by A. W. Exley
“Nothing ventured nothing gained,” she muttered and thrust a hand through. She touched something. Warm. Dry. Scratchy like sandpaper. Then something licked along her hand and wrapped around her wrist, and she yelped.
fter some convincing and repeatedly stating it wouldn’t leave the ground, Nate and Sergei managed to cram the growing dragon into the carriage. After the long trip confined in the airship, Sergei chose to ride up top with the driver while Nate and Jackson climbed in. The men sat across from where the creature sprawled. He perked up and stuck his head out the open window, his tongue lolling on the wind as they trotted along darkened roads. They journeyed to the underground construction in the East End and closest to Stratford. Silently Nate hoped his hunch paid off. Since his connection to Cara via the heart was dead, he hoped the dragon’s link with her operated in a different fashion. If a dog could find a lost boy, then could a dragon find its buried mistress?
Brick met them on the roadside. He held aloft an electric lantern and another light for each man sat at his feet. “Clarence handed me the keys, we have full access to the site and a couple of sleds. The whole thing is iced over down there, it’s like a skating rink,” he said as they walked through the high metal gates that held back the curious public.
The entrance yawned before them like the gates to hell. Pitch black, the light only penetrated a few feet at a time. Two steam sleds sat with the engines idling. Plumes of smoke rose from the rear exhausts and mingled with the surrounding murk. A pole extended from the front of the sleds and held another lantern, giving a small circle of illumination.
The dragon shuffled forward and stared into the void.
“She’s down there, somewhere,” Nate said.
The creature turned to him, his eyes now spiralled with a kaleidoscope of vibrant reds and orange like a flickering fire. He squawked, flapped his wings and rose up on his haunches, scenting the air. He caught a nostril full of coal smoke and sneezed, sending him into a backward tumble with wings over his head.
Brick’s eyes widened, but he held his ground and waved the lantern at the animal. “That’s your bloodhound?”
Nate climbed into the lead sled. “He’ll find her. Just watch.”
Sergei took the seat next to Nate while Brick and Jackson followed behind. The dragon untangled itself and approached Sergei. Reaching over the edge of the sled, he laid his head on Sergei’s lap. The dragon master held out Cara’s chemise.
“Find your momma, little one.” He patted the triangular head.
The dragon took a deep draw of Cara’s scent and sat back. His eyes whirled with sparks like lava tumbling through his vision. Then he shook his head and ran off into the dark.
“And so the hunt begins.” Nate released the brake, and they lurched forward.
The lamps hanging from the front of the sleds lit the way as they descended deeper into the earth. The bottom of the tunnel was a frozen lake, and the light bounced back from the ice and cast a glow around a larger area. Moisture ran from the blockwork and froze before it met the ground, leaving strange icicle slivers, like leftover Christmas decorations.
The little dragon huffed and snorted, his triangular head swinging from side to side, searching for a scent. His feet scrabbled on the ice until he figured out that one downward wing stroke allowed him to skate across the surface. At times, the creature would stop and claw at the side of a tunnel, then abandon his hole and run, before stopping to sniff again. The deeper they moved, the more complete the brickwork became, the arch above held aloft by millions of individual rectangles.
They had travelled for over an hour, following the ring route under London, when the dragon squealed and took off. He flapped and glided a few feet before falling back to the surface, unable to gain altitude in the tunnel. His claws found no purchase on the slippery ice as the faster he tried to go, the more he slipped. He stared at his feet, peered into the dark, and then bent his knees and flapped his wings. With a push, he skated off into the inky blackness.
“He find her!” Sergei yelled as the dragon disappeared.
Nate didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled a lever and the sled jumped forward and picked up speed. The light on its pole swung from side to side as the sled bounced along. Ahead, the light picked out the dragon, stationary, his entire focus on the wall. He pressed his head flat to the brickwork as his nostrils flared.
They stopped and approached, holding the lights aloft. Nate ran his hand over the blockwork by the dragon, trying to find a secret door or anything to account for the animal’s sudden interest in this spot. The only thing he found was dripping water and a sad and lonely spider in a sodden web that had yet to succumb to the hellish cold.
“There’s nothing here,” Jackson said.
Nate sighed. One section of tunnel looked identical to the next. The exact same number of degrees to the curative of roof and wall. Millions of identical bricks lined the structure. They had followed this pattern for over an hour: the dragon honed in on a spot, they examined the brickwork, but found nothing. Was he wrong? Relying on a dragon for direction now seemed as useless as trying to navigate by the dead second heartbeat in his chest. Frustration ran under his skin and burst forth as he smacked his good hand into the wall.
“You wanna be careful doing that,” Jackson said. “You’re already stuffed one hand.”
He took a deep breath. He needed the dragon to find her, not stare at an unremarkable section of wall. “Mark the wall, we can circle round and return to this spot later.”
Jackson drew a large X with a piece of chalk, and they climbed back into their transport to carry on their inspection. He thought they would find another passage, a secret off shoot the Curator had dug into the main tunnel. Something to show the rahab travelled along this path. He wanted to dash his head on the side of the sled as disappointment slunk back up his throat.
Sergei called the dragon to follow, but he rose up on his haunches and blew out a fiery breath at the wall, incinerating the desperate spider. The dragon growled deep in his throat and spat flame again. Over and over, he spewed a fiery rain on the bricks.
A thud echoed down the tunnel as the dragon took a step back, charged, and butted his head against the wall. Nate’s gut sent a warning shot up to his brain. He was wrong, he had to trust the dragon’s instincts. He swore under his breath, pulled one lever hard toward him, and then spun the wheel. The sled skidded around in a circle and jumped over the ice.
The dragon’s thud was followed by a distinctly non-dragon cry. As the lanterns picked out the hatchling, they found him with his head wedged in a hole in the stonework that hadn’t been there a few minutes before. Charred and crumbled stones were littered around their bloodhound’s feet. The men leapt from the sleds and grabbed the lights. Another piece of stone wiggled free and hit the floor. The dragon squealed again and thrust his head deeper into the hole. His claws scrabbled at the debris, trying to reach something.
A muffled oath came from the other side. “Get your fat head out so I can escape.”
The dragon sat back on his haunches for approximately five seconds, then unable to wait, wedged his head back in the hole.
“He’s found her.” Nate dropped to his knees and pulled at the bricks, trying to work around the impatient dragon whose long claws scrabbled at the blockwork trapping his momma. His hand grazed Cara’s, and love flooded his body. Like hot water thrown on top of frozen, it heated his blood, and the ice of despair melted under its touch.
Then came a sob and one syllable, “Nate.”
“I have you,” he said and refused to relinquish her hand. He knelt on the ice as the other men worked on the bricks. Jackson appeared with a crowbar and levered one from above while Brick and Sergei caught them, before they fell on the lovers’ hands. While they worked, Cara shoved one book after another through the hole, which Nate tossed into the sled. Within a few minutes, the hole was big enough for him to pull Cara free.
Once Cara touched Nate’s chilled flesh, she coul
dn’t let go or stop the sobs in her throat. When her brain registered her ordeal was nearly over, she remembered the priceless books at her side. One by one, she fed them through the wall while unseen hands enlarged her escape route. As soon as they chipped away enough to fit her shoulders, she plunged headlong through, still holding tight to her physical anchor. Nate pulled her out and helped her to her feet. No words were spoken as he took her mouth in a devouring kiss and his arms held her tight against his chest.
She was wrong, there was lava on the other side and it ran through Nate. Her mind tried to figure out how his icy exterior held back the molten heat without melting and then rational thought dribbled around her feet as her nerves fired at his touch. He pushed her back against the cold brickwork, his arm protecting her from the damp and ice. She clung to the collar of his jacket and pressed into the length of him. Clothes frustrated her; she needed skin on skin to remind herself of his touch just as her lungs burned to hold his scent. Their tongues tangled in a fierce remembrance of each other, and only after several long minutes did Nate pull back a fraction.
Tears streamed down her face as he raised one hand to her cheek. “I thought I was alone.” She turned her face into his palm.
“So did I,” he whispered, his words brushing over her skin. He cupped her face, worry pulling at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t understand. You stand before me, I hold you in my arms, and still-” He touched his chest. “You are not here.”
She kissed his palm. “It’s blasted Mary Tudor.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Mary Tudor?”
“The Curator has been putting her tears in my bath water and pitcher. Her misery and sorrow masks the effect of Nefertiti’s Heart. When I woke up, the despair and loneliness nearly pulled me under. I cried for hours, then I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Poor woman, if what I carry is only a fraction of what she endured.”
He stroked her skin. “You are my humanity. I need the echo of you within me.”
She swallowed, wondering what he did without her and part of her didn’t want to know. A couple of loud coughs sounded from behind him, and for the first time, she remembered they were not alone. Her gaze found both her former and current bodyguards.
“Brick.” She smiled on seeing his face. “Good to see you’re not dead.”
The bodyguard smiled and waved. “Don’t remind him, I think he didn’t get around to it.”
Beside him stood Jackson. “Glad to have you back, doll. Life’s been dull without you.”
A smile crept over her face. “Oh, really? Bored already or have you run out of knots to try on Amy?”
Jackson coughed. “Don’t know what you’re rabbiting on about.”
“Yes, master,” she whispered and lowered her lashes. His mouth dropped open. She knew all about him and Amy, her friend became quite breathless extolling the liberation she experienced from Jackson’s dominance in the bedroom.
Jackson scowled. “I’ve changed my mind; I vote we shove her back through the hole.”
A low growl harmonised from two throats and rattled around the tunnel. The dragon rose up and fixed his gaze on Jackson as Nate tightened his grip on Cara.
The henchman threw up his hands. “That’s just great, two of you all cow eyed over her.”
She laughed. In the darkest moments, she never thought to tease Jackson again. “Be sure to punish Amy for tattling, then.”
“Take Brick and Sergei, go back to the house,” Nate said to Jackson without letting go of Cara. “Tell Lady Morton her granddaughter is safe, and set the men to watch the Stratford property.”
Cara ran her hands up his torso, trying to leech his heat. “I need a bath, to wash this off. Plus I am freezing, so make it a really, really hot bath.”
A gleam crept into his gaze. “I know just the place.”
The three large men tried to squash into the one sled, but as soon as the third climbed in and tried to sit down, the end one fell out the other side. Bickering mounted until they reached a solution, only two could have a seat.
“We’ll be along in a couple of hours,” Nate called out as they set off, Sergei clinging to the back. Then he took her hand to help her into the remaining sled.
The dragon leapt up at her and Cara spared one hand to scratch his head. “Hey boy, good work.”
He trilled and his eyes gleamed gold in the dark. Nate sat next to her as they chugged back through the ice-encrusted tunnel. The dragon ran alongside, his gaze would dart to Cara, then back to the expanse of black before them.
If her mind still dwelt in horror, she would have thought she relived a nightmare, running endlessly down a never-ending tunnel. But with Nate and the dragon on either side, she let the quiet wash over her. She tucked herself against Nate as best she could while he steered the sled. So many questions swirled through her mind on the long trip out of the earth, but she couldn’t ask them until she felt his heart beat through her body again.
Once outside, she took several deep breaths of cold, fresh air. Not the stuffy recirculated air of her prison, but the crisp air of freedom. The sky twinkled above. London still lay frozen in time. The dark no longer frightened her, now she could appreciate its beauty punctuated by distant stars.
“How long?” she asked.
“Twelve days.” Nate held her hand in his, staring at the point where their skin touched.
“Twelve? I thought it was only a week.”
His gaze flared along her body, the blue so intense, it burned. “He will pay for every minute, cara mia.”
Her throat constricted at the underlying pain in his words. She nodded and climbed into the carriage. She had to laugh as the dragon crammed himself in behind her, leaving scant room for Nate. How he had grown since she carried him in her arms out of Sergei’s home. The creature occupied most of the floor space and rested his head on Cara’s lap, staring up at her. She frowned at Nate. Without the undercurrent that normally ran between them, her body and soul needed physical contact. “Won’t you sit with me, please?”
“I can’t.” He clenched his fist, driving his nails into his palm. “It’s too hard. Once I touch you, I won’t be able to stop.” His voice shook. He swallowed, his words thick with emotion. “I need you, here.” He laid a hand over his chest and for one moment, in his gaze, she saw a boy lost in the dark and wrestling the monsters for possession of his soul. He blinked and looked away.
An ache wound its way through her bones. Their bond was like a third arm, you didn’t know you needed one until the day you sprouted it. Then it becomes so indispensable that when you lose that extra limb and become ordinary again, you have forgotten how to exist without it. “This reminds me of the day we first met. Sitting across from you in this carriage, trying to figure out what was going on behind that handsome face.”
He raised his gaze. “Same as now, cara mia. How much I want to touch you but I don’t want to frighten you with the depth of my need. Distract me. Please.” His jaw tightened as he ground out the words.
She pointed to the bandage around his knuckles. “What did you do to your hand?”
A smile ghosted over his lips. “While captive of Fraser’s, I tried to punch my way out.” He held up the damaged hand. “It didn’t work.”
She cast around for another subject and laid a hand on the triangular head resting on her legs. Perhaps, this was time to address the elephant in the room, or dragon in the carriage. “What’s his name?”
“Sergei named him Kirill. It means lord.”
“That’s going to give him an inflated sense of himself.” She scratched the eye ridges, and he closed his eyes and nestled into her lap. Then she fixed Nate with a hard gaze.
“You should never have brought him here. Only last year, you were in the Tower awaiting execution to protect him. We left him with Sergei so he could live his life undisturbed, and now you have him roaming the streets. What on Earth were you thinking?”
His gaze never left her face. “My only thought was of finding you
. With our bond suppressed, I relied on the dragon’s senses to do what I could not.”
A frown wrinkled her brow. “But you should never have risked his life and those of his kin.” Mary Tudor’s despair pressed down, and tears rolled down her cheeks at the thought of losing the magical beast. One tear dropped to his snout, and he snuffled at it. “Sergei is so protective, why did he go along with such a reckless plan?”
Nate glanced down at the head in her lap. “Because Kirill was dying in Siberia.”
“Is he sick?” She ran a hand over his neck. As they passed under streetlights, yellow flicked into the carriage and his scales were dull with none of their original lustre. Patches looked itchy and rough as though he suffered a bout of mange.
“Heart sick. He has been pining for you since we left and refuses to eat.”
She turned a more critical eye on the dragon, not that she had any basis of comparison apart from pictures in the books. He did look lean, his ribs outlined against his hide. “How is that possible? I only spent one night with him.”
A smile quirked Nate’s full lips. “Apparently this is why there are dragon masters but no mistresses. The males become very attached to any woman present at hatching. Although Sergei thinks his attachment began before that. You spent so much time with his egg on the Hellcat, he absorbed your scent, touch, and voice long before he broke free.”
She continued to caress Kirill. With his eyes closed, he seemed to doze in his awkward position. A noise vibrated up his throat that sounded suspiciously like a cross between a snore and a purr. “He still shouldn’t be here. I could have gone to Siberia to visit him. Men will seek his head like an exclusive game trophy to hang in their dining rooms.”
“Sergei asked for our help, but I didn’t want to tell you until I ascertained the seriousness of his condition. I was organising our trip to Russia when the Curator took you. We decided to rearrange our plans. Bringing Kirill here was a calculated risk, and Rachel had the original idea.”
