by Love, Dianna
Brynhild held her arms out wide, staring at the surging sea rocked by the storm. She laughed loud and wildly. “I am back!”
While she ignored him, clearly thinking she had him under control, Tristan called up energy into his not-as-injured left arm.
Power rushed through the same arm and flooded his hand.
Claws broke out of his fingertips.
Hope pounded his skull.
He glanced at Brynhild. Still lost in her moment of freedom, holding her face up to the torrent coming down. Her blond braids slapped her body when the wind whipped her hair around.
It was now or never.
His damaged right arm would be useless until it healed. He couldn’t teleport unless he freed that arm.
Screw it. He called up his gryphon as fast as he could and sucked up his backbone. The minute his jaws were wide enough to bite off his right hand, he’d free himself and teleport away.
He’d never tried to teleport in gryphon form, but today was as good a day as any to find out if it would work.
His body began shifting.
Excitement rushed through him. His chest expanded. His head reshaped, but not very fast. He needed jaws powerful enough to snap bone and cut through his wrist the first time. He didn’t think he could make a second bite.
His wings began to form.
Brynhild turned around and screeched, “Stop!”
She stomped her way toward him with hands fisted and face warped in a fit of rage. “No shifting or you die!”
Fuck that. He kept begging his gryphon to break free.
Brynhild slammed to a stop. She started peeling off armor and shifting as she did.
Tristan clenched his fists and called hard on his power, but his shift would not happen in time.
Even if it did, his gryphon couldn’t rip off his hand before the dragon chomped off his beast’s head.
Chapter 4
Questions hanging at the edge of Casidhe’s tongue would have to wait. She couldn’t very well ask Daegan anything about Skarde right now.
She had to take her time and get to know him well enough to talk about his family’s history.
One misstep and she’d expose her connection to Herrick.
Wouldn’t the red dragon love that?
What if she failed to get information on Skarde after being this close to Daegan? Herrick would be furious. Worse, he’d be disappointed. She took a couple breaths, trying to keep her heartbeat under control.
“What has your heart racin’, Luigsech?” Daegan asked, his eyes taking in her every movement. Legs stretched out in front of him, Daegan had the casual pose of someone relaxed. But one look in his dark silver gaze smashed that image. Fully alert, Daegan dangled on the edge of action.
Damn his dragon shifter abilities for sensing so much.
He was back to calling her by her last name, too. They had been on better footing when he’d called her lass.
Before he noticed anything else, she shrugged and twisted her office chair back toward the desk. “What you claim about the Luigsech family bein’ concerned only with Treoir history may have been true two thousand years ago, but—”
“’Twas true,” he affirmed.
“Okay, fine.” She shifted around to face him again. “I did not live then, but I can tell you that today’s Luigsech descendant who becomes an ancestral archivist is expected to keep the general history of many things from all time periods.” Having sidestepped that topic as best she could, she hurried on. “As for why I was chosen, I studied at the feet of a very old Luigsech aunt alongside the family’s oldest blood-daughter named Gale. She had a photographic memory. She was expected to be the next family historian. I was to have been her assistant.”
“What do ya mean by photographic memory?” Daegan leaned back and crossed his ankles.
“It means that Gale could recall anythin’ she ever heard or saw after just one time. She needed no promptin’.”
“With such a gift, why would she need your help?”
He hadn’t asked that in an insulting way, but the question still stung. “If you consider the information accumulated over more than two thousand years, you would realize that no one can pass along every tiny bit of information. She had a natural gift for memory and I have a natural gift for research. We would have made a great team.”
The kind of memory Gale had would have been a nice gift, too, but Casidhe would not trade her power of translating any text.
Still, she’d worked her butt off to keep up with so much information over the years.
“Why is Gale not here now?” Daegan asked.
Casidhe hadn’t talked about this in years and wouldn’t now if she had another choice. Pushing past the lump in her throat, she explained, “Gale had an insatiable curiosity about everythin’. While huntin’ a plant in the mountains, a deadly viper bit her. She panicked and ran. By the time her family found her, she was very sick and died a day later.”
“’Tis terrible to lose a child.”
She paused, surprised by the honesty in his voice.
He asked, “What about the other daughters?”
“The next one in line was too young to be expected to just step into Gale’s shoes, plus she became withdrawn when her sister died. The whole family had a tough time. I was thirteen and Gale was my best friend as much as a foster sister.” Casidhe’s voice trailed off. She cleared her throat, determined to get this all out. “Their elderly aunt passed away in her sleep six months later. I think her heart never recovered from losin’ the niece she’d spent most of her last ten years tutorin’. It was all heartbreakin’.”
Emotion flooded her at recalling that horrible time.
Gale had been her lifeline, Casidhe’s only shield against the deep loneliness of being an outsider.
She and the Luigsechs had been living in Herrick’s castle back then. He’d told Casidhe to continue the Luigsech legacy of being a historian of the dragon history from there on. Fenella’s Connell squire family filled in spots of history where Casidhe had not received all the details from the Luigsech aunt.
When Daegan didn’t badger her for more, she opened her eyes and lifted her head with pride for the position she’d been given. “Everyone agreed I would become the new family historian. I was honored to be handed the duty.”
“What do ya know of the Treoirs?”
Shaking off her melancholy, she went back on alert. “Why? Don’t you know your own history?”
He leveled her with a look that warned she tipped his patience in the wrong direction. Large fingers on one hand tapped slowly on the chair arm. “To be honest, no. I was captured before my da died and his castle fell in the Dragani War. He and I were doin’ all we could to discover who was pittin’ dragon houses against one another.”
Slicing a narrowed look at him, she said, “So your red dragon had nothin’ to do with startin’ the Dragani War?”
Fury darkened his gaze and made her want to squirm.
“No. Is that what ya were told, Luigsech?” Suspicion in his voice warned she was back on bad footing again.
Just great. Now he was going to push her even more on the Treoirs.
But he didn’t. Daegan stood quickly and changed the subject. “We waste time. Ya should be huntin’ the grimoire.”
“Wait a minute, buster. I answered your questions.” She made no move to stand and start researching. “That should be enough for you to stop accusin’ me of bein’ a poser. If you know so much, why don’t you know where to hunt for the grimoire volumes?”
He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, which did nothing to lessen the tension in the air. “The grimoire was created, discovered, broken into three volumes, and hidden many years before my birth. I had never heard of its existence until recently. If I had all that information, I would not be here.”
She frowned, surprised the grimoire origins went back that far.
“Ya waste time,” Daegan groused again.
“So do you,” she tossed back at h
im. “Now it’s your turn to produce information on Fenella. That was the deal. At the moment, you don’t seem to be holdin’ up your end. Where is Quinn and why hasn’t he gotten back to you by now?”
“Quinn had to travel to Atlanta to speak with our people.”
Her lips parted. “Atlanta? As in the United States?”
Daegan nodded.
She fought off an attack of longing. Quinn hadn’t been gone long enough to fly back. He either teleported or someone else teleported him. She’d love to have that ability and visit other places, the US, maybe even a South Pacific island.
He said, “Ya must allow Quinn a bit of time to gain answers.”
She knew a delay tactic when she heard one. “Why should I believe anythin’ you say?”
Chapter 5
Daegan forced himself to not snap at Luigsech. Why should she believe him? Because he’d told her his true identity.
Sharing that had been no small thing.
She lifted that pert chin with her stubborn look, the challenging one he saw more often than not.
Still he had a difficult time holding on to his anger while the lass had shared how she’d ended up taking over as the new squire for the Treoir history. He was not Storm, a living lie detector, but he’d heard truth in her words.
If only a niggling feeling that she hid something important did not continue to peck at him.
When she leaned her elbow on her desk to prop her head, golden-red hair picked up small fragments of light from the late day dancing through the village outside the centre.
She had a young and innocent look about her, but he would not confuse that with being naïve.
More reason to not trust a word out of her mouth he could not verify. Now that she realized Quinn might be a while responding, he had to push her back to the task at hand.
Instead of replying to why she should trust him, he asked, “How do ya plan to find the grimoire?”
Her gaze moved away from him.
Had that been to delay hunting the book or to sift through her thoughts for an explanation?
While he waited, he sent another message out to his second-in-command. Tristan, if ya hear me call back. Just speak to me.
Nothing again.
She grudgingly began explaining, “I may have to dig through a lot of books to find a startin’ point. Sometimes I may find nothin’ more than a tiny speck of information linked to a time period, historical event, or geographical area where the grimoire was believed lost. From there, I keep diggin’.”
“Grimoire was not lost.”
Eyeing him with a chilly glance, she stood and stretched her back. “Ah, that’s right, the book was broken into three parts and each one hidden. But as no one knows where any of those volumes are today, that makes them lost in my way of thinkin’.”
He knew the whereabouts of one volume locked away in the VIPER vault, but he wanted information on all of the volumes. “What is next?”
“I have no idea.” She gave him a bite of her own impatience with that answer. “One snippet of information might lead me to a major detail or it may only put my foot on the first step of a path that could be a short trip or a long journey.”
He would not allow her to run him in circles. “Ya have a week to find the grimoire. ’Tis the length of your journey.”
She shoved the desk chair back into place under the desk and turned to him. “Do you think givin’ me some arbitrary deadline will be makin’ this search happen faster?”
His dragon growled in reaction to Daegan’s irritation.
Luigsech’s eyes rounded and she took a step back.
That infuriated him even more. “I smell your fear. I have not threatened ya. I merely tell ya time shall mean the difference between life and death for others.”
Then he lifted his hand in a silent order to say nothing as Quinn’s voice came into Daegan’s head. I have information on Fenella.
What is it?
We retrieved Fenella’s mobile phone number from Casidhe Luigsech’s phone. I’ll spare you how our technical people can track those phones, but Fenella’s phone is moving through Ireland. She may or may not be in possession of the device, so it doesn’t mean her body is traveling with her phone through Ireland. But it’s a good sign that Cathbad might not have her.
’Tis good to know, Quinn. How are things in Atlanta?
A lot going on, but nothing I can’t handle.
Daegan felt pulled in every direction. He wanted to protect his people back home and support his Beladors. He had to find Tristan, but he also needed any part of the grimoire he could get his hands on to save Devon, Renata, and the others.
To save their world from Imortiks.
Daegan ended the conversation with Quinn and lowered his hand to address Luigsech. “Quinn has located information on Fenella.”
Relief burst into Luigsech’s face. “Where is she?”
“He has no specifics yet, only that our people have located your friend’s mobile phone and are on her trail. They believe she is likely not with Cathbad ... yet.”
Casidhe reached for her backpack. “Good enough. Tell me what you have and I can probably find her right away on my own.”
“No.”
“No? You can’t hold back information on Fenella. I’ve been worried sick over her. I can find her.” She shoved the pack back on the floor with a heavy thud.
“Quinn shall continue to send me information as our people discover more. I shall tell ya what we have after ya locate one of the grimoire volumes.”
“No!” She slapped her hand on her desk. “Do ya think I’m just goin’ to go off lookin’ for this damned grimoire with Fenella in danger? I have no idea how long it may take to find that stupid book, or volumes, whatever. I need to know about Fenella now. She could be in trouble and your people might not even realize it.”
Venom still pulsed in Daegan’s body and concerns about his ability to tap power when he needed it had him on edge. His snarl came out inhumanly deep. “Tristan is in trouble. I want to find him immediately. My people are in trouble. Now we both have a strong desire to find the grimoire sooner rather than later. I suggest ya get busy huntin’ it.”
“I will not! I have no reason to trust you.”
He took a step and leaned toward her, staring hard into her hostile eyes. “I do not trust ya either, but I need ya.” He let that sink in first then added, “Ya need me too. It does not help Fenella if ya go runnin’ into one of Cathbad’s traps. My man caught by Cathbad could teleport and he has as yet been unable to escape. Ya have few choices. Help me, and I shall help ya. Trust me ... and I shall trust ya.”
He got her mulish look in reply.
Daegan leaned until their noses almost touched. “’Tis simple. Work with me ya hardhead if ya want Fenella back.”
Luigsech pressed her lips tight and her eyes shined with unshed tears.
Before he had a chance to calm her down, she scowled at him. “I’ll look for your damn book, but if anythin’ happens to Fenella, you will wish you had never met me.”
He would not undermine her show of a strong backbone by soothing her now. Instead, he said, “I shall take that as an agreement. What would help ya find this book?”
Breathing hard through her nose, she stared him down for a minute then shook her head at some thought she would not share. After a stretch of seconds, she became all business. “You said the grimoire was broken into three volumes. It would help to know who the last people were to possess the volumes. That would narrow the hunt down from a bazillion possible hidin’ places to maybe only a million,” she replied sarcastically.
“Ya have a twisted sense of humor,” he pointed out, glad to have her snapping at him and not hurt.
“I have lost all ability to find any of this humorous. Considerin’ my life since meetin’ ya, that should not be surprisin’.” She walked around him and through the opening into the rear area of the centre with books piled on every shelf.
He held back a ret
ort. His anger grew from many seeds before he met her. He had no desire to wound the lass, who had gone through so much in her life, but he mentally warred between pushing her to act faster and taking a lighter approach to let her work at her own pace.
The lighter approach won out.
He sighed, now feeling guilty over not demanding more, and attributed his desire to not push her harder as nothing more than a natural desire to protect a female.
Ruadh’s voice ghosted through Daegan’s mind. You have never lied to yourself before.
What was his dragon talking about? Daegan replied silently, but with a sharp edge to his tone, I tell no lie now. Luigsech is annoying, but still a woman to be shielded from harm.
I see. You would protect Queen Medb?
Daegan had walked into Ruadh’s trap, something that had not happened in a very long time. Ya know very well that queen does not fall under my protection.
Ruadh quieted, leaving Daegan to stew with those thoughts. He stalked into the book area in the back.
Darkness swallowed Luigsech, her movements that of a shadow. She tossed an order at him. “I’ll be needin’ some light unless you want me to turn all of them on back here.”
He lifted a hand where he called up a flame to sit upon his palm. With the sun not setting until much later this evening and the cloaking he’d created across the window facing the street, he doubted anyone could see a light in here. Still, the flame in his palm would not expose their presence.
“Are you nuts?” she screeched. “Put out that flame.” She looked at his hand in horror as if he held the head of a bloody kitten.
“Why?”
“This library is filled with rare books, one of a kind literature, not to mention all the research material I’ve accrued over ten years.” She sounded close to doing what Tristan called hyperventilating.
“Ya need to calm down and breathe, lass,” Daegan instructed her. “I have the flame under control.”
Her eyes glowed supernaturally blue and she twisted her hands in front her. She whispered in a tiny voice, “Please. I’m beggin’ ya. No fire.”
