Tears for Her Dragon (Dragon Guard Series Book 16)

by Julia Milla

  “Let’s kill Eve then the beer is on me and we can swap all the stories you want.” Kayne grinned.

  As quickly as it had begun all laughter died as Bronwyn, the platinum-haired siren with swirling blue eyes, climbed to her feet, pointed to the south, and whispered in a hauntingly melodic tone, “She’s close. Can’t you feel the hate? The aggression?”

  Her words turned to a song that became more pronounced, more haunting, more foretelling as the seconds passed. It called to the banshee within Caitlin. As the spirit of her ancestors grew, she felt an accompanying magic from Kyran. Turning toward her mate, looking at him through her mind’s eye, the banshee saw its mate, the spirit the Guardsman had inherited from his mother, coming to the forefront as if from a long respite. The spirit gave a welcoming wail, a mere murmur compared to the power Caitlin knew he possessed.

  “It's back. Ah kin feel th' power rising. Mah banshee is healed,” his whispered in awe from his mind to Caitlin’s. Turning to Kayne, he spoke aloud, “Ah hae a nu plan. Oone that th' evil bitch wull ne'er see comin'.”

  “Lead on, oh Phantom, my Phantom. You’ve never let me down before.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Leaving Caitlin with the refugees was one of the hardest things Kyran ever had to do. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she could take care of herself; the Heavens knew she’d been doing that for almost as long as she’d been alive. And she had Duke. The dog would die before letting anything happen to his mistress. It was that Kyran wanted to be the one taking care of her, protecting her, battling the demons who came calling. It was taking all the strength of both man and dragon not to rush back to her side, but the Phantom knew he could not. He had to show her that not only did he love her, the wonderful woman and his mate, but that he also respected her power, her strength, and her ability to stand on her own two feet. He would never again let her doubt him or think that he saw her as deficient in any way. She was his world and there was nothing, no matter how hard it was, that he would not do to make sure she knew that.

  “Hey, you paying attention over there? This is your plan, after all.” Kayne’s chuckle in his head pulled the black dragon from his thoughts and had him answering with a snide, “Stuff it, Kayne. Did ye mak' sure thoose hunters can’t git oot o' thair hidey hoole?”

  “Of course, I did. What do you take me for?” Then laughing out loud, the demigod quickly added, “Do not answer that.”

  Kyran had asked Marrok and Flint to take the high ground and be lookouts, thinking it would keep them from a majority of the hand-to-hand combat while still injured, as well as give the hellhound a great view from which to throw his fireballs and the Alpha a better shot with Kayne’s bow. Since they didn’t share a mind-to-mind connection and Caitlin had a better view of the mountain ridge Marrok and Flint were on, the black dragon would talk to his mate who would signal with a flashlight Rory had in his pack when they were ready for the hellhound’s fire and the werewolf’s arrows.

  Waiting was the hardest part, especially with Bronwyn’s siren song becoming louder and more haunting with every passing minute calling their enemies to them. Thankful for his dragon, who kept his banshee side in check, Kyran continued to check on Caitlin, amazed at the control she had over her banshee and its powerful magic. He had no doubt she could hold it back forever if need be.

  Finally, the sound of a revving engine reached the group’s enhanced hearing. Marrok’s lonely howl carried by the cool breeze of the darkest hour of the night right before the dawn, sounded as warning to Kyran, Kayne, and Rory. Using their enhanced speed, the Guardsmen spread out, with Rory and Kayne taking either side of the road, holding an extremely thick jute rope about eighteen inches off the ground directly across the path of the oncoming vehicle. If all went as planned, the jeep would flip over, giving the dragons the chance they needed to grab Eve and drag her off to the woods to pay for all she’d done.

  When Kyran had first explained his plan, Marrok and Flint wanted a public execution. They wanted to tear Eve’s head from her shoulders in front of her troops as a warning against future attacks to all her followers, but the black dragon had other plans. He knew there were other facilities, other paranormal beings being tortured in the name of science, and he wanted to get that information from Eve in order to shut them down as well. There was also the evil little beastie they’d left in the abandoned warehouse. If possible, they needed a clue as to what it was and how to destroy it. Kyran prayed that if Eve knew she was facing death, she would give them the answers they needed. It was a slim chance, but one he was willing to take. After a bit of explaining and discussion, the wolf and hellhound begrudgingly agreed.

  Second by second, heartbeat by heartbeat, the group waited, their need for action a living, breathing being pushing them to act. Finally, when Kyran thought he might jump out of his skin, the headlights of the jeep popped over the ridge. He leaned forward, ready to spring into action as soon as the grill came into contact with the rope.

  Kayne counted, “Three…two…one…go, KY, now!”

  Bursting from the cover of the bushes, Kyran ran under the airborne jeep as it flipped end over end. Snatching Eve from the driver’s seat where she floated in slow-motion over his head, the Phantom raced across the valley, past Caitlin and the refugees, straight into the dense darkness of the forest. Coming to a screeching halt at the agreed clearing, he threw the only living O’Baoill on the ground and stood over her with his short blade at her neck, finding it hard not to cut her throat and leave the body for the vermin.

  One by one, Kayne, Rory, Marrok, and Flint arrived, closely followed by Caitlin and Bronwyn, whose song was little more than the hum of background music assuring Kyran that none of the hunters had survived. If they had, she would have still been trying to lure them to their deaths with her haunting melody. However, his banshee spirit, along with his mate’s, were begging to be set free to wail at the deaths that had just occurred. But, even more so at Eve’s impending doom.

  With everyone who could come in attendance, Kyran leaned closer to the bleeding and battered huntress and spat, “Ye'v git twoo minutes tae tell me whaur you’re keeping th' ithers 'n' Ah’ll mak' yer death quick. Mak' me wait 'n' i’ll let th' hellhound hae ye. He’s git a great plan fur stripping th' flesh fae yer body inch by precious inch.”

  Fear she couldn’t suppress flashed in her obsidian eyes a split second before she rolled them and sneered, looking comical with her busted lip and blackening eye from the jeep accident the dragons had caused. Lisping through her broken front tooth, she snarled, “I’ll tell you nothththing. You pieth of sthit. You are chattle. Worththlesth to ththe end.”

  SLAP!

  Kyran’s huge, bright red handprint appeared on Eve’s cheek and her head jerked back from his strike. Grabbing the collar of her dark camo jacket with his free hand while pushing the tip of his short blade farther into her neck, he pulled her upright, shook her limp form, and growled through gritted teeth, “Oone minute ye wretched bitch 'n' Ah’ll gladly send ye tae Hell.”

  “Fuck you!” she screamed a split second before Marrok grabbed her from Kyran’s grasp, forcing the Guardsman’s blade to superficially slice across her neck. As the blood flowed down her chest, the seven-foot Alpha held the huntress high above the ground and roared, “Tell him where they are or I swear to the goddess I will rip your head from your body and put it on my mantel as a trophy.”

  No sooner had the words left his mouth than the ground under their feet began to shake. Kyran reached for Caitlin as she pitched forward. Flint caught Bronwyn just before she fell face first upon the forest floor as Kayne and Rory rushed to help Marrok stay on his feet and keep hold of Eve.

  Dark clouds gathered overhead. The low, eerie whine of a creature on the prowl echoed through the dense darkness all around them. Looking down, Kyran saw what looked like long, hairy spider legs creepy across the shaking earth, moving with malicious intent toward he and his friends.

  “Move! Move noow! Th' beastie’s oot 'n' he’
s hungery!”

  Throwing Caitlin over his shoulder, the black dragon sped through the forest toward the mountain, praying all the way that whatever the evil entity was it couldn’t climb. Following right behind Kayne, Rory, and Marrok, who still had Eve by the neck, the black dragon climbed the ridge, stopping only when the rest of his party did on one of the highest ledges, quickly moving into the huge unoccupied cave behind them.

  Kayne’s words echoed through the dark sky, pulling the black dragon from his thoughts as the demigod blew out a breath, “Good plan. Looks like that bastard can’t climb.”

  “Oh, you have no idea what it can do,” Eve choked, trying to be coy but failing miserably as Marrok’s grip around her neck tightened.

  Setting Caitlin on the ground, Kyran stalked forward, barely keeping his footing as the rumbling outside the cave grew in intensity. He knew he needed to find out how to appease, or better yet, kill the evil being before it brought the whole mountain down.

  Grabbing Eve from Marrok’s grip, the black dragon threw the huntress to the ground, knelt over her heaving body, put his knife in the already healing wound across her neck, and spat, “Tell me hoow tae ca' it af. Tell me noow!”

  Moving faster than he thought possible, Eve pulled her feet up, punched him in the gut with her heels, jumped to her feet, and took off running toward the back of the dark, dank cave. Racing to catch her while he cursed that she’d caught him unaware and had acquired so many special abilities from the shifters she’d killed, Kyran heard the others right behind him at the same time rocks began to fall from overhead and his banshee rose up within him, refusing to be denied.

  Pulling on the white magic of his dragon and his heritage from his father, Kyran tried to force his banshee spirit back, but once it met Caitlin’s, also rising to a crescendo within her, there was no stopping the wail. Death was calling and the couple was helpless to do anything but its bidding.

  Reaching for Caitlin with his mind, the dragon aimed his silent scream at Eve as his beautiful banshee mate let her keen fill the cavern. With his mind’s eye, he could see O’Baoill’s knees hit the ground, followed by the palms of her hand and finally, her head. Reining in his power the best he could, trying not to kill her before he could at least find out how to put the evil entity back in its box, Kyran and his dragon poured copious amounts of pure dragon magic into his silent scream until it tapered to nothing more than a whisper in the back of the black dragon’s mind.

  Racing forward, he realized that not only had Caitlin’s wail stopped, but the mountain was no longer shaking and the feeling of death and dread was lifting. Not willing to take the time to analyze what was happening, Kyran sped past his friends, scooped a wheezing Eve off the floor, and held her up by the shoulders while demanding, “How dae we poot it back, ye evil bitch? Ye are dying. There’s na cure fur mah scream. At least tell me hoow tae stoop it.”

  Grinning, despite the blood pouring from her eyes and ears, O’Baoill gasped and lisped, “You fool…” *cough*… “you already gave it…” *gag*… “what it wanted… death.” She coughed and gagged, blood splattering on the black dragon’s clothing as she added, “Ththere isth no…” *cough*… “putting it back…” *gasp* “It’sth your problem now.”

  “Then tell me whaur yer oother facilities ur,” Kyran growled, tightening his grip. “Ye are beaten. Tell me.” He shook her like a ragdoll, blood and spittle flying through the air as he tried to force her to talk before she died.

  Still fighting to breathe despite her wounds, Eve sneered, “You ththink…” *gasp*… “you’ve won?” *cough*… “You ththink I’m the lasth hunter you’ll ever fight?”

  Refusing to answer, Kyran stood watching the treacherous bitch die. He figured it was the least he could do for all the supernatural beings she and her family had tortured in the name of their twisted science…watch the abomination breathe her last breath. But even in death Eve O’Baoill refused to go peacefully.

  “Hey…” *wheeze*… “dragon…” *cough*… “Found your females yet?” She cackled, blood spilling from her lips along with her venomous words.

  “What females? Thare ur na mair originals. Ye lot made sure o' that?” Kyran knew she was baiting him, just trying to get the last word, in even death. But he couldn’t walk away; his dragon wouldn’t let him. At the mention of the lost females, those of the royal bloodlines his kin thought lost for all time, his beast was up on his feet and pawing the ground, demanding answers.

  Wheezing but still mocking Kyran and all that he stood for, Eve scoffed, “Are ththey?” *cough* “Or did I tear ththe worththless little vibria…” *wheeze*… “from ththeir dying mother’sth armsth…” *gasp*… “and leave them in the sthnow to fend for themsthelvesth?”

  Shaking her until her eyes rolled back in her head, Kyran snarled, “Tell me, ye fooking evil bitch, tell me whaur thay are?”

  Coughing and gagging, blood now flowing freely from her lips, the last of the O’Baoills croaked, “That sthecret diesth with me,” as her dying breath rattled from her lungs.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Kyran, you have to calm down. It’s been three days since you killed Eve. Give Drago time to get home and check out what she said. By the way, have you heard from him?”

  “Aye. He’s still loooking. Niall, Stefan, and Marcas, th' Clan Elders, remember th' females bit oonly twoo 'n' thay wur sure the lasses wur dead. Ah knoow she wis talking aboot mair than twoo. Ah kin feel it in mah bones.”

  Caitlin didn’t have to use their shared sight to know Kyran was pacing the floor and sloshing tea all over the floor because he talked with his hands, especially when he was agitated, and had forgotten the mug was in his hand. She could hear Duke cleaning up after her dragon and thought about chuckling but didn’t want to further agitate her mate, so she simply smiled and asked, “Do you still think Pearl and Crystal are somehow a part of what Eve said when she was dying?”

  “Aye. Why else wid thay leave before we goot back froom dealing wi' tha bitch? They're gargoyles, cousins tae th' dragons, 'n' ye said thay wouldn’t talk aboot whaur thay wur froom,” he grumbled, finally sitting down. “Ah hae na doubt thay knoow something.”

  Patting his hand where it laid on the table, Caitlin nodded. “Yes, but they had also just been rescued from hell on earth and were traumatized. I’m sure with time they would’ve opened up to us.”

  “Bit how come did thay run?” he grumbled.

  Having no answers and needing to change the subject, she asked, “Have you heard from Rory and Kayne? How are the others doing? I bet treating four werecats, two bears, a coyote, and a hyena is challenging. Although Maddox seemed to think it wouldn’t be a problem for his mate.” She stopped for a second to think then added, “Calysta is her name, right? Didn’t she treat you when you were there?”

  “Aye, 'n' she’s treated cats 'n' bears before. Besides, Niall is th' best healer Ah’ve ever knoown. Th'gither, they’ll fix ‘em right up.”

  She could tell his mood was still dark and it broke her heart, so she just kept talking, making sure he knew how many he’d helped. “Marrok called and said all is well with his pack. He laughed when I asked about Flint and Bronwyn. I guess they are living inside pack lands in a cave they are sharing. When I asked if they were together, he said he didn’t know about that, only that they were healing and he had given them sanctuary.”

  “Good, that’s good,” he answered, still distracted. “And Doxie said he thinks he’s foound a wey tae kill that evil wee beastie but Ah haven’t heard froom him 'n' he’s nae answering. Th' last thing he said wis that 'twas in hiding 'n' wouldn’t need tae feed fur a loong time after th' deaths o' Eve 'n' a' her hunters, bit whit if he’s wrong. Ah think Ah’m gonna…”

  Grabbing his hand as he stood and tried to begin pacing again, Caitlin pulled Kyran to her until their lips met and with all the love she felt, attempted to kiss away her dragon’s angst. It seemed to do the trick because, before she knew what was happening, her mate had taken control of their
kiss, scooped her up in his arms, and to the tune of Duke barking his approval, was carrying her out of the kitchen and down the hall.

  Lost to their passion, Caitlin moaned at the loss of Kyran’s lips then gasped in surprise when she felt the mattress at her back, immediately followed by her mate’s nimble fingers relieving her of her clothing. Lying naked before the man she loved was something the banshee wasn’t sure she would ever get used to, but seeing herself the way Kyran did made her feel like a goddess.

  “Because ye are…mah goodess,” Kyran purred, answering her thoughts before using his enhanced speed to rid himself of his clothing and quickly joining her on the bed.

  As his lips met hers and his hands left fiery trails of seduction upon her already sensitive skin, Caitlin could only give in to the overwhelming feeling of love and arousal that only her dragon could awaken within her. His fingers teased the already taunt peaks of her breasts as his tongue danced with hers, making logical thought impossible.

  Deepening their kiss while his hands inched their way down her body, Caitlin squirmed as goose bumps caused from the electricity of their connection raised all over her body. Tearing her lips from his and gasping for breath just as Kyran’s fingertips teased the already wet curls at her center, the banshee sighed, “Oh my goddess…Kyran, I love you.”

  “And I love ye, mo mBean,” he groaned with his lips at her neck as he slid two fingers deep inside her pussy.

  “Oh…oh…oh, yes, Kyran, yes…” she moaned, urging him, loving the feel of his digits sliding in and out of her.

  “Ah hae tae taste ye,” Kyran grumbled, pulling his fingers from her. In one fluid motion he laid her head on the pillows at the top of the bed with his head between her legs, which he’d lovingly placed over his shoulders.

  Looking up at her as she looked down her body at him, her dragon gave a devilish wink and grinned. “An’ noow Ah feast. Ah looove yur taste on mah tongue.” And with that, he slid his hands under her bum, lifted her pussy to his lips, and thrust his tongue as far as he could reach.