Dancer Dragon: Bodyguard Shifters #6

by Chant, Zoe

  "Heikon."

  Braun's resonant voice was the same as it had always been, familiar since childhood. They'd been close, once. It was for the sake of that long-ago bond that Heikon had let him live, unable to bear the death of the younger brother who had once followed him everywhere. He had taught Braun to fly. Together they had explored the mountains, gotten into mischief, driven their mom crazy.

  And then we grew up.

  He rose to Braun's level, surprised by the lack of attack, but then Braun trumpeted out in a ringing voice that must have been heard by everyone for miles around: "Heikon, I challenge you for leadership of the clan."

  "Well, it's about damn time," Heikon shot back. After all of this, an ordinary challenge was a relief. The duels weren't common anymore, but they had been a well accepted way of settling disputes once.

  A challenge. This he could deal with.

  "Be careful, my love." It was Esme's dragon's fluting voice. He looked down and saw that she'd shifted and gotten Reive onto her back. "You don't know he won't try to cheat."

  Everything in Heikon cried out against the accusation. A duel was a matter of honor. Even Braun wouldn't violate that!

  But then he looked across the space between them at Braun hovering against the sky, great black and green wings beating heavily. Braun had tried to take control of the clan by gathering a cabal against him and then trying to murder him. Of course he'd cheat, if he got the chance.

  The only reason he was willing to risk a duel at all was because he no longer had the support in the clan that he once had. If he won a duel and gained the clanlordship fairly, or at least appeared to, they would have to accept him.

  "We will need observers to ensure fairness," Heikon told Braun.

  "Stalling! Delays!"

  "You attacked my family," Heikon retorted. "I am well within my rights to demand this. You can have observers too if you like."

  "I need none," Braun replied loftily.

  "Esme, my love, I hate to ask this of you ..." He would rather have almost anyone else, in truth, because he did not want her to have to watch. But there was no one else available, and no one he trusted as he did her.

  "Of course," she called back. "Let me get Reive comfortable. How about the beach?"

  "The beach sounds perfect."

  "Your 'observers' had better not intervene on your behalf, Heikon," Braun told him.

  "What do you take me for?! I, unlike you, am not a cheater."

  They flew down to the beach and landed on the white sand. Hard to believe that not so long ago, the family had been enjoying themselves here in the surf and the sun.

  Heikon looked around and saw Esme glide down to land nearby.

  "How's Reive?" he called.

  She settled herself on the sand, remaining in her dragon form, her wings half-mantled above her. "It's hard to say. Kana is taking care of him. Now that the gargoyles are no longer a threat, Gunnar has gone in search of medical help for him and Melody."

  The reminder of Melody stabbed him with guilt. Of course Esme would rather be with her pregnant daughter at this important moment.

  "Yes, but I also want to be with you," she said, as if reading his mind. "Melody is in good hands. Gunnar will fetch the Panagapolouses, who have lived on this island for generations. They will be able to bring a shifter doctor or midwife."

  Braun rustled his wings impatiently. "Enough of these delays. Get on with it!"

  "You are entitled to observers as well," Heikon told him politely.

  "I need none! I don't need an audience to watch me tear you to shreds."

  What this told Heikon was that Braun had no more allies. He'd been helped out by a lone, disaffected gargoyle, and that was it. Even if Braun won here today, he might still lose. He would have to stand against the clan and convince them that he was their leader by right. Heikon had a feeling that he'd be going up against formidable resistance, from Anjelica and their mom in particular. Not to mention Esme.

  But we won't let him win, Heikon's dragon announced with rock-solid certainty.

  Heikon opened his jaws and roared out his challenge. Braun answered it. As one, they launched from the sand and swept toward each other, clashing together in a great flurry of wings and flying claws.

  It had been a very long time since he'd been in a real fight against an equally matched opponent. He felt searing pain as Braun's claws ripped through the delicate membrane of his wing. But he scored a hit too, raking his teeth down Braun's neck. They broke apart and circled each other, panting, leaving blood in the white sand.

  Braun had been overconfident too, Heikon thought. Now they were both much more cautious. Around and around they went, jockeying for an angle.

  He wished Esme wasn't here. He kept wanting to look over at her, even knowing he didn't dare take his attention from the battle for an instant. Anyway, Esme would be the first to tell him to keep his eyes on his business. He could almost hear her in his head, scolding him, and he found himself smiling.

  "What are you smiling about?" Braun demanded.

  "Just thinking about what I'm fighting for," he replied. "It's why I'm going to win, because I have something to fight for and you don't."

  Braun roared and lunged, driven from his caution by fury. His onslaught drove Heikon back, and for a moment the entire world vanished in snapping jaws, slashing claws, and the necessity of throwing every atom of his attention into blocking Braun's charge before his brother's teeth could sink into his neck. Anger often bred carelessness, but in Braun's onslaught of vicious fury, Heikon couldn't find an edge. He ended up striking out with his wings, beating his way off from the sand in an attempt to gain some altitude and get an advantage.

  "Running away, huh?" Braun accused, flapping heavily after him. "I might have known you'd be a coward once you started losing!"

  "Losing, am I?"

  Heikon dove at him, slamming into him. They twisted and struggled in midair, spinning around and around. Braun's teeth were latched into his shoulder agonizingly, but Heikon got his own jaws on one of Braun's wings. He twisted, and Braun's wing snapped.

  Braun let go with a scream. Still tangled together, they both flew in a wobbly, downward trajectory and crashed into the rocky ground on the clifftops above the beach. Heikon let go and they both tumbled end over end before picking themselves up.

  Braun looked bad. One of his wings trailed in the dust and he was holding up a foreleg, trying not to put weight on it. But Heikon knew he didn't look any better. Blood kept dripping in his eyes, and there was a ringing in his ears; he'd hit his head when they fell. Whenever he moved he could feel hot blood trickling from the wounds that Braun had torn open in his scaly hide.

  "It doesn't have to be like this," he said as they limped around each other. Braun's head was held low and flat, bloody fangs displayed, like a vicious dog looking for a chance to bite. "Come back to me, brother. We could be allies again."

  "The only thing I want from you is your death!"

  Braun lunged, but the dragging wing threw him off. He clawed Heikon down the side, but Heikon got a good slash in at his other wing, and now that one was dragging too.

  Braun was losing. And Heikon could see that realization dawning in his eyes.

  "Don't make me do this, Braun."

  "I will not lose to you!"

  Another feint; another lunge. They were both panting; the rocks were splattered with blood. But Heikon felt a surge of renewed energy, even with blood running into his eyes and his entire body a mass of hurt. He was going to win, one way or another.

  "You're losing, Braun. Surrender to me. We'll work something out."

  "I'd rather die," Braun snarled, and he backed a couple of steps away and worked his jaws, opening and closing his mouth.

  Heikon stared at him. He had no idea what Braun was doing. And then he figured it out. There was something hidden in Braun's mouth, tucked into his cheek.

  Taking things with you through a shift was hard—normally everything you carried would
be tucked away along with your clothes until you shifted back—but you could do it. Anything carried or worn on Braun's person would have been easily spotted during the fight. But not something hidden in his mouth.

  But what was it?

  And then the smell hit him, along with the incredibly careful way Braun was holding it on his tongue.

  There was a packet of essence of dragonsbane in his mouth, the concentrated poison that would kill what it touched.

  Braun's energy was clearly flagging, but he had enough for one last charge. With a tremendous effort, he lifted his broken wings, mantled them over his back, and charged.

  Heikon realized instantly that if Braun managed to score a hit on him this time, he would die. They would both probably die, but apparently Braun was willing to risk it. Even a graze might do it. Dodging was too risky.

  So instead, Heikon went straight into the charge. Braun clearly was not expecting that. As Braun dove in for the kill, Heikon ducked his head under Braun's chin and then snapped it up.

  He was only trying to deflect Braun, but Braun's teeth snapped together and the smell of the poison was suddenly eye-searingly intense.

  But Heikon had also exposed his own soft throat, the underside of his chest. Braun lashed out with his great claws in a final spasm and tore through Heikon's neck, ripping open his throat.

  Heikon fell to the ground, wheezing. His mouth filled with blood. He couldn't breathe.

  Through dimming vision, he saw Braun, near him, shudder once and then lie still, a victim of his own treachery.

  But Heikon was starting to realize that his own victory had come too late. He'd lost too much blood, and as he lay struggling for air, the world began to close in on him, darkness flooding to blot out everything.

  The last thing he sensed was the frantic touch of Esme's mind on his. And then she was gone too, along with everything else.

  Esme

  *Heikon!*

  She had followed them up to the top of the cliffs and now she flew to him, shifting as she touched down. She spared barely a glance for Braun's body, all her attention on Heikon and the blood surrounding him, covering him.

  "Heikon," she begged. "Heikon!"

  She dropped to her knees beside him, groping desperately under his jaw for a pulse. She couldn't feel anything. His eyes were half open. He didn't seem to be breathing.

  Had he taken any of the dragonsbane? Enough to poison him? Enough to kill him? She couldn't tell.

  "Heikon," she sobbed.

  How could her happy future be dangled in front of her, only to be snatched away?

  "Heikon!"

  She bowed her head against his neck, heedless of the blood soaking into her dress and her long hair, and then she felt something fall forward and click lightly against his scales.

  The necklace he'd given her.

  Wherever these seeds are, Esme, I'm there too, and as long as these seeds survive, I will live.

  Could he possibly mean ...?

  The Heart of a dragon's hoard was not normally that powerful. But Heikon's hoard was special. It was made up of green growing things. And he'd already appeared to die and then come back once, like a tree in the winter. She had thought Braun looked dead once before, too. Things were not always what they appeared.

  With shaking, blood-sticky hands, she cracked open the locket. The seeds fell into her hands. She didn't know what to do with them, but they seemed warm to the touch, perhaps only from her skin.

  It was a miracle she was groping after, but right now, that was the only hope she had. The only hope he had.

  "Heikon," she whispered. Seeds went in the ground, didn't they? She pressed the seeds into the earth under him, watered with his blood. Two of them she kept back.

  "I hope this helps, my love," she whispered shakily. "I don't know what I'm doing."

  She pushed one of them into his mouth, between the half-open jaws, past the still tongue. She held the other for a moment, and then quickly swallowed it.

  It wasn't much fun, swallowing a cherry stone. She felt it go down in a hard lump.

  Then she waited, trembling. Was she supposed to do more? Tears flooded her eyes. She had tried.

  "I don't know what else to do," she wailed.

  And then there was ... something. A change.

  It wasn't in Heikon. He still didn't move, didn't breathe. It was in her. Something tickling the back of her mind, something she hadn't felt in a very long time.

  She pushed at it, clawed at it.

  The mate bond.

  It was still there. Or maybe it was there again, a bond they had made, born from love and quickened with Heikon's blood and her own renewed grief.

  The Heart couldn't bring a dragon back if they had already died. But the mate bond sometimes could. Or, at least, if Heikon was still alive, even a little bit, it was possible for one mate to support the other's faltering strength using their own. And if she could feel the mate bond, then he wasn't dead. Not quite. Not yet.

  Here was her miracle, at her fingertips.

  She reached for it with everything in her, poured herself into it. Help me! she cried at her dragon, and felt it clawing with her, lending its strength to hers.

  And suddenly she felt that corridor spring wide open. Everything that had once been there was there again.

  She could feel him. Feel his faltering heartbeat, feel the weak stirrings of his breath. Feel his love for her, underneath it all.

  Our mate! her dragon cried, its inner voice torn by shock and grief. Our mate is here. Our mate is dying!

  No! she thought back. We won't allow it!

  "Heikon," she gasped, and she laid her hands on him, and her head on him, and she put everything she had, all her strength, all her love, into keeping him there, holding him with her so he couldn't slip away before help got there.

  "I'm not going to let you go," she sobbed into his scaly skin. Her dragon was with her; they were, at last, fully united in their sense of purpose. "I let you go once. Not again. Not ever again."

  Very dimly, she was aware of footsteps, of other people around her, but she didn't become aware of her surroundings again until hands were on her, trying to pull her away.

  "No!" she cried, pushing back.

  "Esme," said a voice, and Esme looked up, unable to believe for a moment that they were here.

  Her parents?

  "Esme," her mother said again, kneeling beside her. Shocked, she looked around. Kana was there too, and a couple of the Panagapolous family, all of them looking very short and out of place among the tall, red-haired Lavignas. She hadn't seen this much of her clan together in one place in years.

  "What are you doing here?" she managed to get out as her clan's healers descended on Heikon.

  "Your boyfriend's clan called us," her mother said, going to one knee beside her. "They'd been trying to reach you, couldn't get through, and worried that you might need some help. And we were, after all, not that far away. Not across an ocean, at any rate."

  "And you're here," she said dizzily. With great reluctance, she allowed herself to be drawn away from Heikon, her fingers trailing across his scales. "Will he be all right, Mother?"

  "No one can say for certain, dear heart." Her mother was cool and reserved as always, but she put an arm around Esme without seeming to care for the blood soaking her clothes. "But we have the very best physicians. And we arrived for the last of the fight, so we saw how strong he is. We will care for your boyfriend as if he were one of our own."

  "Boyfriend ..." No. That word was wrong. Far too shallow, too crass. "Mate. He's my mate."

  "Oh." It came out on a breath. "Well. No effort or cost shall be spared, then. If it is possible for him to live, daughter, then he will live."

  Esme turned her face into her mother's neck, inhaling the smell of the perfume that had always meant childhood to her. And knowing he was in good hands, knowing he would never be farther away than the mate bond, she relaxed into her mother's arms and let someone else carry the load f
or a while.

  Heikon

  Heikon dragged himself slowly out of sleep. He had the foggy sense that he'd been asleep for some time. He felt heavy, as if his body was a weight trying to drag him back down. He struggled through it, waking further, and became aware that there were bandages on his throat and chest and ... basically everywhere, actually.

  *Heikon?*

  Esme's presence was so warm and immediate, her voice so near, that he turned his head to the side, expecting to find her with him in the bed. She wasn't, but he could still feel her, and that was when he realized why.

  *The mate bond?*

  *It's back,* Esme confirmed.

  The door opened and she came in, skimming across the floor with her light dancer's grace. Her hair was braided down her back, and she was dressed for slightly cooler weather, in a long green skirt and a matching shirt with a row of tiny buttons up the front that almost begged to be undone.

  He didn't recall that outfit in her luggage, and in fact, looking around, he didn't think he'd ever seen this room in his life. The bed was an enormous antique with a white bedspread. Everything in the room was dark polished wood with white and gold accessories—understated, tasteful, and expensive-looking. The window was open, with lacy white curtains fluttering in a cool breeze. The scents that drifted in were lush and wild, grass and pine trees and, unexpectedly, cows. This definitely wasn't the villa in Greece.

  Esme sat on the bed beside him and brushed her hand through his hair.

  "Where are we?" he asked weakly.

  "We're at my clan's home. Switzerland. We brought you back here after you were hurt."

  Things were falling back into place, one fragment at a time. "Braun is dead, isn't he?"

  "He's dead," she confirmed. "Definitely, undoubtedly dead this time. He tried to kill you by treachery and ended up killing himself instead." The corner of her mouth twisted, not a smile, more like a fierce grimace. It was an expression that was more suited to a dragon's features than a human's. "A poetic end for one who lived by treachery. I am sorry, though. I know he was family."

  "I did nothing I regret." He rested his head against her leg, and she continued to smoothly stroke his hair. He felt that he could lie here forever. "The mate bond. It's back. How?"