by Eden Glenn
No. No. Wren. You were supposed to get help. You’re are not safe here. The words echoed around in his head unable to find voice or mental thought for projection. What fiendish hell was this delusion? He couldn’t grasp how she could be here. Surely this was not real.
≽∞≼
Wren didn’t know too much about real dragons. She just hoped that he could somehow understand she was here to help him. She tried keys in the locks. He lay moaning oblivious to her presence. There, the third key fit and released the locked chain around one leg. She climbed over his massive forearm thick as tree trunks.
“Easy there Mr. Dragon.” Polite seemed the way to go and she let her voice take on that chatty tone that you might use with scared dogs when you needed to soothe them, hoping that her tone of voice would go a long way toward bridging their definite communication gap.
“Did I tell you I know a couple of dragon guys. Yes, I do. They might be friends of yours, Caleb and Ethan. And I don’t think they would be very happy with me right now. I’m thinking they would have told me to find my way out of here and run for the hills. So you take that into account and don’t squash me with one of your legs or tail, okay?”
Talking kept her moving and as calm as she could be under the circumstances. She unlocked the cuffs and chains from three legs, dragging the heavy thick weight off of him. This stuff would have held an ocean liner at anchor. Someone had devastated this poor animal.
It was hard to see him as other than a beast at the moment. To think of him as human was beyond comprehension. She looked back at the bleeding, oozing patches in his hide. “You’re going to be okay, just hang in there with me.”
Where were Ethan and Caleb? They would know what to do to help the dragon. Her fear for them falling into the trap warred with her need for their help. She struggled with the keys. Each lock had required a different one. Her nerves were at the breaking point. Finally, a key that did fit into the lock on the neck collar and would hopefully unlock the clasp.
He started to roll beneath her. “Hold on, just hold on.” He still had one leg bound that she couldn’t reach. She struggled to unlatch the iron band. Once done it dropped to the ground.
He thrashed on the floor with a mournful bleating sound. The final lock holding his hind leg was exposed. She kept trying keys while he seemed to be waking up to what she was doing. His movement kept her from being able to get keys in the mechanism.
“You’ve got to be still and let me try to unlock this.” He didn’t seem to understand. His wings rustled. Great. All she needed was him flapping around still chained by one leg. Oh, crimeny, what do I do now? Looking around for an alternate plan, her sword winked a pulse of power in the dim light. It had certainly been sharp enough earlier.
She gave his tail wide birth, working her way around him back to the table where she left her sword. His struggling increased. He extended his tail, sweeping it over her head and landing with a crash against the shelving by the desk.
“Oh shit, oh shit.” She grabbed up the sword considering its dull edge. This had to work. Spinning around last time had sharpened the thing.
Sword, I really need you to work. She danced around the fidgeting dragon, swinging the sword in figure eight arches around her body. She was comforted by the prickly feel of energy coursing down her arms. Ah, the same lyrical singing from the steel as she swung it whispered of power.
Please let me hit the iron shackle and not the dragon. Please, Please sword, free him. She prayed.
Before the animal could think she was attacking him she slipped around behind him and used the blade in a cleaving chop. The steel seemed to sing louder on her downward stroke impacting the iron cuff around the dragon’s hind leg with a resounding clank.
She opened her eyes in time to see the thick iron encasing his leg split apart and drop to the floor. He was loose and he knew it. He reared up, turning with a roar. Wren backed up against the wall butted there by the Dragon’s huge head. His turquoise eyes studying her sharp and shrewd while he alternately sniffed and blew air over her body.
“Easy there Mr. Dragon. No harm, no foul.”
He raised his head and bellowed causing her to jump. Her movement, in turn, made him pin her again on the wall, as if she had any intention of moving. Although running at this point was beginning to seem like a sensible decision.
Then the dragon started to…deflate? Writhing, wiggling, agonizing change came upon him. It wasn’t a quick magical thing like she’d seen Izzy do in transformation to and from the small silver dragon shape.
This was a laborious process that made her cringe. How much of the agony in the process was because of his injury. She wanted to look away, that can’t be normal, but watched anyway, first mesmerized then shocked.
The man who had dropped out of her life without saying good bye lay at her feet. Freaking hell, Kiernan Walker was a dragon shifter?
His brown hair hung shaggy around his neck in stringy oily strands, longer than it had the last time she’d seen him. He was filthy and gaunt. She’d seen homeless people in better shape.
What was she thinking? Of course what happened to the dragon would be reflected in the man. He didn’t seem to have wounds or chunks of skin missing. She could tell because he was very naked, completely naked. Nothing left to wonder about there. She stared, watched him concentrate and then a small dark brief appeared covering his dangly bits.
How did he do that? It put her in mind of the briefs the guys wore in the hot tub. There was definitely something they hadn’t told her. He stumbled and she rushed to support him. His dragon was gravely injured. All that was now on the inside, she supposed. The man spoke with his voice cracking, his eyes still glowing teal in the low light of the room.
“Wren, what are you doing here?”
“It looks like I’m rescuing you, you big oaf. Should I come back later?”
“No. Wren you can’t be here...” He’s plotting to trap you.
“Tell me about it. But I am here and maybe it would be a good idea if we discussed all this somewhere else.”
His voice fell to a whisper. “Is this real?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Yes.” He clutched her pulling her tight against his side. “I have to get you out of here.”
“Who’s rescuing who mister.” The handsome man, now painfully thin, with a haunted light in his eyes that spoke of the horrors he had experienced chained in dragon form. How long had Kiernan been here?
“You didn’t leave me by choice, did you?”
Kiernan kept her pinned to his side and stumbled along dragging her toward the door.
“No Wren, I was taken, months ago, when I left your house.” He stopped. “You heard me and came?”
“Heard you?” She shook her head.
His eyes widened taking in her makeshift dress and sword as his face paled more, breathing deeply. “I thought that we connected. But you carry the male dragon scent of another.” Reason left his eyes. A blank hollow despair settled on his features. He didn’t seem coherent.
“Don’t pass out on me now. I can’t carry you. We’ve got to get out of here while we can.” If they could find where out was.
They struggled to run through what Wren now recognized as some kind of meat processing plant. While she didn’t see the evidence of the torture on his human body he moved with an automatic jerky dis-coordination hinting at the infirmity his form had transferred inside.
Far from top shape it was up to her to save them. Using the sword like a cane, she plodded on, Kiernan leaned on her for support, her arm wrapped around his back holding him as much as she could. After minutes of wandering around she found them back where they’d started. They’d traveled a big loop. Kiernan was leaning on her heavier now.
“Sorry, it must be this other way.” There was only one other choice. Why hadn’t she chosen that one first. This hero stuff wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She wasn’t sure who was shaking more, Kiernan or herself.
Afte
r another eternity of dragging him along the passage way, stopping twice to let him lean on the wall and gather his strength, he seemed to rally. The light was a bit better and the air a little clearer. Pushing open the outer door, Wren discovered they were in the middle of nowhere.
There was nothing to see on the skyline but miles of forest and sunshine. She wracked her brain trying to remember if she’d heard anything about an out-of-business slaughterhouse anywhere near town to orient her bearings. There was little chance of much traffic this far out.
How would they walk back to town, if they could figure out which way town even was? Kiernan leaned on the building, panting as the outer door closed behind them with a clicked lock. A car was pulling into the parking lot.
“Wait that’s Ron Packard. He can help us.” Wren turned away to run toward the SUV.
Kiernan rooted to the ground unable or unwilling to move another step. Ron would help her. What brought him way out here anyway?
“Wren. Nooo.” Panicked horror laced Kiernan’s voice.
Wren stopped confused, looking back and forth between Kiernan, who was coming completely unglued, and the advancing Ron. He had jumped from the car and started running toward them waving his arms and yelling.
Kiernan’s expression didn’t seem quite sane as a spectrum of emotion played over his face. Wren settled for wild eyed fear as the best description.
She glanced back at Ron. Granted, her break up with him had been unpleasant but... He certainly didn’t look like the controlled biologist she’d dated.
Of course there she stood in a black bath towel carrying a sword, next to an almost naked man. They both looked pretty disreputable, dangerous even. That made Ron’s expression and yelling tirade even odder.
The memory surfaced of Isobel’s tarot reading, The Magician, someone is not who they seem. Beware the betrayer in your midst.
Oh shit, shit. The betrayer wasn’t Kiernan who she thought dumped her. Nor, Isobel who’d turned out to be spying on her for the Dragon race. The betrayer was freaking-Ron-stinking-Packard. She turned back to Kiernan, hefting her sword as she ran.
Ron pounced on her, punching her from behind. Her sword went flying. Ron grabbing her hair was probably the only thing that kept her from plowing the ground on her face. He twisted her pony tail savagely around his hand and wrenching her face next to his he hissed.
“You meddlesome little witch. What have you done?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
She fought trying to get free of Ron’s hold. He used her pony tail like a rudder to control her and maneuver out of her way. He jerked her hair, punishing her when she managed to twist around to connect a punch or kick. She was infuriated at how easy it was for him to evade her. If she hadn’t dropped her sword she’d skewer the rat.
Her anger escaladed thinking about what he had done to Kiernan, how Ron had used and manipulated her. She kept kicking and swinging wanting to land one good punch. The angrier she got the harder she fought.
She heard a deep roar. The sound behind her was a primal challenge that could only be dragon. The trumpeted sound momentarily distracted Ron and she felt his grip on her hair loosen.
Wren tried to twist free but only managed to turn to face him. He whipped around placing her between him and the threat. She kicked as hard as she could against his shin bone on her way toward kneeing him in the groin. He punched her in the stomach ending her struggle.
His blow robbed her of the air necessary to scream when a massive claw gripped her, jerking her off the ground. She heard a hiss and snapping sound that could only be dragon jaws. Ron’s hand wrapped in the rope of her hair gave him leverage to hang on to her grappling to pull her back to ground.
Wren thrashed, kicking out feeling satisfaction when her foot landed with a squashy thunk in Ron’s crotch followed by a crunching smash as her punch connected with his nose. A swath of her hair ripped loose in his hand. With a pain filled scream he released his hold and hit the ground rolling.
Finally free, she looked up to see Kiernan in dragon form again. She screamed her loss, “My sword, Kiernan my sword,” woefully out of her reach in the dirt. The Dragon faltered dropping toward the ground. No way around it, she would be crushed when he crashed. She braced for impact, a bone jarring landing that somehow wasn’t the tackle she’d expected.
Her cheek scraped the earth, a glare of light in the grass, her sword and within reach. She grabbed the blade hilt and clutched it against her in a body hug as the dragon’s hind feet sprung launching them into the air with another spine cracking whip.
He beat his huge wings for height to clear the trees. In the dark she’d first thought his color was black, but realized he was a deep indigo blue, same as the cloth she’d wrapped around herself. She tried to shift her position in his grip. Thankful for the rescue, she wasn’t going to complain about the discomfort or jerking her off the ground with Ron hanging onto her hair, or the whiplash effect of the landing/launch needed to retrieve her sword.
Caleb and Ethan projected their thoughts in unison amplifying one another as their mental voice assaulted her. What in the seven fucking hells are you doing?
Well at the moment I am flying clutched by a dragon who used to be my boyfriend. We’re trying to evading capture from a mad man I used to date and I’m catching crap from you, my current boyfriends.
Caleb’s weariness pounded at her. The hard metallic taste of their fatigue poured through the link stinging her tongue, deflating her anger at their bossy demands.
I fucking told you to stay put so we could find you. Ethan’s anger was an obvious veneer for his worry.
Wren tried to shift her position again as the gripping hold became increasingly more uncomfortable.
Evidently you weren’t listening when I, told you, that staying put wasn’t an option, Sherlock. So, what’s your next brilliant plan? She grumbled.
We’re coming for you.
The uncharted miles of National forest rolled beneath them like a verdant green carpet. Kiernan seemed to be struggling to carry her. In his weakened state she didn’t know how long he could fly or where he was taking her. The pines below her looked like clusters of arrows waiting for him to drop her onto their sharp impaling points. The dragon dropped into free fall causing Wren to scream.
“What happened?” Caleb and Ethan’s combined mental voice made a discordant harmonic tone in her head.
The dragon had recovered and beat his wings to hold their altitude. I’m fine. I always scream on thrill rides.
Kiernan seemed to be flying on auto pilot now. Every wing beat felt labored.
Kiernan’s been held captive and tortured for months. He’s very week and seems to be fading fast.
Wren was trying to figure out what to do or how to convince Kiernan to land when she heard a Dragon’s confrontational brassy blast of sound. Kiernan swerved defensively twisting her harder and forcing another startled scream past her lips.
The attacking dragon swept down on Kiernan positioned with the sun at his back like an avenging angel. His massive bulk blocked the light casting she and the dragon in shadow. Air pushed around him from the flap of the advancing dragon’s huge wing span. In her position, clutched in Kiernan’s claws she couldn’t see the Dragon.
“Rogue, you will follow me to land.” The words thundered in a blended harmonious command as if spoken simultaneous by two voices, Caleb and Ethan?
The massive dragon flew over Kiernan slightly ahead of him. Looking up she could see the monstrous body of the huge bronze dragon half again as large as Kiernan. Okay maybe dragons were even bigger than the one Kiernan shifted into. Who was that, Ethan or Caleb? There was only one dragon, then she saw why. The brothers had said they shifted into dragon. Now she realized the component they missed revealing, not that it mattered, but saying dragon instead of dragons plural wasn’t a mistake.
Their dragon had two freaking heads. She could make out twin necks erupting from the wide muscular chest in graceful arches to two very larg
e dragon heads with two very angry dragon expressions, if she was any judge of dragon emotions. Freaking hell, Caleb and Ethan in dragon form made a formidable sight.
Within moments they’d arrived at an open stretch of forest to accommodate landing. The two dragons touched down simultaneously in the field.
On landing Kiernan shifted to his human form in a somewhat easier transition than she’d witnessed before. She scooted across the ground, away from him as he changed. She clutched her sword, more than a little shell shocked by the whole experience.
Wren sprang up, gasping with the relief of finally being back on terra firma and free. She fought back a laugh as the bus sized two headed creature waddled toward her carrying her purple and pink backpack with her sword scabbard tied through the shoulder loops.
She threw herself between the kneeling penitent Kiernan and the advancing dragon. Ethan and Caleb roared through the transition back to human form. Bronze leather looking briefs kept them from being naked but didn’t hide the fact that their desire for her was equal to their anger. They were really pissed.
Pulling her away from Kiernan, Caleb brought his lips down on hers in a claiming kiss, before glaring at the still kneeling Kiernan. Ethan nipped her neck low at her shoulder, a punishing reminder of his displeasure as much as a stamp of ownership while he glared at Kiernan daring him to move. Caleb swung her around behind them blocking her from Kiernan’s view.
“You dare too much rogue.” Ethan growled at the quietly kneeling man, as he charged toward him with his sword drawn. “You’ve been charged with crimes against the realm.”
Ethan had one long sharp and scary looking sword. Caleb had two twin blades that were shorter and no less sharp and scary looking.
“Where did you two get swords?” Wren had had about enough of their pushy dominance.
Caleb arched an eyebrow, looking at her with patient explanation he gnashed his blades together. “Tail spikes,” as if that explained everything. Ethan advanced on Kiernan.
