by Elle Thorne
His dragon took over, and, in this instance, Matteo was more than happy to yield to the being. Their shift into dragon form was swift, for he’d practiced this act often, and disuse had not had the opportunity to make him rusty in this area. No sooner had the thought occurred than had the act been completed, and Matteo’s dragon stood before the two bear shifters, resplendent in his glittering emerald-green hue, scales glistening in the dappled sunlight filtering through the tall trees.
The dragon shook his forearm mightily, flinging the biting bear loose and against a tree. The slashing bear that had clawed him raised his massive arm again to strike once more. The dragon threw back his head and roared, the sound shattering the forest’s innocence. He tried to spread his wings, in the ways of dragons, but found himself hindered by the trees. So many trees. So close together. None of the posturing would be possible in these close quarters created by maples, elms, evergreen, and brush.
Flipping a quarter turn, Matteo’s dragon swiped with his tail, knowing full well the consequences of such a hit. The dragonstrike, lethal to all except those whom sorcery could protect, was delivered by the spur on the dragon’s tail. The spur caught the slashing bear in the chest, planting deeply in the fleshy, muscular, fur-covered beast.
Matteo and his dragon had never used their weapon before. There had never been call to do so, but the reflex to defend with this deadly method was one that came so quickly and so instinctively, there was no time to consider action before taking it.
Seconds later, the bear collapsed.
Matteo turned his attention to the second bear, only to find it was gone. He could hear it tearing through the underbrush, but it was no longer visible. He’d have taken flight, but the tree branches proved a barrier against becoming airborne. He turned his attention back to the first bear, pawing it with his dragon’s claws. The bear was inert and most definitely dead. He could detect no pulse whatsoever.
Matteo took pause to assess the situation. He wasn’t sure if this was a Bear Canyon Valley citizen, but if he had to guess, he’d have said not. Time to shift to his human and run to the nearest clearing so he could once again shift and fly back.
Chapter Four
Dragons? How could that be? There were no dragons here. Were there? Tell that to her eyes. She saw a man—a stunningly handsome man—shift into a dragon. He’d killed Bram’s bear, and Edgar had taken off at a run. Unbeknownst to the dragon, he’d saved her life. How could she not do the same in return? She could not kill a man—or a shifter—yet, as she’d not gathered enough power to do so. Too much time under Orkney’s control. Having him stifle her mana, leaving her unable to practice the spells she needed to, saving what mana she had for the spells he mandated.
Yet, even without the mana to kill the fleeing Edgar, she knew one thing she could do. She chanted softly, praying his enhanced shifter hearing would not hear her voice. “Beinlausie. Förgöne, beinlausie, förgöne.” She stumbled over the ancient mutterings, these words which had been passed on, from consciousness to consciousness over the ages, only uttered when needed, without the chanter necessarily knowing the meaning of the generations-old spells.
Edgar’s bear dropped, his legs useless as decreed by the spell, his bones turned to mush.
Giving a self-satisfied smile, Jolie leaned against the tree then slid down its rough bark, spent, and in need of regeneration. She closed her eyes, thinking of a new problem that had arisen.
Dragons. There were dragons here. She had not known dragons existed in this country. She’d known a dragon, once. Just one solitary dragon. His mission was to protect her and the other sorceresses in at Dragespire, their castle. He’d guarded their kind for ages. Until he’d lost his bid to protect them that day, and Jolie’s life had changed completely.
That dragon, Oiddras his name had been, had warned her dragons were rare, and all descended from a pair of dragons in the land of fire and giants. The blood from a mighty battle between dark and light had flowed and flowed, mixing with the lava and ash, dripping into a chasm at the base of a volcano where two beings were born. Their flesh and blood and bone were crafted by the obsidian, the lava, and the blood that had flowed into the chasm.
Oiddras had smiled. “These were my ancestors, ages and ages ago.”
Jolie had listened, for Oiddras was wise and all-knowing. Oiddras was also immortal. Or so all of the sorceresses he was charged with guarding believed.
A young Jolie had been taken then, taken from her home and brought from one captivity to another, to finally be in the hemisphere once called the New World. In a country now called the United States of America.
Oiddras had warned her of dragons. Of other dragons.
Here, there were dragons.
And she would have to steer clear of them.
Chapter Five
Matteo, Griz, Salvatore, and Doc were at Cross’s—one of Griz’s nephews—cabins. Lance, another nephew, had joined them. From the outside, it seemed like any other cabin one might expect to find in the woods. From the inside, however, it was something completely different.
Matteo surveyed the room. It resembled a war room from NORAD or NASA. Bookshelves lined two walls, but instead of books, binders and manuals stuffed the shelves. Maps peppered the walls, where there were no corkboards or dry erase boards. Three desks were tucked in between the bookshelves. Monitors covered one wall, and a large executive type chair on an elevated platform set strategically to watch the screens.
Lights blinked on screens, computer fans whirred quietly, a radio on one of the desks made a low static sound. Cross turned it down as Matteo, Salvatore, Griz, and Lance entered. This was no ordinary man’s cabin at all. What kind of work did Griz’s nephew do that would require this kind of technology?
Ariadne, Cross’s woman, brought in bottled waters and a tray of cookies. Then with a kiss for Cross, and a smile for the others, she left the room quickly.
Cross pulled out folding chairs and set them up around the desk.
“Thank you all for joining us,” Griz began the meeting, pushing the chair away from the desk, he leaned against it and faced them. “Matteo fill us in, please.”
Matteo told them about the encounter, the dead bear, the one that ran off, and the anomaly of the area when compared to the map he’d used to navigate.
When asked to repeat for a second time, he’d withheld an exasperated sigh and done so.
“Describe them again, please,” Griz commanded once more, his countenance fierce. He turned to his nephews, Lance and Judge. “Find out if anyone from Bear Canyon Valley’s missing or unaccounted for.”
“What are you thinking?” Salvatore—Allegra’s father, and head of the dragon shifters—asked Griz.
Matteo retold the incident, for the third time, wondering if the third time was the charm and if it would shed light on the matter. Then it occurred to him. Something he’d completely forgotten about, what with flying wounded and his hurry to return to Bear Canyon Valley. “There’s one more thing. It isn’t far from the treehouse you built for Allegra.”
Griz snarled. Matteo could understand his anger. That his woman might have been in danger. If the two shifters were nefarious types. If. That was the question Matteo had. If.
The scarred shifter narrowed his eyes, glancing between Matteo, Salvatore, then finally settling his steely gaze on his nephews. “I wonder if this has anything to do with Crossroads. Bring the map up.” He turned the computer monitor toward Lance. “Show me where you guys have been eliminating possibilities for Crossroads.”
Crossroads. They’d explained to Matteo that one of the local shifters had been a prisoner at Crossroads, a facility which performed experimental operations and procedures on shifters—maybe even other types.
After listening to Lance explain what research he and the others had been working on in regard to reconciling the map and the lay of the land, Griz said, “We should check out the anomaly in the topography Matteo mentioned.” He turned to Matteo. “Can you lead us ther
e?”
“I can. When do you want to go?”
Griz grimaced. “I’d say right now, but I don’t want to rush to judgment. Let’s wait a day to find out if anyone from Bear Canyon is missing. I’d hate to think you killed one of ours, but I’m confident one of ours wouldn’t have attacked without provocation.”
“I’ll follow up with Grant,” Lance said.
“I’ll speak to Doc,” Judge added.
The notion he might have killed an innocent shifter didn’t set well with Matteo, so as they disbanded, he headed out of the cabin with one thing on his mind. He wanted peace with his actions. He had to see for himself what damage he might have wrought. For deep within, he doubted he’d hurt someone who was up to good. The other bear would have answers. He’d bring the other bear in to answer those questions held by him and by the community he’d now become a member of.
It didn’t take him long to get to the spot. It was comparatively quicker getting here now than it had been earlier, as he knew where he was going, rather than simply meandering about the treetops or wandering around on foot. He’d shifted to his dragon then walked about the area. Walked and walked. Stopping to inhale, examining every broken branch and indentation in the dirt. Looking for turned over leaves and pine needles. All to no avail. None whatsoever.
He found no sign of the shifter he’d killed. How could that be? Had someone collected him? Nor could he find scent of either of the shifters. It was as if they’d never been here at all.
Impossible.
He’d returned to the clearing on foot, for that was the place where he could shift and lift off, heading above treetops so he could reconnoiter the area by air, to search for answers from that vantage point.
Using lift on the windless ground, he was airborne within a few mighty flaps of his dragon wings. Midair, in his dragon form, catching thermals, columns of rising air, in tight circles, he boosted himself higher and higher, to find the winds, then he rode the air drifts of the active soaring airstreams, scanning the area for anything that might be amiss.
The mountainside was glorious, in its various shades of green, brown, red, orange, and yellow. The paths that crisscrossed the mountainside were more for wildlife than humans, at such a steep grade no man would wish to walk it for an extended time without proper outfitting.
Around and around, in ever growing circles, he scanned the area, starting from that one point of the clearing where he’d climbed into the sky. His flying pattern was much wider now, the circles larger than football fields as he searched for sign of the shifters—or any other human life for that matter.
In his peripheral vision, he noticed Allegra’s treehouse on his left, a few dozen yards away. On his next pass, in his ever-widening circle, he’d pass much closer to it. He contemplated the last time he’d stepped foot on the treetop’s porch, dropping Dunn and Meredith off for a final stay before Doc grounded her from flying with dragons. He recalled as he’d carried Dunn, next to them, Meredith had whooped and shouted, spinning and waving her hand with glee, as though a cowgirl wielding a lasso.
He’d always taken flying for granted, so seeing Meredith’s reaction brought home the glory of what he regarded as mundane. He took the loop around the circumference of the route he was on, coming around to the cabin again. This time even closer. He skimmed his gaze over the wooden structure then set his attention back to the ground because that was where the answers would be found. Turning his massive dragon head left and right, he examined the area, his senses on full alert.
Chapter Six
A sound drew Jolie’s attention from the can of mixed vegetables she’d found in the tiny home in the treetops. After silently begging for permission and forgiveness of the owners of the treehouse, she’d opened the can with the primitive opener and had nearly consumed most of it. Far from gourmet, the unheated can would at least provide sustenance.
But the sound—
She placed the spoon next to the can on the gingham tablecloth of the small, two-seater table and crept to the window.
That sound. It was the sound of a large bird flying. Or, if memory—though not so recent—served her well, an airborne dragon.
The window was shuttered but had a crack, and so she’d put her eye against the crack and peeked.
Nothing.
She moved to another window.
Dragon! The same one. At least, she thought it was, for it bore a scar on its chest that matched the one she’d seen fighting Bram and Edgar. She tried to look at the dragon’s front leg—arm, what would they call that?—to see if she could locate the bitemarks Edgar had given him. The angle was wrong, she couldn’t tell. Not to mention, she wasn’t sure she remembered which side he’d bitten him. The dragon continued, in a wide circle in front of her. Making deliberate rounds, as though searching for something. Was he hunting her? Surely, he couldn’t be. If he had been, he wouldn’t have killed the two bear shifters pursuing for her.
She scowled at him, drawing herself into a small ball, eyes on the slat in the shutter. “What do you want, green dragon?” she whispered under her breath.
He wasn’t a friend, though he’d saved her. She didn’t think he was aware of her, so how could he be protecting her? Until he was confirmed a friend, he’d be considered foe. And this could only mean one thing. She needed to stay away from him. To stay out of his sight.
As if the fates had determined to laugh at her, a flash of white caught her eye. She glanced in that direction, and instantly became fraught with worry and filled with anger at her carelessness. Her jacket! She’d placed it on the chair. She could have screamed in frustration. Did the dragon know about the treetop home? Of course, he had to. He could see it. Was it his? Would he know the jacket didn’t belong there? It was clear someone visited here but hadn’t lately from the days’ worth of dust. So, what should she do? Pray to the goddesses he did not notice?
Jolie was a woman of action more than one of prayer. She’d always been so, even as a little girl, learning her sorcery skills. She’d been one of action during her captivity. She had the broken bones to prove it. She was sure an x-ray would confirm this. All her attempts to escape had led to failure.
This one will not, she swore to herself. This one will not.
Back to the problem of her white jacket, balled up in one of the chairs on the porch.
She’d keep an eye on the dragon. The second he turned away, she’d open the door, grab it, and run back inside. Surely, the dragon wouldn’t notice.
Everything was hinging on this. The USB drive in her pocket. The safety of the other sorceresses, the safety of the other captives.
Everything.
Chapter Seven
Matteo’s last round had taken him just over the treehouse. This one would take him on the other side. He was almost to the other end when—
He did a doubletake. Something was off. He flew a tight circle around the treehouse. Trying to discern what had changed.
Finally, curiosity got the best of him. He touched down on the porch and shifted into his human form. Striding from one end of the porch to the other, he pondered what had drawn his attention but couldn’t put a bead on it. He wasn’t one to go into other people’s houses without permission. No, that wasn’t his way, but—he scowled—did he really have a choice? What if…?
No, how could a human have come up here? There was no accessing this treehouse without wings. Or someone dropping the rope and extra-large bucket that was on the porch. That would take two people, then. And one would have had to gotten up here by flying.
A thought occurred to him. Could it be a bird shifter? Did they have any in the area? Just because he hadn’t heard of one didn’t mean there were none. Or could it be…? No, there were no other dragons in the area.
Enough of the deliberations. It was time for action. He stepped toward the door he knew Allegra never locked and put his hand on the handle. Turning it slowly, he opened it a crack.
“Anyone here?”
No response.
He stepped inside and scanned the area. There was no one here and nowhere to hide. The bedframe was too low to the ground, and it consisted of drawers. This he knew, for he was there when Griz built it.
No one. But that chair on the porch, something had been different. He frowned, making a slow 360 as he scanned the area. There! On the floor by the door. That was what he’d seen on the chair. Now, how did it get inside a room with a closed door? In a room that had no one inside.
His frown turned into a scowl as he pulled on his dragon senses to find the answer to this mystery. His dragon was completely still and deathly silent. Matteo knew that was because he was concentrating, so he held his breath and lowered his pulse to allow the dragon a prescient silence.
His dragon’s mind-eye opened to him. An aura. There was something creating an aura. Something he could neither see, nor scent, hear, or feel. His hackles went up. Alarms filled his mind. His dragon pushed for a shift, but Matteo shoved the dragon aside. Not yet. Not yet at all.
A power was surging in the room. Building up, surrounding him. He couldn’t see it, neither could his dragon, but they could both feel it. He needed to get out of here. He wasn’t sure he could figure this out alone. He’d come back with some of the sorceresses and the dragons. He wasn’t equipped for whatever was here.
He lunged for the door and flung it open. He’d get Ilona, Honorine, and Bella for the sorceresses. As for the dragons, he was close to Nikola and Luca. They’d help him. They’d all return and—
A blast, like an invisible explosion, shoved him out of the door and javelined him into the air, somersaulting, end-over-end, until he was plummeting. His dragon took swift action, shifting into the beast mid-flip and beating his wings furiously to start an upward swing.
