Nebulous: A Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy (Dragon's Creed Book 2)

by Katie French

  “This is it?” I asked. “This looks just like Summers Lake.”

  But Santiago was already opening the Mustang door and vaulting out. I glanced at the others behind me, but they just shrugged. Clearly, this was all Santiago’s harebrained idea.

  Great. I was going to end up with a broken arm—or worse, a bruised ego—before this was over.

  After I got out of the car, I left the door open so the guys could pile out. Watching three grown male bodies unfold from the back of my Mustang was as close to a clown car situation as we could get. They’d suggested taking Dad’s Jeep, but I couldn’t bring myself to drive it. I’d thought about asking about Tom’s Hummer, but he didn’t offer and I didn’t press. He was still sullen, quiet the whole way here, and now standing beside the car with his hands in his shorts pockets, seeming as if he’d rather be elsewhere.

  Glancing left and right, I opened the trunk and pulled out my sword. How strange would it look for a gaggle of teenagers to be out in the middle of nowhere, and me with a blade strapped to my back?

  By the time I was done, Santiago was already making his way to a well-worn footpath knifing into the dense forest. “This way, m’lady,” he said, waving.

  We formed a single-file line on the narrow path. At first, the climb was easy, but quickly it picked up, angling steeply and adding the fun elements of loose rock and ensnaring branches. The shaded canopy blocked some of the heat, but I was soon a sweaty mess. Santiago moved lithely around tree trunks and over boulders while I tripped, heavy on my feet, the sword banging against my spine, and the strap chafing against my neck.

  This plan better work, I thought at Santiago. Telepathy with dragons was spotty at best, but it was one of the skills I was supposed to be working on.

  A few moments later, Santiago’s voice echoed in my head like a fuzzy walkie-talkie. Trust me, amor. Glancing over his shoulder, he gave me a wink.

  We climbed up the last stretch of the rocky incline, then stood at the overhang. A loud roaring filled my ears as I inhaled the scent of running water and forest loam. I could see why people painted waterfalls. The water cascading down the rocks below was spectacular. The river it poured into was deep, fresh, and clear. Every shade of green framed the shore, from ferns to pines to maple trees.

  “Beautiful,” I said.

  Worth the hike, I thought at Santiago, but if he got my message, he didn’t say. He was too busy taking his clothes off.

  “What are you doing?” Ki asked, pulling himself up the ledge. “You’re going to shift here? What if someone sees you?”

  “We’re shifting?” Fang said, appearing as he maneuvered his body up as well.

  “I’m not shifting,” Santiago said, setting his expensive shoes aside and putting his folded shirt on top of them. I tried not to stare at the glistening muscles of his chest as he turned toward us. “I’m going to jump off this cliff into the water, and then Lila is going to follow me.” He turned to me, his lips curling in a how-about-it smile.

  “I’m doing what now?” I asked.

  Santiago stepped forward, taking my hand. “Amor, listen. Every time you’ve gotten your sword to obey you, you were feeling strong emotions. I know you’re afraid of falling. Whenever you ride on us, you hold on like crazy.”

  “I’d be crazy not to hold on the way you fly.”

  “Think about it. This could work. What stronger emotion can you think of than fear?” He stared into me, his eyes searching. He really believed this could work.

  Still holding hands, we walked toward the cliff’s edge and peered into the water below. The drop looked at least forty feet, and the way the water was churning, there was no way to see the bottom. Fear clenched my stomach like a cramp.

  “You’re going to get her killed.” Tom spoke behind us. When I turned around, he glared in Santiago’s direction, his arms crossed over his chest. “Is that what you want? Let her have an accident here, far away from the other dragons so no one will know what happened?”

  Santiago went rigid. “What are you implying, bro?”

  Tom shook his head, turning away. “Nothing. Just don’t be stupid. That’s all.”

  “It’s safe,” Santiago said. “People jump from here all the time.”

  “They do?” I asked, examining the area. It didn’t seem like another soul had been up here in decades.

  Ki stepped forward next. “I want to go on record as saying I also think this is a risky plan. Lila could be hurt. There has to be another way for her to experience strong emotions.”

  “Like how?” Fang responded. “Because we’ve tried everything else.”

  “So two of you think I should do it and two of you don’t?” I moved my gaze around, each face confirming what I’d suspected. “Great. Split decision. That helps me not at all.”

  “Look, I’ll show you it’s safe.” Without waiting for a response, Santiago took his glass off, set them on his clothes, and marched to the edge of the cliff. Turning to face us, he backed to the very brink of the overhang.

  “Santiago, wait!” I reached out for him.

  Grinning at me, he pushed off.

  His body arched up, curving away from the rock. When he threw his arms out, his body formed a T before angling downward. Then he pulled his arms above his head as he plummeted headfirst toward the water.

  I held my breath.

  His clasped hands broke the surface and then his body followed, slipping in with barely a ripple.

  My heart pounded as I watched the water for any sight of Santiago. The others gathered around me, all staring down.

  Where was he?

  An arm broke the surface several yards from where he’d dove in. His face appeared, beaming. Giving a whoop, Santiago threw his fist into the air and yelled, “Your turn!”

  I watched the current carry his body for a moment before considering my choice—give it a try or chicken out? The thought of jumping into the water terrified me, but how could I not try every avenue available? What if this was the key to unlocking my power and finding Dad?

  Taking several deep breaths, I started to kick off my shoes.

  Tom gripped my arm. “You’re not really considering doing this, are you?”

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I pulled the scabbard off my shoulder.

  “Lila, don’t,” he said, his stare intense.

  I pulled off my watch, then tucked it and my phone in my shoe.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Ki said. “There are rocks down there. Santiago may have just been lucky.”

  “Then I’ll have to be lucky, too.” I straightened my shirt before stepping toward the edge. My heart beat like a bird trapped in a cage. The foaming water appeared much farther down now that I was at the edge.

  “I’m not watching this,” Tom said, turning to climb back down.

  Glancing at him, I decided to let it go. I had to do this.

  Ki and Fang stood watching me, Ki with worry on his face and Fang just fascinated. “Good luck!” he said, giving me a thumbs-up.

  Good luck indeed.

  I gripped the stony edge with my toes, trying to ready myself for one of the most terrifying things I’d ever done.

  You fought a fiery dragon in a cave. You can do a little cliff dive, I told myself. Where were my imaginary pixies now?

  With my heart threatening to burst out of my chest, I sucked in a deep breath, bent my knees, and jumped.

  The air rushed past me as I fell, the world a blurb of green and brown. My body tumbled out of control. My arms wheeled. I couldn’t right myself. I saw my death before my eyes—rocks, blood, pain. I heard the boys cry my name as the water neared. The fear in their voices only added to my own.

  I slammed into the water like a sack of bricks.

  Pain exploded in my skin, muscles, bones, then I was under. The river swirled around me, green and frothy. Bubbles blurred my vision. Which way was up? I beat at the water, but a current was pulling me forward, not up.

  Kicking, thrashing, my limbs we
akened. My throat burned, my lungs screamed. Air, air, air, the alarm blared in my head.

  Something cut through the water, slamming into my palm. My hand closed around it reflexively. What was it? A stick? A rope? It was solid and glowing.

  Glowing?

  My sword blazed with light, illuminating the gloom around me. Suddenly, everything was clear. The rocky bottom was at my feet, the surface above. I flexed my legs and pushed off, shooting up.

  I broke through with a gasp. Fresh air felt so good to breathe. I sucked in several lungfuls, coughing and spitting. Then I doggie-paddled my way to shore.

  By the time I got to land, all the fight had gone out of me. Though the sword had saved my life and I was grateful for it, swimming with it was nearly impossible.

  Plus, there had been the whole nearly dying thing. Yeah, that.

  I lay face-down on the bank with my feet still in the water, trying to regain my strength.

  A throat cleared, sounding as if came from the tree line ahead of me.

  When I lifted my head, a cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows.

  “That, my child,” the figure said as it approached, “was the stupidest thing I think I’ve ever seen. What kind of Dragon Warden are you supposed to be?”

  Chapter Four

  An honest-to-god cloaked figure towered over me. The heavy hood of the cape the person wore cast a shadow over their angular face. For a moment, I worried Tara Palmer had come to kill me.

  Santiago! I tried my dragon telepathy. But who was I kidding? I was terrible at it. There was no answer. Crap.

  “It’s worse than I feared,” the figure said in a deep, yet feminine voice.

  A slender hand went up, and pushed the hood down to reveal a stately woman in her mid-fifties. She peered at me, her cold green eyes taking in my soaked clothes. She had a pointed nose, high cheekbones, and a long neck. A braid of silver hair hung over her shoulder, tied with a leather strap.

  She struck a pose, resting heavily on one leg and looping her thumbs through a thick leather belt that wrapped loosely around her hips. A ring just like mine twinkled on her finger and a sword, also just like mine, hung from the belt. She gave her cape a jerk, making it fan out and revealing its crimson silk lining.

  I scrambled to my feet, rocks digging into my bare soles while I fought the heaviness the river had left in my limbs.

  “Wh-who are you?” I asked, squeezing the hilt of my sword.

  She narrowed her eyes, and something about her expression struck me as familiar.

  “You really aren’t much to look at,” she said.

  “Excuse me? Who made you the judge of… of… things to look at?” I groaned inwardly.

  She gave a sigh, turned on her heel, and disappeared through the trees.

  “What the hell?” I cast about, as if an explanation about the strange woman would materialize in the air around me. Something did materialize, but it wasn’t an explanation. It was Santiago. He was running down the shore.

  “I told you it would work!” He grinned and whooped in excitement.

  His hair was wet, making curly cues against his forehead. Water dripped down his tone pecs, glimmering like dew. Soaked jeans hung low at his hips, revealing the top part of his perfect V. A shiver went down my spine as I remembered the night before, and I might have pulled him in for another kiss if it wasn’t for the forest nymph that had just scared the crap out of me.

  “There was a woman,” I said, pointing toward the trees. “She has a sword and a ring like mine. She insulted me, then she just walked off.”

  “What?” Santiago’s grin disappeared. His gaze followed my finger. “What woman?”

  “She looked like a freaking elf or something. She—”

  Stepping in front of me, he reached to hold me by the shoulders. “Shit, you must have hit your head. That was a brutal splat. I think you have a concussion.”

  Do I? I pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to replay the last few moments inside my mind. Maybe I had—

  “Well, are you coming or not?” the woman’s commanding voice came from behind the trees.

  Santiago whirled, pushing me behind his back protectively. “Amor, I think I hit my head, too. The trees are talking.”

  I peeked from behind his shoulder. He glanced back, his brown eyes darting toward my lips for an instant. “Shall we go check it out?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  Taking a step forward, Santiago interlaced his fingers with mine. We walked cautiously past the first line of trees, peering into the shaded forest. I wished like hell I had my shoes, but I’d just have to bear the pain.

  “What about the others?” I whispered.

  From where we stood, we couldn’t see them or reach them through telepathy since we’d floated down the river a considerable distance.

  “I tried contacting them, but it isn’t working for some reason. Maybe she’s blocking it. They’ll find us,” Santiago purred in a deep voice that rumbled from his chest. His irises had turned iridescent gold, cut in half by vertical pupils. “She’s this way.”

  We pushed past a tangle of bushes and stepped into a round clearing. The woman was sitting on a log, poking at the ground with a stick and looking bored.

  “Holy shit!” Santiago exclaimed when he laid eyes on her. He took a step back, tensing all over.

  The woman flung the stick to the side, examining Santiago with disdain. “Tell me your den, hatchling,” she ordered.

  Santiago bristled. “I-I’m not a hatchling,” he protested, though his tone lacked its usual bravado.

  “Hatchling… fledglings, what’s the different?” she said with a shrug.

  He huffed, clearly displeased with the name, though he didn’t argue. Instead, he said, “You are… the Scarlet Warden?” It was half question, half statement.

  Scarlet Warden?

  The woman acknowledged with a small nod, then repeated her command. “Your den.”

  “It’s Backdraft,” I answered for him, seeing as Santiago appeared to be in shock over the woman’s identity.

  At this news, the woman seemed to relax ever so slightly.

  I rubbed my arms as a shiver made my teeth chatter and slid closer to Santiago. In the shade of the trees, my clothes had turned to sheets of ice, and I was starting to freeze my ass off.

  “Make yourself useful and fetch some wood for a fire, hatchling.” The woman gestured to Santiago.

  He seemed about to argue again, but turned to me instead. My teeth were on overdrive, and goosebumps prickled on my skin.

  “You’re freezing,” Santiago said, rubbing his large hands along my arms. “I’ll get the wood. You’ll be safe with her.”

  “Are you sure?” I whispered, glancing distrustfully in the woman’s direction.

  “Pretty sure.” Without further explanation, Santiago went in search of wood, leaving me alone with the “Scarlet Warden,” whoever she was.

  “Sit.” She gestured toward a log opposite hers.

  I trod to the front of the log, my steps feeble as I fought the convulsing shivers that raked my body. Shaking like a leaf, I sat down, rested my sword on the log, and hugged myself.

  “If you knew anything, you’d dry yourself using the ring,” the woman said.

  Her haughty attitude rubbed me the wrong way, but her reputation as warden clearly preceded her. That meant she could teach me a thing or two, so being polite might prove beneficial. Also, I could dry myself with the ring?

  “How?” I asked, swallowing my pride.

  She ignored my question and examined my face carefully, her lips pursing as I squirmed under her prying eyes.

  I was about to snap and tell her to stop staring at me when Ki and Fang came trudging into the clearing. They stopped a few paces away, their dark eyes wide and dancing between the woman and me. They were dry and dressed, which explained why they’d taken their sweet time to show up. They’d probably undressed, shifted, flew to the river bank carrying their clothes, dressed again, then final
ly bothered to come find us. Good thing the Scarlet Warden hadn’t been trying to kill me.

  “About time,” I said.

  “Are you okay?” Ki took a step in my direction, holding my shoes, but seemed to think better of it and stopped.

  Fang, for his part, was still staring at the woman, mouth halfway open. After an awkward moment, he inclined his head respectfully and said, “Greeting, Dragon Warden.”

  “Longtail, I presume,” the woman said in response.

  “Yes, my father is Liang Peng. My name is Fang, and this is my younger brother, Ki. It’s an honor to meet you, Scarlet Warden.”

  Ki’s jaw fell open. “You mean she’s—?”

  Fang shook his head at his brother. Ki pressed his lips into a tight line, then simply bowed in greeting.

  The rustling of bushes announced Santiago’s return. He had an armful of wood, which he dumped in the center of the clearing. Taking in Ki and Fang’s startled expressions, he thrust his chin in the woman’s direction and said, “Wild, huh? Juneau’s Dragon Warden herself.”

  Juneau? As in Alaska?

  Ignoring her admirers, the woman stood and squatted by the pile of wood. With practice ease, she extended her ringed hand and made a waving motion over the dry branches. Her fingers glowed, the same way mine had when I’d burned Tom the day he tried to steal my sword. The wood smoked and crackled, then began to glow red as the intense heat from her hand ignited it.

  After she sat back down, she gestured toward the fire.

  “Thank you,” I said grudgingly, then extended my frozen hands over the wonderful warmth that already emanated from the fire.

  “So… what brings you to these parts?” Santiago asked.

  “Leave us, please,” was her answer. “Lila and I need to talk.”

  “What? No! I don’t want them to leave,” I said.

  She said nothing, just gave the guys a pointed look.

  “Um…” Fang snatched Ki by the arm and pulled him back. “I think this is warden business, Lila. We won’t go far. Just holler if you need us.”

  “But—” Santiago began to protest.

  “You, too. C’mon.” Fang grabbed Santiago, herding him along with them.