things were different now.

  In his mind, it all came back to the drug. If he could get it to work without Lucas or himself assisting the patients, he’d have his own redemption, and he’d earn the respect of the medical field. That mattered more to him than anything else because it would ensure a better legacy for the Noble family.

  While Jonathan had told him to remain here, he knew he wasn’t safe anywhere as long as the Marshall Clan had destroyers. Leaving the hotel against Jonathan’s orders did two things. First, it showed that he didn’t take orders from anyone, and second, if there were destroyers after him, it would protect the other guests in the hotel.

  Bitterman pulled up to the curb, exited the limo, and moved around to open Graham’s door for him. In his homeland, Graham would have been a servant. That station was decided by birth and could not change.

  “Thank you,” Graham said as he entered the car.

  Bitterman started. “Um, you’re welcome?”

  Graham realized it was the first time he had ever thanked Bitterman for his services. Payment was thanks enough, perhaps, but he wondered about that. How did he go from being destined to servitude to being one of the privileged few?

  “I know I woke you and took you away from your family,” Graham said.

  “I’m on call twenty-four/seven, sir. Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Bitterman nodded and closed Graham’s door. “Where to, sir?” Bitterman asked as he slid into the driver’s seat.

  “Home.”

  Bitterman glanced over the seat at him, eyes wide and concerned, but then he shrugged and put the car in gear. Bitterman must know his place, Graham thought. Do I?

  He didn’t speak on the ride home. Instead, he pondered his place in the world. He liked being on top. He liked being the boss. He liked the power and the respect. He didn’t want to lose those things. He focused his thoughts. His upbringing might dictate that he respect Thomas, but he refused to be limited by his past. Thomas was just a former employer who needed to let go of his vendetta. Graham had never personally done anything to Thomas or any of the Marshalls. And he refused to accept responsibility for the actions of his father for stealing Clara from the Marshalls then leaving the other realm, and his uncle for killing Vanessa.

  Bitterman pulled up and stopped before the open security gate. “Um, sir?” he said.

  Graham leaned forward and scanned the property through the windshield. The porch light was on. He didn’t see any movement. One of the front doors was closed, but the other wasn’t even on the hinges. He could see it lying on the floor, butted up against the staircase. To: The front doors weren’t even on the hinges. He could see them lying on the floor, butted up against the staircases. “It’s all right. Let’s go in.”

  “Are you sure, sir? Perhaps we should call the police.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  Bitterman shook his head and pulled forward.

  He parked next to the Lamborghini, stepped out of the limo, and opened Graham’s door. “Will you be needing my services again tonight?” he asked.

  Graham shook his head. “No thanks, Bitterman. Go on home to your wife.”

  “Sir, she left me last year.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  Bitterman nodded.

  Graham started toward the front door but stopped and turned back. “Bitterman?”

  The man stopped his slide into the seat and rose to look at Graham over the vehicle. “Yes, sir?”

  “Have you enjoyed working for me so far?”

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “Your position is secure, Bitterman, but I want an honest answer. Have we been good employers?”

  “You pay me
on time, and you pay me well. That, sir, is all I ask from an employer.”

  Graham considered that. “Very well. Thank you, Bitterman.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.”

  Graham looked at the doors lying by the staircase as he approached the house. He’d have to call someone to put them back in place. Could he do that now, or should he wait until the sun came up? He stepped through the entrance. He started to call to Jenkins but remembered Jenkins was dead. He realized that he took his servants for granted. He himself would have been taken for granted had he grown up in his homeland. It altered his perspective.

  The bloodstains on the floor where Chantelle and Tess died were still there, and Graham stared at them. Evidently Rayna had left the lights on when she, Shade, and Brand took Kelly out of the house. She was normally better about turning off the lights when she left. As if her nod toward energy conservation made a difference when they lived in a home such as this. Back home they’d have lived in a small cottage if they were lucky—a cottage that by American standards would have been little more than a shack.

  Graham started up the stairs when he saw movement above him. Kent, Mark, and Nathan Marshall blocked his path on the landing. He heard footsteps and turned to see Francis, Henry, and Robert take up positions at the foot of the stairs.

  Thomas left the drawing room with Peter by his side. They stopped and gazed up at Graham as Matthew entered the foyer from the kitchen.

  “The running is over,” Thomas said.

  Graham shrugged. “I haven’t been running.”

  “Your protectors aren’t here now.”

  “I never asked for them.”

  “Talented crew,” Thomas said. “In addition to four of my sons, they killed two destroyers.”

  “Just so you know, they’re going to kill all of you.”

  “I doubt that but it doesn’t matter. You won’t be around to see how the dust settles.”

  Honor dictated that he surrender, go down and kneel before Thomas. He should lower his head and allow them to decapitate him. Then his sins would be forgiven and he would bring honor to his family name. But he had so much to do. He fought against his ingrained need to follow the family way. They hadn’t followed that path when they came to Colorado. They certainly hadn’t lived as their birthright suggested. Most of his life, he’d lived in America. The other world seemed like a dream to him. He refused to give in to a hazy memory of times gone by.