Dragon's Rebel (Wild Dragons Book 2)

by Anastasia Wilde

  She called on her anger and her fear. She needed this idol. Glaring at the dragon runes, she demanded, “Give me this idol! Let it go!”

  Power surged through her. The runes winked out. Tempest reached out and picked up the idol.

  Holy cow.

  The caverns shook, rocking under her feet like an earthquake. The tomb was failing. She had to go. Golden idol clutched in her hand, Tempest ran for the portal room.

  In the cavern, Tyr was battling rank after rank of hellhounds. Zane, in human form, was taking on the sorcerers, with Blaze backing them both up.

  They were all trying to figure out how many were real.

  Their attackers were still using their illusion spells, just in a more localized way, making their forces look ten times more numerous than they were.

  They were trying to wear down the dragons’ defenses, make them expend their energy fighting ghosts.

  But why?

  Tempest had told Blaze it had to do with Thorne and Rebel. That meant the two of them were in trouble, and Corwyn wanted to make sure no one came to their rescue.

  It also meant they were probably close to finding the Seal.

  Corwyn must believe he could get the Seal from Rebel, but what was he planning on doing with it? Destroying it, along with the Dragonfly Seal? Setting Vyrkos free? Or once Corwyn had the Seal, would he call off the attack?

  But even if this was just a distraction, it didn’t mean they couldn’t do real damage. The magical integrity of the tomb had started dropping the minute they started attacking.

  And there was always the danger to the Keepers. Blaze, and especially Tempest. Because she was the key to the third Seal.

  But she was also his mate. No one was going to get to Tempest, not while he still had breath in his body.

  They needed to wipe out this threat, and then get to the location Thorne had sent to them and back him and Rebel up until they could get that second Seal back here and into the wall.

  The cavern rocked as if an earthquake was going on. Tyr, in the air, wasn’t affected, but Blaze and Zane both stumbled. Zane took a magic missile in the shoulder, knocking him back.

  A crack snaked across the surface of the frozen lake of magic.

  Tyr was so shocked he barely escaped being hit himself. Real sorcerer, ten o’clock, he said to Zane, tracking the one who’d almost gotten him. Zane sent a missile flying back, but he missed.

  Two more cracks showed in Vyrkos’ tomb. The sorcerers had somehow managed to drain a critical amount of power, and the damn Draken Lord was waking up.

  Blaze ran to the side wall, where a brass six-pointed star about three feet across was embedded in the stone. It was the focus of the magic that held Vyrkos in the tomb, engraved with symbols and letters in ancient Draken. Three of the points had gold symbols inlaid in them. The top point held the Dragonfly Seal, and the other two held empty rounded depressions, waiting for the other two Seals.

  Tyr dodged another spell, then dove and flamed a clump of hellhounds. Fuck. There were more on the other side of the tomb, converging on Zane. And Blaze wasn’t helping anymore.

  She had her hand on the Dragonfly Seal, and white light was streaming through her body and out through her outstretched hand. It hit the biggest crack in the tomb, and it slowed down, then stopped.

  The light spread to the other cracks, and they, too, slowed.

  Hot damn.

  One of Zane’s spells hit a real sorcerer, and he went down. Some of the fake sorcerers and hellhounds winked out.

  At last they were getting somewhere.

  Then there was a crashing boom. The cavern shook again, and more cracks flashed across the surface of the tomb.

  Tempest, watching through the viewing monitor in the portal room, saw the cracks race across the surface of the tomb. Blaze was trying to hold them back, but they were too much for her. Zane and Tyr had all they could do to hold their own.

  Then, underneath the surface of the tomb, one of the great Draken’s eyes began to open, a spear of red light shining out of it.

  Vyrkos was awakening.

  Tempest heard a great booming voice in her mind. DRAKEN, HEAR AND OBEY ME! SET ME FREE!

  Both Tyr and Zane seized, as if in pain. Vyrkos was trying to take over their minds.

  The idol grew hot in her hands. It was connected to Vyrkos—the last piece of his hoard, the one the original tomb builders had used to finish the magic. That’s what made it so powerful.

  Tempest grabbed the big brass lever that opened the portal, and pushed it hard. As soon as the portal formed in the wall, she raced through.

  It was chaos. Everything was shaking, and she could hardly keep her feet. Blaze was weakening, her knees buckling, and the cracks were getting ahead of her.

  The dragons were going crazy, spells misfiring in all directions.

  Tempest ran out onto the tomb, right over Vyrkos’ head. All her fear and fury for Tyr and her friends, for Rebel and Thorne, coalesced in her mind.

  She held the idol in both hands and reached for the connection to Vyrkos.

  “Stop that right now!” she commanded. Power surged through her, and she saw her hands start to glow.

  The shaking stopped. Everything stopped, frozen.

  Tempest, what are you doing?

  She had to block out Tyr’s voice. “Vyrkos, stop it! Go back to sleep!”

  For a second she thought she’d done it. Then she felt the Draken Lord’s anger gathering, pushing back at her, huge and dark and terrifying.

  But Tyr and Zane were free. Vyrkos was paying attention to her, not them, and the cracks in the tomb had stopped.

  The shaking had stopped.

  Zane slammed a crushing spell into another sorcerer, knocking him backwards. Tyr took out a swath of hellhounds that were bearing down on her.

  Then all that fell away. Vyrkos anger pressed down on her like an enormous boulder. She braced herself, fighting back, feeling like Atlas in the Greek myth, holding up the world.

  It was crushing her. She felt her nose start bleeding, and then her ears. But she wouldn’t give up.

  She wouldn’t give up.

  Chapter 48

  Rebel faced Mr. Johnson, the man who had stolen her life.

  “You bloody fucking asshole.” She advanced on him, not even caring that he was holding a gun. All the fury she’d held inside since her parents died rose up and spilled over.

  “You separated me and my sister,” she spat. “You erased our past. You put Tempest in that hellhole—”

  “Ah ah ah,” he said, moving the pistol in warning. “None of that. Just hand over that artifact you have there, and forget you ever saw me.”

  She stopped. “That’s a ‘hell no’ on both counts.”

  “You should have forgotten me the first time,” he said.

  “Too bad you suck at mind magic.”

  His gaze was flat and unruffled. “You’re lucky I was there at all. You and your little sister would both be dead if it weren’t for me and my tender heart.”

  This man did not look at all like he had a tender heart. He looked like he would shoot her without a second thought.

  She scanned the garden with her peripheral vision. The tunnel was collapsed, and he was in front of the gate. The only way out was over the wall. Or through him.

  Either way, she’d have to be fast.

  Rebel took another step forward, trying to distract him with her anger. “You fucked with my sister’s memory. She doesn’t even remember our parents, for God’s sake.”

  “It’s better that way.”

  “Says you. You don’t know what it’s like to have no past.”

  Surprisingly, he laughed at that, though the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “You’d be surprised. Now hand over the artifact.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or I’ll shoot you to get it. Which would be a shame, considering all the trouble I went to protecting you all those years ago.”

  “Was it our parents you were trying to
make us forget? Or were you just covering your own ass?”

  “You don’t need to know my reasons. But you need to disappear again. If you give me the artifact, you’re free to go.”

  The gunfire was louder now, interspersed with shouting and the baying of hellhounds. There was an explosion that sounded like a grenade detonating.

  “Hear that?” Mr. Johnson said. “There’s a battle going on—my men against the sorcerers who kidnapped you. Both sides want what you have in your hands, but neither of them is particularly worried about you. I’m the only one who can get you out.” His voice was soft and persuasive. His face began to fill Rebel’s whole vision.

  “I can get you out safely, help you disappear again. There are still those that believe your mother’s and father’s bloodlines should never have been joined. That the powers you and your sister hold are dangerous abominations and should be eliminated—by eliminating the two of you.”

  Rebel jerked her mind back. Damn him. She could feel the energy net the fucker was weaving around her.

  Trying to mess with her mind again. Like Corwyn and D’Amboise, he kept underestimating her.

  He was still talking in that soothing, hypnotic tone. “All you have to do is give me the illegal dragon artifact, and you’ll be safe.”

  Yeah… no.

  Rebel let his influence ripple off her, just like she had when she was twelve years old. Only now she was better at it.

  “Nice try,” she said. “Still doesn’t work on me. And you’re getting this Seal over my dead body.” She felt a rumbling in the ground underneath her. The bracelet began vibrating.

  It was about time. Thorne?

  “I tried to help you,” Johnson said. “Now you have five seconds before I shoot.” He cocked his gun.

 

  There was a rush of wind. Leaves blew by Rebel’s face, and her bracelet grew hot on her arm.

  The ground shook, the earth lurching under their feet.

  Rebel was ready for it. Mr. Johnson was not. He stumbled as the earth rocked, and she leaped for his gun, wrenching it out of his hand. She followed with an elbow to the side of the throat, and then slammed the gun down on the back of his head.

  He went down.

  The earth was heaving, and she heard shouts and screams from the direction of the house. Thorne. His dragon was awakening, and she needed to get higher up, where he could get to her.

  Rebel shoved the Seal into a pocket of her cargo pants, and then took two steps and jumped, her hands grasping the top of the stone wall that surrounded the private garden. She pulled herself up and scrambled to the top of the wall, then turned back toward the house.

  The lawn between the house and the garden was heaving and buckling. As she watched, an enormous scaly blue back with protruding spine ridges rose out of the ground, followed by two huge forepaws, clawing at the earth.

  There was another great heave, and Thorne’s head and neck came free. He gave an earsplitting roar.

  Rebel heard a whoomp, and a grenade shot from one of the upper windows of the house. It exploded against Thorne’s left flank, opening a bloody wound.

  He roared again, then turned and slammed his forehead into the wall of the mansion with a tremendous boom. The side of the house bowed inward, and then began to crumble. Men were shooting at him from all sides.

  “Thorne!” she screamed.

  A putrid wind smelling of decay enveloped her, and an invisible force wrapped around her torso, pinning her arms to her sides. Rebel was yanked off the wall and onto Corwyn’s giant flying ostrich, the ground receding below.

  Thorne clawed his way out of the earth, just in time to see Corwyn snatch Rebel off the top of the garden wall and pull her onto his baraka.

  He was getting away.

  OURS! his dragon bellowed. HE WILL NOT TAKE OUR TREASURE!

  Thorne launched himself into the air, ignoring the bullets and spells stinging his hide. The healing power from the bonding was still alive in his blood, and the wound from the grenade was already closing.

  Nothing could stop him from rescuing his mate.

  The baraka was fast, though. Thorne sent a magic missile at it, trying to bring it down. Rebel would fall, but he would catch her. He would always catch her.

  The baraka dodged, and Corwyn glanced behind him. Seeing Thorne, he cast a shield that surrounded them, protecting them from magic.

  Thorne flew hard and fast. He was catching up. Rebel was fighting Corwyn; he could see her kicking and struggling. The sorcerer slapped her hard across the face.

  Rage ignited in Thorne’s belly, and he increased his speed. He tried to call out to Rebel, but there was no answer. The shield must be blocking him.

  Then, to his horror, he saw a portal open up in front of the baraka. They were flying straight for it.

  Thorne was calling frantically to Rebel, even though he knew she couldn’t hear. Jump! he called out to her. You can get through the shield. Jump! I’m here!

  He saw her craning her neck, looking for him, but she couldn’t see him.

  The portal was looming up before them. If Corwyn took her through it, she could end up anywhere. He’d never find her.

  Jump, he called. Trust me. Please, trust me.

  As if she heard, Rebel grabbed one of the baraka’s reins and yanked on it, hard. The creature’s head jerked around, and its wings tilted abruptly.

  Corwyn was knocked off balance, his hold on Rebel loosening.

  Trust me.

  Rebel wrenched out of Corwyn’s hold and let herself fall.

  Chapter 49

  Rebel plummeted through the air, the ground rushing up to meet her. She was counting seconds: one… two…

  On three, Thorne flew up underneath her and she landed on his back, her feet hitting his shoulders just between his first two spinal ridges. The fabulous tail swung forward and wrapped around her, steadying her.

  “Nice work, Lizard,” she said. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” Thorne would always have her back, or die trying. She knew that now.

  You gave me another heart attack, Thorne said.

  Above her, Corwyn and the baraka shot through the portal.

  “And I’m about to give you still another one. We need to follow him through that portal. I saw into it—it goes straight into Vyrkos’ tomb.”

  After one shocked second of silence, Thorne wheeled around, beating his wings toward the portal. Is this what your sister saw?

  “I don’t know.” Rebel sat down between Thorne’s spine ridges, straddling his neck. “But I sure as hell think we better go see.”

  When they reached the portal, Thorne folded his wings to make himself as slender as possible. As soon as they were through, he snapped them open and backwinged, slowing down their trajectory. They hovered at the top of the cavern, looking down on disaster.

  The cavern was filled with sorcerers and hellhounds. Tyr was diving, flaming a group of hellhounds, but more just seemed to fill the space. He was covered with wounds, and his wings were sluggish.

  Blaze sagged against the wall by the brass star that held the Seals. Light streamed from her to the tomb, where Tempest was on her knees in the middle of the frozen lake, the golden idol clutched in her hands.

  She was struggling to get up, but it was like there was an invisible boulder on her back. Still she strained against it, even though blood ran down her face from her nose and ears.

  There were cracks in the surface of the tomb underneath her, but they weren’t getting any bigger.

  It was like she was struggling to hold the whole thing together, though Rebel couldn’t see how. Zane, in human form, was fighting hellhounds and sorcerers, trying to keep them away from Blaze and Tempest.

  Rebel was so busy looking at what was going on below that she didn’t see Corwyn at the top of the cavern until Thorne went after him, spewing fire.

  Corwyn’s shield deflected it. Tyr finished his strafing run and winged up to hit Corwyn from the rear.

  Just t
hen, a magic missile hit Zane’s wounded shoulder and deflected off, exploding as it skimmed his temple. He staggered and went down.

  Corwyn’s magically amplified voice thundered through the cavern. “Sorcerers! Deploy!”

  Immediately, all the sorcerers on the ground drew flashing red jewels from inside their robes, and smashed them on the floor of the cavern.

  They detonated, sending lines of magic shooting up into the air and spiderwebbing out, intertwining and forming…

  A net. A spell net. And Tyr and Thorne were caught inside, trapped against the roof of the cavern.

  Rebel held on to Thorne’s spinal ridge as he thrashed, trying to break through the net, but it held him like he was a moth in a spiderweb. Tyr looked panicked, trying to batter his way out.

  I can’t get free, Thorne said. I’m trying…

  “Be still!” The command boomed out.

  Everyone froze; the whole cavern went silent. Corwyn rose slowly up on his baraka until he was level with Rebel.

  He gazed at her with those demonic, fiery eyes.

  “Give me the Seal.”

  Rebel shook her head. “No fucking way.”

  “You have no choice. You have lost.” He flicked his fingers at the scene below. “Your witch is using all her strength to shore up her one Seal. The tomb is failing. Your sister is holding back Vyrkos, but she is weakening, and when she falls, Vyrkos will rise.”

  He spread his hands out. “You cannot get the Seal into the sigil. But if you give it to me, I will use it to control Vyrkos.”

  “You still think that’s going to work?”

  “I spent a thousand years in this tomb. A thousand years with Vyrkos. I know.”

  He leaned forward. “If you refuse, Vyrkos will rise, and he will lay waste to this city. If you give me what I ask, you and your friends will die, but all those people will be saved.”

  He studied her face, then added. “And I will save your sister.”

  Tempest. Rebel would do anything to save Tempest.

  Too bad she didn’t believe one fucking word that came out of this sorcerer’s mouth.

  “It’s a lie. You won’t save her.”