Lydia and the Draca

by Louisa Kelley

  Eremon sat rigid beside her. Did he think about kissing her? Did he remember? She itched and squirmed and squeezed her legs together, but little helped the pulses of arousal. What next what next what next?

  “I have called the Council of Elders together for a vote on how to proceed.”

  Nareen’s voice caused a visible stir. She gestured toward Lydia and to the gathered group and then stopped speaking English. Her voice rang out in a kind of silvery lilt, seductive and alien. Like alien French, Lydia thought again. And whatever she was saying, it was causing quite a stir.

  All eyes darted from Lydia to Eremon and Aedhan.

  Aedhan slumped in his chair, and looks of sly amusement played over his face. Eremon continued his scowling. He still refused to look at her, his long fingers tapping out an impatient rhythm on the tabletop.

  Finally some sort of decision seemed to be made, and Nareen resumed speaking in English.

  “Lydia, my brother Eremon has stated that he will not join us in our great task; therefore we are forced to change our plans. We are bound to follow the thread of the gods, no matter what he may think. A great hope and powerful working have brought you to us”—and here Nareen turned a pointed look on Eremon—“and my stubborn Draca brother refuses to acknowledge what is in front of his eyes.”

  What? What’s in front of his eyes? Lydia darted a look at Eremon. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his hands had knotted into fists.

  The whole group rose to its feet without any visible signal that Lydia could see. She jumped up with them. Something had changed—the air fairly crackled with things unsaid.

  Eremon edged closer, not quite touching her but close enough she could smell him. And oh, what a smell. All smoky and earthy and yummy. He and his brother both. Utterly delicious.

  Purely so she didn’t jump on him, she backed away, right into Aedhan. He put his steadying hand on Lydia’s shoulder, and Eremon issued a low growling noise.

  Aedhan grinned but let the hand drop.

  Nareen continued to address the standing group. “Following the great threads of the gods, I wove together enough power to find this very special human. Until she arrived, I had no way of knowing if I was right in my actions.”

  She paused, as if for questions. When there were none, she directed her comments directly to Lydia: “What I suspected in the beginning is true. You have in your blood a powerful strain of old Draca. For humans to access the power of such blood, and keep it alive at all—and it is very, very rare—requires an…awakening. We think, we believe, the Draca DNA in your blood has begun to do just that, which is the only reason we were able to find you. I am sure you have noticed certain…enhancements, even in the human world?”

  Lydia nodded mutely. Yeah, right. Enhancements.

  “The powers stirred to life in your blood wait for the correct signals to fully manifest. I believe I have rediscovered forgotten ancient rituals that have the potential to feed the dying life force of our people. We need your most blessed and noble permission to enact some of those rituals.”

  Rituals?

  Nareen stopped, her eyebrows raised. “Do you understand so far?”

  Lydia nodded again, still at a loss for words.

  “It is so…difficult to explain this,” Nareen went on. “I apologize for not being more, ah—how do you humans put it—more up front. We had thought it better to show you the truth of us in small parts, rather than everything all at once. We found that when we rushed things, we frightened you away.”

  Nareen’s lips turned up a little.

  Lydia narrowed her eyes. “It wasn’t too funny when it was happening, as I recall.” Nareen inclined her head in acknowledgment. “We understand this now,” she said. “And I beg for your forgiveness. You cannot know how our dreams are full of our pain and our days are spent trying to forget what has brought us to this tragic time. In all of this, I fear our usual wisdom has been somewhat lacking.” She gestured toward the Draca women, who were listening closely.

  “The sadness of our females has sunk so deep into their souls, it is in their very genes, until even the unborn feel our anguish and hide even more deeply from us. It has become intolerablefor everyone, and I have taken it upon myself to use the powers of the gods to find our way out of this. Out of what has, until now, appeared to be the inevitable extinction of our species.” She shot a determined look in Eremon’s direction. “Despite what went wrong in the past…we must never allow ourselves to give up.”

  Midway down the table, Camus’s head barely reached the surface. Only his round, worried eyes could be seen, darting anxious looks between her and Eremon.

  Eremon watched in growing agitation as his brother Aedhan, following Nareen’s soft orders, took the luscious human female by the hand and led her past the line of his gawking kin. Aedhan put his arm around her shoulder, as if to guide her, and it was all Eremon could do not to rush forward and push his brother away.

  Lydia and Aedhan reached the far wall, a jet-black obsidian surface spanning the entire back end of the cavern. Deeply etched carvings covered its surface, a mass of intricate designs surrounding the jeweled center masterpiece. Gleaming with crimson light, a faceted garnet stone regarded the assemblage like a giant bloodred eye. Consciousness shone dully from the enormous stone.

  Nareen indicated that they should face the mysterious gem.

  “This priceless jewel holds within it much of the powers belonging to the Garnet Clan of the Draca. It is one of the reasons we can live as we do, in a separate protected world. Great wisdom also dwells deep in its heart. It can know the truth of a person, the true heart and blood and dreams of those it so chooses. And in ways we have never understood how to control, it can trigger certain powers when provided with the right…chemistry.”

  Eremon gritted his teeth. It was his own godsforsaken fault. All of it—he had given her away, and now his brother would be the First. Nareen had insisted the threads of the spell had woven his name. But he could not accept this travesty. What would be the price to be paid this time for Nareen’s meddling in the fates? Too high, he was sure of it. He had already paid the highest price of all, the senseless loss of his mate and his child. All because of Nareen’s unrepentant spell casting. She recklessly continued to disregard the possible consequences of her actions. Better to let the Draca fade gracefully into the depths of history than suffer the living hell that consumed his days.

  Yet a slow rage simmered that had nothing to do with his ongoing disagreements with his sister.

  “We ask that you allow the stone to know you,” Nareen said.

  Eremon’s chest contracted when Nareen gestured Lydia closer to the jewel. Mine, the unbidden thought shouted in his head. Yes, his predator answered. Yes, and powered his momentum across the room.

  As soon as he got close enough, he shoved Aedhan roughly away from Lydia.

  Aedhan stumbled aside without protest, looking unsurprised. “Took you long enough, Brother.” He gave a small bow. “She awaits you.”

  Lydia took a step back. Eremon glared at her, yet there was more than anger in his look. Possession. A thrill jolted up Lydia’s core, and her mouth opened in shock. He faced her and held out his hands.

  Lydia couldn’t look away from his burning gaze. Her breath quickened as she laid her palms in his huge ones. She could feel his pulse through her skin; his heart was beating as hard as hers.

  “Hurry,” Eremon said. “We must hurry.” And he urged them closer to the massive garnet.

  Nareen, who had been standing with her arms crossed, arched her brows. “First you refuse to have anything to do with it; now you want to rush. Hold, Eremon, you should not do this when you are still angry.”

  “I am not angry. Aedhan is right. We should test the stone, and then we will know if we go forward.”

  Lydia locked her eyes onto the gleaming jewel. It would know her heart? How?

  Eremon squeezed Lydia’s hands, his eyes no longer cold. Instead she saw something else—a hypn
otic flash of predator gold, of hot desert sand…heat that started in her chest and pooled between her legs.

  Lydia could have sworn she felt the stone reach for her, causing an even-greater erotic eruption of her body buzz. As if someone besides her had control of the sensory dial, arousal crawled over her nerve endings.

  Eremon maneuvered them to the dead center of the stone and, with a rapid movement, thrust his and Lydia’s hands flat to the hard surface.

  Instantly, a flash of fierce sexual hunger ripped up and down Lydia’s spine and planted itself in every erogenous zone she had. Her head fell back, overwhelmed by the erotic zaps lighting up her nipples, her sex. She wanted to howl.

  Eremon threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. She shot a glance behind her, looking for Nareen, and saw rose-colored mist filling the cavern. It danced out of the Garnet, falling like a barely visible red net, caressing the heads and shoulders of the assemblage.

  No longer able to hold back, and with all her attention riveted to the jewel, she opened fully to the erotic hunger ripping up her spine.

  Her nipples scraped against the cool stone, and Eremon’s body, pressed against her side, burned everywhere it touched. Their conjoined hands started to slide with sweat against the stone, and Eremon grunted and pressed harder, keeping them in place. Doors in her consciousness blew open; light surged in, and she clung to the jewel, metaphysically glued in place.

  She saw skies—like another waking vision. Flying creatures soaring. Mountains and soft clouds overhead…

  Strong hands pulled her, with a sucking noise, away from the garnet. Eremon yanked her around and crushed her to his wide, muscular chest. His mouth found hers, and she opened with a moan and let him in. His mouth, on hers, at last.

  Excited voices in the background seemed to be causing quite a stir, but she didn’t care. Eremon kissed her, his tongue thrusting deep. His hands found her breasts and hardened nipples, and he squeezed the aching nubs. The noises in the background grew louder.

  Held prisoner by the flood of sensations, something else started to intrude. A different emotion hovered at the edges, a yearning, tinged with…sadness?

  Eremon pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers, breathing hard. He felt it too. Lydia clutched him, rocked with emotion. What was this?

  What was this pain—this strange yearning? Some of the beautiful faces watching her were openly weeping.

  She had done this. Or at least contributed to it, the powers in the garnet, she and Eremon. Something had been triggered. She caught sight of Nareen, who looked satisfied and sad at the same time.

  Eremon took her face between his hands and kissed her again, his lips a slow burn as he brushed them almost tenderly across her trembling mouth. “I know,” he murmured. “I know of this pain.”

  New, unfamiliar feelings settled in Lydia’s heart. Her very blood was responding to the unspoken longings of the Draca. She didn’t understand everything under the surface, all the powers and magics and schemes about saving a dying race, still didn’t get how it involved her.

  “What do we do now?” she whispered into Eremon’s hair. His arms held her close.

  “Patience.”

  Sure enough, the tension around her lessened as if a dam had broken. Something had shifted, but she wasn’t sure what.

  “You see, Brother?” Aedhan called out from the other side of the room. “Do you finally see what has been in front of you all along? She is perfect. When was the last time you felt anything like that?”

  They turned around, and the room erupted in scattered cheers. Eremon went stiff, growling at his brother. Lydia glanced at him with a small thrill at his possessive manner. Yeah, this was more like it.

  “It was Eremon who needed the proof, damn his stubborn, scaled hide,” Aedhan said, without the slightest hint of repentance. “I merely helped things along. No one else cared, Brother. We wanted Lydia to get on with it; no one needed this kind of evidence besides you. The chosen one,” he added on a sarcastic note.

  “Enough!” Nareen’s voice rang out. “Enough of that.”

  There was instant silence. A few coughs and throat clearings and grins continued for a few minutes, until Nareen pounded her hand on the table and had everyone’s complete attention. She gestured them back to their seats, and once the room had somewhat settled, she addressed Lydia.

  “You have done very well, human Daughter. There is nothing to be alarmed about in your responses. Or Eremon’s.” Nareen glanced in amusement at the brothers. “We have all seen the truth of it—and we have shared your wonderful intimate responses in ways we have sorely missed.” Nareen’s gaze locked onto Lydia’s. “And so, if you are agreeable, the gods would smile on the continuing test of this theory.”

  Still zingy from all the confusing emotion, Lydia nodded.

  “I was sure, but my kin, especially Eremon, needed to see more. To see that you are the special human we thought you to be. A human Daughter of Draca.”

  The words rang out like an announcement of great import. More cheers sounded, and Eremon’s grip on Lydia’s shoulder tightened.

  “Everything we have seen and felt tonight illumines this basic truth. The DNA of Draca in your blood is from our oldest, most potent line. It is known to carry healing…life-force healing. As you open your body and spirit to the depth of your own sexual nature, your Draca blood becomes more alive. In a way, it is born. Or the potential for it to be born becomes more possible. Can you understand?”

  Lydia’s brain turned furiously. Her newly awakened sexual nature was part of her Draca heritage? Pieces of the puzzle started falling into place.

  Eremon stood. “No, Lydia does not understand this.”

  “We have all heard what you have to say on the matter, Brother.” Nareen gestured to the avid Draca men and women around her. “If you are going to change your mind again, there are eleven others who are willing to take your place.”

  Eremon turned away from the council table with a frustrated snarl. “Very well, Sister.” He bowed low, apparently willing to accede to their wishes. “I will take the human Daughter to my aerie. There, she will be given the time she needs to make the final choice herself. All I ask is that you leave us alone. For as long as I deem necessary.”

  Nareen looked suspicious. “What are you planning, Brother?”

  “I will do as I have promised,” Eremon said.

  Chapter Nine

  She let Eremon steer her with firm hands down a long hallway and out through another heavy, carved door. He moved with fast, impatient strides, pulling her along with an iron grip. His hand swallowed hers, claiming it as his with every step. She thrilled at such possessiveness. No man had ever dominated her in such a manner. She had always thought only weak women let men take charge. Smoke rose around him, as if his Draca self fought to break through. It circled their heads as they walked, thick lines of gray trails that seemed to echo the shudders of the earth with each of Eremon’s steps. They walked across a small meadow and down a short bank to the edge of a calm river. Cypress trees lined the bank, offering leafy shade. A slight breeze stirred the air, and the improbable smell of spring mixed with all the smoke.

  “What are we doing here?” Lydia asked when they finally stopped.

  Eremon dropped her hand, indicating a green space for them to sit. He looked at her briefly, his eyes cool. “I needed to get out of the council chambers and clear my head.”

  He didn’t join her on the grass but, instead, turned away and walked toward the water.

  His back had as much to be admired as his front side, she thought, sinking to the ground with a sigh. Her eyes soaked in the sight of his broad shoulders and slim hips. His tight-fitting vest showed every rugged, muscular line of his backside. Tooled leather boots rose up his black trousers to his knees, and sun gleamed on his dark burgundy hair. Loosed from the tie, it hung past his shoulders in a careless mass. He looked, she thought, like a young god.

  She gazed in wordless longing while he st
alked back and forth at the water’s edge. He moved with a predator’s grace in long, soundless strides. The part of him most alien to her rippled under his skin like the hum of a constant song. His other self, the fierce, winged creature he had shown her so briefly—it too lived in him, and somehow she felt it watching her, wanting her.

  Her experience with the garnet in the council room had shaken something deep inside. Nareen and the council had guessed what might happen when she dared to touch the glowing jewel. Was it what they expected? Nareen indicated the garnet controlled the magic in this world. Now it controlled something in her. And something between her and Eremon.

  Lydia blew out her breath and fell back, trying to stretch out her tension.

  After a while, Eremon turned away from the river and walked over to her. A pulse of excitement flashed through her chest at the bronze, sculptured beauty of his face. His wide green eyes had an unusual slant, full of glittering mystery, and his dark eyebrows were lowered. Stooping down, he reached out as if he couldn’t help himself and ran one finger down her cheek in a light caress. His thick hair fell over his face, his hooded eyes serious. He looked as if decisions had been made. She waited, anticipation tightening her chest.

  “You came back to us,” he said.

  Lydia sat up, her cheek tingling from his touch. “I know, weird, huh? What was I thinking?”

  “I tried to warn you away.”

  Lydia’s face warmed, remembering the last time she saw him. Some kind of unforgettable warning that had been. “I needed to know for sure.”

  “To know what—for sure?”

  “If it was real. If I really am—you know. Part nonhuman.” She couldn’t quite get out the word Draca.

  He settled on the grass next to her facing the river, his legs drawn up. . “You have been discovering the powers of your blood. Even I admit all this is most unusual.”