by S. A. Ravel
"As soon as you bring Sanaa and the baby here."
At noon Ronin still wasn't convinced the sham of an imprint quest was necessary, but considering that he was being driven into the desert in Kane's pickup, it was probably too late to change his mind. Just as well. Backing out of the ceremony would only start another round of arguments with Sanaa.
By now, the dark walker would have realized the limits of his defenses. Half a dozen wards and trinkets were hidden around his property, but they had limits. The more general the task, the weaker the charm's powyr. A horde of minions could easily overwhelm them all. Leaving Sanaa alone at the house was a calculated risk.
Kane stopped the truck on an indistinguishable patch of dirt road and climbed out of the cab.
Ronin climbed down from the bed of the truck. "Where the hell are we?"
The skinwalker shrugged. "Don’t know, that's the point. The quest is complete when you find your way back home."
"When does it start?" The sooner he could be done with this and back in the village the sooner he could make sure his woman and child were all right.
Hmm. My woman.
The thought sprang to Ronin's mind so readily that he forgot it wasn't technically true yet. No matter how many times visions of her naked, back arched in pleasure as he ran his tongue over her caramel skin–
Damn it, not now!
Kane passed him a brown leather satchel. "Everything you need is in there. Pipe, dream flower, and a bottle of water."
"You're sending me into the desert at high noon with water and weed?" If he weren't a dragon and powerful wizard, Ronin would have sworn the Elders were trying to kill him.
Kane shrugged. "If it were easy, it wouldn't prove your worth."
"Again, I don't see how getting high in the desert is going to prove anything."
"It proves that you give a shit about my cousin and what she wants. That you aren't just going to disappear when this is all over."
Ronin glanced back in the direction of the village–where he assumed the village was anyway. Sanaa and his child waited for him there, surrounded by people who claimed to be friends. More than that, family. If Kane wasn't convinced Ronin planned to live up to his obligations, Sanaa wouldn't be either.
Maybe a few hours alone in the desert was exactly what he needed. If the hot sun couldn't fry the desire out of his brain, nothing would.
The skinwalker must have sensed his renewed conviction because he continued. "Bastian makes it sound like a bigger deal than it is. Just find someplace comfortable to sit, spark up, and wait."
"Wait for what?"
"If you were one of us you would be waiting for an image. The first animal image that pops into your head. But since you’re already a dragon...."
"I'm supposed to sit in the desert staring at swirling rocks until sundown."
"I knew you were a smart guy," Kane folded his arms across his chest and smirked. "I made this mix especially for you. It should give you some clarity. Worst case scenario just wait until you come down then shift and fly back."
"I figured that would be breaking the rules."
Kane glanced over his shoulder as he climbed back into the truck. "Why? It proves you have an imprint, doesn't it?"
Ronin smirked to himself. He had to admit, the skinwalker was beginning to grow on him. The spirit quest, on the other hand, was a pain in the ass the second Kane drove away. It didn't escape his notice that the ordeal was as much an endurance trial as a test of worth. But he was no sniveling skinwalker youth playing it tough.
Finding a comfortable spot to sit was simple enough, but choking down the dream flower was another matter. Ronin coughed up twice as much smoke as he inhaled. He hadn't smoked so much as a cigarette since his college days.
Back then he hadn't even known about his dragon blood. One night a sassy brunette with a curvy body to match walked into the bar where he worked. Evette, with her amber skin and a fiery temper. Bam! That first Heat had been pure lava running through his veins and straight down to his cock. They spent hours naked in bed, dropping important details whenever they came up for air.
She taught him what little she knew about the world of powyr. The genes were diluted in her blood, but there was the ubiquitous one drop in her veins. Not enough for her to shift, more than enough to send him into Heat.
He married her the month they met and they had three years together. The best of his life. Then a drunk driver on back country road fucked the whole thing up.
For twenty years, all he had was the memory of Evette to get him through the Heat cycles. With liberal doses of aspirin and dips in chilled lakes. Adad’s spells saved him when simple measures didn’t help. In all those years of conventions and signings and adoring readers, Ronin had never been tempted. Not until Sanaa begged his favor.
The wind kicked up, whistling as it blew past Ronin's ears. He could swear he heard it whisper, "Then why did you send her away?"
Evette.
Someone sat down next to him, but he wouldn't turn his head to look. He didn't need to see Evette to know she was there, but turning to empty space might well drive him insane. “If you were her, you would already know the answer to that."
She laughed. Even her laugh was the same. "Twenty years and you're still as much of a dumbass as you've always been.”
He snorted. "And you've still got a smart-ass mouth."
"You used to say it was one of my best features." Her tone rose the way it always did when she pretended to be offended.
"It was." He brought the pipe to his lips again, inhaling the velvety, acrid smoke. "I miss you like hell, Evette."
She didn't answer for a while. "I know, but that's not why you sent her away."
"How would you know? You're not even here."
Evette reached out, brushing her fingers along the back of his hand. There was a time such a simple touch would have ignited the fire of his Heat, but he felt no arousal. Only the same gnawing sadness he felt every day since Evette died.
Ronin turned to look at her. He half expected her to have the shimmering appearance of a spirit, but she was as solid as the ground they sat on. She looked exactly the way she had on the day they went to the courthouse, down to the cream sun dress she pulled out of the closet at his insistence. Every bride deserved to wear white on her wedding day, no matter how hastily arranged.
Evette was right, of course, but then she always was. The memory of her didn’t make him push Sanaa away. It was guilt. Pure raw guilt at the notion that he let himself be weak for another woman. That was Evette's right. He'd said as much during their vows.
"I think you're forgetting the "till death do us part" bit, baby. I've been dead a long time."
The world over Evette's shoulder swirled, merging into a fabric of colors too intense for Ronin to separate. What the hell had Kane put in that dream flower mix?
He fought to focus, blinking his eyes to keep the blurriness at bay. "Why are you telling me that? I already know it."
“But you're sitting out here in the desert getting high. You've been telling yourself that it's to help that girl and her baby, but it sounds like a mighty convenient way to run away."
Ronin clamped his eyes shut as his body weaved. He must have been sitting by that bush for hours. He hadn't taken so much as a sip of the water Kane left for him. Hadn't eaten since breakfast with Sanaa.
Sanaa.
She was back at the community center with the Elders. She and the baby were safe.
"Do you really think a bunch of old men and dried up crones can protect a dragon spawn? From a dark walker?"
No. He hadn't believed it for a second. But he'd let his need for Sanaa cloud his judgment. Ronin stumbled to his feet, a decision he regretted immediately when the Earth gave way and he tumbled to the dirt.
The laughter that fell from Evette's lips wasn't right. It was cruel and mocking. Evette had a sharp tongue, but there wasn’t a mean bone in her body.
Ronin groaned and rolled over onto his back
. He forced his eyelids open, but the woman wouldn't come into focus. "Who are you?"
"Just wanted a look at my would-be son-in-law."
His heart raced as he struggled to his knees. It wouldn't speed his metabolism up enough to process the dream flower out of his system. Damn it, why hadn't he left the stuff untouched. It wasn't as if Kane or the Elders would have known any different.
"You were never Evette."
Niabe shook her head, letting her long black locks swing wildly around her. "Sorry to disappoint, darling. It did sound like you and that woman had unfinished business. And believe me, I know all about unfinished business."
Ronin struggled to his feet. He needed to shift and end this once and for all, but changing into his dragon form when he was this disoriented was too dangerous. Even if she didn't capitalize on the few seconds of vulnerability, he didn't know where he was...or how many residences might be nearby.
"We have some of our own. I've been meaning to rip the flesh from your skull.”
"Tsk tsk. Too bad you let that idiot Ramon talk you into a fool's errand so he could save face. After your performance last night, I thought you were smarter than that. Almost worthy of my daughter."
Ronin sprang forward, reaching for the bitch's throat but connecting with empty air.
"Turns out you are as big a fool as the rest of them. Did you really think I would get within your reach, dragon?"
The breeze kicked up again, this time Ronin was sure he heard a whistle traveling on the air current. He definitely heard the blood-curdling shriek that sounded in response. Dozens of them. Hundreds. Pounding against the ground and flapping in the air. All headed in his direction.
And over it all, Ronin could hear Niabe laughing. Why shouldn't she? He was supposed to be Sanaa's strongest protector, her champion, and he was going to die alone in the desert, high on herbs mixed with heaven-knew-what else.
He fell forward and braced his hands against the ground, letting his fingers dig into the dirt. If the bitch was going to send her pitiful army to take him out, he sure as hell wasn't going to make it easy
A mighty roar erupted from Ronin's lips, growing in intensity and volume as the transformation began. Fabric and skin gave way as his bones cracked and lengthened. His shoulder blades tore through his skin, sending waves of pain through him as his wings started to take shape.
The hell spawn didn't wait. They swarmed him, clawing and biting at every inch of him they could reach until his scales hardened enough to protect him. Still, they came, biting at his eyes and the sensitive skin of his lips.
Ronin roared, shooting a jet of fire from his throat. But his dragon heart wasn't burning through the dream flower fast enough. The black demons blurred in and out of his sight.
He flapped his wings, rising into the air, putting distance between him and the smallest hell spawn. The bat demons followed him. They flew around him in circles, pecking at him as they dodged his flames.
A piercing shriek sounded in the distance. The sound waves vibrated in his ears as they slammed against his body. Lightning crashed around them, though there were no storm clouds in the sky to cause them. The call of a Thunderbird.
Sanaa.
She flew headlong into the fray, slamming her feathered body into four bat demons and turning to release another sonic wave on the tiny hell spawn on the ground. For one moment in the chaos, the Thunderbird came into view. The mauve hues of the New Mexico sunset glittered off her golden feathers, raining beams of light onto the limp, black bodies. She zoomed through the air, flapping her wings to gather speed as she dodged the winged demons. Their magic was clumsy, their bodies held together by the Dark Walker's blood and rage.
Their leathery appendages and dripping beaks were no match for Sanaa's strong wings and razor-sharp talons.
She was glorious. Magnificent.
His mate, defending their family.
7
Sanaa heard the laughter again. The cold, cruel sound from her mother's lips rang through the air, though Niabe was nowhere to be seen. That was a bad sign. She scanned the area for Ronin, and found him squatting on the ground near a flaming bush, still in his dragon form.
He couldn't have known, but skinwalkers never sent a perspective youth on their spirit quest undefended. Their numbers were too small, each member of the tribe too valuable to risk even one inexperienced child. The blood relative who served as their representative to the Elders also served as their guard on the quest.
Kane had driven a suitable distance away, then changed into his eagle imprint. But a simple bird of prey was no match for the raging army of blood spawn. A tripping dragon was no match for them either.
If she had arrived even a few minutes later than she had….
Sanaa pushed the thought away with revulsion. Ronin was her guardian, her protector. He had to survive. She flew down to him, letting her powerful claws crunch dead brush and dirt as she landed.
The red-scaled dragon clung to the ground as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the Earth. His eyes darted back and forth as if he expected the limp, black bodies that surrounded them to rise and attack again. Even Sanaa remained on alert, glancing at the bodies that hadn't been blown away in her sonic wave.
He had to understand now. Niabe was cunning and ruthless. She would find them in even the smallest moment, even the briefest time of respite. Her attacks would grow more violent, more calculated until she finally found a way around their defenses. One person could not repel her. Two people could not defeat her. Only the blood of their child would satisfy her brutal appetite.
If the surprise attack didn't convince him of the danger nothing would.
One look at his eyes, those brilliant-orange irises that flashed with fire even in his confusion, told Sanaa that he finally understood. Genuine relief washed over her for the first time in months. The Dragon of the Mountain was finally on her side.
She leaned forward and brushed the feathers of her cheek against his flank. The touch sent tendrils of warmth through Sanaa's body. They needed to get back to the village. Back to their girl.
Ronin must have sensed her thoughts. He hauled himself to his feet and shook his head firmly as if to clear it one last time. Then he flapped his wings and launched himself into the air. Sanaa followed and guided him toward the west. Toward the village.
Of all the mile-stones the Bloodbones celebrated in a year, Sanaa loved the coming of age ceremonies most. The Elders and adults of the tribe would wait beside the well in the center of town. The questers approached the town in their imprint form, often to a chorus of cheers and whoops if the animal was particularly impressive.
There wouldn’t be much ceremony surrounding Ronin's spirit walk. He was already a man grown, and not a skinwalker. His quest was a formality, a peace offering between them and the Elders. She didn't expect to find the Elders or anyone but Kane waiting for their return.
The chaos they found when they returned to the village took her by surprise. The Elders gathered around the well as always, most of them in their animal forms. Janna and Bastian--who were a raven and wolf respectively--must have gotten the worst of the attack because they were the only ones in their human form. Blood and black liquid oozed from scratches on their arms. The mountain lions–Omar and Elena–sat beside the Scholar and the Seer, lapping at their wounds to draw the poison from them.
Dozens of guppy demons lay limp on the ground, blood dripping from their unseeing eyes. A massive grizzly bear, Ramon, stood among them surveying the damage.
Sanaa released her imprint and ran the rest of the way. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was faster to fly, but she wanted her hands at the ready to hold her, no doubt terrified, daughter.
Ronin must have had the same thought. He ran past Sanaa, his long muscular legs giving him the advantage of speed.
"Where is she?" he demanded.
Ramon jerked his snout toward the covered well. The thick muscles of his neck began to shrink and pull into thei
r normal position as he released his imprint.
Sanaa brushed past him and tugged the wood planks out of the way. Kane braced himself against the slick walls, knees locked in place to push his back firmly against the bricks. He cradled the baby in his hands, cooing softly to calm her.
"Your instincts were right," Bastian said through gritted teeth. He’d fought hardest to keep her in the village when Kane called to say there was trouble. Now he wouldn't be able to call his imprint for hours, maybe days, while his system processed the venom.
Sanaa had zero desire to point out the obvious to him. It was enough that everyone was safe. That they had beaten Niabe's plans once again. She reached into the well and plucked her daughter from Kane's hands.
The dragon reached into the well to help Kane climb out. "You were watching?"
Kane laughed. "They don't much send kids on spirit quests unmonitored anymore. The point was for you to think there was danger, not to really be in danger."
"Forgive our deception, Ronin." Ramon said. "And our reluctance. Niabe's attack this evening has proven she will not stop."
"Then you'll grant absolution?" Ronin asked.
Ramon clasped his hands in front of him, a gesture which gave him a regal air, despite his nudity. Tribe members stepped out of their homes and gathered nearby. The remaining Elders, now all in their human forms, rose and took the same stance as their leader.
"The dark walker Niabe Chavez is lost to us," the Chief said. "She has committed crimes against her family and against the Bloodbone Nation which cannot be forgiven. Your desire for vengeance is just. You may deal with her in whatever way you deem fit."
Sanaa had expected to feel relief when she finally heard those words, but she didn't feel anything. Getting permission wasn't enough. They still had to find Niabe and kill her, and they were running out of time to do it. Her attacks were growing in frequency and intensity. It was only a matter of time before she broke through their defenses.
Ronin reached around her to stroke the baby's cheek. He knew the danger now as well as Sanaa did, but for the first time since they met, there was no air of conflict around him. Years disappeared from his face as the ever-present scowl faded to a smile. He watched their daughter's response to his touch, a calm smile coming to his lips.
