Dragon Guardian (Drakins of Wyrmarach)

by Eden Glenn

  “He is unstable Wren, stay away from him. I’ve had something happen…”

  Only half listening, Wren looked up at the clock on the wall before cutting Izzy off. “I’m sorry. I’ve overslept, and you know how much I hate being late, so I’ve gotta run.”

  “Okay, well, call me.” Izzy let out an exasperated sigh.

  “We can meet for lunch or I’ll see you when you come in later this week for readings.” Izzy had table space at the shop once a week to read tarot cards for private customers.

  “Okay, Wren, just watch your back.” She disconnected the call.

  Wren looked around the room one last time before leaving. Why would Izzy say that? A moment of oddness tickled the back of her neck making her nerves jump with an undefined twinge. She shook it off. Now she was being paranoid.

  ≽∞≼

  Caleb struggled to feel the metaphysical fibers, hair fine and strung taught as a piano wire from the energy of their touch. If psi-talent was a Goddess gift, from the benevolent Gelfin, it seemed like it should be easier to use the damn ability. He knew the thread had to be right there, yet he couldn’t quite grasp the vibration. Power built around him, making his skin tingle with the exertion.

  Something was near, and whatever it was, tied to them in a very personal way. The vibes of the new age shop breezed through him, bringing with it the wispy vision of a woman. Her green eyes flashed with some unspoken message he couldn’t interpret.

  Ethan’s awareness intruded, diverting the foresight vision to explore her petite frame, which was voluptuous in all the places that mattered to cushion a man as he buried himself in her heat. Caleb pulled his thoughts back from where Ethan’s had dragged them both and snarled. “Pay attention. This is not the time to think of what we’d want to do with her… curves.”

  Ethan growled back. “Centuries of genetics are hard to fucking fight.”

  “Yea, keep your mind on fighting more than fucking.” Caleb reached out psychically again, grabbed back the precog vision.

  He could feel Ethan there with him as a crushing sensation of loss swamped him then slipped away. Another blaze of energy arced through him; the charge leapt across the distance to his brother, then grounded with a sizzle which made his head rock back with a snap.

  “I’m so tired of this fucking shit.” Ethan voiced Caleb’s thought as his twin smacked the door frame with his open hand.

  Ethan relieved strong emotions by peppering his speech with fuck in all forms. The word was his version of aloha-- the multipurpose noun, adjective and verb. One succinct word captured his diverse range of emotion.

  The f-word expression and pounding on things were Ethan’s way of trying to cope, when life went out of control. Caleb watched and waited knowing his volcanic brother would rumble to a volatile eruption. Once the emotional lava spilled over, Ethan would calm again. The role of Anchor, son of earth, matched Ethan, perfectly.

  “We both know the fucking thing is here.” Ethan scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “There isn’t any-fucking-thing to grab and anchor for you. We really don’t have time for this. This is a distraction from doing our job, hunting recessives and the rogue dragon shifter.”

  “We have no choice but to take the time.” It didn’t take a detective to tell the store belonged to a woman. “She might be an emerging offspring of recessives.” Caleb couldn’t help but state the obvious.

  Ethan didn’t have any love for their power hungry mother.

  “Yeah, too bad the Queen Bitch mother didn’t put more emphasis in science instead of status. We’d have learned sooner that two recessives can breed a dominant dragon shifter. Our people might have contained the recessives a bit more carefully and taken the time to track down those who’d escaped sooner.”

  “That’s where we come in bro, they can call us ‘Enforcers’ but we’re just the fuckin clean-up crew.”

  The conversation, with Ethan’s earthy crudity was a familiarity which gave them comfort in ways that defied explanation. He sunk back to be a placid calm anchor again, opening himself to the magic needed to solve the puzzle. He stood, with feet shoulder-width apart, hands on his hips, resuming his road-block impression.

  Caleb cupped his eyes and leaned against the glass window of the store to peer into the darkened interior. He scanned the books, crystals, herbs, candles and other miscellaneous stuff. A counter similar to an old fashioned grocery partitioned off the backside of the room.

  A fireplace and chimney flanked the opposite corner with a fancy sword replica resting in a rack over the mantle. The positive energy brushed at him. “The place has nice vibes. I mean, for a girly fru fru woo-woo shop.”

  He pulled back from the glass and closed his eyes for a moment, following the sheer hint of silken power from the store. He searched once more for threads of energy, like a blind man sifting through clutter, examining and discarding items.

  There, the metaphysical pull a tight, fine pluck. “Come to me baby, let me get a hold on you.” He grasped another one to wrap with the silken fiber and began weaving the threads as he found them.

  He reached with his gift, trying to bring his brother into the link without knocking him onto his ass from the force of the charge. “Ethan, I think I’ve got something.”

  Ethan’s awareness joined Caleb stretching out to anchor the fragile slip of energy. His relief was palpable. “We’ve got it.”

  Caleb exhaled. “Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. This way, I think. Hurry.” Now he’d caught onto the damn thread, anxiety bordering on sickness gripped him, twisting the uneasy churning in his belly with increasing urgency. He felt his brother’s presence but still confirmed they were in sync together. “Are you seeing this?”

  “Yeah, I’m with you.”

  With Ethan on his heels, he jogged around the side of the shop toward an outside staircase built against the wall. An illogical need to get beneath the stairs pushed at him.

  He wasn’t sure whether the psi-awareness was trying to tell him someone had fallen or was going to fall. Their precognition had led them on a good number of white-knight, ass-bustin’, dog-and-pony shows in the past.

  The crushing premonition of calamity increased to a pounding tempo. So, the occurrence hadn’t happened. He had a momentary glimpse of a woman falling through the air before the vision receded. The urgency slammed into him, move it, move it. They had to reach her in time.

  ≽∞≼

  Wren rushed through the kitchen, mentally organizing a list of things she needed to do for the day. Order more goats’ milk soap, place advertisement for the Samhain, ok Halloween for the kiddies, open house and make the bank deposit.

  The little dragon statue from the shelf over her kitchen sink had fallen onto the drain board and lay broken in half. Damn, maybe later she could glue the little guy back together. She slid her feet into sandals and left the dragon where he lay. No time.

  She grabbed her phone and keys off the kitchen counter, pausing to scoop up a box of glass ware she was going use to build a window display.

  Wren raced toward the back door that led down an external wooden staircase from her second floor apartment. Coffee could wait until she could get the shop open. Checking the clock over the door, --nine-freaking-hell-thirty-- she bolted.

  She stepped onto what should have been the first stair tread from the back door landing. A man’s shouted warning came too late. Her feet found only air. The steps were gone. A scream ripped from her throat echoing in the alley. She grabbed out with everything in her for something, anything that could break her fall.

  ≽∞≼

  The warning in Ethan mind reached a fevered pitch of discomfort, marking when what was going to happen collided in the cosmos with what was happening. Looking up to the top of the stairs, Ethan could see space where stair steps should be. Hearing the door open he shouted a warning for whoever exited the apartment above but it was too late. The quietness of the alley was broken by a bone chilling shriek.

  Ethan st
umbled, mired in the swirling eddies of the vision invading his consciousness. Relief swept through him as Caleb pushed to the lead and jumped forward ready to catch the swirling tangle of red-haired woman before she crashed into the ground.

  Bad thing about gravity, hard landings always sucked. Bile burned his throat at the image of her mangled broken body as he fought to reject the impending horrific conclusion of such a fall. His brother leapt from the ground, to grab the woman.

  Wait, that couldn’t work. The physics of the whole scenario was flawed. Caleb’s momentum drove their bodies forward toward collision with the pavement. His attempt to save her had turned into a flying tackle. Caleb fought to turn so that his body would take the impact of the landing.

  Seven Hells, either sustaining injuries from a two-story fall or crushed face first into concrete, tackled by a 230-pound wall of muscle. Bad just got worse.

  Ethan envisioned himself grabbing them with his kinetic energy and yanking the invisible power stream back wrestling to keep them on their feet. Every decision made the result worse.

  He had a split second to decide on the right course of action. Events continued to flash through his mind. His vision seemed to be reality as the consequences played out in his head. Their combined force came back at him.

  Okay, over compensation, not so much better.

  Caleb and the woman would hit him like a cosmic bowling ball and they’d all eat pavement just the same. Precog rolled like a movie, how the pavement would shred the skin off his back so much Swiss cheese through a grater, guaranteeing him a primo case of road rash. He could almost hear the ripe melon sound of his skull when it smacked the pavement.

  Craapp this was going to hurt big time.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Ethan froze, braced for the crash. His brother shouted.

  “Ethan!”

  Adrenaline surge on overdrive, the breath whooshed out of him and Ethan looked around, reflexively patting his body. As if doing so would ascertain the reality of his standing here undamaged. He wasn’t on the ground battered and bleeding. Caleb stood in front of him, not part of a human heap of disaster. The woman! There was no woman. He shook his head. The vision wasn’t real, yet. They still had time to intervene.

  “Caleb! We’ve got to…”

  His brother pointed up, directing Ethan’s attention to the stairs over their heads.

  “I could use a little help up here!” A woman hung from the gap between the stairs. Her arms clasped hugging the next tread like a life raft. Against all odds, the woman managed to circumvent the precognition he’d so clearly seen. She fought to hang onto the board. “I can’t hold on much longer.”

  ≽∞≼

  Wren struggled to maintain her grip on the stair while her body dangled in open space. Her chest burned and her chin throbbed, no doubt scraped from her impromptu exit through the stairs. She swung her legs trying to catch something with her feet to brace against and climb back through the gap-- nothing but empty space. The movement threatened her tenuous grip on the board.

  A deep male voice shouted up at her. “Let go, we’ll catch you.”

  Her arms ached, locked around the wood. She wanted to let go. Wren couldn’t convince her body to cooperate. “I can’t.”

  Her hold weakened, her arms shook and she slipped causing a shrill squeal. She clambered to grip the board tighter. Where were her shoes?

  “It’s okay, just drop. We’ll catch you.”

  She didn’t have much choice; her arms were giving out and shook in protest of her death grip on the plank. She peeked down over her shoulder and saw two hulking men staring up at her, smiling reassuringly.

  “I’m Ethan Monroe, this is my brother Caleb. You’re safe now.”

  She gripped the stair tighter in a valiant attempt to maintain her hold. She closed her eyes. What the hell do I do now?

  “Stretch down as far as you can, we’ll catch you.”

  His tone inspired trust. She glanced down again. His companion nodded, “We won’t let you fall, it’s okay.” She stared into faces too similar to be coincidence. Whoa, twins?

  Her best plan was to relax her hold and allow herself to dangle closer to their reach. Pull-ups were never her strong suit in P.E. Before she gained the extension of her stretch, her fingers slipped their hold and she yelped again as she dropped, sliding down a chute between the two hard male bodies below.

  They staggered, the force of gravity increasing her weight.

  ≽∞≼

  The woman’s shriek fizzled to a squeak and a gasp as Caleb looked into her too green eyes, losing himself in the depths of color, highlight and shadow.

  “The stairs… gone.” she rasped. Exhaling a shaky breath, she added. “You...caught me.” Her strained voice broke as she began trembling in his arms.

  Her long tapered fingers rested on his sternum. She fell back against Ethan, wilted, from feeling the dizzying effects of her rescue. Her soft hair brushed Ethan’s neck as her head leaned back on his shoulder.

  “You have me.” Her three words spoke straight inside Caleb causing a funny twist deep in his chest.

  “Yes, we have you.” Ethan murmured from behind her, bending his head toward the delicate shell of her ear, his eyes closing in concentration as he inhaled her musky jasmine scent. Caleb blinked, savoring the aroma along with Ethan.

  Even strained, the soft lyrical tones of her voice caressed Caleb.

  Wren coughed. She seemed to be coming out of the daze. “Very good. Thank you, for… catching me.” She stuttered. The adrenaline rush flushed causing her body to shudder with shaking spasms.

  She cleared her throat, unsuccessful at reducing the huskiness of her voice, “Where are my shoes?”

  Ethan nudged him. She’s bleeding. Red splattered from her chin dropping on Caleb’s shirt and arm, where the blood pooled and then seemed to be absorbed by his skin. His mind shouted, What the Fuck-- absorbed by my skin!

  He didn’t have a clue what that biological eccentricity meant. When he drew back, his twin’s eyes caught and held his, revealing a wildness that seemed barely controlled as he spoke in Caleb’s mind.

  Don’t let her notice. She’ll ask questions we aren’t prepared to tell a human. There’s probably a logical reason that has something to do with our heritage.

  Caleb did a quick survey of her visible injuries. Split chin, scraped from stomach to chest, light winked off the emerald stone of her navel piercing. Whoa, don’t go there. He looked up at the stairs. The gap where several steps were missing prevented them from getting her back to her apartment.

  Wren’s shifted her weight squirming in their hold. Her movement jerked him back from his thoughts.

  “Put me down.” Her strained voice broke on the last word with a squeak. “I want my shoes.”

  The sight of her blood gnawed at him. They released her and stepped back. She reached out to steady herself against them. “I’m fine.”

  He looked around trying to think. Garbage cans were tucked under the lower section of the steps. The broken stairs extending up over their heads would have to be fixed.

  She’s bleeding in this germ infested alley

  Caleb took a deep breath and exhaling a shaky what-the-hell, cleared his mind trying to think what to do next. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and shook his hair back over his shoulders with a shrug.

  Wren’s eyes widened and she blushed pink across her cheeks.

  Without speaking, Caleb pressed the soft cloth against her chin and pushed to stop the flow of blood, then directed her small hand to hold the wad of shirt in place. She held the makeshift bandage against her chin, muttering she marched over to one discarded shoe and slipped her foot into it. Then, did the one-bare-foot hobble in the opposite direction to slip on the second shoe.

  “Oh for-crying-out-loud.” She dropped the shirt and ran to a card board box with its contents dumped at the foot of the stairs, glass shards scattered over the ground. “Unbelievable.” She looked up at the stairs before she st
arted picking through the box in an attempt to salvage some of the objects inside.

  Ethan tried to prevent her from stepping in the glass with the flimsy shoes. “Stop, you’re going to cut yourself.”

  “Those were Gram’s crystal goblets. I wanted to use them in the front window display. Now they’re broken.”

  Ethan swung her up to catch her under her knees and carry her, ignoring her protests, and headed for the front door of her shop.

  “Put me down. I can walk.”

  “You’re in shock. We will come back and get your box of glasses.

  “No! I’m not leaving Gram’s glassware out here with the trash.” She wiggled out of his arms to stomp over and picked up the box hugging it to her chest in an act of defiance.

  Caleb bent down and picked up the discarded blood covered t-shirt. The little spit fire grabbed the shirt out of his hand and mashed it back against her chin while she strode toward the front door.

  Ethan stood at the door and jiggled the handle he should already know wouldn’t open. The shock of the morning’s events had taken their toll. “It’s locked.”

  Caleb’s mental tone didn’t communicate any of his outward calm. Genius, of course it’s still locked. The keys probably went flying when she fell.

  Ethan, you’ll have to break in.

  “Don’t you dare break my doors.” They both froze at her command. Caleb hadn’t a clue how she would know what they’d thought to each other. He turned to her. She was a puzzle.

  Then, he somehow knew the countless hours she’d spent searching for the double doors that would provide the entrance to her world, Salynne’s. Additional hours spent stripping and refinishing them to their former beauty.

  Her joy in the treasure was immeasurable. The psi-energy was being unusually fickle today with the random bits of information it gave him.

  “Men always break anything they can’t figure out.” She quirked her eyebrow “I have the key.” She opened her right hand, revealing the keys and various deep cuts they’d made across her palm from gripping them during the fall.

  Caleb narrowed his gaze staring at the places where the keys sliced into her skin gouging through the flesh of her hand.