Playing with Fyre (Alien Dragon Shifter Series Book 3)

by Cara Bristol

  “All right,” he agreed.

  She moved into the center of the courtyard, shifted, clasped him in her talons, and leaped into the sky.

  * * * *

  Hands folded, O’ne slowly circled the perimeter of the hushed sanctuary, her feet following the serene, precise, measured ritualistic steps. Her mind and fyre, however, refused to quiet. They roiled, focused on H’ry.

  Her chest felt like it would explode. The moment of rebirth drew nigh, except…

  Smooth veinless walls soared to a domed ceiling curving over an expansive rotunda. Pristine. Pure. Unsullied. The temple was as it should be, except…

  Outside hallowed walls, the twelve guardians had assumed their vigil. Inside, her white-gowned acolytes held their oil burners and formed another protective ring. Had their furlough of freedom reinforced their commitment? Or did they, like her, live with regrets?

  K’ryn, S’linda… One-by-one, she recognized them, calling forth their fyres. H’ora, T’sia… She froze mid-step. Only eleven were present. The rebirth required all twelve. How could she have begun the ritual and not noticed the circle was incomplete? Because of H’ry. Thoughts of him stole focus that should have been on her duty.

  “Where is L’yla?” she asked.

  “She ventured out last night but has not returned,” R’nay spoke up in a quiet voice.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  While old lava tunnels afforded a convenient, natural highway, they did not necessarily allow for the most direct route from point A to point B.

  The space lizard zoomed across the toxic sky, as if in a race, according to one of the techs in the control room. Hicks continued to relay coordinates but offered little else in the way of information.

  Because the dragon moved so damn fast, and their route was roundabout, they’d been forced to scuttle the plan to get ahead of it and were now going to follow it to its final destination and kill it there.

  “Give me an update. How are we doing?” Biggs barked into the mic. Everything in the twisting, winding tunnels looked the same, and he’d become disoriented. He knew they had to go where the tunnels went, but it almost seemed as if Hicks was setting the most circuitous course possible, like he wanted the dragon to get away. But if that was the case, wouldn’t one of the techs in the control room have said something? Assuming the idiots noticed.

  “The target passed over and cleared Dragon Town. New coordinates are 09.09.0056,” Hicks rattled off numbers in a rush. He’d become quite the speed talker. Biggs sure hoped he could trust the fucker. If there was something funny going on, Biggs wouldn’t send an enforcer after Hicks, he’d off the son of a bitch himself.

  “Everyone got the coordinates?” he addressed the team.

  At the affirmatives, he punched the code into his car. Around the next bend, the mining car veered in a different direction. “What’s out there?”

  “Almost nothing,” Hicks replied. “It’s uninhabited. The only building in the entire sector is that plain round pillared one.”

  “The one that replaced the one they burned?”

  “Yes, the new one.” Hicks paused for such a long moment, Biggs figured he was done. But then the ops manager added, “And…she just landed. At the new building.”

  “She? You know the dragon’s gender?”

  A nervous-sounding chuckle followed a brief pause. “It seemed more feminine than the others.”

  The men roared, and Biggs laughed, too. “Anybody have any problems killing a girl dragon?”

  “Hell no, boss! The only good dragon is a dead dragon,” chortled one of the men.

  “The dragon has shifted into demiforma—it’s definitely female, and she has entered the building,” Hicks reported after the laughter had subsided. “You’ll arrive at the closest usable fumarole in about two minutes. From there, it’s a half-mile hike. I counted a dozen dragons guarding the exterior. They’re huge. I don’t think you should do this.”

  Were there really a dozen dragons, or was Hicks trying to scare him off?

  “One for each of us!” crowed an enforcer. The others cheered.

  The enthusiasm served as an indication of their stupidity. Only a moron would choose to confront a dozen dragons. Overconfidence would kill you. Why did the idiots think he’d assembled a small army to vanquish a single lizard?

  The fumarole appeared just wide enough for them to squeeze through with their bulky suits and weapons. Biggs motioned to the men in the car behind his, and they leaped out and drilled a ladder into the rock.

  “We’re here,” he relayed to Hicks. “How exposed will we be?”

  “You’ll come up behind a rocky knoll. From the ground, you shouldn’t be visible by line of sight. But, if there’s anything in the sky, you’ll be sitting ducks.”

  “Thanks for that.” Biggs twisted his mouth humorlessly. “I’m going up to check it out. Tell me if you spot anything.”

  “Roger.”

  He tested the ladder with a firm shake before stepping onto it, averting his gaze from the abyss. Hand over hand, he climbed until he could prairie-dog his head through the opening. Hicks had been correct about the knoll. Over the crest, in the distance, he spied just the top of a dome. The hill hid the bulk of the structure. Good. That meant they would be hidden, too.

  He scooted out of the hole and crept to the top of the knoll for a better view of what they’d be facing. He lay flat, thankful he’d had the foresight to switch from the bright-yellow haz suits the colonists had used to a flame-retardant mottled black and gray.

  The structure appeared to be an exact replica of the one he’d urinated in—except dragons did indeed surround this one. Between the pillars crouched a huge lizard. Another accurate report by Hicks. Why didn’t he trust him?

  Biggs watched for signs he might have been spotted and, when nothing happened, he expelled a relieved sigh. The knoll would provide cover for his men as they crawled out, but as soon as they climbed over the hill, they’d be visible. He would have two men set up the missile launcher back here and shoot down any dragons that took to the sky. The others would charge forward with blasters blazing to scare the dragons into the air.

  With the lizard guards distracted and dying, Biggs would enter the structure and kill the female.

  On his belly, he was scooting back down when a bugle curdled his blood. He grabbed his blaster and rolled over, expecting a dragon to swoop in, but saw empty voggy sky. He peered over the knoll and spotted a dragon landing near the structure. It released a man from its talons.

  Winslow. Biggs watched the man run up the steps, the dragons hopping out of the way to let him pass. Fucking traitor.

  But what a perfect opportunity to get rid of him. With one stone, he could kill two birds—a dragon and a dragon sympathizer.

  He wiggled until he was out of sight of the lizards guarding the building. “Can you hear me?” he said in a loud whisper through the mic.

  “We hear ya, boss.”

  “Come on out. It’s clear, but stay low. Let’s kill us some dragons.”

  * * * *

  Adjusting her ceremonial gown, L’yla rushed into the sanctuary and assumed her place in the circle.

  “I hope whatever delayed you was worth it.” O’ne’s level tone masked her immense relief at her arrival and covered up the searing pain. If she didn’t rebirth the sacred flame soon, it would release itself with disastrous results.

  “No excuses, priestess. Nothing should have delayed me from my duty,” L’yla said.

  She detected the faint odor of human on her. The male wasn’t the one who had desecrated the temple, but Prince T’mar would need to be alerted of the encounter. Whomever L’yla had consorted with might have knowledge of the perpetrator. But that was a task for later.

  L’yla’s yellow-green eyes lit with a zeal confirmed by her scent. “Nothing shall delay me again. All that I am I give in service.” How easily and honestly she made that vow.

  If only O’ne’s devotion ran as deep. She could dischar
ge her duties with precision but not passion. Her fyre would always belong to H’ry.

  Marshalling her willpower and concentration, she pushed him from her mind, blocked the sentience of the guardians, and focused on the roaring force inside her. With all twelve present, she repeated the spiral, ending up in the center. The acolytes closed in around her, forming a protective circle.

  Calling forth a tiny spark, she coaxed it to a blaze in her cupped hands. Raising the fire high, she chanted, “Oh, sacred flame, eternal giver and protector of life, we offer this fire that you may manifest anew.”

  Carrying the fire, she approached R’nay, who held out her oil burner. O’ne lit it, and R’nay raised it over her head. “Oh, sacred flame, eternal giver and protector of life, we offer this fire that you may manifest anew,” she repeated.

  Going around the circle, she lit the oil lamps. Upon reaching L’yla, her burner burst into flame before O’ne could touch it. She could command fire? O’ne reeled from the revelation then got hit by a greater shock.

  H’ry had entered the sanctuary.

  * * * *

  The donatta bugled and set down at the base of the steps and released H’ry. She shook her massive head, which he took as the question, was he sure he didn’t want her to stay?

  “Don’t wait for me. I don’t know how long I’ll be.” Intuition he hadn’t realized he possessed insisted he enter the temple alone. And, as a pragmatic matter, if he had no lift back to the palace, O’ne couldn’t easily dismiss him. “Thank you for your help.”

  The donatta bugled again and flew away.

  After a fortifying drag from his inhaler, Henry bounded up the steps. He had no idea how he would talk his way in. He’d been able to enter the temple on Draco, but a lot had happened since then, and O’ne had forbidden him to come. Perhaps she’d even left orders for the guardians to stop him. Had she guessed he would break his promise?

  “Temple go request I,” he said in broken Dragonish. The translator helped, but it couldn’t make him fluent.

  To his amazement, the guardian scooted aside a bit, and he entered into the narrow, curving promenade. No visible doors or windows interrupted the smooth, white monotony, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. Having gotten this far, he began to doubt his actions.

  O’ne didn’t want him here. She’d made it perfectly plain. What if he interrupted the rebirth at a critical juncture? What if his presence doused the flame?

  No, he had to believe that couldn’t happen, that he, a mere mortal human couldn’t have that kind of impact. More likely, O’ne would eject him from the temple. What excuse would he give for showing up? I was in the neighborhood and decided to drop in?

  On the balls of his feet, he crept through the promenade. He shouldn’t have promised to stay away. She shouldn’t have asked. Their mating ensured he would live at least as long as she did, which could be thousands of years, possibly an eternity—and he was expected to settle for a week? Not without a protest, he wouldn’t!

  He drew hope from having found an unlikely ally in the dragoness—she’d ordered J’leen to bring him here. Plus, the guardians had let him in. Those had to be positive omens, didn’t they?

  If there is no way we can be together, then I’ll let her go. But if a sliver of a chance exists, I’ll fight for it.

  The promenade completed a full rotation and emptied into the massive sanctuary. Twelve female demiformas formed a circle around O’ne who held fire in her bare hands. She moved to light an oil lamp, but before she could, it burst into flame.

  “Oh, sacred flame, eternal giver and protector of life, we offer this fire that you may manifest anew,” said the acolyte in Dragonish. O’ne didn’t acknowledge his presence. Neither did any of the others, but he got an immediate and strong sense his trespass was a huge violation.

  What had he been thinking to barge in on a sacred ceremony? No wonder the Draconians disliked humans. He could have waited until after the consecration and rebirth to see her. The Eternal Fyre meant life to millions, and he thought his relationship with the priestess was more important?

  Quietly he backed away.

  No! You must stay! The dragoness’s voice boomed into his head with such clarity and force, he almost fell over.

  I’m intruding.

  If you were not supposed to be here, you would not be here.

  Is O’ne aware you’re speaking to me?

  No. She believes as you do.

  Then, I can’t stay. Please tell the priestess I apologize for breaking my promise, and I will honor our agreement from this point forward.

  NO! the dragoness shouted at him.

  O’ne’s composure seemed to slip for a millisecond, but she recovered her poise and glided into the center of the circle.

  Oil lamps raised high, the women began to sway and chant. There were no comparable words in English for much of the Dragonish, but he did catch the words, rebirth, eternal, life, and something about sacrifice.

  With a single puff of her breath, O’ne blew out the fire in her hands and tipped her head back. She opened her mouth wide.

  RAWR! An explosive, percussive noise knocked Henry to his knees and threw the acolytes to the floor. Only O’ne remained standing. He scrambled to his feet only to fall again as another roar rocked the temple, followed by automatic gunfire—

  Upright, unmoving and expressionless, O’ne appeared to be in the grips of a trance, seemingly oblivious to the acolytes stamping out flames licking at the hems of their gowns. All across the floor, fires burned in little pools of spilled oil.

  A man in a camo hazmat suit burst into the sanctuary, shouting and waving a plasma blaster. “Get back, all of you! The first one of you lizards to shift gets his fucking head blown off.”

  Biggs’s free hand hovered over a grenade on his belt. If he detonated one, they were all dead. They’d have two-to-six seconds to kiss their asses goodbye before it exploded. He couldn’t be stupid enough to pull the pin while in the temple. Despite everything else, Biggs was no suicide bomber. He had to know he’d never make it out of the spiraling promenade before the grenade exploded.

  Of course, the plasma blasters were lethal enough. It wouldn’t do too much damage to a full dragon, but a direct hit would kill a demiforma dead. Kill them all.

  Henry cursed. He never went anywhere unarmed. Why had he allowed J’leen to talk him into leaving his weapons behind? He should have taken his chances with the guardians. He didn’t have anything as powerful as a plasma blaster or the flamethrower bandoliered across Biggs’s chest, but he at least would have had something if an opportunity arose to get a jump on him.

  “I said, get the fuck back!” Biggs shouted.

  “Do as he says,” Henry advised.

  “Listen to the traitor.”

  The acolytes retreated and formed a clump. Shit! Were they trying to make themselves a bigger target? A couple of shots would take out the whole group.

  “Get over there with them, asshole!” Biggs waved the blaster.

  He shuffled to give the appearance of compliance while trying to catch a glimpse of O’ne but couldn’t see through the group of acolytes. Holding his hands away from his body to seem unthreatening, he asked, “Why are you here, Jackson? What do you want?”

  “I came to kill a lizard. Didn’t know I’d get so lucky as to get a whole litter. Plus you.”

  O’ne… He couldn’t believe it would end this way. “Nobody here means you any harm. And you won’t get away with killing anybody. King K’rah and Prince T’mar will not rest until they hunt you down.”

  Another roar shook the temple. Henry thought he heard a man scream.

  Biggs flinched, and his pupils contracted to pinpoints. He pointed the weapon at Henry.

  Time froze. Blood rushed in his ears.

  “The son of my daughter, you have arrived at last.” O’ne pushed through the cluster of acolytes.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  H’ry, how I wish you’d stayed at the palace. O’ne quake
d with fear for her mate, but outwardly, she maintained composure. Had she not been expecting this moment? She’d seen not the time, but after Rhianna, she’d known more children would return. Fyre always led a dragon home.

  This one had come home to kill. Hatred had reduced his fyre to a smolder. She could smell that he was the one who’d desecrated the other temple.

  She’d prayed for her children to return, and, once again, a prayer granted became a curse rather than a blessing. Her son, a descendant of the daughter she’d left behind, reeking of malice, threatened her mate.

  Her dragoness roared, ready to engulf him in a fireball.

  Do not shift, she ordered her dragoness and the acolytes. L’yla teetered on the verge. At a hint of a shift, the son called Biggs would begin shooting.

  He means to kill our mate! the dragoness growled.

  Let me handle this. She alone had to do this. Her prayers, hopes, and actions had converged in this moment. To save her mate and the Eternal Fyre, she would have to kill her child.

  Unworthy.

  Could she even expel a fireball without prematurely releasing the sacred flame? The Eternal Fyre raged, a flaming vortex, seeking rebirth, but the odor of Biggs’s malice and hatred had to be cleansed from the temple first. If the Eternal Fyre were released without a pure host, it could flame out and die.

  She focused on her son. Through his transparent face shield, his blue eyes were cold, hard, dead. He smelled of hatred and sickliness. He’d poisoned his own fyre, but it had been strong enough to bring him home. Perhaps there was still a spark that would respond. “Your fyre has brought you here. Can you not feel it? The burning inside you? My son, you are part dragon—”

  “You first.” He aimed the weapon at her face.

  Flames shot from her eyes, her ears, her mouth, and nose. She cried out as the Eternal Fyre shot bolts of lightning from her body. She convulsed, limbs flailing, her head snapping back, her mouth falling open. Writhing in agony, she remained conscious, her body no longer under her command.

  “What the fuck?” Biggs swore.