Tamhas (Dragon Heartbeats Book 8)

by Ava Benton

  He spoke first. “What do you mean, what are we?” He was gruff, probably pissed that I kicked his ass a little, but his words were slightly softened by a Scottish brogue.

  “I saw you. What you did. You were… dragons. I saw you flying.”

  His body went stiff while he looked from me to the other two. Their mouths fell open.

  “You saw us?” the one with the cut jaw asked.

  “In the air?” the other added.

  I nodded.

  “Hold her,” the second one ordered, coming to me and untying the bandana around my neck before lifting away my ponytail.

  She muttered something in a language I didn’t understand.

  The other swore a blue streak, and that I most definitely understood, even if I didn’t understand why.

  “There it is,” the man murmured. He sounded amazed.

  “There what is?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “Inside,” the man grunted—and before I knew it, he was dragging me toward the mountain, where what looked like a cave had been carved out of the rock.

  “What? What are you doing? You can’t do this!” But I might as well have been talking to myself.

  “Wait. Stop.” For a second, I thought one of the women saw reason—instead, the bandana found its way over my eyes. I couldn’t see a thing. I had no idea where they were taking me, or why.

  “You can’t do this!” I repeated, not like it mattered. They didn’t listen as they dragged me into the cave and deep inside the mountain.

  Not until we came to a stop—it felt like forever had passed—did one of them rip the bandana from my eyes. I barely had time to make out the bars of the cell before he threw me inside and slammed a door behind me.

  “Where are we?” I asked, gripping the bars with all my might. “Why are you doing this? Who are you?”

  They exchanged a silent look before walking away.

  Leaving me alone, in the dark, in a cell.

  5

  Tamhas

  What’s the problem?”

  Why would he call so suddenly? Did someone know something about my activities? Had they told him? Who was it?

  My mind was spinning out of control, and I recognized this. I closed my eyes and forced myself to take a deep breath.

  “We have a trespasser.”

  I wasn’t certain whether I ought to be worried by this or relieved. “Who? Where were they found?” And why did he feel the need to call me about it?

  “A woman, just outside the woods. She attacked Ainsley, Isla, and Dallas.”

  “Are they all right?”

  “They seem to be fine—but you understand the concern, naturally.”

  “Naturally. How could…”

  “How could a human woman fight off three of us at once,” he finished in a tight voice. “Easily, when she bears the mark of a Blood Moon Priestess.”

  My stomach dropped. There was a name I hadn’t heard in centuries. “You’re certain of this?”

  “Positive. Dallas held her still while Ainsley checked for the mark.”

  “What brought it to mind after all this time? I can’t say I would’ve thought to look.”

  “I asked the same question,” he replied. “And she said she wasn’t certain what inspired her to check. Only that her instincts told her no normal human woman could’ve done what she did. Especially when she saw them inflight. Humans aren’t able to do that. And, of course, she managed to get the better of them.”

  “Aye, indeed. I’m glad to know they’re well after such a fight.” If there was a single group I would never have wished to tangle with—aside from the mercenaries who’d attacked us using automatic weapons—it would be the Priestesses. Witches, to be sure, who used their powers as witches typically did, but they had also been fierce warriors. “What would one of the Priestesses be doing there? It’s been how long since we last had sigh of any of them?”

  “Several centuries. Ever since the matter between Diana and Gavin.”

  “Mhm. That much, I remember clearly.” How could I forget? We’d worked alongside the Blood Moon Priestesses for as long as I could remember, likely since before I came to be. They’d assisted in hiding our identities, keeping the clan protected.

  Until a rift formed within their circle. A rift which Gavin had refused to help mend, leading to a war which he’d refused to take part in. He’d insisted that any assistance would be tantamount to meddling in another group’s affairs and wanted nothing to do with it.

  I’d understood at the time and understood still. He’d never been one to stretch his neck out when it came to anyone but a member of his own clan. The world had been changing by then, rapidly. Villages turning into towns, some not far from the borders of our territory. The threat of humans was ever looming.

  Yes, the protection of the Blood Moon Priestesses had been crucial to our safety, but if they were warring amongst themselves, what good could they do us?

  And what if we’d chosen to back the losing side?

  He’d decided instead to cut ties with the witches and turn his focus inward, to securing us using our own strength. Diana’s fury was the stuff of legend. They’d protected us for millennia and what did they receive in return?

  There was no love lost between our clan and the Priestesses, then. Even so… “I thought they dissolved, broke up,” I muttered, pacing in front of the window for lack of anything better to do.

  “We all thought it. But she bears the mark. All three of them saw it.”

  “Has she said anything?”

  “She hasn’t been questioned. We have her in one of the cells.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly uncomfortable. “I mean no offense, believe me, but… Why are you telling me this? Why go out of your way to call me?”

  He snorted. “One of my clansmen is out in the human world while this is going on and you don’t think I at least want to make certain he’s someplace safe? What if the Priestesses had overtaken you upon leaving our territory?”

  “I don’t know. What do these Priestesses look like?”

  He chuckled, but cleared his throat in an attempt to cover it up. “This is serious. This woman meant business. If she could injure three of us at once, imagine what might have happened if it had only been you. Alone.”

  “Thank you for all the faith you have in me.”

  “Enough.”

  I sighed. “All right. No more joking.”

  “Thank you.” He drew a deep breath. “I’m sure you know what this means.”

  “I’m sure I don’t,” I said, suddenly dreading whatever it was he had in mind. If it was what I had the feeling it was, my trip was about to be cut short, before it even started. Either that, or I’d have no choice but to make him very unhappy.

  “I cannot have you away from the mountain at this time. You need to return.”

  I closed my eyes. It was inevitable, wasn’t it? He was bound to tell me to return after something, so out-of-the-ordinary had taken place. Hell, I would’ve done the same if I were in his shoes.

  But he wasn’t in my shoes. He didn’t know what was at stake for me. His mistake was the same as Gavin’s: assuming we all were not just willing, but eager to always put ourselves second to the clan.

  I’d been doing just that my entire life, and where had it gotten us? We’d still been kidnapped. We’d still lost half our numbers in the most horrific ways.

  “I don’t know about that.” I looked down at the ticket I’d just purchased.

  Silence. For much longer than I would’ve expected. Long enough that I thought for a moment, I’d dropped the call.

  Before I could pull the phone from my ear to check whether we were connected, he spoke.

  “What is it about my request that has confused you, Tamhas?”

  He wasn’t happy. I’d expected that, naturally.

  “If you want to know the truth? The fact that it wasn’t a request at all, but rather an order.”

  “And what wou
ld you prefer, then? An engraved invitation? A car to pick you up and bring you back?”

  “No. Simply the illusion that I have a choice in the matter.”

  “Your safety is important to me,” he snarled. “Important to the clan as a whole. I’ve enough to keep me busy here without having to wonder where you are and whether you’re safe.”

  “I’ll check in with you, if that’s your fear.”

  “Why are you making this so difficult?”

  “Because, this is important to me. If it weren’t, I wouldn’t put up roadblocks.”

  He was quiet for a long time.

  So was I.

  One of us might say something we’d end up regretting if we didn’t control our tempers first.

  “I’d prefer it if you returned. I would also appreciate it.”

  My free hand curled into a fist. He was fighting to remain calm and civil, and I had to do the same—no matter how I wanted to tell him exactly what I thought about his preferences just then. “I understand. However, there’s something I must do for myself. I will return once I’m finished.”

  “What could be so important?”

  I sighed, unable to answer. “What if I promise to think about postponing my trip? Would that smooth things over for the time being?”

  His laugh sounded more like a bark. “Yes, but only if you vow to actually think it over and not simply tell me you will to get me off the phone.”

  “Would I do a thing like that?” I tried to lighten to mood by chuckling, but it didn’t help.

  “Tell me you will.”

  I rolled my eyes but suppressed an audible sigh. It would only make things worse if I voiced my disdain. “I promise. I’ll think it over.”

  He ended the call. It was the right thing to do. One of us would say something we couldn’t take back if we kept talking in circles.

  I threw the phone onto the bed before flinging myself onto it, staring at the ceiling. Damn him for speaking to me like I was nothing but a child, or some underling for him to command. Leadership had gone to his head. I hadn’t wanted to admit the thought to myself while I was there, under the mountain. It would be traitorous to think along those lines and would undoubtedly color my interactions with Alan and the rest of the clan. I couldn’t risk that.

  While I was away? On my own for the first time in as long as I could remember? That was a far different situation.

  6

  Keira

  I had no idea how much time had passed. There was no way to tell.

  I stupidly left my phone in the backpack which, for all I knew, was still lying where I’d dropped it by the boulders. Damn my clumsiness. Damn my stupidity, too, because if I had half a brain, I wouldn’t have approached those… whatever they were. Dragons, people, whatever.

  There were no windows. There were no lights—or, if there were, nobody had bothered to turn them on. Only a faint glow gave me anything to see by. I guessed it came from the tunnel leading to the cells.

  I was the only one locked up. I assumed so. I couldn’t hear anybody else. Not even any breathing when I held my own breath. Just… nothing.

  Except for a faint humming noise. I walked around the perimeter of the cell, listening hard. It didn’t seem to get any louder or softer no matter where I stood. What was it? A generator? Or whatever the generator was powering?

  No. That made no sense. Then again, neither did the fact that I was in a cell under a mountain. It was the only explanation—I hadn’t been able to see where they were taking me thanks to the blindfold, but there hadn’t been any buildings around where we fought. Only the mountain, and the mouth of a cave which led inside.

  Who were these people? What were these people? I couldn’t have imagined the dragons, especially since they reacted the way they did. Surprised, upset. Not disbelieving. They didn’t tell me I was crazy, did they? Nope. Because they knew I was telling the truth.

  What did that truth mean?

  “Hello?” I called out, getting a little desperate. And a little hungry. “Are you just going to leave me here to die? Will you at least tell me why I’m here? Why are you doing this?” And why did they attack as soon as they saw me? Instead of asking who I was, why I was there, they ran at me like it was time to take my head off.

  I didn’t get an answer. I hadn’t expected one. That would’ve been too easy.

  I slid to the floor, still holding onto the bars, still looking down the tunnel toward that faint, glowing light. That light was the only hope I had.

  Until it got brighter.

  At first, I was sure it was my imagination playing tricks. I wanted the light to be brighter. I wanted somebody to come and tell me it was all a mistake, that they were letting me go.

  Soon, footsteps echoed down the tunnel. I got to my feet and willed myself to stop shaking. I could handle anything they threw at me. I’d handled the situation outside pretty well until the three of them had decided to work together, hadn’t I?

  No matter how I worked to psych myself up, it didn’t matter very much when I realized a about dozen people were coming toward me.

  “Somebody hit the lights,” one of them called out. A man. And just like that, warm light flooded the cells, and the tunnel.

  I squinted against the sudden change and backed away from the bars until my back hit the wall behind me. So many of them. Where had they come from? They couldn’t possibly live here.

  Could they?

  I searched their faces as they approached and finally came to a stop outside the cell. They looked at me like I was an animal in the zoo—curious, interested. Maybe a little nervous, like I would be if I were outside the cage of a predator.

  But I was just one person, and they were…

  Oh, shit. The eyes. All of them. They all had that golden ring around their irises. Did that mean they were all like the ones I’d seen outside? They looked like humans and were all dressed in modern clothes—jeans, sweats, leggings, sweaters—but so had the ones outside.

  One of them, a tall man—which, really, described most of the men—stepped forward. “Who are you?” he asked in a deep, rich voice with that same Scottish twang to it.

  “My name is Keira,” I replied. No hesitation. It wasn’t the time to play games.

  “Why are you here, Keira?”

  “I was looking for somebody. I thought he lived near here. I didn’t mean to—”

  “You trespassed on our land,” the man pointed out, cutting me off. “You were not invited here.”

  “I know that. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your land, or anybody’s land in particular.” I looked at all of them, my eyes traveling over their faces. At least one of them had to feel bad for me. Didn’t they?

  It didn’t seem that way. I was the trespasser, the one who’d breached their borders. I was the enemy.

  “And yet you said your friend lived here,” the man pointed out.

  I barely held back a sigh. “I think he lived here, or was staying near here. I got an email from him which I traced back to this location, and I thought this would be as good a place as any to start. Please, believe me. I didn’t mean to trespass.”

  “And I suppose you didn’t mean to attack the three of us out there, either.” I would’ve sworn under oath that the woman who hurled that reminder at me was the one I kicked in the jaw. Her hair was longer than her friend’s, arranged in a series of braids halfway back along her head before curling down her back. Same hair. Same blue, gold-ringed eyes.

  Flawless face. Not even a bruise where she had been bleeding earlier.

  Good thing my stomach was empty, since it started to twist and turn at the sight of her not having any marks from our scuffle.

  I had to speak, though, since all of them glared at me. “I didn’t want to attack any of you. You ran at me three at a time. And you didn’t exactly look friendly. I know the difference.”

  The man who was doing all the speaking up to that point—he struck me as being the leader of the group—looked back at the w
oman, who sort of ducked her head. He sighed. “That explains that.”

  “She shouldn’t have been able to do what she did.” I recognized the man who’d dragged me to the cell. He had a mean punch. My head was still ringing a little.

  “I fight for a living,” I explained before anybody could question me. “Mixed martial arts. It comes naturally to me.”

  “Yes. It would, wouldn’t it?”

  “What does that mean?” I asked as they all nodded and muttered to themselves.

  The leader raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down. “You said you were looking for someone here. A friend.”

  “Yes.”

  “Seeing as how none of us has any friends outside of our group, it seems patently impossible for this to be the case.”

  I looked around at them again. “What are you? Some sort of cult?”

  They laughed gently. Some of them shook their heads.

  “Hardly,” he said. “But let me assure you, either you’ve come to us with an inexpert little lie about knowing someone here, or you’re gravely mistaken as to the location of your friend’s home. Considering the mark on the back of your neck, I would venture to guess it’s the former rather than the latter.”

  Something about the way he said that reminded me of Tamhas. He would speak that way, wouldn’t he? “Maybe you’ve met him? His name is Thomas—or Tamhas, originally.” I liked it better than the modernized version.

  All whispers and murmuring stopped like somebody had flipped a switch. “What did you say?” the leader asked.

  What did I do wrong this time? “Tamhas.”

  “How do you know this person? That name?”

  “We met online.”

  None of them said another word. They turned, almost as one, and hurried away. I rushed to the bars, desperate. “I’m hungry! Can’t you give me something to eat? Or to drink? Please!”

  None of them answered.

  7