“There,” she said out loud, pointing to the floor. He reacted, seeking out the slab she was indicating. Its corner appeared to be missing, leaving nothing but a triangular, black hole only large enough for a mouse to crawl through. Lyre looked at Trix again and waited for her to speak. She was the Seeker, after all.
“I think this is the way,” she said. “Don’t ask me why. I have no idea why my gut tells me we should lift it. I mean, for one thing, it must weigh five hundred pounds, so it’s a ridiculous notion.”
But Lyre crouched down and almost effortlessly pulled up the stone, lifting it out of its spot and laying it gently on the floor beside the large opening that he’d created.
“Well, so much for my stupid assumptions.” Trix leaned over the hole, trying to let her eyes adjust to the darkness below. After a moment, she pulled out her phone and shone its flashlight downwards. She could see a floor that looked to be at least eight feet below them, but no ladder leading down towards its hard stone surface.
“We’ll have to jump,” she said, dismayed.
“I’ll go first. I’m bigger,” Lyre’s internal voice told her, and before she could stop him, he’d slid his legs over the edge, easing himself down into the abyss and landing softly somewhere beneath them. When he’d hit the bottom he straightened up, holding his arms towards her as though to reassure her. I’ll catch you.
Though she was certain that she wouldn’t be able to move it as Lyre had done, Trix pulled the stone slab towards her as she sat on the edge of the hole, ready to slip her body downward. She was stunned to find that the slab moved easily under her touch, as though she’d suddenly become incredibly strong. Either that or there was a spell cast on the stone itself, which seemed equally unlikely.
She leapt down and Lyre caught her by the waist, pulling her towards him to hold her for a moment. Trix wondered if he felt the same sort of apprehension that she did. If so, he was far better at hiding it.
Darkness surrounded them, the only light source coming from the hole above.
“I need to pull the slab over the opening,” she said, much as she was reluctant to lose the one bit of brightness at their disposal. “If anyone should figure out what we’ve done…”
“Of course,” he responded silently, lifting her by the waist so that she could drag it back into place. When he’d set her on her feet again, Trix pulled out her phone, shining its flashlight around the space to reveal a dark, grey corridor of stone. It turned out that the ceiling was at least ten feet high, giving even Lyre’s massive form a little overhead clearance.
“What is this place?” Trix asked, looking about them as her sensitive eyes worked to adjust to the dark.
“Well, I’m not so sure anymore that it’s just a myth that this place is a gateway to the land of the Dead,” he told her. “Look.” He gestured towards the wall to their left, where a long series of intricate carvings in the stone surface seemed to tell a story of some sort.
“This is…amazing,” said Trix, wandering over to take a look and shining her light over the surface. The carvings were of Dragons and men, fighting ferociously over a field of battle. Fire and brimstone seemed to rain down on the men, many of whom lay in lifeless piles on the ground. Though a few Dragons had also been run through with spears and arrows.
“War,” Lyre’s voice told her. “The images seem to depict the Dragons conquering, so in all likelihood it was Dragon shifters who carved them. History is always told by the victors, after all. Perhaps this place was used by my kind long ago, just as we use the Heath now. A gathering place of sorts. Or else a hiding spot.”
“A Dragons’ lair on the Isle of Avalon,” Trix whispered. “If it was once owned by the Dragons, maybe it’s safe after all.” Something about Avalon, where King Arthur had been taken to recover from his battle wounds, had always seemed to exude goodness rather than an aura of evil. If the Dragons had used this place, perhaps it was protected by some invisible power. Maybe the Forsaken hadn’t managed to find their way in, after all. It seemed that Dragon magic was useful at keeping enemies at bay.
Trix spoke telepathically for a moment, shutting off her phone’s light to preserve the battery and hoping that their eyes would be powerful enough to see in the dark. “Let’s see what this place has in store for us. I’ve no idea where to start, but I suppose if it’s a labyrinth we should make our way towards the centre.”
“You’re the Seeker—my Seeker,” Lyre’s voice rumbled inside her, causing a stirring of butterflies to take off in her belly. “You lead the way, and I’ll follow, even if this passage takes us into the Underworld and we can never return. I’d follow you anywhere, even to the gates of Hell.”
Trix turned his way, her eyes well enough adjusted to make out his handsome face, and wrapped an arm around his neck, planting a long, deep kiss on his lips. “You’ve said quite a few romantic things to me over the days we’ve known each other, Lyre,” she said, “But that’s certainly the winner for most romantic.”
With that, she turned and made her way into the darkness, her lover at her back.
Separation Anxiety
As they advanced, Trix found that her eyes were able to make out a dim, glowing sort of luminescence reflecting from the stone walls of the tunnel. Almost as though invisible torches hung all around them, lighting their way. Whether it was some sort of magic or a natural occurrence, neither of them could say, but both were silently grateful for the assistance as they moved slowly, methodically, inching their way along the uneven floor of stone towards the unknown.
“Do you smell that?” Lyre’s voice asked after a moment, nestling itself in her mind. She bristled and inhaled deep through her nose.
“Yes,” she replied silently. “The air…it’s a little too sweet. It should be mossy and damp down here, if anything. This is reminding me too much of …”
“The Forsaken, yes.” Lyre reached for her, flattening his palm on her lower back below her sword’s sheath. A reminder that whatever lay ahead, they’d face it together. I’m with you, the gesture said. It was a welcome reminder.
Trix stopped moving and took in another deep breath, turning towards him to force a smile. Just for a moment she wanted to forget that the rest of the world even existed. He was her world, he was what mattered. At the end of this day, they’d crawl under the sheets somewhere, together and happy. Their bodies would become one as they celebrated their success.
If they survived the day.
“You’re never alone, whatever happens,” he told her silently, seeming to read her expression as she met his stare.
“I know,” she nodded, mouthing the words. “But thank you for reminding me.”
“Besides,” he added, giving her a crooked half-grin, “If anyone tries to hurt you, I’ll rip them limb from limb.”
Trix’s smile broadened. “Smooth talker. You always know just what to say to get my juices flowing,” she whispered, grateful that it was light enough that he could read her lips.
“I know other ways to arouse you that are slightly less gruesome,” he replied, his own smile deeply playful and completely irresistible. Good lord, how was a woman to get anything done with such a sexy beast next to her?
Giving in to a moment of impulse, Trix pushed him back against the wall and drew herself towards him. “Sexy, distracting man,” she whispered, her eyes perusing his stubbled chin and full lips. “We’re in mortal danger down here, and yet all I want to do now is to get you naked again. How do you do that to me?” She drew her chin up and moved in for a kiss, a development that he welcomed without hesitation.
“I don’t know, but it’s such an odd coincidence that you should say that,” his thoughts drifted into her mind, “because all I want to do right now is get you naked.”
He slipped a hand under her jacket and t-shirt to find her waist, tracing the curve of her skin. The backs of his fingers skimmed upwards over her ribcage before easing ever so gently over her left breast. Even through her bra, her nipple hardened instant
ly under his touch, sending a hard pulse of desire to her sex.
“Be careful,” she said, “or I’ll be on my knees in a moment and your jeans will be around your ankles.”
“That would be a damned nuisance,” he said, pulling his hand away and crossing his fingers as his lips curved into a satisfied grin. She mirrored the motion and they each allowed themselves a moment to relax, remembering what the makeshift sign meant: Please, let me go down on you. Right here. Right now.
Lyre leaned in to kiss her again, not wanting to let the moment pass. Not wanting to surrender his beautiful Beatrix to the daunting task ahead of them.
But just as their lips met for a second time, Trix froze under his touch, her body going rigid. In response the Dragon shifter stiffened, his eyes widening slightly as he pulled back to sniff the air.
“Lyre…” the Hunter’s internal voice whispered into his mind.
“What is it? Tell me, did you hear something?”
“Yes. I think someone’s here,” she replied. She’d never been so grateful to be able to communicate in silence. “Down the tunnel, to my right.”
Lyre turned his head slowly, narrowing his eyes and inhaling deep through his nose, his Dragon suddenly on high alert. The same feral look was setting itself on his features as Trix had seen on that face of icy scale, when his déor had taken on the Forsaken in London.
Protective, aggressive, and ready to kill.
She turned as well, following his gaze. In the distance down the tunnel stood a shadowy figure: large, hunched, moving towards them in an awkward sort of limp. But the moment their eyes fixed on the creature, it stopped in its tracks, snorting quietly.
Trix listened, knowing that hers were the only ears that would register the sound of the entity as it snuffled, it’s nose trying to pick up their scent, to identify whether they were allies or enemies.
“A sentry,” she concluded, silently conveying the words to Lyre. “I think he’s a watcher of some sort.”
“Yes. He’s one of the Lapsed.” His voice rang in her mind, deep and foreboding. “Serving the Forsaken, most likely. No Lapsed would be down here on his own.”
Trix gave a shallow nod. Well, this was a bad omen. Like finding a solitary cockroach and knowing that it meant that many more would be hiding in the shadows. Only in this case, the other roaches were deadly, powerful bloodsuckers.
Trix stepped back from Lyre, turning her body slowly towards the nasty thing that stalked them. A single Lapsed was no threat to them, but they would do well to take it down quickly, quietly, before it could alert anyone to their presence.
“We should draw it towards us,” Lyre told her, “and take it out.” He stepped back, hoping to pull the Lapsed into the darkness of the corridor.
But Trix stepped forward as though she hadn’t registered the words. As soon as she did so, the watcher seemed to sense the threat, pivoting away from them and moving with surprising agility in the opposite direction.
Without hesitation, Trix began to sprint after it. “He’s getting away,” she said out loud, forgetting for a moment that Lyre couldn’t hear her as her mind focused on her prey. Damn it, she could take it on her own; she’d done so many times on London’s streets.
But Lyre, standing firm, called after her in his mind, desperate to stop her. Some grim warning was spinning around inside him like a tornado, telling him that she needed to come back to him. She was too far away now.
“Stop, Beatrix, before it’s too late. It’s a…”
But she didn’t seem to hear his plea. Some sort of temporary madness had consumed her. And by the time he’d unleashed the word trap, it was too late.
* * *
Trix was running like someone possessed, her desire to stop the Lapsed blocking everything else from her mind. Her Hunter’s instinct, which had helped her so many times to catch and dispatch the creatures, had kicked in. For the moment she was no longer a Dragon shifter’s lover, but Trix, employee of the Syndicate and expert Lapsed slayer. She’d never failed and she wasn’t about to start now.
Unless…
“Stop, Beatrix…”
As soon as she registered the warning that Lyre had shouted into her mind, she drew herself to a halt, pivoting on her heel to look for his eyes. But even as she spun, the sickening grinding of stone on stone met her ears, and an even more horrifying sight met her eyes.
All around her the tunnel had begun to shake violently, pieces of debris tumbling from the arched ceiling to the ground. Some distance behind her, Lyre was darting towards her, his mouth open as if he were preparing to shout. His outstretched hand reached into space, trying in vain to reach for her. But they were too far apart and it was too late.
At a horrifying speed, a massive wall of stone came crashing down between them from an unseen place in the ceiling, blocking off the tunnel. Instinctively, Trix ran towards the wretched barrier, throwing out her arms to slam her hands onto its broad surface and thrust with all her strength. But of course the damned thing didn’t budge under her touch. She drew her Katana sword, recalling that Neko had told her that Dragon bone could slice through almost anything, and dashed its blade against the ancient stone.
But aside from a few long, white scratches, the sword did no damage whatsoever. It would take months to make a dent in the bloody thing. Trix could see why; the wall, like the ones that lined the tunnel around her, was covered in carvings, tributes to the Dragons who had once occupied the underground. The scenes depicted battles, victorious flying creatures breathing fire on their fleeing enemies.
And Dragon bone weapons apparently did little against the barriers that Dragons themselves had erected.
“Lyre!” Trix shouted his name instinctively, blood surging through her veins as her heart pounded in her chest, her fists smashing against the wall in frustration. For a moment she’d lost herself, some frenzied bloodlust taking over her body.
She inhaled slowly.
Calm down, Trix, she commanded herself. Breathe, and don’t do any more stupid things.
“Are you there? Can you feel me?” she asked, her mind silently sending the words towards the place where she’d last seen him standing. She needed to know he was there. That he was all right. If anything had happened to him, if the wall had come down on him…
No. It was too awful a thought.
“I’m here.”
When his reply finally came, she sank to her knees, an immediate flood of relieved tears streaking down her freckled cheeks. His voice reverberating in her mind was the most beautiful thing she’d ever felt. The words were withering and faint, as though he were very, very far away. But at least he was alive.
“I’m all right,” he told her. “The wall missed me, though just barely. I think it’s a trap set long ago by my people. Bloody pain in the arse, those Dragon shifters. I tried yelling at the sodding wall that I’m one of them, but it wouldn’t budge.”
Trix smirked. As always, her lover was trying to lighten the mood. But there was no way he’d succeed, not this time. It was all her fault. She’d been cocky, thinking she should take down the Lapsed on her own. Somehow this place had made her forget that they were a team now, the Seeker and her Dragon man.
“My sword does nothing against the wall,” she told him. “Can you shift? Maybe your Dragon could break it down?”
A long moment passed before he responded, as though Lyre were contemplating the concept. “There’s…not enough room in the tunnel,” he finally replied. “I’d wind up bringing the entire place down around us, and no doubt kill us both. I’m afraid I’m going to have to find another route to you.” His internal voice was calm, but she could tell that he was holding something back. As miserable as she was, she knew that it was killing him to find himself separated from her now, knowing that there was danger on her side and that he couldn’t offer her protection.
Her heart sank into her stomach.
“I’m with you,” his voice growled deep inside her, his mind reading her own as it so of
ten did. “Don’t forget that. Don’t ever forget it.”
“And I’m with you,” she thought, holding back a sob. Yet, I’ve never felt so alone. I did this to us.
Her heart ached with the pain of the separation. But at least she didn’t feel afraid, not anymore. She was a problem-solver, and she’d been in danger many times before ever meeting her mate. She’d find a way to channel all her frustration. To focus.
She turned to look the way the Lapsed had run, and knew that she had no choice. She was going to have to move forward, to follow in the creature’s vile footsteps. To fulfill her duty and seek out the Relic.
Then she’d find her way to her lover, if it was the last damned thing she did.
“All right. See if you can find another way to me,” she told him. “Meanwhile, I’m going to go after that Lapsed. I need to finish what we’ve started.” She pressed a hand to her side of the wall, reluctant to say good-bye.
“I know that a Lapsed is no match for you, my Hunter,” he responded, the words breaking up in her mind as though they were connected via a bad phone line. “Just…be safe. I can’t lose you, Beatrix. I won’t lose you. Not for anything.”
“No, Dragon man, you won’t. We’ve only just found each other.” She was grateful not to have to use her vocal cords, which would have had difficulty choking out the words. The truth was that her heart hurt as it had seldom done in her life. He was so close by, and yet he may as well have been on the other side of the world. Untouchable. Unreachable. He was no longer her shield against fear and danger. She would have to shield herself now.
With that thought, Trix turned away from the wall and from her mate, tears still rimming her eyes. He’d been torn away from her, at least for now. The Seeker was on her own.
She drew her Katana sword from its sheath and walked swiftly down the hall, her keen eyes focused ahead despite the relative dark of the tunnel.
“No crying,” she told herself, wincing her pain away. “You haven’t lost him. Not yet.”
Dragon Seeker, Part Three Page 6
