Drakon's Past

by N. J. Walters

  “I won’t let you hurt him,” she vowed. “I’ll kill you all first.” She had no idea how she’d make it happen, but she would.

  She pulled her arm forward and then drove her elbow back into her captor’s midsection with all her might. He gave a grunt of pain and loosened his grip. Constance yanked away from him and raced toward Nic. She’d stand by his side and fight with him to the end.

  “Stop.” It wasn’t the mercenary who called out to her, but Dent. He no longer appeared quite so debonair. His clothing was mussed, his hair disheveled.

  She ignored him and kept running. Nic seemed a million miles away.

  Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Dent raised his weapon and aimed it, not at Nic, but at her.

  Nic roared as a shot rang out.

  Constance expected a jolt of pain but felt nothing. She reached Nic’s side, and he swept her between his front legs, curling his tail around her. She put her hands on it and pushed, needing to see what was happening. When he didn’t lower it, she gave it a couple light taps. His tail retreated the smallest bit, just enough for her to be able to see over it. She wasn’t stupid and stayed behind the impenetrable barrier.

  An impossible scene met her gaze. Dent was lying on the ground, a hole in the center of his forehead. His own man had killed him. Everyone was dead but her, Nic, and the one remaining mercenary.

  “My name is Oscar Denning.” He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but he was still holding his weapon.

  Nic gave a huff, smoke pouring from his nostrils. “Why? Why did you kill Dent?” His voice was deeper, almost inhuman when he was in this form.

  “I’m a member of the Dragon Guard.”

  That meant nothing to her, but she sensed it did to Nic. His entire body stiffened. “I don’t believe you. You were there with Dent when he captured me.”

  Oscar holstered his weapon. “Many of us have been undercover for years, working our way into the ranks of the Knights of the Dragon. You’d have been readied for transport, but the dose of the containment drug would have been lower than necessary. You’d have been awake and able to escape before you reached Dent’s holding facility.”

  Nic shifted, his entire body morphing from dragon to man in a heartbeat. He stepped in front of her, leaving her staring at his naked back. She pushed to her feet, keeping both men in her sights.

  “Why should I believe you?” Nic demanded. “It’s a convenient lie now that the rest of your comrades are dead.”

  Oscar inclined his head to concede the point.

  “And you also put your hands on Constance.” The underlying fury was unmistakable. She wasn’t sure if he was mad at her for being caught or at Oscar for taking her. Most likely both.

  “I unlocked the closet door. I wanted to know what was going on,” she muttered. God did she ever feel like an idiot. If she’d read that in a book, she’d have decided the heroine was too stupid to live. But in the heat of the moment, in her fear for Nic, staying safe hadn’t mattered. Knowing what was happening to him had been a priority.

  Nic half turned, keeping Oscar in his sights, and pinned her with his dark gaze. “You what?”

  “You heard me.” She did not want to have to repeat herself, especially since she’d likely do it again given the same circumstances.

  “I took a chance you had Ms. Owens stashed somewhere inside. I’d almost given up hope, when I saw the closet door opening and was able to persuade her to join me. I figured if I had her with me, you’d be more likely to listen to what I had to say.”

  “Persuade?” Nic’s voice was soft and deadly. “At gun point? You took her as a hostage.” All Nic’s attention was back on Oscar. Constance shivered, glad it wasn’t her pinned beneath his furious glare.

  “Yes.”

  Wow, Constance wasn’t sure whether Oscar was crazy or had balls of steel. To admit that was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Nic was already pissed off enough as it was.

  “You’ve heard of us, haven’t you?” Oscar continued.

  “Only very recently,” Nic admitted. She wanted to know who or what the heck this Dragon Guard was.

  “We’ve been around since the dawn of your kind, trying to find ways to protect you. The society is small. The duties handed down from father to son or mother to daughter. Sometimes only one or two members of a family even know about us. We’ve built up a trustworthy network over the centuries. And we’ve watched the Knights. We have databases filled with information about them.”

  “Why?” Nic stared at Oscar. He might be totally naked and unarmed, but there was no doubting he was in charge of the situation. Constance felt very unnecessary. All she’d managed to do was get captured and be used to distract Nic. Not exactly what she’d wanted to do. She’d been a burden rather than a help. He was right when he’d called her a liability.

  “Look, I know you have no reason to trust me,” Oscar began.

  “No, I don’t.” There was pure steel in Nic’s tone. This was a man who trusted very few, if anyone. She thought he trusted the man he’d talked to on the phone, but maybe not. With Nic, it was hard to tell.

  Oscar began to speak in a language she didn’t understand. Nic jerked back as though he’d been struck and began to sway. Constance jumped in front of him. “Stop it,” she yelled at Oscar. Whatever he was saying was hurting Nic. She could sense it. See it in the pallor of his face.

  Oscar stopped abruptly and raised his hands in a sign of peace once again.

  “Where did you learn that?” Nic asked, his voice hoarse.

  “It’s the language of our founder. A woman from ancient times. We have scrolls she kept, and the language has been passed down from parent to child ever since.” Oscar looked at the ground, seemingly studying the sand and dirt. “She was the mother of a drakon, a child born of a dragon father and a human woman.”

  Oh shit. It couldn’t be Nic’s mother. He’d told her she’d betrayed him, abandoned him.

  “I don’t understand.” Nic’s powerful voice was little more than a whisper.

  “She knew she couldn’t protect her son in the village they lived in, so she sent him away. The village elders were planning to kill and burn the boy if he stayed, so she told him to go. She didn’t know if he was strong enough to survive such an attack, so she pretended to drive him out with the others. She’d taught him how to live in the desert, knew he was tough enough to make it. He was supposed to go to the village’s summer hunting grounds, but by the time she was able to gather supplies and journey there, he was nowhere to be found. She spent the rest of her life searching for him.”

  “No, that can’t be.” Nic fell to his knees, and Constance went down with him. She wrapped her arms around him, trying to comfort him, but it was as though she weren’t even there. Nic was lost in the memories of his past.

  Oscar slowly reached into a zippered front pocket with one hand, keeping the other one raised, and withdrew something. “She found this at the site where her son was supposed to be and kept it her entire life as a talisman of hope. It’s come down through my line, passed from father to son.” He tossed it toward Nic.

  The ruby glinted in the sunshine. Nic only stared at it, so Constance picked it up and held it out to him. When he still didn’t take it, she opened his hand and placed it on his palm.

  He stared at it for the longest time. Then he tilted back his head and roared. She slapped her hands over her ears and hunched down to make herself as small as possible, but the sound still rattled her teeth and made her bones ache. Oscar was shoved back by the force of Nic’s anguish, stumbling down on one knee.

  Oscar’s eyes widened as he stared at Nic, awe replacing the fear in his gaze. “You’re her son, aren’t you? Oh my God.” He scrambled back to his feet. “She eventually remarried and had another son. One totally human. She trained him that it was his sacred duty to protect all information about drakons and to protect them whenever he could. That duty has come down through my line for thousands of years. Only
one is chosen each generation.

  He walked over to stand in front of them. “I’m of your blood.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Nic was at a loss. After all these years of believing his mother had cast him out, betrayed him, he was learning the situation, as viewed through his young eyes, had been something totally different.

  His mother had been trying to protect him. She’d planned to meet him. He had a vague memory of her telling him to go to their summer hunting grounds, so he’d gone. It had never occurred to him she’d planned to join him.

  He’d been too devastated. He’d loved his mother deeply and completely and had thought she’d loved him until she stood alongside the rest of the village and cast him out. His young heart had been broken.

  He stared down at the ruby in the palm of his hand. He’d cried the first few nights alone. Cried copious amounts, shedding precious drakon tears that had turned to rubies. Now he was holding one of those original tears. The rest had been used in the early years to finance what had become the basis of his and his brothers’ wealth.

  His mother had loved him. And when she hadn’t been able to find him, she’d started a secret society to protect all of his kind. If it was possible to die from heartbreak and remorse, Nic would be dead on the ground. All these years spent hating his mother when she’d been trying to protect him.

  “Nic.” Constance was beside him, one arm around his waist, the other rubbing his arm. And Oscar was before him, a part of his mother, a part of him, a part of his bloodline, the human part.

  “You know about the Dragon Guard, don’t you?” Oscar queried.

  “Yes.” Ezra’s woman had been approached by one of them. Tarrant was still trying to determine if they were legitimate or not. Nic buried the emotions that threatened to shatter his composure. He couldn’t afford to accept Oscar’s words at face value. Not yet.

  It would be just like the Knights to use an opportunity like this to learn more about his kind, another way to distract and try to capture him. He slowly pushed to his feet. “Gather the bodies.”

  Oscar didn’t hesitate. He walked over to Dent and dragged him to the center of the yard. Nic was very aware of Constance’s hand on his arm. He shook it off. He couldn’t handle any more emotion right now. He was too close to the edge.

  His dragon was fighting to get out, the sheer shock of finding out his mother had loved him—both parts of him—enough to protect him, made the more primitive side of him want to fly and lash out. In his current frame of mind, his dragon could easily cause havoc and destruction that would be detrimental to all his kind.

  But he was a drakon, not a full-blooded dragon. He could control the dragon half of himself with ruthless effort.

  He stalked away and began gathering bodies, or what was left of them. He piled their weapons alongside them. “Are there more weapons?” he asked Oscar.

  “There are two trucks about a half mile back.”

  “Do you have the keys for both?”

  Oscar reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He tossed them toward Nic.

  “Constance, get me a pair of jeans.” He kept his eyes on Oscar but heard Constance hurry inside. He knew he was being an ass ignoring her, but he couldn’t function any other way. Any sign of sympathy and he might lose it completely.

  “Here.” She thrust his pants at him. He took them and stuffed the keys and the ruby in the front pocket and then pulled them on.

  “Go inside.” He didn’t want her to see what he was about to do.

  “No.” Her blunt refusal surprised him enough that he finally looked at her. Her shoulders were squared, and her eyes were red. It was obvious she’d shed a few tears. Her clothes were dirty and her skin pale. She looked tired. And why wouldn’t she be? She’d been dragged into his world and faced one ordeal after another. It was a wonder she was even on her feet.

  Most women would have screamed and fainted or run away, or at least be in hysterics. Constance might have red eyes, but there was still fight in her. This woman would never give up.

  He put his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t want you to see this.” She seemed to accept his dragon side easily enough, but he doubted that would continue if she watched him disintegrating people in front of her. He wanted her to view him as a man, not a killing beast.

  “I know what you are,” she told him. As though she’d read his thoughts, she continued. “This is war. You have to protect yourself and your kind.”

  He dropped his hands and pulled away. He knew he should feel more, but truthfully, he’d stuffed his emotions away so deeply he was almost numb.

  He turned back to Oscar. “Let’s go.” Then he suddenly stopped. “How did you find us?” That had been bothering him. “Was it Constance’s phone?”

  “I put a tracker on her van.”

  “And you lead Dent here?” The desire to kill Oscar was almost overwhelming. Constance could have been killed.

  “Yes.” Oscar met his gaze dead on. “I knew he wouldn’t give up. I figured this way I could help contain the situation before he potentially told another ranking member of the Knights about you. I figured you’d live in an isolated area. After seeing you in action, I knew you were capable of handling all of us.”

  “What about the darts?” Nic had assumed they were filled with whatever concoction the Knights used to weaken and contain drakons.

  Oscar shook his head. “I replaced them with ones filled with water.”

  Anger threatened to bubble up, but Nic ruthlessly suppressed it. Either the man was telling the truth or he was crazy. He could have just as easily been killed alongside the rest of the mercenaries. “Get the tracker and add it to the pile.” He wasn’t about to leave it there. Oscar might be on the up and up, but Nic wasn’t leaving anything to chance.

  Oscar nodded and went to the front fender, returning with a small metal disc. He tossed it on the pile.

  “Lead the way.” He felt the weight of Constance’s gaze on him as he followed Oscar down the road. He began to worry about her even before he was out of sight. Would she even be there when he got back? She could get into her van and go. Would she be all right? He should have put his arms around her and hugged her.

  He was thinking about everything else except the one big revelation. His mother hadn’t abandoned him. He shook his head to drive the thought back. Not now. He had to keep his focus in case Oscar was lying. He didn’t think he was, but Nic wasn’t willing to trust the man, not yet.

  He studied Oscar, taking in his olive-toned skin and black hair. They had that in common. Oscar was tall, about six-one, and fit. Maybe they were related through his mother, maybe not. If he decided to trust the man, he’d have that checked. Maybe Tarrant could trace Oscar’s family tree. He didn’t know whether DNA testing would help, but he wouldn’t willingly give a sample of his blood to a lab to find out.

  “Here we go.” Oscar stopped by one of the trucks. Nic walked around to the back and checked both. No men but several crates that contained more weapons.

  “Drive back to the house.” Nic climbed in and started the engine. He waited, letting the other man drive ahead of him.

  Getting back to Constance was a priority. His whole being seemed to sigh with relief when he drove into the yard. She was sitting on the front step waiting. It seemed obscene for her to be doing so with all those dead bodies not far away.

  He drove his truck right up next to the bodies, parked, and climbed out. Oscar did the same. “You need that truck?”

  Oscar nodded. “If I want to get back to the city.”

  “I can take him back.” Constance’s offer was like a knife to Nic’s heart. She was planning to leave him. And why wouldn’t she? He’d accused her of betraying him again, had done his best to drive her away. And maybe it was for the best. He was in no state of mind to be around anyone.

  “Leave it,” Nic ordered him.

  Oscar nodded. “What now?”

  “Stand back.” When he started to move closer
to Constance, Nic growled at him. “Over there.” He pointed Oscar in the other direction. To give the man credit, he didn’t smirk or protest. He simply walked to where Nic had pointed.

  Nic stripped off his jeans and shifted. His dragon, eager to come out, burst forth. He flexed his wings, raising a cloud of dust. He circled around so Constance was behind him. He wanted her protected on the off chance anything went wrong.

  Fire flared inside him, hot and powerful. He opened his mouth and released the flames. Like a conductor leading a symphony orchestra, he coaxed the flames to where he wanted them to be, pushing them gently into the openings in the pile. He built a bonfire of such enormous heat that even the metal of the trucks began to slowly disintegrate. But he did it so skillfully not even a single leaf of the surrounding vegetation was singed the slightest bit.

  As the fire built higher, Nic gloried in it. He walked closer to the flames and put his arm out. Constance cried out in fear, and he whirled around, ready to protect her.

  But she wasn’t under attack. She was staring at the fire dancing between his massive dragon hands, her eyes wide, her hand over her mouth.

  It was then he understood she’d been afraid for him. He wanted to reassure her, but speech was beyond him. He turned back to the fire and gave a roar of triumph. He had defeated his enemies.

  He knew the second the gas tanks in the trucks were about to explode. He built a wall of flame around the vehicles, absorbing the blast. Not a single piece of metal escaped.

  He knew it was time to bring the fire down, but a part of him was reluctant to do so. He wanted to revel in his element. But there were still questions that needed answering, and he didn’t trust Oscar, no matter who he said he was.

  Nic brought the flames lower and concentrated them, making them hotter than the Earth’s core. They burned in shades of indigo and violet, orange and deep red. And when he exhaled the last one, not a single shred remained of the men who’d died here, their vehicles, or their weapons.

  Most drakons would be exhausted after such an exercise, but he was energized. As a fire drakon, using his element only served to strengthen him. But he was hungry again. He’d expended a lot of energy.