Dragon: The Clan Legacy Series

by J. S. Striker

  “Want some?” she asked.

  His dragon head shook his head.

  “Too bad. I was about to offer you some pizza.”

  Charlie rumbled a chuckle. They arrived in the mountain area an hour before noon, where he deposited her under a tree and shifted to his human form in exhaustion. He would have continued the journey if not for Francesca putting her foot down and insisting firmly that he ate. He argued that they had better get things over with, but she insisted back that food was more important at the moment.

  “The vampires are gone, the sun is shining, and you're tired. I'm not going anywhere unless you stuff your face with food.”

  He raised a brow at her term, then caught the food she sent flying in his direction. Ah, apples. His stomach grumbled this time, so Charlie decided to heed her advice and ate.

  Happy, Francesca sat on the grass and unwrapped a candy bar in contentment. They might as well have been on a date, if not for their dirty clothes and the path ahead looming in front of them.

  For now, he ate. And he tried not to worry.

  *****

  They had a trek ahead of them after lunch, with Charlie leading the way and Francesca taking up the rear. It had to be a trek because the space was too small for a dragon to navigate, with trees and rocks packed too close together. He had fashioned a stick into a spear so she had a weapon in case something came up that they weren't prepared for, and she carried it with ease as her eyes took in the sight. The field they rested on led to a small mountain full of greenery, with dead plants here and there that indicated the use of magic. But it wasn't enough of a giveaway, and so they continued their trek up, on to rocks and flowers and dirt, until he heard Francesca's breathing growing rapid from exertion. She didn't complain, just kept pushing on with a single-minded determination that made him remember himself when he'd broken his bones after his first flight.

  He hadn't given up, either.

  They passed a pond, the water murky and full of algae and brown-colored water lilies. They passed a lake, bigger than the usual ones he'd swam in in Japan, but just as murky as the pond, with bubbles forming here and there. More trees, and he followed the dead path that led them deeper into them, higher up until he could see up to the mountain tip, where white snow capped it. The extremities of the weather was unusual, but he made no comment about it as the way got quieter. Soon, all chirping birds were gone, and the only sound left was that of the crunch of their footsteps on rocks and soil. They went up, up, and up until a small clearing opened up with the most spectacular view of more mountains and the clouds floating in the sky, now at level with them.

  Francesca sat down, staring at the view and trying to catch her breath. Charlie frowned down at her.

  “Five minutes,” he said mildly.

  “Fifteen,” she bargained. “Let me appreciate the view.”

  He nodded, then handed her the canteen of water he'd packed. She took it and gulped voraciously, wiping her mouth with her hand and handing him the rest. Charlie listened to his heartbeat regulating before taking a few sips, then stuffing the container back inside. Then he glanced around as he tried to recall the map details.

  There were some dead plants here, another sign of magic at work—or at least, that's what Mya noted down on her map. Apparently, the cave opening was facing north, visible when the sun shone the fullest and the wind rose high.

  Considering there was no wind and it was only a few minutes after noon, Charlie deduced they still had time to rest for a little bit. He removed the shirt he was wearing and sat down beside her, observing the view with a keen eye and confirming there was nothing amiss. Then he lay down and closed his eyes.

  “You can’t sleep,” Francesca reminded. “You only have five minutes left.”

  “I’m not sleeping.”

  “You’re closing your eyes.”

  “Hmm.”

  He left it at that, and she kept her silence after. He felt her lie down beside him, aware that she was just a few inches away. He didn’t say a word, merely kept his eyes closed as he heard her soft, even breathing.

  He’d been aware of her since last night, when they were in bed together—had been aware of her even before that moment. Even while lying down beside him, he could feel her body vibrating with a kept energy—a kind of tension that made him itch to unwind her inch by inch until she was loose and languid.

  Unbidden, the moan from her mouth last night sifted through his thoughts, and he quickly shoved it at the back and kept his expression blank, even while his body stirred at the remembrance. Charlie did a breathing exercise and calmed himself down, reminding himself that the mission was still the focus.

  A soft snore came from the side, inelegant and quick. He let her be, let the time pass as they waited.

  Exactly half an hour later, the wind picked up and blew in their direction. Charlie nudged Francesca, who woke up with a start and stood up straight off. He followed suit.

  “Sorry about that,” she said sheepishly.

  “No worries,” he murmured. He let his eyes wander all around, at the exact same places they wandered earlier, looking for something…there.

  The cave was visible, just a sliver of open hole behind a boulder. It was located on the mountain in front of them, separated from them by a river below.

  As if just realizing it, Francesca’s hand went to his arm. “Oh, my God. Do you see it?”

  He nodded his head.

  “That is so brilliant. I mean, I didn’t get the sun and wind reference at first, but now it all fits! It’s amazing.”

  It was, he had to agree. Finding the cave didn’t mean you could trek that easily there. One had to go back down this mountain, then climb the other side—which would be pretty pointless, as the sun would already be gone. He also couldn’t see any opening or path leading to the boulder, which meant one had to climb or rappel from below the river.

  Or fly.

  “Ready?”

  Francesca grinned excitedly at him before turning around to allow him to undress. “I was born ready.”

  Smirking at her back, Charlie prepared himself for the shift.

  *****

  The entrance to the cave was tiny enough to fit them individually, so Charlie went first and waited for Francesca to get in next.

  The moment she did, the cave entrance disappeared, leaving them in darkness. The wind must have stopped. Or the sun covered by clouds.

  Not to be deterred, Charlie made use of the emergency flashlight he packed, its bright light swallowed up by the cave’s darkness. From the position they were standing in, they could see the cave ceiling high above, filled with stalactites of varying colors. He could see Francesca’s gaze go dreamy and mesmerized at the sight, and couldn’t help being in awe as well.

  After a few seconds, he instructed in her ear that he was going ahead first, and she was to follow every step he took and not step anywhere else. She nodded, quietly following him as he entered deeper into the cave, careful not to step on anything too slippery. Francesca almost slipped one time, but not a squeak came out as she grabbed his shirt and held on. His own hand shot out and held her right away, a reassurance for her as much as himself.

  They continued on. It wasn’t until they were thirty minutes into the trek that he felt a certain sense in the air—a vibration, something that couldn’t be touched or seen. He deduced that this was some kind of ward at work, and he did his best to tread even more carefully after. She probably sensed it too, because even Francesca’s breathing had grown silent, almost as if afraid to disturb anything.

  They continued on. A step, another step, until they were so deep in the cave that nothing else existed. He turned a corner and made a step towards another long path—

  Coldness wrapped around him, sharp like ice. He gripped Francesca's arm and squeezed to signal her to stop, then tried to move back from the corner he'd turned into. But a strange pulling sensation sucked him in, and his body froze out of his own accord. He felt Francesca pulling him
back, but she too was sucked in, and he suddenly had a vision of her floating in suspension before a burst of colors exploded right before his eyes.

  The icy sensation stopped, and he abruptly fell on the ground with only his elbows stopping a complete face-fall. Francesca's body fell on top of him, an oof! sounding from her before she was scrambling up and trying to help him up.

  When Charlie looked again, he wasn't surrounded by a dark cave anymore. He was in a room, with snow on the ground and flowers all over it. There was a couch made of blue silk, some crystal lamps hanging with the stalactites. The effect was surreal. But that wasn't the topper.

  In the middle of the room was a shadowy spot, and a figure was standing in it. The power radiating from her was staggering, almost as if she were deliberately showing off. She probably was.

  “Step into the light,” Charlie said, keeping his voice stern.

  Francesca elbowed him lightly, glaring in warning. Then she pasted on a bright smile and made her posture appear unthreatening.

  “We're sorry for disturbing,” she started, her tone soft and slightly hesitant. “But we've been looking for you to ask for some healing help. I'm at my wit's end and...I need help. Badly.”

  The figure stayed silent for a few seconds, and Charlie's first thought was they had somehow offended it with their boldness. But suddenly, the figure spoke—its voice feminine, with a tone like lilting whiskey.

  “Have you come to harm me?” the voice asked.

  “No,” Francesca promised.

  Charlie shook his head.

  More silence, longer this time. Then the figure spoke again.

  “Very well.”

  The so-called powerful witch stepped into the light, her head covered by a cloak. Slowly, she slid the cloak down with a hand, staring at them with the blackest of eyes Charlie had ever seen.

  Familiar eyes.

  He almost dropped the flashlight on the floor at the sight of Red, healthy and alive. His ex-leader's mate.

  And part murderer.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Francesca couldn't stop staring.

  Perhaps that was a given when one was in the presence of a supposedly very powerful witch—at least, in Mya's standards, who always had a thing for powerful people and power in general. The powerful witch was a slight thing under the large cloak, really—all lean curves, if you could even call them curves. Her loose peasant blouse and skirt under the cloak hid any curve she may have had, so Francesca really couldn't deduce what was real.

  Said powerful witch was also staring, and perhaps that was the most notable of all—or rather, those big, black eyes that seemed to swallow her face whole. Too intense. And the witch wasn't even staring at her.

  She was staring at Charlie with a glint of recognition. And wariness.

  A glance at Charlie indicated he was also staring back in surprise. And wariness.

  “I should have known you'd come find me,” she said softly, her voice sexy and rough, as if it hadn't been used in a while.

  Charlie didn't move or tense beside her, though Francesca felt him going still at the witch's acknowledgment. Instinctively, she stood closer to him, an invisible support.

  Finally, he spoke.

  “I haven't,” he intoned formally—the same tone he'd used when he and Francesca had first met. “This is all a matter of...circumstance. I'm accompanying Miss Alison on her quest.”

  The witch tilted her head, intense eyes now focused on Francesca. Francesca did her best not to squirm at the sudden intensity directed her way.

  “Miss Alison,” the witch said softly. “It's nice to meet you. My name is Red.”

  The name punched shock in her system, and her eyes widened. Red. The name that was rampantly famous in the shifter community. The notorious criminal that was just as wanted as Mya for her deeds, though she was never privy as to why. Charlie’s reaction meant he knew, and she was so going to grill him later about it.

  But first, some diplomatic approach was needed.

  “Francesca,” she said, giving the witch named Red a small, hopeful smile. “You can call me Fran for short. Either way works.”

  Red nodded. “And how can I help you, Francesca?”

  “I have a question.”

  “Hmm.”

  “How come we were able to enter your ward unharmed?”

  Surprise filled Red’s eyes, quickly suppressed as she eyed Francesca perceptively. “My ward only keeps people who wish to harm me away. It knows your intentions.” Her eyes strayed towards Charlie for a moment before returning to Francesca. “Obviously, you have both passed the test. Do you have any other questions?”

  Francesca shook her head.

  Red indicated for her to sit down on the blue couch. Suddenly nervous, Francesca grabbed Charlie’s hand by instinct and pulled him down beside her. The couch was made of silk, and super soft. It was also very out of place.

  “What kind of help is it that you need?”

  Francesca took a deep breath, unable to speak. Then Charlie removed his hand from hers and placed his palm on her back, almost as if to steady her. It gave her the confidence she needed to continue speaking.

  She spoke slowly—detailing everything, from the attack that had changed her life to the symptoms that came after her survival. The scar, the pain, then the offer of a witch to work for her in exchange for a temporary, timely cure. Red frowned as Francesca described the potion she took every month, then pursed her lips disapprovingly.

  “What you’re taking is highly deadly if you keep on doing so,” Red murmured, walking to the opposite side of the room. There was a quiet stillness about her, almost as if she could stay in one place for hours without having the need to move. At the same time, an energy came off of her that spoke of a well of power that neither of them could fully comprehend. It made Francesca have trouble concentrating, though she did her best. “I have a solution for that.”

  Francesca hesitated again. “A permanent one?”

  Red smiled. It was an odd one, not matching her eyes’ hard glint. “A semi-permanent one.”

  The answer was confusing for Francesca. But before she could ask, Charlie was already leaning forward, his expression serious and somewhat demanding.

  “Kindly explain,” he said.

  “Well,” Red started, “Francesca’s wounds run deep. It’s not something that can be healed by magic in a snap. The witch who helped you out? Her potion was effective, but it’s a temporary one, with massive side effects. If you keep taking it, the pain will be more unbearable the next time you stop taking it. It’s cause and effect.”

  “But you’re more powerful,” Francesca pointed out. “Or at least, that’s what I was told.”

  “Hmm. Maybe.”

  “What would you do if you were to heal me?” Francesca boldly asked.

  Red tilted her head again, gaze considering. Then she nodded her head and turned around. “Wait here.” The witch was walking towards the wall, but at the last second, a door appeared to let her in. The door disappeared after her, leaving Francesca and Charlie alone in the room.

  “You want to stay?” Charlie asked the moment Red had gone.

  “Yes,” Francesca said firmly.

  “I don’t trust her,” he said under his breath.

  “She can probably hear you,” she said back, just as softly.

  Charlie stubbornly pressed his hand tighter against her back—not that it was needed, as she could feel him even with the lightest of touches. She tried not to squirm, instead leaned against him to whisper in his ear.

  “Trust me, this will work out,” she whispered.

  His head moved a flicker in her direction—then he stopped when he seemed to realize that would put his mouth on level with hers. Keeping her calm, Francesca held herself straighter, the action removing his hand from her back. The timing was perfect as Red seamlessly sauntered out, a tiny bottle in hand.

  Wordlessly, Red handed the potion to Francesca.

  Hopeful, Francesca st
ood up.

  “That’s…permanent?” she asked, mouth dry.

  Red nodded. “Permanent, in a way. No more pain, no more scars. But again, cause and effect.”

  She was almost afraid to ask, but she needed to plow on. “What’s the effect?”

  “You will lose any memory you have directly after the attack that caused this.”

  A charged silence filled the air at the statement. Francesca’s eyes widened as her mind supplied the implications. She would forget everything—the pain and the mess she’d put herself in to find the cure. Mya. This journey.

  Charlie.

  She glanced at him, found him staring at Red instead.

  “What do you want in exchange for the potion?” There was no tone in his voice, as if the idea of her forgetting didn’t bother him in the slightest.

  Red shrugged. “Nothing. I don’t do bargains if I don’t need it. I’m the most generous witch you will ever find.”

  There was a bitter note there, hidden deep. Francesca was having a hard time telling if Red was someone who could be trusted, or luring them into some kind of trap. She’d trusted Mya before, until the witch proved she wasn’t as harmless as she seemed.

  Red raised her hand higher, the potion on her palm. Francesca only hesitated for a few seconds before taking it, stuffing it quickly in her pocket.

  An awkward silence followed, broken only when Charlie stood up from the couch. Red’s gaze drifted to him again.

  “Are you going to capture me?”

  Charlie shook his head. “Not now.”

  Red gave a small smile. “You were always about honor, Charlie. Thank you.”

  Francesca’s mouth opened at the exchange, but Charlie easily closed it shut with a forefinger, even while his eyes weren’t on her. Then his hand slid down to her wrist and softly pulled her away.

  “We’d better leave. Thank you for your generosity,” Charlie said stiffly.

  It was perhaps the weirdest exchange they’d ever had, followed by an exit that included passing through the ward again, and experiencing a sensation like ice particles stabbing you multiple times. She gasped for breath and held on as it sucked her in. The sensation vanished a few seconds later, and they were back in the darkness of the cave.