The Dracons' Woman: Book 1 of the Soul-Linked Saga

by Laura Jo Phillips

  Garen’s face split in a slow grin so suggestive that it caused Lariah to blush.

  “Will this do for a bribe?” he asked.

  Lariah couldn’t help but grin back. “I think it will,” she replied.

  Trey swept her up into his arms and headed for the bedroom. “Good thing,” he said to her, “otherwise, I was thinking I’d have to pull out my fall-back reason to punish you instead.”

  “I guess you’ll just have to save that up for next time,” she said, laughing.

  “Don’t worry little love,” he growled at her as he laid her on the bed and began removing her clothing. “I will.”

  Chapter 17

  The next morning Lariah rushed through her breakfast, anxious to spend time with her new books.

  “Trey and I have to check the field towers today,” Val announced as he reached for a second helping of Suly’s special egg scramble. “We’ve put it off too long as it is and I know that some of them need a full recharge by now.”

  “And I promised Ric I would go over the final stock rotation and allocation plans in the main barn today,” Garen said. “I’ve been putting it off, and we have some commitments that need to be filled soon. It really can’t wait any longer.”

  Trey opened his mouth, but Garen held up a hand. “I know, the field towers can’t wait any longer either.”

  The brothers looked at each other, then at Lariah. “Perhaps today would be a good day to work in the clinic with Doc,” Val suggested to her.

  “No, today is not a clinic day,” she replied. “Today is Doc’s day off.”

  “Guess I forgot,” Val said with a shrug.

  “I think you and Tiny should come to the barn with me,” Garen said. “You can visit Nahia.”

  Lariah wrinkled her nose. “If you don’t mind I’d prefer to stay in the house today,” she replied. “I rode Nahia yesterday, and I promise I will visit her tomorrow. Today I really want to enjoy the books you guys gave me.”

  Garen, Trey and Val all looked at each other across the table. They all knew that it would not be fair to deny her. As soon as they had given her the gift, they had carried her off to the bedroom, not allowing her even a few moments to enjoy them. Still, they were hesitant to leave her alone.

  “Guys, please,” Lariah said, a faint note of exasperation in her tone. “I’ll be fine. I promise to stay in the house all day, Tiny is here, and Suly, and I think Pater is planning to work in the garden today. You don’t need to constantly watch over me.”

  Garen hesitated. Lariah frowned. “I lived many years all by myself, without anyone watching over me every single minute of the day,” she said. “You don’t need to treat me like a child.”

  “We do not treat you as a child,” Garen corrected her. “We treat you as the most precious person in our lives.”

  Lariah blushed. “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. “But you guys have left me alone in the house before with Suly and Pater. I don’t see why today should be so different. And I really want to enjoy my gift today.”

  Garen gave in with a reluctant sigh. “Very well, we will attend to our tasks, and you can stay here. But Lariah, I warn you, should you allow any harm to come to yourself we will spank you every single day for a year.”

  Ouch, Lariah thought, while her treacherous body reacted hotly. She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but nothing is going to happen to me,” she said.

  Lariah spent the morning deeply engrossed in her new books. The images were astounding, the colors bright and pure, each one so beautifully detailed she felt as though she could stare at them for hours. After spending a long time flipping through each volume, enthralled with the images, she finally selected one and settled down to read.

  Faron stepped out of the bright sunlight and into the dim coolness of the main barn. He spotted Garen and headed straight for him. Normally he would not interrupt the Prince when he was so busy, but he had an anxious feeling about the message he had received and felt the need to speak with Garen about it at once.

  Garen heard Faron approach and turned to greet him, halting his foreman, Ric, in mid-sentence with a raised palm when he saw the expression on Faron’s face.

  “What is it?” he asked before Faron had even reached him.

  “I received a call from Jackson Bearen,” Faron said, speaking quickly. “A ground-car was reported stolen this morning from the spaceport. The owner just returned from vacation, and when he went out to the lot, no ground-car. Jackson had the security vids pulled and they were able to see what appeared to be two humanoid figures taking the ground-car late last night. The security vid showed them using an ignition card. The owner checked his pockets and discovered that his ignition card was missing, but he had no idea for how long.

  “Bearen got the trace codes for the vehicle about an hour and a half ago. They were able to confirm that the car took a direct route from the spaceport to just inside of Granite Falls where it stopped early this morning. Bearen just rechecked it and discovered that it had moved again. It’s been sitting just outside your main gate for about an hour, as of approximately 15 minutes ago.”

  Lariah looked up and realized she had been sitting on the floor reading for a couple of hours. She stood and stretched, spotting movement through the front windows. She recognized the shape of Pater’s floppy wide brimmed hat and smiled as she headed for the door. She was just reaching for the doorknob when he knocked softly. She frowned even as she turned the knob, wondering why Pater would knock when she knew the lock was coded with his handprint. She pulled the door open, confused when she saw that, although the man standing in front of her was wearing Pater’s hat, it was not Pater. The unfamiliar figure drew back his arm, but a loud, deep roar from behind her caused her to quickly turn toward the source of the sound. She felt a sharp pinch, then a jerk, as Tiny leaped into the air and flew past her in a blur. She heard a strangled yell, then a thump. She was struggling to sort through the confusion and make sense of what was happening when a flood of warmth caught her attention. She looked down, surprised to see that her shoulder, chest and arm were bright red with something that was spreading so quickly she heard it dripping on the floor. She hoped that whatever it was didn’t get all over her new book. Then darkness closed in and she thought no more.

  Garen frowned. The entire incident was, indeed, very strange, but he couldn’t imagine what it might mean. Loggia was still weeks away from Jasan, but what if he had once again ordered someone to grab Lariah? Just as he opened his mouth to begin giving Faron orders, he heard a faint, low sound in the distance. From the expression on his face, Faron heard it as well.

  Before the sound had begun to fade both men were racing for the barn door, transforming as they ran. Garen leapt through the doorway and into the air as his wings were still forming. Within seconds his 25 foot long dracon form with its 30 foot wing span was speeding toward the house. Below him, Faron’s massive loboenca raced flat out in his wake, moving so fast his gigantic paws barely seemed to touch the ground.

  Garen roared his fear and fury into the sky as he flew, knowing that Trey and Val would hear and understand that they needed to get to the house as quickly as possible. Another long, low howl rent the air, filled with unmistakable, unbearable sorrow, and Garen felt his heart begin to break. He strained his magic to aid him, flying faster than he ever had before, covering the mile and a half distance between the barn and the house in just under a minute.

  Garen’s sharp dracon eyes barely recognized the male lying on the front step, noting with both regret and satisfaction the gaping hole below his chin where his throat had once been. Regret that he himself could not kill the man; satisfaction that the manner of his death indicated he had certainly seen his former pet leaping for his throat, and had certainly suffered a painful and bloody death.

  He transformed back to human form as he landed, passing the body on the ground without a glance. Suddenly he stopped, turning back to look at the dead man, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. The once portl
y figure of Tiny’s former owner was now extremely thin and haggard, but it was the same man, Garen was certain of it. But he didn’t smell right.

  Garen turned back toward the house. All that mattered right now was Lariah, and the scent of her blood had him gritting his teeth against a blood-rage. Lariah needed him. Nothing else mattered.

  He stepped through the open door, and knelt down beside Tiny. The huge dog was laying full length next to Lariah, his head on his paws, huge tears rolling down his face. Garen took a moment to place his hand gently on the grieving dog’s head, and murmur his heartfelt thanks even as he sent a soothing thread of magic into him to ease his distress. If not for the dog, Lariah would certainly be dead. As it was, her injury looked very bad, but at least she still breathed.

  Garen examined Lariah with his eyes first, assessing the situation. The black handle of the knife sticking out of her flesh between her shoulder and collarbone was an assault on his senses. He wanted nothing more than to rip it out, but he knew that could cause more harm than good so he clenched his fists and left it. He looked up at the sound of footsteps, and met the wide, shock filled eyes of his housekeeper.

  “Suly, call Doc. Tell him that Lariah has been attacked and we need him.”

  Suly nodded her head, spun around and raced for the vox. He heard her yelling to Doc, and knew from the response that the man would be there as quickly as possible. He then heard the staccato sound of Faron’s racing paws as he approached the house, then silence as he transformed back to his human form. He considered telling Faron there was something wrong with Frith’s scent, remembered that Faron had spent more time with the human than he had, and set that matter aside.

  Garen placed one hand on Lariah’s forehead and let his senses reach out to her. He knew he couldn’t do much for her, but he needed to see for himself that she was still there.

  He sensed that the knife had cut something vital, which explained the large amount of blood on both Lariah and the floor, though she didn’t seem to be bleeding too heavily at the moment. He sent his magic into her, trying to relax her body and slow her heart rate down in an effort to slow the blood loss further. It was all he could do.

  He looked up as Val and Trey arrived, their faces revealing the same mix of feelings he felt. Shock. Rage. Fear.

  “How in the hell did this piece of garbage get here?” Trey demanded, his voice rough, more dracon than man. “I thought he was kicked off the planet weeks ago.”

  “I don’t know yet,” Garen responded. “I think that there is a lot more to this than it appears. Faron will figure it out. Doc is on his way. Call Riata and tell her we need her here as fast as she can possibly make it.”

  Trey stepped back as he activated his vox and began snapping orders to whoever was handling the council’s vox center.

  “That’s Pater’s ground-truck out front, and his hat on the ground,” Val pointed out.

  Garen nodded, his fingers lightly stroking Lariah’s temples. “He called down to the barn a while ago, said he was going in to pick up some flowers he’d ordered for Lariah. Said they came in early. I’m afraid he’s either dead or injured. Ask Faron if he can get someone to go try and find him.”

  Val nodded and bent down to stroke Tiny’s head. “Good boy Tiny,” he said softly. “Don’t worry, we won’t let her go.” Val stood and turned toward the door, barely avoiding a collision with Doc who came bursting in at the same time, a black satchel in his hands.

  Doc froze for a long moment as he took in the scene. “Ah hell,” he said softly as he stepped around Tiny, passed behind Garen and knelt on the floor on Lariah’s other side, knowing that neither the dog nor the man would move for anyone or anything. He opened his satchel, pulled out a few instruments and began examining Lariah. Val and Trey came back inside, and all three of them waited impatiently, but quietly, until Doc finished and sat back on his heels.

  Doc looked at Garen and jerked his head toward the door before standing up and stepping around Lariah’s motionless form.

  “Val, Trey, take our places here,” Garen said as he reluctantly rose to his feet to follow Doc outside. Doc paused in the doorway and pinned Val and Trey with a hard stare. “Don’t you let her move, not one single bit,” he told them sternly. He waited for both men to acknowledge his warning before stepping outside, Garen right behind him.

  Garen was mildly surprised to see several figures milling around the body on the ground just outside the door. He didn’t bother to stop or try to identify any of them. He was too intent on Doc and what he had to say to care about anything else at the moment. Doc walked far enough away that they at least at a semblance of privacy before he turned to face Garen and spoke without preamble.

  “The knife is embedded in her brachial artery. It’s almost completely severed. She’s losing blood internally around the blade, but the blade itself is blocking it enough to keep her from bleeding out. If we remove the knife, she will bleed to death before I can get in there and repair the artery. She’s already lost too much blood to risk it. I can’t open her up here to fix it. It’s not sterile and I’m no surgeon and I don’t have the equipment. Even if I could, there is no time. There sure as heck isn’t enough time to get her to a Healer, even if I wasn’t afraid that moving her the slightest bit would jostle that knife enough to finish the job.”

  “We have to save her Doc,” Garen said. “There is no choice in this.”

  Doc sighed and nodded his head. “I know, but there is only one thing I can think of that might work, and I’m sorry, but even that is a mighty big might.”

  “Tell me,” Garen ordered.

  Doc met Garen’s eyes straight on. “I gotta ask you a personal question,” Doc said. “You know my history, know I’m aware of many things about your people that most are not.”

  Garen bowed his head solemnly, placing his right hand over his heart without conscious thought.

  Doc acknowledged the gesture with a short nod and gruffly cleared his throat.

  “I have seen the three of you with Lariah, and I know you all care for her. My question is, do you love her, and if you do, do you intend to make her your wife?”

  Garen was surprised. If anyone other than Doc had asked that question at this time, in this situation, he would have been furious. But he knew Doc, and he knew the man would have a good reason for the question.

  “We love her, and she will always be ours,” he replied, not exactly answering the question. Doc studied him shrewdly. After a long moment he nodded his head.

  “If you intend to make her your wife, then I’m hoping that you have some of that potion here that will kick start the mating ritual, because honestly, that is the only thing I can think of that will save her. And Garen, that little lady in there is worth saving.”

  Garen blinked in surprise. “Explain please,” he said shortly.

  “If that was you in there with that knife in that position, I would very slowly, very carefully slide the knife out, bit by bit. And it would work because you are Jasani. You have an extremely high rate of tissue regeneration. So long as I moved the knife slowly enough, in small enough increments, your body would heal the artery within moments of the blade being moved out of the way. The blood loss wouldn’t matter as your body would regenerate what you needed almost as quickly as it was lost.”

  Garen stilled, his mind racing, assimilating the information Doc had given him, examining and discarding possible solutions at lightening speed. In seconds he determined that Doc was correct.

  “What you don’t know is that she is our Arima,” Garen said softly. “And we do not need the potion as our mating fangs descended the moment we first scented her.”

  Doc thought about that for a moment, his brain working nearly as quickly as Garen’s. “Damn,” he said. “Well, that certainly explains why you’ve waited.” Doc hung his head for a moment in thought. When he looked back up at Garen there was sympathy in his eyes.

  “I don’t think there is a choice now,” he said. “It’s the on
ly chance she has.”

  Garen nodded slowly. “We can’t let her die,” he said.

  “No, you can’t,” Doc agreed.

  “We will need to complete the ritual within 24 hours of completing the first stage,” Garen said. “Will she be strong enough for that?”

  “If this works as we hope, I believe so. But either way, there is no other choice.”

  “Thank you Doc,” Garen said.

  Doc shook his head. “Don’t thank me yet son,” he said. ‘Let’s see if this will work first.”

  Garen put one hand on the man’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “Thank you Doc, for loving Lariah. Thank you for finding a way to save her life. Even if it does not work, it at least is a chance.”

  Doc swallowed hard and patted Garen’s hand. “Let’s do this, and let’s make this work.”

  Garen turned and went back into the house. He explained the situation to Trey and Val quickly. They did not like it any more than he did, but they also recognized it was their only chance to save Lariah. Trey knelt beside Tiny and reached for Lariah’s left hand, not even trying to move the dog from her side. He raised Lariah’s wrist to his mouth and kissed it tenderly. Val knelt on the other side of her and lifted her right wrist to his mouth and, like Trey, kissed it gently. Garen lay down so that his head was next to Lariah’s. He pulled her long hair away from her neck, whispered his love for her softly into her ear, and then positioned his mouth.

  He focused a moment, eyes closed, until he felt his mating fangs extend. He opened his eyes and glanced at his brothers. They nodded to him, their fangs extended, their mouths ready at the tender skin of Lariah’s wrists. Garen closed his eyes again, and, as gently as he could, he sank his mating fangs into Lariah’s neck and began injecting her with his serum. Val and Trey sank their mating fangs into her wrists at the exact same moment, injecting their serum at the same time. They waited motionless, patient, until instinct told them enough. At the exact same moment, without even thinking about it, they all removed their fangs and licked the tiny wounds in her skin, their saliva primed to heal for those first few seconds after their serum was injected.