“No one stole this place!” Dakra protested. “It had long been deserted before we came. The Dragons abandoned it years ago. We were told…” The Forsaken’s strained words came to an abrupt halt, as though he’d said too much.
“Told?” asked Trix, her mind recalling something that Amara had said in the tunnels. “Who told you to come here? Who is your Leader?”
“Leader?” Dakra spat back at her. “We have no leader.”
“Yes, you have,” Trix said as she stepped slowly, gracefully, towards him. “Someone wants these Relics even more than you do. Besides, you wouldn’t know what to do with them if they crawled up your arse. And your dead friend Cintra—she was afraid of someone, too. Of some consequence if she failed. At first I thought it was the Dragon shifters, but I’m not so sure anymore. It seems to me that she was working for someone more powerful, and so are you.”
“Fuck you, Hunter,” he growled.
Well, clearly he wasn’t going to answer any questions willingly, and Trix was losing patience. She locked eyes with Amara, and a wave of mutual understanding passed between the two women. They were allies now, partners in crime.
They trusted one another at last.
Amara rammed an elbow into Dakra’s side where she’d stabbed him earlier. When he cried out in agony and reached a hand to the wound, Trix descended on him, her sword held over her head.
“Go, now!” she shouted, and Amara slid out from under Dakra’s weakening grasp. In that moment the Seeker brought the sword down, tearing deep into Dakra’s shoulder as though it were nothing more than a tender piece of steak. The Dragon bone had found its target.
Dakra fell to the ground, writhing in pain, a sharp cry emerging from between his lips as he grabbed his shoulder.
“You feel that? That’s the toxin, making its way through your body faster now,” Trix hissed. “But still slowly enough that you’ll suffer a great deal before you die. I can heal you, but I’ll only do it if you tell me who you serve.”
Dakra’s voice was little more than an inhuman hiss. “I serve no one.”
“Bull. Shit.” Trix pressed the blade’s edge to his leg, threatening to cut him again. He let out another high-pitched shriek. “You…you can’t defeat him, even with your damned Relics,” he spat out, his eyes narrowing. “Just finish me off. It doesn’t matter if I die. More will come. He will come, and he will conquer your beloved Dragons.” His voice was filled with so much hatred. “He will come and everything will end.”
“Who. Is. He?” Trix snarled, putting enough pressure on the blade that it sliced through Dakra’s trousers, threatening to do the same to his leg.
“You don’t want to know. It would kill you. It would kill all of you if you found out.” The Forsaken’s eyes were losing their brightness, his skin fading to a dull grey. Soon he would be nothing more than a shade.
“Oh, so suddenly you’re concerned about our feelings, are you?” Trix growled. She hated him in that moment for what he’d done. For conspiring against the Dragons, for threatening the life she planned to live with her lover. “Just answer the fucking question, Foreskin.”
Dakra’s eyes were rolling into his head, his moaning voice a grim whisper. “You will learn to be afraid,” he breathed. “He will come for you when all is said and done. The Dragons. The Hunters. The humans. He will let none of you live. He will take your Relics. He knows…”
In spite of herself, Trix felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. “Tell me who he is.”
But the Forsaken was descending into a trance-state, lips moving hypnotically, his voice monotone.
Damn it, don’t die, Trix thought. Not yet.
“He is the oldest one of all. He wants all the power, and he will have it. When he comes at you, nothing you can do will stop him. He’s one of…” With those words he turned his eyes towards the Dragons, who had succeeded alongside the Enlightened in their battle against the Lapsed. Bodies littered the ground around them, vanishing in clouds of grey powder almost as quickly as they fell.
“Your leader is a…Dragon?” Trix asked the Forsaken, her heart pounding. “Tell me his name.”
But Dakra’s eyes went blank, any remaining life deserting them. His body had turned into an empty shell. A moment later Trix covered her face with her right arm as he dissipated in a burst of thick grey dust. The Dragon bone’s poison had finally taken its toll.
“Are you all right?” Trix asked as she reached for Amara, who nodded her head, grabbing Dakra’s blade from the ground where it lay.
“I feel…weak,” Amara said.
“Here,” Trix told her, offering the last of her vial’s water as she stared at the cut on Amara’s neck. If Dragon bone killed Forsaken, it would eventually eat away at her as well. “Drink this, quickly.”
Amara took the vial gratefully and swigged the contents. Almost immediately her wound disappeared, a faint pink glow hitting her cheeks.
“Beatrix, go to your Lyre,” she said. “I’ll see if Minach needs help.” Amara turned to her Enlightened companions. “Come, help the Dragons, and you’ll be rewarded for it.”
They turned to obey her command, taking on any stragglers who’d managed to survive the battle, most of whom had already been badly wounded. Within moments all the Forsaken had been dispatched. The vast, now bright chamber contained nothing but the two Dragons, Trix, and the assorted Enlightened who’d helped ensure their survival.
Trix dashed towards Lyre’s Dragon as quickly as her feet would carry her. “Are you all right?” she asked out loud when his eyes met hers.
He shifted to stand in front of her, his arms immediately wrapping around her as she let the Katana fall to her side. It felt so good to be enveloped in him again. So right.
“Fine,” he told her silently. “A little bruised, but fine. Jesus, when that wall came down I thought I’d lost you for good. I couldn’t stand the thought of it, Beatrix.”
“Never.” She pulled away to look into his eyes, a smile setting in on her lively features. “You will never lose me.”
“Good.” He kissed her forehead, turning to look for his brother. Minach’s huge Dragon stood several feet away, cocking his head in a gesture that almost managed to be cute. A stunning development, that.
After a moment, he killed the illusion when his mouth opened into a massive, jagged-toothed grin. What should have looked adorable came across as slightly terrifying.
“Mad Dragon,” Trix shot him, her eyes moving down to Minach’s bloody chest. “Shift back and we’ll give you a little something to help heal your wounds.”
All around them a semi-circle of tall, pale figures fanned out, weapons at their sides. Some were badly wounded, but others had managed to come away unscathed. At their centre stood Amara.
When Lyre had given Minach a drag of his vial of well water, Trix walked over to Amara, her hand holding tight onto her lover’s.
“We owe you so much for what you did here,” she said. “I don’t know what to say…how to thank you.”
“We had a goal,” Amara replied. “and it’s been met. Our motives were a little selfish, though. The only way that the Enlightened can ever come out of hiding is if we secure the support of the Dragons.”
“Tell her that she has it,” Lyre told Trix silently. “Also, tell her not to stare up at the windows of Glastonbury inns at night. It’s downright creepy.”
Trix conveyed the messages, laughing as she mentioned the inn. She didn’t know quite what Lyre was talking about, but something told her it would be conversation fodder for another day.
“I’ll be happy to vouch for you with the Dragons’ Guild,” Trix said. “You’ve proven yourself loyal.”
Amara bowed her head in a gesture of reverence. “If the Guild needs help recovering the other Relics, come and find me.”
After thanking her again Trix stood back, looking around at the faces of the Enlightened. Beautiful, pale, exotic features on fluid, slim bodies. Half-breeds, long hidden from the world.
“They all came here because of you,” she whispered. “They made sure the Dragons and I succeeded.”
Amara nodded. “These are the lost. The half-breeds who have no place in this world. All we want is a world that allows us to live our lives in peace.”
“You’ll have it,” Trix said. “I promise.”
Home
The next morning, a small group of Dragon shifters gathered in the Guild’s chamber under Hampstead Heath to receive the Relic. Lumen had entrusted its placement in the vault to Kliev, who was the senior and most experienced member of the Guild. Now only Lumen, Aegis, Minach, Lyre and Tryst remained, as well as Trix, who had told them about Amara’s part in the recovery of the Relic of Air.
“I think she’s a valuable ally,” Trix told them, “and so does Lyre. We should consider working with her in future.”
“Not a chance,” Tryst protested without waiting for anyone else’s opinion. “I will not negotiate with half-breeds.” The female Dragon shifter’s arms were crossed over her chest, her face sullen. “They can’t be trusted.”
“The half-breed you’re speaking of saved Minach’s life,” Trix protested. “She and her allies helped us to fight. Amara was ready to die for the Dragons…”
“I won’t hear of it, and that’s final,” Tryst said, storming out of the room, leaving the others behind in stunned silence.
It was Lumen who spoke first. “She’s had…bad experiences,” he told Trix, his tone quiet. “She isn’t normally quite so rabidly opposed to an entire species, unless you count the Forsaken themselves.”
“Oh, no?” Trix asked. “Well, she seems pretty closed-minded in this case.”
“Just give her time. Perhaps she’ll come round eventually. She hasn’t had the pleasure of being around an…Enlightened, you called her?”
“Yes. That’s what they call themselves. They don’t share the Forsaken’s cruel streak. They don’t murder humans. I don’t understand why…” Lyre’s hand reached for Trix, pressing gently into her back. She knew that he could sense the anger bubbling up inside her and wanted to calm her down. And perhaps she was being unreasonable to judge Tryst so harshly.
“I’m sorry,” she told Lumen. “You’re right; I’ll give Tryst a break. She’s probably just stressed. And…there’s something I haven’t told you yet.” She looked around. Everyone in the room was a trusted friend. Minach was almost her brother, and Lumen and Aegis may as well have been.
“What is it?” Lumen asked.
Trix looked to Lyre for consent, and he nodded in support.
“They—the Forsaken—knew we were coming. One of them, a man called Dakra…he said there’s someone very powerful out there. Someone or something ancient; I wasn’t able to get all the answers I wanted. All I know is that he—whoever he is—wants the Relics.”
“I see,” Lumen said quietly, his eyes shifting to look at the other Kindred, his face going blank before his eyes settled on Trix’s once again. “We must keep this a secret. Do you understand?”
Everyone present nodded consent.
“I won’t say anything,” said Trix, “but we thought you should know about it.”
“This Relic business just gets more complicated, doesn’t it?” Aegis said, trying to lighten the mood. “But don’t worry, Lumen. We’re behind you. You can trust everyone in this chamber.”
“The question is, can I trust those outside of it?” Lumen said, his hand gripping the edge of the massive wooden table that occupied most of the long room.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Aegis replied, watching as Trix reached for Lyre’s hand and squeezed. She didn’t like the sound of any of this talk. She’d managed to take on two Forsaken now, but the very idea of someone more powerful exhausted her.
“So,” she said, trying hard to change the subject so that the tension in her body could dissipate. There’d been far too much fear and freaking out lately; it was time for a little levity. “How have things been around here?”
“Oh, you know,” said Aegis, “Same old same old. Forsaken getting barbecued in the streets by Dragon’s breath and whatnot.”
The laugh that erupted from Trix’s chest felt damn good. “Well, I’m glad to hear it, and I hope you Dragon lads keep it up. But I need a fucking rest. I never thought I’d say this, but it’s going to be nice to spend a few days without thinking about stabbing, slicing or otherwise killing something.”
“And you’ll have them,” Lumen told her. “There’s just one more thing we need to know—when you extracted the Relic, was there a verse alongside it?”
“No, just the Relic, embedded in the table leg,” she said. “But now I think of it, that’s strange, isn’t it? When Neko found the first Relic, the second verse was right there with it.”
Lumen nodded.
“Perhaps we left something behind,” Lyre signed, grateful to be surrounded by shifters who understood him. “We could go back to the Tor and look…” Trix, reading his meaning, shot him a look and he corrected himself. “All right, Minach could go back and look.”
“Not bloody fucking likely,” his brother said. “I don’t plan to step foot in that hell-hole again, even if it is cleared of Forsaken. But to answer Lumen’s original question, I did scan the table for a verse, but I found nothing.”
“Well, we’ll just have to have faith that it will show up,” said Lumen. “I only hope that it does so soon.”
“Speaking of Relics and verses,” Trix said, “I expected to see Neko here. Where is she?”
“Oh, she’s resting at home,” Lumen said. “She wasn’t feeling so wonderful today.”
“She’s sick?”
“Not exactly,” he replied, looking about the room, his expression almost bashful. “She’s…pregnant.”
“What?” Trix reached out to smack the Guild’s Alpha on one of his massive biceps. “Preggers? You’re going to have a wee Dragon baby?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“You sly, incredibly sexually active dog,” Aegis said, slapping Lumen on the back to add to the assault. “I say we all head out to celebrate. Except for Neko, of course. She can’t drink, so I’ll have her eight pints while she sits at home with her feet up, or whatever it is that knocked up women do.”
“Fine, ya bastard,” said Lumen. “I suppose I’m in, assuming that my very hormonal mate allows me to leave the house on anything other than official business.”
“Right,” said Trix. “It’s settled. Let’s go out tonight.” She pivoted to look up at Lyre. “But only after my mate and I have had a long, hot shower.”
“And a nap,” Lyre signed, grinning. “And another shower, and a pot of coffee, and…” He stopped short of conveying to those in the room how badly he wanted to strip Trix’s clothes off and spend the next twelve or so hours in the throes of intensely passionate, loving, yet aggressive sex.
“Go, then. You’ve earned a little rest,” Lumen told them, smiling from ear to ear. It was the look of a man who was bursting with joy.
With that, Lyre waved a quick good-bye and took Trix’s hand to lead her out of the room towards the landing pad under the Heath.
“You ready to fly home?” he signed, and she understood.
Trix nodded. “So ready that I can’t even stand it.”
* * *
Their flight was spent in quiet contemplation, neither wanting to break the calm silence after their dark adventure under the Tor. Each knew perfectly well what the other was feeling: relief, joy, happiness.
And love.
Trix spent a good deal of the twenty-minute flight leaning forward to hug Lyre’s Dragon’s neck, reassuring herself that he really was there. After everything, he was hers for good. The worst of their battle was over, and now they could settle into a life together as Lumen and Neko had done. Occasionally she felt a vibration coming from his throat, almost a low, rumbling Dragon purr. She knew that he was as happy as she was.
When they arrived at their destination in the countryside north
west of London, the Dragon set down in a tidily manicured back garden behind a sprawling grey house. Trix stared at the building in wonder, quickly counting what looked like twenty windows, each of which seemed to look out from a separate room.
“This is really your—our—house?” she asked as she leapt down from his back. “It’s somewhat larger than the cottage in Dover, isn’t it?”
“Yes. This is my lonely hovel.” The words came from his Dragon’s mind, but he shifted immediately to lead her towards the back door, extracting a key from his jeans pocket.
“Not a hovel. And not so lonely now,” she said, looking up at him as he thrust the key into the lock.
“No, not so lonely now,” he replied, his eyes locking on hers. For a moment he paused and smiled down at her, a hand going to her cheek to push an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Never lonely again. And I’m so grateful for that. For you. If you knew how much I love you, Beatrix…”
She put an index finger to his lips, quieting his thoughts for a moment before shifting onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss on the place where her finger had been. When she’d settled back down, she spoke out loud.
“I already know,” she said. “I know, because I’m inside you. Which means that you know how much I love you, too.”
“Well then,” Lyre said out loud, his words controlled, soft, “it’s time for you to meet your new home. And I hope you like it.”
“I would love any home I’d share with you, even if it did only have thirty-four rooms.”
Dragon Seeker, Part Three Page 12
