Patrima: A Dragon for Christmas (Return of the Dragons Book 5)

by Rinelle Grey

  Ultrima didn’t even think him a real, worthy adversary.

  Patrima growled in anger and raced towards Ultrima, his hands crackling with lightning.

  He reached for his leader, determined to grasp onto him and watch as the electricity surged through him. But he was gone.

  Patrima spun around just in time for this blast to hit him square in the middle of the chest, knocking him back onto his already tender behind.

  He sat among the tangled mess of tree and tinsel, broken baubles cutting into his already tender skin, winded.

  Ultrima watched him, his eyes whirling. “Do you have the sense to stay down this time, boy?”

  Patrima clenched his fists and drew in a deep breath. The anger surging through him gave him the strength to blot out the pain and bounce back up, only to be blasted back down again before he’d even regained his feet.

  The pain arcing through his chest, as though Ultrima’s lightning was still flashing back and forth, was so intense it made it hard to breathe. He could probably have struggled to his feet again, but what was the point. Ultrima would just send him straight back down.

  Patrima slumped back onto the pine needles, not even caring how much his whole body burned.

  He’d failed. And worse, he’d made fool of himself doing it.

  Why had he ever thought he could take on Ultrima? Sure, he’d never actually seen the old dragon fight, but everyone had talked about his power, his skill. His determination.

  The same determination Patrima could see shining in his eyes now.

  He’d been an idiot.

  “Get out of here, before I throw you out,” Ultrima spat. “You have no place here in Trima clan.”

  A cold chill ran through Patrima. He wanted to beg to be allowed to stay, to insist that he had nowhere else to go. But he knew how well that worked on the old dragon. He’d tried it once before.

  Instead he struggled to his feet, blocking out the pain, and managed a half bow. “As you wish,” he said stiffly.

  The whole room was silent.

  Patrima didn’t even look at them as he limped towards the cave entrance.

  His mind was blank. It refused to even think about where he would go, and what he would do. All he was thinking was how to make it out of the mountain lair without collapsing on the floor in pain.

  “May I at least tend to his wounds before he leaves?”

  Patrima’s eyes flicked towards the doorway where his mother stood, her human eyes dark and sad.

  His heart ached far worse than any of the wounds.

  He’d let her down.

  Again.

  “I’m fine,” he growled. “I don’t need your human nursing.”

  The pain on his mother’s face hurt deeper than Ultrima’s lightning had. He’d always disappointed her, from the first moment they’d moved here to the dragon lair to be with his father. Or maybe from the first moment his sister had been born as both moments were so close together as to be indistinguishable.

  But even though his mother was hurt, it didn’t deter her. “If you are leaving the lair, you won’t have the option to enter the Mesmer. If those wounds get infected…”

  Patrima knew all about that. He’d faced infection a time or two, and had to resort to the Mesmer to deal with it once. If he didn’t have access to that…

  What did he care? If he were banished from his clan, what did it matter if he lived or died? He had no purpose outside of defeating his enemies.

  They weren’t even his enemies, they were his clan’s enemies.

  Ultrima waved a hand dismissively. “Treat his wounds then. He can even use the Mesmer to heal before he leaves if he can find anyone to partner with him, but then he must pack his things and go.”

  There were murmurs from the crowd. No doubt praising Ultrima’s benevolence.

  “I don’t need the Mesmer. I’ve done just fine without it before,” Patrima said flatly.

  His mother frowned at him. “If you don’t let me treat those, I won’t let you leave alone.”

  Patrima almost laughed at that. Did she think she was going to be able to stop him leaving? Ultrima had thrown him out. She certainly couldn’t overrule that.

  Then her words sunk in. Leave alone.

  She wasn’t seriously thinking of coming with him if he didn’t agree, was she?

  Of leaving his father and sister behind?

  But she looked very serious, glaring at him with her hands on her hips.

  Patrima’s heart skipped a beat.

  She’d do that? For him?

  Well, he didn’t want her to. This was his problem. He’d caused it, and he’d deal with it.

  Apparently right after he let her see to his wounds.

  Patrima bit back a sigh. It was probably for the best. The one on his butt stung like crazy, and the one on his chest could well be serious. As much as the physical pain distracted him from the emotional pain that grasped at his heart at the thought of leaving his clan, it wasn’t worth dying for.

  “Fine. But hurry up. I have no intention of staying where I’m obviously not wanted for any longer than I have to.”

  Chapter 3

  “Hey, Braden, what have I missed?” Hailey said cheerfully, dropping a plastic shopping bag full of Christmas lights and tinsel onto the police station counter. She walked around the counter and put her bag near her desk.

  “Not a lot, been pretty quiet,” Braden said, leaning back in his chair and spinning to face her, twirling his pen in his fingers. “The carols have started down at the park, I did a patrol about half an hour ago, but there were no hassles. Not like your excitement yesterday.” He grinned at her, obviously expecting a story.

  Hailey shrugged uncomfortably. She’d already told everyone about rescuing Malcom, and she certainly didn’t want to talk about the strange man anymore. She hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind since.

  Repeatedly reviewing how he’d looked and how heroically he’d rescued Malcom was bad enough. But when she’d caught herself wondering what it might be like to kiss him, she’d decided she needed to put an end to that particular fantasy.

  “Are you looking forward to getting home and taking Madison up to see them?” Hailey asked, hoping to divert him, and herself.

  It worked. Braden shrugged. “Probably not. I’m planning a quiet night at home. It’s not like she even really understands what Christmas is yet.”

  Hailey couldn’t help feeling a little wistful. It would be little six-month-old Madison’s first Christmas. If it were her daughter, she’d make a big deal out of it.

  But it wasn’t, so she kept her mouth shut.

  “Well, you might as well get going,” she said instead. “I can handle things here.” She turned to the bag on the counter and pulled out the Christmas lights. She draped them over the top of the window, and plugged them in.

  They pulsed cheerfully, changing from red, to green, to blue, then back again. She smiled in appreciation. “There, much more cheerful.”

  Braden stood up and pushed his chair in. “You’re only going to have to take all those down again in two days,” he pointed out as he headed towards the door.

  “So?”

  “So it kinda makes it seem a bit pointless, doesn’t it?”

  “You have no Christmas spirit at all.” Hailey draped some tinsel over the lights as well, and surveyed her handiwork again.

  Braden just laughed and waved as he headed out the door.

  Hailey settled in, adding a few baubles to her desk, and checking all the daily reports.

  There wasn’t much to report. It was quiet in Mungaloo. Even on Christmas Eve.

  Hailey couldn’t complain though. She’d seen the opposite, on her first year as a constable in the big city. There, jobs had been coming in faster than they could cross them off.

  No, she couldn’t complain, even if she did wish for a little excitement to relieve her boredom. Not a domestic disturbance, or a break in at one of the stores that were all closed for the holida
y period. But…

  Something… interesting.

  The phone rang.

  “Mungaloo Police Station, Senior Constable Lyons speaking,” Hailey said.

  “Hello, Senior Constable,” a woman’s voice said. Hailey was pretty sure she recognised Councillor Narelle. “I’m sorry to bother you, I know you’re probably very busy, but there’s a young man down at the park and he’s upsetting a few people.”

  Hailey needed a bit more to go on than that. “What’s he doing?”

  “Well, he just started yelling at Owen Thornton, and he threw a candle at the ice cream stand. It wasn’t lit,” the councillor added hurriedly. “But it was a little disconcerting.”

  Hailey could imagine. “You don’t need that at the Christmas carols. I’ll be right down.”

  “Thank you,” Councillor Narelle said gratefully.

  Hailey hung up the phone and grabbed her accoutrements and headed out to the car.

  The park where the carols were being held was less than five minutes drive away. As she pulled up on the side of the road, Hailey couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so she got out of the car and headed into the crowd, keeping a sharp eye out.

  Councillor Narelle stood with Owen Thornton, the owner of Mungaloo’s town store, near the temporary stage that had been erected for a local band. They were playing Jingle Bell Rock, and the crowd’s voice swelled in the background as everyone waved their lit candles in unison.

  Hailey couldn’t help feeling jolly just listening to it. How could anyone be angry at a Christmas celebration?

  “Thanks for coming,” the councillor said, raising her voice a little over the sound of the band. She indicated Hailey should follow her a little bit away from the sound. When they could talk without shouting, she said, “The young man has moved away from the crowd now, so there was probably no point in calling you.”

  “I’m always happy to come down,” Hailey said quickly. “What happened?” She looked from the councillor to Owen. “Was it someone you recognise?”

  Owen Thornton shook his head. “He wasn’t a local,” he said with certainty. “He must have heard about the carols in the paper and come in from nearby I guess. That’s what I assumed anyway. So I said, ‘Merry Christmas,’ and offered him a candle. I’ve been giving them out to everyone so they can wave them in time to the music. It creates a real atmosphere, you know?”

  Hailey nodded. “I noticed. It’s great. So what happened then?”

  Owen shifted from one foot to the other. He cleared his throat. “Well, he yelled something about, ‘You and your stupid Christmas, it’s all a waste of time,’ and then he threw the candle against the ice cream stand, over there. Everyone turned around and looked, and he glared at all of them too.”

  Hailey frowned. It didn’t make any sense. Why would someone come all this way, the nearest town was at least half an hour’s drive away, just to yell at people who were enjoying a Christmas celebration?

  “Where is he now?” she asked.

  Councillor Narelle pointed to a rickety stand of bleachers near the edge of the park, out of reach of the lights. “He headed that way. I’m pretty sure he’s still sitting there watching.”

  Hailey could make out a shadowy shape, sitting at the top of the bleachers. “I’ll go have a talk to him. And warn him to stay away from the celebration if he can’t be civil.”

  “Thank you, Senior Constable. That would make me feel a lot more comfortable,” the councillor said with a smile.

  Owen nodded approval too.

  Hailey took one last look around the crowd, but everyone was enjoying the carols. If they’d been bothered by the man’s presence, they’d forgotten about it now.

  She headed across the park.

  As she drew closer, she could see the outline of the man more clearly.

  Her heart beat a little faster.

  He wore dark jeans and a dark shirt, and he would have almost blended into the background if it weren’t for the fact that his hair was light. Pale blonde, or maybe… silver?

  It couldn’t be… could it?

  The man she’d met yesterday had been a hero. Not the type to yell at people and throw things. It couldn’t be him.

  The man’s shoulders were slumped, and his face was turned towards the celebration, hidden in shadow. As Hailey reached the bottom of the bleachers, he looked directly at her.

  There was no mistaking it. It was the same man who had rescued Malcom at the canyon yesterday.

  In the darkness, his eyes seemed to glow as he stared at her.

  It must be a reflection of the candles the crowd was holding near the carols. But why was it more silver than the warm, comforting, yellow glow from the candles.

  “What are you doing here? Go away,” he said, his voice rough.

  “I was about to ask you the same question,” she said. She hesitated, but after his bravery and heroism yesterday, there was no way she could imagine he was dangerous, so she climbed up the chairs, and sat down a few metres away from him, watching him carefully. “I’m glad you are here though, I didn’t get a chance to thank you yesterday. You left in such a hurry.”

  Disappeared right off the face of the earth, she wanted to add.

  “It was nothing.” He turned his face away, staring at the crowd.

  Hailey couldn’t help being disappointed. She wanted to get a better look at his eyes.

  Really? She wanted to look at his eyes? Where was her professionalism?

  It was hard enough being a cop in a small country town. Everyone knew her. Everyone was respectful. But no one was a friend. Even those she’d been friends with in school kept a respectful distance now.

  Really, she was all about professionalism.

  Anyway, his eyes were unusual. They were worth noting.

  Professionally.

  “You don’t like Christmas, huh?” she asked, trying to prod him into talking.

  “It’s a waste of time,” he said, flatly. “What do they accomplish, waving candles around in the air and singing? They could be spending their time far more productively.”

  Wow, he really was bitter. He hadn’t seemed that way yesterday.

  Funnily enough, it didn’t make her like him any less. It didn't wipe out the heroism she’d witnessed. It just made her curious to know what had made him feel this way.

  “It makes them happy,” Hailey pointed out. “Surely it’s not a waste of time if it makes you feel good.”

  “But why? Why would something so pointless make them feel good?” He turned to her then, his eyes intense. As though he really struggled to understand.

  Hailey couldn’t help staring, as though his silver eyes were drawing her in.

  They still seemed to glow, despite the fact that he was facing away from the crowd now. Maybe it was a reflection from the moon. But Hailey knew there was no moon tonight. Not yet. It would be a couple more hours before the moon rose, and even then it would only be a sliver in the sky.

  It just added to the mystery. She wanted to know everything about him.

  Her heart thumped in her chest, as it usually only did when she was concerned that a situation might be dangerous. But he wasn’t giving off any threatening vibes at all, and she was a pretty good judge of character.

  “Well,” she struggled to explain. Her brain wasn’t really focusing. Not on the right thing anyway. “Christmas makes people feel good because it’s a holiday. You get to spend time with your family, eat good food, sing songs, and generally do fun things.”

  He was silent for a moment, staring at her, and Hailey found herself almost holding her breath.

  For some reason, she really wanted to get through to him. She wanted to see the confident, helpful man she’d seen yesterday again. She found it almost impossible to reconcile that man with this one, sitting on a bench in the dark, wanting nothing to do with all the people enjoying the celebration.

  He heaved an almost imperceptible sigh. “What if you have no family?”

  She c
ould almost feel the sadness emanating from him, and suddenly his attitude made a little more sense.

  She wouldn’t feel like celebrating without her family either. Without them, she’d be lost.

  As this man must be.

  What had happened to them? Had they died, or had they had a falling out? How long ago?

  She couldn’t even begin to think of what to say to someone who felt so alone.

  It explained why he’d reacted the way he had though, even if it didn’t justify it.

  “What I wouldn’t do is go into a crowd who are enjoying themselves and yell and throw things,” she said quietly.

  His eyes flew up to hers, and he gave an unwilling smile. “You probably wouldn’t throw Christmas baubles at the wall or topple over a Christmas tree either, would you?”

  What was he talking about? He hadn’t…

  Hailey looked back to the middle of the park, but the Christmas tree was still there, just as it always had been. Obviously he was talking about something else.

  She turned back to him, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring out at the celebration, his face a picture of confusion. “Don’t they see how pointless it all is? This celebration, this pretending all is right in the world, it doesn’t change reality. All the problems that made them feel bad yesterday are still there. And they’ll be there tomorrow. If you don’t fix it, nothing changes. It’s a waste of time.”

  He had a valid point, but there was something missing from his assessment. Hailey struggled to put it into words.

  “But it won’t be the same tomorrow,” she said slowly. “Because they’ll have the memory of this, see? It’s like a reset from all the normal stress of life. It gives you a chance to clear out the cobwebs in your mind and to start afresh. When they’re frustrated next time, they’ll still have a little bit of that good feeling left, and maybe it will change what they think, or do, or say, just enough to break that destructive pattern.”

  He stared at her for a moment, his eyes wide. Hopeful. Then it fell. He turned away and stared down at his feet. “Whatever you reckon.”

  Hailey wanted to argue with him, convince him that it was true. She hesitated, the words hovering on her lips.