Dragon Guardian (Drakins of Wyrmarach)

by Eden Glenn

  She’d no idea how far it would go. She’d had no idea the devastation that one action would wreck in Kiernan’s life. He’d been declared Rogue, stripped of his title and hunted. Somehow he’d just disappeared off the face of the planet. She couldn’t help but worry where he really was.

  Isobeau had only wanted to separate him from Wren, to buy her more time to figure out how the woman fit into the pattern of events unfolding. All the signs in the runes and tarot cards pointed to something huge. No not just huge, bigger, monumentally huge, colossal, world changing. The cards never lied.

  A gleam in Rhys eyes met her for the first time in the many months she’d been asking the question.

  “A rumor. I’ve a contact on the fringe of the Society.” The Knights of Druiere, a society of dragon slayers, their cause so much like the watchers but twisted by their mission of Death to all dragons. In a different world they might have worked together.

  “Tell me.”

  “I think there is a reason the venerable Enforcers haven’t found a trace of him to date. I now believe he is in the hands of one of the servants of the Society. There are whisperings about a dragon that is being kept. I can only assume it might be him.”

  “Kept? How on earth could they have captured Kiernan? Or is he with them willingly.” That could potentially change the entire scenario if Kiernan had thrown in with the enemy.

  “I don’t know mistress. My contact is going to try to discover more, if at all possible.”

  “Very well, keep me posted.” Her guilt weighed heavy on her conscious against the possibility that he was indeed a rogue and a betrayer.

  “We can’t discount Ron Packard’s involvement. I haven’t told Wren yet but I believe he was the one who abducted Maura the fae woman we found.” Zeila one of the Tracker race of Wyrmarch and Maura of the Dar’kind Fae had been working this side of the veil looking for a lost member of Maura’s family. Zeila made contact with Isobeau when Maura had been taken. The resulting rescue had brought them in for healing and help.

  “Rhys?”

  “Yes Mistress.”

  “Another matter, regarding Haydn.” He was their latest rescue from Drakin. A shifter who didn’t manifest on the time table deemed appropriate by the ruling bodies. Like so many others he was sold into slavery, serving the one of the Telihedran. He’d been badly used as a captive.

  “I was up in the early hours of the morning or I wouldn’t have heard him at all. Evidently a night terror captured him; His shouts would have woken the house if he’d been in his room. He seems to have taken to the kitchen at night instead of his quarters.”

  “Yes Mistress.”

  “So you know about this.”

  His curt nod revealed little.

  “I haven’t been able to get him to open up and talk to me. He’s holding it all in. The poison of his experiences seeks a way out during sleep. I feel it tearing him apart.”

  “I do too.” Rhys eyes shone with emotions he barely held in check. “I can do ought but watch over him. Anything more adds to the violation he experienced.”

  Isobeau had been thinking it was time to force the issue. She wanted to dig the pain out like a violent weed so that he could begin to heal. Something about Rhys tone of voice, derailed the thought. “Keep an eye on things. Let me know if you think of a way we can help. I can’t bear the anguish in his dream voice much longer.”

  “Nor can I.”

  His voice had her wondering just how much of Haydn’s projections Rhys actually felt, in a more than rhetorical sort of way. Was he saying Haydn’s pain had woven a way into Rhys own psyche?

  Her phone started its low chime indicating a call. So many difficult pieces of the puzzle were finding their way to her expecting resolution.

  ≽∞≼

  There they were. those meddlesome plan wreckers. He watched from his parked car vantage point as the rusty old dodge truck pulled up to park on the opposite side of the street, just down from the same Victorian house he watched this morning. He’d come here without much plan.

  The woman who lived here had an association of sorts with his quarry and it might behoove him to know more about her. She was reputed to be a healer of sorts. He hadn’t been able to learn very much about her from conventional sources.

  She seemed to be another person with mysterious, unknown, unverifiable past, maybe even one of them. If he could establish that, perhaps he might even use her to work on the beast he held. Yes, the other two arriving to watch her indicated she was something more than ordinary and his suspicious were probably right.

  His focus in watching now turned to the male pair sitting in their truck. Just seeing them there made his blood boil. How dare they intrude once again? Hadn’t they already done enough?

  At the corner of his eye he saw something and turned to see the healer skipping down the front steps a phone to her ear and car keys in hand. He pulled his hat down a little lower on his brow in case she glanced his way. If the two men weren’t here he could probably have grabbed her right now. As it was they blocked his every move.

  He started the car, watching her pull out from the curb in the older model nondescript white vehicle. It figured, everything about her encouraged invisibility. The men both ducked down as she drove by their parking place. They didn’t have the advantage of being quite as invisible. Once she’d passed, they hurriedly started the truck.

  The Chosen floored his own vehicle racing after the white economy car while the truck pulled onto the street. Without conscious decision he barreled down on the truck in a high stakes game of chicken. They swerved bouncing the curb and sliding toward the ditch. It was grim satisfaction for the disturbance they’d caused in his life.

  ≽∞≼

  All Wren needed now was coffee and a little breathing room. The shower hadn’t done anything to restore her balance after waking up from the afternoon sex nap half an hour ago with Caleb and Ethan. Or the disquieted feeling of them leaving her with an order of stay put we’ll be back. She didn’t miss that they hadn’t specifically said when they would be back.

  She jumped in her yellow Miata, then hit Izzy’s speed dial number on the cell phone, while piloting the small car out of the lot. It was only four blocks down to the pizza place in a side strip mall. The line opened with Izzy’s voice sounding more cheery than anyone had a right to.

  “Yeah, Wren-- What’s up?”

  “The Ground Up, now.” She barked the name of the local coffee bar into the phone, adding as an after-thought. “Please, I need someone to talk to.”

  So lost in thought she missed the turn into the plaza entrance she had to go around the block, damn. On the hope that they would be back soon, she’d order pizza-- the one fast food that was even good cold. She didn’t know what toppings they liked.

  Cheese was always a safe bet but she hated plain cheese. Her favorite pepperoni, mushrooms and black olives would have to do. She put in the order for two large pizzas and went across to The Ground. Next stop, caffeine, large quantities and keep it coming, hot and now.

  She scooted into the coffee shop and couldn’t bring herself to order. The smell turned her stomach to acid. She settled for a large skinny chai latte with colored sprinkles on the non-fat whip cream instead.

  That was why she was so fuzzy headed today; she had not had her quota of caffeine to get all her brain cells firing, much less the residual terror from her brush with death. She sat there sipping tea, lost in musing on the events of the day and trying to make sense of the insanity.

  Izzy slid into the seat across from her dressed in a red flowing peasant blouse and multi-layered skirt, apparently more than a little flustered for having been summoned from what she was doing, to come so quickly to the coffee shop. She looked the part of a gypsy fortune-teller, perfectly.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here faster. One of the new guys, Haydn, who joined the house recently, had a bad night. He’d had a really tough time in his former life and last night was an awful for him.”
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br />   Wren knew Izzy lived and worked at something that seemed like a residential half way house. She wasn’t sure if it was homeless men or addicts. She’d never thought to ask.

  Izzy just called it ‘the house’. Wren had the impression from past conversations that Isobeau helped men transition. Could one of them have followed Izzy to the store and invented a reason to try to hurt Wren? She closed her eyes and sighed. She was seeing boogie men where none existed.

  Wren’s expression must have given her inner turmoil away because Izzy stopped mid-rant and asked. “Honey, what’s wrong? How did your chin get cut? You’ve got bandages on your hands. What happened to you?”

  “I fell this morning, ah, the stairs. I may need you to come in and run the shop for a few days.” She could feel Izzy studying her. It wasn’t like Wren to bail out on her responsibilities, after months of excited planning and especially this close to an event.

  “I’ll be there for the Samhain festival we have planned but. . . something’s come up. I’ve met…I just need you to handle the shop for me, please.”

  “I thought maybe you’d hurt yourself worse than you look but…” Izzy breathed deep collecting her thoughts before speaking. “Oh my, hell, you’ve met him,” she gasped out with an exhale.

  Izzy had done a tarot reading the previous week, saying wild things about betrayer, turning of an age, and yes passionate love. The prediction was turning out to have potential for an uncanny accuracy.

  Wren wasn’t sure what the give-away was and she certainly didn’t intend on explaining. Lustful feelings did not equal lovers taken. She really wanted to hide out somewhere till everything returned to normal.

  Before she could lock her lips closed, she told Isabeau everything. Well, almost everything. She left out the part about the police coming by and wondering if she’d be filing bankruptcy by the end of the year. Oh and that someone evidently wanted to kill her…

  Okay she left out quite a bit of stuff actually. The conversation focused on the fact that she’d gotten pretty intimate, okay orgasmic intimate and wanted more with two freaking hot men, together, simultaneously, two at once. What kind of kinky freak was she?

  Izzy was after all her best friend. And, if a best friend couldn’t be trusted to help you make sense of your most intimate secrets, who could?

  The strong urge to escape the coffee shop rebounded. Just talking about them caused a need for Caleb and Ethan to flash over her as clearly as if they’d called her. Her panties were soaked with feminine moisture. The pearl between her legs felt swollen and twitched in rhythm to her thoughts. She clenched her thighs together to stop the pulsing. What was happening to her?

  Izzy didn’t seemed put off at the thoughts of her best friend participating in a sin city threesome as she babbled excitedly. “You’ve really let these two men you hardly know touch you and the big O and everything?”

  Wren felt the red fire of blush filling her cheeks as she whispered. “Yes it was all about me. Well, I could tell they really got off with what they did to me. I mean they really got-off, when I did. I’ve never had that happen before.”

  “I didn’t need to know that. We are in the T.M.I. zone. So what are the names of these two visions of testosterone? I know, I know, Derrick and Swenn. They have to be Swedish. The sexual mores of that country are much more flexible than ours. Although I’m finding it a little hard to believe you’re into the ménage scene. My little country girl is really a wild child huha?”

  “No they aren’t Swedish. They’re bronzed, dark haired, Aztec gods, Native American, I think. . . not blonde and their names are Caleb and Ethan and, oh great Goddess. Here I am worried about trusting my urge to have sex with them and I don’t even know their last name.”

  Izzy’s smile evaporated and all girly pretenses ended, putting Wren in mind of a street beat boxer D.J. sticking the needle to an abrupt halt, Burrup

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Wren didn’t like the turn the conversation had taken. Izzy grabbed Wren’s arm, her tone demanding. “What did you say?”

  “I said, oh Goddess, I don’t know their last name. They…I let them… What is wrong with me?”

  “It’s okay, Wren, I’ll settle for a repeat of their first names?”

  “Ethan and Caleb-- they’re brothers, identical twins actually.”

  “Did they claim you?” Izzy shook Wren sharply when she didn’t answer. “Did you bond with them?” Her friend’s hand pinched her arm, with a vice like grip that hurt.

  Izzy shook her again, whispering intently. “Tell me, did you bond?”

  Her dearest friend in the world had never scared her as much she did now. “What are you talking about, claiming, and bonding? You know I’m not into that BDSM stuff. I do know when I’m around them I can’t think of anything else but them. I feel giddy and light headed and I don’t know them well enough to feel this way. But I’m pretty sure I want to have more sex with them and I don’t care that I don’t even know their last name. I thought you’d be more freaked out at me embracing the kinky side of life having sex with two men at once.”

  “Their last name is Monroe. And yes, ewww I’m pretty freaked out that you’ve had sex with my brothers. That’s a picture I’ll never be able to erase.”

  “Your brothers? Are you sure? I didn’t even know you had brothers.”

  “Well I do, and my eyes are eternally scared from the images of you three doing the nasty together. I don’t have much doubt it’s them, you had me at Aztec Gods. Are they at your store?”

  And with one simple answer Wren was sucked further down the rabbit hole. “I left.” She mumbled like a child caught stealing cookies. Her stomach made a churning lurch.

  “We have to get you back. How could they let you leave at a time like this?”

  “Well, actually they left on some errand and told me to stay put. Have you ever known me to stay put when ordered to? I don’t think so. And no one let me have any caffeine today.”

  “You’ve probably been inhaling their pheromones all day.”

  “Inhaling? Oh! They do smell wonderful, like a musky sandalwood I can’t place.”

  “We have to get you home.” Izzy drug her from the chair. Izzy was quickly becoming Isobeau the crazed gypsy. Customers looked on with a mixture of amusement and concern.

  Izzy snatched the half-finished latte out of her hand. “You can’t drink this,” and dumped it in the trash before ushering her through the door.

  “Hey, that was a five buck chai latte tea!” she complained. Freaking Hell another caffeine opportunity lost.

  Her protest was greeted by a piercing scoff noise from Izzy.

  Her friend didn’t slow down as she rushed Wren across the parking lot toward the car, never releasing her hold. Izzy was all shouting at her about some bonding nonsense and now she was escorting her back to the store.

  Izzy froze. “Someone is watching us.” She continually scanned people on the street as if searching for lurking danger.

  “Watching us? Of course there are, you’re dragging me out of the coffee shop.”

  “No more than that. Tell me the hairs on the back of your neck aren’t prickling in awareness.”

  They’d almost made the safety of the car. Okay, there was a strangeness nagging at her. Wren wasn’t sure how much of that was a result of Izzy’s suggestion or just cream on top of her wacked out cake of a morning.

  “Are you like them?” She blurted.

  Izzy resumed her march and asked in a guarded but curious voice, “Like them?”

  “Can you hear people’s thoughts?”

  She snorted. “They can’t hear people’s thoughts.”

  “They can hear mine.”

  Izzy’s beautiful golden complexion noticeably paled. “No I’m not like them. Damn. You may have started the bond and didn’t realize what you’d done.”

  Wren remembered the pizza order. “Wait, I have to go to Georgieo’s.” Izzy didn’t look like she was going to let Wren make a detour. “You wouldn’t
let me finish my latte you can at least let me get food.”

  Izzy closed her eyes and grimaced at Wren’s statement “You can have it delivered.”

  “No I can’t. I’ve already paid and it won’t take a second for pick up.” She turned toward the pizza shop with Izzy in tow.

  “You’re feeding them? Don’t tell me you also obeyed a random urge to clothe them?”

  “No they left in a big rush over something. I ordered enough for left overs in case they come back though. And yes, I’d bled all over Caleb’s shirt so giving them T-shirts couldn’t be called a random urge.”

  Wren’s lips burned with the memory of Ethan’s kiss.

  Izzy mused more to herself in exasperation. “You’ve got to stay with them to overcome your Daevedar?”

  “My what?” Wren didn’t feel good. She hoped the head spinning vertigo didn’t start again.

  “Didn’t they tell you anything?” Izzy hissed keeping her voice down so no one could hear what they were saying. “You each have a test. Usually some weakness you have to conquer. The Daevedar challenge. The Goddess won’t bless your union until that is accomplished, no blessing, no marks, no relief from the irrational urge to fuck like bunnies all the time. I can’t believe they haven’t already told you this.”

  “I don’t want a union, blessed or otherwise.” Although fucking like bunnies, now that had some appeal. Wren just walked deeper into her own personal freaked out Wonderland.

  ≽∞≼

  Caleb took a firm grip on his pissed off angst. The psychic pathway led them here following Isobeau, only to find Wren, sitting in a public coffee shop talking to none other than the Watcher in question. The guy who ran them off the road must be here somewhere too, for whatever place he held in the drama unfolding.

  “I’ll bet if we catch that guy he can tell us something about Wren’s stairs.”