Heart of the Dragon (Dragons of the Realms Book 1)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Coming Soon…
Heart of the Dragon
Dragons of the Realms
Kym Dillon
Lovestruck Romance
Copyright © 2017 by Lovestruck Romance.
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
This book is intended for adult readers only.
Any sexual activity portrayed in these pages occurs between consenting adults over the age of 18 who are not related by blood.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Coming Soon…
1
A tidy row of cologne bottles slammed together and crashed to the floor as Daya swept an arm across the dresser in search of a weapon. Anything would do. The silver cufflinks. The cellphone charging on the surface. Both, tacit reminders this was not her house. (If it were, there would be something useful like a throwing knife.) She brandished the phone as a shield.
“Marco, please! You’re causing a scene,” she whisper-screamed, darting to the other side of the room. The sideways scuttle was scored by a live orchestra playing sedately below. Daya’s cyanide blue eyes widened as her lover came at her with an empty champagne bottle. Though she supposed he was her de facto ex now that he was trying to kill her.
“Don’t ‘Marco, please,’ me!” he choked out. “I don’t care who hears! Everyone already knows it was you, and the cops are on their way!”
“The cops?! For what?”
“Because you stole my grandmother’s heirloom necklace!”
“You’ve had one too many drinks, darling. Don’t embarrass yourself over a simple misunder—” Daya parried another wild flail of his arm, and her evening gown gave a loud rip. She gasped as they watched the slit race higher up her thigh. “Look what you made me do!”
He shrugged, dropping the bottle. “You have to admit, it’s an improvement.”
She parked her hands on her hips, voluptuous breasts heaving. Enough was enough. “We can talk like sensible adults, but leave the Vera out of this,” she chided.
The handsome rogue grabbed her by the garment and lifted her off the floor. He gave her a little shake, and her dangling feet kicked air. Well, this is ridiculous, she thought. He was sloshed to the gills. The odds were against talking sense into him.
“Oh, for God’s sake! The dress is a rental!”
“I’m sure you were planning on keeping it anyway,” he sneered. “Now, what am I misunderstanding about rare, priceless jewelry going missing on your watch, gold-digger?”
“Be reasonable. There’s a parlor full of people bidding on items in the estate sale. Any one of them could’ve lifted it. I’m sure the authorities will search. Don’t you have any faith in me?”
Marco grunted in the negative. “I know exactly who you are, bella. I tried to make myself believe your years of crime were behind you. But, there’s a saying: No honor amongst thieves.”
“You would know.” Daya dropped her innocent act. She used his grip to tear out of the dress. Underneath was a bodysuit. Tossing a cascade of dark curls over her pale shoulder, she smoothed a hand over the shaper. “There, that’s better,” she sighed. “And, you should also know the other saying, darling. It goes, ‘Finders, keepers.’”
Marco blinked in disbelief when she held up the million-dollar necklace. She shoved it in her bodice and quickly pulled out gloves. Wriggling her fingers into them, she opened the window with a gleeful smirk.
“You wouldn’t dare!” he said.
She scrambled out to prove she would, indeed, dare. There was already a hook jammed into the sill for just such a daring caper. She braced her designer shoes against the steeply gabled roof to lower herself the three flights to the ground.
Rappelling several feet, she called out, “Give my regards to your boss with the mafia. Or, should I say dear old grandmother?” Her smug grin morphed into a surprised O as she slid farther than expected.
Suddenly, the hook became unmoored, and Daya shrieked. She heard Marco laughing somewhere above her as she clawed at the shingles. A dainty high-heel skittered to the ground. When she looked up, he had disappeared from the window.
“Shit!” she swore. Casting a glance to one side, she squinted at flashing lights entering the gates and repeated the expletive with more force. She thought he had been bluffing about calling the cops. Desperate times, she mused, when a hitman gets the law involved.
Nothing had gone according to plan. Six months wasted dating the gullible gun-for-hire Marco Bernie to get closer to the jaw-dropping Blausäure sapphire! She had a buyer lined up. Unfortunately, when the mafia fell on hard times, they really fell. They were liquidating their assets.
The semi-respectable private auction would have whisked the gemstone God knew where if Daya hadn’t stolen it. Now, she was hanging thirty feet above an exquisite stonework courtyard. Really, the garden was quite beautiful, from what she could see when her head wasn’t swimming with dizziness from looking down.
“This is perfect,” she huffed. She couldn’t wait to have to never do anything like this again. Twenty-seven was a suitable age for retirement from a life of crime, right? If she made it out alive.
A voice from behind startled her. “I can get you out of here, but you must come with me.”
Daya almost lost her grip because a voice from behind was quite literally impossible. Her black hair swished around her face as she tried to look. Her lips parted in shock when she saw the wizened old man in grey robes standing on thin air.
“All you have to do is trust me and let go,” he smiled.
She had no choice. The world faded as she passed out and lost her grip.
When Daya opened her eyes, she was passing through what looked like a market. A busy street lined with merchant stalls. High noon. The sun was ungodly bright. She was surrounded by people, and the din of voices, the pungent smells of spices and body odor—everything—jarred her senses. There was something utterly disorienting about waking mid-step.
“You’ll feel tired and achy. It’s to be expected,” a
man murmured. “We’ve been traveling a while, but the Between creates a sort of twilight sleep. It’s hard to guess how long you’re in there.”
“Huh?” Daya grunted in a daze.
She felt like she had been roofied. A panicked look down revealed someone had dressed her in a loose, gauzy dress that draped her svelte figure. She sighed in relief. She wasn’t in one of those ‘naked in public’ dreams but, then again, she wasn’t dreaming, was she?
Daya’s eyebrows hooked in a frown as she gingerly touched her head for injuries. No damage, there. Her hair was piled in a messy bun, and her feet were in sandals that felt made for her, just like the dress. It was wrong on so many levels. She gasped and patted herself for her cellphone. It was missing, naturally.
“What in the entire fuck?” she blurted out.
The bald man who had rescued her looked like a priest. She apologized for cussing, and he flashed a wry grin. “It’s quite alright,” he chuckled. “What passes for swears in your realm—how do you say— doesn’t have ‘shit’ on the colorful expletives here.”
Daya was vividly aware she wasn’t in Kansas anymore. “And, where the bloody hell is here, exactly?” she asked.
“Bloody hell? Creative. For an American. No, you’re not only not in Kansas, you’re not exactly on your version of Earth anymore. I’m Neigen, by the way.”
“Oh, thanks for the tour update, Neigen,” she said with sarcasm. “Nice to…Wait. Did you just read my mind?”
“My apologies. It’s a holdover from my job, you see. I’ve read minds for the high priestess for centuries. It has its perks. Unfortunately, it also has its limitations. I can’t read hers.” A troubled look flitted across his face.
“Uh-huh.” Daya quirked her lips to the side and tried to figure out what was going on. She was too self-aware to be in a dream. This felt like a movie. Only, in movies, the extras didn’t gawk. She hugged herself as passers-by shot wary glances her way. Also, her supporting character was either bonkers or the best method actor ever.
He clutched her elbow and steered her from the flow of foot-traffic down a quiet alley shaded by sandstone buildings. Another bout of panic flared as she stumbled along the empty path. The sun was filtered by crimson banners that flapped overhead. Isolated, dark place? Rape or murder could be imminent. She had a height advantage over her rather ancient captor, but one couldn’t be too careful.
Daya threw up her hands defensively. “Where are you taking me? If you try anything crazy, I will scream like nobody’s business. I have the lungs of a harpy. They’ll hear me way in the parking lot of this…Renaissance festival.” Maybe. Yeah. Had to be.
“Really, Daya? I did a favor for you.” Neigen consulted a gold timepiece. “Walk faster. I saved your life, and now I need you to save mine.”
“Like how?” She dug in her heels.
“I’m not sure,” he flashed a grandfatherly smile. “But, if I don’t get you to the Temple of the Fire, I’m done for. Now, come along. It’s just up ahead. Once there, I’ll explain what I can. Oh, but, I suppose I should warn you first. In their natural form, the dragon eaters are fearsome to look at. Ghastly creatures. However, the Mistress won’t hurt you. Yet. Hopefully.”
“Yet? Hopefully?” Daya pivoted away with a hysterical laugh. “Dragon eaters. Right. I fell. I’m dead! I’m dead, and this is my fucked-up version of the afterlife.”
Neigen heaved a flustered sigh and tugged her in step again. “We simply don’t have time for any breakdowns. Ordinarily, I’d introduce a person to the concept of Realm Travel in increments. An orientation, if you will. It’s just—You don’t want to keep Feis waiting.”
Daya shrieked in surprise when he shoved her through a door she hadn’t seen until the last minute. The dimly lit alley was at once replaced by smoke-laden darkness. Coughing from the incense, she tripped over the folds of her dress and almost fell, but Neigen steadied her.
“Watch your step. She wants you intact,” he hissed.
“What is this place?”
“Really, no time to explain.”
As she hurried after the anxious priest, her eyes adjusted, and she surveyed her surroundings. In recessed alcoves lining the darkened walls, she saw gold relics that reflected faint candlelight. Hundreds of candles worked to abate the shadows, but the place was cavernous. Archways reached cathedral ceilings. Neat rows of pews and a lengthy aisle led to a raised dais. Definitely a church.
A Gothic monstrosity of a dragon statue snaked around a slender white crystal that rose above an altar, and kneeling before the gleaming beast was a woman. She was in the same flowy, gauzy dress as others Daya had seen in this place. But, this woman had a towering gold crown shaped like dancing flames, advertising her station. She was a Ruler.
“You’re behind schedule.” Her voice was liquid fire—a hushed crackle—as she gracefully stood.
At the sound of it, Daya flinched and almost stopped following Neigen to the altar. The high priestess was half her height and twice as intimidating. Daya wanted to bolt, but Neigen bowed low to the floor at the woman’s feet.
“I am sorry, Mistress. It couldn’t be helped. The human was indisposed when I arrived in her realm.”
“That’s an understatement,” Daya mumbled, but her irreverent snort became a strangled whimper when the “Mistress” turned her way. “Jesus H. Christ.”
“No, Feis of the Fire.” The woman smiled.
She had skin the same burnished gold as her headdress, and it sure as hell didn’t look like paint. Her eyes were like flames. Hair the color of orange-red embers fell to her waist, framing truly lovely facial features. But, her teeth…Her teeth were jagged ivory spires, and her shapely mouth barely concealed them. This was a dragon eater?
Retreating a step, Daya glanced at Neigen, but he was still kissing the temple floor. No help at all. If she was dreaming, she was ready to wake up now. None of this could be real.
“And, you are Oedaya of the Blue Sky Realm,” Feis whispered.
“Just Daya Krane, thank you. N-no one calls me Oedaya but my grandfather,” she stammered. “I’m-I’m sorry, how do you know me?”
“Oh, don’t be frightened. You’ll have to excuse my appearance. I haven’t eaten,” the woman said casually, waving in the general direction of her face and...teeth.
Daya gulped. “Yeah, being hangry does that to me, too.”
“You’re not what I expected, but what a pleasure,” Feis purred. “I’ve searched the four realms for someone with your unique capabilities. A woman, born with the Moon trine Neptune, with a predilection for taking things that do not belong to her.”
“Excuse me?” Daya tremulously straightened her shoulders. “I mean, with all due respect, I think you have the wrong girl. Moon trying Neptune doesn’t sound anything like me. I guess, you know, for this place, it’s a common mistake. You can just, uh, let me go home now. No harm, no foul.”
Feis closed the distance between them, and Daya’s nose twitched. The woman exuded a musky aroma. Like the dregs of rose water scorching in a kettle. She coiled a lock of Daya’s hair around her forefinger. “I never make mistakes, Oedaya.” She tugged until it hurt. Badly. Then, she let the dark curl go and patted Daya’s shoulder. “I know you’re a thief and that no one matches your ability to procure things.”
“Maybe in the past, but, um, I’m reformed. Born again. Baptized in holy water.” Daya released a nervous, high-pitched giggle. She clapped a hand over her mouth as Feis smirked and moved away. “I’m sorry. I get goofy when I’m scared.”
“What you people do with religion is sinful. But, you know—holy water—that can be arranged.” She snapped her fingers, and a book materialized in the air. “I brought you here to retrieve something for me, and you can’t leave until I have it in my hands.”
Neigen gasped when the book flipped open. “The Heart of the Dragon Lord.”
“A red diamond!” Daya exclaimed at the same time. “That’s one of the rarest gems on the planet! I’ve never even seen
one in person.” The thief in her tingled with anticipation, drawing her to the illustration with wanton greed. She thought of every jewel she had ever stolen. This was her unicorn.
Feis tilted her head. “It’s nearby. In a mountainous keep none from my realm can enter.”
“That sounds pretty sketchy,” Daya admitted.
Neigen laboriously straightened his posture and fixed Daya with a stare that reminded her of the stern nuns from her Catholic school days. “It is sketchy. You live in a world where magic is an illusion,” he said solemnly. “This is not that world.”
“Oh, don’t chaperone her, Neigen. She’s an adult.” Feis circled her, but Daya couldn’t take her eyes off the scarlet diamond. She mentally calculated how much the jewel would be worth to the obviously rich and powerful high priestess—assuming she believed this whole other realm business. Enough to retire?
“A powerful spell prevents me from doing this for myself,” the woman continued, “but I can tell you how to get in and, most importantly, out with the Heart of the Dragon. No police. No cameras. No silly catsuits.”
Daya’s gaze narrowed shrewdly. “I like a challenge, but I’ll need more than my walking papers when this is done. I want hazard pay. You know, the kind of money that’ll keep me set for life.”
“You can’t be so naïve. Oedaya, she’s trying to—Ack!” Neigen choked. Feis spread her fingers, and the priest doubled over in pain. His anguished outcry pierced the pious silence. Daya instinctively threw her body in front of him. She didn’t bother questioning reality.
“Don’t hurt him!” she yelled.
Feis dropped her hand and said sweetly, “You needlessly torment her, Neigen. She doesn’t want to see you like this.”