But it was Thorne. And she did love him. She loved his strength and his sense of humor. She loved the way he held her, made love to her, respected her, believed in her.
She loved the way he made her feel safe and cared for. She loved taking care of him.
She loved his dragon. She even loved his grumpiness.
So what was holding her back?
Fear. Fear of being trapped. No exit strategy. No Plan B. Forever.
And forever was a long time, to a dragon.
But he was dying. And if Thorne died, she’d lose something precious and irreplaceable.
There was really only one choice.
“I’ll do it,” she said.
The minute she said the words, the world changed around her. She was in a huge cavern, bigger than the Batcave, surrounded by dark creatures whose wings rustled in the shadowy darkness.
Horses, she realized. Winged black horses, with long sinuous necks and dragon heads. Their eyes, like Thorne’s but silver instead of blue, glowed all around her.
There had to be at least a dozen. Maybe more. And though they weren’t threatening in any way, she sensed immense power surrounding her.
A voice came out of the darkness, into her mind. You are standing before the Council of the Ki-rin, it said. What are you prepared to sacrifice?
Chapter 45
Rebel looked around the cavern. It was deep in shadow, so she saw mostly the gleam of eyes and dark shapes. She felt small and alone, and she didn’t know what to say.
But something told her that honesty was the only thing she had here. So maybe lies and deflection were the first thing she had to sacrifice.
“I don’t know,” she said. “All I know is that there is a very brave dragon waiting for me, and a very brave man. They’re two halves of the same whole—a shifter who’s been separated from himself.”
And you would heal him? Make him whole?
“If I can.”
Do you love him?
“I care about him.”
Do you love him?
Honesty. She bit her lips, then blurted, “Yes. I love him.”
What are you willing to do for him?
“Whatever I can.”
What you can do may differ from what you are willing to do.
There was a long silence, filled only with the rustle of wings.
We ask again, what are you willing to do for him?
Voices came from all over the cavern.
Will you stay with him forever? Will you love him and cherish him? Will you give him your heart? Will you surrender your soul?
For what? she asked silently.
For love.
For love.
For love.
Only love will save them.
Only love will heal them.
Rebel felt like the voices were beating her into the ground. Taking pieces of her, more and more and more. She just wanted to run, leave behind their expectations and their judgements, because she could never give enough.
Everyone would always leave.
The first voice spoke again.
Rebel Wilder. You have been running all your life.
“Do you blame me?” she shouted. “Do you know what I’ve been through? No one was ever there for me. I did the best I could.”
This is not about what you have done. You have done well. This is about what you will promise to do.
The voices started again.
Promise to love
Promise to stay
They were all around her now, inside her head.
Promise to listen
Promise to tell the truth
Promise to care
This was for Thorne. For his dragon. Because she couldn’t bear to lose them.
Promise to comfort
Promise to open your heart
Finally she shouted, “I promise!” Tears were running down her face. “I’ll do anything. Just save Thorne.”
It is done.
Rebel felt a pulling, as though all the life was being sucked out of her. All her energy. All her love. All her hope. All her strength. All her will. She was left with nothing, an empty husk huddled on the cavern floor.
And then she heard one final voice.
Accept.
Receive.
And everything she’d lost came flooding back to her, twice as strong. Life and energy strength and hope.
And love. Her mind was filled with a thousand tiny moments, Thorne and his dragon. Smiling. Frowning. Bowling. Making love. Working at his computer. Flying. Loving her. She was inundated with all Thorne’s love. All his dragon’s love. Every moment of happiness she’d given them; every moment of hope.
It was two-way street. It always had been.
The bond wasn’t about being trapped. It was about loving so much, being loved so much, you never wanted to leave.
This was her chance. She reached out with both hands, and grabbed it.
Rebel felt her body dissolving, fading away like fog. There was a rush of wind, and she was being pulled through nothingness, trying to hold on to Thorne’s love, feeling him slip through her fingers.
She tried to call out to the dragon, follow me, but she didn’t know if he could hear. She was alone, and she felt bereft, as if half of her was missing.
Faintly, she heard someone saying, “Oh, fuck. They’re dead. How the hell—”
The wind carrying her blew faster, a roaring in her ears, and then she was back in her own body, in the abandoned house, lying next to Thorne.
All her senses seemed heightened. She could feel a presence next to her, heat and bulk, and she smelled warm leather and sweat, sulfur and a hint of decay.
The force field was gone. One of Corwyn’s minions was squatting next to her, his fingers on the pulse under her jawbone.
Rebel opened her eyes. “Not quite, fucker.”
His split second of shock was all she needed. Rebel jammed her elbow upwards underneath the guard’s jaw, snapping his head back. He lost his balance and fell backwards, and she followed up with a kick to the side of the head.
He went down, but there was another one just behind him. Rebel rolled to her feet and smacked him with a roundhouse kick, but he barely moved.
His eyes glowed orange red.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. A hellhound. He grinned at her and growled.
Rebel backed up, looking toward the door to the library—their exit. She knew she could never make it before the hellhound was on her. And Thorne was still on the ground. Had he been healed? Was his dragon back?
The hellhound advanced, growling.
Thorne! Rebel called silently.
And he opened his eyes. They were electric blue, with vertical pupils like black slits.
Dragon eyes.
Her bracelet turned warm on her wrist, and she heard the roaring in her ears again. The hellhound hesitated, cocking his head as if he heard the noise. Rebel whistled. “Here, boy!”
He turned to her and lunged. Rebel dodged, ducked her shoulder, and rolled toward Thorne.
The hellhound followed. Thorne rose to his knees, took a deep breath, and blew a stream of fire right into the hellhound’s face.
Chapter 46
The hellhound let out a bone-chilling howl, clutched at his burned face and stumbled back. The guard Rebel had disabled was beginning to stir.
Rebel grabbed a key off the guard’s belt and undid Thorne’s last shackle.
“Come on,” Thorne said, grabbing her hand. “The secret passage.”
They ran through the connecting rooms to the place where they’d come in. He felt no pain, and when he looked down he was shocked to see that his arm was completely healed. He could also feel his dragon returning.
What the hell had Rebel done while he was passed out?
He tried calling to his dragon, but he wasn’t at full strength, and he couldn’t shift. Not yet. He could hear pounding feet and the yelps of hellhounds in the hall.
They ran to the fireplace, and Rebel fo
und the catch and opened the passage. They slipped through the opening and let the bookcase close behind them. Through the wall, they heard the muffled sounds of boots and questioning voices.
“Where the hell did they go?”
“Check the window!”
“Did the damn dragon fly away?”
“I don’t see anything!”
Thorne grabbed Rebel’s arm. “What did you do?”
“Long story. Short version: went to the spirit world, talked to some Ki-rin, brought your dragon home. And, um. We’re mates now. For real. Sorry. ”
Sorry? It was the best news he’d ever gotten.
“Let’s get out of here,” Rebel said. “And fast, before they figure out there has to be another way out of that room and find the passage.”
“Okay,” Thorne said. “But this first.” He bent and gave her quick, hard kiss.
He saw her smile before starting down the stairs at a half-run. “Nice flames, by the way,” she added over her shoulder. “I take it the lizard is back?”
“He’s on his way,” Thorne said, resting his hand on her shoulder to keep them connected. He never wanted to let her go. “We need to buy him some time before I can Change and fly us out of here, though. Do you remember seeing any side passages we can defend, if we need more time?”
Rebel shook her head. “Not sure. But anyway, we need to get to the fish pond.”
“Why?”
“Because I think I know where the Seal is.”
For a second Thorne was stunned, but then it all made sense. The fish pond. The one place in this whole mausoleum the child Rebel had been drawn to, over and over.
The one place she’d remembered best.
And she’d realized it right after they’d bonded for real.
He snorted. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
They’d reached the bottom of the stairs and were making their way through the part of the tunnel that ran under the house.
“What?”
“Tyr and his damn fairy tale were right after all. The only way to find the Seal was for us to fall in love.”
There was a short silence, and his heart dropped, just for a second. Then Rebel said, “I’m good with that.” She reached up and squeezed his hand, making his heart rise again and fill with warmth.
Then she added, “After all, that makes me the princess of this fairy tale.”
Thorne gave a burst of surprised laughter. He squeezed her hand back. “I’m good with that.”
They were nearing the place where the passageway went through the foundation of the house and turned into the underground tunnel. Suddenly, behind them, Thorne heard the padding of heavy paws, followed by a furious snarl.
“Hellhounds,” he muttered.
“Fuck it all,” Rebel said. “They must have tracked us.”
Thorne stopped and turned. There was no way they could outrun a hellhound. They’d have to fight. The hellhound emerged out of the shadows, eyes glowing.
It was surrounded by a magical shield, a shimmering bubble of red.
Fuck it all twice.
Thorne blew fire—stronger and harder than he’d been able to do it before. The hellhound flinched back, but the fire was absorbed into the shield before it could do any damage.
A shield against dragonfire. Damn Corwyn and his Draken-proof spells.
Thorne flexed his fingers and his skin rippled blue, claws extending from his finger ends. His dragon was almost back. If he could only hold on until he could Change, they might still get away.
“Rebel!” he said. “Go on!”
She was right behind him. “Not without you!”
He shook his head. “It’s the Seal that’s important.”
Her voice was low and intense. “Not to me.”
The hellhound was stalking closer, about to strike. “I’ll be okay!” he said. “Go!”
He heard her swear, and then her retreating footsteps. The hellhound lunged, jaws snapping.
Thorne flung out his hand, casting a magical shockwave. It knocked the creature back, slamming it into the next one coming behind it.
The lead hellhound tried to scramble to its feet, and he did it again. He hoped to hell he could keep this up until his dragon caught up with him. “Come on,” he murmured. “You can do it. I need you.”
He could feel his dragon remapping his neural pathways, squeezing its essence back into his body.
Can you hurry this up? he asked.
Great. Thorne slammed his magic into the hellhound again.
From beyond the tumbled hellhounds came a magical missile, trailing black fire. He ducked just in time and it deflected off his shoulder, burning through his shirt and gouging a furrow through his skin, leaving it raw and blistered. It detonated against the wall, sending exploding rock scattering like shrapnel.
Instantly, he was bleeding from a dozen cuts.
Fucking sorcerer. He could just make out D’Amboise behind the hellhound. His hands were glowing red.
Come on, buddy, he said to his dragon, backing down the passage. Come on.
D’Amboise threw another missile. Thorne deflected it with a magical shield, and it hit the roof of the passage just where it transitioned to the underground tunnel.
There was an explosion of fiery stone, and the roof of the tunnel collapsed.
Rebel felt the passage shake and heard the crash of falling stone. Fear lanced through her heart. “Thorne!” she cried out.
For a moment there was nothing—and then she felt the faint sense of his presence. He was alive. She turned to go help him, and heard him speak in her mind. Get the Seal. It’s powerful. It defends and heals.
She pressed her lips together, sent one agonized look back towards the house, and then she ran.
The secret garden seemed impossibly still and quiet after the chaos inside. Dimly she could hear shouts and gunshots, but she couldn’t focus on them.
All her attention was held by the fish pond. She yearned toward it, as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered. Everything else seemed far away.
She looked into it, touching it with her fingers. The water was perfectly clear all the way to the bottom, where she could see the leaping dolphin mosaic, so similar to the picture on the bracelet Thorne’s dragon had made for her.
Plants waved softly, giving her a glimpse of the elusive silver fish. So clear…
Which made no sense, Rebel realized. This place had been abandoned for years. The water in the pond should be green and scummy, the bottom covered with silt.
The fish should have been dead long ago.
If it was a fish.
She stretched her hand out over the pond, palm down. “I am the Keeper of the Seal,” she said. “You belong to me!”
The silver fish leaped out of the water right into her hand. It wasn’t a fish at all, she realized, but a miniature dolphin.
And the minute she closed her fingers around it, it turned into a round silver disc, flat on the bottom and rounded on the top. She turned her hand over and saw the leaping dolphin embossed on the top.
She’d found the Seal.
“Very nice.”
The voice came from behind Rebel, startling her, and she whirled around. The gate in the wall was open, and standing inside the doorway was the last person she’d expected to see.
Mr. Johnson. And he was holding a gun.
Chapter 47
On the security monitors, Tempest could see Zane, Blaze and Tyr heading for the portal room, which gave them direct access to Vyrkos’ tomb. She saw sorcerers in there now, all anonymous in their long black hooded robes. With them came more and more hellhounds.
There couldn’t be that many. They must still be using illusion spells. She passed the information to Tyr.
Stay there, he said. Where you’ll be safe.
The moment he said it, she doubled over with cramps. She couldn’t stay here. Something bad was still ha
ppening—something she needed to fix. She grabbed her sketchbook and pens, and ran.
She headed first for the portal room, but that gave her another cramp. The other way, then. Somewhere she needed to be? No. Something she needed to do. No. Something she needed to get.
She headed for the armory, where the dragons kept their magical weapons. Zane had keyed the magical palm scanner to her and Blaze and Rebel, just in case.
This was the ‘in case.’
But the armory wasn’t right. Go on. Go on. She ran down the hall, anxiety clawing at her. Hurry. Hurry.
She passed the vault before she realized that was it. She skidded to a stop and went back, slamming her hand onto the scanner. The stone door slid open.
What’s here, what’s here, what’s here. The vault was full, shelves and shelves of artifacts, but there was something… something… there!
A golden statuette about four inches high, with an elongated face and a tall carved headdress. Its eyes were closed.
The idol that had belonged to Blaze’s coven. The idol Corwyn used to be trapped in.
She didn’t want to touch it. It was evil.
It’s not now, she told herself. He’s not in here. He’s out there, in Silas’s body.
Hurry. Hurry.
Steeling herself, she grabbed for the idol, and her hand bounced off an invisible wall. Strange runes glowed in the air.
Dammit. Damn over-cautious dragons. First the vault, now magical protection runes.
Her stomach cramped again. She had to get that idol. She had to get it now.
Only the idol would fix this.
Think. Dragons. Dragon runes. She wished she was a dragon, and could just make the damn runes do what she said.
Do what she said. Back in St. Johns, the first time she’d met the dragons—when Thorne came after Rebel—she made them do what she said.
She’d been frightened. And angry. Mostly angry, because she thought Thorne was going to hurt Rebel. They were all fighting, and she’d marched right out there and told him to stop, told them all to stop. She’d felt so powerful, like a goddess, and everything glowed around her.
And they did stop. Just like she said.
She called on her anger and her fear. She needed this idol. Glaring at the dragon runes, she demanded, “Give me this idol! Let it go!”
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