Her Mad Dragon (Dragon Guard Series Book 15)

by Julia Mills

The mad dragon waited for the other party to answer, wanted to answer himself but knew he needed to find out who his old friend was in contact with before making his presence known. Holding his breath and counting the seconds, Maddox grasped at the fraying thread of his patience. When no answer came the mad dragon decided to speak, to tell Kyran to trust him, but stopped short when a low growl that quickly grew into a roar made both man and beast cringe against the abrasive intrusion and push back with a snarl of their own.

  Magic beat against magic. Maddox’s skull pulsed with the outrageous amount of power raging through it. He literally pictured his brain exploding from the pressure but refused to relent. His dragon roared and took a step forward. He lowered his huge head, positioning the fierce battle horns that grew in length and width as they ascended from between his eyes across his brow and over his head in the direction of the intruder.

  The imposing growl continued for what seemed like an eternity but was less than ten seconds before shutting off as unexpectedly as it had started. Echoing silence left in the wake of the retreating growl was immediately filled with, “Ullmhú le haghaidh cath. Tá sé ar fad fíor.”

  Barely recognizing Kyran’s threatening tone, two things became immediately clear; the Phantom was talking to himself and more importantly, thought he was engaged in battle. Needing to talk his brethren off the ledge before the Phantom hurt either himself or another, Maddox commanded, “Stand down, deartháir. The battle is over.”

  Silence was the only answer. Maddox could tell he was still there but the feeling was strange, so unlike Kyran, but still recognizable with the addition of his voice. It was obvious the Phantom was engaged in a tug-of-war for his sanity. One that unfortunately, the delusions were winning. In that moment, Maddox vowed to do whatever it took to bring his brethren home, to save him if at all possible. The only alternative was destroying one of his kin, one with whom he’d been so close and fought so many battles. It would be the mad dragon’s very last resort. It was simply unacceptable on every level to even contemplate.

  “Kyran, stand down. Return to your post.” Maddox again commanded.

  This time his orders were met with a low snarl of, “Ye ur nae Maddox.”

  “Yes, brother A'm. Staun doon 'n' come home.” Maddox spoke as he had when they’d known each other all those years ago, praying Kyran would recognize him.

  “NOOOOO,” burst through his mind. Both man and dragon held on to the connection to their brethren with their combined strength. They pushed white healing magic against Kyran’s barrage of tainted magic, fear, and anger, praying to make him see reason. The sheer power of the Phantom beat against the wall of magic Maddox threw at him. Sparks flew. A loud rumble shook their minds. The mad dragon felt Kyran’s strength waning so he doubled his effort, but he was no match for the black dragon in his current state.

  Once again, fearing the tricks his mind was playing on him, Kyran cut their connection, erasing all trace of their communication. There was no trail, no footprint, not even a spark of light showing where he’d been or where he’d gone. All that remained in Maddox’s mind was a pounding that rivaled ten jack hammers and a migraine making even the slightest ray of light feel like a blade to his brain.

  Making his excuses to the trainees, Maddox walked home through the dense woods to avoid as much light as possible, snuck into the large wooden doors hidden by the bushes just under the library window, and stole away to his basement. Thankfully, his dragon worked double time to cure his headache and by the time he stumbled down the stairs and onto his old comfy couch, his vision had cleared and his head no longer beat like the drumline at a college football game.

  It was right then and there that he decided he could no longer wait. It was time to find Kyran. Thinking back to all he’d heard while his mind was connected to his old friend’s, the mad dragon tried to draw a few conclusions. Whatever had happened to his friend had somehow caused him to retreat to the past; specifically, their former battles. The black dragon’s torture had been traumatic enough to take him to a very dark event in their combined histories, one Maddox did not want to relive but knew was inescapable.

  The next few days were spent searching through his old journals and those he’d kept from his fallen brethren, for every detail, from every perspective of their bloody battle all those years ago. There had to be some clue pointing to where Kyran was hiding out and if it pertained to that particular battle, Maddox knew it was somewhere in all the thousands of pages before him.

  Tons of reading and more secrets from his mate later, the mad dragon finally figured out where Kyran had to be holed up. The only one of their rendezvous points from that particular battle that made sense as a hidey hole was on the far side of the coast, opposite the inlet, in one of the caves naturally camouflaged by the ebb and flow of the tide.

  At the beginning of his rescue mission, everything went as planned. Maddox had awoken in the dead of the night, kissed Calysta on the forehead, and tip-toed out of the room It was a feat in and of itself considering he was old, big, and seriously out of practice when it came to sneaking about. Walking as softly as a six-foot-three-inch two-hundred-and thirty-pound man can while avoiding waking his mate or her bothersome sister, the mad dragon made his way through the house and down the stairs between the kitchen and laundry room. Once in the basement, he’d gathered his pack and sword before heading out into the calm, dark night.

  After securing a horse from the stables, because there was less of a chance of Kyran thinking a horse was a threat than a motorcycle, Maddox headed towards the coast with the hopes of bringing an old friend home. During his ride, he went over every contingency he could concoct to make sure there were no surprises. Thoughts that he was on a fool’s errand and that he should’ve at least let Calysta know where he would be nagged at his conscience, but the need to retain the independence he’d had for so many years won out. Maddox pressed on, sure he was doing the right thing and had every base covered.

  Reaching the bottom of Dark Mountain, as it had been called for as long as he could remember, the mad dragon tied his horse to a tree far from the hazards of the sea and scouted the area for signs of the Phantom. It had taken several hours and the sun was high in the sky when Maddox finally followed a trail of broken shells and trampled weeds to a path leading between the jetties, over the rocks, and up the most treacherous side of the crag.

  Everything was still going smoothly. He hadn’t actually ‘felt’ Kyran’s presence but tried to remain positive. Reaching the highest ledge, which led to the biggest, deepest cave in the mountain, Maddox climbed the vines to the far corner of the outcropping leading onto the mouth of the cavern. Once secure on the ledge, he used the overgrown foliage for cover, opened his enhanced senses as wide as they would go, and searched for the black dragon.

  Everything seemed normal; no disturbances, no sign of Kyran. He was about to give up and search another cave when the mad dragon saw unexplainable ‘dark’ patches throughout the fissure with his inner sight. It was as if someone was preventing him from ‘seeing’ what was really there. The magic felt foreign, almost manmade, but still organic at its base.

  Moving out into the open, hoping to draw his old friend into the light, Maddox crept towards the mouth of the cave. One step over the threshold and the crack of a branch being broken by the heal of a boot somewhere over his shoulder had Maddox doing a one-eighty with his sword at the ready.

  A quick moving shadow to his left was the only warning he got before a crudely carved club the size of his forearm came crashing down on his head. Stumbling to stay on his feet with stars dancing in front of his eyes and blood wetting his forehead, Maddox swung blindly with his broadsword screaming, “Dammit all to hell, Kyran! What the fuck did you do that for?”

  Sliding to the left, narrowly missing another blow from the black dragon’s trusty club, the mad dragon attempted to wipe the blood from his eyes with his free hand. His vision, now a smeared red haze, cleared just enough to see the shadow of Kyran’s ro
undhouse kick. Maddox ducked before the black dragon’s foot made contact with his head, but his right shoulder was not as fortunate.

  Unable to stay on his feet, the mad dragon hit the rock outcropping with a thud as his sword sailed towards the edge. In a move that looked like it had been choreographed by a Hollywood stuntman, Kyran dove towards the sword, slid across the ledge, and grabbed the hilt as the blade disappeared from sight. In one fluid motion, the black dragon pulled his knees under his body, sprang to his feet, and spun around while stepping towards Maddox, ending with the tip of the mad dragon’s sword pointed at his own throat.

  “Well, son of a bitch, you always were a showoff. Now, cut it out. I’m pissed and bleeding and wondering why the hell I came to save you in the first place.”

  Maddox lifted his hand to move the blade from under his chin. Kyran growled low in his throat and pushed the blade farther into the mad dragon’s flesh. A warm, wet stream of blood slid down his throat.

  “What the…?” Maddox growled, now more pissed than anything else. His words were cut off as Kyran jumped forward, pushed the blade farther into his chin, and snarled, “Shut yer mooth or die, ya’ bastard.”

  Looking deep into his old friend’s haunted eyes, Maddox saw the vacant stare, the total lack of recognition, and tried to quickly come up with his next move. Kyran was much farther lost down the rabbit hole than the mad dragon had ever imagined. He was going to have to revise his plan of talking and convincing. He would not leave him. The black dragon was still one of their own. Maddox could not and would not give up hope that buried deep within the wild man standing before him, there was some small shred of the man he’d once known.

  Letting his dragon take the lead, one beast called to the other. It took a moment but there was flash of recognition, a kinship of souls, hope that Kyran’s wits were returning. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the black dragon of the Phantom’s soul growled, blew smoke, and stomped the ground - definite signs of aggression. Maddox immediately ordered his dragon to stand down. Both man and beast lowered their eyes, a sign of submission, and the mad dragon allowed himself to be forced into the cave at the end of his own sword.

  Setting his pride aside was not a virtue Maddox MacQueen possessed. He’d been told from the day he took his first steps that pride would be his downfall, and dammit if his old mum hadn’t been right.

  His first clue that something was wrong came when he attempted to call to Calysta. There was no spark, no return call, not even the echo of their mindspeak, only the glow of their mating bond to let him know the connection remained alive and well. It was unusual, to say the least. She was the powerful Grande Priestess of the Earthen Witches and he was the most purely magical dragon in a century or better.

  At least until Kyran reappeared…

  They had been mated less than a month and here he was off on a fool’s errand trying to save a man who clearly did not want to be saved. If he lived long enough to get home, Calysta was going to kill him…slowly and painfully, knowing how vindictive his beautiful little witch could be.

  Kyran paced faster and faster. His rantings became louder and more erratic. He swung Maddox’s sword as if he was striking at combatants only he could see. The madness Maddox glimpsed within the Phantom while outside the cave rose to the surface. The glow from his onyx eyes cast a shadow on the cave walls, making it seem as if the demons of his soul were crawling into the light.

  Attempting to calm the black dragon, Maddox spoke in a low voice, “Kyran, old boy, you…”

  “Stoptar suas,” the black dragon hissed, pointing the blade at Maddox’s stomach while facing the front of the cave.

  Any other time, the mad dragon would’ve been mad as hell to be told to shut up, in any language, but the sound of footsteps had him obeying the shouted command and listening intently. Using his enhanced senses, which were greatly dampened by whatever magical cloak Kyran had placed over the cave, Maddox could make out at least ten people, maybe more, all human and still a good hundred yards away, taking the scenic route to avoid the roughest patches of the craggy terrain. The few errant thoughts he caught from the group were filled with hate and vengeance. One even imagined mounting Kyran’s head on a pike. They had to be hunters, if only from their abundance of disgust for the dragons and their total lack of magic.

  He’s not my favorite person right now either, but I don’t want him dead…

  With no more time for diplomacy, Maddox demanded, “Kyran, let me down and give me my sword. There are other blades in my bag. We need to defend ourselves.”

  “Demon tost,” was the Phantom’s snarled reply, emphasized by a sharp sword jab to Maddox’s midsection.

  With no help coming from his unhinged friend, the mad dragon closed his eyes, calmed his mind, and called upon his dragon. Together, man and beast poured copious amounts of magic into Maddox’s fingers, forcing the tips of the dragon’s sharp talons to burst through his skin. Fiery pain tore through his nerve endings as blood dripped from his claws. Forcing a change with that amount of magic was dangerous at best and always resulted in injury. But in this case, was absolutely necessary.

  Thankfully, the hunters had Kyran’s undivided attention, making him miss Maddox’s actions. He lowered the sword from the mad dragon’s stomach and slowly crept towards the opening of the grotto. He mumbled to himself, deciding he had a few minutes to plan before the enemy was upon them since his ‘home’ was at the back of a labyrinth of tunnels that traversed the inside of the massive mountain. Even if by some stroke of dumb luck the hunters breached the plethora of magical traps Kyran had set at the mouth of the cave, it would take a miracle for them to find their way through the maze of the cavern.

  However, since Fate had a sick sense of humor and had already thrown a monkey wrench into the mad dragon’s plans, Maddox decided he was going to err on the side of protecting his own ass and began to cut through the thick jute binding his wrists with the sharp talons of his beast. As soon as his wrists were free, he slowly lifted his head towards his feet in a kind of upside-down touch-your-toes move.

  Damn, doing this shit is when I realize how old I really am….

  Groaning to himself, the mad dragon grabbed his ankles, cut the rope and clutched the lava tube with his hands. Slowly stretching his large frame, happy to be right-side-up again, Maddox hung as still as possible as the extra blood left his head and the black spots retreated from his sight.

  Kyran was out of sight but the mad dragon could see his shadow while quietly dropping to the ground and creeping on silent feet to his pack. With his short blade and his serrated edge hunting knife tucked into his belt, Maddox made his way to the opposite side of the grotto opening. Looking out with both his enhanced sight and his preternatural perception, he watched as the black dragon inched along the tunnel wall, disappearing into the darkness of the cave towards the faint sounds of the hunters holding their ground where they’d stopped halfway up the mountainside.

  Trying once again to speak to Calysta or any of his other brethren using the mindspeak of their kin, Maddox cursed under his breath when his calls only echoed back to him. Facing the reality that his only ally was the deranged dragon before him who’d held him captive and would most likely stab him along with the hunters, the mad dragon stepped out of the cavern. One foot in front of the other, he remained almost fifteen feet behind Kyran, careful not to spook the black dragon or draw attention to himself until it was absolutely necessary.

  Better the devil you know, right? Sounds like bullshit to me.

  But it was all he had to work with, so Maddox stuck behind his friend and prayed for the best. The closer they got to the mouth the cave the more prevalent the feel of magic on his skin became.

  Guess I missed that the first time around. I was a little preoccupied, but damn…

  Kyran came to a screeching halt. Put his fist in the air as the universal signal for stop and spoke directly into Maddox’s mind. “Hey, Doxie, looks lik' they’ve git th' exit covered. Any idea
s?”

  Shaking his head and grinding his fist into the stone wall beside him to be sure he hadn’t completely lost his marbles, Maddox continued the black dragon’s delusion by answering, “They’re not on the ledge. My guess is they’re scared of us.” He chuckled for good measure before adding, “I say we wait ‘em out. Call for reinforcements.”

  When no response came, Maddox feared he’d gone too far, but he had to try to get Kyran to drop the magical damper long enough to call for help. Watching the Phantom’s back, the mad dragon waited for any sign that his old friend was at least partially still in the game. Several tense seconds later, Kyran replied, “Na time fur reinforcements. We hae tae defend oor position, Doxie. Afore th' bastards hae us cornered.”

  Before Maddox could open his mouth to give alternate suggestions, Kyran lifted his stolen sword, gave an exuberant war cry, and ran towards the exit. Chasing after his brethren, Maddox had to wonder what mortal sin he’d committed in this lifetime or the last to have Fate screw with him in such a twisted and totally fucked up manner. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in their ability to defeat any enemy on any terms, it was that Maddox feared the demented dragon would put in a repeat performance while they were in the midst of battle, leaving Maddox FUBAR.

  Bursting onto the outcropping, Maddox noted the full moon high in the cloudless sky and the distinct stench of hunter in the air. Their acrid hate and rotten treachery stung his nostrils. The black of their souls tainted the usually clear forest air. They were the scourge of the earth, the foulest humans alive – zealots who used their ignorance to breed hate and destruction. If he had to go down fighting, it might as well be against the worst the world had to offer.

  Putting his thoughts of Calysta and how he longed to hold her in his arms one last time to the back of his mind, Maddox called to Rian, Rory, and Royce. The O’Reilly brothers were the closest thing he had to sons of his own. He knew he could trust them to help without raising alarm throughout the clan…especially with his little witch. “Hey, boys, I need your help.”