by JD Monroe
She nodded back. “Would you mind if I…” She gestured to Ashariah and held up a fuzzy orange robe. “I thought it would be nice for her to have something other than that ugly hospital gown.”
And yet again, she surprised him.
“Help me,” she ordered. She gently lifted each of Ashariah’s arms, peeling away the flimsy hospital garment. Tarek averted his eyes from the princess’s naked body. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
“I cannot,” he said.
She sighed. “Dios mio,” she muttered. “You’re not a perv, or something.”
“Of course not,” he protested. “But she is the princess. And I certainly should not see her in this state.”
“You were just walking around naked twenty minutes ago.”
“Yes, and that was my choice. I cannot see her this way without her permission.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “I have to give you credit for sticking to your principles. Close your eyes, then.”
He complied, instead listening to the quiet rustle of fabric against skin. A few minutes later, Gabrielle tapped him on the shoulder. He peeked to see her standing over him with her arms folded. He craned his neck to see Ashariah wearing the softer robe, belted with a neat bow around her waist, with a pillow propped under her head and one under each arm.
“Is she all right?”
“That’s relative,” Gabrielle said. “She’s stable, so there’s that.” She looked around, then headed for the stiff chair near the door. As she started to sit back in it, Tarek shook his head.
“You should lie down here,” he said, gesturing to the bed. “I’ll take the chair.”
She shook her head. “You got shot. You should sleep in the bed.”
“You could lie with me.”
Her eyes widened. “I, uh…um…”
Her cheeks flushed high, with bright spots of red on her full cheeks. “Not like that,” he said. “I would not touch you.” She flinched. Vazredakh, fool of a dragon. He might as well insult her outright. “I only mean to say that you would be safe.”
She looked longingly at the bed, then down at the chair. After a long hesitation, she nodded and crossed the room. “This is crazy,” she said to herself more than to him. She sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, her weight shifting slightly and bringing his legs to rest against hers.
“You asked me questions, now may I ask you a question?” Tarek asked. It had to be the chaos of the day taking its toll on him; as her body touched his, a pleasant warmth washed over him like sun breaking through the clouds.
“Sure,” she said. She reached for one of the pillows and wrapped it close to her chest.
For a moment, he had the insane, utterly irrational wish to be that damned, scratchy hotel pillow that smelled like bleach and residual sweat, if it meant he would be pressed tight to her body. He shook himself. He had to focus. It had to be the blood loss that had him so out of sorts. And the irresistible smell of her.
“You said in the hospital that Ashariah showed you something. What did you mean?”
She nodded and frowned. “Before you arrived at the hospital, I checked her responses to determine what her level of brain activity might be. We test reflexes, pain response, and eye tracking. When I shined the light in her eye, I swear she looked right at me, and I saw something.”
“What did you see?”
She paused, her teeth grazing her lower lip. Her brow creased as she pondered. Her eyes searched him, like she was afraid of embarrassing herself. “It’s crazy.”
“Crazier than anything else?”
“No,” she said. She smiled reluctantly, exposing a sliver of white teeth as her lips curled up. “If she’s like you…a…”
“Kadirai.”
“That,” Gabrielle said. “Then it makes more sense. Something was chasing her and hurt her. It knocked her out of the sky and onto the road.”
Tarek sat upright, regarding her sternly. “Who was it? Did you see?”
She shook her head. “The sun was in her eyes. Everything was in silhouette.”
“Vazredakh,” he cursed. But he knew, didn’t he? The blade buried in Surik’s chest had been engraved with the markings of the Ironflight. The dragons of Stone and Iron had warred for many years, and had only set their differences aside in the Great War over a century earlier. The peace could not hold forever, not with two headstrong queens who would never yield to one another for the high seat of Empress. Attacking Ashariah was surely the first salvo in a full-out war on the Stoneflight.
“So what’s next?” Gabrielle asked, jarring him from his thoughts of war.
“I will take her home,” he said.
“Do you have doctors there?”
“Healers,” he said. “And we have the Avekh dar Isina.”
“Huh?”
He chuckled. “A very beautiful garden at the center of our home. The al-hatari is very powerful there.”
“The huh?”
“Al-hatari. It’s…energy. Life. It nourishes all living things.”
“You said a garden,” Gabrielle murmured, her voice dreamy. “Did you play with Ashariah there?”
He tilted his head. “You saw?”
“You were playing hide and seek there. I think she wanted me to know I could trust you.”
“And do you?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m still not sure. Sorry.”
He shook his head. “A warrior is always cautious. To answer your question, I will return her there as soon as sunrise comes. I should regain some of my strength by then, at least enough to take her home.”
“And…you’ll stay there?”
Was that a note of hope hiding in her question? And was that a note of hope hiding in his gut that she might ask? Fool of a dragon.
“I’m not sure,” he said.
She flinched, then regained her mask of neutral curiosity. “I understand.” She released the pillow and got up to check on Ashariah again. She repeated the examination she’d done earlier, and when she seemed satisfied, returned to the end of the bed. “I could probably use a few hours of sleep.”
His breath caught in his chest as she climbed into the bed and snuggled herself down under the dingy comforter. Still damp and fragrant from her shower, her dark hair spilled in waves across the white pillowcase. She lay on her side, facing the wall so that her back was to him. He was struck suddenly with the urge to lie next to her, body pressed tight to hers so that he could feel each curve and edge of her form, the warmth of her skin pressed to his, and inhale her scent.
And as he watched her get comfortable, one arm splayed under her head while the other rested on the swell of her hip, he contemplated what it might be like to peel off her clothes, running his hands over the smooth, warm skin, and feeling the heat of her all around him. His blood surged, and he clamped down on his errant thoughts. He had been too long in the human world, stuck guarding the Gate with nothing but brash young men for entertainment. Some of them, like Shazakh, took regular trips into the city to entertain themselves with eager young women and men who were easily impressed by the big physique and uncanny eyes. That had never been Tarek’s way. But he had never met someone like Gabrielle, and his resolve was put to the test as he listened to her breathing slow into the gentle rhythm of sleep.
But he had sworn that she would be safe, and he would honor his promise and her dignity. Even if she did smell divine and look like a dream come true.
As the night crept on, he periodically got out of bed quietly to check on Ashariah. He was no doctor, but he sensed no distress. Once, he sat on the edge of her bed and watched her sleeping. It was unusual for a dragon to sustain such severe injuries, and rarer still for it to take so long to recover. Surely, she’d improve immediately upon returning home. This world was not meant for their kind.
It was part of the reason he himself had been so slow to heal. The old scars on his back were the ones he’d sustained in the ambush that left Ashariah’s sister Ivralah dead, and him
barely clinging to life. He’d awoken in the healing gardens of Adamantine Rise weeks later, his al-hatari virtually obliterated. It had taken months for the wounds to close enough that they didn’t constantly bleed, and only recently had they closed to puckered pink scars, barely healed over.
His eyes had barely closed when he heard the sound. It was only a gentle tap on the door, but it sent a hot rush of adrenaline rushing through him. He sat upright. Even in human form, he could smell the gathering magic in the air, that same odd smell he had caught before in the hospital.
Was he panicking and imagining it all?
He took a deep breath and listened for it again. There were footsteps outside the door, and the scent of magic was still there, not just in his imagination.
He reached over and shook Gabrielle’s shoulder. She stirred, her eyes languid as she looked up at him. “She all right?” she slurred.
“She’s fine. Someone’s here,” he said quietly.
Gabrielle sat bolt upright, rubbing at her eyes. “I’ll go check,” she said quietly. She started to scoot off the bed, but he grabbed her arm lightly. Her eyes were wide and confused as she looked back at him. “What?”
“Stay here,” he said. A wave of dizziness washed over him as he stood up, tiptoeing silently across the room.
His heart pounded as he listened for footsteps. Silence hung thick and heavy around him. Maybe it was nothing. He crept closer to the door, curling his bare toes into the flat, scratchy carpet to ground himself. Something scraped along asphalt, sending a chill down his spine. Then it was quiet again, but the electric smell of magic thickened, as if something had burst open outside his door.
Or a Kadirai had just made the transformation into dragon form.
Adrenaline dumped into his system. He looked back at Gabrielle and said quietly, “Get your things. We have to move. Quick.”
Eyes still wide, she nodded rapidly and sprang into action, stuffing the first aid supplies she’d brought into her pink bag.
How had they followed him? His affinity for the wind granted him the ability to conceal himself, and they should have never been able to follow him. The trail of magic was even dampened, at least enough that only the sharpest trackers could see it. Had they waited to follow Gabrielle?
He took a deep breath, assessing his own strength. He hadn’t recovered enough for a lengthy battle. Another transformation so soon would drain him, and it wouldn’t take much to drop him from the sky. But he had to do what was necessary.
“Okay,” Gabrielle said. She was wiggling her feet into her sneakers and adjusting the pink bag on her shoulder. She continued to surprise him with her readiness to act. As he’d said to her earlier, she had a warrior’s heart. “What do we do?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I don’t want to involve you any further,” Tarek said, looking down at her.
Gabby threw her hands up in frustration. “I’m involved already, get the hell over it. What do we do?”
The walls shook. They both froze, eyes wide as they stared at the ceiling. Something heavy thumped rhythmically across the ceiling. Her imagination ran wild, picturing a fire-spewing dragon crouched atop the motel waiting to devour her whole. A car alarm shrieked outside, then a second wailed in response. Glass shattered, setting off another chorus of alarms.
Tarek searched the bedside table, found a pen, and grabbed her hand. She’d always been complimented on her hands – large but graceful, the hands of a piano player or a surgeon – but they were dwarfed in his. Holding her wrist firmly with one hand, he scrawled on her palm.
Drakemont Inn
1382 Stonecrest Road
Boulder City, Nevada
“Seriously? That’s almost to Vegas!”
Tarek shook his head and dropped her hand. “They’re following us somehow. They either followed you here, or they followed my trail.”
“So your response is to send your princess off with me?” This was a bad plan, a very bad plan. He was ignoring her, rooting through a leather satchel on the floor. He withdrew a wickedly sharp knife and held it out. “What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Hopefully nothing,” he said. “Take it.”
She stared down at the knife. Unfamiliar symbols were carved along the blade, which had a barbed edge. Glittering red stones decorated the handle. He made a gruff sound of irritation, grabbed her wrist, and pressed it into her hand. What looked like a hunting knife in his hand felt like a sword in hers. She reluctantly took it and looked up at him. With the weight of the knife in her palm, the surreal situation had suddenly become intensely real.
“I’m going to distract them,” he said. “Possibly worse.” His nostrils flared, and his strong hands clenched into fists. “I’ll change, and I’ll get you both to your car. Drive as fast as you can and don’t look back.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’ll catch up to you when I finish them off. I can smell you.”
“Tarek, I just don’t think…wait, you can smell me? Dude, seriously, that’s just—”
“Gabrielle, this is not up for debate!” he shouted. “Take her. Ask to speak to Shazakh. Tell them Tarek efan Izera sent you.”
“I—what?”
He gripped her shoulders, lowering himself to her eye level. Creased with concern, his eyes bored into her as he repeated his instructions slowly. “They may be suspicious, but that should be enough to get you to safety.” She took a breath, but he cut her off. “Please, just listen. I need you to do this for me.”
“Fine,” she retorted. She stowed the knife in her bag and secured the strap over her shoulder, leaning a little to compensate for the extra weight of the first aid supplies. Maybe she should have listened to Logical Gabby last night and headed home to the safety of her four walls instead of staying here with Tarek.
Tarek sucked in a sharp breath, his hands out and already in a clawed position at his sides. He yanked the door open and rushed through. As soon as he stepped clear of the door frame, he let out a ferocious roar that could never have come from a human throat.
Gabby rushed to the doorway to see what happened. He was mid-transformation already, lighting the darkened parking lot with a display of shifting blue light. He was still between shapes when a streak of silver cut through the sky like lightning. “Tarek! Above you!”
His blue wings unfurled as he looked up. He snapped his head around like a whip. There was no light, but the air seemed to change around him, shimmering like a mirage. The shimmer coalesced in a crescent, hurtling toward the silvery white dragon. The white dragon banked sharply, but whatever he’d done still hit it. It flew backward, its body twisting awkwardly to protect its belly. Tarek finished transforming, his dark blue scales reflecting silver in the moonlight. Then his massive wings spread, lifting him high into the sky. Animal roars and screeches rose above the wailing car alarms.
Gabby peeked out, watching the frenetic activity in the skies above. Tarek flew after the white dragon, attacking with those same shimmering crescents. The other dragon dodged them, folding her wings tight and flying like a spear to dodge them.
She was so enrapt with the battle unfolding above that she never saw the second dragon land. Thunder cracked, seemingly right outside, followed by a flash of blinding white light. The side wall of the motel room imploded, and white-hot flames burst through the shattered remains.
She screamed involuntarily, moving to block Ashariah. A scaly golden head poked through the open doorway and roared. The sound scraped at her eardrums and left her ears ringing. She screamed back and waved it off like it was a pesky stray dog. Suddenly the spiked head jerked and pulled back. Gleaming white teeth were buried in its throat, jerking it away. It was Tarek.
“Come out!” he roared. The sound made her blood run cold, a shiver running down her spine. She ran to Ashariah and wrapped her arms around the princess, then lifted with her legs. She’d helped her mother move Anna many times, although the princess was considerably ta
ller and heavier than her frail younger sister. The adrenaline certainly helped.
Gabrielle shuffled awkwardly to the doorway, where Tarek waited. As soon as she stepped clear of the door, he roared again, flinging another crescent of shimmering air over his shoulder. There was a lower roar in response. With one huge arm, Tarek wrapped her and Ashariah in a tight bundle. Gabby winced at the crushing grip. His scaly hide was rough against her bare skin, like gravel embedded in sandpaper. His chest rumbled, like a massive cat purring.
He leaped into the air, but he was jumping more than flying. Still, as they soared in an arc across the parking lot, her stomach did a sickening lurch, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut. With a crunch of metal under his clawed feet, he landed atop a red pickup truck next to her car. He lumbered down the front of the truck and landed in the grass behind the cars.
“Go!” he ordered.
“But …”
“Go!” He suddenly sprang into the air again, the gold dragon in hot pursuit.
Gabby shook herself. Assess, decide, execute. Flames spread along the bottom floor of the motel, bursting out through windows. People scurried out of the rooms like ants from a kicked anthill. Judging by their open-mouthed stares overhead, some of them had noticed that something was going on above them. Sirens rose in the distance. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that she needed to haul ass.
With a full tank of gas, a change of underwear, and a lost dragon princess in her custody, she was ready to roll. After maneuvering Ashariah into the back seat, Gabby jumped into the front seat, and backed out of the lot. As she peeled away, one of the dragons roared into the night, drowning out the shrill car alarms and distant sirens.
Something in her said don’t look, like Lot’s wife fleeing Sodom and Gomorrah, but how exactly was she not supposed to look at the epic dragon battle behind her? It would have taken a will of pure steel, and stubborn as she was, she didn’t have it in her.
She looked over her shoulder and froze, her foot slamming on the brakes instinctively. The gold dragon was right behind her. His horned head completely filled the back window. Glass blew out of the windshield, and she heard the screeching of metal as his claws raked over the roof and dug in. Hot air blew through the car, searing her skin like she’d leaned into an open oven.
