Onyx Dragons- Amber

by Starla Night

  Nicole smacked her own forehead with her palm. "He's in the turret."

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Darcy rested his throbbing forehead against the wall and stared at the door to the second-floor hall.

  A few seconds ago, he swore he heard Nicole calling his name, but his throat had been too hoarse for her to hear his response. He passed the sparkling water because even though he blamed the spaghetti he didn't want to be wrong and dose himself a third time. Darcy thumped down the stairs on his butt and rested his forehead against the wall. If he heard her voice again, he'd try to hit the wall, but he didn't want to waste his energy or miss—

  "Darcy?" Amber's voice called his name. "Are you in here?"

  His chest pierced with relief. She hadn't left him forever. She'd come back. She was rescuing him. He needed a rescue.

  "I'm in here..." He coughed and gagged on the dust.

  "Did you hear anything?" Nicole's voice asked.

  "I'm not sure. I'll fly around the outside and look in the window."

  Then she'd miss him on the stairs!

  Darcy cracked his head against the door. It made a dull, hollow thump. He scuffed his feet on the floor and banged his shoulder. "Amber? Amber..."

  Metal shrieked and then the door fell away. Darcy collapsed at Amber's feet.

  Amber dropped the door over her shoulder, having ripped it right off the hinges, and knelt. "Darcy. You look terrible."

  He coughed on the dust. The light hurt his eyes and everything ached, but he couldn't stop the smile burning with gratitude. "I feel terrible."

  Nicole rushed away. "I'll get you some water!" She thudded down the stairs.

  His buddy, Pyro, cocked a grin at him. "You gave us a scare. Don't go locking yourself into attics, all right?"

  "You got it."

  Pyro, Mal, and another dragon he didn't know backed away and left them in the hall.

  Amber pushed aside the new padlock, which was now stretched and broken like a piece of carnival taffy, and cupped his cheek. "You canceled our wedding tomorrow but I still want to get married."

  He shook his head.

  Her face dropped in shock.

  "No, I canceled the ceremony." He coughed again and fought to sit up. She helped him. He took her hands between his. "I didn't want you and Mom fighting anymore. She'll never be happy. Amber, all I want is for you to be happy."

  Her shock cleared. "Marrying you will make me happy."

  His heart swelled. "Me too."

  She leaned forward to nuzzle him for a kiss.

  He stopped her. "I just ... Give me a minute so I'm sure I won't throw up."

  "Okay." She rested on her heels, waiting patiently, her fingers on her nice formal-skirt-clad knees.

  Tara stomped up the stairs with a furious Kris and a train of lovely, shocked bridesmaids. "Everything's ruined. Everything! The arch, the buffet, the festoons. And then my dress—" She halted and stared at Darcy. "Oh, so you're drunk too."

  His world was ending. "Mom's drunk? Again?!"

  "No, Dad. Shocker." Tara whirled. "Where's my wedding dress?"

  "I hung it in that room." Amber pointed to Jackie's closet.

  "Oh, Miss Fluffles is in there..." Jackie raced in, pulled the dress out of its bag, and brought it to Tara to inspect it.

  Tara waved her manicured fingertips. "A few cat hairs are better than a glass of red wine."

  "I'm not drunk." Darcy held out his arms to Amber. She helped him to rise. As soon as the world stopped moving, he explained. "Mom fed me something, and I couldn't move my legs."

  Jackie frowned as though he were being dramatic. "You think Mom drugged you?"

  He swallowed the discomfort of being disbelieved.

  "It was her muscle relaxants." At the top of the stairs, Nicole lofted the small orange bottle. "I found them next to the cutting board with what looks like the crushed remains of a pill."

  Jackie's mouth dropped open.

  The other bridesmaids gasped and murmured.

  Kris tutted.

  Tara closed her eyes and shook her head. "This is the end."

  Nicole handed Darcy the glass of water. "Here. This is clean, I promise."

  "Thanks." He swished his mouth and swallowed, already feeling better. He drained the glass.

  "Are you going to be okay, Darcy?" Amber asked.

  "I think so. It just needs to wear off." He squeezed her shoulders, wishing he could hold her properly, and also so grateful for her strength to hold him up when he needed it.

  "What do we do?" one bridesmaid asked.

  The bridal group murmured. Today was supposed to be a wedding. Nobody was prepared to accuse the mother of the bride of a crime.

  Darcy hugged Amber. "I know I'll never guard your body but I swear, Amber, I'll guard your heart. I turned away when you needed me, and I learned. You're the one I choose, now and forever."

  Amber's eyes filled with tears. She swallowed and smiled softly, glowing with matching love. "Okay."

  His own heart swelled to bursting. He turned, resting himself on his own two feet, and pulled her to him. Striving for a lighter tone, he cleared his throat. "I'm ready for that kiss now."

  Amber lifted on her tiptoes and—

  "Darcy!" His mom's voice cut through the crowd like a shot.

  His stomach dropped.

  Amber turned in his arms. She bristled, and a light shimmer of orange rustled across her skin as she placed herself in front of him protectively.

  Darcy rested his palms on Amber's slender but mighty shoulders. "Mom."

  "You're awake." Mom stood in the middle of the stairs. She focused on the gaping doorway to the turret and her gaze narrowed on Amber. "You've destroyed my house."

  "She had to." Jackie stepped forward. "You drugged Darcy and locked in the turret. He could have died."

  Rage flashed over Mom's face, chased by chagrin and then rebellion. Through a herculean effort, she composed her features. "We'll talk about this later."

  Everyone stared in silence. She'd been caught, she didn't deny her crime, and everybody knew.

  "I think Darcy wants you to talk about it now."

  "Darcy's fine with waiting until after Tara's wedding." Mom dismissed Jackie and focused on the bride, lifting the ball gown dress she'd been dragging. "Tara? Hurry and get dressed. The photographer's here."

  Another silence fell over the group. Nobody moved. But also, nobody knew what to do. No one had ever come face to face with a homicidal maniac. And she looked and sounded so normal.

  Tara finally snapped, arms crossed. "I'm not wearing that dress."

  "Don't be ridiculous. Now's not the time for a fight."

  "I'll get in my dress and be right down."

  "Tara..." Mom's voice lilted in a warning.

  Tara stared back.

  Mom softened into a watery apology. "Your father and I have sacrificed so much to raise you, send you to college where you met that Ed, and love you despite everything. It's your last few hours as my little girl. Just wear the ball gown and become the queen of my dreams."

  "Your dreams," Tara repeated, not budging. "Not mine."

  "Tara..."

  "No."

  "But it's non-refundable! And it's what you said you wanted."

  "Never."

  "Yes, when you were a child—"

  "No, Mom." Tara shook her head. "You wasted your money. I'm sorry. But not sorry enough to wear your dress."

  Mom stroked the fabric and beading. "It's a perfectly nice dress."

  "Then you wear it."

  She snorted. "Do I look like the kind of mother to wear a wedding dress to her daughter's wedding?"

  "No, you look like the kind of mother who breaks up your oldest daughter's marriage with lies, gaslights your youngest daughter into counseling, drugs and kidnaps your golden child for daring to defy you, and gets angry that you can't bulldoze me the way you have my entire life." Tara breathed hard like she'd run a race.

  Mom pinched her lips. "So. You're
all against me, then?"

  No one spoke.

  Another hit of rage crossed Mom's face. "I've been compromising with you on this wedding."

  Tara choked. "Since when?"

  "My entire life! Everything I did was for you, Tara. Now you'll find out what happens when you turn your mother away. You'll regret destroying your family. I'm done compromising!"

  She turned on her heel and descended the stairs, the ball gown dragging over every bump.

  Tara stormed into Jackie's room with the rest of the bridal party after her. Nicole remained in the hall with Darcy and Amber.

  Darcy's hands shook.

  "You hate fighting with your family," Amber murmured and kissed his fingers.

  "I do, but I also have to take a stand." He nuzzled her. "I learned that from you, too."

  "From me?"

  "If I want to be taken seriously, I have to be the kind of man who's taken seriously."

  She chuckled. "That's the same thing."

  "Mm, there are a few differences which I can't wait to show you on our wedding night..."

  Tara swanned out of Jackie's room in her flowing dress with her gaggle of bridesmaids and maid of honor. "Right, that's over. Darcy, get your tux on, and try to stand upright."

  Kris tapped the face of her phone. "The bridal march is in one hour, people!"

  Darcy turned for his bedroom and took a step without leaning on Amber. He wobbled.

  Nicole blocked the hall and lifted her hands. "So, this will probably sound weird, but Darcy was drugged and kidnapped, so one of us needs to call the police. Why are we still having a wedding?"

  "Because!" Tara's voice elevated to a shriek.

  "Deep breaths," Kris cautioned.

  "This dress is too tight for deep breaths!"

  "Shallow breaths, peace, Zen, honey. One hour."

  "Because," Tara repeated, glaring daggers at Nicole, "I am not letting Mom win. I am getting married in an hour. I am marrying my Ed, in my dress, in a messed up wedding that is only a tiny bit what I want, and I am not letting anyone stop me!"

  "Right, but, the police can escort her off the property before she does anything else that might endanger—"

  "Call the police! They can cuff her during my vows for all I care. I am Tara-zilla! Hear me roar." The bride trooped down the stairs, her entourage in tow. Jackie shrugged at Nicole and fell into line.

  Nicole shook her head. "I'm calling the police."

  "Thank you, Nicole," Darcy said.

  Nicole blinked. "You're not going to argue with me and say it's not necessary?"

  "No, it's necessary, and I'm not up to it, so thank you."

  "Well. Huh. You're welcome, Darcy." Nicole held the phone to her ear. "Hi, is this the non-emergency line? I want to report a crime. I don't think it's an emergency, but I could be wrong. It might be a crime-in-progress." She wandered into her bedroom and the door closed behind her.

  Darcy leaned on Amber. "Help me get ready."

  "For the wedding or the police?"

  "Both." He eased into his bedroom with her. "And check your magical closet for tuxes stitched with Kevlar. I think we'll need it."

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Darcy grew stronger as Amber helped him disrobe, towel off his sweat and primp, and then pull on a pressed suit with a gray-blue triangle that matched his eyes. No Kevlar, but she swore to protect him long before he subjected himself to that kind of danger, and her brothers would surely do the same.

  Her heart ached for him. Dark shadows still bruised the hollows of his face. But his gentle kindness and constant orientation to her shone with his love.

  She couldn't wait to take him back to her lair and treasure him with her body.

  As he fastened his cuff-links, he caught her sideways glance. His tired grin deepened, and he hooked her around the waist to walk confidently—but still carefully—downstairs to the main floor and out the kitchen. "I can read those thoughts."

  Her blood hummed with interest. "Can you?"

  "Mm." He nuzzled her loosely styled hair. "It's amazing considering what I must smell like."

  He smelled like musk and tangled sheets. "I want you all night and all day and all night."

  Darcy grinned. "Well, all right then. Tomorrow is Monday. I'll call in sick."

  Darcy's dad stopped him in the doorway to the backyard. He rested his hands on Darcy's shoulders. "Son, I sold the business."

  Darcy blinked. "Uh, I guess I won't call in sick."

  "I sold it to Rickers."

  "Oh, for his timeshare in Aruba?" Darcy tilted his head. He didn't seem upset. "Did you get him to throw in the yacht?"

  "Nah, he talked me out of picking up another money pit. It turns out people can volunteer as deckhands, teach yourself how to sail, and end up anywhere in the world. So that's my new plan."

  "Sure. Okay, well, congratulations."

  His dad smiled. In his suit and with his gray hair neatly combed, he looked a lot soberer than in the driveway. "Thanks. Let me get past you for a beer there."

  Maybe not.

  Darcy let him past, linked elbows with Amber, and strolled out onto the patio. "I hope it doesn't bother you to marry a man who's unemployed."

  "What will you do?" Amber asked.

  "Aside from lounging around your lair figuring out new ways to please and intoxicate you?" He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, gazing over the bright blue sky as though surveying new horizons. "I'll have to think about it."

  Mal strode through the buzzing crowd of guests until he reached them. "Darcy, you are full of strange yet useful ideas, just like Pyro when he was our Vice President. We need that void filled. Work at the Onyx Corporation."

  Darcy's brows rose. "I'm employed again."

  "You can say no," Amber said.

  "No, you can't. Here's a new phone." Mal pressed it into Darcy's lax hands. "We destroyed your old one remotely."

  "Uh, thanks." Darcy juggled the phone. "Ooh, shiny. Wait, is this a dragon cell phone?"

  "Of course it is. We provide only the highest technology for our new employees."

  "Neat."

  "You really can say no," Amber said again.

  "Amber," Mal growled.

  "Cheryl did."

  Mal subsided. His wife was standing in shadow by the welcome sign listening to the comments of the arriving guests, a small, proud smile on her shy face.

  "I'd love to see you at work." Darcy held out his hand to shake Mal's. "I need Monday off on account of getting married."

  "Just this once, vacation is approved."

  Amber ruffled. "Just this once?"

  "Don't push your luck!"

  Out of the corner of Amber's eye, she noted Darcy's mom in a big dress descending on Cheryl. She carried a bucket and a cleaning cloth.

  Cheryl gulped and stood in front of the chalkboard, frightened.

  Amber jerked her head. "Mal..."

  He flew to Cheryl's side in an instant.

  Darcy's mom raised the wet cloth to erase the board.

  Mal snapped his teeth.

  Darcy's mom jumped back. She sniffed at them and whirled away in a huff.

  Cheryl leaned into Mal and soothed him with a calming hand on his broad shoulder. He fitted her to his side.

  How funny that these humans let Gayle roam until their police security officers arrived. If the dragons were in charge of security, she'd be confined.

  Darcy studied the new phone. "It's solid but not heavy, and well-constructed, like a gemstone."

  "You know you can refuse Mal," Amber insisted, focusing on the present. "You've worked for family your entire life. You might want to do something different."

  "When I think of something different, we'll discuss." He rested his arm around her waist and drew her close. "It is funny. I figured if the business ever folded, I'd spend longer searching for a job than a few strides across my parents' back patio."

  They admired Cheryl's cheery welcome chalkboard complete with a playable board game
that led to the winning square in the center: Ed and Tara's names and dates. Then, they signed the guest book, snapped a Polaroid, and wrote best wishes using feather quill pens and dropped them into a time capsule trunk.

  At the back of the lines of chairs, the alterations that had caused Tara to shriek on arrival became clearer.

  The honeysuckle Amber had transplanted to entangle the arch was gone. Hacked apart so little pieces still clung to the arch and dirt trailed around the aisle like the clues from a crime scene. Cheap white party streamers had been thrown over the arch instead, and the morning dew had stretched them out before they had re-dried in the sun, so loose, faded, stained streamers looked like the aftermath of a child's birthday party. The same drooped from the chairs. Fern leaves and baby's breath chaff blew across the lawn.

  Without the masking honeysuckle, the arch's peeling, weather-soaked paint, and the turret's splintering shabbiness stood out. Not an original part of the house, the turret was a shed that had been built up for several floors, neglected to paint, and — from the way it leaned away from the house — also neglected to shore up to code. When it wasn't the focal point, or when it was masked by the riotous, sweet-smelling honeysuckle, it had looked like a quaint part of the landscape. Now, it looked like Tara and Ed were marrying in front of a sad, well-used garden trellis resting against an even sadder, less-loved shed.

  Tara was trying to smile for the photographer in the lower part of the garden, her long gown blending into the ancient cedar and mystical azaleas. But her gaze kept sliding to the altar area with a worried frown.

  Kris came and spoke to her, then they disappeared. A few minutes later, the music recording changed to swelling violins and tinkling harps. Ushers seated guests.

  Amber's relatives got stuck on the groom's side in the far back. "Because we have fewer guests from Russia," Ed's young cousin said, although Amber thought it was even.

  She and Darcy sat in the front row on the bride's side, as far from her brothers as she could be. She was even seated in front of Darcy's other close relatives like Nicole.

  Nicole trained her cell phone camera on them. "And here's my brother with Amber, the 'dragon-fairy godmother' of my sister, Tara."