by Willa Hart
The Fire of the Dragon's Heart
Harem of Fire Book 4
Willa Hart
Contents
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Afterword
About the Author
About This Book
My best friend is still missing, time’s running out, and I’m all out of ideas…
My five guys and I travelled to Europe to rescue Zoe from her dragon kidnappers, but my newly developed powers are failing me. Instead of pinpointing her location, the most I can manage is a little static and a lot of frustration.
When we team up with a group of local rebels, we learn more about our common enemies — including exactly how dangerous they are. An unexpected attack also proves they’re always one step ahead of us.
Only the strengthening bond my boys and I share seems to be going right — until an unthinkable betrayal threatens us all.
The Fire of the Dragon’s Heart is Book 4 in the Harem of Fire series. Find the rest of the series HERE.
Chapter 1
I floated through the air, suspended between the vibrating strings of space and time, a mere speck of dust going nowhere and seeing nothing. My eyes were screwed shut, though my boys could probably see them flitting back and forth under my eyelids as I searched through the viscera of feelings and instincts and flurries of the cosmos for a clue about Zoe.
We’d landed in Romania a week earlier, and every day since, I’d searched for my best friend with my mind. So far, with no luck, but that didn’t stop me from trying several times a day. This time I tried my damnedest to open the smallest, best-hidden cavities of my mind and soul, drifting through the astral world like a grazing filter feeder, ready to catch any sign that might hint at where Zoe’s kidnappers were holding her.
My trembling hands grazed over the bump on my abdomen. No, not a baby bump — something far more treacherous. The Dragon’s Heart remained tucked in a money belt that only left my waist when I was bathing or when I was naked for some other, more pleasurable reason. After what it had done to Ash, I’d sealed the thing in a small fireproof pouch which, to our great relief, seemed to mute its presence, at least for the dragons in my life. Of course, carrying the damn thing against my skin meant I felt its bad juju every minute of every day.
The small heart-shaped rock had been the cause of major trouble for us back in Los Angeles, and I had no intention of letting it out of my control again, despite the fact I hated it with the force of a thousand suns. I wanted more than anything to destroy it, but even I knew such attempts were futile. The malum — an item infused with dark magic — had been created by the ancient evil mage, Vazha, about a billionty years ago, and it had survived all this time.
Back in California, and even on the long private flight to Romania, it had remained mostly quiet, only emitting a sort of mild pulsing that seemed to beat in time with my own heart. But ever since landing at the Cluj International Airport, the damn thing had grown louder and more insistent, which I suspected drowned out the fainter flickers of clues that might have otherwise led me to Zoe.
It lay against my belly, thumping and beating, nearly breathing with barely-restrained power. It inhaled good intentions, and then exhaled hatred. I seemed impervious to the worst of its black magic, but it still weighed me down with its evil.
Taking a deep cleansing breath, I cleared all negative thoughts from my mind and tried to reach out across the vast expanse of the blank void between Zoe and me, desperate to send her a tiny blast of love and hope she could cling to while we tried to find her. Hopefully it wouldn’t send her into a panic, like my last vision-visit to her had done. I held onto that vision as a reminder that she was still alive and unharmed. At least the last time I saw her. If she was anything else when I saw her again, someone would have hell to pay.
But as easy as it had been to find her before, now that we were on the same continent, her essence was blocked. Every time I focused on finding her, it felt as if the compass in my head spun around wildly, like I was standing on top of a giant magnet. A misty fog clouded my inner mind, leaving me quite literally directionless. It was like the second we’d landed, all the wires got crossed. Logic turned to chaos. Order turned to mayhem. Something was hiding Zoe from me. Something was blocking my access to her in a way that I wasn’t used to. And it scared the hell out of me.
Exhaustion crept over me like a steamroller, flatlining my energy. I didn’t even have the will to fight it. My shoulders slumped, my aching head drooped, and I opened my eyes with a heavy, disappointed sigh. The room swam as I tried to focus on my five guys, who hovered over me with worried expressions. I forced a small smile to assure them I was fine.
Truth was I was far from fine. My gut roiled with all the worst feelings — panic, dread, hate, grief, fear — but I needed to stay strong for them and for Zoe. For our entire mission. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, for Max too. I wanted to show him that I was tough enough, resilient enough to be the best dragon keeper ever born. I tried not to think about the fact he’d seemingly disappeared.
“Anything?” Danic asked, looming over my chair, his powerful arms crossed over his broad chest.
To anyone else, he’d have looked angry, but I knew him well enough to know that “glowering” was Danic’s version of RBF — resting bitch face. He wasn’t angry, at least not at me. He was only concerned, just like the others. As much as I hated that, there would be no point in lying to him. Every one of my boys could read me like a book.
I shook my head with a grimace, hating to admit defeat. “Not even a glimmer.”
The other four sighed heavily and drifted to different parts of our tiny new home. Of course, it wasn’t new at all, not way out here in the mountainous boonies of northwest Romania, where only tiny stone houses survived the harsh winters. Either that or nobody had wanted to build new homes in the wilds of the Apuseni Mountains for the last century or so. As beautiful as it was, I couldn’t blame them.
We’d been met at the airport by Tamar Radu, the local guide Lazlo had arranged for us. She’d hustled us into a big European SUV before our enemies spotted us and driven us out of the city and into the wild. It took a couple of hours driving on winding mountain roads to reach the remote craggy mountainside that would be our home until we rescued Zoe from the jadokari.
Several small, one-room houses built of stone lay abandoned in a rough collection — close but not too close. My boys and I shared one, while the enforcers Lazlo had sent with us chose their own dwellings. Not that there was much to choose from. The dreary homes had been built from rough-hewn, gray stones, topped with a very steep shale-tiled roof. The better to shed the snow, I figured. The exterior had once been painted white but only specks of whitewash remained. Four small, square windows barely allowed enough light in the house to illuminate the stark interior.
A large Turkish rug lay in the center of the room, its once-maroon fibers having faded to pink eons ago. I sat in a chair at the head of an old rectangular
wooden table in the middle of the room. Ryen and Hale slumped into chairs opposite each other, while Ash and Kellum wandered off to stare out the small windows. A small kitchen was set along the western wall, next to a massive hearth that was meant to heat the entire space, as well as act as the cooking platform. Thankfully at some point in the somewhat recent past, electricity had been installed, as well as running water from a nearby well, so we had a relatively modern stove and sink. A small bathroom had been added on around that same time, thank god. As tough as I wanted to be, I wasn’t ready to shit in an outhouse.
Across from the kitchen lay two beds that we’d pushed together to make one big bed. The guys had set up a watch system with the enforcers, so only four of my boys slept with me most nights, and they all remained very considerate if I wanted privacy.
Their level of devotion to me still shocked me to my core, but in the end, it all felt natural. Like destiny. We were happy to accommodate one another, the six of us working in harmony. It was just how things were meant to be. Maybe it didn’t make sense to anyone else, but that didn’t matter. Between the six of us, things were good.
And I was grateful for that, because I needed all the safety and stability I could get while on this bizarre mission in Romania. Everything else was falling apart, but we were good.
“I’ll get you some water, babe,” Danic said, padding over to the sink and filling a tin cup for me.
Kellum returned to the table and brushed a stray blonde lock behind my ear, the backs of his fingers grazing my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
I didn’t bother hiding my sadness from him. “I don’t understand it. It’s like something’s blocking her from me, like a giant wall has been erected between us. I can’t figure out how to push past it.”
“I think you might be pushing too hard,” he said, perching one of the world’s finest butt cheeks on the corner of the table. “It’s important we find Zoe, but you won’t be able to do it any better if you’re worn out.”
The water Danic handed me was cool and sweet as it slid down my throat. It reminded me of Oregon water. Having moved from one of the wettest states to one of the driest meant I’d become a connoisseur of water. Oregon’s — and this region of Romania’s — water won hands down for flavor over California, by a long shot.
“What about Max?” Hale asked.
I shook my head. “Him neither.”
“Sure would be nice if he’d come out of hiding and tell us what the hell’s going on,” Danic growled, sitting at the end of the table, a surly look on his face.
RDF — Resting Danic Face.
“He’s probably lying low because of the jadokari’s demands,” Kellum said, his expression grim. “But Lazlo says they’re getting antsy for their ransom.”
“Are they still demanding the Heart, Max and Favor?” Ash asked as he wandered over to join the rest of us.
Ever since his little “episode,” where he kinda-sorta lost his marbles, he’d maintained a bit of distance from the rest of us, even Hale. I sensed his embarrassment, and no amount of reassurance could dissuade him from taking responsibility for the insanity the Dragon’s Heart had caused him. Time would heal that wound, but I hated that he felt the slightest bit awkward with us.
“Unfortunately,” Kellum answered, “and I’m not sure how much longer we can string them along. It’s only a matter of time before they discover where we’re hiding out and come looking for at least part of their ransom.”
“Fuck them,” Danic growled from the end of the table, his gray eyes flashing red for a half-second.
“No, thanks,” Ryen said. “But if Favor can’t find Zoe, that means we need to track her down the old-fashioned way.”
“Before they find us,” Hale and Ash said simultaneously.
A hush fell over the room as we each became wrapped up in our own dark thoughts. Ash was first to voice his, which in a way warmed my heart because it meant he was returning to his old self. But I didn’t care much for the thoughts themselves.
“Unless…” He shot me an apologetic look. “Favor, is there any chance the reason you can’t find Zoe is because she’s already…gone?”
“She’s alive. This isn’t just wishful thinking, either. I can almost latch onto her signal, or whatever it is, but it’s always too far out of reach. I know she’s alive, she’s just…hidden.”
“That’s a relief,” Kellum said, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead before starting to pace the room, as was his habit these days. “Now the question is what our next step should be.”
“We should offer them the Heart, and only the Heart,” Ash said, his jaw flexing with the tension he felt. “That thing’s fucking evil as Hell itself. If they went to all that trouble to track it down, maybe they’re desperate enough to trade it for Zoe.”
“I dunno,” Hale said, moving closer to his twin, which I knew was his way of showing him support. “Seems risky.”
Kellum nodded. “We’re safe right now, but if we reach out to negotiate, they’ll know we’re here.”
“On their turf, no less,” Ryen said with a grimace.
“And then they’ll stop at nothing to find us — including Favor.”
As they discussed the situation, my hand dropped instinctively to the bulge on my stomach. As much as I hated it, wanting it as far away from me as possible, Max had been very clear the last time I’d seen him in a vision that he wanted me to protect it with everything I had. After royally screwing up a time or two when I decided not to follow his instructions to the letter, I had no intention of failing him this time. I’d seen what the Heart could do to a good man first-hand — I dreaded the thought of how it would affect the jadokari, who already weren’t playing with a full deck.
“No,” I said softly, but it was enough for my boys to turn to me. “Max told me to protect it for a reason, not just give it up to the first assholes who want it. I have to believe it was for a reason, and until I hear otherwise from him directly, I’ll keep it safe.”
Kellum and Danic looked like they wanted to argue with me, but a sharp knock on the door ended what could have turned into an argument. I nearly jumped out of my skin, but a familiar female voice with a distinct European accent called out to us.
“It’s Tamar,” she said. “Are you ready to go?”
We all released the breaths we’d been holding. Danic threw open the door to reveal the tall and willowy female dragon with hair the color of chestnuts and eyes that reminded me of nutmeg. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, though as a dragon, I knew she had to be much older. Dressed in a sensible long-sleeved black shirt, well-worn jeans, and low-heeled boots, Tamar looked like she’d be just as comfortable sipping wine in a quaint Parisian sidewalk cafe or hiking up a rocky mountain with only a walking stick and a compass. I’d liked her immediately.
I jumped up from my seat and pulled a coat on over my heavy wool sweater. Spring in the mountains of Romania felt like the worst Oregon winter I’d ever experienced. I guess I’d grown too accustomed to L.A.’s perfect weather. I gave Tamar a wide smile that felt somehow dishonest, considering the somber mood she’d walked into.
“Ready.”
Chapter 2
Tamar’s big SUV rumbled down the cracked asphalt of the Romanian mountain highway, and for what felt like the hundredth time, I watched the greenery fly by on either side of me. Thanks to my American upbringing, I’d had this idea Romania was a rocky, barren wasteland, with medieval peasants farming desolate plots of land. Of course, nothing could have been further from the truth.
While the state of Cluj was home to the second busiest airport in Romania, it also happened to be one of the least populated states in the country. Tamar informed us that was due to the mountainous terrain, which didn’t lend itself to farming or tourism, two of the country’s leading forms of income.
Tamar had been driving us around like a tour guide for a week, trying new locations with the hope I could connect with Zoe. Though I had yet to succeed with that, each day offered
some new and surprising insight about her ancient homeland. She seemed to take a quiet pride in my surprise at how beautiful it was. Vegetation wasn’t just abundant here — it was rampant, taking over everything that wasn’t actively being used by humans and animals.
Most of our drives had been for the sole purpose of trying to find Zoe, to no avail. Tamar had been curious about my claim that I’d visited my best friend in captivity, which naturally led my boys to inform our guide that I had far more impressive talents. Talents she clearly didn’t believe I possessed, such as my strange ability to heal people — humans and dragons alike, it seemed. Of course, she was far too polite to outright question my newfound abilities, but I could sense her doubts. It didn’t help that I was unable to find Zoe, like I claimed I could.
Then one afternoon we’d stopped by her home in the village of Turdzi at the end of a long day of scouting. She lived in a cozy moss-covered cottage, straight out of a postcard. Tamar had wanted to check on her ten-year-old son, Soso, before driving us back to our remote hideaway.
Soso didn’t speak a lot of English, but he was endlessly curious about us. When he’d proudly stuck his hand out to shake mine, like the most adorable mini-man, I noticed a small cut on his forearm. Tamar had explained he’d suffered a fall on the playground. I could tell immediately the injury was already well on its way to being healed, but I’d felt a prideful need to prove myself to our guide.
After gesturing my intentions to Soso, he’d allowed me to inspect his wound. I’d held my hand over it for a long time, closing my eyes and muttering silently to add to the theatrics, then released it with a smile. By the time we were ready to leave, the cut had vanished entirely, much to Tamar’s shock. She’d never questioned my abilities again.
