Ranger Knox (Shifter Nation: Werebears Of Acadia Book 1)

by Meg Ripley

****

  Mads had perfect control over himself. The dragon never emerged unless he willed it—a requirement to live in the world of men, especially after mankind developed the technology to blow his head off—but a sudden scream of pain brought the beast right to the surface. He even felt the bones in his face begin to shift before he could force the fire back down to his belly. He pushed the intercom button with a trembling finger.

  “April? Are you here yet?”

  No response.

  His feeling of disquiet intensified and another wave of pain washed through him. It definitely was not his; something was wrong with April. She was hurt somewhere, and she needed him. He abandoned his desk and considered divesting himself of all distractions—permanently. Nothing he’d acquired, developed, or grew mattered to him at all anymore; they only served to keep him from the one thing that did matter in his life, and now she was gone. Hurt somewhere. Crying out for him.

  His instincts shouted at him to take the stairs to the roof and use that as a launching pad. What did he care if the whole world saw him winging over the city? That was such a small concern when faced with April’s great fear and even greater agony. But he forced himself to take the elevator to the parking garage, walking with contained purpose, remaining calm as he turned the key and drove the car into the blinding sunlight.

  Mads wanted to speed to the outskirts of the city, where he could abandon the car and shed his human skin, but there were cops everywhere. The speeding ticket would mean nothing to him but a delay, and he knew there wasn’t a second to spare. He concentrated on the task at hand, even when spikes of red-hot pain shot through his arms and behind on his eyes. He would do anything to make it stop, but he welcomed it at the same time. As long as he felt that, he knew April was alive. And every second of torture only fed the flames of fury already roaring through him.

  He followed the highway blindly, driving until all the buildings and crowds were behind him. He pulled off at an empty rest stop and was barely out of the car before his wings emerged. He took off with a giant flap of his great wings, pushing the air beneath him and rising higher and higher, until he was no more than tiny red spot against the blue sky. In his true form, it was easier to sense April’s distress, and he used it as a homing signal, winging through the clouds to find her. Distance meant nothing to him and miles might as well have been inches.

  In the back of his mind, he understood what was happening: he knew he was rushing towards a trap, and he knew who set it for him. April had tried to tell him. She’d been trying since Florence, but he’d been arrogant, certain that Savannah’s own sense of self-preservation would stop her from lashing out. But maybe her life didn’t matter to her at all anymore. Maybe grief had robbed her existence of meaning, and now she was determined to take the meaning from his life as well.

  He wouldn’t allow that to happen. She no doubt expected him to be blind with rage, too furious to think clearly or to be any danger to her. But he always had his wits, even when his heart beat a tattoo of terror against his ribcage. He would save April and he would take down Savannah, once and for all. By the time the sun set, the world would be rid of one dragon, and April would know that she could always count on him to find her, to save her.

  When Mads finally reached the ranch house that acted as April’s prison, he bellowed his invitation to Savannah. The sound echoed for miles, the vibrations of the roar strong enough to trigger equipment meant to detect earthquakes. He bellowed again and fire erupted from his throat, singeing the air.

  “I’m here,” he roared in his ancient tongue. “Come and greet me if you are not a coward.”

  Savannah’s answering roar told him the message had been received. April’s distress instantly abated, but she was still in pain. He pulled his lips back over long teeth and braced himself for the fight. He was going to take great pleasure in stealing the fire from Savannah’s throat and the life from her chest. He roared his sacred vow to the sky: After this day, the great Dazenth will fly no more.

  “You are the coward,” Dazenth hissed as she rose to the sky. “How long did you think you could run from me?”

  “You never should have involved her.”

  “You should not have killed your own kind for her!”

  They moved at the same time, their roars lost in the wind from their furious wings. They clashed midair, their long talons and tails entwining, tearing at any flesh they could reach while Dazenth spewed fire so hot, the flames were blue. Rugarth withstood the heat easily, his talons grappling for greater purchase. He landed a hard blow in the soft part of her stomach and she wheeled away, flying in a great circle around him, gathering momentum and speed. He flapped his wings, hovering in place until the last second of her plunge, when he deftly angled away. Unable to stop, she plummeted into the hard Wyoming dirt.

  He descended immediately, driving his talons into her back. He was aiming for the cords of muscle that controlled her wings, but she dodged away just in time, her head whipping around to catch his side with her teeth. The sharp incisors ripped through his scales, reaching flesh, and though he managed to wound her, she was the one who spilled first blood. He quickly flapped his wings, pulling himself into the air and out of her reach. From high above, he blew a wall of fire down, pinning her in place. She danced away from the flames as deftly as she could, spinning around to battle fire with fire.

  The dry grass around them caught like tinder and fire spread like a living thing, racing towards the house and surrounding them in an ever-growing wall. Dazenth caught an updraft and returned to the air, charging towards Mads once again with a terrible scream. He matched her roar and prepared to meet her once again.

  ****

  Mads had come for her, as she knew he would. When Savannah left to meet him, she didn’t bother securing April to the chair—a fact that April didn’t even notice at first. Her hand throbbed with excruciating intensity, three of her five fingers bent at odd angles. Every twitch caused new agony to tear through her, and even if she remained perfectly still, she couldn’t make the pain abate. There was heat in her side, just below her ribs, and heavy drops of blood flowed over her hip.

  But adrenaline took the edge off her pain, allowing her to shuffle to the door and try the handle. It turned in her hand, much to her surprise, and as long as she heard the two dragons overhead, she could keep moving. She kept hoping for the final roar of the deathblow—it never occurred to her that Mads wouldn’t win. She’d not only seen him fight before, but now she knew the dragon intimately; knew his size, his strength, his speed, his age. He’d killed Chester with hardly any effort at all.

  But the fight went on and on and on. The earth itself shook with the force of their brutality, windows and frames rattling with every roar. When she peeped through window at the end of the hall, the world had turned into a merry hell of dancing flames. At that moment, the dragons were so far above her that they were nothing but tiny specks, but soon they were plummeting back to earth. At first, she thought Mads was driving Savannah down from the clouds, but as they got closer, she realized it was Savannah with the upper-hand.

  Mads slammed down, wings outspread, his tail going limp as soon as he landed. April forgot about the ceaseless throbbing in her hand, the free-flowing blood on her side. She forgot about everything except her need to be at his side. It didn’t even occur to her that Savannah might dart down from the sky and pluck her up like an eagle capturing a rabbit. Her place was at his side, and regardless of their fate, they would meet it together.

  The late summer day might have been comfortable if not for the fire zipping around the yard. The flames were already licking at the corners of the house and it wouldn’t be long before it went up like a dry tinder box. April ignored it all and raced for her dragon, still lying immobile where he landed. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead. The fall had stunned him. Had knocked him unconscious but it certainly hadn’t been enough to kill him.

  The closer she got to his immobile form, the more her convict
ion faltered. He’d landed so hard, he’d made a crater, and his great chest didn’t rise and fall. No smoke twirled from his nostrils, and even the vibrant red of his scales had dimmed to something almost black. Like burnt cherrywood.

  She felt something gathering deep in her stomach. A cry without words. A prayer for a missing god. It built on itself, growing stronger by the second, pushing up from the core of her body to her chest, bubbling and fomenting into her throat. Heat stung the back of her eyes, but there were no tears. She moved towards him like she was walking under water, but she covered the distance in mere seconds, unmindful of the dragon hovering above her.

  When she finally reached his side, there was no heat radiating from his body. She touched his dear face, but there was no response; no flicker of his eyes, or air filling his lungs. The dark feeling inside of her continued to grow. It felt like a hot stone in the base of her throat and she opened her mouth wide, like she could disgorge herself of that pressure.

  “Now you will die at his side. And you will both BUUUUURN.”

  The sounds coming from Savannah’s mouth were not words—at least, they weren’t English words. But somehow, April understood every single syllable. How dare she. How dare she?

  All of her life, April preferred to take the path of least resistance. If somebody angered or upset her, she walked away instead of confronting the culprit. If somebody stole from her, she shrugged it off and simply replaced the item. She even did her best to keep people at a distance, avoiding making new friends because then she would never have to work at having a relationship. She had never considered herself a coward, but it was simply easier to live like one—without confrontation, without struggle, without a fight.

  But now April had something she wanted to fight for. She had anger that couldn’t be contained. She had lost something that nobody had the right to take from her; something that could not be replaced. She pushed herself to her feet and dragged herself up the wall that was Mads’ ribcage, climbing onto his stomach, spreading her blood across his scales.

  From her vantage point, she lifted her face to the sky and she roared. The dark thing inside of her dislodged from her throat and flew at the great monster in the sky. For a moment, April was sure she could actually see it: some sort of cloud that expanded until it surrounded Savannah completely.

  In the next instant, Savannah turned to stone.

  The massive rock shattered as it hit the earth, immediately losing its form, turning to dust and pebbles. The earth shook from the impact and she lost her footing, falling flat on Mads’ stomach. She lay where she fell, silent tears wetting her cheeks, falling down on him like rain. She could feel the heat of the fire-now completely wild across the parched land. It would spread to them soon, and they would burn, exactly as Savannah had predicted. April could get up and run, but run to where? Home? What home did she have without Mads?

  Her tears fell in a torrent, clogging her nose and sinuses, until she was finally forced to lift her head. The fire danced ever closer, and she couldn’t withstand the heat on her cheeks. Her tears evaporated, her skin pulled tight, and a sort of peace enveloped her. This is it. This is…

  Movement beneath her cut off her thought. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the sudden flare of hope. It’s nothing. He’s not-

  Breathing. One long slow inhale. One very slow exhale. And another one after that.

  April crawled up his body. “Mads? Mads, are you awake? Mads?”

  His wings had been splayed over the ground, but now they moved up, enclosing her in a protective cocoon. The heat of the wildfire disappeared and she could hear his heart beating against his ribs. The tears sprung back to her eyes, though this time they were from pure relief. He was alive. She’d been mistaken before. What did she know about dragon physiology? Perhaps he’d just been in shock and—

  His talons closed around her and the world shifted as he righted himself, wings pulling back to lift them towards the clouds and safety. She looked down as the flames caught the house, consuming the dry wood in seconds. The thick smoke was already obscuring the sun, and Mads was moving swiftly to escape the battleground, but April saw the outline of the dragon’s tail in a stone cropping. It looked like the remnants of an ancient dinosaur, and that too was lost to the golden-red fire.

  ****

  “Tell me again, what happened?”

  April sighed. “My story is not going to change, you know.”

  “I’m not expecting it to change. I’m just trying to understand.”

  “You’re trying to understand? What makes you think I understand? You were dead. She turned to stone.”

  “And your fingers are healed,” Mads added.

  April looked down at her hand—normal now. No pain, no twisted fingers, no swollen, broken joints or discolored bruises. She had no memory of when her hand returned to normal. Was it before or after Mads lifted her to safety? Was it before or after he died?

  “Well, I don’t care.”

  “You don’t care?” Mads asked.

  “No. I don’t. All I care about is that you’re alive and she’s not, and now we’re both safe.” She was still staring at her hand as she spoke. It was difficult, if not impossible, to meet his eyes. Since they reached the sanctity of his penthouse, she felt uncomfortable. Like she was walking on pins and needles, and soon her feet would turn into balloons.

  “I don’t believe you don’t care.”

  “Then enlighten me on what I feel.”

  He lowered himself to one knee and took her hand, running his fingers over her unbroken knuckles. Her hand was so small in his. “You’re frightened.”

  “Savannah’s dead. Why should I be scared?”

  “You’re not afraid of Savannah. You’re afraid of yourself.”

  April pulled her hand away. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “You know you can fool everybody else, April, but you can’t fool me. I can feel what you feel. I can hear your heart pounding and your blood racing. I can see the shadow in your eyes.”

  She sighed again. She knew she was beat. He wouldn’t be dissuaded by silence or by sarcasm. He would sit there all night if he had to, and all the next morning, and the day after that. “What kind of monster am I, Mads?”

  “You’re not a monster. I can tell you that right now.”

  “But I killed a dragon in mid-air.”

  “And you brought one back to life.”

  “Yeah, that, well, that’s not normal. Normal people don’t turn things to stone. Normal people don’t bring back the dead. Normal people don’t fall in love with—”

  “With monsters?”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.”

  “You’re not a monster. You’re a beautiful, brilliant woman. You’re also a gorgon.”

  April blinked. “What? I’m a...gorgon?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m a creature so ugly I turn men to stone? Like Medusa?”

  “She was not so ugly that she turned men to stone. She was so beautiful that she turned men to stone. She crippled armies because a single look at her and a man no longer wanted to fight. Do you know anything else about gorgons?”

  April shook her head. She remembered the story of Medusa from school, but she couldn’t recall any other mention of gorgons.

  “They are powerful creatures of protection. A long time ago, gorgons were as numerous as dragons. They would often favor a single family or clan and protect them from generation to generation. As a result, they were worshipped as goddesses all over the world and throughout time.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “Powerful women are not always regarded highly. Many were burned and hung as witches, and those that survived went into hiding. I haven’t seen a gorgon in a couple of centuries, at least.” He tilted his head, regarding her with a thoughtful quirk of his lips. “Perhaps that is why I did not recognize you as one at first.”

  “But how can I be a gorgon?”

  “Was your mother one?”
<
br />   “No...well, I don’t know. I never knew my mother. My father raised me. He said she had to go home.”

  “Home? What does that mean?”

  “I thought it meant heaven, to tell you the truth. There was another girl in my class whose mother had died, and she said that her mother went home to the angels. So I figured that’s probably where mine went, too. But…”

  “But perhaps he meant something different.”

  “Perhaps.” She tugged on his hand, pulling him to his feet. She needed more than the touch of his hand. He understood her silent request, setting on the bed beside her and pulling her into his arms. She rested her head against his chest, listening for the steady beat of his heart. It was the most joyful, comforting sound she’d ever heard.

  “I can bring back the dead?” she asked.

  “The blood from your right side will cure all and, yes, bring back the dead. The blood from your left is a poison that nobody can recover from.”

  “And I can turn things to stone?”

  “I had always assumed that was merely part of the legend, but apparently, I was mistaken.”

  “What else? You said gorgons could protect a single family for generations. Does that mean I’m immortal?”

  “You are like me. Not invulnerable to death, but you’re not going to die unless your head is removed.”

  It would take her some time and space to fully process and understand everything she’d learned about herself, but that was all she truly needed to know. She was not going to grow old and die, leaving Mads behind. Perhaps they could never have a child together, but their time together would not be limited by a mortal lifespan.

  “I want to go back to Germany.”

  “Then we shall.”

  “Is this finally over? Or is Charles going to come after us next?”

  “Charles? That threat has been removed.”

  She blinked up at Mads. “Did you kill him?”

  “No, but I sent somebody to pay him a… friendly visit. He’s already lost his wife and his son. He doesn’t want to risk anything else.”