by Kim Faulks
A Roaring Fire
A Zodiac Dragon Guardian Christmas Novella
Kim Faulks
Edited by
Angela Kelly
Illustrated by
Jacqueline Sweet
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Afterword
Copyright © 2016 by Kim Faulks
Edited by Angela Kelly
Cover designed by Jacqueline Sweet
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious, or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed in any real way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual locales or organizations, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Created with Vellum
A Roaring Fire
A Zodiac Dragon Guardian Novella
Terror and heartache have descended on the Guardians. Victor, Dragon-born in the sign of Aquarius, feels this pain deeper than the frigid December winds.
His brother Zadoc has returned bloodied, beaten, and broken, and Victor is helpless to save him.
Until he finds four female shifters hiding handmade dolls and carved wooden wolves, and he realizes with blinding clarity that he's the one who's been given a gift.
An opportunity for his family to heal, an opportunity for his family to love—the gift of Christmas.
This is a Christmas novella for all you diehard Zodiac Dragon fans that takes place between book 3, Cancer, and book 4, Aries.
Enjoy and happy holidays!
1
Victor
My Dragon, The Tormentor, was restless.
He shifted under my skin, filling my head with his incessant growl, ravaging what was left of my last nerve.
He needed water.
He needed rain.
He needed anything but the dark, brooding cloud that had fallen over my family.
Zadoc was safe.
But he wasn’t the same brother I remembered.
Two weeks of torture in the demon world, and they’d not just ripped his horns from his skull, they’d not just broken his wings—but they’d broken him.
He wasn’t the same…wasn’t anything like the brother I knew.
I didn’t know if I’d ever see that same man again.
Joselyn was one fierce mortal. She had that look of utter exhaustion and I just knew she was close to giving birth. She fussed over Zadoc, nursing his cuts and bruises. She caressed his arm and held his hand, urging him to eat when he stared at his plate. He couldn’t stand to be away from her, couldn’t stand to not touch her in some way, as though he had to protect her from even his kin.
It wasn’t his pure black eyes, or the bruises that covered his body that worried me, it was the shattered parts his mind—the cracks big enough for his demons to slip through—that chilled me to the bone.
Our house was packed with wolves, and now humans. Goulding had taken up permanent residence amongst the chaos of Evander coming home. Gunny had tagged along with my Cancerian brother, although she looked as out of place as I now felt.
I wiped the last plate dry and dumped the soaked dishrags into the washing basket, and sidestepped open cupboards.
Feeding time in this house was more intense, more ravenous, and far more brutal than the battle against the Echo pack—any more additions to our family, and my Dragon family wouldn’t survive.
The shattered glass wall had been boarded up with plywood, using a makeshift timber frame on the outside of the house. Still the icy air seeped through the cracks and filled the house with a frigid chill. I pulled the handmade fur jacket tighter around me, gripped the rope handle, and shoved.
Four of the Bloodstone females were huddled in a corner outside in the courtyard. I’d seen them before with their young. They were quiet, reserved, and helped in the kitchen once or twice, but there was nothing that drew me to them—until now.
They were covering something, tucking things between their legs and under their furs, hiding whatever this was from the rest of us.
I looked around to the few who remained in the cold. The hunters were still out, night wasn’t far away, and there was still game to be caught.
But it was something about these women, something about the way they huddled together—their hands moving frantically, tucking, hiding—that made me take notice.
One of the women turned her head and glanced over her shoulder. Our eyes met, and hers widened. Guilt, or surprise reddened her cheeks, and my heart picked up speed. They weren’t just hiding something from the other shifters, they were hiding something from me.
Easy, the Tormentor urged.
A frigid chill licked my bones. I took a step and raised a hand in greeting. Drawn by the desperation rippling in waves from my Dragon, and the warning in my gut.
Fake smiles came to life as the women turned back to the center of the huddle and shoved objects under their furs and the closer I came, the louder the warning.
Odessa, the Tormentor murmured. Where is she?
Panic filled me. They wouldn’t hurt her, not here, not now…still a seed of doubt took hold.
Tight jackets strained over hard edges. Whatever shoved against their skin wasn’t big, but it was awkward. Sticks and long blades of grass were scattered at their heavy boots.
I spied the small roll of tape under a hand and motioned toward the middle. “What do you have there?”
Four heads shook at the same time. I stared as one of the women dropped her head. Long knotted strands fell forward hiding her leathered brown skin. I’d met her before, knew her shy, timid gaze.
She gave me a hug when I returned home with Odessa, and said something like…as long as we are together the family is strong.
At the time, I wasn’t thinking straight. But in the days that followed, what she said came back to me. I shook my head, and tried to put a name to the face.
Charlene…Caroline, Connie…
“Carol, right?”
She raised her head, a nerve twitched at the corner of her eye as she slowly nodded.
I moved my focus to the middle the pack. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
She shot her gaze to the others. Their faces paled under blank expressions. But there was no help from the others, this shifter was on her own.
“Well?”
She winced and caressed the hard corners underneath her brown rabbit fur. There was a mumble, something I couldn’t quite catch. I leaned over them, knowing they were frightened…still I couldn’t stop…I had to know.
“Tell me what you have, Carol. Tell me and I’ll keep it to myself.”
She looked over her shoulder to where the others lingered in the trees. “We only took a few… We didn’t know they were for anything. Only the machine.”
I dropped to one knee, keeping my voice as low as I could. “You don’t have to worry, you can take anything inside the house. But what did you take?”
She glanced once more at the others, and then delved under her shirt. The tiny parcel was wrapped with white paper, exposed edges glistened from the tape.
There was something I wasn’t seeing, something hidden in the awkward shapes. “What is
it?”
One by one, they pulled out carved pieces of wood in the shape of tiny wolves, and handmade grass dolls with thick bobble heads and buttons for eyes and noses.
Calloused fingers held them so delicately. But it was the truth in their eyes that hit me hard as Carol answered. “It’s for Christmas. It’s for the kids.”
I rocked back on my knee. The wind was stolen from my lungs…Christmas. How could I forget? Something wedged in the back of my throat. The lump thickened until I could barely breathe. I tried to swallow while these four women stared at me with both terror and hope.
Christmas.
And here we were consumed by our own misery and hurt, while something bigger than us craved our attention. I met each gaze and pushed up. I found my feet before one of the shifters whispered. “Please don’t tell anyone, don’t ruin this for the kids.”
I tried to clear my throat, but the lump remained as I turned from the huddle. Screams tore from inside the house and I strode for the door.
“It’s okay, I won’t tell the kids,” I muttered and shouldered the thin wooden door.
The little lone pup, Shelly, tore around the corner. Her chubby little legs pumped, arms flapped as if a demon itself was after her. She squealed with delight as she saw me, and the piercing sound tore through my head.
She’d grown up in the last few weeks since we found her sitting outside the pen where her mother had been held captive. She’d been starving, dehydrated, and close to death. Her tortoiseshell fur had been matted with mud and filth.
She’d been left to die.
My palm ached with the memory of drawing water from the clouds and turning the drops to ice as it hit my skin. That had been before Odessa, and before my Dragon and I mended the pain of our past.
Evander stumbled around the corner wrenching me from the memory. His fingers curled like claws. Blue flames danced in his eyes, glistening with excitement as he growled. “I’m going to get you, Shelly. The tickle monster is hungry!”
I stepped to the side, flattening my spine against the wall as they barreled past. Evander cut me a look filled with glee, but he was gone in a second, consumed by this tiny little immortal in front of him.
Gunny strode along the hallway with a small hitch to her gait. She shook her head at the racket that echoed from the dining room and muttered. “He’s a kid himself, you know? I don’t think he’ll ever grow up. The man has three thousand years on me, and yet I’m the grownup here.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “How could you want him any other way?”
A deep knowing echoed from her gaze, the truth was hard as stone as she answered. “I wouldn’t.”
She left me and headed for the laughter, and in this moment I finally understood…we were a family. Bricks and mortar didn’t make this place home, these humans, these wolves, and us Dragons did.
I turned right and headed for the bedroom at the far end of the house. Marcus and Abrial had relocated from upstairs, giving the bigger bedrooms to the women and the children. Their bedroom now was nothing more than a closet, we had outgrown these walls and still more shifters came.
Word had spread that the Bloodstone pack was protected by the Guardians. We took in the weak. We took in the women…and we were a force to be reckoned with.
I raised my hand and rapped on the wood.
“Enter,” came a growl.
I yanked open the door and scanned the room. Marcus was hunkered over a desk in the corner. Abrial was out hunting with the others, teaching the men how to hunt, cook, and clean. It was a big change for the male shifters.
Over the centuries women had taken on more than their fair share, which left the pack weak…and the Bloodstone pack was not a weak pack anymore.
The study had been turned into another bedroom. As soon as winter blew in with its gusty winds and its bitter frosted sting, every room in the house had become occupied. Still wolves spilled into the lounge room and slept between the legs of the table and chairs.
Marcus raised his head from the stack of books. With this many mouths to feed money was running out fast. No amount of stock bonds and investments could ever keep up. “What’s up?”
“We have a problem.”
One brow shot high. “Don’t tell me they knocked down the plywood wall, again?”
I shook my head. “Worse.”
He leaned back, threw one hand in the air, and snapped. “What could be worse than a falling down house, too many mouths to feed, and an Alpha who doesn’t listen to a word I say?”
“Christmas…Christmas, that’s what’s worse.”
His brow narrowed. A slight shake of his head said he didn’t believe me. He stared at the wall. I could hear the ticking of his mind from here. “Goddess…I thought we’d only just had…”
“Me too. But I found some of the women wrapping hand carved wolves and grass dolls in the fax paper from the copy machine. We can’t let that slide.”
Marcus nodded. His shoulders rose and then deflated like a balloon. “I know, I’ll…”
“We have to give them a Christmas they deserve. We have to be a family.”
My eldest brother wrenched his head up. His brown eyes widened, for a second he was stunned until he dropped his gaze to the pocketbook filled with dwindling dollars. “How? We’re running out of money too damn fast. There’s not enough to feed all of us, let alone Christmas presents. There’s just no way, Victor.”
“You only have to look at them, Marcus. See the horror and the fear in their eyes. You only have to look at them carving wooden animals and hiding them under their clothes. We will always find food. We will always have each other. But it’s hope that’s fading here, it’s hope we have to find.”
Marcus shook his head, his shoulders slumped. “I don’t think we can afford to…”
“Then we’ll find it. We’ll make do with small gifts for the children, and a feast fit for the Christmas table. Abrial and the men can hunt. We can search for roots and vegetables. Odessa knows how to scrounge when it’s needed. We can do this. Let us do this.”
He slowly nodded. His shoulders tightened as he winced. “Okay…okay. That we can do. But, Victor…we have to keep this contained.”
Hope filled me like the warm rays of the sun. For the first time we had a chance to do something good…something right.
I stepped closer, reaching out for the first time since I’d come home, and gripped his shoulder. “Contained. That I can do. No one will even know.”
2
“We want to keep this quiet, okay?”
The four women stared up at me with open mouths. I cornered them at the edge of the lounge room, just inside the makeshift door.
They hadn’t said a word since I told them what we had planned. I focused on Carol, making sure she understood exactly what I was saying and repeated. “So, we have a small amount to spend on presents. You can either come with me into town to buy gifts, or give me a list of the things I need to buy. Abrial will be organizing the feast, and will scout for a tree over the next two days, but we won’t put this up until Christmas Eve. This is the best we can do. I wish there was more.”
Silence. Utter silence.
I shifted my gaze from one to another, waiting for an eternity before I muttered. “Say something.”
“I love you.”
I flinched at the words. Carol lunged, throwing her arms around my waist. The move was sudden, taking me by surprise.
The others followed suit, surrounding me on all sides. They gripped me tight, squeezing until I could barely breathe. I dragged one arm through the middle and waved at anyone for help.
But there was no flag of surrender and no savior came.
I reached down to pat a shoulder and wheezed. “It’s okay. It’s the least we can do. But…we…need to keep this between us. Bastian and I will head to town to buy the gifts… If you’d like to come you’re more than welcome.”
Heads nodded. Shoulders shuddered with silent tears.
These wome
n had been treated badly their entire lives—beaten, raped, surviving on scraps of affection—until they left their pack with nothing but hope, and forged a new future, here, with the Bloodstone pack.
In the distance, I caught sight of her. My heart sped with something stronger than fear. Odessa raised her head, finding me bunched amongst these women, and smiled.
Her blue eyes sparkled. The rush inside me was stronger than gravity. The Tormentor’s grumble grew in pitch until the keening sound pierced my head. I took a step drawn by something greater than my Dragon… I was drawn by her…my demon wolf.
Her blonde hair hung across her eyes hiding the thick, raised scar that marred her beautiful face. I didn’t see the imperfection. I didn’t see what others saw…she was the woman who saved me from a demon’s blade…the woman who I saw in a prophecy of burning flesh and fire.
The woman they tried to break. The woman who was powerful enough to end the world… My Dragon loved her…and she was all mine.
Her sly smile crept higher on one side. I forced a smile and silently mouthed, help me. She shook her head and backed away, and headed for the far end of the house and the giant Ash tree.
I wanted to grab her, throw her over my shoulder. I wanted to teach her why it wasn’t good leaving me alone with these women…for being around them, only made me want her more.
One of the women pulled away, and then the others followed. I dropped my focus from Odessa as Carol spoke. “We’ll give you a list, the ages of the children, and their sexes. We don’t know what to get for them. But our children will be grateful for whatever you may give.”
“Then, that’s done. Christmas is planned with three days to go.” I muttered and backed away.
My mind filled with dolls, trucks, and planes all piled underneath a sparkling Christmas tree.