A Dragon Speaks Her Name: A Nocturne Falls Universe story

by Kira Nyte

  Sam jutted his chin toward the bench in the back of the vehicle after the team rolled the gurney into its designated spot. “Go ahead. I’ll fill Bridget in. She’ll want to know the outcome, since she was a customer in her place.”

  “Thanks.”

  Zareh climbed into the back of the ambulance and sat at the front of the bench. The paramedic staying in the back with him closed the rear doors and gave the all clear to the driver. The ambulance pulled smoothly into motion.

  “Is she stable?” Zareh asked. He watched her heart rhythm on a portable monitor after the paramedic hooked her up to pads and leads.

  “Vitals are stable. Heart rate normal.” The man grabbed some small packages from the overhead cabinet and laid them out on the blanket he had draped over the woman. “Respiratory rate normal.”

  Zareh dug his fingers into his thighs when he caught the glint of a needle. The paramedic looked over at him from his position hunched above the woman’s left arm.

  “If blood makes you queasy, look away. She needs IV access so I can run fluids in transit.”

  “Blood doesn’t make me queasy. You’re about to stick that thing in her arm. I don’t like it.”

  The paramedic ignored his complaint, palpated a vein, and started the IV. Zareh ground his teeth, swallowing down the burn in his throat, and glanced at the woman’s purse in his hand. While the paramedic set up a bag of fluid, Zareh nonchalantly rifled through the surface items in the purse. He shuffled through a few envelopes, found a driver’s license, and committed the name to memory.

  “Do you know if she had anything to drink?”

  “A beer.” That much he’d seen.

  “Medications?”

  Oh, he was winging this. “No.”

  “Medical history?”

  “Nope.”

  Goddess forgive him for impersonating a boyfriend.

  “Possibility she’s pregnant?”

  Zareh stared at the paramedic as he waited for an answer. Why did that question rile him so much?

  He growled. “Anything’s possible, right?”

  The paramedic continued through a list of basic questions. Zareh bit out responses. He could only hope his answers didn’t put the woman in any danger.

  They couldn’t have arrived at the clinic any sooner. Zareh followed the paramedics and the gurney through a rear entrance to a back room where paranormals were treated when hospitals were out of the question. A nurse waited for them. She helped transfer the woman to a stretcher like those he’d seen in emergency rooms.

  Zareh moved to the corner of the room while a second nurse came in to help, followed by a doctor. He was addressed once in regards to his relationship to the patient.

  “Fiancé.”

  Oh, he’d burn in the hellfires of Hades for that one, but there was no way he would be forced to leave the woman his dragon strove to protect.

  Even if it made absolutely no sense.

  Roughly twenty minutes after they arrived, fluids running, blood taken for lab work, and a thorough assessment performed by a nurse and doctor, Zareh sat alone in the room with the woman.

  Janet Dane, according to her license. Considering how much she had stashed in her oversized purse, he was glad he was able to find any sort of identification at all. Half tempted to thoroughly rifle through the rest of her purse to better make sense of his dragon’s insistence on staying with this woman, he placed the purse on the floor at Janet’s bedside and slouched in the chair. He had no right to go through her stuff.

  He took the calm moment to observe the fine features he hadn’t had an opportunity to appreciate earlier. She was built like a dancer, tall and lithe and graceful. Her hair was definitely her own, not a wig to take part in Nocturne Falls’ Halloween hype. She had gentle facial features, from the slope of her dark brows and the upward tilt of her eyes to the full curve of lips and a nose that was not stubborn sharp. Her lashes were thick and, if he recalled, framed eyes the color of Arctic ice, a pure cool blue with darker rings of cobalt around the outer rim.

  He pressed his lips together and curled his fingers into his palms to refrain from tracing the delicate cut of her cheekbone and jaw. A single silver stud decorated her earlobe. She wore no other jewelry. Most importantly, her left hand was bare of rings.

  “Janet Dane.” The name did not sound right on his tongue. “There is something awfully familiar about you.”

  Perhaps that was why his dragon’s protective nature erupted full-force. He simply couldn’t put his finger on what was familiar.

  Janet gasped.

  Zareh lifted his gaze to her face. Her eyes shot open.

  “Where am I?” she whispered. Her expression turned from the calm of unconsciousness to a drawn, almost pained look. “Oh no. Oh, stop.”

  Janet bolted upright and pressed her hands to her ears. She frantically kicked the covers away before her arms flailed like mad.

  “Going crazy!”

  “Hey there.” Zareh lunged toward the stretcher when Janet wiggled too close to the edge and almost tumbled off. He grabbed her arm. A startling shock of heat exploded through his body, an unexplained delight that should not have come from this woman.

  To his absolute horror, Janet shrieked, violently shoving him away. “Don’t touch me! Don’t…don’t!”

  When her wide eyes met his, he took a long step back. He had never seen fear so raw in his entire life.

  And that was a very long life.

  She mumbled incoherently as she slid off the stretcher to stand on unsteady feet.

  “Wait, the IV—”

  Janet cringed as the IV tore from her arm. A thin stream of blood crept down her arm, but it didn’t stop her from her muttering something about “voices” and “fire” and “apocalypse.”

  “My purse. Oh no! Where’s—”

  “Janet, calm down. It’s right here.”

  Feeling befuddled—a feat hard to accomplish—Zareh lifted the purse into view. He intended to hand it over, but the woman latched onto one strap and yanked before he could. Zareh let go. Janet stumbled back. He vaulted over the bed and caught her before she smacked her head into the wall. The purse crashed to the ground, the contents spilling across the floor.

  Zareh couldn’t believe how bad she shook. Her heart raced at a frightening speed, one that echoed in his ears until it felt like his eyes vibrated. Her breaths were nothing more than gasps in her state of hysteria. He’d make it a point to review every medication the doctor ordered for her and research adverse reactions.

  After he calmed her down.

  “Let go!” Janet snapped her arms free and dropped to her knees. Zareh crouched down beside her and set her purse upright. “Don’t touch it.”

  His gaze dropped to an ornate box that had toppled out of the bag. He froze. Janet snatched it up, cast him a frightened look, and started to shove it into her purse. Zareh stopped her with a firm hold on her wrist. This time, he did not let her go despite her struggles.

  Disbelief washed over him. She grabbed the box with her other hand and shifted her body away from him, very obviously trying to protect her possession. His gaze narrowed on her horrified expression. Her eyes were wide, wild, cast with shadows of panic and confusion and desperation. She looked like a woman on the verge of a complete mental breakdown.

  Which would make sense if…

  “What voices do you hear?” he asked. If that box was what he thought…If the impossible was sitting on the floor in front of him, trying to scramble away from him as he held fast to her wrist…

  Janet’s eyes took on a shimmer as tears welled. She gave her arm another fierce tug, tucking the box close to her chest with her free hand. She whispered, “Please, let me go. I need to go.”

  “I’m worried for you.” A complete truth. He released her wrist, lifting his hands in surrender. “You were mumbling about hearing voices.” He was tempted to give his assumption a test, but feared his hopes were soaring too high too fast, and he’d crash and burn with disappoint
ment. The chances were pretty much impossible. “Are they true voices? Or are they thoughts?”

  Janet’s body tensed. Her gaze stopped zooming all over the place and finally focused on him. Her eyes pulsed with the weight of her emotional turmoil. Her anxiety. Her chin quivered. Dear Goddess, Zareh wanted to take that fear and pain away. His dragon ached to see her in such distress.

  But those eyes. It was her eyes that held so much familiarity.

  Since his frightened doe wasn’t answering him about the voices, he tried a different angle. He needed to be certain. A hundred and fifty percent certain. Guessing could put him and his clan in danger. It could put this woman in danger.

  “Do you know what’s in that box?” he asked, his voice low, soothing, unlike the warm curls of fire that churned deep in his gut. Janet gave a jerk of her head. No. “Did you find it somewhere?”

  Janet pressed her lips together and looked away. Anguish twisted her features. She drew her knees tight to her chest, folding in on herself.

  Zareh’s heart shattered. He reached forward and slipped the flat of his hand against her cheek. The shocks of heat sparked up his arm and filled him from head to toe. Everything so far was telling him his instinct was spot on.

  Slowly, he turned her face toward him. Nudging the purse and its contents out of his way with his knee, he shifted a little closer to the woman.

  “It’s important that I know the truth. Did you find the box?”

  He barely heard her whisper, “No.”

  “It was given to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long ago?”

  Her eyes squeezed shut. Something shimmered down the side of her nose, cresting at the curve of her upper lip. He wiped the tear away without a second thought. The tension in her jaw resonated against the heel of his palm.

  “How long ago?” he repeated, softer.

  “Why? Why is it important to you? Do you know what’s in the box?” Janet sniffled, but didn’t look at him. “What does it matter?”

  “It matters quite a bit, actually.” When Janet remained silent, he decided to take a shot. At any moment, some member of the facility would come through that closed door to check on the patient. He was surprised someone hadn’t already done so. The noise alone should have drawn concern. “Talius would want to make sure you were safe.”

  Janet’s head snapped up so fast he worried she would give herself whiplash. New tears trekked down her cheeks. A fine crease formed across her forehead.

  When she turned her shoulders a tad toward Zareh, he looked her over through new eyes.

  Yes, she had Talius’s eyes. His hair color when he was younger. His nose and his mouth.

  The fear was uncharacteristic of his late Keeper, but perhaps not entirely uncharacteristic of a female descendant who did not understand the significance of her gifts, or her life.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he.” A quiet sob fled her lips. “They killed him.”

  So she knew Talius had been attacked. He frowned.

  “My father and my uncle must’ve anticipated an attack. My car was packed and ready for me to flee by the time I got there. I heard the struggle before my uncle shoved me out the door and urged me to leave.” Janet used the back of the hand holding the box to wipe her eyes. Either she wasn’t aware or didn’t care that the box scraped across the back of his hand. A faint hum of power caressed his skin vanquishing any residual doubt. “I was holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, they escaped.”

  “Talius was your father?”

  The corner of Janet’s mouth tugged south until she covered it with the back of her hand. She nodded.

  “By blood?”

  “Of course. Why?”

  Why? Oh, sweet flight wind, she had no idea.

  “My name is Zareh Lutherone.” He traced the delicate curve of her chin, hoping to garner a reaction. Maybe recognizing his name would ease her anxiety. That recognition never came. He prompted, “What’s your name?”

  “Janet.”

  Zareh groaned and pinned her with a “nice try” look. “Real name.”

  “He said never to give it out.”

  “I’m sure Talius would tell you otherwise if he knew I were the one asking.” To give the woman a nudge, he offered, “I’m aware that your surname is Drayce. Your lineage dates back thousands of years as one of the oldest families of the Firestorm tatsu clan.” He flicked his thumb away from her chin and tapped the box. “If I’m correct, that is a dragonstone from the dragon to whom you are Keeper.”

  The color drained from her face, leaving her ashen. She lifted the box enough to look at it.

  “He told you to guard it with your life. Whatever you do, do not let it fall into the hands of an enemy.” Zareh almost forgot about the twisted medallion he had found at Talius’s house. He lowered his hand from Janet’s face and dug it out, his own heart rate picking up. Concern and excitement warred inside him. “This belongs to the Baroqueth slayers. They’re dragon slayers in search of treasure hoards and the power they can siphon from a dragon’s heart. They are an ancient race of sorcerers from as early as the first dragon is known to exist.”

  “You know, I thought I was crazy hearing all these voices.” Her voice quivered as she spoke. “But I think you might be crazy, too, actually talking about dragons.”

  Zareh stared at her for a long moment before he smiled. Drayce. Talius did have a child. An extremely rare female of Keeper’s blood.

  Now he understood the relentless pull to her, the inexplicable need to protect. He may not have recognized the woman, but his dragon sniffed her out for exactly who she was.

  The promise of a future for his dragon’s bloodline.

  Chapter Five

  Kaylae didn’t know why she accepted Zareh’s offer to stay at his home after he heard where she was hunkered down. Apparently, the Pinehurst Inn was the slum of the slum. Nothing but trouble rented out the rooms. At first, she refused. Then she distinctly recalled the two men who hung outside the dilapidated building, and their abominable thoughts. If she were honest with herself, she did not want to go back there. Not even for her duffel bag.

  “I wouldn’t let you go back there alone. And there is no argument in that,” Zareh said. His protective behavior was endearing, and not lost on her. He didn’t push about the box, or her real first name. “Until you feel you can trust me, I’ll call you Doe, since I don’t know your first name. Janet doesn’t do a thing for you.”

  So, Doe she was.

  When the nurse returned and discovered her substandard patient behavior of leaping from the bed and dislodging her IV, she earned herself another needle, the rest of the IV fluids, and a review of the results of her blood work.

  Borderline anemic and definitely dehydrated.

  The diagnosis came with her discharge paperwork and a stern reminder to eat proper food and drink liquids. Beer didn’t count.

  “Be a good fiancé and make sure she’s drinking that water,” the nurse instructed Zareh. Fiancé?! That shocked Kaylae into a gape that got a questioning look from the nurse, but shoved some warmth into the void the last week had left in her spirit. She allowed Zareh, pretend fiancé extraordinaire, to escort her to the parking lot.

  She was happy enough to be in the passenger seat of his lavish SUV as they pulled up to the ramshackle hotel. The sun had begun a steady decline over the horizon, and the scene outside the Pinehurst Inn was less than promising.

  The group of two unpleasant men had grown to six, and they had moved closer to her room. They turned toward the SUV as Zareh pulled in close to the door to her room and popped the shifter into park.

  “Don’t move,” he warned.

  “You don’t have to worry about that.” She eyed the unsavory crowd. She sighed, forcing the men’s crude thoughts from her head as Zareh cut the engine and climbed out.

  She couldn’t help but admire the confidence that filled Zareh’s steps. His frame was formidable. The impending dusk made him look bigger. He stared down the
men as he rounded the front of the SUV to the passenger door, held it open for her, and extended a hand.

  “What a gentleman,” she complimented.

  Zareh’s hard gaze softened when he turned moss-green eyes on her. They were beautiful, rich, and unusual all at the same time. After her meltdown in the clinic, when he somehow managed to soothe her broken soul, his eyes did things to her she’d never experienced before. Well, not his actual eyes, but the way they displayed his thoughts and feelings so clearly. What touched her most deeply was the grief he seemed to suffer at the mention of her father’s demise.

  He was quickly winning her over, and that would only spell danger and heartache for her in the end.

  After all, who wanted a girlfriend who heard voices and thoughts and suffered anxiety attacks when they got to be too much?

  For now, she would bask in the glory of his intense presence.

  She placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her out of the vehicle before he closed the door and locked it up. He placed himself between the guys and her, draping an arm around her shoulder. His hold spoke of protection, but also possession. His fingers molded around her shoulder and he kept her close to his side.

  His body was hard as rock beneath the supple leather jacket and the simple V-neck T-shirt. Even in her low heels, he towered over her, a full head taller.

  “Looks like he got himself a good time.”

  Kaylae jerked a glance toward the group of onlookers. Zareh paused and followed her gaze. A threatening air poured off him on a wave of unseen energy. The group’s laid-back attitude shifted and changed. A few headed away down the walkway and disappeared into a room. Another went to a rusted-out car, got in and took off, the taillights quickly disappearing.

  That left just the original two from earlier.

  One had the smarts to look away.

  The other met Zareh’s gaze with a smug smile.

  “Not many of you ritzy peeps come this way. ’Specially none looking for quality time.” The creep wagged his brows. “Right, sugah?”