Pursuing Flight: A Dragon Spirit Novel: Book 4

by C. I. Black

  “Okay,” Raven said, her voice breathy.

  Diablo ground his teeth. Her and Grey’s fear remained the only emotions in the room — and, thank the Mother, at a fraction of the force of Nero’s and his human’s — but it still set his beast on edge.

  “Okay.” She tossed the sterile wipe to the floor beside her, grabbed a towel, and dabbed at Nero’s back. “Okay.”

  Her fear didn’t diminish.

  “Okay.

  Mother of All. “Stop saying okay,” Diablo snapped.

  “She’s just trying to get her bearings.” Grey adjusted his grip on Becca and hooked his forearm under her legs, holding her cradled against his chest. “It’s all just a little shocking.”

  “You God damn think? The dugga of the Asar Nergal is fucking inamorated with a human mage.” And your fear is making me want to punch someone. He glared at Grey. “How long will he be hurt?”

  “I have no idea,” Grey said. “I only read about it in one of the Handmaiden’s books. She’d been wondering if, in our new human state, being inamorated was even possible.”

  “Fucking wonderful.” The longer Nero was out of commission, the greater the chance the problems at Court would make an appearance. That’s what they’d been doing down there in the first place. Raven had needed to stay near the new intake, who had yet to regain consciousness even long enough to give her his name, and he and Grey had joined her to figure out what the hell to do about everything.

  “At least we can still soul bond.” Raven rolled Nero onto his back, the towel still in place behind him, and checked the hole in his chest.

  “That’s not a good thing,” Diablo growled. It was a fucking mental illness and everyone around him was falling victim.

  “It is what it is,” Grey said.

  Diablo’s beast snarled. “It is what it is?” He jerked toward Grey, but managed to wrench himself into stillness instead of crossing the remaining feet to the silver drake. “She’s soul sick. She’s one of Zenobia’s broken toys, and she’s going to destroy this puzur.”

  “You don’t know that.” Raven glared at him.

  “You’re willing to bet Mia and Jeff and Tyler and all the others’ lives on that?” Was she willing to bet her own life on that, because he sure as hell wasn’t.

  “He’s inamorated. He doesn’t have a choice.” Grey’s expression turned fierce, and his love for his inamorata flooded Diablo. Grey would do anything, including sacrifice himself, to protect his soul mate. The emotion defied logic. It really was a mental illness.

  “We need a plan,” Diablo said. A way out. Mother, a way to save Nero when his human succumbed fully to the soul sickness.

  “I agree,” Grey said. “First, let’s get these two in a bed. Is there anything big enough down here for two?”

  “Because they’re in luuuuv?” Diablo’s beast shuddered.

  The muscles in Grey’s jaw twitched, but his emotions softened toward Diablo — not the response the beast wanted.

  How the hell was he going to get a fight if he couldn’t rile anyone up?

  Not fucking now, he hissed at himself. Just hold your shit together long enough to figure out how to deal with Nero being inamorated.

  “They should be together so it’s easier for Nero’s soul magic to deal with taking on her injury. If either one of them was conscious, I’d suggest getting him into a bath.”

  “Running water is better for water drakes,” Raven said.

  “I’m sure Nero has a tub with jets,” Grey said. “But again. Both unconscious. It’ll be easier to just put them in a bed while we figure out what we’re going to do about this… development.”

  “And by development, you mean fucking insanity,” Diablo said.

  “For the love of—” Raven sat back on her heels. “Pick up Nero and gate him to the room with the queen bed. I want him down here so I can keep an eye on everyone.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” Diablo picked Nero up, making sure to also hold the towel against his doyen’s back, and gated to the room at the end of the hall. It had a queen bed because sixty years before, they’d rescued twins with a linked earth magic and there had been separation issues when their earth magic had first awakened.

  He set Nero on the bed and forced himself to the far side of the room before he could grab the black drake and shake him. What was he thinking, letting himself get inamorated? It put everyone at risk. Except Becca knew that. She probably knew a whole lot of things, including all of Nero’s secrets. As a telepath and with the bond of being inamorated, she was probably in Nero’s head. No, she was stuck in his head.

  That had been clear from the emotions pouring from her. She’d been terrified she couldn’t control her magic. She’d been terrified of magic. But nothing had been more terrifying than realizing Nero was willing to sacrifice himself and everything he held dear for her. And with all that fear, Diablo couldn’t tell if Becca was inamorated back. That would just suck, since Nero’s emotions had been clear. His soul had chosen her. But he’d also been confused, as if there’d been something wrong about being inamorated with Becca.

  Yeah, well, there was everything wrong with being inamorated with the human. Especially if the human wasn’t inamorated back. Even worse if that human went crazy.

  Grey strode through the doorway and laid Becca on the bed beside Nero. Raven followed with the towels and the first aid kit.

  “At least her aura is strong,” Grey said, setting Becca’s hand on Nero’s.

  A wave of calm from Nero washed through Diablo, as if just that simple contact was enough to ease some of the turmoil.

  “Strong aura means strong magic.” Diablo shifted, uncomfortable with Nero’s comfort. “She’s not a natural. That means it’ll be harder for her to accept reality.”

  “Strong aura might also mean that even dragons with the ability to see the difference between humans and drakes might not be able to tell she’s human,” Grey said.

  Raven set the extra towels on the bed beside Nero and put the first aid kit on the bedside table. “I didn’t know you could see the difference.”

  “I can’t.” Grey tapped his temple. “Read that in one of the Handmaiden’s books, as well.”

  “Was there anything in those books about how to uninamorate a dragon?” That would solve all their problems.

  Raven glared at Diablo. “You’d really take this away from him?”

  “To save him and all of us when she loses it? Hell, yes.”

  Grey’s expression darkened, and a wave of danger and sadness billowed from him. “You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

  “I understand that if any dragon sees Nero with that woman and realizes she’s human, he’s dead. Regis won’t care about saving his soul. He’ll send whoever his assassin of the week is and kill him.”

  “I doubt Nero will be taking her to Court.” Raven checked the wound on Nero’s chest, and her emotions turned to relief. Guess the wound was finally sealing shut. It wouldn’t be long before the internal injuries were taken care of and his soul magic had burned through the sedative keeping him unconscious. Which only brought them back to their original problem.

  “Dragons don’t just live at Court,” Diablo said. “Is he going to take her to his home in Rome? Sure, a third of our coterie knows about the puzur, but another third thinks he’s a Traditionalist and has given Regis his full support.”

  “If Regis gets his way, there’ll be very few dragons living in the human world,” Grey said.

  “That’s a whole other problem, and we aren’t going to figure anything out right now.” Raven squared her shoulders. Now that Nero was out of immediate danger, her relief was being overwhelmed with exhaustion. She’d been helping Anaea with her out-of-control magic for almost two weeks now, which had to be stressful enough, but yesterday she’d had an all-day vigil with the new intake who, for some reason, wasn’t waking up. And now she had one of Zenobia’s victims to save because their doyen was inamorated with her. And there wasn’t a
damned thing Diablo could do to fix any of that.

  His beast growled and churned.

  And no, killing Becca wouldn’t really solve anything, as much as that seemed like the easiest answer.

  Mother, he really needed to hit something.

  26

  Becca woke to silence. Glorious, peaceful silence. The pain in her head and chest was gone, and so were the voices… voices she shouldn’t have been able to hear in the first place.

  A hint of panic squeezed around her heart. She stiffened, and the person beside her — no, it wasn’t just some person, it was Nero — shifted in his sleep, sliding his arm around her and drawing her against him, her back to his chest. His warmth seeped into her body and spread to every cell, easing the panic and filling her with a calm certainty and — if she was being honest with herself — a sizzling desire she wasn’t sure she wanted to keep ignoring. It churned her insides, made her breath hitch, and charged the calm warmth into sudden sultry need.

  The panic over her insane reality and the fear she wouldn’t be strong enough to fight for herself and her friends vanished. All that remained was the alluring feel of his body tucked tight against her back and his arm holding her secure.

  His warm breath feathered over the back of her neck, scorching need through her veins to her core. There were no voices, no fear, only him, and his essence magically anchoring her within herself.

  Yes. Magic. He was magic and not just in how she craved him. There was something about him and his soul that, if she accepted it, steadied her. Told her that she was all right.

  Except the memory of them appearing in the kitchenette flashed into her mind. He’d been willing to sacrifice himself and everything he held dear just to save her. That wasn’t all right. He barely knew her, and just existing with her mental connection to him put lives in danger. The devil had said… thought?… jeez, did it matter? He’d said that Nero was inamorated, but she didn’t know what that meant—

  And yet, a part of her did know.

  Soul bound. Forever.

  The thought drew another shiver, and God help her, it wasn’t one of fear.

  She eased from his embrace, not wanting to face the truth about his condition, and the whisper of voices flooded her head again. She concentrated on turning her mental volume knob down. Nero groaned but didn’t wake, and the voices dimmed.

  What were the odds she was getting better at that?

  She bit back a sigh. She could only hope. It had been agonizing, back at the abandoned factory. She’d fought to stay focused on her thoughts while everyone else had screamed at her, but she’d been afraid if she tried to shut them up she’d hurt Nero. The sooner she figured out how to disconnect herself from him, the better.

  But that thought made her chest ache. He’d been the one steady voice inside her when everything else had gone crazy. He was the calm in the middle of her storm, and she didn’t want to lose that. Except she had to. She endangered everything he cared about, and she now had proof he’d sacrifice it all to save her. She just had no idea if she’d be able to keep it together without him.

  She slid out of bed and hugged herself, her hoodie stiff and crusty with her blood.

  Some soldier she was. She needed to stand on her own. Only then could she be an asset to a partnership… which they didn’t have… because they barely knew each other… and because she had to get as far away from him as possible to protect his family. She might not have a family anymore, but she knew what it was like to have one. It was precious and deserved to be safe. She could do that for him, and them… and for herself.

  She had to. She also had to get her shit together, returned to the factory and find Werner… and if he hadn’t escaped from Stanbury’s men, she had to return to the facility for him, Glenn, and the others — she wasn’t even going to contemplate the possibility that Werner was dead. That would mean she’d failed at everything and she couldn’t accept that.

  A soft feminine voice said something from down the hall. Raven. She had to be talking to the guy in the bed again. Maybe she’d have some insight into how to control this — God, Becca couldn’t believe she was going to think it — this magic. In the very least, maybe Raven had a way to not break down in a panic when magic reared its dangerous head and things got stressful, something Becca could use when she headed out on her own to find Werner.

  A shudder swept through Becca, but the certainty from Nero’s presence within her billowed and soothed it. Even the other voices softened a bit. She mentally clung to his presence, a lifeline she needed but knew eventually she’d have to give up. Sooner would probably be better for everyone.

  Who was she kidding? Being on her own made her even more of a danger to his family. Which only made everything more complicated. As much as she wanted to belong, she didn’t and didn’t know if she ever would.

  She headed into the hall. It was the same one as before, just this room was a few doors down from her previous one.

  Raven said something else and another feminine voice responded. Guess she wasn’t talking to the guy in the bed. A hint of Raven’s presence flickered into Becca’s head. Raven sat at the table in the kitchenette, talking to another woman, still terrified for Nero’s sanity and that she wouldn’t be able to save Becca. The other woman, also afraid but holding herself together with a fierce determination, was trying to calm Raven but wasn’t certain what to say.

  Becca ducked into the closest room — the one with the unconscious guy in it — not ready to face anyone other than Raven. This other woman might not understand that Becca hadn’t meant to inamorate Nero. Hell, Becca had no idea how it had even happened, and she had no idea how to make him uninamorated. Everyone was afraid and angry over the situation, and it was all Becca’s fault, and God, all she wanted was to fix it, ensure his kids were safe, and rescue her friends.

  The guy in the bed groaned and jerked in his sleep. Light billowed around him, and sweat slicked his forehead.

  I’m sorry. This new voice — the guy in the bed’s voice — was a soft tenor, filled with pain.

  “It’s all right,” Becca said. And it might be for him, if she could just fix the situation with Nero so he wouldn’t risk his life for her.

  It’s not. I failed. I’m sorry. Please, he begged. End it.

  Becca’s throat tightened. His pain was overwhelming, a mix of physical agony and soul-deep grief, and she shifted toward him, drawn by his plea. She knew that grief. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the agony of his soul. She still saw that kid with the backpack, still heard that baby’s wail, and now felt the monsters clawing under her skin, tearing into her. She fully understood the pain that might drive someone to suicide. If Werner hadn’t taken her with him when he’d escaped, she’d have succumbed to her demons. But even if she’d been sure it was a nightmare, he’d given her a purpose.

  Please. End me.

  More light flared from the guy, and his body arched off the bed with convulsions. I’m sorry. So sorry. I deserve this.

  “No.” No one deserves this.

  But I made so many mistakes.

  We all make mistakes. Horrible mistakes. Mistakes that got people killed. Mistakes that could never be forgiven. She’d been awarded a medal for her mistake when all she’d been trying to do was save as many of her men as she could.

  We were so afraid. I was afraid. Another blast of light radiated from him, stronger than the last. I’m still afraid.

  So am I. Even if he wasn’t an unnaturally created mage like her, discovering the truth about the world had to be terrifying. Maybe together we won’t be so afraid.

  You don’t understand.

  Do I need to?

  The guy’s eyelids flew open, and his attention jumped to her as a ferocious power filled her mind. The weight of hundreds of years flooded her, and her pulse leapt. He wasn’t human. He wasn’t a naturally created mage, as Raven thought. He wasn’t even unnaturally created like Becca.

  He was a dragon.

  “You’
re a—”

  I’m not! he roared. Not anymore. I’m not—! He screamed, the gut-wrenching cry in her ears and in her head, and brilliant yellow light exploded around him, ten times more powerful than before. His body jerked, his back arching off the bed again for an agonizing heartbeat, then he started thrashing.

  I’ve got you. Becca scrambled to him and grabbed his shoulders. I’ve—

  White lightning slammed through her body, searing into every cell with a power stronger than the first time his magic had shot through her. Her breath caught in her throat and every muscle jerked taut. The dragon screamed, and so did she. Everyone in the building screamed. Everyone in the city started yelling— no, the country— no— more, so many more.

  27

  There were too many voices in Becca’s head. All of them shocked and confused, raging into a fire that was burning her up from the inside. Her legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor beside the guy— no, dragon in the bed, unable to breathe or move or think.

  Becca! Nero’s consciousness slammed to the forefront. He was jumping from the bed and burning with her.

  Someone yelled… in her head? Not in her head? She couldn’t tell. There was only the inferno consuming her and Nero’s desperation to get to her.

  I’m sorry, the dragon in the bed said. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—

  A hand grabbed her shoulder, and Raven’s thoughts exploded into Becca. The inferno leapt into the other woman. She screamed and a vortex of wind erupted around her.

  My magic— Raven gasped as she strained to yank it back, but it tossed the lamp and book off the nightstand and whirled them into the air. It just— All that power—

  More light flared from the dragon in the bed, and the voices in Becca’s head roared louder while the fire blazed hotter.