Book 1: Treoir Dragon Chronicles of the Belador World, Book 1

by Dianna Love

  Reaching over to grab a soft cloth, she wiped her hands clean of any oil or dirt and tossed the cloth.

  Then she extended her index and middle finger together, curling her other fingers out of the way. She moved the tips of those two fingers across the text, barely touching the surface.

  Words rose off the page in glowing gold shapes, which would have been difficult for anyone unfamiliar with the odd script to translate.

  Not for her eyes and brain.

  She started reading quickly. The symbols rose up and fell away with each swipe, returning the page to its natural state as her fingers passed by. She’d been correct about the time period after determining at least some of it had been penned in BCE.

  She’d read three pages when she snatched her fingers back.

  The last words had been a warning to the person reading to never cross any of the dark druids, especially not the Seanóir. The Elder

  Elder was such a simple word for the deadliest of dark druids.

  She’d gleaned snippets of information about this order of druids over years of reading ancient text. There were no more than seven in existence at any time, and one ruled over all the dark druids. The Elder.

  The seven names were not spoken or written, which had protected them through centuries.

  Many, many centuries ago, and definitely before Herrick’s time.

  Just who was Cavan?

  Herrick wanted all her attention on finding anything she could about the red dragon, but it wasn’t as if that information would be easily located. She’d have to find threads that would lead to that dragon shifter, starting with the Beladors.

  Humans didn’t know they existed.

  Correction. They hadn’t known.

  She’d seen the word Belador typed on screen and how reporters frantically tried to find information to determine if they had been invaded by nonhumans.

  Scanning on her mobile phone, she’d seen the term misspelled as Beladore or Beladora.

  Humans were freaking out in the city of Atlanta and surrounding areas. Fear would spread from there.

  Who wouldn’t be afraid after that arrogant red dragon had torched forests in two countries? Had that been a clear warning?

  If so, who had the red dragon been warning?

  She put Cavan’s book aside to think on before she read deeper and opened a door she shouldn’t. She’d like to ask Cavan who he was and maybe even what he might know of the red dragon. Would she surprise him with those questions?

  It shouldn’t for someone who came here inquiring about the Treoirs. She’d watch his reaction when she asked him about the dragon the next time he returned to discuss his book.

  By the time she’d caught up all the correspondence that had piled on her desk while she’d been gone, she looked around to find the sun had almost dropped from sight.

  Fenella would have her head for not setting a clock.

  Casidhe packed up fast. She had to grab groceries on the way home and needed to get pedaling.

  She locked the door and, for the third time, she could not shake the feeling of being watched.

  Either that or the trip to visit Herrick had made her jumpy and suspicious of everything that moved. Probably the latter. She needed to get outside and train to clear her mind. She also had to find a way to work with Shannon’s sword, but what she’d learned of how to swing a sword while studying at the university might not be enough to handle the Blade of Justice.

  On the other hand, unless a powerful supernatural leaped out of the bushes, she could put a hurting on any human. Laughing at herself for momentarily acting afraid of her shadow, she climbed on the bike and headed for the grocery.

  She’d flown on the back of a dragon this morning.

  Short of the red dragon coming to her door, she could handle anything else.

  She hurried to shop for the few staples she needed but took a moment to speak to the owner who had saved a peck of her favorite apples for her. She’d helped him with some rare vintage books. Being part of the community, she’d refused any payment, but she took the gift of shiny apples grown on a small farm now with a smile.

  Her stomach grumbled as she walked out of the grocer with a cloth tote bag filled. She’d parked her bike at the side of the building since the multi-bike stand had been full. The tote bag fit in the wide basket on her handlebars. She paused to fold the excess material at the top down so the wind wouldn’t drag it open.

  A hand latched onto her arm. “Do not make a sound.”

  She jolted at the level of power that buzzed against her skin and considered screaming until she stared into the chilling eyes of Cavan.

  Everything about him and the energy pulsing under his fingers warned she’d underestimated his casual visits.

  Herrick would be yelling at her right now for being distracted and not keeping her power concealed. The calculating look in Cavan’s gaze said he’d already assessed it.

  She hadn’t expected this to happen coming out of a grocery store.

  Note to self: Don’t make this mistake again.

  That would only help if she survived this meeting.

  “What do you want, Cavan?” she hissed under her breath.

  He said nothing for a moment, lifting his free hand for a second, then lowering it. “I’ve shielded our conversation. First, I will not hurt ya if ya behave. If ya do not, anyone who comes to interfere will die first, Miss Luigsech.”

  Her heart slammed her chest and her lungs seized. If she didn’t breathe soon, she’d hyperventilate. She swallowed down bile and calmed herself as much as she could.

  “Now that I have your attention, we can have a conversation,” Cavan said as if they chatted about the cost of peanut butter. She could see what Fenella had meant when she’d called this man attractive. Had he walked up and said hello with a smile, Casidhe would have been dazzled by his dark whiskey-colored eyes, dark brown hair, and smart gray suit.

  Instead, she saw a devil staring out of those dark eyes.

  She tried tugging her hand away.

  He increased his grip.

  “What do you want with me?” Casidhe demanded. “I’ve started readin’ your damn book.”

  His eyes flickered with something she’d almost call surprise, but it happened so quickly she couldn’t be sure.

  “So ya can actually translate the old languages? I had not believed that part,” he mused. “Why have ya been avoidin’ me?”

  “I’ve been busy. You’re not that important to me,” she bluffed. “I thought you were lookin’ for information on that Treoir family.”

  “Aye, and ya have that so do not pretend otherwise.”

  “I do not have anythin’ on them, but with a little time to research I might be willin’ to track it down if you start actin’ like a gentleman.”

  His fingers didn’t tighten this time, but energy pushed out from them, burning her skin.

  She ordered, “Stop it.” But her voice had come out more frightened than demanding.

  “I’m only lettin’ ya know it would not take much for me to gain the truth.” The burning ended as abruptly as his words.

  Damn if she didn’t feel herself being watched again. What had happened to her sanctuary in this village? She’d never suffered a moment of fear while living here, but she did now.

  She would have assigned the earlier sensation of being stalked to this man if not for it happening while he stood here. “Who are you, Cavan?”

  “For now, ya should use that name and not be stirrin’ up any more trouble.”

  “More? What have I done to you?” Her fingers were feeling numb from the bind he put on her arm.

  “You ran after I came by yar centre. Fenella does a fair job of coverin’ for ya, but I could not feel yar presence earlier today the way I had the first time.”

  She had gotten slack and stopped working so hard to shield her energy five years ago. To worry about the fact she’d failed to do so yet again at this moment would do no more good than closing the g
ate after horses have escaped. She said nothing, leaving him to continue the conversation.

  “Had ya not run, I might have dismissed ya as unimportant, but the fact that ya did told me ya had noticed my power. So now that we have revealed ourselves, ’tis time to get down to business.”

  Herrick had been right.

  She should not have gone to see him.

  Her head throbbed at the mistakes she’d made. Could Cavan track her route? As of now, she would not make that trip again. Fenella could send messages through their secret mail route.

  She’d been in this little village for so long, she’d lost all sense of threat. To be honest, she’d begun to enjoy life in spite of being alone with no hope of settling down any time soon.

  Good thing or performing her duty would put others in danger.

  A duty she was currently failing. Forcing strength into her voice, she asked, “Tell me what you want. If I can help you, I will. Then we don’t have to ever see each other again.”

  “Oh, but we are goin’ to be great friends for a bit.”

  Her stomach dropped at those words.

  “Now that we have met, ya know better than to run again,” he said, making it clear that had been an order. “If ya do, I will find ya and make ya regret inconveniencin’ me.”

  She refused to appear weak to him even if her knees knocked. “I’m not runnin’. For the third time, what do you freakin’ want?”

  He arranged his attractive face into an amused expression. “I do wish to have the book I left for ya translated for there is a passage in it I have trouble readin’.” He told her where to find that page.

  “Okay, is that all?” She should be so lucky.

  “No. Ya will wait to open the book to that page until I am there in the mornin’ and read it to me as I watch. Unless ya wish to go there now.”

  “No. I’m tired and hungry. I do not do my best translatin’ when exhausted or bein’ threatened.”

  Would he be able to see what her fingers revealed if he watched over her shoulder? She shrugged. “Meet me at ten and I’ll read what I can to you.”

  But she’d get in very early to get a jump on the text.

  As if he’d read her mind, he warned, “If ya touch the page before I arrive, I will know. The book and I have been close for many centuries.”

  That confirmed her sense of his power being very old. Could he be a druid? The Elder? Probably yes on druid, but no on the Elder. She had to keep her imagination from making this worse. Why would someone that powerful come to her?

  “Will there be anythin’ else?” She tried her best to sound as if he imposed on her time.

  His lips shaped into an indulgent smirk. “Tomorrow, ya and I are goin’ to search for a grimoire.”

  “What?” This guy kept blowing her mind.

  “’Tis an ancient book of majik,” he explained, sounding disgruntled that he’d had to explain it to someone with her background.

  She bit out, “I know what a grimoire is, but I can’t just go off with you.” Not if she wanted to be found alive again.

  “You should prepare to be gone however long it takes.” He completely ignored her words.

  Her heartbeat sped up like mad. “What specific grimoire? I might be able to find somethin’ on it so you can hunt it down.”

  “’Tis called the Immortuos Grimoire. We shall find it together.”

  She frowned, thinking back through all the books she’d reviewed and had catalogued into her personal collection. “I’ve never heard of that. I’ll need time to figure out where to start lookin’.”

  “Ya shall have the time ya need. With me at your side.” He released her.

  Casidhe rubbed her sore wrist where red marks appeared as an imprint of his fingers and scowled at him.

  “’Twill go away soon.” Taking a step back, he reminded her, “Do not think to not be there when I show up tomorrow mornin’.”

  “Give me a break. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” she gritted out.

  “Wise lass. If ya fail to be there when I arrive or think to run, yar friend will not enjoy waitin’ with me for yar return.” He turned and casually strode toward the trees.

  Her stomach roiled. He’d threatened Fenella.

  Nothing would prevent Casidhe from being at the ancestral centre ahead of Fenella. That bastard would not touch her friend.

  In fact, Casidhe had to get in touch with Fenella right away. Herrick might not like it, but Fenella had to go somewhere safe immediately and his castle topped anything Casidhe could provide.

  She could not deal with Cavan if it meant putting someone dear to her at risk.

  Fenella would normally come in early tomorrow so she and Casidhe could go over the schedule before the centre opened since Fenella contracted the work.

  She called Casidhe the talent.

  Not feeling talented right now.

  Cavan had never told her his true name or what he was, but the power radiating from him meant he didn’t have to either. Druid fit.

  She’d just met someone who only Herrick could go toe-to-toe with and win. She climbed onto her bike and gripped the handles hard to stop the shaking in her hands.

  Contacting Herrick took a week sometimes due to the convoluted route a cryptic message had to flow through. Fenella handled it every time. She knew the people along the way for passing along the missives where Casidhe knew only the few families she’d needed for making the trek to the castle.

  She would not go to Fenella’s farm and risk Cavan following her. If she didn’t get in touch with Fenella before they met at the centre in the morning, she’d send the woman out the escape route before Cavan appeared.

  Deep in her mind, Casidhe had a feeling Cavan would know the minute she arrived tomorrow morning. She really needed to get in touch with Fenella tonight.

  That would be the only way to keep her safe for sure.

  Then Casidhe and Lann an Cheartais were going to have a heart-to-heart. Now would be a good time for that sword to show it was on her side.

  Chapter 18

  Daegan leaned close to the end of a small stone building across the parking lot from a grocery store. He’d cloaked Tristan and himself so they could move to stand next to the front of the closed business and observed the Luigsech woman as she went in and out of the grocery.

  He opened up his senses to hear the conversation going on, then glanced over his shoulder at Tristan, who watched with a tense gaze. Tristan’s grim look echoed Daegan’s frame of mind.

  They’d come to this small village in what was now known as County Galway, thinking to find a woman called Casidhe Luigsech. Daegan had never been one to accept coincidences when it came to the enemy.

  He’d watched the ancestral research centre for hours until the man now speaking to Casidhe Luigsech showed up with something wrapped in a cloth.

  When he left the centre earlier, his hands were empty.

  This Luigsech woman arrived an hour later. An older woman who must have been inside all along left after that by truck.

  Now Luigsech spoke to this man who continued to glamour his identity and cloak their words, but not before Daegan heard her call him Cavan.

  More questions than answers about this woman.

  She had the same last name as the squire family King Gruffyn had written about in Daegan’s family chronicles.

  The Luigsech family his da had said to trust.

  That might have been the case thousands of years ago, but Daegan had a serious sense of mistrust right now. He hadn’t at first thought much about the young woman with her dark reddish-blond hair, eyes the color of polished sapphire, and a shapely body as she pedaled away from the centre. She’d appeared common enough, attractive actually, to be fair, but Daegan had changed his initial assessment.

  No common human would be conversing with a being capable of that glamour and shielding their words.

  Tristan suggested she looked to be in her late twenties.

  Daegan had considered walking into the
archival centre upon arriving here to ask questions. His sixth sense had made him wait.

  Now he was glad for it.

  Tristan spoke to him telepathically. Looks like Isak’s suspicions about this Luigsech woman were justified. Can you figure out who she’s talking to or with?

  Daegan replied, I only caught her callin’ him Cavan. He hides his appearance with a glamour for a reason. I wonder why he did not go to her when she sat alone in the building readin’? Daegan had watched her profile in the chair.

  Tristan mused, We don’t think she’s human, so he must also think that and decided to err on the side of caution by not walking in while she was there. He may think she has more power inside the building.

  ’Tis a valid point about his caution, Tristan. I suspect he’s been watchin’ for her to leave the buildin’ and he likely took a book in there for translatin’. Or perhaps for another reason to do with majik.

  Cavan released the woman’s arm and took a step back.

  Tristan asked, What now, boss?

  Daegan did not want to lose sight of that woman or Cavan. Following the woman would likely require cloaking, which only Daegan could do. Also, he believed Tristan could track Cavan with little trouble since Tristan could teleport away when need be. You follow Cavan, but stay far enough back he does not see you. If he cloaks himself and vanishes or does somethin’ else where you no longer have a way to follow him, stay there and call your location to me. If you do not hear right back, teleport to the same spot where we arrived earlier. I’m goin’ to follow that woman and see what else I can learn.

  Sounds like a plan, boss.

  His second-in-command’s irreverent speech implied Tristan’s confidence to carry out his task. Tristan would have made a great warrior back in the time of kingdoms and dragons.

  While waiting for the woman and Cavan to separate, Daegan drew in a deep breath. Every country had its own unique smell. He seemed to notice more here with his dragon senses.

  He had lost so much when Queen Maeve cursed him for eternity. Lost time with those he’d loved. The world had flown by and nothing would ever be the same again.