Day of the Dragon

by Katie MacAlister

  “If the leaf is correct, then it is worthless. The two parts of the medallion are lost to time.” His lips twisted in a wry grimace. “It is nothing but a fairy story, as I have said all along.”

  “You don’t understand,” I said, taking his hand. “I don’t think you have the piece of the Raisa Medallion.”

  “Good. Because I would know if I possessed such a thing.”

  I leaned forward to kiss one corner of his mouth. “My love, I think you are the part of the medallion.”

  He gawked at me until he realized what he was doing, and evidently decided that men who lead a tribe of rogue dragons shouldn’t gawk so outright. “I would say you’ve had too much sun, but clearly, that isn’t so, thus I must conclude your mind is still muddled by my lovemaking skill. Since this is right and proper in a mate, I will not chastise you for allowing your imagination to get the better of you, and instead urge you to put it to better uses, like ways you can torment and torture me with your hands and mouth and breasts and hips. And all your other bits.”

  “Stop distracting me with smutty thoughts,” I told him, my fingers unable to keep from stroking down his arm to where his nearest hand sat relaxed on his knee. I was distracted for a moment by the knowledge that I could touch him whenever I wanted. I could just walk up to him and put my hands on him, and he would accept my right to do so. Or would he? A worry struck me. He obviously enjoyed me touching him when we were in private, but had he done so while we were around other people? I couldn’t think of any show of affection that he had conducted while others were present. Perhaps he didn’t care to have me touching him outside of sex. “If you were standing in that bar where I saw you with Sparkle Bosom Catriona, wearing that same silk shirt that you wore that night, surrounded by all the beautiful people who are always found there mingling and chatting and being gorgeous, and I came up to you and put my hand on your chest, what would you do?”

  “Are you likely to do that?” he asked, making the little morsel of worry in my stomach grow.

  “I…I might,” I said slowly, wondering if I had made a colossal mistake. Had I misjudged Archer’s personality so greatly? He professed what amounted to love for me, and Lord knew I was now so madly in love with him that being near him made my brain go all squirrely, but had I underestimated just what his appearance had done to his ego for all those centuries?

  “Then I would most likely take you by the hips that you deliberately use to taunt me, and kiss you until your fingertips lit on fire.”

  I looked at him, searching his lovely, pale eyes.

  “Flower,” he said, putting an arm around me and pulling me up against his side, “I will be glad when the day arrives that you finally get over my face.”

  “Oh, that day will never come,” I told him, leaning into his chest, the worry in my gut dissolving as his heat soaked into my soul. “I just wondered if you minded if I touch you when we’re around other people.”

  “I am doing something wrong if you do not know that I encourage you to touch me when and where you desire. Go to the far end of the room.”

  He stood up, gesturing toward the corner.

  I looked in confusion at him, startled by the abrupt change in conversation. “What? Why?”

  “Because you are not yet a member of the storm tribe. Your recognition by the tribe as such was supposed to happen an hour ago, but we will reschedule, and then you will be safe. Until that time, stand in the corner. Take the rug with you, and use it as a blanket.”

  “Okay, see, this is the sort of command situation I mentioned.”

  “Thaisa.” The look he bent on me was one that warned he would tolerate no bandying of wits. Since he stood before the door, I assumed he was going to attempt to open it and decided that I would be stupid to not heed his warning. Accordingly, I dragged the heavy rug over to the far corner and hoisted it up protectively as a barrier.

  “Are you going to try to burn it down?”

  “No.” He strapped the back scabbard on, slid the sword into place, and after a moment’s thought, slung a quiver over his arm, as well as the bow. He held his hands out, palms facing the door. “The only reason I am not outright dismissing your deduction that I am myself part of the Raisa Medallion is because of this.”

  “Because of wha—” I started to ask, then gasped when there was a sensation of the air drawing in on itself, just like it was pulling to one point. The hairs on my arms stood on end, the room suddenly becoming charged with static. Archer stood facing the door, his head bowed, his hands held out in front of him, palms toward the door. I could feel his fire from where I stood across the room, but there was something else present, a prickly feeling that wasn’t fire. To my amazement, Archer didn’t blast the door with fire; instead, static started to form on his arms, rolling down them to his hands, little tendrils of electricity twisting and snapping off his flesh. It was like he was in the middle of a Van de Graaff generator, the white-blue tendrils charging the air until it left me wanting to scream.

  “Cover your ears,” Archer yelled, gathering the electricity into his hands. A scant second after I complied, he released the power, the sound of it slamming into the door, obliterating it with an explosion that knocked me off my feet against the wall. I saw stars, actual pinpricks of light dancing before my bedazzled eyes while I slumped groggily, but then Archer was there, pulling me to his chest, his mouth warm on me as he murmured love words in Magyar.

  “What…God’s groin, Archer! What the hell was that?”

  “I am a dragon,” he said, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me out of the room just like that was perfectly natural. I gave him full marks for being able to lift me from the ground without so much as one little grunt, but was too stunned to do more than protest feebly that I could walk.

  “I may not know a lot about dragons, but I’m willing to bet that is more than normal for you guys,” I said, another piece of the puzzle sliding into place. “But it would fall in line with someone who was part of a mythical relic of immense power. Archer, you know what this means, don’t you?”

  His jaw tightened. “I know it means that you think this is proof that my brother bears the other piece.”

  “He has dark powers,” I pointed out, smoothing my hand along his collarbone. My fingernails were on fire, but I paid them no mind. “That’s also not normal. You two are clearly some sort of superdragon, and I think that it would be a good idea to bring you together to see what happens.”

  “Whereas I think Hunter needs to be taught a lesson for locking us away,” Archer answered, an inflexible note to his voice.

  “I suspected that was going to be your attitude,” I said, kissing his jaw before demanding he put me down when he came to a staircase that led upward. “Did he do it to irritate you, or protect us?”

  “The latter.”

  “Wow. Okay. That fits, too.”

  He shot me an unreadable look. “Do not talk to anyone about your insights into the shadow tribe, Thaisa.”

  “But—”

  “No. It is not safe.”

  I bit back my objections, trusting that he had a reason for putting on the show he had clearly been manipulating for a long time. “All right. But I have a better idea than giving your brother hell for dumping us in that room. Although I have to ask—have you always been able to do electricity thing?”

  “Yes,” he said, pulling out the sword as we emerged at the top of the stairs. “Stay behind me, flower. That blast was loud enough to bring all of my brother’s tribe running.”

  “They aren’t in on it?” I asked, moving around the puzzle until it made me dizzy.

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s good, because they aren’t here.”

  He stopped and glanced back at me. “They aren’t?”

  “Nope. Hunter sent them out to guard his land when he dragged Bree and me inside. He said you were going to be sure to attack, so all his people went out to guard their land. Now I realize it was a way to get them out of the way
.”

  “He always did feel like he could do this on his own,” Archer muttered, stalking forward.

  I tried to take his hand, but he gave me a stern look, and more or less walked directly in front of me. I smiled at his back, appreciating that he wanted to keep me safe, but more, my inner voice squealed at just how dashing Archer looked holding the sword. It was like having my own medieval knight come to life.

  “Were you ever knighted?” I couldn’t help but ask. My mouth fairly watered at all the knowledge and experience that was stuffed inside that insanely gorgeous head.

  “Several times,” he answered, pausing where a hall crossed our passageway. He listened for a moment, then gestured toward the left.

  “Really? I didn’t think that was common. I thought you swore fealty to an overlord when you are knighted, and you can’t foreswear that without some pretty nasty repercussions, can you?”

  “No, but when you live over the course of several centuries, you end up swearing more than one oath of fealty.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” I said, considering that, one hand holding on to the back of his shirt. “Your overlords must have died at some point, and since you probably didn’t want anyone to know that you were a dragon, I imagine you had to go to different places and find new overlords. Were you always Sir Archer, or did you have other names?”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  The words were bellowed down the hallway to our right. Archer spun around, whipping me behind him while raising the sword in a manner that once again made Inner Thaisa squeal with delight.

  “Did you blast another wall? Bloody hell, brother! Do you know how much it costs to have these custom walls made?” Hunter appeared at the far hallway, stomping toward us with an annoyed look, his hands moving in the air as he started sketching symbols.

  “This ends now,” Archer snarled, his body tense, his dragon fire roaring to life in him. I felt a familiar tingle on my arms that meant he was starting to draw in electricity as well. “You will stop trying to do this without me!”

  “I am the master of the dark power, not you!” Hunter spat back, his expression black. “This falls to me!”

  “We do this together. There is no other way.” Archer’s voice was filled with anger and no little amount of threat.

  I narrowed my gaze on Hunter even as I heard Bree’s voice behind me.

  “Hey, we heard a big explosion. Did Archer lose his temper, or did you guys just have really good sex?”

  I glanced behind me to see Ioan and Bree racing to us, Ioan holding a sword.

  I had many things to say to them, but no time to do it. I had to stop Archer and Hunter from whatever pissing match they were engaged in.

  “Right. Insensibility spell time,” I said, pulling from my memory the sigils that went along with the spells found in the Demonitica. I didn’t have anything to draw with but decided what was good enough for Hunter might work for me. I traced the symbols in the air.

  Nothing happened.

  “Thaisa, I want you to leave. Now.” Archer shot me a glare when Ioan stopped next to him, panting slightly.

  “Oh, we are so going to have a talk about what partners means,” I told Archer, running over in my mind what I’d done wrong with the spells that Bree and I had researched that afternoon. Everything seemed right. Maybe it was the sigil?

  “Mate,” he said in a warning tone, but the brief glance he cast me was filled with fear and dread, and I realized with a pain to my heart it was fear for me, not himself. He wasn’t just posturing; he really was afraid something would happen to me.

  If I hadn’t been wholly in love with him by that point, that would have pushed me over the edge. The fact that no one had loved him, the most gorgeous of men, the most protective and warmhearted and caring man who ever lived, made me want to cry at the injustice of it all. I wanted to scream at the people who should have been there for him and who weren’t and to make him understand just how vital he was to my life.

  I leaned into him, saying softly so only he heard, “I’m not going anywhere, Archer. We’re in this together, you and I, and no one is going to separate us. Ever. But I agree that this does need to end now…just not by beating up Hunter.”

  “You can’t deny that he deserves it.”

  “Really?” I kissed his adorable jaw. “I think he’s just off balance, as you are.”

  The look he shot me was one of outrage.

  “But we can fix it,” I continued. “We can fix Hunter. We can end whatever is going on between you two and bring the balance that your parents wanted.”

  I could sense that he wanted to argue, but with Hunter stalking toward us trailing black symbols that I knew he was using to weave some spell, Archer dragged his attention from me to that of his brother.

  “Trying this insensibility spell again.” I bit my lip as I sketched the symbols in the air.

  “I am done with this,” Hunter said, stopping ten feet before us, his hands still moving. His eyes had gone dark green, and for a moment, I had a weird sensation looking at the strange eyes in Archer’s face. Even his voice had gone rough, making it almost identical to Archer’s. “You will not leave us be, will you? All we want is to be left alone in peace, but you won’t rest until we’re destroyed. And they call me the demon. You, brother, are more like our father than I could ever be.”

  I looked from him to Archer, not understanding. Archer had all but admitted that the war between them was all a show. He didn’t fear his brother, didn’t really want him dead, and yet now Hunter was speaking as if they really were the bitterest of enemies? Maybe he’d gone mad.

  “Do not attempt to distract us with lies,” Archer said, his voice low and deep and ugly, but once again, there was no sense of his dragon fire. It was a show. It had to be a show. But why? For who?

  There were only the two brothers and Bree and me…My gaze swiveled over to where Ioan stood.

  “It is you who will not let the storm dragons live in peace. You spread death and destruction wherever you go, and I will not suffer your presence on this earth any longer. My tribe will be safe at long last.”

  “Bree,” I whispered.

  “Hmm? Wow, is Hunter drawing the spell I think he’s drawing? That’s going to punch a hell of a hole through Archer if he actually casts it. I’m not absolutely sure if Archer can come back from that one.”

  “What is this madness?” Hunter stopped casting his spell in order to look scornfully at his brother. “Why do you deny what you truly are? Is it because you do not wish for your woman to know the true depths of your darkness?”

  “Two things. First, why is my spell not working? Second, what’s it going to take to stop this?” I asked Bree out of the side of my mouth.

  “My mate knows what is in my heart,” Archer said quietly, and I knew I had about ten seconds before things came to a head.

  Bree glanced at my wrist. “The answer to both is that you are not Saule.”

  “Saul? Who…” It took me a moment to realize that she meant saule, the Proto-Baltic word for the sun. I shook my head, wondering if she’d gone loopy again. “Of course I’m not the sun.”

  Miles dashed around the corner behind Hunter, skidding to a stop when he saw us standing in the intersection of hallways.

  “I can’t help you any more than I have,” Bree said, shaking her head and stepping back. “I broke the rules as it is.”

  “What rules? What help?” I asked when Archer snarled a few choice words at the sight of Miles. Ioan raised his sword, like he was readying himself for an attack.

  I thought furiously, feeling there was something just beyond my understanding, some clue that was dangling out of my reach.

  Archer was Sagittarius. Hunter was Orion. The leaf said the two must be brought together to rebalance the world, but they were here, together, ten feet apart, and the only thing that was going to happen was making Ioan think they wanted each other dead.

  The sun…I dug out of my
memory a star chart and realized with dawning enlightenment that Orion and Sagittarius were roughly on the opposite side of the chart, with the sun in the center.

  “Saule!” I shouted, and scrabbled in the bag that was strapped across my torso, digging through it wildly so that things spilled out onto the floor. “Archer, don’t you dare kill your brother! I think I figured it out…Damn, I have a lot of crap in my purse…Hang on, don’t you two do anything more. Miles, don’t let Hunter finish drawing that sigil. Really? I bought those cough drops two winters ago…I have got to clean out my purse more often…Aha!” I pulled from the remains of the items in my purse a tattered woven friendship bracelet, the one with the thin disc with the sun scratched on it. “Saule!”

  “Thaisa, stay back,” Archer snarled. “You cannot bring us together no matter what the leaf said.”

  “I can! That’s just it. Listen to me, both of you.” I shot Hunter a look as I slipped the bracelet onto my wrist. He ignored me and drew another symbol.

  “Oh, you did not just do that. Hairy wart fingers!” I yelled, drawing the three symbols that Bree had taught me.

  Hunter yelped and shook his hand as if it had been stung. He stared first at his fingers, then at me. “Stop it! That hurt!”

  I wanted to move between Archer and Hunter but suspected Archer would have a hissy fit over that, so instead I moved in front of him, my body turned to the side so I could see the others but still keep my hands on his chest. Archer growled and tried to move me, but I clutched his shirt and refused to budge. “I know how to fix the broken medallion.”

  “Did you see what she did?” Hunter showed his hand to Miles. “That was my spell hand, too. Does that look like a wart growing? Now what the hell am I going to do?”

  Miles made a face. “Maybe stop pissing her off?”

  “Mate—” Archer tried to move me to his side again.

  “I think maybe Ioan should take Bree out,” Miles said, looking meaningfully at Archer.

  Ioan looked disappointed.