The Stone Warriors: Dragan

by D. B. Reynolds

  Dragan kissed the top of Maeve’s head. “Maeve did it. She broke the curse and got me away from that bastard. And she found you, too.”

  Gabriel froze, head tilted in question. “What bastard?”

  “Sotiris,” he hissed. “He’s had me for decades.”

  “Fuck me. Why?”

  Dragan gave a bitter laugh. “Why does he do anything?”

  “You’re right. Stupid question.”

  “Gabriel, we should go inside,” Hana interrupted, scanning the street with increasing nervousness.

  “Right. Why are we standing out here? Come on.” Taking Hana’s hand, he put the other arm around Dragan’s neck to steer him toward the door, but Maeve held back.

  “I didn’t lock the SUV. I didn’t even close the door. You go ahead,” she told him. “I’ll catch up.” Dragan gave her an uneasy look and started to say something, but Gabriel spoke first.

  “Move your car inside,” he said, gesturing at the spacious courtyard, which despite the five vehicles already parked there, had plenty of space for more. “We can lock the gates after you, now that everyone’s here.” He slapped Dragan’s shoulder with a grin.

  Everyone, Dragan thought to himself. Was it possible, after all this time, that they truly were together again? He kept thinking he’d wake up any minute, that this was all a nightmare masquerading as a dream. But he’d no sooner thought it than Gabriel was pulling him into his embrace, full of exuberance as he pounded his back all over again. Dragan returned the gesture, in self-defense if nothing else, but he was grinning like an idiot. There was no longer any doubt this was real. He’d have the bruises tomorrow to prove it.

  “I’ll be right back,” Maeve said from behind him.

  Dragan would have twisted out of Gabriel’s grip to go with her, but then Hana said, “I’ll go with you.”

  “Let them go,” Gabriel said easily. “It’s safe here, and if not, Hana can handle it.”

  “So can Mae,” Dragan added quickly. “I wouldn’t be here without her.”

  “So we’re both lucky then. Come on, let’s—”

  “No, I’ll wait until they’re back.”

  “Oh, it’s like that, is it? All right, we’ll wait together then. Though they might take our waiting as a sign we doubt their skills.”

  Dragan smiled. “I’ll take that risk.” But his gaze never left Maeve as she walked through the gates and down the street to the SUV, whose doors were, in fact, standing open. There’d been something in her eyes when he’d turned to find her watching him greet Gabriel. A sadness that she’d quickly covered up. He needed to time alone with her to find out what was going on in that brilliant head. Time that they weren’t going to get any time soon. But for now, he’d keep an eye on her, because she might not think so, but he understood his Mae.

  MAEVE WALKED slightly ahead of Hana as they passed through the gates and down the quiet street to where the SUV stood, looking as if it had been abandoned in the middle of a car chase. It was lucky that this was an expensive neighborhood, where no one would bother with her economical vehicle. Or maybe the neighbors knew about Nick Katsaros’s penchant for hanging around men with guns. This was, after all, Florida, and Katsaros’s house fronted the Intracoastal Waterway which fed into the Atlantic. Maybe they thought he was a drug kingpin and didn’t want to mess with him.

  “Is this yours?” Hana asked, pointing at the SUV.

  “Yes. It was a graduation gift from my parents.” She could have kicked herself for adding that last bit. It made her sound as if she’d just graduated from high school, damn it. “Let me move some things,” she muttered, and leaned in to snag the few empty cans and plastic bottles that were the inevitable result of a long road trip. Tossing them in the back seat to be dealt with later, she slid behind the wheel and closed her door, just as Hana did the same on the other side.

  “I broke Gabriel’s curse, too,” Hana said, as casually as if she’d been talking about picking him up from work. “It’s kind of a thing with these guys.”

  “A thing?” Maeve asked weakly.

  “The others—Kato and Damian—are with the women who freed them, too. The way Sotiris wrote the curses . . . he wanted them to be as difficult to break as possible, so each curse demanded not only a woman who would act in a way completely contrary to what he knew about women at the time, but also contrary to what he knew about the guys. Fortunately, not even he could have foreseen how long they’d be imprisoned, or how much women would have changed in the meantime. Fucker.”

  “Do you . . . know anything about him? Sotiris. Have you met him?”

  “Hell, yeah. I’m unlucky enough to have something he wants. He kidnapped me a while back.”

  Maeve shot her an appalled look. “That’s terrible!”

  “It wasn’t fun, that’s for sure. But Gabriel saved me.” She smiled. “With some help from the guys and Nico, among others.”

  “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  “Me, too. Don’t think I’m some fainting violet, though. I got in my licks before Gabriel arrived, and Sotiris took off.”

  “Wow. What about, you know, the others? The women, I mean.”

  “Well, Damian’s with Casey. She already worked for Nico, which is how they met. She was on a hunt for some big magical thing—you’d have to get the details from her—when she came across Damian’s statue. And then there’s Grace, who freed Kato. She’s an expert in ancient manuscripts and such. Speaks a bunch of weird languages, which is how she broke the curse. And then there’s me. Gabriel’s statue was hidden behind a magical hedge in my grandfather’s garden. I used to visit him all the time, because I was the only grandchild the hedge would let through. Fortunately, I grew up eventually and the rest is history.” She grinned and pointed. “Just park over there, next to our behemoth.”

  Maeve swallowed, feeling more and more as if she didn’t belong. Dragan hadn’t introduced her as his girlfriend—though she hadn’t expected that—but he hadn’t even called her a friend. Rather, she was the person who’d freed him from the statue and, yes, he’d credited her with finding this place, but she’d done it without magical skills or obscure languages. She was happy and relieved to have freed him. But then, she would have felt the same even if she wasn’t half in love with him. She snorted softly. Right. There was no half about it. She was completely gone. The computer geek who’d fallen in love with the football hero. Anyone who’d ever gone to high school knew how that one turned out.

  She wished Hana hadn’t insisted on going with her to the SUV. She could have made a clean break of it—kissed Dragan good-bye and disappeared before she turned into a sobbing mess. Now it was too late, and she could only hope he wasn’t too embarrassed that his rescuer was so ordinary, compared to the others.

  “Come on,” Hana said, pushing the entry code to open the front door, and waiting until Maeve was inside before closing it.

  Loud male voices were coming from the back of the house, including Dragan’s. He sounded excited. She didn’t think she’d heard that from him before. Happy, angry, passionate . . . oh, yes. That last for sure. It was a memory she’d take into old age with her. The sound of that beautiful man’s passion while he thrust inside her. She shivered at the memory.

  Hana nodded in the direction of the noise as they came even with a hallway that branched off to the right. “Well, that explains why they didn’t hear all the ruckus outside when Gabriel caught sight of you two. Doesn’t say much for security, though.”

  “Himura Hana,” a light woman’s voice called from the right. “Security is fine. I saw you and Gabriel out there. I just figured you two could handle it.”

  Hana laughed, a sweet, feminine sound that fit her perfectly. Though apparently there was a bad-ass under all that beauty.

  “Join us, Lili,” Hana called, pausing in the hallway opening. �
��It’s the ultimate reunion.”

  “In a minute,” the unseen Lili responded.

  Hana didn’t wait, but touched Maeve’s arm and kept walking toward the back of the house. “She won’t,” she confided as they passed two closed doors. “Lili’s shy. But you’ll meet her later.”

  They walked into a big living room at the end of the hall just in time to see a handsome man with long dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail embracing Dragan, while a giant blond man had his arms around them both, and was doing his best to crush them. Maeve had thought Dragan was a big man, and he was. No doubt of that. But the blond was huge. Not literally a giant—she was too well-schooled to think that—but he stood out, even in a room full of big men.

  “That’s Damian,” Hana confided. “He has an interesting story. You should ask him about it,” she added as she crossed the room to stand with Gabriel who was laughing at the huddle of male flesh.

  Maeve hung back, not wanting to interrupt the group hug, and thinking she wouldn’t be asking Damian about his story. She had a feeling Hana might be playing a joke on her. Sort of an initiation for the newbie chick into this remarkably exclusive group. She’d ask Dragan instead. Later, when it was just the two of them.

  Doubt struck her with that last thought. Would it ever be just the two of them again? Or now that Dragan had been reunited with his people, would he disappear into their ranks? Lost in sadness at the thought of losing Dragan, she jumped in surprise when he reached back and pulled her into his arms, settling her back to his front. She reached up with both hands to grip the arm he had holding her in place, and felt the brush of his lips on the side of her head.

  “Nico,” Dragan said, over her head. “This is my Maeve.”

  A man who’d been half-hidden by the huggers, moved into full view, slapping a hand on Damian’s shoulder, as if to keep him from stepping back and crushing him.

  Maeve stared. This was Nico? The ages-old and incredibly powerful sorcerer? Boy, did the movies get that one wrong. And role-playing games, too. Nico wasn’t grizzled and bearded, with a look of weary wisdom in his eyes. He was gorgeous. A couple inches over six feet, with broad shoulders and the long, lean look of a swimmer, rather than heavily muscled like the others. About the only thing the movies did get right was the sense of presence that surrounded him like an aura, if one believed in such things. It was more than arrogance or simple confidence. It was . . . power, she realized. Nico might not look the part, but he gave off a sense of strength that she’d never gotten from Sotiris in all the time she’d worked for him. Even Nico’s eyes, which were hazel, more gold than brown, glittered with power. And those eyes were currently fixed utterly on her, as if he was drilling directly into her brain to learn everything there was to know. She held his gaze, refusing to be intimidated, and for what it was worth, thinking blank thoughts.

  Eventually he stepped closer and held out a hand. “Nick Katsaros. Or Nico, if you prefer.”

  Maeve was never too thrilled about touching strangers, and especially not ones who gave off so much power that she feared getting caught up in it with a single handshake. On the other hand, this was Dragan’s friend and mentor from his other life. Even if he decided to kiss her good-bye and go off with his long-lost brothers, she didn’t want to insult someone so important to him. So she offered Nico her hand. “Maeve Collins.”

  “I understand I have you to thank for bringing Dragan back to us.”

  Her face heated with embarrassment. “Not really. We made it here together. It was . . . tumultuous.”

  He gave her a funny smile. Maybe it was the “tumultuous.” Did anyone else talk like that? Ugh.

  She was grateful when Nico turned his attention to Dragan, his expression one of genuine joy. “Dragan.” Maeve stepped aside, as the two men came together in a solid embrace that lasted a long time, with Nico, his eyes shiny with tears, murmuring over and over again, “I’m sorry, brother. So fucking sorry.”

  It was a deeply personal moment, and one she wasn’t supposed to hear. But she was standing so close that she couldn’t not hear it. So she pretended to be listening to what the others were saying, instead.

  Dragan shook his head, denying Nico’s words. “It wasn’t you who brought this on us. It was him, and we all know it. But now that we’ve cheated him of his ultimate revenge, it’s our turn. That fucker is going to learn that he should have left us alone.”

  “Damn straight,” the Damian boomed. “His ass is ours.”

  Nico shook his head at the big man. “Your assimilation into this culture is astonishing.”

  “It’s all the movies he watches,” the dark-haired Casey called from across the room, where she was eating, and drinking, and generally making merry as she and the other women exclaimed over a tabletop sculpture of such incredible grace that Maeve’s affinity for old and beautiful things yearned to join them. But Casey wasn’t finished. “I can hardly get him into bed most nights. He’s always stuck in front of the big screen.”

  Damian reached her in three long strides, catching her up bodily. “Complaining, Cassandra?”

  Dragan and Nico looked from Damian to each other, then laughed and pounded each other’s backs a few more times, before stepping apart. Dragan put an arm around Maeve, pulling her against his side.

  “Did you have problems getting here?” Nico asked, his mood turning on a dime, going dark and intent.

  Dragan shrugged, caressing Maeve’s arm as he did so. “Mae worked it all out, figuring how Sotiris would see things, and where we should go to get away from him. After that, we were packed and on the road in no time at all. She’s the one who suggested Florida, too. Because of some comment Sotiris made about hating the place. And then she found you.” He gave her a proud, possessive smile and hugged her tightly. “She’s a genius, my Mae.”

  “Sotiris?” Nico gave Maeve that penetrating stare again. “You know him?”

  Maeve heard the suspicion in his voice, and her first thought was to tell him where he could shove it. But he didn’t know her, after all. And she had worked for the creep. It made sense to wonder if she was a plant. Sort of. Part of her was still insulted, but then Dragan rubbed a hand down her arm again, as if sensing she needed reassurance. It reminded her that all of this—the people, the place, even the trip here—was about him, not her.

  “I worked for him,” she confirmed. “For nearly three years. I’m—” She wanted to tout her computer skills, but that wasn’t why Sotiris had hired her. “—an antiquities expert, of sorts. I know a lot about them, especially the more obscure items. I’m also super-organized and don’t mind being alone for long stretches of time.” Her heart hurt when she said that last part. Because it wasn’t true anymore, and might never be again. The problem was, there was only one man she wanted to be with, and he was about to leave her.

  “Where?” Nico snapped out the question.

  “Gently,” Dragan said quietly. “She’s no warrior.”

  Maeve didn’t know whether to cheer or cry at his defense. It was obvious that the rest of them—even the women, it seemed—were fighters of one sort of another. Something she definitely wasn’t.

  “Sorry,” Nico said. “I’m used to dealing with this crowd. If I don’t snarl, they don’t listen.”

  Loud boos answered his pronouncement, telling Maeve that everyone was listening. Which only made it worse. But she was determined to stand her ground and not be intimidated by him or anyone else. She might lose Dragan, but she wouldn’t lose herself.

  “He has a house in the Finger Lakes, upstate New York. He has other houses, other places. But that’s where I worked.”

  “You know the details of these other houses?” All of Nico’s attention was abruptly, powerfully focused on her. Any doubt she’d nursed about magic or sorcerers disintegrated under the weight of that stare. And she knew he might have taken the fact
s straight from her mind, if Dragan hadn’t still been holding on to her.

  “Yes,” she said simply.

  Nico grinned. “Well, welcome to the team. What’s your poison?” He pointed at a wet bar on the far wall with rows of bottles behind it.

  “Do you have a decent ale over there?” Dragan called, then kissed the side of her head. “Anything for you, sweet?”

  “Just water.” She smiled up at him. “Thanks.” Looking around, she sat on one of the big couches. This was obviously a room meant for casual gatherings of friends. Every piece of furniture had its place, but they were all just slightly askew, as if people moved them whichever way they wanted, to accommodate conversations—even the private kind. Oddly, this informality let Maeve finally began to relax, because this place spoke of family. Maybe not the blood kind, but of bonds forged in fire.

  Dragan returned with her water and sat next to her, turning to talk with Gabriel who’d sat on the other side of him. Maeve meanwhile looked up to see a lovely blonde approaching and scooted over to make room for her.

  “Grace,” the smiling woman said, by way of introduction. “I’m with Kato.”

  Maeve held out a hand, then froze, realizing this wasn’t a handshake crowd. “Maeve. But you know that already.”

  Grace squeezed her hand. “They’re a little much,” she confided, glancing around the room. “But you’ll get used to it.”

  “I don’t know,” she said softly. “You’re all . . . fighters. Warriors.”

  The other woman laughed. “They are,” she said, including Casey and Hana in her nod at the noisy group. “I’m not. I’m actually an antiquities expert like you. It’s nice to have another nerd in the group.”

  She blushed. “I’m really more into computers than antiquities. I’m just an amateur enthusiast who likes weird old things.”