The Dragon Legion Collection 9

by Deborah Cooke

  She had trusted him from that first night, and even though he had disappointed her, Petra realized she still did trust Damien. He wasn’t the only one who had made a mistake, after all.

  She took his hand and placed it over her ripe belly. He was momentarily confused, then the baby kicked hard.

  “He’s alive!” Damien said with such delight that tears rose to Petra’s eyes. “Has he been doing this all along?”

  “No.” Petra shook her head. “No. The labor didn’t start, Damien, and he went still. He’d been kicking and kicking, but suddenly stopped.” Her breath caught. “I felt that he had turned to stone and I was afraid.”

  Damien drew her into his arms and held her tightly against his chest. Petra was alarmed to realize that he wasn’t as warm as he had been. “That’s why you took the ferry, even when the sea was rough.”

  “I had to go back to the Mothers.”

  “Where?”

  “The closest place to home for me.”

  Damien pressed a kiss into her hair and Petra felt her tears begin to fall. “I was so wrong, Petra. Please forgive me for not trusting you as I should have done.” He framed her face in his hands and kissed her tears away.

  “You’re not the only one who made a mistake,” Petra admitted quietly.

  “I don’t understand. You’ve done nothing wrong...”

  “I did. I invoked the Erinyes.”

  Damien looked down at the corpse again. “Just now?” He leaned down, nearly touching his nose to hers, his determined gaze boring into her own. “Why did you do it?”

  “You’re not condemning me?”

  “Not until I give you a chance to explain.” His grin made her heart skip a beat. “Second chances only work if you learn from your mistakes.”

  “It was after you left,” she admitted. “When I was on the ferry.”

  “When you knew it was going to sink.”

  “I was still angry. I thought everything was your fault.” She flicked a glance at Damien, surprised to find his expression thoughtful. “How could I know that carrying a child would make me want more?”

  Damien caught a tendril of her hair between his finger and thumb, then wound it around his finger. His smile was crooked. “You remember that I wasn’t exactly gone the next morning.”

  “No, you stayed three months. I thought that was your plan.”

  “No. One night was the plan, but you were a temptation that I couldn’t easily leave.”

  Petra once again hoped their thoughts were as one. “But you would still have followed Drake, even if we hadn’t argued, and you still would have been enchanted. You still wouldn’t have returned.”

  “Don’t believe that. The darkfire still would have been loosed, and I might have found you faster.” Damien was winding her hair more tightly around his finger, his body pressed against her own. He leaned down and touched a feather light kiss to her earlobe, one that weakened her knees and made her heart pound.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I believe in stories, especially the ones that end well.”

  Petra stole a glance at him and the resolve in his expression made her mouth go dry.

  “What if we start again?” he murmured, his breath a seductive caress. “What if I apologize for leaving you and you apologize for invoking the Erinyes?”

  “Then what?” Petra asked, her voice husky.

  Damien brushed a kiss across her lips, a fleeting touch that filled her with yearning. “Then we just have to figure out how to get out of here.”

  “Partners,” Petra breathed and Damien grinned.

  “If you’ll have me.”

  “If you’ll trust me,” she said quietly and his smile broadened.

  “I’ve learned from my mistake.” He kissed her then, sending a wonderful heat through her body and filling her with a new conviction. When he lifted his head, she was simmering and optimistic.

  Until her gaze fell on the dead monster.

  “We have to go to Hades and appeal to him for release.”

  Damien winced. “Even I know that never goes well in stories.”

  Petra shook her head and took Damien’s hand, trying to encourage him. “But no one in the stories ever had darkfire on their side.”

  Damien nodded, his expression thoughtful as he scanned the bleak terrain of Tartarus.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s no more darkfire.” He lifted their linked hands and Petra saw that there was no glimmer of blue-green light between their hands. She looked but couldn’t see a single spark, even though it had haunted her since Damien’s arrival.

  Had the darkfire abandoned them here?

  “It’s leaving us to our own resources,” she guessed.

  Damien nodded and squeezed her hand. “Fortunately, we have plenty.”

  His optimism was undeserved, though, at least in Petra’s opinion. She could see that her dragon warrior was fading and feared that he might be the sacrifice that was required.

  Not if she had anything to say about it.

  “He is supposed to hold court on the other side of Tartarus,” Petra said, refusing to believe that everything could be lost. Damien nodded and tightened his grip on her hand, setting a quick pace in the direction she indicated.

  * * *

  “You have to be joking.” Damien folded his arms across his chest and glared at the dark ribbon of water. Its surface was moving in a way that he distrusted. They had walked for ages, even though there was no good measurement of time in this place. He was tired and his stomach was so empty, it felt hollow. He was having a hard time keeping his thoughts focused and now this. “We have to cross the river without a ferry?”

  “I don’t see a ferry,” Petra said mildly. “I’ve never heard of there being one on the River Leche. If you want to appeal to Hades, we have to cross it.”

  “We have to go deeper into the underworld.”

  “Until we reach its heart.”

  Petra moved toward the water with a confidence Damien couldn’t echo. He watched the water and realized its surface was covered with dark creatures. “Snakes,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Well, I told you. They make sense here,” Petra continued calmly. “We’re in the underworld, deep in the earth, which is where snakes are supposed to live. In stories, they symbolize lost secrets and forbidden desires.” She gave him a smile that reminded him of all his desires for her.

  “I hate snakes.”

  “Maybe you’ll conquer your fear.”

  “It’s not fear...”

  “They’re said to only attack in self-defense. Don’t hurt them and they won’t hurt you.”

  “That’s only a rumor.”

  She didn’t answer him, just smiled then walked to the bank.

  Damien shifted his weight from foot to foot, the sight of those black snakes making him sweat. There had to be thousands of them, maybe millions of them, writhing over each other in a kind of frenzy. The idea of being surrounded by them, of having them touch his skin, was enough to make him feel sick. “It’s fine for you to take such a chance. You’re dead already.”

  She cast him an amused glance. “Such a bold dragon,” she said under her breath, her gaze taunting him.

  Damien was on the cusp of arguing that he wasn’t a dragon any more, or at least not in this place, but she wasn’t really talking about his shifting powers. “Can’t you cause an earthquake and make the seas part?”

  “It wouldn’t necessarily get rid of the snakes.”

  “I say it’s worth a try.”

  “I’m saving my strength,” she said, and he heard that she was tired. He saw her hand cup her ripe belly again and wondered if she felt the baby’s time was coming. “They’re just snakes, Damien.”

  He marched down to the river to stand beside Petra, deeply uneasy about the whole exercise. “It would be a lot easier if I could still shift shape,” he noted. “We could just fly over the river.”

  “Which might be the point. Thi
s might be a test of your determination.”

  He gave her a sizzling glance. “I’m determined enough.”

  “We’ll soon find out. This river isn’t supposed to be very deep.”

  Even the possibility of snakes up to his waist made Damien shudder. “Does anybody know for sure?”

  “No one who’s telling.”

  He exhaled and tried to find his courage. It also would have been much easier without the sight of all those sinuous bodies entwining and tangling, glistening wet, and much easier if he’d been feeling his usual self. “Doesn’t this river have some kind of power?”

  “You’re stalling,” Petra teased with a laugh.

  “I’m gathering information to make the best choice,” Damien retorted and she laughed again. He couldn’t help but smile that she knew him so well.

  “The Leche is called the river of oblivion, which is a tempting prospect in a way.”

  Damien was surprised. “What could you want to forget?”

  “You broke my heart, Damien,” she said softly. “And forgetting that ache would make any situation easier to bear.”

  He caught her hand in his, wanting to make this right while he could. He had absolutely no confidence that he could pass through this river unscathed, and this one thing, he had to set straight with Petra while he could. He turned her hand in his, trying to find a way to explain. “I thought I was supposed to take care of you.”

  “I thought you were the one man who could accept me for what I was.”

  Damien nodded, knowing he should have done better. “I’ve been with others of my kind while I’ve been gone,” he said. “These other Pyr have an idea that their mates are more than the mothers of their sons.”

  “I like them already.”

  “They think of their mates as their partners, and in fact, they believe that making a permanent bond with their mate makes them stronger.”

  “The whole is greater than the sum of its individual parts?”

  “Exactly.” Damien nodded. “I know I disappointed you, Petra, and I know I was wrong, but I’ll take that chance you offered.”

  She considered him. “I thought you came just for your son.”

  He smiled at her. “I thought so, too, but seeing you again has made me realize how empty my life has been without you. Come with me, Petra. Be partners with me.”

  She averted her gaze, her throat working. “It’s not up to me. We have to appeal to Hades, but you have to know that he never lets anyone leave.”

  “I won’t believe it. The darkfire has to be making the impossible possible. I have to believe that if you decide to be with me, then we will be able to leave.”

  She considered him for a long moment. “You won’t abandon me again?”

  “Never.”

  Petra studied him for a long moment. She squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek, then turned and walked into the dark water. The water stained the hem of her tunic first, making the fabric look dark. She walked steadily into the water, showing a bravery Damien wished he felt, especially when the first of the snakes wound around her legs. He shuddered and couldn’t bear to watch, but couldn’t turn away either.

  As Petra continued to wade deeper, the snakes merely slipped around her body. They seemed to create a path for her and carry on with their own business, untroubled by her presence. It looked as if the water was only as deep as her hips.

  “I wish I were an Earthdaughter,” Damien muttered.

  Petra laughed. “You aren’t. Hurry up.”

  He clenched his fists and tried to control his breathing. He eyed the distance to the far shore and tried to estimate the number of steps. He wished he hadn’t lost his shifting powers. He wished the river wasn’t full of snakes. He wished he didn’t have to cross it to ask Hades to make an exception. He wished he wasn’t so terrified.

  But Damien had to follow Petra. He forced himself to take a step closer to the water, and then another. He took a trio of deep breaths, told himself he could do it, and took a step into the dark water. The first snake wound over the top of his boot, sinuous and revolting.

  But it continued on its way. Damien felt cold sweat slide down his back as he took another step. The water was over the top of his boots in three steps, cold and slimy enough to make him shudder as it ran over his feet. He wouldn’t think about snakes slithering in there with it, wouldn’t think of how many of them there were, wouldn’t think about the way it was hard to push his legs through the barricade of their bodies. He shivered, feeling chilled to the bone.

  He kept his thoughts on his goal. He lifted his gaze to Petra and the far shore.

  He looked up just in time to see her slip.

  She cried out as she fell and he guessed that she had lost her balance because of the baby.

  Then she disappeared under the water.

  “No!” Damien shouted Petra’s name in dismay. She didn’t answer, and she didn’t surface. He tried again to shift shape, but it still didn’t work.

  All the while, he was striding further into the river, wanting only to reach her. She couldn’t drown, not in this place. He couldn’t lose her again.

  He flung aside snakes, clearing his path with his hands and fighting his disgust. The only thing that mattered was Petra. Damien targeted the spot where he was sure he’d seen her go under. It was taking too long to reach her, he feared, and he would find her when it was too late.

  He barely noticed the slight pain on his chest, and he certainly didn’t see the dark green dragon scale slip from beneath the hem of his shirt, slide over the bodies of the snakes, then disappear as it was submerged in the River Leche.

  Forgotten.

  He didn’t know if Petra could die again, but he did now that if he lost her in this river, he’d lose her for all time.

  Nothing could keep him from giving his all to prevent that, even millions of snakes.

  * * *

  Petra was drowning all over again. She felt that first dismay like a sharp pang, reliving the moment when they’d realized the vessel was in danger. She saw the dark water gathering on the bottom of the boat, and knew it was coming in too fast. She looked, as she had that fateful day, and noted how far it was to shore. In a heartbeat, she knew they could never reach safety before the boat sank.

  She fell to her knees, helping to bail the bottom of the boat, shaking with the certainty that all efforts were futile. The wind whipped at the sails, spinning the boat like a toy. The women on board wept. Petra could only feel the weight of her unborn child, and the burden of her failure.

  The water was up to her knees in no time, dark and so cold that she soon couldn’t feel her feet. She wished her gift had been associated with water or with air, but this was one place her link with the earth could do no good.

  She felt powerless for the first time in her life, and despair washed over her.

  She cried out to the Erinyes to avenge her on the father of her child.

  Then the boat sank with startling speed. Petra was terrified when the water touched her belly and she heard herself scream when the boat dropped from beneath her feet. She was plunged into the cold sea, struggling to reach the surface. She wasn’t a swimmer and never had been, but her instinct to survive was strong.

  She reached the surface and took a single breath before an angry wave crashed over her. She was driven down into the depths again, as if Poseidon himself was determined to claim her forever. Petra fought her way upward again, losing her direction as the sea churned around her. She was alone and wondered what had become of the other people on the boat.

  This time, she had a chance to look when she broke the surface. All she could see was churning water in every direction. She shouted, but the wind snatched away her voice. She thought she could hear cries for help, but couldn’t guess the direction.

  She couldn’t even see land anymore. The sea rose and fell, swirling around her and tugging her down. Petra panicked, then saw a piece of the boat not far away. The wood was smashed but floating. She
fought to approach it, then the sea lifted it on a wave. She had a moment to think that providence was on her side, that the water was bringing her the piece of wood and she’d be able to survive. Then the wave crashed over her and the wood slammed into her temple.

  Then there was only darkness on all sides.

  Darkness and oblivion.

  Petra sank, knowing there’d be no reprieve for her now.

  * * *

  Damien’s knees weakened when he reached into the snakes and felt the curve of Petra’s hip. He plunged his hands in so that he was up to his shoulders in cold water and slithering snakes.

  Petra was there. He grabbed her and hauled her to the surface, clearing the muck of the river and a few smaller snakes from her face. He couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not and didn’t intend to linger in the river to find out.

  Her expression was peaceful, her features so tranquil that he feared the worst.

  He strode to the shore that had been their destination, relieved to find the ground rise up quickly beneath his boots. He laid Petra on the dry bank, even as rivulets of water ran from her clothes. Her lashes fluttered slightly, but he saw that the color that had bloomed in her cheeks after his kiss had faded again. Her pallor and the chill of her hands terrified him.

  He found himself whispering her name, as if his voice alone could rouse her or repeating her name could reassure him. He ran one fingertip across her cool lips before he realized the same strategy might work again. He bent and touched his lips to hers, hoping against hope that she would revive beneath his touch.

  To his relief, darkfire burned and shimmered between them, touching Petra’s features with its ethereal glow, filling Damien’s body with heat. He could only hope that his kiss passed it to Petra. He kissed her again and again, hoping the spark would light to a flame, that the power of his kind could save the woman he loved.

  He loved Petra, and he’d never told her so.

  Damien only hoped he hadn’t realized the truth too late.

  When Petra lifted one hand to his shoulder and parted her lips beneath his own, Damien’s hope surged. He caught her close and deepened his kiss, pouring all he felt for her into his touch, telling her with his embrace what he’d never told her in words. Petra clung to him, her arms wrapping around him to hold him close, her kiss meeting him measure for measure. He saw the darkfire brighten between then and heat to a brilliant white glow, a hot white light that wouldn’t soon be extinguished. When he lifted his head and reluctantly broke his kiss, she was flushed and rosy again.