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Dragon in the Blood (Vale of Stars Book 2)

Page 21

by Juliette Cross


  “Come,” said Bowen. “We must move quickly. They’ll be arming themselves now.”

  We filed from the cottage, following Serena in her gray cloak. Ignoring the battle cries and screams of women coming from the dark cottages, we moved fast through the snow-swept street to the next encampment. I kept close to Valla. Yes, I knew she could handle herself, but my instinct to keep her near me, to keep her safe, was overriding all else. Especially after witnessing the kind of abominable enslavement these human women had suffered.

  “There!” shouted Serena, pointing to a large circular dwelling.

  The doors were torn from the hinges, and a fire burned within. Madera staked a Morgon with her spear—her boot on his face, his neck seemingly broken. A half-naked woman fell to the snow, coughing and heaving deep breaths.

  Serena dashed toward the entrance. Bowen caught her by the arm and pulled her back. “No! I’ll go.”

  I sheathed my sword and circled to the back where open windows billowed with black smoke. They were too narrow for me to fit through with my wings, but I could see a woman lying on the other side near the window, the fire encroaching closer.

  “Valla!” I shouted. And she was there beside me.

  With a deep breath, I blew out a streak of blue flame to encircle the girl, I waved a hand to build it higher, pushing the heat of the fire back. The blue flame of Icewings had the power to heal, but the blue flame of firedancers could be used to defend. A shield of sorts.

  “I can’t get through,” I said, pointing to the girl on the floor.

  “I’ve got her,” said Valla, squeezing through the window, tucking her wings tight.

  Within thirty seconds, she’d dragged the girl to me. Jostling her through the opening, Valla lifted her feet and nodded at a bed. “There’s another one,” she said, coughing.

  “Hurry.”

  The burn within my core warned me of the danger she was in. But by the time I’d settled the first woman to the ground, she was at the window with the other who was even lighter than the first. The orange flames were licking higher over my blue wall of fire.

  “Get out of there, Valla.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, then obeyed, slipping back through the window. She lifted the smaller of the human women, who truly was little more than a girl, perhaps sixteen. I clenched my jaw, fury burning through my blood at what these Larkosians were doing here. The white-hot blue of Valla’s gaze when she lifted the girl told me she felt the same.

  “I can carry her on my own.”

  With a stiff nod, I lifted the other, and we marched to the front where others huddled together near Madera, looking like their savior that she was. The roof crumbled as sparks and flames licked higher into the sky. Serena was pacing near the entrance when Bowen exited the building, carrying yet another woman.

  “That’s all of them,” said Bowen, kneeling to place the last girl on the ground, black soot covering her face, her tattered gown hanging from her slight frame.

  “What happened?” I asked, setting the woman down, who coughed herself back into consciousness.

  Madera stepped forward. “One of the assholes lit the place on fire when he saw us coming. But he didn’t escape.”

  Her gaze flicked to the bloody body a little farther off in the snow. The sound of swords clashing still filled the night.

  “But where is Lena!” Serena’s fear had leeched into her voice.

  Bowen looked helplessly around them. Then Serena fell onto her knees next to the woman he had brought out last and still held in his arms.

  “Nella,” she called cradling the pale woman’s face in her hands. The woman was conscious but dazed. “Nella, can you hear me?” Serena looked up at Bowen. “She’s Lena’s bedmate. She’ll know. Nella, please tell me. Where is Lena?”

  The woman focused on Serena and shook her head. “She left.”

  “Left? What do you mean? When?”

  “At light’s out. When I got into bed, she dressed and crept to the window.” She coughed again and spat out black soot.

  Serena squeezed her shoulder. “Please. Tell me where she went.”

  Nella shrugged. “She didn’t say. But she turned to me when I asked her where she was going and she—she took my hand and told me to be brave and that all would be well, then she slipped out the window. I thought she had a lover, a real one who would protect her, or maybe take her away from this place.”

  “Oh, God,” whispered Serena, her gaze turning toward the path that led away from the soldiers’ camp. A cold wind passed, blowing the hood off Serena’s head, her black hair flying loose. “The witch.”

  “She’s here?” I asked, stepping forward.

  “That way,” pointed Serena. “There’s a lone villa at the end of this path near the woods, secluded from the camp, especially made for her.”

  Without waiting, I leapt into the air and flew straight and low. Valla and Bowen gained on me. Bastien’s Bastards were keeping the soldiers busy, overpowering them one by one. A small faction flew off toward the south. Running away. Their king most certainly wasn’t here for they’d never defect in his presence.

  We flew out of the encampment deeper into the woods. The fighting became a distant murmur. The new falling snow, coming down in fat flakes, muffled the clanging of swords and cries of battle. I blinked away a chunk that had hit me in the eye as a yellow light appeared out of the darkness ahead. I slowed my descent with a flap of wings. Bowen and Valla followed suit as we came into a small clearing where the villa stood. It was indeed different than the other sparse dwellings. This had been built with columns and marble and striking lines of architecture for someone special indeed. The Blood King had set her apart from the others.

  We landed lightly on the perimeter of a portico leading into the villa. Bowen signaled toward the back. I nodded, and we wound our way to the backside where we could hear someone singing a lullaby. A beautiful sound, ethereal and haunting, came from the room where golden light beamed onto a balcony. The villa was built on a slope that ran to another winding path down below.

  When we eased over the balcony railing, we could easily make out the scene within. The witch, with scarlet wings edged in black and arching high above her shoulders, sat up in a porcelain tub with a crackling fire in the hearth at her back. Her flaming red hair spilled over her shoulders as a dark-skinned Coalglass massaged her shoulders from behind. One hand glided forward over her full breasts to caress her round stomach. Pregnant.

  Valla, Bowen, and I shared a look of disbelief. She sang an old melody, one I’d heard my grandmother sing ages ago in the clan home beneath the Feygreir Mountains.

  “Come away, come away, come away, my dear.

  The world will ne’er be kind, I fear.

  When pain and sorrow hurts you too near,

  then come away…come away…back home.”

  Entranced by the odd scene, we made our way closer where I could finally see that the water in which she bathed was blood-red. Unsheathing my sword, I caught a glimpse of Bowen notching an arrow on his bow before I shouldered the glass door open. It gave way easily. The witch’s man grabbed his sword leaning against the wall, but Bowen let his arrow fly, pinning the man’s arm to the stone. The witch stood from her bath, hissing at our intrusion, cradling her swollen belly in a protective gesture. Valla swiveled closer to her.

  “Not too close,” I warned. “Bloodbacks are known to spit their poison.”

  The naked woman stepped from the porcelain tub and inched back to the wall where there was a robe.

  “Put on your clothes, woman,” I said. “You’re coming with us.”

  “No,” said her man, breaking the arrow and sliding his wounded arm free. “She is going nowhere with you.” He grabbed his sword with the other and put himself between us and the witch.

  “Why is your tub filled with blood?” asked Valla, the tangy scent of it filling the room.

  She covered herself in a crimson robe and lifted her chin in defiance. “It was freel
y given. It is not a crime. You have no right to barge in here.”

  “Freely given by whom?” asked Bowen, having notched another arrow in his crossbow, aiming it directly at her head.

  The witch seemed to realize her answer could determine her own fate.

  “We take her alive,” I reminded Bowen.

  “You will not take her at all,” said the fuming dark Morgon.

  He lunged at Bowen. I deflected his blade. Bowen let loose another arrow, hitting the man’s shoulder, not his heart where he’d aimed. He bellowed in pain as I heaved in a deep breath and shot an arrow of flame directly into his chest. His dark eyes widened in shock and then he fell sideways, slipping into the bloody bath face down.

  “No!” screamed the witch, launching herself toward him. “No!”

  I stepped forward, preparing to knock her unconscious, for it was the only safe way to take her now, but she rounded on me, orange-red eyes blazing.

  “You will be sorry, firedancer,” she said with a hiss. “I’ll show you the meaning of pain.”

  She sucked in air just as I did, preparing to blow out a blue flame to block her. But she was quicker, spewing a spray of poison directly into my eyes.

  I heard Valla scream. Then all was black.

  CHAPTER 24

  “N o!” I screamed and launched myself through the air, spinning in a somersault and bludgeoning the witch on the back of the head with the hilt of my sword. She fell to the floor as I dropped both swords and rolled Conn onto his back. I pulled his head into my lap.

  “Conn,” I whispered. “Can you hear me?”

  The witch’s poison had directly hit his eyes but had spattered over his face, red welts forming fast.

  “Oh, Conn.”

  Bowen knelt beside me and tapped an urgent message into his comm. “I’ve called for Lyla and given our coordinates. She’ll be here soon.”

  The witch moaned, coming to already.

  Bowen grabbed her by the shoulders and shook. “Where did that blood come from? Tell me!”

  “It was freely given.”

  “By whom, you bitch. Tell me now before I kill you despite my orders.”

  “The girl,” she said, calm despite the rage boiling in the room from every one of us except for Conn lying in my lap, quiet. Too quiet. Too still. I wanted to scream my fury and stake her through the heart.

  “Lena gave it to me.”

  “Where. Is. She.” Bowen’s command was a guttural growl.

  The witch pointed out the balcony. “Follow the path. You’ll find her,” she said with a smile.

  The rustle of wings overhead and pounding on the front door echoed into this back chamber. Reinforcements were here. Bowen let her go, marched out the door, and flew off the balcony. The witch stood on steady feet. She was tough, for I’d smashed her head pretty good. I drew Conn closer to me, cradling his head to my chest.

  “Your sister, Kera, would be ashamed of you if she could see you now…Bekkanine.”

  The witch turned her wicked gaze on me. “You met my sister, did you?” She scoffed, lifting the hood over her head. “My sister is weak.”

  “Why? Because she was content with the laws of nature and sought to do only good? Unlike yourself?”

  The front door splintered as Morgons made their way through the villa. They apparently didn’t know we’d already broken through the back.

  “No. Because she accepted our fate, to die out and disappear into history. She accepted what the world said of us, that we are the evil ones they have made us out to be.”

  “You practice blood magic, Bekka. That is evil.”

  “No,” she said, striding for the balcony.

  “Hurry! In here!” I yelled, unwilling to let Conn go. Boots pounded closer.

  “It is power,” she said with such conviction I felt a chill wrap up my spine. “And you will all know and feel it’s might soon enough.” She smoothed a hand over her rounded belly and stepped out to lift off into the night.

  Bastien barreled into the room with Lorian and Paxon behind him.

  “That way! Get her!” I pointed. Bastien ran straight through the chamber, bloodied battle ax in hand.

  Paxon was at my side, a fear marking his face that probably mirrored mine. “Poison?”

  “Yes,” I said, choking on the lump in my throat. “Will it kill him?”

  Paxon shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Then Lyla entered with Bastien’s faithful hound at her heels.

  “Lay him flat on the floor,” she ordered, calm and composed as always.

  Gently, I lay his head down. She unzipped his thermal suit and tore open the neck of his undershirt, inspecting for more welts.

  “Back away, Valla. Cold fire stings.”

  I did, but didn’t go too far, holding Conn’s hand in both of mind, squeezing and hoping for a similar reaction from him. He remained unmoving.

  Lyla blew out a cool ice-blue flame that caressed over Conn’s face. He arched his neck, and his mouth fell open in pain, though he didn’t wake. Lyla continued to blow the healing flame until the small welts vanished and the darker patches around his eyes transformed, swirling into a scaly pattern of iridescent starbursts. But Conn didn’t wake up. Didn’t even move.

  Lyla felt for a pulse on his neck, then opened his lids to check his eyes.

  “His pulse is slow. He seems to be in some sort of coma.”

  “Did the poison reach his blood? Could it reach his heart?”

  “I don’t know. This may be beyond my skills. I typically handle knife wounds and burns. Not poison.”

  “There has to be something else we can do,” said Paxon.

  My heart lurched. “Kera. At the Syren Sisters Coven. She told me she has the gift of healing elixirs as well as poison. She may be able to help.”

  A rush of wings and boots hit the balcony pavement and then Bowen walked through the broken entry with the slight form of a girl wrapped in a blanket.

  Lyla stood and went to Bowen. She checked for signs of life on the girl in his arms.

  “Can you help her?” he asked quietly.

  “She is still alive. But barely.” Lyla shook her head. “She is beyond healing now.”

  Serena swept in with Sinjin shadowing her. She swept her gaze around the room. “Where is she?” She gasped when she saw Bowen holding her. “No.”

  Rushing forward, Serena tilted her sister’s face toward her. “Lena. Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

  The girl, much smaller than Serena and ashen pale, fluttered her eyes open. “Sister,” she said with a weak smile. “I hoped to see you again.”

  “What did you do, Lena? What did you do?”

  “I know you tried to save me,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “But I wanted to save you instead.”

  “Oh, Lena! Can you help her?” she asked Lyla at her side. “Please.”

  Lyla only shook her head.

  “Shhhh,” said Lena. “I’m done for this world. I’m happy to go on ahead…give mother my love.”

  “No, Lena—”

  “And forgive yourself one of these days, Serena. None of this was ever your fault. I’ve always admired you…and loved you. As I still do now…”

  Serena clung to her sister as her spirit slipped away from the tiny bundle in Bowen’s arms. The man who had been a stoic tower of strength from the moment I’d met him crumbled to his knees and wept with his dead sister cradled against his chest. Serena held him and did the same.

  Paxon motioned to Lorian who’d been on guard on the periphery since he’d entered. Paxon and Lorian lifted Conn together and marched out onto the balcony. Pax tapped a message into his comm.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, barely holding myself together, fearing I’d be in a similar scene as Bowen and Serena if we didn’t manage to get Conn to Kera.

  “Kol found the stash of harnesses. Lorian and I can use one to carry Conn back to the coven.”

  “It’s too far,” I said, teeth chattering, from f
ear not the cold. “Take him to Morga’s Keep and ask for Brother Silvanus. He’ll take you in. We need fast flyers to go to the coven and bring Kera to Conn. Bastien will know the fastest route to the sisters.”

  “It would be faster if we took him directly.”

  I shook my head with a sarcastic whiff. “No. It’s not. Paxon, just trust me. This is the best way. And the brothers have healing powers of their own.”

  I knelt again and lifted his head out of the snow. I stared up at Paxon with a giant moon silhouetting him in white, his wings open to shield us from the gusting wind.

  “I can’t lose him, Pax,” I said, my voice shaking. No longer able to hold back the well of emotion, tears now streamed down my cheeks. “I can’t. He means…he means so much to me. I just can’t—”

  Then I was really bawling and praying my brother didn’t appear while I cried like a baby over a man I’d purported to hate last he knew.

  “You won’t,” said Paxon, squatting down and chucking me on the chin. “I can’t let you go and lose your mate before you’re actually mated, now can I?”

  My heart tripped several beats. “What did you say?”

  “Oh, darling Valla. Didn’t you know the man has been burning with soulfire for you? In agony, I’d say.”

  I stared, completely stupefied.

  He laughed. “You’re his mate. And he is yours. But the two of you are too damn stubborn to admit your true feelings, so I suppose it’s better coming from me while he’s unconscious and can’t kill me for it. Not at the moment, anyway.”

  “Are you—do you mean—are you sure?”

  “Quite sure. Poor man. When you do get him back, you’d better do a fine show of proving your feelings for him.”

  I gazed down at Conn. The moon glistened on the iridescent scars streaking in a starburst pattern around his eyes. It was both beautiful and unusual. Very much like the man himself.

 

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