by Bianca D’Arc
“Strange weather pattern forming above,” he noted, gesturing skyward. He thought he knew what the gathering storm meant, but he didn’t say anything just yet. He knew he would feel it the moment magical energy began to fly and then…so would he.
Syd grew more anxious the closer they got to the mountains. As she drove, she began to see things. It wasn’t a full-fledged vision, or she’d have been in trouble since she was behind the wheel, but she saw events—future events, she somehow knew—overlay the view of the road in front of her.
She watched as events played out. Arthur was surrounded by people. She recognized some of them from those who had been in her house, planting bugs and cameras. Bad guys. But there was one… Someone new. Someone powerful. Someone the rest deferred to, as if he was in charge.
That man faced Arthur, and then, bright light flared and blocked out her view. The vision ended, and she knew they had little time.
“Darnit,” she muttered as her vision cleared.
“What?” Paul was attentive, though he had shown he was willing to let her lead this posse, which she appreciated.
“Arthur is going to be surrounded by people. I recognized some of them from the house, but there’s a new guy. A leader. Someone who can lob brightly pulsing balls of energy.” She reached for words to describe what she’d seen but found it hard. “I don’t know how to explain it. It looked really dangerous, and they were all focused on Arthur. I’m worried.”
She said nothing more as she navigated the off-ramp that led to the small road that corkscrewed up the mountain. About halfway up, hidden by the curvature of the mountain itself, was the outcropping on which Arthur’s house stood.
“Stop the car.”
“What?” She looked over at Paul, shocked by the order in his voice.
“I feel the magic gathering,” he told her. She felt the tingling energy in the air, too, but wasn’t altogether sure what it was. Paul seemed certain. “I can get to your friend faster than the car. I’ll go help him.”
“How?” she asked, even as she stopped the car in the middle of the empty road. Even in the middle of the day, this road was seldom traveled.
Paul got out and stepped back away from the car, even as he held her gaze. “I can fly,” he told her calmly before his form was engulfed by darkly sparkling energy. A moment later, an honest-to-goodness dragon stood in the middle of the road.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, her mouth agape. Paul seemed to grin a split second before he launched himself skyward, shooting like a rocket upward into the darkening clouds.
She got the car going again, her hands trembling the tiniest bit. She’d seen some weird shit lately, but that had been in visions—not reality. Now, her visions were coming true, and she didn’t know if she was ready for it to be real.
Whether she was ready or not, though, things were happening, and people were in danger. She had to get to Arthur. She knew Paul would do his best to help protect her friend, but she also—somehow—knew that she had to be there. She didn’t know why or what she could do to help, but she knew, in her heart of hearts, that she had to be present.
Maybe Paul’s presence would stall things long enough for her to get there. Heaven knew, a dragon had to give any sane person pause. Of course, that was relying on the sanity of bad guys who served some sort of evil super-being. Who said they were sane?
Chapter Ten
Paul flew through the clouds, feeling the malevolent magic gathering. He knew where Arthur’s house was thanks to his previous flight in the area, but the house was hidden from the road by the shape of the mountain, which was a bit craggy. Whatever was going on at Arthur’s wouldn’t be seen except from someone higher up the mountain—if there were any people up there—or from the air. From below, even a magical light show wouldn’t be seen by the casual observer.
And with the thick covering of dark clouds, the camouflage was even better. These were no ordinary clouds. Paul could feel them pulling at his wings, trying to ground him. They pulsed with evil, the whispers of angry chanting and hastily cast repulsion spells bounced off his slick hide. Whoever was up there casting, they were no match for a dragon.
He hoped that continued to be the case, but he wouldn’t know until he got up there. It took longer than it should have because of the magical fog that tried to delay him, but eventually, he broke through to the area he’d seen from above where Arthur lived. He set down on the edge of the flat area in front of the main house. It looked like that was the center of the action.
Paul took in the scene quickly. An old Native American man was standing in the center of a ring of people who were chanting. It was they who had called the dark fog, but it wasn’t getting anywhere near the old man. Rather, he seemed to be repelling it with no effort at all, which was why it was spilling down the side of the mountain.
Behind the ring of people—some of whom Paul recognized as having been part of the group in Syd’s house—was vehicle, just pulling up. At the wheel, was the leader of the group that had tried to bug Syd’s home. He got out and ran around to the back-passenger-side door of the big car that had tinted windows and every luxury add-on. He opened the door, and another man stepped out.
This was the power, Paul realized. The real mage had arrived. The minions had just been sent ahead to occupy the old man until the big gun could get here. It looked like Paul had arrived just in time. And, thanks to the dark fog, nobody seemed to realize he was even there yet. His dark scales blended well with the dark smoky fog. They didn’t see him, but that would all change the moment he stepped closer. Then, he thought, things would really start happening.
Syd pushed her little car as fast as she dared up the winding two-lane road that led to Arthur’s. She saw the roiling black mist sliding down the mountain, and it sickened her. There was something really wrong there. Something…evil.
But she didn’t know what she could do to fix it. Her best bet was to get up to Arthur’s and see if she could help him directly. Maybe he’d know what to do about the oily black smoke oozing down the mountain. Arthur knew all sorts of things. She’d bet he’d know what to do about that, too.
Paul was up there, too, by now. She worried about him. She’d only known him a short time, but so much had happened during those precious hours. He’d become special to her. A lifeline in a turbulent time…and so much more. She wondered if he was in her life to stay or just passing through. He said some things, sometimes, that made her start to believe that maybe he was thinking about the future. A future with her.
Every moment she was with him, everything just felt so right. From the way he’d helped her to his tender lovemaking. He’d been alternately gentle and demanding with her, and she’d loved every minute of it. He’d given her what she needed, when she needed it, almost as if he could read her mind when they were in bed together. That was something she’d never experienced before, and she wanted more of it. More of him. Forever, if he’d let her.
Like so many things lately, she wasn’t sure how she knew being with Paul was the right thing. She just knew it was. She also knew she would welcome him into her life—into her bed—for as long as he wanted to be there. She only prayed he wanted to stay forever.
They’d only spent one night together, and in the normal way of things, it was probably way too soon to be thinking about sharing their lives forever, but that’s where her mind had gone all day. She couldn’t seem to help herself. When she’d been trying to focus on the work she loved, instead, she’d been daydreaming of what it would be like to be married to Paul, to spend the rest of her days with him and have babies that looked like miniature versions of him and her. She’d been sort of giddy all morning…until the showdown with Elliot had changed everything.
Paul had been there when she’d needed him again. Her knight in invisible armor, leaping to her rescue yet again. He hadn’t fought her battle this time, but he’d definitely helped her in the aftermath. She wasn’t entirely sure she could’ve handled the emotional fallout from
what she’d done without him.
She still wasn’t sure she was okay with what had happened to Elliot, but some new instinct inside her was almost purring with satisfaction. She wasn’t sure she liked that response. She abhorred violence and especially killing, but she also despised evil, and the fight with Elliot had really been self-defense, when it came down to it. She didn’t see, now, how it could have turned out any other way, and she was trying hard to accept the new feelings that the encounter had awoken.
There was satisfaction, yes…but above all, there was a new feeling of justice having been served. Somehow, she knew deep inside, that she’d been the instrument of justice. It was a deep knowing. A certainty. Though, again, where it had come from, she had no idea.
Her thoughts were scattered as she raced up the side of the mountain as fast as she dared. A million thoughts jumbled together, running through her mind as she rounded curve after curve, zigzagging her way up the side of the craggy mountain as dark mist descended. Luckily, the darkness was concentrated on the side of the mountain, away from the road, but that was also a problem, because that’s where Arthur’s house was located. Whatever that evil-feeling darkness was, it was coming from Arthur’s.
Syd prayed as she pushed her car nearer and nearer, taking the curvy road as fast as she dared, but it was still too far. Whatever was going on up there, she hoped Arthur—and now Paul—could hold on a little longer. She had no idea what she could do to help, but there was that knowing again, that said she could definitely do something. She’d turned Elliot to ash, after all. Perhaps she could harness that energy again and help stop the bad guys who were threatening her friend.
He was just an old man. What had he ever done to deserve this? Syd felt intense guilt over the idea that these bastards were harassing Arthur because she had befriended him. If she was the cause of all this bother, she would feel even worse than she did already. She had to apologize to Arthur—if they all lived through whatever was going on up there.
As the sorcerer stepped out of the showy car, he began to wave his hands around in the air. Paul watched from the shadows. He’d pick his time to appear. For now, he wanted to see what he might be up against. The old man looked to be holding his own easily, in no danger from the B team the Venifucus had sent ahead to harry the old fellow.
Paul wasn’t impressed by the show the mage was putting on. All that flailing about with his arms might look dramatic, but it was really a waste of energy. The really strong mages didn’t need to make all that fuss to get things done. That led Paul to believe that, while the enemy might be powerful, he wasn’t among the elite the Venifucus had in their number. Probably someone trying to work his way up the ladder of evil. Well, his journey to the top of that particular dastardly brotherhood was about to come to an abrupt end if Paul had anything to say about it.
It was as the sorcerer began to gather his dark power that Paul first scented blood. That changed things. The man who had arrived in the swanky car was a blood path mage. Evil incarnate, as far as Paul was concerned.
Those who followed the blood path took their power by force from those they preyed upon. The ultimate rush for them was killing, but they were also known to capture and imprison those whose power was just starting to emerge. Like Syd. This bastard was probably in town because of her. Lured here by the promise of a young power to dominate, incarcerate, and bleed off little by little through use of torture and agony.
Syd would not suffer that fate, Paul vowed. Nor would any other innocent suffer it at the hands of this blood path mage. His reign of infamy would end here. Today.
As Paul gathered himself to step forward, out of the shadows, something happened. The old man at the center of the circle began to glow bright with the power that was his to command. Paul hadn’t really expected much, not knowing Arthur personally, but Syd had said the old guy was a retired shaman. Paul had known, from the moment Syd had said those words, that there was something a little off about the claim of retirement.
Shaman didn’t just retire. Holy men and women remained true to their calling all their lives, and a little thing like old age seldom slowed them down. Paul had been impressed by Arthur’s abilities to this point, but what he saw now made him hold back from revealing his presence. He’d be better off as the ace in the hole. Arthur wasn’t doing too badly at the moment, and Paul wanted to see how it would play out.
The instant Arthur got in trouble, however, Paul would break cover and go to his aid. He wasn’t interested in seeing Syd’s friend hurt.
At that moment, the old shaman seemed to look directly into Paul’s eyes before the glow about his person intensified. Arthur knew Paul was there. Paul didn’t question how he knew that, but he did. Just as he knew the kind of power Arthur had at his command.
It was a familiar power. A power laced with the taste of the Mother of All. The Lady of Light. The Goddess Paul served. As did Arthur, apparently.
As Paul watched, Arthur’s image was superimposed by a glowing outline of translucent ceremonial garb. This was the shaman in all his glory, robed and beaded and feathered, dressed in the tools of his trade.
In a split second, Paul realized what he was seeing. It was a spectacle he’d seen only once before, many thousands of miles away from here, under very different circumstances, but Paul readily recognized a being who had pledged his life to the Goddess. Regardless of the lack of traditional armor, Paul knew Arthur was a Knight of the Light. A warrior pledged to fight on the side of Light against evil wherever and whenever he encountered it.
He was, indeed, a holy man. More than that, he was a blessed man. For only rare beings were chosen by Her to serve Her in this fashion. That Syd’s friend was a Knight was surprising, but Paul supposed he should have expected something like this. It was clear Syd’s path had been guided…guarded…by those who wanted to see her develop into the warrior for Light he knew she could be. It all seemed so clear now.
As the sorcerer began to gather power, Arthur began a chant in his Native tongue. The forces of Light and dark began to swirl around the circle formed by the Venifucus stooges. There were a lot of them and only one old man—albeit a Knight of the Light—to fight against them. Paul stepped out of the dissipating fog and into the clear area.
And then, there were two to face the Venifucus gang.
Syd rounded the last bend and then took the turn-off that was Arthur’s driveway. It was a dirt road, well, sort of a stone road, that snaked around the side of the mountain, into the crag that hid Arthur’s home from view of the main road. Syd had to slow down because the road was narrow and winding, but her anxiety was at an all-time high. What was going on? Was Arthur okay? Was Paul okay? She almost dreaded what she might find around the next bend.
And then, she saw a glowing light burning away that sickly dark fog that had been dripping down the mountain. It was daytime. The darkness was unnatural. Even she—unversed in the ways of magic—had seen that.
But something was fighting back now, dissipating the scary darkness. She took that to be a good sign as she rounded the last bend. She saw Arthur’s little house, perched on the side of the mountain, with the big space in back that was a flattened section of the outcrop that then dropped off the side of the mountain. There was a fancy car parked in her way, so Syd stopped her own car in the middle of the driveway. They’d blocked her, so she didn’t feel any guilt over blocking them in return.
Besides, nobody she knew had money for a car like that, except maybe Howard, who owned the nursery. But he wasn’t a frivolous guy. He’d rather have a handy new pickup truck than a car that was just for show and couldn’t carry a load. She marveled that the expensive machine had even made it up Arthur’s dirt road in the first place.
Looking beyond the annoying car, Syd noted the gathering in the flat area adjacent to Arthur’s home. Paul—in dragon form—was there, as was Arthur. Even as she watched, half of the circle of people who had been surrounding Arthur broke away and went to face Paul. He was on the far side o
f the clearing, near where the mountain dropped off down the slope. He must have landed there.
Syd just shook her head at the idea that she was looking at a real, live dragon. If she hadn’t seen Paul shapeshift right in front of her eyes, she wouldn’t have believed it possible, but there he was, a dark, midnight blue dragon, facing a half dozen jerks who were chanting some nonsensical gibberish that Syd didn’t like. What little she could hear of it sounded mean spirited. Evil, even.
Her gaze tracked to Arthur, standing tall and firm against a man in an expensive suit who was waving his arms like some kind of circus performer. Ignoring that weirdness for now, she noted the man who had bashed her over the head standing to the other guy’s right. How dare he show his face here? She had a bone to pick with that asshole, and she was just in the mood to punch him in the face.
Flanking them were four more people, chanting like the others, and watching the arm-waving guy for instructions—or so it appeared to Syd. She thought she recognized some of the faces of the chanters as people who’d been part of the team that had raided her house, and her anger grew. How dare they?
“You know you cannot win, shaman,” the arm-waver shouted, everything stalling out for a few minutes. The chanters stopped chanting, and everyone waited to see what was going to happen now that the head guy had started talking.
“You attack me on my home territory,” Arthur said quietly, with ancient dignity. “It is you who cannot win. Not here. Not now. Not ever.”
“What if I appealed to your ally?” The nattily dressed man turned his conniving gaze to Paul. “Oh, dragon,” he singsonged, “what if I could give you your heart’s desire?”
