Smolder (Clan of Dragons Book 3)

by Nancy Lee Badger

  “Unna, I brought Fiona back. Since you can use the help, I suggest you make her return to work.”

  Unna glanced at Fiona, who was talking to Blackie. Unna spun on her heel to fetch his drink and talk to Fiona.

  Dougal turned back to a grinning Orin, who gestured toward Fiona. “Where was it you found the lass? She smells delicious, as if she recently bathed in the fairy pool. I recall the scent.”

  “I need to speak to me brothers,” Dougal said, evading the lad’s question.

  “Before you drink your ale?”

  “Save it for me.” He stood, glanced at Fiona, and made his way to the stairs. The lass was deep in conversation with Unna and Blackie. What they would do the rest of the day and into the night, was no concern of his. Grady was gone and Toal had not shown his face since yesterday. The pirates were of great concern, but he needed to know how Vika fared. Orin did not realize the danger Vika was in, and talking to Evan was his best chance to learn of her condition.

  He felt guilty for leaving his family to follow Fiona, and an urgency pushed him to take the stairs two at a time. Something was wrong.

  ***

  Fiona suspected something was wrong. Why else would Dougal race up the stairs? His receding back made concern burn in her belly. He was worried for his family, yet had followed her outside the village’s walls.

  “He be worried without cause, and shall return to your side, soon enough.”

  Whipping her head around, she gazed into green eyes in a face, so similar to Dougal’s, her breath caught. “I do not understand your meaning, sir.”

  “Aye, the lass was having a private conversation with us,” said Unna.

  “Unna, do not be cussing me customers. Go deliver that ale to Orin’s table,” Blackie said.

  The man smiled at the tavern owner. “Might I get a dram of your finest whisky?”

  Blackie nodded and headed to the kitchen.

  He’d left her alone with a handsome man who was very similar to Dougal, in stature and build. His eyes were green as grass, and his wavy golden hair was long, but not as long as Dougal’s. Why was she comparing every man with that ornery dragon?

  Fiona stamped her foot, only to realize that human feet were not as sturdy as hooves.

  “Lass, you remember me? Wynn? Dougal’s brother?”

  “Aye, I recall. Sir, have you just come from Vika’s side?”

  “Nay. She be resting. The bairn will come into the world once he be ready.” He leaned an elbow on the counter, leaning closer.

  “He?” Fiona searched his face, wondering why he and Dougal, and even the other brother, were nearly identical. When the handsome fair-haired male smiled, showing straight white teeth, the image of fangs erupting from Dougal’s mouth made her draw in a shaky breath.

  If Dougal be a dragon, then Wynn…

  Fiona opened her senses, taking in the scents and sounds, searching for danger or something out of the ordinary. Her eyes flew open.

  Ordinary? I be standing beside a shifter amid a tavern filling with humans.

  Wynn’s eyebrows rose, and his gaze locked on Fiona’s face, as if waiting an explanation.

  “I must return to work, Wynn. If you will excuse me?”

  “A moment, lass. I sense Dougal has come to feel something for you. ‘Tis the only reason I can fathom for him disappearing last night, when he vowed to guard his family.”

  Fiona lowered her gaze, and her cheeks burned. His family could have faced danger while she and Dougal made love beneath a waterfall. But, she had saved the beast’s life, first. She raised her eyes and straightened her shoulders. “Oh? I hadn’t realized you kept him on a leash.”

  Wynn’s eyes widened, and he smirked. “No one keeps Dougal tied down, though he nearly turned into a homebody under Cliona’s tutelage.”

  He turned to walk away, and she grabbed his arm.

  “Cliona? Be this Cliona that runs as a red doe?” she whispered, not wishing anyone else to overhear her.

  “You knew Cliona?”

  “She be me best friend, and I have searched for her all winter.”

  Sorrow filled his face, and he glanced at his boots. A sense of dread clogged her throat. Here was someone who knew Cliona, but why did he speak of her in the past tense?

  “The Cliona I knew, a woman you favor, be a dragon whose favorite pastime was shifting into a red doe, and traipsing through the woods. She carried a babe.”

  “Dougal’s?” She swallowed, suddenly aware her heart thudded in her chest, and her human palms had gone clammy.

  Wynn raised his gaze to her face, and shared a slight smile. “So Dougal claimed, though I fear she had many lovers.”

  Could Cliona’s babe be Grady’s? Fiona wondered.

  “Even so, she was our hope for a new generation, but died too soon.”

  “She…died?” Fiona’s question caught in her throat, and her heart clenched with a sudden sadness.

  He nodded. “Dougal was devastated. Losing a mate was bad enough, but to have his progeny die with her…

  Fiona, momentarily frozen, shook off the shock, and managed to explain. “She be the only human female I had ever met, ‘tis why I look like her.”

  He nodded again, and her sorrow mirrored the sadness in his eyes. She could only watch as Wynn walked away, and sat at a table with the redheaded brother of Vika. The lad was watching her, but she didn’t try to wonder why.

  Wynn’s words made pain wash over her. The idea of Dougal mated to someone else, hurt more than learning her friend was dead.

  “Shall you help me serve those tables, or not?” Unna said, and Fiona jumped.

  “Aye, help me with me hair and I’ll find an apron. I apologize, but a friend was hurt…”

  “I saw your friend. Not too bad on the eyes, but he ran up those stairs as if a bee had stung him on the arse.”

  “Dougal? He be worried about his brother’s wife.”

  “I suppose, yet you two were gone all night.” Unna wiggled her brown eyebrows at her, as she helped Fiona tie her long hair into a simple plait.

  The young human was incorrigible, but Unna needed Fiona’s help. “Do you suppose there be a place for me to sleep tonight?”

  “Where did you sleep last night?”

  “Never you mind. Have you heard that pirates might be traveling toward the village?”

  “Aye, the elders plan to double the guard, and the blacksmith has sold out of weapons. Gow be working on making more. Come to think of it, I shall send you to the smithy’s shop with food and drink.” She turned on her heel, and strode into the kitchen.

  “Perfect.” All she needed was another go-around with a human male’s roaming hands, while her heart broke. Her friend was dead, and the dragon Fiona loved, had loved Cliona. Was that why he kissed her, because she resembled his mate?

  “I do not deserve to be second best. Cliona taught me that.” Forcing back tears, she grabbed an apron, and hurried to help Unna collect trays from the kitchen. Work might keep her mind off Cliona, Dougal, and the mess her life had turned into.

  CHAPTER 15

  “What a mess.” At the top of the stairs, Dougal paused and used his dragon hearing to listen in on Fiona’s conversation with Wynn. The sad truth was that he was happy Wynn had divulged everything, and Fiona knew the truth about Cliona’s fate. Her voice had broken, but he wasn’t sure why. Was she sad for him, or upset he’d had a mate?

  “The best thing I should do be to leave her alone, and let her think.” He would speak with her later, after she had time to digest the news. He wished to check on Vika’s condition, and knocked on her door. Evan pulled the door open, and smiled at him.

  “How be the little human?”

  “Me mate be a warrior, and enduring the pain of birthing a babe.”

  “Liar!” Vika cried.

  Dougal pushed past his brother, and stopped beside the bed. Propped up with pillows, Vika’s damp forehead and pale skin attested to her pain, but she looked beautiful. “Do you plan to fin
ish this soon, or shall I have me brother fly you home?”

  Vika’s eyes widened as she glanced behind him, and the hairs on the back of Dougal’s human neck stood on end. A soft cough drew his attention to a shadow-filled corner. Blackie’s mate, the healer, pushed up off a chair, smoothing her gray hair from her face.

  “I hope answers be forthcoming, sir, as me senses be reeling.” The healer walked to the bed and stood beside Dougal. Closing the door, Evan walked around to the opposite side of the bed, leaned over, and kissed Vika’s nose. She smiled, then grimaced, while her body contorted. When she opened her mouth in a silent scream, Dougal gripped the bedpost with talons.

  The healer pulled his talons from the wood, and patted his knuckles. “Things be clearer, and I pray you shall take me into your confidence…dragon?” She stared up at Dougal, as if waiting for him to spill all, but his brother intervened.

  “Dougal, I feel we must share our secrets with this human. How else can she assist Vika to birth this babe?”

  He exhaled a deep breath, and tiny cinders floated toward the bed.

  “Might we talk away from the lass?” the healer asked, as she waved a piece of linen, forcing the smoldering bits of fire away from her patient.

  Evan’s gaze bore into Dougal’s eyes, and he nodded. Vika had collapsed back into the bedding, and looked peaceful. Her belly moved beneath the blankets, and he couldn’t help placing a palm on her abdomen. His talons had retracted, and an image of Fiona, great with his babe, shocked him into stepping away. He joined Evan and the healer near the door.

  “You handsome beasts be in no danger from me. Me name be Nynia which means spritely, and sprites be another name for the fairies. I have visions, and other senses that guide me as a healer. Blackie uses me gift to let him know of any trouble coming our way. ‘Tis how I was able to warn him about the pirates.”

  “The pirates might cause problems if the human guards cannot keep them out of the village.” Dougal turned to his brother. “Wynn and I cleared the outlying farms, forcing stragglers into the safety of the village.”

  The healer, Nynia, chuckled. “That must be why young Isobel arrived in such a state. She lives alone on a farm outside the village walls, and told a tale about a white doe stealing her clothing, and a white wolf chasing her nearly to the gates. May I assume you and your kin had something to do with her stories, and for forcing her into the village?”

  Dougal smiled. “The lass be pretty, and we did not wish the pirates to find her.”

  “Me thanks. She be a sweet lass, and claims Gow as kin. Gow offered her the use of his sister’s cottage, while his sister was away visiting kin in the Highlands. Poor Isobel arrived with only the clothes on her back, and I had to find more clothing for her. Back to the subject I mentioned earlier to dear Evan, I be worried about his wife. She feared the babe will arrive too early, but has stalled. What more can you lads tell me, as I feel me fairy heritage be sensing something…otherworldly.”

  “Please tell her. I trust her,” Vika croaked.

  Evan’s shoulders lifted, and fell, and he nodded to his mate. “Nynia, your senses be accurate. We be dragons, from the Black Cuillin Hills, with the ability to shift into other forms. I met Vika when I shifted into a copper-colored horse, and she saved me life.”

  The woman’s mouth gaped, and she slapped a hand to her ample bosom. “Spark?”

  He nodded, blushing.

  She turned to Dougal. “And you?”

  “I enjoy shifting into a red stag.” He didn’t mention that he knew the identity of the white-furred thief of Isobel’s clothes.

  “What about your other brother, the golden-haired lad?” The excitement of meeting shifters made her face brighten, making her look younger.

  “Wynn enjoys shifting into a wolf, whenever the need comes upon him. A white wolf, actually.”

  “I see,” Nynia whispered, thinking. “I have known Vika since her birth, so she be human. However, she has married a dragon. So, be this offspring a human or a dragon?”

  Evan grumbled something Dougal could not quite hear. Worry lines furrowed his brother’s forehead. When he didn’t answer, Dougal caught the healer’s attention.

  “No one knows. ‘Tis the first time this has occurred. Female dragons be dying out, with no more on the island of Skye. We thought to experiment,” Dougal said, the words catching in his throat.

  “You experimented on dear Vika?”

  “I love her!”

  Dougal and the healer stepped back at Evan’s outburst. Vika moaned, prompting Evan to join her on the bed, soothing her with soft words and gentle touches.

  The healer turned to Dougal. “I be glad for such a declaration, but me concern still be with Vika and her bairn. If no union between your species has, as yet, brought a babe into this world, we have our work cut out for us. I might need special herbs to ease her pain, and deliver this babe. Can you gather what I might need, if it requires you to leave the village?”

  “I will go anywhere, and gather anything for you, Nynia. What about the fairy pools?”

  The mention of the pools seemed to surprise her. “What of them?”

  “I was wounded mere hours ago, with an arrow.” He pointed to the barely discernible scar on his shoulder. “A dip in the pool healed me.”

  “Anything might help. Gather wineskins. I shall return to me chamber, and ask you to gather items within the hour.”

  He nodded, closing the door behind her. Worry over Vika and her bairn filled his thoughts. There was nothing he could do, until the healer told him what she needed. He walked over to his brother, beside his mate, watching her sleep. After he patted his shoulder, Dougal slipped out of their room.

  Kera met him in the hall. “How be Vika?”

  “Not good, but Mistress MacFingan shall administer herbs. I might need to gather water from one of the fairy pools near our caves. I can attest to the water’s healing properties.” He rubbed his shoulder, recalling how Fiona had forced him to shift, and coaxed him into the healing waters. An image of Grady, glaring at her naked human body, made him excuse himself.

  He trotted down the staircase in search of the woman who made him hope they might have a future.

  ***

  Her future seemed destined for heavy trays and boisterous customers. The men she passed leered, and she nipped at hands attempting to steal a tankard or bowl from her tray.

  “Keep your distance. These be for Gow the Blacksmith.”

  “Why him? Be he too good to join us for a drink?” a villager said.

  “Nay, he be busy constructing weapons to help you defend yourselves against the pirates.”

  Voices rose in panic, and she took advantage by escaping the tavern. Out in the late afternoon air, she headed toward the blacksmith shop. When she’d seen Gow yesterday, he hadn’t acted disagreeable, but she’d rather stay inside the tavern, closer to Dougal and his family. The hard truth was that she needed to earn a few coins, fill her belly, and find a place to lay her head tonight.

  Dougal blocked her path, with a half-smile on his human face, startling her. He wore his plaide low on his waist with a wide strip of leather. An extra length of wool looped over one shoulder, and a pair of boots protected his feet. Images of everything beneath the wool warmed her cheeks.

  “Where you off to, lass?”

  “The blacksmith’s shop. Unna sent me to feed Gow. He be making weapons.”

  Dougal nodded, and matched her steps. He winked at several young human females, and clasped his hands behind his back. When he began to whistle, she laughed. “How did you learn that? I be surprised you even know the humans’ language.”

  “Cliona taught me. We spent hours running through the forest, but many other hours making love.”

  “She died.”

  He lowered his head, and was silent for several steps. “True. I watched her die by a hunter’s well-placed arrow. I was not there to shove her out of its path. She died carrying a babe.”

  Fiona wondered why Do
ugal didn’t say his babe. Had he suspected Cliona’s unfaithfulness? Did making love with her make him love his dead mate less, or did he want Fiona because she reminded him of Cliona?

  “Help me!”

  Fiona bobbled the tray, while Dougal raced toward the blacksmith’s open door. Gow stumbled from the shop into his open arms, and Dougal laid him on his side, on the ground.

  “Gow? What has happened? Be that blood on your head?” Fiona set the tray on a barrel, grabbed the cloth protecting the food, and knelt beside him. Dabbing at the blood in his hair, she waited for the smithy to explain.

  “I was working on a sword. The moment I plunged it into the cooling bath, someone hit me from behind.”

  “Have you anything of value?” Dougal helped the blacksmith to his feet.

  “Nay, not but a few trinkets traded to me for me swords. I hid them well, I hope. I remember smelling something, before the pain threw me to me knees.”

  “What did you smell?” Dougal asked.

  “Salt and fish.”

  Fiona gasped. “Fairy wings! Sounds like a pirate! How would one get inside the village?”

  Neither man offered any ideas.

  Fiona needed to warn the villagers, but someone had to follow the attacker’s tracks. Dougal would know how to handle an attacker, since he’d said the only reason he had joined the others in the village was to guard them from danger, but he was the one strong enough to help get Gow to the tavern.

  Gow had not been killed, which was a blessing. Did the pirates have need of his abilities as a weapon maker? Human females had the most to fear, and she wanted no one in Morbhan to be hurt.

  “Dougal, can you help get him to the tavern? The tavern owner’s wife be a healer. Warn the others. I will follow the attacker’s scent.” Without waiting to see if Dougal would comply, Fiona entered the blacksmith shop.

  “Wait, lass. ‘Tisn’t safe.”

  “Do not treat me like a bairn. I can smell him. I will follow, not engage.” She did not spare a moment to listen for Dougal’s reply. Gow had been working by his furnace, and the coals glowed hot and bright. She investigated the barrel of water he’d mentioned, but the sword was missing. She’d heard he’d sold all his wares, and had missed last night’s festivities in order to make more. Had the pirate stolen all he’d finished? How could a pirate slip inside the village?