Celtic Dragons

by Dee Bridgnorth

  “You could say that.”

  “How much does she know?”

  “At this point?” Kean stared up at the textured ceiling, his sharp eyes tracing patterns in the dots there. “Basically everything.”

  “Has she seen it with her own eyes?”

  “Basically everything, yeah.” Kean winced slightly. “She rode here on my back. We’re at the hideaway.”

  Ronan sighed slightly. “At some point, you need to tell me what exactly you’ve been thinking, making all of these big decisions without even consulting us. Some people aren’t happy, you know.”

  “Eamon,” Kean said. “And Siobhan. I know.”

  “They have a right to how they feel.”

  “They do,” Kean agreed. “And I’ll make it right with them. There’s something about this woman though, Ronan. She’s inside of me.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be inside of her.”

  Kean snorted a laugh. “I set you up for that one. But I’m also serious. She’s different from anyone—no, really. Anyone—that I’ve ever met. And it’s not about sex, Ronan. I’ve had really great sex before. This is different. She’s so far inside of me that her emotions trigger my transition. I have to fight against it, and the first time, before I knew to expect that, I almost lost control of myself right there in the hotel room.”

  Ronan was quiet for a long moment. “I think that’s significant.”

  “You do?” Kean thought it was significant too, but he was shocked that it was so easy to convince Ronan of the same.

  “Yes. You know that we’re all in trouble if we don’t figure out a different solution to mating,” Ronan said. “And you know that I’ve been working on it ever since I took over as our clan leader. We have to adapt, or we’re going to die out. We have another generation or two to go, and then we’re going to be forced to face the fact that we can’t provide mates for our grandchildren.”

  Kean ran a hand through his hair, shifting around on the couch to get more comfortable. “Are you suggesting that it’s possible that we’ll mate with humans?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Ronan said. “But if our ancestors could spend generations adapting a curse to become the source of our power, then I’m not giving up on us just because we’re running out of people to breed. It’s not ending that way.”

  “If anyone can find the answer, it’s you,” Kean said, firmly believing it. “Ronan …the fact that you’re not coming after my ass, when you have every right to, and that you trust me—it’s huge. You’ve always been a good leader, but a great leader trusts the men and women around him. It means a lot.”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up,” Ronan said, but there was a smile in his voice. “Don’t get sappy on me. I could still nail your ass to the wall if I wanted to. And if you’re wrong about her, I will.”

  “I’m not wrong.”

  “Have you solved her case yet?”

  Kean sighed, glancing toward the door that separated him from Dhara. “No. Not even close. It just gets worse the more we learn. She grew up in India, under terrible conditions, and then someone there took pity on her and took her to a witch who put a spell on her to erase all of her memories and replace them with others—very generic ones—that were happier. Then they sent her here, where she started life over with this new idea of who she was and not even a hint that she had ever been anything but that. And in the years that have passed, the darkness still inside her has …become an entity of its own.”

  “A Disgorge.”

  “A what?”

  “A Disgorge,” Ronan repeated. “You haven’t come across one? It’s a powerful thing—not something you ever want to mess with. I read up on them a while back actually. They became a big problem about thirty years ago. Apparently, a few witches were capitalizing on the fact that people often get to a certain age and wish they could forget every bad thing that ever happened to them. They started doing these spells, erasing the memories and letting people start over. It was all fine and dandy, until they developed these spirits that would haunt them. They named them Disgorges after the concept of dissonance. Her mind knows two things to be true, and the dissonance that it creates feeds into the darkness until it becomes a power that can possess the person …or anywhere that they inhabit.”

  Kean was sitting up on the couch, fully alert. “It has a name. You know about it. Shit! Ronan—that’s amazing.”

  “Don’t get too excited. The people suffering from them usually die.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “I’m sorry,” Ronan said, his voice genuine. “But that’s what my research indicated. Because you can’t just exorcise it out of them. It’s not a separate spirit. It is literally their darkest thoughts, feelings, memories, and experiences all packaged into one evil spirit that is them. If you get rid of it, there’s not enough of them left to keep…living.”

  Kean stood up, pacing the room without even realizing he was doing it. “No. No, it’s not that simple, Ronan. It can’t be. I’m not just going to let her die because no one ever fixed this before. I love her. I am in love with her, and I’m not giving up on this. Tell me something I can use. Anything.”

  “I said they usually die,” Ronan said. “There are exceptions. But nobody knows how they lived through it. No one but them…I guess.”

  “Give me a name.”

  “Nicolette Herman,” Ronan said. “Hard to forget a name like that. She’s in the Santa Fe, New Mexico, area. Last I heard.”

  Kean stopped pacing. “I visited Leitheia today, and she said Santa Fe too. She said to talk to Percy Cross.”

  “Shit. Good luck with that.”

  “Could he have been the one who helped Nicolette?”

  “I don’t know,” Ronan said honestly. “But it wouldn’t surprise me. Percy…he’s a character. He can do just about anything, but he won’t make it easy on you. Take Dhara and go find Nicolette. Ask her what she did. I’d go to her before Percy.”

  Kean nodded. “Okay. That’s what I’m going to do.”

  “We’ll hold the fort down here,” Ronan said. “Just be careful, Kean. Don’t make giving away our secrets a habit, okay?”

  “I won’t,” Kean promised. “Ronan—”

  “Oh, don’t get sappy again,” Ronan said, cutting him off. “Just stay safe and fix your girl. It’d be a damn shame if she caused this much trouble and then didn’t get to see the aftermath.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Check in when you can.”

  The line went dead, and Kean lowered his phone, standing at the window that looked out over the three acres of land that accompanied the hideaway house. He was more grateful than he could have imagined to have the weight of telling Ronan off of his shoulders, but that relief was greatly mitigated by the fact that Dhara was afflicted with a spirit that most people didn’t survive.

  He wouldn’t let her be one of the ones who were killed by the dark weight of their own memories. She was more than that, and she deserved a chance at life after all they had learned today about her childhood.

  Besides, he needed her as much as he needed his next breath. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to make sure that she was safe, whole, and by his side. Whatever it took.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Dhara

  “We’re flying private?” Dhara said, standing in the kitchen with Kean the next morning, looking suspiciously at the two pieces of toast that had just come out from under the broiler of the oven. It was better than the spoiled eggs in the fridge, but she could have sworn she detected a bit of green around the edges of the bread before they put it in the oven. “Does that mean…you’re flying us?”

  “That’s right,” Kean said. “That’s the perk—one of the perks—of being a dragon. You don’t have to sit in economy airplane seats.”

  “But won’t that exhaust you?” she asked, poking one of the pieces of toast and carefully picking it up to take a small bite. “And shouldn’t you guys keep this fridge better
stocked?”

  He chuckled. “Uh, no to the first and probably to the second. Nothing exhausts me, Dhara.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nope.”

  “Not even…repeated…” she gestured a finger down to his crotch, circling it slowly in the air.

  “Not even.”

  Dhara felt the heat pool between her legs, and she bit into the bread to keep from taking a bite out of him. Despite everything that was between them, her attraction to him was so strong that it could easily overwhelm the rest. He had woken up this morning looking absolutely delicious with his mussed hair and the beard that framed his strong jaw, thicker, looking like it would feel incredible if she rubbed her cheek against it.

  He must have felt the same way, because he backed her up against the counter, his hands on her waist. “Are you trying to start something with me?” he murmured, nibbling along her jaw. “Because I wanted to start something all night.”

  She gasped, her head falling back as his mouth moved to her neck and the toast fell from her hands so she could grip his shoulders. In the time it took for her to draw in a sharp breath, he had his hands on her hips, lifting her onto the counter, his fingers hitching her dress up high on her thighs.

  Dhara moaned as he scraped his teeth against the nape of her neck at the same time that one hand cupped her breast. She reciprocated, grabbing his ass and yanking him against her, her legs wrapping around him to keep him close.

  “We can’t do this,” she said, even as she tugged his shirt over his head and began to kiss her way over his shoulders. “This is the worst possible idea.”

  “Then tell me to stop,” he said, picking her up off the counter and holding her off the ground with just the strength in one arm. The other hand was undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans, and Dhara said nothing at all to stop him, instead egging him on as her hips pistoned against his.

  When he filled her, she groaned in his ear, shuddering with need as her legs clenched more tightly around his waist. They moved together at a speed that Dhara was sure had to surpass human ability, but she closed her eyes and gave herself over to it, letting him lift her to heights higher than she had ever experienced, his groans echoing each of his thrusts.

  She fell over her peak without warning, the pleasure so fast and intense that it took her breath away. Calling out his name, she shattered around him, clutching his shoulders to keep herself from falling backward into the abyss she was sure must have opened up all around them. He thrust harder as she came, and his head bent down so that his mouth could fasten over her nipple, sucking hard. It sent her into another spiral, one that built right after the first began to diminish, and she didn’t even have a chance to open her eyes and reorient herself before she was falling all over again, this time taking him with her.

  He spilled inside of her, his thick, hard length pulsing deep within her as their sweat-slick bodies moved together, milking every last second of pleasure.

  And then they were gasping, leaning heavily against the counter as they tried to catch their breath. Exchanging soft kisses, they stroked each other down from their highs, and when Dhara looked up, she found Kean staring down at her, a look in his eyes that touched her heart.

  “I love you,” he said quietly. “You do believe that much, right?”

  “Yes,” she whispered back. “I know you do. I can feel it. I just don’t know if it’s enough.”

  “It will be,” he promised her, stroking her hair back from her face and kissing her lips with so much longing that she wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair, drawing out the moment.

  “I hope so,” she said, when they finally parted. “I want it to be.”

  Sliding his hands down her legs, he gently lowered her back to the ground, steadying her before he let go to pull his own pants back into place as she straightened her dress. “Are you done with breakfast? We need to get on the road—or into the sky, as it were.”

  “I’m starving,” Dhara said, grabbing the piece of toast still on the plate they had used to broil it and popping half of it into her mouth. “But this will work. Are you sure you don’t need to…recover?”

  He arched an eyebrow at her, smirking. “I’m positive.”

  She was about to retort with something witty, but he suddenly grew very serious and took her in his arms again, his mood completely changed.

  “What is it?” she asked, holding him tight, concerned.

  “You may hear some scary things when we get to Santa Fe,” he said in her ear. “But no matter what—I will make sure that you walk away from this whole, safe, and loved. I’m not going to let you die. I won’t.”

  Then, before she could respond, he picked her up in his arms, carried her outside, and handed her the bag that he had grabbed from the table by the doorway on the way out. Once she was holding the bag, he stepped back from her and transitioned, sweeping her onto his back and taking off into the sky.

  It all happened so quickly that Dhara could barely hold on before they were in the air, flying west at a speed that was faster than she could imagine. Kean’s huge body shielded her from the wind, but she didn’t dare to peek over the ridges of his back to find out what she could see below them. She didn’t know how longthey had to fly or what they were going to find when they got to where they were going, but she did trust Kean—more than anyone or anything. And as much as his fervent, whispered promises scared her, they comforted her too, because she knew that he would live up to them.

  With that comfort held close to her chest, she settled down against his scales, settling in for a flight that might take them hours and watching the clouds as they floated around her. She was so relaxed that when the visions hit her, they came out of nowhere, overtaking her body completely.

  There was fire and darkness all at once, then pain shot through her body that was no longer hers. Something else was in control of her, and it was full of rage and resentment—the call for vengeance so strong that it was like a vibrant color exploding behind her eyes. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel, couldn’t see. She was trapped in the confines of the curse that was buried deep within her, and there was no way to get out.

  Something flew at her face, and she couldn’t see what it was—only that it wanted to hurt her. Her arms flew up to shield herself, the first movement she’d initiated on her own since the darkness had descended. As much as she flailed her arms, she couldn’t keep the invisible demons from plaguing her. They poked at her, tore at her, burned her, taunted her. She screamed as loudly as she could, but it made no difference.

  All she could think about was getting them to leave her alone, and she leaped to her feet, her arms still thrashing. The ability to move almost shocked her, and she overcompensated, forgetting where she was as she turned to run as fast as she could in the other direction. There was solid ground beneath her feet for the first few steps, and then it fell out from under her, sending her tumbling through the darkness. She couldn’t tell where she was falling from or what she was falling into—only that she was tumbling, head over heels, further and further down.

  But she was glad. The demons didn’t follow her and the pain went away almost immediately. The falling sensation turned her stomach over and over again, but she vastly preferred that to the torture she had been experiencing before. It felt almost safe, falling. It felt like freedom. It felt like wind and air and space rushing around her, keeping away the spirits that wanted to hurt her.

  Dhara relaxed into herself, drawing a gasp of air, and then she opened her eyes.

  Why her eyes had been closed, she didn’t know. Had someone closed them for her, by force? Had she been blinded and suddenly her sight was restored? They were questions that seemed important for mere seconds, until she saw the ground rushing up toward her, getting miles closer every second, and she realized the terrible truth—the demons might have all been in her head, but the rest wasn’t. The flailing and the fleeing that she had done had sent her careening from her safe p
lace on Kean’s back, and the ground rushing up toward her was as real as the dress floating around her.

  In just seconds, she was going to meet that ground, and her slight, frail body was going to be no match for it at all.

  With a scream of utter terror, Dhara realized that she was mere moments from certain death, and as Kean’s face floated before her eyes, all she could do was wish that she’d had one more minute with him to tell him that she would fight for them too—no matter what it took.

  There would never be time for that now. There would never be time for anything.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Kean

  It took him a minute to realize what was happening. Through the thick armor on his back, he could feel Dhara scurrying around, and at first he didn’t understand what she was doing. Perhaps his back was not as comfortable as she’d hoped. It wasn’t as though he’d ever had anyone back there before to tell him whether or not there was a cozy spot to lie down between the ridges and the scales. But she wasn’t settling, and he began to get concerned. He tried to look back at her, but he couldn’t see her from his vantage point, and the rushing of the wind around his ears was too loud for him to pick up on any other noises, despite his accentuated hearing.

  When she suddenly stopped moving, he was relieved, assuming that she had finally found the place she wanted to lie down. But then it was all too still, and he couldn’t feel the press of her body or the warmth of her skin. If he swiped his tail to the right and left, he didn’t feel her shifting around on top of him. Cold terror hit him like a ton of bricks, and as he flew, he looked down, his eyes immediately fixating on the speck that was falling far away from him at a horrifying speed.

  Dhara!

  He immediately went into a nosedive, not even stopping to think where he was, who might see him, or what the consequences would be if he suddenly pulled up in the middle of a busy street, a real-life dragon on full display. If he didn’t get to her before she got to the ground, she was going to die, and if she died, then he might as well.