by Elle Thorne
A loud crack sounded in her mind, reminding her of the snap of a whip. She flinched from the sudden assault of the sound.
Orkney doubled over. The ribbon unwrapped itself from around him and came back to Jolie.
Suddenly, time stopped. All sounds disappeared. Everything was still. The bears were frozen in place, as were Orkney and the dragon shifter. They were statues.
Jolie collapsed against a tree, the rough bark scratching her arm. A blueish-purple aura bubble surrounded her. Confusion ran in rampant circles in her mind. What had happened? She hadn’t done this. She didn’t even know what the hell this was. The only thing she did know was she wasn’t frozen, and they were. But she was horribly weak. She should take this opportunity to escape. To leave Orkney and the bears behind. She studied the terrain to assess the best way to get out then glanced at the dragon shifter. Running off would mean leaving him behind. She couldn’t do that.
Trepidation in every step, she placed one foot in front of the other and made her way toward the dragon shifter, holding her breath that the bears or Orkney would not suddenly come out of whatever they were under which kept them frozen. Her steps were slow, not only out of fear but also because she was drained. Whatever that ribbon of power had done, it had also left her weaker than before.
Not only that, the energy ribbon seemed to have formed a sphere that surrounded her, of the same color the ribbon had been.
She reached the dragon shifter and leaned close. “Are you there?” she whispered in his ear.
No response.
She looked into his eyes, saw nothing there. In fact, she didn’t even see the irises and pupils of a dragon. When Oiddras had shifted into his human form on those rare occasions, she’d noticed his eyes were different. She’d asked him. He’d explained that dragons had elliptical vertical pupils. She’d studied his eyes, with their gold striations that burst outward through the irises like twin sunbursts. She’d even noticed that when he was angry the striations resembled golden lightning.
But this emerald-scaled dragon did not have eyes like that. She studied those eyes closer. Then she noticed. Contacts! He was wearing contacts to hide his dragon. How brilliant. And she wondered how many dragons were out there that no one knew about because they could hide their eyes.
Foolishness, she scolded herself. She didn’t have the time for meandering thoughts. She needed to save herself. And him, she reminded herself. She somehow needed to save this dragon as well.
She put her hand on his shoulder. The indigo energy sphere surrounded him as well, enclosing both of them within. Her strength was instantly sapped. Her world became darker, like a tunnel closing in around her.
He snapped to action. Grabbed her wrist. “What have you done? Why can’t I shift?”
She jerked her wrist out of his hand with what strength she could muster. “I didn’t affect your shift.” She found the draining of her strength slackening. Her world once more came into focus.
But he was frozen, hand midair where it had been when she’d yanked free of his grasp. And the sphere of power no longer encompassed him.
Why did it drain her when she touched him? Why did it snap him out of the stasis he’d been in? She waved her hand in front of his face.
No response.
What would happen if she touched him again? She put her hand on his shoulder once more.
Instant drain. Instant tunnel vision, the world fading to black.
He glared at her hand on his shoulder, arched a brow. “What is—?”
“Listen to me.” She felt herself draining away, losing time, and possibly consciousness. “When I touch you, you snap out of it.” Whatever it is. “Get us out of here. You—”
Chapter Eleven
Matteo grabbed her as she collapsed against him. She’d said when they touched, he didn’t freeze up. So, by damn, he wasn’t letting go of her. He brushed her hair from her face. That was when he noticed the purplish aura surrounding them. It looked solid, but when he held one hand out, it passed through the air in the bubble, though it left shimmering waves in its wake. Odd, that. He wondered what it was but had more important matters to attend to.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Are you there?”
She was out. Completely.
He glanced at the trio that had been ready to kill him. How he’d love to take them out right now. How could he do that unless he was a dragon. How could he keep holding her if he was his dragon and, at the same time, kill them? How much time did he have before they woke up?
He pushed his dragon to finish the shift. The dragon strained and strained to no avail. He and the dragon were stuck like this. And stuck with her, if what she’d said was correct.
He knew it was. One minute he was roaring because he couldn’t shift. Then he was frozen. Then she was touching him—she’d been invisible or gone before that—then when she wasn’t touching him, it all froze again. Then she touched him once more, and—poof!—just like that, he was able to move.
There was only one option. He had to get the hell out of here. And fast. And with her.
He heaved her over his shoulder and began the trek toward Mae’s inn. As he walked, he pulled the phone out of his pocket. No signal.
Great. He grimaced. Just great.
Many minutes later, more like over an hour later, he had no idea how far he’d gone. He’d usually have flown this route toward the clearing and he’d have been much faster, but now, on foot, who knew? He stumbled on a root and caught himself, just before tumbling headfirst into a bed of pine needles. She’d have been thrown off and injured.
He righted himself and kept going, pushing through the trees and brush, careful not to let her swing too much so she wouldn’t hit her head. He walked fast, eager to get as far away as possible from his foes.
Pulling the phone back out, he saw he had some bars. Low signal was better than no signal. He punched on the icon for Salvatore and held it to his ear while he kept moving through the woods.
Salvatore picked up, and Matteo started talking before the dragon leader could issue a greeting.
“I need help. I’m half-shifted. I can’t shift into my dragon. I’m bringing an unconscious sorceress with me. There are a couple of bear shifters and a guy—probably a sorcerer—trying to kill me.”
“You’re on speaker. Griz is with me. What are your coordinates?”
Matteo pulled the phone’s coordinates up using the map app and recited them to Salvatore. Salvatore hung up.
Matteo stayed put, eyes on the direction he’d come from. Leaving now would only serve to make it difficult for Griz and Salvatore to find him. He should have checked the coordinates where he’d left that damned set of bastards intent on killing him.
Hindsight is 20/20, isn’t it?
A thought occurred to him. Would Griz and Salvatore be able to move once they reached him or would they be frozen like he had been?
He placed her on the ground and sat next to her, his hand on hers, unwilling to part skin contact for fear of being in that freaky stasis place he’d been in before.
His phone rang. He moved his hand to fish it out. Lost contact with her—
The bubble popped.
Chapter Twelve
Jolie opened her eyes. Next to her, the dragon shifter man was frozen, scales still covering his skin. They were leaning against a tree. His phone was on the ground between them.
He’d let go of her. Whatever spell they’d been under that made all of them freeze and had freed him when she’d touched him, he’d now put it back into effect. The energy sphere was gone from around him, only surrounding her.
Why had she lost consciousness? Was she weak from all the mana drained from using spells? And why had that ribbon of power traveled between her and Orkney. How she wished she was back with the sorceresses who’d been training her before she’d been one those abducted. She’d be able to get answers to all of this if only she was still there.
She put her hand on the dragon shifter’s. The sphere su
rrounding her once more took him in.
She ran her fingertips over his arm. His skin was hot to the touch, though the scales looked like they’d feel cool.
He flinched and snapped his head in her direction. “What is it with you? Why is it that when we’re not making contact, I’m going into a deep freeze?”
She noticed he had an accent. Like hers, his was not American. She wondered where this dragon was from but didn’t think this was the time to get the answers. Not those answers, anyhow. “I don’t know. Something happened when those bears were going to kill you.”
Eyes narrowed, he studied her. “So, you were there. You used some kind of spell to hide. You’re a sorceress.”
She nodded. “Yes. I did use a spell to hide.”
“Then you used some kind of spell to freeze everything.” His features softened. “I suppose I owe you. You saved me.” His face turned hard once more. “Are you the reason I can’t shift into my dragon?”
She shook her head. “I don’t even know how to do any spells that involve dragons. I’m—” How was she to explain she was barely able to manage the obfuscation enchantment, the ivy manipulation, and the spell that cast him out of the treehouse?
That she’d been Orkney’s prisoner while he drained her—and the other sorceresses’—mana. That she didn’t even know what that freezing thing was about. It was like time stood still while she could move around in it. None of the sorceresses had ever done that, nor had they mentioned it as being something that one could do. “I don’t know how everything froze either. One second, they’re going to kill you, next, this ribbon of power—did you see it?—flowed between Orkney and me, then next, everything’s gone still.”
“Orkney? Who’s that? The sorcerer or the bears? You know them? Who are they? What do they want?”
She recoiled. She’d been afraid he might be associated with them somehow, maybe even be an enemy since he clearly wasn’t their friend. They wouldn’t want to kill a friend. But he knew nothing about the trio. Would discussing them put her in graver danger?
“Matteo,” a new voice said. “There you are.”
Jolie jumped up. Before her were two men. Large men, and each with an aura. Clearly shifters. She looked at their eyes. One had the amber flames of a shifter. The other—nothing. If he didn’t have the amber flames characteristic of shifters, but he an aura—
Dragon! Another dragon. They’d called the emerald dragon shifter Matteo. Matteo, interesting name. So, they were his friends. Did that mean she could trust them? Her flight-or-fight response yielded to flight. She released Matteo and crouched, ready to run.
“Wait.” He took hold of her hand.
She stared at him and was sure his face mirrored her own surprise.
“It wore off,” he said. “I’m not— I can—”
“Yes.” She noticed the ribbon’s aura no longer bubbled her in.
“That means your friends,” he said, “might be able to catch up with us.”
“Not my friends,” she spat.
A throat being cleared pulled her attention from Matteo. Both of them turned to look at the approaching duo.
“Salvatore.” Matteo headed toward the one she’d suspected was a dragon while the one with the tawny flames in his eyes kept a close eye on her. “We need to get out of here.”
Salvatore pointed at Matteo’s arm. “Your dragon. What happened?”
Matteo glanced from her to Salvatore. “I’m not sure.”
“Don’t look at me.” Hostility made her bristle at the thought he might actually think she could have—would have—done this to him.
“I’m not,” he snapped. “But something weird goes on when you’re around. That’s for damned certain.”
“I’m Griz,” the shifter introduced himself, holding out a hand to shake. “You are?”
Should she? She appraised them, and though Matteo seemed irritable at this stage, he did save her life, and these were clearly his friends. “Jolie.”
“Where are you from, Jolie? Do you have family in the area?” the man who was not Griz, but probably a dragon, said. His accent definitely indicated that, like Matteo, he, too, wasn’t American. Then as though it were an afterthought, he added. “My name is Salvatore.”
“I have no family in the area. Why are there dragons here?”
Salvatore and Matteo exchanged a glance.
“Where would you expect them to be?” Griz asked.
“Oiddras said—”
Salvatore jerked to attention. “Oiddras? You know Oiddras?”
She flinched at the fervor in his tone. “Do you?”
“If it’s the same Oiddras, an old dragon shifter who lived in Norway—”
“Denmark,” she told him. “He was last in Denmark, watching over me and—” What the hell possessed her to tell them anything about herself. Or even about Oiddras. “How do you know of Oiddras?”
A smile appeared on Salvatore’s austere features, chasing away the fierceness. Though his expression of ferocity had nothing on the man who’d called himself Griz, what with a massive scar that sliced down his face, making Jolie wonder about the story behind the injury.
“I used to know Oiddras when I was but a dragonling. He’s an old, old dragon. He’s well, I trust?”
The sadness that flooded Jolie forced a rush of tears to her eyes. She twitched her nose, bidding them away, wanting so bad to pinch the bridge of her nose, to make the telltale signs of losing Oiddras go away. “I don’t think so.”
Would that suffice? How could she say if he was alive or not? The intruders wouldn’t have allowed Oiddras to live. And Oiddras wouldn’t have allowed them to take her, Blaise, and the sorceresses captive. Nor would he have allowed so many of the other sorceresses to be killed.
Salvatore frowned then turned to Griz. “He went into seclusion long ago. He dropped off the face of the earth. I’d assumed he went underground and hibernated, as the dragons of old were known to do.”
Jolie listened intently. She had no idea what any dragons of old used to do. She only knew Oiddras and what little he’d shared with her—stressing the word little. She noticed Matteo was transfixed by Salvatore’s explanation. Did he not know these things about the dragons of which Salvatore spoke? For he was a dragon as well.
Unfortunately, Salvatore spoke on the matter no further, leaving Jolie to wonder. Perhaps she’d get a chance at some later time to ask him about Oiddras and the ways of dragons. Then again, she doubted she would, for why would she even know Salvatore? Her intention was to get as far away as possible. To find the sorceress coven she’d been a part of and see if they could help her save Blaise from Orkney’s clutches.
“We should consider going,” Matteo said. “In the event they come looking for us. Not to mention”—he rubbed his scaled arms—“I’d rather not be seen like this. These woods are occasionally frequented by hikers.”
“I imagine we could take them,” Griz said.
“Unless they made it so you can’t shift, as Matteo is now,” Jolie felt the need to remind them.
Sexy dragon shifter Matteo gave her a sidelong glance, maybe because she’d picked up his name. She raised her brow back at him. She wasn’t deaf. Or stupid.
“You’re convinced they did this to him?” Griz pushed the issue.
“I know I did not. And there was no one else there.”
“That we could see,” Matteo reminded her with a smirk. “What if they were hidden with some sort of spell.” He didn’t say, the way you were, but the implication was in his tone.
Jolie had to concede he had a point. What if there had been another individual there? A spellcaster of some sort she couldn’t see? A shudder ran through her at the creepiness of that thought. “Wouldn’t that person need to be the one that took the spell away, then? So you can shift back?”
“Unless we have a caster of our own who can counter that. Let’s get a move on.” Griz started to walk away. He glanced back at Jolie “Will you join?”
Sh
e didn’t know if she should. Then again, her odds with this group were better than on her own. Especially since she still had no mana do use to cast a spell to protect herself. And she had no idea if there was another spellcaster out there. Not to mention, if said spellcaster meant her ill. For why else would they have gone after Matteo, the one helping her?
Chapter Thirteen
Matteo recognized the sorceress was exhausted. Jolie, he reminded himself, she’d told them her name, though not her last name, he’d noticed. And indeed, she was exhausted. She tried to hide her fatigue, but it showed in the way she occasionally struggled. The way her feet dragged. The hollowness beneath her eyes. He knew what this fatigue was. It was not unfamiliar to him. He’d witnessed it before, when his Draecenguard sorceress Alzbeta had used up all of her mana casting spells, back when they were secluded in their life in the abandoned monastery nestled in the Pontic Mountains.
They reached a path, and Griz veered off trail. “This way. We’ve got a vehicle. It’ll get us back to Mae’s quicker.”
Matteo appreciated this for the sake of the tired sorceress, though she probably had no idea how much travel by foot Griz was saving them.
At Mae’s bed-and-breakfast, smoke swirled, rising from the chimney above the large sitting area. When they walked in, the scent of bacon and eggs filled the air.
Mae stepped out of the kitchen, a dishtowel in hand. She tossed it on a sideboard and strode forward. “Doc’s on his way to check on you.” Then Griz stepped aside, and she caught sight of Matteo’s half-shifted state. “Oh, my. What happened to you?”
Matteo shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
Mae’s dark eyes, their indigo flames announcing the presence of her elemental, took in the sight of Jolie, studying her. “I’m Mae.” She went into mama-hen mode, fussing over Jolie, pressing her into the kitchen, murmuring about how she must be hungry and how was she and such. She used a calming voice which made even Matteo feel more comfortable. Just before Mae was out of sight in the kitchen, she turned toward Griz. “Go get Sam.” Then she left the room.