by Paula Quinn
Sam closed her eyes and hurried to the nearest chair with Ellie at her side. She didn’t like hearing the Drakkon speak. She was glad she never met him in his previous form.
*
“Well, Thomas,” Marcus fell into the large cushioned chair closest to Sam’s. “What’s so urgent you came to my dwelling to tell me?”
Looking around the cozy, firelit room, Thomas nodded his approval before he sat down. For a few seconds, he just stared at Marcus with his chin pinched between his thumb and index finger. “May I speak freely in front of these ladies?”
After Marcus nodded, Thomas set his gaze on Sam again, riling Marcus’ nerves.
“Get on with it, Thomas. I don’t need to be Drakkon to kill you.”
Thomas smiled. “How are you, Marcus? We’ve expected to hear more from you.”
Aye, his revenge. Had he forgotten about it? “I’ve been busy. Get to your damned point.”
Thomas chuckled a bit nervously. “You took a few things from Padgora.”
“And?”
“And he wants them back.”
Marcus threw his head back and laughed. When he looked at Thomas again, his azure eyes frosted from the cold blood in his veins. How do I give the man back the languid whispers his wife poured into my ears while I took her? he asked the White, keeping Sam from hearing his thoughts.
Thomas proved that he was braver against a man than he was against a Drakkon when he leaned forward in his chair and looked Marcus square in the eye. You were ready to kill me for merely smiling at your woman, but you think taking another man’s wife to bed is acceptable?
The smile adorning Marcus’ face vanished, and in a single moment, his eyes turned deadly serious. “Don’t speak to me of what’s acceptable. You destroyed the last living Drakkon against his will.”
Thomas smiled cryptically. But whatever thought was going through his mind, he managed to keep hidden. “I have things to show you,” he said instead. “You’re not the cold monster Padgora claims you to be.”
“And how do you know that?”
Thomas sat back in his chair and entwined his fingers together in his lap. Images, centuries old, but one he had never forgotten, invaded his thoughts, and he passed his thoughts to Marcus and to Sam and Ellie, as well.
Marrkiya had been so close to death that the very stars seemed to call to him. The wound in his side bled like water from a stream and he cried out… “Fra taya lepodos existia.” Thomas remembered his plea, was still haunted by the fear and anguish in those cerulean eyes. I don’t want to die.
Thomas had saved his life. He had nursed the wound inflicted upon the young Drakkon and stayed with him every day until he was well again. “I grew to love you as a brother, Marrkiya, in those days of sunlight and hours spent listening to your deepest desires, in those days before hatred consumed you.”
Marcus sat very still in his chair. He didn’t move, even when Sam reached across their chairs and rested her hand on his. “You?” he asked Thomas. His eyes glistened like sapphires beneath a sun-dappled stream, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet and low.
Could what he was seeing be true? He remembered Sir George attacking him, and his own hatred when he awoke weeks later, but he’d never known how he lived through the deathblow of the knight’s arrow. “Why don’t I remember you there?” he asked, almost stunned to silence.
“I made you forget.”
“Why?” Marcus almost pleaded.
“I wasn’t supposed to help you, Marcus.”
Marcus blinked his eyes. He rose from his chair and went to the fire and stared into the yellow flames. For a long time neither man spoke a word. Marcus had no more doubts that what he had just witnessed in his mind was real. As the minutes passed, he remembered all that they had talked about in those weeks while he convalesced and the years after that. His heart shattered within him now, hearing his own words from the past, feeling his terror at the changing world and then his brave resolve that he would never let it destroy him. He turned from the flames to face Thomas. “You knew what the Drakkon meant to me.”
Thomas closed his eyes in defense of Marcus’ wide, sorrow-filled eyes. “Yes, I knew.” He opened his eyes and their gazes met, as they had once long ago when Marrkiya woke, escaping death. “And that’s why I’m here now. No one loves our race the way you do. Patrick and the others have wanted you dead for so long. When they discovered your lair ten years ago, it was I who kept them from killing you.”
Marcus laughed, believing that had he remained a Drakkon, he could have killed them all first. “Thomas, you saved me once, long ago, and you have my gratitude for that, but you also had a part in destroying the Drakkon so I—”
Thomas held up his finger. Marcus felt the mind probe coming from him. The White was summoning someone in the castle. Marcus couldn’t tell who it was except that her name was Tabitha. He turned immediately toward the door and waited for her to enter. “Who is she?” he asked Tomas without looking at him.
“You will see,” Thomas answered.
While they waited, Thomas asked him silently why Marcus hadn’t sought him out to discover what or where the special treasure was. Your Samantha distracted you from your desire to change back.
Marcus ignored him and kept his eyes on the entrance.
Soon, a girl no older than fifteen, stepped into the solar toting a little, golden-haired boy.
“Tabitha.” Thomas went to her and put his arm around her shoulder. “This is Marcus.”
“Hello, Marcus,” she sang in a voice young and sweet. Her hair was raven black and plaited down her back and her eyes were the same vivid shade of aqua as Marcus’. She was Drakkon, the youngest Marcus knew of.
“I never thought I would meet another Aqua,” she said, looking him over from foot-to-crown. “My father was one, but he died when I was born.”
Marcus sniffed the air. She was born human and she was a virgin. Marcus scowled at him. “Why would you bring her to me? I don’t want her.”
Thomas arched his brow at him and then at Sam, then smiled again.
“I know. I brought her here because I heard the music two days ago. Others may have, as well. I knew now was the right time. Tabitha would be safe around you. But it isn’t her who I bring to you, Marcus. It’s him. This is Garion. He is an orphan.”
Marcus looked at the boy and felt a slight tug on his heartstrings.
Thomas went to the child and bent to lift him in his arms. “Say hello to Marcus, Garion.”
The boy popped his thumb into his mouth and waved at Marcus with the other. Marcus thought he had the most incredibly beautiful eyes he’d had ever seen. Like his hair, they were light golden brown with black rings circling each amber iris.
“Thomas?”
“Yes, he is Drakkon, Marcus. A Gold. The first one we’ve seen in six hundred years.”
Garion popped his thumb out of his mouth. “I can fly. Wanna’ see?”
Marcus paled. He turned to Tomas. “I thought I was the last.”
“You were.”
“But if he can fly, then that means he’s only recently been transformed.”
Thomas shook his head but held a finger up, signaling for Marcus to wait after he put the child down. They all waited while Garion tried to unbutton his shirt with tiny, pudgy fingers.
“Would you like some help?” Tabitha offered.
The little boy shook his head. “I can do it.”
“He’s quite independent,” Tabitha advised with a carefully shielded smile.
“When did the Whites transform him?” Marcus asked.
“We didn’t.”
But Marcus had already turned his attention back to the boy. He smiled in triumph along with Garion when the last button was unfastened. Then, with a lot less effort than he’d used to rid himself of his shirt, Garion tore the Velcro fastener from his cotton pants and struggled out of them.
“What’s he doing?” Marcus laughed, glancing at Thomas. Certainly, the child didn’t need to
be totally naked to fly. Only the shoulder blades needed to be exposed.
“Just watch,” Thomas interrupted his thoughts, his silver eyes aflame while he stared down at Garion.
“Watch what…” But that was all Marcus could manage as he turned back to the boy and his mouth fell open. Behind him, he heard Sam and Ellie gasp. His own eyes grew wider with each passing second, then finally they stung with tears. Before him, where there had stood a perfect human boy only a moment earlier, sat a small Drakkon just as perfect in form.
Moved beyond words, Marcus lifted his hand to Garion’s head and touched the soft, teardrop-shaped scales of glimmering, iridescent gold. He was real. Marcus fell forward from his squatting position to his knees and ran his palm over the Drakkon’s flat head, then across the seven spikes that jutted upward just behind his crown and above his neck. But one hand was not enough to gather in the truth of what Marcus was seeing. With a soft catch at the back of his throat, he caressed the Drakkon’s face in both hands.
“Marcus.” Sam came to join him, bending to the small Drakkon in front of them. “He’s a dragon. A real dragon.”
Marcus heard the wonder in her voice and nodded, smiling at her tears. This Drakkon was real. But how?
Want to see me fly now? Garion probed Marcus’ mind and asked.
In a moment, please. Marcus breathed, but just barely. I haven’t seen another Drakkon in so long, Garion. I would like to just look at you, if that’s all right?
Huge, luminously gold eyes stared at Marcus. Garion nodded.
“How is this possible, Thomas?” Marcus finally tore his eyes away from the miracle in front of him, complete with claws, neatly folded wings, and a short, spaded tail.
“I don’t know. Patrick has known about him for a very long time. He’s been searching, and when he couldn’t find him, he assumed you had found the egg first and hid it with your hoard. But I found it three years ago, in the jungles of Madagascar. I’ve been hiding him since he hatched. It’s been painstaking keeping my thoughts of him from the others. He can transform back and forth without the aid of any amber. We can discuss all the possibilities later. For now, all I need to know is if the boy and Tabitha can stay here with you?”
“Me?” Marcus rose to his feet and faced the White. The thought of watching a Drakkon grow, just of seeing one again, was almost too much for him to bear. Why would Thomas trust such a rare treasure with him? “Why me?”
“Because someone needs to protect him. Someone strong—with wings.”
So, this little one was the treasure Padgora wanted so desperately. “You knew I would say aye, Thomas. But I could have done better protecting him as Drakkon.”
“Perhaps,” Thomas agreed. “But you wouldn’t be able to kill Patrick as a Drakkon. You’d be shot down in the skies before you got near him.”
“You let them transform me so that I could kill Patrick?”
“Yes,” Thomas answered honestly. “And because you’re the only Drakkon strong enough to fight Patrick and live if he tries to take Garion from you before you kill him. You’re also the only Drakkon alive who truly understands what we’ve lost as a race. You won’t let us lose the last one.”
Marcus turned again to Sam while she cautiously lifted a finger to Garion’s head. He didn’t want to leave her…but his scales, his strength…
“Patrick is the only White who knows the workings of the Phoenix Amber,” he said softly. “If I kill him, I will forever remain a man.”
Sam tore her eyes away from the small Drakkon in her solar and looked at him, knowing what he desired above all else. She turned away without a word.
Marcus had never felt so torn in all the centuries he’d lived.
“We cannot lose him,” Thomas continued, pulling his attention back. “He is our greatest treasure.”
Their greatest treasure. Relief flooded through him that it wasn’t Sam, the White wanted. “The treasure Patrick thinks I already have,” Marcus thought aloud. He didn’t wait for Thomas to answer but looked at him. “What does Patrick mean to do with him?”
“He wants to take his essence. With it, he can transform at will like the boy can.”
Marcus grinded his teeth. “Garion would have to be dead to take his essence.”
“I know.”
Transforming at will—Marcus could see why Patrick would want him. If the White possessed such power…Marcus looked down at the small Gold. If he killed Patrick, he’d be condemned to remain a man, possibly for centuries…without Sam. If he refused to help, Patrick would kill the boy and live out his days as a Drakkon. “I won’t let anyone near him.”
“Then you accept?”
Marcus looked at Sam again. He longed to touch her face, to take her back to his cave and pretend Thomas had never arrived. But they were here and he needed to make a decision. He’d be giving up ever going back. “Sam, I…”
Her huge beautiful eyes poured over him. “Do what your heart tells you, Marcus. Garion is welcome to stay.”
He didn’t know what his heart wanted anymore. To let Garion die…
Marrkiya, cor fra blyss aprecide?
Marcus smiled at the boy and at the beautiful sound of their language. Aye, Garion, you can fly now. He watched in sincere delight when the small dragon took flight.
“Aye, Thomas, I accept. For now.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Garion continued to fly for the next two days, landing only to eat, which was the only time his 6-foot wingspan wasn’t breaking something. Sam didn’t mind the ear-piercing sound of glass shattering, as a matter of fact, she was quite proud of herself that she was handling the whole thing so well.
Her quiet, neat little world was falling apart with each new thunderous crash and she was still happy. For despite his claims to want nothing more than to return to being a Drakkon, Marcus had found every opportunity to remain a man. He made passionate love to her each night in bed, then shared the tales of his life with her. All ten centuries of it so far.
They’d laughed about Eric and men like him, and barely breathed gazing into each other’s eyes. He might not like being a man, but he did it so well, leaving her aching every morning. She’d watched him in those early hours, sprawled out beside her like some magnificent bear snoring into his pillow, her heart in her eyes. He hadn’t told her he loved her again since Thomas had arrived with Garion, since he’d made love to her and claimed her virginity.
But his gaze still followed her every movement whenever she was in his sight. There was more to his hungry eyes now. There was softness for her, as if the scales that had covered him for so long were falling away. He was reluctant to let them go. She could see it in his brooding scowl. As if every time he looked at her made him feel more like a man and he was unsure about how it made him feel.
She alone had the power to tighten his muscles, make him hard. Then softened him with a smile. He desired her as a man, wanted to devour her in his arms with his mouth, not his teeth. She rejoiced that although her scent was gone, he grew more insatiable for her the more he was with her.
Did he love her? Did he even know what love was? Would he leave her when all this was over?
I’ll always remain in your life, Sam.
She looked up to where he was outside, working on the other side of her roof now. Oh, but it was nice to be dry in the rain.
She hadn’t believed he’d leave her. But she hadn’t considered that he might stick around as a Drakkon until after he’d confided in her last night that there might be a way to save Garion without killing Patrick immediately. He wanted his dragon body back. She didn’t. She wasn’t stupid. He could eat her!
Great, I’ll be the only chick in town with her own pet Drakkon following her around.
Is a chick a pet? He sounded vexed in her mind. Because I am not.
She tuned him out and headed toward the kitchen, needing coffee. Despite all the clatter around the castle, her writing was coming along nicely.
“I promise to pay for whateve
r he breaks.”
She turned to smile at Thomas White. She’d grown fond of him as the days had passed. He adored Garion and she thought Marcus might even be coming around.
Something crashed down the hall, followed by Tabitha and Ellie’s frantic voices.
“Although, if he keeps this up…” Thomas closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I may have to tap into Marcus’ treasure since the man is his guardian after all.”
“What kind of treasure does he have? Like…a mountain of jewels or something?”
“Or something,” Thomas answered with a wink.
She wasn’t going to get anything out of him. According to Ellie’s book, Drakkon treasures were sacred. One did not steal a Drakkon’s treasure without losing his essence. Even speaking of another’s hoard could be considered war.
“Coffee?”
“No tea?” Thomas asked, then smiled. “You must be from the States.”
She nodded, trying to keep her past from his thoughts. She wanted to forget it. She was ready to let it all go.
Thomas’s grin softened, then deepened again when she blushed. “You’ve managed to keep Marcus in one place longer than a se’nnight. And now I understand how. You are…”
Sam smiled, not really listening anymore. She looked past him at Marcus’ enormous aqua wings filling her window. She watched them furl behind him until they were gone, and then, so was he.
The back door opened and he stepped inside, bringing the cold with him. He went directly to Thomas and without pause, clasped him by the collar and turned him around to face him.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Marcus!” Sam held up her hands.
He didn’t blink. He dipped his head slightly and scored his eyes over Thomas’s flesh like fire from his lungs. “Don’t make her answer for you.”
“Marcus! Stop it this instant!” Sam shouted and stomped her foot. He finally looked at her. She didn’t care if his gaze was darker than a storm. “Let him go!”
