Forever Rowan

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Forever Rowan Page 7

by Violet Summers


  His expression grew more menacing. His blue eyes darkened to an eerie kind of grey. “How old was she when your father brought her home?”

  She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. No words would form, he was terrifying her.

  “Dammit, Rowan, answer my fuckin’ question!”

  “Three, I think. Maybe four?”

  He released her so suddenly she fell back against the mattress. He lunged to his feet and paced the room, muttering in a language she didn’t recognize--Dragon? As he paced, his rant grew louder, until he stopped suddenly and yanked free the shirt he’d covered the camera with and roared directly into the lens.

  When he’d finished yelling, he turned and slammed his fist into the wall.

  She felt helpless to stop him as he continued to pummel the concrete until his knuckles were bleeding. It was almost a relief when he turned his thunderous gaze back on her. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, his eyes rolled up in his head and he crumpled to the floor.

  “Oh, no,” Rowan cried as she flew off the bed and landed next to him. She checked his pulse; his heart was pounding violently, but he was still breathing. She let out the breath she was holding. The chip. Aidan’s anger was so great that it must have caused the chip to knock him out.

  Rowan wondered if that were a blessing or a curse.

  * * * *

  Nic Alero sat back in Aidan’s office chair, Jenna Stone, his One, held securely in his lap. “It’s been over a week,” he argued. “I’m completely healed. It’s past time to go in again.”

  Jenna squeezed his hand, and watched him with dark, worried eyes. “Father will have moved them by now. Security will be very tight around them. Nico, I’m afraid it’s too late.” Her words stabbed him in the heart, not only because she’d be devastated if she lost her sisters, but because of his own guilt and grief over the loss of Aidan. The Dragon was an ass, no doubt, but he was also one of Nic’s closest friends, second only to Sebastian, Nic’s Blood Brother. He squeezed his eyes shut and held Jenna closer. “We will get them out.” Nic’s eyes snapped open at the deep voice. Remy Monroe, the Dragon Prince, stood in the doorway slightly behind Bas. The older Vampire wasn’t a small man, but the Dragon Prince dwarfed him. He spoke quietly, but his voice rolled through the room like thunder, compelling all who heard him to stop and listen. His Irish heritage was plain in his pale, milky skin, the rich blue-black of his hair, and his dancing blue eyes.

  Nic had met the Prince once when he’d stopped in to visit Aidan. Whatever had passed between the men had left Aidan pissed for weeks, but the stubborn dragon refused to talk about it.

  Nic lifted Jenna gently to her feet, then stood and gave the bigger man a slight bow. “Prince Monroe, we are extremely happy to see you.”

  “Bah,” the larger man rolled his eyes. “I’m Remy.” Sharp, bold eyes swept the room before the Dragon Prince addressed them again. “Your mate--your One?” Nic nodded at the question in Remy’s voice. “She is as lovely as Sebastian told me.”

  “She is even more beautiful on the inside,” Nic assured him as Jenna flushed at his side.

  “Then I understand why you’d risk everything to save those she loves.”

  “Well, I’m not willing to risk Aidan,” Jenna interjected tartly. “Even if he is an insufferable ass,” she added in a mutter. Nic grinned as Remy burst into laughter. Even Bas gave a small smile. Nic’s Blood Brother had been unusually quiet and somber since Aidan’s capture, and evaded all Nic’s questions. Nic suspected Jenna knew what was troubling the older Vampire, but she wasn’t talking, either.

  “I can see that you do, indeed, know our Aidan,” the Dragon chuckled with a smile at Nic’s beloved. Sobering, Remy pulled a paper from his inside coat pocket. Unfolding it, he laid it on the table.

  “That’s my home,” Jenna sighed.

  “Yes, it is,” the Dragon replied. “I was able to get the plans to the house, as well as the renovations to the secret floors beneath.” Nic breathed a sigh of relief. One of the factors in their crushing defeat during the first rescue attempt had been the numerous changes William Stone had made to the access points for the lower levels since Jenna’s escape. Stone had the money and the manpower to change things almost instantly. Remy continued, “We believe Aidan is being held here.” He pointed to the third underground floor. “This is where the cells are. The second floor contains the clinical rooms where Stone is working on something.”

  Nic studied the map along with Bas. “This doesn’t look good. How many access points are there?”

  Remy move his finger along a series of outside hallways. “Three. One here and two on the east side of the house.”

  Nic stroked his chin, as Bas chimed in. “So we’ll need four teams; three to cause distractions at each access point, and one to do the rescue.”

  Remy nodded. “I’ve brought along enough men for two-five man teams. I won’t lose a kinsman to that butcher.”

  Nic pulled Jenna closer against his side, kissing her temple. Her body quivered as he held her.

  “I don’t plan to lose anyone.” Bas responded grimly. He looked up at the Dragon Prince, and his eyes flashed like lightning.

  Remy smiled again, but this time it was feral and showing a lot of teeth. “Let’s go, then,” he growled. “We should move no later than tomorrow night. The Sacred Mother knows the longer they are there the less likely it is that Aidan will walk out of there on his own two feet, no matter how ornery a bastard he is.”

  Bas nodded and soon the two men left to begin assigning teams and tasks.

  Nic turned Jenna into his chest. He framed her face with his hands. “I don’t want you to come with us.”

  “She’s my sister.” Her soft whisper never failed to tear at his gut.

  He leaned down to capture her lips in a soulful kiss, pouring all his love into her. “I know,” he whispered back. Dammit, he wanted to force her to stay but knew he couldn’t. She needed to do this. His One needed to be involved in bringing her sister to safety. Better that she come with his blessing and his protection than have her sneaking in to help.

  “You will stay behind me where I can protect you,” he told her sternly, and she solemnly agreed. “Beloved,” he added softly, “if I were to lose you, I wouldn’t survive.” Nic meant every word he’d said. If Jenna were to die, he would perish right along with her.

  * * * *

  Aidan had been unconscious for about a half hour when the outer door opened. Rowan scrambled to cover Aidan’s body with her own, determined to provide whatever feeble protection she could. The dimmer in the room was turned up, and blindingly bright light shot out of the ceiling. Two guards dressed in full gear muscled through the door, guns drawn.

  “Relax gentleman, he’ll be out for a bit.” A tall, broad man in a lab coat entered behind the guards. Jordan. The guards pointed their weapons point at the floor, but neither looked particularly relaxed.

  “You can wait in the other room,” he said negligently as he rolled in a steel cart. Upon it bandages, tape, some kind of salve, alcohol pads and a small plastic specimen cup sat forebodingly.

  “No can do, Doc. Mr. Stone gave clear directions. No one can be alone with these two while he’s unrestrained.” The guard gestured toward Aidan with his gun, and Rowan instinctively moved to cover her lover again.

  The doctor rolled his eyes, but said nothing as he moved over the pile of clothes. He threw them at Rowan. “Put these on.”

  She quickly pulled the cotton t-shirt and sweat pants on. She’d completely forgotten about her nudity in her terror for Aidan. Now she was painfully aware of the guards’ eyes on her.

  Seemingly oblivious, the doctor bent down and examined Aidan’s bloody hands and began cleaning them up.

  She moved so that her back was to the camera. “Jordan. How did you know he was out?” she whispered. He didn’t answer, just slid a grim look in her direction. She tried again. “Jordan, please help us.”

  The doctor still hadn’t
acknowledge her words. Instead, he retrieved a cup from the tray. Handing it to Rowan he grimaced. “You need to pee in the cup for me.”

  “What? Why?” Understanding dawned on her. “Jordan, there is no way to tell if I’m pregnant or not. Its only been a few hours.”

  The doctor spread the salve over the cuts on Aidan’s knuckles. He didn’t look up as he answered. “Actually, there is. Rowan, you’re human. When you become pregnant with the Dragon’s child your DNA structure will alter immediately to prepare your body to carry the offspring.”

  She reached out, a combination of horror and terror filling her. “Jordan, please...” She felt the tears drop as she reached out to the only person in this whole evil place she thought of as a friend.

  “Do as I say, Rowan.” His voice was hard, his eyes like granite. Unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, very carefully he pulled back his collar a fraction. “Your father wants the results right away.”

  The small microphone on the inside of his shirt told her all she needed to know. Poor Jordan, he wasn’t unsympathetic. He was wired.

  She stumbled into the bathroom and sat down to fill the plastic cylinder, her mind racing. She couldn’t be pregnant already. Could she? Her hand went to her abdomen. No, not yet. Please God, not yet.

  When she exited the bathroom, Aidan was placed on the bed. Jordan took the cup from her. He silently rolled his eyes up. Rowan followed his grim glance--the camera was still uncovered. That was how they had known Aidan was out cold. It was good news; it meant the room wasn’t bugged. It made sense that her father would be so careless. In his arrogance, he couldn’t conceive of a situation where Aidan and Rowan escaped.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” Jordan told her before leaving the room. Rowan jumped as the steel door of their jail slammed shut.

  Troubled, Rowan looked down at her Dragon. At first she’d been confused and terrified by Aidan’s outburst of fury. After she calmed down, she had a pretty good idea why he’d gone ballistic.

  Erin was related to him. Was her baby sister really his long-lost sister? Was she Fiona, the child he mourned so desperately that he’d etched her name on his back? She couldn’t imagine it. Erin was so unlike Aidan. True, they shared the same hair color, but her blue eyes were closer to grey. She was tall like Aidan, but rail thin and fragile. From what she knew of Dragon lore the females were built every bit as strong and sturdy as the men. Other than hair color and the matching diamond patterns, she had nothing in common with Rowan’s Dragon.

  Aidan was out, for how long she didn’t know. Restless, she left the bedroom, dimming the lights on the way out.

  The door rattled and someone shoved the heavy metal forward. Rowan shot to the back of the room, instinctively putting the wall at her back. Two unfamiliar guards entered, this time followed by her father. The armed men took up menacing positions on either side of the bedroom entrance.

  William sat down on the couch, one arm draped casually on the back of the sofa, his legs crossed.

  “I’m a little disappointed, daughter; you aren’t pregnant with my grandchild yet.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “No matter, you’re fertile. It will happen. I’m afraid patience isn’t one of my virtues.”

  “Why are you so sure I can even get pregnant?” she asked, her voice small. For the first time in her life she was terrified of this man. Not because he was mad as a fucking hatter, she’d always known that. No, now he wanted to breed her. A child had never been even a remote possibility in the past. But now it was horrifically possible. What would happen if he actually succeeded in this unspeakable course of action?

  “Rowan, my dear, I’ve had you and your sisters tested. All three of you are very fertile. Of course now that Jenna has joined with a vampire, she is out of the baby-making business.” He gave her a shrewd look. “But that isn’t all you want to ask me, is it?”

  “Does she know? Does Erin know who she really is?”

  Her suspicions were confirmed when her father broke into a toothy grin. “Ah, you have seen your husband’s family mark?” William stood and walked to her. She tried desperately to keep from trembling, but failed. One of the guards had a gun trained at her head.

  “You know, I shot that son of a bitch myself when we captured Erin. He was a weakling then. Did you know that dragons don’t gain the ability to shift until they reach puberty?”

  Stone stood next to her and crowding her against the wall. He lifted up her hand and held it tight in his. “Of course you wouldn’t know that. You refused to study all the information about them when you were younger.” His hand tightened painfully on her fingers. “No, Erin has no clue who she really is.” His smile turned evil. “It would kill her, wouldn’t it?” He patted Rowan’s hand in a sick parody of affection. “It’s because of Erin that we were able to perfect the chip. We put one in just before puberty hit. It took several tries before we got it just right. We had to keep her sedated for months.”

  Rowan shook her head in denial. That was impossible. The only time Erin had ever been away from them was... She hissed as the memory broke through. “The year she spent at boarding school.”

  “Very good, dear. You were always my brightest one. The most stubborn and troublesome, but by far the brightest.” The approval in his eyes made her want to retch. “Yes, in her twelfth year we kept her asleep until we managed to implant the chip that completely stopped the change in her.” His eyes gleamed with a manic light. “I made her human.”

  She tried to pull her hand back. “You sick bastard. How could you to that to a child?”

  She should have expected it, but she didn’t see the blow coming. Her face swung violently to the left as her father’s fist connected with her cheek.

  “You and your sisters are mine to do with as I please,” William shouted, spittle spewing with the force of his words. “I keep you all alive at my convenience. You need to learn that, little girl.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Maybe a night in a cell will help you to remember that.”

  She snarled, “Bastard,” but she knew she didn’t have a chance of resisting. Still, when the guard grabbed her, she fought until the pin prick stabbed her arm.

  Chapter Seven

  Aidan rolled over on the bed. He had one hell of a headache, and he was sick and tired of waking up confused and in pain. He blindly reached out for Rowan. When his hand found nothing but empty sheets, he raised his head. She wasn’t there. He put his nose to the air and breathed. Her scent was too faint for her to still be in their cell. Panic set in. Oh God, had he hurt her? When she’d told him that Erin bore his family’s mark a red haze of rage had covered his eyes and he didn’t remember anything after hitting the concrete wall.

  His neck began to throb where she’d marked him earlier. She was still alive. If she’d been dead the mark would have gone cold and turned black in mourning. His body would know if his mate was truly gone.

  His hands ached and he winced as he tried to bend his bandaged knuckles. His ability to heal was stunted by the fact that he wasn’t able to change. He was healing only slightly faster than a human.

  Dammit, where the hell was Rowan? He knew she wasn’t a part of her father’s sick plan. When they’d made love, it was there. The deep-seated pain that haunted her every moment, so much like his own guilt over Fiona.

  Fiona. She was alive. She was here somewhere. They called her Erin, taught her to hate the night creatures, to be a zealot. Raised by William Stone, she didn’t remember her real family, didn’t remember Aidan.

  He was getting her away from this place. He would take her to their prince. Remy would know how to help her.

  He jumped up and began to prowl the rooms of their cell. Where the fuck was Rowan? What were they doing to his wife? William wouldn’t kill Rowan; he wanted a grandchild. Aidan knew she wasn’t pregnant yet. Her scent would have changed if she were.

  His feelings of helplessness were overwhelming. He had to do something to keep busy. Snagging a t-shirt, he moved back to the bed and strip
ped off his clothes. Turning his back to the camera, he unbraided his dark auburn hair and shook it out. The ends brushed the top of his ass; a mature Dragon male didn’t cut his hair, and Aidan’s hadn’t been cut since the day Fiona had been stolen. Shaking his head to scatter his grim thoughts, he tore a thin strip from the shirt. Grabbing a length of hair starting at his right temple, Aidan began weaving a small tight braid.

  It was his marriage braid, which should have been done the moments after he and Rowan connected. It was one of the oldest traditions of his people. In his culture, braids represented many things--a child coming into their Dragon form wore their hair in one long braid down their back. When mated, each wore a single braid on the right side to let everyone know they belonged to one another. When children were born, more braids were added, this time on the left side.

  He hummed as he tied off the tight braid with the torn cloth. When his Rowan returned he would do the same for her. Until then he continued to hum the songs of marriage passed down from parent to child.

  * * * *

  Rowan’s stomach rolled as the screams of some poor soul echoed off the walls. Her father’s minions had brought her one floor above where she’d been to the torture rooms. The smell of blood and fear permeated every ounce of space on this floor, the cries for mercy seeping into her skin. Blackness surrounded her, there was no light here. The endless dark only made the screams echo more loudly.

  Her back was aching, pressed against the cold concrete floor. Her wrists and ankles burned from the iron cuffs pinning her to the ground.

  She refused to look anywhere but up, before she panicked. She was claustrophobic and William had used that to his advantage more than once.

  Visions ran through her mind. Terrible images of twisted bodies, begging her to end their suffering. She was never able to strike the killing blow, and instead would sit with the victims, holding their hand, stroking bloody and broken faces. Trying her best to offer some comfort before their death. She told stupid stories, made up fairy tales until the life vanished from their eyes. She’d insisted on burying each and every one of them.

 

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