Hearts Under Fire (Dragons of Ember Brooke Book 2)

by Victoria Zak

  Stone clenched his teeth, stifling a growl. Harrowing pain rocked him hard as his backbone overextended, popping vertebrae-by-vertebrae into thick, short spikes. Silver scales like armor stretched over his skin. His head morphed back and forth from human to dragon as if he fought against the shift. Cyn needs me!

  The light at the end of his tunnel got smaller and smaller, until he was looking through the eyes of his dragon. The thrust of his massive wings broke the last chain holding him back. He whirled his massive head around and screeched like a T-Rex at one of the officers while his tail swiped behind him at another, knocking the asshole over.

  One officer fled like a bitch, the other laid on the ground moaning in pain. With all self-control gone, Stone charged him with his mouth open. His razor-sharp teeth sliced through his skin like warm butter. And Stone liked it.

  A mist of gray flooded the hangar. Stone looked up from his meal. A sweet aroma unlike anything he’d smelled before drifted past him. He sneezed and coughed as the vapor stung his nose and throat. What the…

  Suddenly, all his rage was gone. A calmness washed over him causing his eyelids to flutter and his massive dragon body to teeter.

  His body hit the ground with a thud. He was out for the count.

  12

  Cynthia slowly opened her eyes. She was sprawled out on an uncomfortable cot on her stomach, as if someone had dropped her there without a care. She tried to move, but her arms and legs felt heavy. What had happened to her?

  A fog clouded the details of what had gone down. Bits and pieces surfaced as she tried to put things together. She remembered Stone had been arrested, she had been in Bryce’s car, and then—she couldn’t remember a thing except for a terrifying feeling she wasn’t making it home.

  Willing herself to move, Cynthia rolled onto her back and stared at the metal beam ceiling. A fresh scent was in the air like the smell of brand new construction. Where was she? Sitting up, she noticed she wasn’t wearing her regular clothes. Someone had dressed her in blue scrubs. Was she in a hospital?

  A wave of nausea rushed through her like a freight train as she sat up. In controlled breaths, she inhaled and exhaled, praying she wouldn’t get sick. It was helping—a little. Not having the strength to fight the drowsiness, Cynthia leaned back against the cold concrete wall and closed her eyes.

  A loud noise jerked her awake. Cynthia opened her eyes and stared in horror at the vertical bars in front of her. What the… She climbed off the cot. She gripped a bar, one in each hand, and pulled with all her might. They were solid—not budging.

  Frantically, she turned around. Perhaps there was another way out. But where? She was confined to three concrete walls and a barred door. A cot pressed against one wall and a white porcelain throne sat in the far corner. A prison cell.

  Trapped inside this cage, she was already feeling the air around her thicken and the walls closing in. She needed her dragon to bust her out.

  With her survival instincts kicking, she called out to her dragon. Silence. What? She tried again, but this time she called out louder and reached deeper. This wasn’t the time for her beast to take a cat nap.

  Still nothing.

  Cynthia took a step away from the bars. An emptiness filled her—her dragon was gone. In a daze of confusion, she sat down on the cot and rubbed her hands nervously up and down her thighs. Stay calm, Cyn. As she rubbed her left thigh, it ached. She rolled up her pantleg and found a purple lump.

  An image of Bryce plunging a syringe into her thigh flashed before her.

  Racing to the metal bars, Cynthia went Berserker. She put the death grip on the bars and pulled, insisting they bend. “Let me out!” She rattled the cage doors. “Bryce, let me go!”

  “Shh.”

  Cynthia abruptly stopped. Did she just hear something—someone?

  “Hello,” Cynthia called. From across the way, she saw another door—another cell. It was dark inside. “Is somebody there?”

  Silence, fucking silence.

  Coming to the sobering realization she wasn’t going anywhere soon, Cyn slid down the barred door. Her ass hit the floor, her legs stretched out in front, she felt defeated.

  Cynthia banged her head against the bars as she thought of a way out. There had to be one, she needed to think. Without her dragon, whatever happened there, she needed a weapon. Something to slam Bryce’s face in the next time she saw him.

  She wasn’t the type to give up or wait for someone to rescue her. All she needed was that split second and she’d gain the upper hand. But waiting was the hard part. It gave her time to think about the what ifs. What if she didn’t make it out alive? What if she stayed locked up forever? What if she never saw Stone again? What if Stone was in danger?

  Fear pricked her skin. A lagging feeling she couldn’t shake warned her Bryce was behind Stone’s arrest. The whole situation was off from the time the officers arrived in their unmarked cars. Yep, something was fishy in Chinatown.

  She should have warned him. Sorrow washed over her and her chest tightened. She leaned her head back and sighed. She didn’t know what to believe anymore. What had her mate turned into over the past year? Murder…lies…secrets… What was she supposed to do—pull a Bonnie and Clyde—rescue her man and outrun the authorities?

  Cynthia stared at the cot as she pondered her last words. “Yes,” she whispered. “Rescue her dragon.” She shot up and strode to the cot, flipping the damn thing over. She ripped the thin mattress away from the metal frame, then worked legs where the rods connected. Finally, she loosened a rod the length of a baseball bat. She stood and took a swing, trying out her new weapon.

  “Shh.”

  Cynthia froze. Now, she knew someone was there. She looked beyond the bars to the cell across from hers. “I know you’re there.” She strode to the door. “Come into the light so I can see you.”

  “You must be quiet. They don’t like noisy females.”

  The voice came from a woman; Cynthia was sure of it. She sounded young and scared. “Hello, my name is Cynthia.”

  “’Tis nice to meet you, Cynthia.”

  “What’s your name?” Cynthia needed to keep the girl talking, build up trust. She was her way out of here.

  “I’m no one special,” her voice trailed off.

  Cynthia’s heart broke for the girl.

  “Charlotte,” the girl whispered as if it was a secret. “My name is Charlotte.”

  “That’s a beautiful name.” Cynthia said. “How long have you been here, Charlotte?”

  “I…I can’t remember.”

  Cynthia heard a cot creak, then saw the girl walk out of the shadows and into the light. “Long enough for this to happen.” Charlotte stood sideways and rubbed her pregnant belly.

  Oh…my…dragon…loving… Cynthia’s hand flew over her mouth. Terror spread across her face. “Did they…” She couldn’t finish her sentence as she thought of the worst.

  Charlotte shook her head.

  Dirt smudged her face and her feet were bare. She wore scrubs like hers but bigger. “I’m so sorry.” The urge to reach out to this young beautiful girl and wrap her in a comforting hug tore at Cynthia’s heartstrings.

  “They tell me I’m special, but I’m not treated like a woman of worth. They say this babe will be the first of its kind.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve told you too much.” Charlotte turned away.

  “Wait,” Cynthia begged. “You must know something about this place. Where are we?”

  Charlotte looked over her shoulder, hesitant to answer. “This is what they call the breeding quarters.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, you’re here for the greater good. They will put a babe in your belly.”

  The hell they will, Cynthia thought. If they valued their balls, no one would come close to her goods. “Who is they?”

  “I cannot say.”

  Charlotte came closer to the bars. “I don’t know why they picked me. I’m not a She-Dragon like
you. But I’m different.” She reached her arms through the slats of her door. White, glowing Celtic markings scrolled up her arms.

  Holy shit! Cynthia staggered backward. She only knew her ancestors through tales and teachings, but seeing one right before her eyes was…unbelievable. She fell to her knees, bowing before the Dragonkine female. “Your Grace.”

  “Silly,” Charlotte warned. “Get up. They’re coming.”

  Grabbing the piece of metal, Cynthia had removed from the cot, she stood with it concealed behind her back. It was obvious Charlotte had no clue who she was or how she’d gotten here. Either these bastards drugged her to lose her memory or she’d experienced some kind of trauma. Either way, Charlotte needed her, and it was her duty as a She-Dragon to protect her people, especially an ancient Dragonkine female.

  An officer in black fatigues slammed his nightstick against Charlotte’s door causing her to cower at the back of the cage. “I’ve told you, I don’t like noisy bitches.”

  “Leave her alone,” Cynthia yelled.

  “Well, what do we have here?” He licked his lips. “I see you’re finally awake.” He took a ring of keys from his hip and fumbled with them, until he found the key he was looking for. With a nauseating grin on his face, he winked at Cynthia as he unlocked her cage.

  He entered, eyeing the torn-up cot. “What the fuck it this?”

  Cynthia stood silent.

  “Not so talkative now, are ya?” There was only one word for the bastard, disgusting. Well, perhaps a few more words fit like foul, evil, and…

  The officer strolled up to her. She took a step back and brought the metal beam in front of her, holding it like she was at home plate and ready to swing. Putting all her strength in one upward blow, she connected with the officer’s head, giving him one hell of an uppercut. Spit and blood and teeth flew out of his mouth as he fell onto the broken cot pieces.

  “Dumbass!” Yes, that was the last descriptive.

  Quickly, Cynthia retrieved his pistol, shoving it behind her back in the waistband of her scrubs. Picking up the key ring, she raced to the cell door and thank fuck, it was still unlocked. She crossed over to Charlotte’s cell. “I’m getting you out of here,” Cynthia said as she tried a key in the lock. Damn! It was the wrong one. Every key looked the same and there had be at least fifty on the ring. She didn’t have time to try them all, time was of the essence.

  “Do you know which key fits your lock?” Cynthia asked Charlotte, who had stayed hidden in her cell. “Please, we don’t have much time.”

  “How do I know you won’t hurt me?”

  Cynthia paused. Of course, the poor girl didn’t know who to trust. Who knew what these creeps had been telling her. “Listen, you need to trust me, woman-to-woman. I can help you but first I need to find—”

  “The dragon.” Charlotte walked to the door and took the black ring from Cynthia.

  “You know where he is?”

  “Of course.” Confusion set across her face. “For a She-Dragon, your senses are weak.”

  The lock popped open and Cynthia helped Charlotte open the cell door. “Look, I don’t know what they did to me, but my dragon is gone.”

  Charlotte paused in front of her, shaking her head. “No, silly, she’s not gone. She’s sleeping. The Slayers inject the She-Dragons with an anti-shift serum. They say it’s safest this way.”

  “Of course, they do.” Cynthia rolled her eyes and motioned for Charlotte to lead the way.

  Charlotte led her down an aisle. On each side a row of interlocking cell chambers, just like the one she was in, lined the walls. There had to be ten on each side. As they walked by a cell, Cynthia checked for victims. Thank the Elders, she hadn’t found anyone.

  As they reached the end of the aisle, they were stopped by two huge rectangular doors held together by a thick steel bar. Cynthia looked around her. Where was she? Everything around her looked industrial, like a warehouse.

  “Come on.” Charlotte waved her over to a smaller door on the side of the building. With one twist of the key, Charlotte unlocked the door and began to open it.

  “Wait.” Cynthia pulled the pistol from her waistband. “Let me go first.”

  “No need for that,” Charlotte said. “Put it away. I know how to be unseen.”

  Against her better judgement, Cynthia returned the weapon.

  “Keep down and follow me.”

  As Cynthia took in her surroundings, it became clear these buildings were aircraft hangars. She couldn’t tell how many.

  Hiding in the shadows, they moved from hangar-to-hangar, dashing behind stacked wooden crates. They had even dodged an officer entering one of the buildings. Charlotte moved with such ease through the obstacles, Cynthia thought, this wasn’t the girl’s first adventure.

  “I take it you’ve done this before,” Cynthia whispered as she stood watch while Charlotte unlocked the side door to the hangar.

  “Shhh, he’s in here.”

  “Who? They?”

  “No, not they. Your dragon.”

  Cynthia drew her pistol and pushed by the girl. The building was dark. So dark she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. She still waved her gun from side-to-side, staying on guard. She had no clue if they were hiding inside, too.

  One cautious step after another, she moved closer inside. Without her dragon she was relying on her weaker half which didn’t sit well with her. However, she still knew how to run a risk assessment. Given the eerie silence and the drastic temperature change, from cold to frigid told her she was close to Stone.

  A strange sensation like someone watching her, made her halt. A low throaty rumbling vibration sounded off, warning her to tread softly. She couldn’t tell what direction it was coming from. “Stone,” she whispered. “I know you’re here.”

  Cynthia froze as she felt the heat of someone standing behind her. Hot air blew across the back of her neck—that someone was sniffing her. She swallowed hard. Great Goddess, she prayed she hadn’t walked into a trap. She’d trusted someone who she didn’t know which wasn’t like her. But she had no choice. Trapped inside a cage wasn’t an option. She’d rather die escaping than succumb to defeat. Besides, Stone needed her.

  Slowly, she pivoted toward the heavy breathing.

  A thud followed by a pop, echoed through the building. Blinding bright lights lit up the building like a spotlight. Cynthia threw her arm across her eyes, protecting them from the light.

  “Found it,” Charlotte called out.

  An ear-piercing screech bellowed. Cynthia peeked over her arm. A mouth of razor-sharp teeth flew at her, snapping and growling. With her eyes still out of focus, she stumbled back and tripped, falling on her ass. On the way down, she dropped the pistol. Shit! Doing the booty scootin’ boogie, she scurried backward, away from the heavy breathing beast stalking her. Today wasn’t a good day to be dragon food.

  She knocked into something hard, preventing her movement. Her blurry vision cleared just in time as she met the beast’s eyes. “Stone?” Yes. It was him. But he didn’t recognize her—not without her dragon.

  The beast lowered his head, nostrils flared, and a cloud of air blew out of his nose like a bull ready to charge. This was it…she was going to die. Slamming her eyes closed, for she didn’t want to witness her death, she turned her head away from the charging beast. “Stone,” she whispered in a last resort to save her life, “It’s me, Cyn.”

  Air heaved from his long nasal cavity and gusted over her face. She gritted her teeth in anticipation of his fangs slicing and ripping her flesh.

  A warm, dry nose nuzzled the side of her neck, almost pushing her over. Cynthia warily opened her eyes. She turned her head to meet the dragon eye-to-eye. She’d weathered the storm…she was alive. Goddess be.

  “My sweet love, what have they done to you?” She caressed his cheek.

  Stone turned away and walked back to the center of the aircraft hangar. Chains binding him to the floor dragged behind him. Cynthia got to her feet and foll
owed him. He whipped around and growled, warning her to stay away.

  “I know.” She threw her hands up. “I should have warned you about the arrest.”

  The massive silver and black dragon shook its head and growled again. This time showing more

  pearly whites.

  Without her dragon, she couldn’t communicate telepathically with him. Dragon radio wasn’t broadcasting today folks, and the signals he was throwing down were lost in translation.

  Going with the I’m-still-pissed-at-you option, Cynthia pleaded, “Stone, can we discuss this later? We need to get out of here.”

  “I’m afraid it’s too late.” Charlotte stood next to her, eyeing the dragon.

  Cynthia’s brows pinched together. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve seen this before. They torment the poor creatures into madness.”

  This couldn’t be. She knew what happened when a Dragonkine was pushed into insanity. She also knew what had to be done. Once a dragon went rogue—there’s no coming back. Something in their biological makeup changed; a chemical imbalance brought on by different kinds of stimulus. And judging the wounds on Stone’s body, trauma, both mental and physical, was a double whammy. So yeah, having a dragon running on all eight cylinders and no self-control was one killer combination.

  The thought of Stone flying off into the black void to meet his maker tore her up inside. Every Dragonkine knew there wasn’t a place in paradise for the ones gone rogue. No, there wasn’t eternal peace where Stone was headed. Her chest tightened as she fought back the tears. Dearest Goddess, not Stone. He deserved better than this.

  “There must be a way to get through to him. Charlotte, I can’t live without him.”

  “Show him you are not going to hurt him.” The keyring was placed in Cynthia’s hand. “Unlock his chains.”

  Cynthia looked down at the keys with a heavy heart. Stone had already shown aggressive behavior. If she released him, he could kill her, or worse yet, she could free a dangerous beast out into the world. But, Stone had to be in there somewhere. He had a chance to kill and didn’t. This one time she had to stop over-analyzing the situation and trust their love…trust him.