Rebels and Realms: A Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Heather Marie Adkins

  My thoughts were interrupted when a pitter-patter began thrumming in my head. I squinted my eyes and turned my head towards Cairo. I wasn’t sure what was going on. It felt like someone was trying to pry my head open.

  “Relax.”

  A voice echoed through my head. It was a voice that sounded a lot like Cairo’s. I opened my eyes wide as I watched him. He nodded his head as if what I was hearing was real.

  “You-?” I stammered.

  “Yes, a perk of being me. I can speak to you through your mind.” Cairo explained.

  “You can’t hear inside my mind too, can you?” The question flew from my mouth before I could realize how crazy it sounded. Cairo’s only response was a chuckle that reverberated throughout my head, not answering my question.

  “I want to try something.” Cairo looked me in my dragon eyes. “I wonder if you possess mahier, or if you are able to wield it?”

  “Okay.” That would be pretty cool if I could. I wondered what he had in mind.

  “I want you to concentrate. Try to blend in to your surroundings. Mask yourself. I will drop my mask around you.” He explained.

  “But what if someone sees me?” I began to panic as I looked around. I realized I could see nothing but clouds as we passed through them with ease.

  “Trust me. The only presence I feel is the two of us.” He affirmed.

  “Alright, let’s do this.” I exclaimed.

  I sensed what felt like a sheet being pulled away from me. I assumed this was Cairo’s mask. I concentrated on blending in with the wisps of clouds that we passed by. A tingle began to travel throughout my body until it stopped at at my fingertips as heat enveloped me.

  “Remarkable.” Cairo’s voice brought me out of the trance I had fallen in.

  “Did it work?” I asked.

  “Yes. I’ve never met a dramon like you. A dramon who can fly and wield mahier. The council needs to meet you.” Cairo paused. “We will go to them immediately.”

  “Where are they?” I asked. My interest piqued. Why was I so different?

  “We will make a stop on Ellesmere Island in Canada to rejuvenate.” Cairo said, avoiding my question once again.

  “What’s the name again? Ocha?” I continued to try and get information from him.

  “Ochana. Now focus. We have a long trip ahead of us. It will take us many hours. Your wings are much smaller than mine.” He said sternly. “I will try to make contact with the Woland guard as we get closer.”

  I wondered how many dragons lived in Ochana and if they would accept me. From what Cairo had told me, I was different. Much different than any dramon he had ever met. That idea brought so many more question to light. How were dramons made and why? And dragons, they were real, but I still felt like I was dreaming. If it weren’t for the dragon flying next to me, I would’ve thought I was going crazy.

  The outrageous thoughts about my reality were engulfing me, so I decided to turn my concentration on to the enjoyable sensations of flying through the sky. The sun had begun to set and the air was a bit cooler, but not nearly as cool as I would have expected at this altitude. Then again, my skin still hummed from my mahier and the heat that cloaked me earlier still existed.

  I breathed in the pure air and noticed Cairo begin to descend on what looked like a snow-covered island. This must be Ellesmere Island.

  4

  I landed smoothly on the frozen tundra of Canada. Cairo had already shifted back into his human counterpart and was walking towards what looked like a small camp. Smoke still billowed from what used to be a fire.

  I caught up to Cairo just as he blew fire right from his mouth and into the fire pit. I jumped back from the impact as Cairo’s fire erupted from the pit and transformed into a roaring blaze. I turned my eyes towards Cairo, who winked once again at me and pointed to a stump by the fire. With a slight smile on my face, I took a seat. Being a dragon might end up being pretty awesome. I wondered if I would be able to breathe fire like Cairo?

  “We’ll rest a few hours before we venture to Ochana. I haven’t been able to call to any of the other Wolands. Something is blocking me.” Cairo paused. “I’d really like to warn them of our arrival. You are unique.” He spoke the last part softly.

  “How do you think they will react to me?” I asked with a bit of unease.

  Cairo looked to the ground. I followed his line of sight to a small pile of firewood. It looked to be kicked over. Finally, his red gaze met mine once again.

  “I fear some may be frightened of you. Dramon’s are unable to shift.” He gestured to my wings. “And they most definitely cannot wield mahier.” He stated.

  “So, why can I?” I asked.

  “I have a theory.” He stated as he looked back down towards the pile of sticks. “If I’m right, all dragons and other creatures who are deemed true are in great danger.” He explained.

  Danger? All because of whom or what I am? But I don’t want to hurt anyone, especially not dragons or true beings. It didn’t make sense. I looked over to Cairo and noticed he was observing me, taking in the details of my wings and scales.

  He shook his head as to clear his mind. “It’s not you. It’s what you represent. You have the power to save us. All of us.” He paused. “It’s why the fates created you.” With his last bit of words he stood and headed towards the empty wasteland. He shifted as he walked, took off into the sky and flew over a ridge.

  I sat there, completely dumbfounded. Did he just leave me here in the middle of nowhere? The idea scared me. But deep down I knew he’d be back, he wouldn’t have brought me all the way here to just leave me.

  I thought about what he said. The fates had created me? I didn’t know how I felt about fates or God, but Cairo seemed sure of who created me and why. How could I save the dragons and what would I be saving them from? Something told me Cairo wouldn’t answer these questions for me. Maybe the council were on our way to see could answer them?

  A loud thud sounding behind me broke my thoughts. In brisk movement, I turned around on the stump I had been perched on. I began to witness Cairo the dragon stomping towards me while some kind of dead animal lie limp in his mouth. He stopped next to me, dropping the animal into the fire. He shifted with ease and sat across from me fully clothed.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I won’t answer any of those questions. Not until I’m sure of who you really are.” He grabbed a stick and turned the animal over.

  I pointed to the fire. “What is that?” I asked as a putrid smell secreted from the flames.

  “Muskox.” He uttered. “Smell horrible. But taste great. The island is covered with them.” He gestured with his hands to exhibit the sum of land making up the now acquainted island.

  “Okay.” Clearly, this was dinner.

  “Once we eat, we’ll rest,” Cairo said.

  He pulled a knife from somewhere and began to cut the ox up. He passed me a hunk of meat as he began to tear into the rest. The smell was rancid, but I took a bite anyway. The meat was juicy and flavorful. As I quickly finished my portion, Cairo had polished off the rest.

  “How do I shift back?” I asked while realizing I was still in my dramon form.

  “You concentrate on yourself as you know it. You’ve caught on quick with everything else so I’m sure this will be easy for you.” He paused. “However, you should stay shifted. I’m not sure if your mahier works in your human form and you need your mahier to stay warm.”

  “Oh, okay,” I replied.

  “Get some rest, we’ll head to Ochana in a few hours. I’m sure the council will have many questions for you.” He stood and headed towards one of the tents, never looking back at me.

  I wondered what the future would bring. I was a golden dragon. A dramon. The one who the fates created to save the dragons and all that were deemed true.

  Whatever that meant.

  The End

  Continue the Keeper of Dragons series in book one, The Prince Returns.

  https://www.jaculican.com/ke
eper-of-dragons/

  About the Author

  J.A. Culican is a USA Today Bestselling author of the middle grade fantasy series Keeper of Dragons. Her first novel in the fictional series catapulted a trajectory of titles and awards, including top selling author on the USA Today bestsellers list and retail sites, and a rightfully earned spot as an international best seller. Additional accolades include Best Fantasy Book of 2016, Runner-up in Reality Bites Book Awards, and 1st place for Best Coming of Age Book from the Indie book Awards.

  J.A. Culican holds a Master’s degree in Special Education from Niagara University, in which she has been teaching special education for over 13 years. She is also the president of the autism awareness non-profit Puzzle Peace United. J.A. Culican resides in Southern New Jersey with her husband and four young children.

  Read More from J.A. Culican

  www.jaculican.com

  The Curse of Elliott Jones

  Christine Ashworth

  The Curse of Elliott Jones © copyright 2018 by Christine Ashworth

  Cover copyright 2018 by Scott Carpenter

  Copyright notice: All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  The Curse of Elliott Jones

  Scarred. Demon-ridden. Searching for the key to give his life meaning.

  Elliott Jones escaped from hell to see the sun for the first time in decades…but chaos follows him. When the one woman he needs ends up being bent on saving others of their kind, he fights to have the courage to face the nightmares of his past.

  Phoenix Raine knows what it’s like to escape the Compound run by a madman. She’s never forgotten Elliott’s touch and hopes he will work with her. But when death follows Elliott, can he overcome his deadly blood legacy and turn toward the light?

  The Curse of Elliott Jones is Book One of The Blood Legacy Saga.

  1

  Elliott Jones remembered his name. He remembered the noise of the freeway, and the heat of Los Angeles, and the smell of fire on the fitful wind but at a distance, as if he’d read of those things but not experienced them until just that moment.

  He leaned against a dark building, grateful for the night that shielded him as he worked to figure out why he was out of breath. Why his body ached, and why his skin crackled with pain under the clothes he wore. When he stuck his hand in the pocket of the long leather coat he wore, he found a thick wad of money that startled him almost as much as the gun in its shoulder holster under his coat. He was desperate to figure out who he was and where he fit into this bewildering world.

  A burger joint beckoned on the other side of the street, and his belly growled. He crossed the street and went inside. To his surprise, it was a sit-down joint rather than a take out. He sat with his back to a wall, where he could watch the entrances while he figured out what to do next.

  “Hi. You look frazzled. Hard day at work?” The waitress was cute, if way too young. She smiled when he didn’t say anything. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Elliott found his voice. “Beer?” His voice was raspy, and his throat hurt. As if he’d been screaming.

  “What kind of beer?”

  “Got any pale ale?”

  “Stone. It’s brewed in San Diego, you know.” She smiled again.

  Elliott looked back at the menu. “Stone is fine. Give me a burger and some fries. Medium rare.”

  “Fries, medium rare. Interesting. Most people like them fully cooked,” she said with a grin. Her smile faltered when he didn’t respond. “The fries, I mean. I mean, oh never mind. Coming right up.” She turned away, her cheeks bright red with embarrassment.

  Elliott slumped in his chair. Great. Maybe he should also take up kicking puppies. After a bit, he became aware of a buzzing along the back of his neck. As if someone were watching. He glanced around, rubbed his neck, and the awareness finally faded.

  It pissed him off to realize he was like a child all over again. But Mom and Daddy were long gone; he had only himself, his wits, and his skills.

  Flashes of the past caught at him. A hospital bed. His parents bending over him. Then nothing…they left and never returned. Elliott rubbed his eyes. He really didn’t want to know. When the waitress came back with his beer, he nodded and checked her nametag. “Thank you uh, Tammy.”

  She smiled, bringing out that dimple in her left cheek. “You get that inside you and you’ll feel better. Trust me on that. Whatever happened during your day is over now. Relax. Kick back and let me spoil you a bit.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Won’t all your customers want to get spoiled?”

  She twinkled, her relief apparent. “Maybe another day for them. Your burger will be up in about five minutes.”

  He watched as she walked away. Young, yes. So very young. Twenty-one at least, but still. The bright blonde of her ponytail made him feel old as dirt.

  Resolutely, he kept his eye on the TV in the corner. The Chargers were playing the Raiders, and were losing, from what he could tell. He could also track where in the room little Tammy was, and what her emotions were. Her customers seemed to be regulars; only he was someone new, someone that she’d been drawn to. Even now he could hear her discussing him with the cashier.

  He frowned. She was across the restaurant. How could he hear her? How was that even possible? The lights above him flickered for a moment before holding steady. He spent the time waiting for his food by listening in on conversations all across the restaurant, surprised at how easily he could pick them up.

  When his burger came, he asked Tammy for another beer and applied himself to his food. He could tell she was disappointed that he was half way finished eating when she returned with the beer.

  “You’re rushing. Eating fast isn’t good for you,” she scolded.

  “I’ve got somewhere to be tonight.” He shrugged. The need to get away from that place grew strong. “I wish it could be otherwise. Could you bring me the check?”

  She gave him a half-hearted smile. “Sure. Right away. Do you live around here?”

  His mouth full of burger, he just shook his head and looked toward the football game. Tammy got the hint and left.

  He’d finished the burger and fries when she got back and had money ready. She laid the check on the table and he reached for her hand.

  “Wait.”

  She stilled beneath his touch. Her innocence fluttered under his fingertips and her eyes grew huge in her face. “Is—did I do something wrong?”

  “No. Just wanted to give you the money, that’s all.” He slipped the bill under her hand and let her go, gritting his teeth hard against the rage that came out of nowhere. “Thank you.” The words sounded forced, but he had to say them.

  She nodded and left, giving him quick looks over her shoulder as she retreated to the cash register.

  Elliott stood, nodded to Tammy who was talking rapidly to an older waitress, and pushed his way out into the night, the need to run, to hide, itching inside.

  “Wait. Sir, wait just a minute.” Tammy’s voice carried on the wind, and he could hear her rapid footsteps as she came down the sidewalk.

  Elliott didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead, he turned to wait for her.

  She’d ditched her apron and taken the band out of her hair. It f
lew about her face in the wind as she came. “You forgot your change.” She held her hand out and slowed as she got closer to him.

  So very young.

  “It was for you. Your tip.” He watched her thoughts flow across her face, so easy to see, to read. “You should go back to work,” he added.

  “I don’t even know your name, and I know you can’t just leave.” The words burst out of her.

  Elliott took a step back. “Elliott. My name is Elliott.”

  Tammy bit her lip. “Where do you live? Do you need a ride to your family?”

  “My family is all gone. They died years ago.” Pain caught at him, as the memory washed over him once again, fresh as ever.

  “Then you need a place to stay. Come with me. I’ll take you to my parents’ house. They’ll be happy to have you stay for a day or so.”

  “That isn’t a good idea. For one thing, I’m much too old for you. You bringing me home won’t look good.”

  She laughed. “My father’s a pastor. He’ll be fine with you staying. We have a guesthouse, you see. Please. It’s the least I can do for the generous tip you left me.” She stuffed the forgotten money in her pocket and held out her hand. “Please?”

  Still he hesitated. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty five. The same as you, I expect. Come on. Give my parents a chance before you say no.”

  He blinked. How old was he, anyway? “Where do you live?”

  “Burbank. I know, not really close, but you gotta take the jobs that are offered.”

  Was that the direction he needed to go? He didn’t know, but damned if he told her that. In spite of his misgivings, Elliott placed his hand in hers. “Okay.”