Fianna’s dual nature stirred in response to a very faint, “yes.” Abbie clearly had no idea that her inner self reached out to Fianna’s. Caught in a dream spell, Fianna hesitated, unable to take her eyes off Abbie’s lips. Her Dracan instincts threatened a lusty takeover, and Fianna whimpered with conflicted needs. The moon had risen to full height in a black sky, and the forest was flooded with brilliant lunar light. Magic. The sanctuary overflowed with aroused shape-shifter sensuality. “Yes,” she heard again.
Fianna tried to make her muscles move, and nothing happened. Spellbound in truth. She heard Abbie’s indrawn breath like an invitation. Excited noises in her head indicated strong approval of current actions. She stopped thinking and leaned down and pressed her lips to the outline of Abbie’s mouth. For a few seconds, Abbie’s lips softened, causing an instant of bliss, followed by utter shock when a small, hard fist shot out and punched Fianna on the cheek. Stunned and embarrassed, she slid off, reeling, onto the cold mud and leaves.
“What the fuck!” Abbie glared at her. She sat up and drew her knees in, burying her face. She started to cry, her shoulders shaking in suppressed sobs.
Misplaced anger filled Fianna. Anger and the most inappropriate lust she had ever felt. Her sister-self screamed in a deafening white noise of desire. Her Dracan nature needed to shift so badly, red-hot bands scorched her shoulder blades where wings fought to unfold.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so confused…” Abbie’s voice finally penetrated through the emotions tearing through Fianna.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me,” Fianna mumbled as she rose to her feet, weary of fighting her dual nature and more alarmed than she cared to admit. Way to go, she thought. Screwing everything up already. Yet, given a second of encouragement, she’d have Abbie on her back again. She took a few steps away and struggled for control. Did not see that one coming, she berated herself. Should have had more discipline. This is exactly what got her into trouble in the first place.
“What is it about all of you,” Abbie said in an exhausted voice. She wiped her face with her sleeve. “This… You…” She gestured at Fianna in accusation as she got to her feet. “There’s something about you. You’re so intense. You freaking scare me. And I’m not talking about what…what just happened. I know you’ve been trying to help. Everyone has. But…”
“You have nothing to fear from me, okay?” Fianna held her hands up, palms out, in the universal gesture of peace. “Can we just forget about this and start over? Look around you. You’re miles from anywhere. You have no water, food, or tent. We know the area, we can help.”
“There’s that word again,” Abbie muttered. “Help.”
“Ready to head back?”
Abbie nodded, misery etched on her face. “Just get me home in the morning.”
They crunched through the darkened woods without comment. Fianna kept a brisk pace and Abbie offered no complaints. When they got to the edge of the meadow below the cabin, Abbie stopped and clutched her side, breathing hard. “Great. Forgot about the hill.”
“You all right?”
“Depends,” Abbie said in a sullen tone. “Don’t know where I am, how I got here, or much of the past twenty-four hours. I feel like I’ve stumbled into a strange universe, like Alice down the rabbit hole. I’m having some difficulty getting to all right. ”
“I understand,” Fianna said. What could she say? “But I assure you, things are going to get better.”
“Huh.” Abbie shrugged and started trudging up the hill. “How could you know things are going to get better? That’s what I’m talking about. You are one witchy gal.”
Fianna had no idea what to say to that. Abbie repeated her words back to her with such an incredulous tone she felt like she was failing; unable to reassure their charge. Plus, the witchy comment stung, so she said nothing. Later, she vowed, she and her team would break the news to Abbie with great care and delicacy. She also needed to placate her sister-self, who remained out of sorts with her for multiple reasons. Her dragon did not get the reward she wanted for the hunt and grumpily confirmed to Fianna the shifter power in Abbie was hiding and that both sides of her were stuck in fear and confusion. Fianna fought not to croon a Dracan mother’s tongue cluck of reassurance to all of them. They crested the hill and the cabin rose into view, lights blazing out of every window.
“Have to admit,” Abbie said grudgingly, “I was kind of out of my head, taking off like that. Sorry.”
“Forget about it,” said Fianna as they reached the door. “Sorry about the kiss.” Then, against her better judgment, she winked at Abbie, who looked so startled, Fianna suppressed a grin as they walked into the cabin. This mollified her sister-self only slightly.
The mild uproar caused by their arrival took a while to settle down. Everyone finally retreated to their beds, but for a long time afterward, the Draca’s telepathic connection buzzed. Orla and Guin would settle for nothing less than complete details. Fianna sighed in resignation, told all, and braced herself for the expected reactions.
“You tackled her, sat on top of her, and then you kissed her?” Guin’s inner voice stated in dismay.
Fianna’s sister-self muttered a disgruntled assent. “Only one kiss, hardly anything.”
“Sounds like you deserved that punch.” Guin’s words floated into the telepathic link. “Where is your discipline Fianna? This could go very badly.”
“Or very, very well,” Orla quipped.
Fianna sighed inwardly. “Come on, you two, it was just a kiss. We didn’t have sex. Don’t act as if you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”
“Wouldn’t have,” said Guin’s sleepy voice, faint in the dimming mind link.
“Absolutely yes,” said Orla, and yawned.
“Can we go to sleep now?” Fianna asked the group link.
“Only if you admit you want to have sex with the dracling,” said Orla.
Fianna snorted and gave Orla a shove. “She kissed me back, you know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Go to sleep, Orla.”
a
Abbie awoke, realized where she was, and groaned. Yep, she was still down the rabbit hole.
She stretched and every muscle complained. What a workout. She hadn’t run that far in years. Her attention shot across the room to see if the witches were awake, in particular Fianna. She sat up in a rush when she realized all three of them were standing at the end of the couch, staring at her in silence. They regarded her with inscrutable looks and arms folded over their chests, as if in judgment.
“Uh, hello. Good morning?” She swung her legs out and stood up. What was with the chilly vibes? Was she in trouble for her little escape last night?
“Good morning, Abbie,” Fianna said. She gave a curious, strained half smile.
“What’s going on ladies?” Abbie said, paranoia rising. “We’re going back to Portland this morning, right?”
“Yes.” Fianna’s face was cool, her expression the opposite of how she’d been in the woods last night. Abbie’s heart started to pound. The thief’s sense of when the jig is up, gave an ominous tweak. The pocket of her sweatpants, which held the stolen amethyst from last night, warmed as she pressed her hand against her side, willing calm.
“First we need to talk,” Fianna said.
No one smiled and an air of disapproval emanated from the group. An energetic icy wall settled between them, with Abbie on one side, feeling very alone. Who knew she’d care what these witches thought? She never cared about what anyone thought.
“Abbie, we’re missing a gem from the games last night,” Fianna said. The implication was clear.
The blood rushed out of Abbie’s head with the sick realization she was busted. She thought she’d be back in Portland before anyone noticed. “What are you saying?”
“We think you know. Maybe we seem to play loosely with valuable gems. However, there’s a careful count after every game. Each of us tracks what is ours. Th
is morning, we discovered the absence of a piece.”
“Mine,” Orla said.
Deep in Abbie’s bones, the hidden, confrontational badass stirred again. She pressed her lips together, resisting the upswell of anger. Recent events seemed to indicate that anger signaled dangerous, out-of-control feelings.
Guin said, “We are quite possessive of our belongings.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure you know what that feels like.”
Abbie nodded and choked back an urge to growl. Fianna held out her hand. “You need to give it back.” Abbie squeezed her pocket. “I can’t.”
“Your conflicted feelings can be explained,” Fianna said, “in a moment. First you must return the gem.”
“I said, I can’t!” Her hand would not reach into her pocket. The evidence of her guilt under her sweaty palm inspired fury, despite her efforts to keep it together. “I did not take your stupid amethyst!”
“Yes, you did,” Fianna snapped. “How else do you know it’s an amethyst?”
Abbie flinched. Yet the jewel remained stubbornly in her pocket.
The three moved closer, within Abbie’s personal space. Their faces, so friendly before, were shuttered and cold. Abbie grabbed her head as pain shot through her temples. Fianna took another step, too close.
“Mine,” Abbie growled in a deep voice. Something primal took over and she had to obey.
“Abbie, this is not a good idea. Our kind do not take kindly to treasure being stolen.”
Abbie’s brain spun into white noise and accepted the challenge.
a
Fianna had lost control of everything. Abbie was actually growling, and the sisters-Draca were ready to forcibly blow.
“Our kind!” Abbie yelled. “What the fuck do you mean, our kind?” Low growls rolled out of her throat, and blue scales streaked in rapid succession down her neck.
Fianna knew Abbie didn’t understand the great power building in her dual nature. She reached out to soothe her, but not fast enough. Abbie’s change exploded. She shifted impossibly fast, like a dragon-balloon nightmare, violently blowing her enormous bulk into the too-small cabin. Her thick, blue tail swept Fianna off her feet and sent her crashing against the wall. Guin and Orla dove into the corners out of the way. Abbie’s huge dragon body splintered and broke everything within range. She roared, adding to the chaos, and dishes flew off the kitchen shelves, furniture splintered, and the cabin shuddered in response.
Fianna fought a sense of sick defeat as she witnessed exactly what she’d hoped to avoid. She reminded herself of the spells laid upon the cabin for protection, which also helped hold the wood together under such impact, but not for long. She inched her way across the floor on her hands and knees with determined, desperate focus. She could do this. Soothe and calm the baby dragon. She made crooning noises as she crawled.
Abbie’s sides heaved, and smoke issued in distressed bursts from her blue-and-green-scaled nose. She eyed Fianna through narrowed, suspicious, gold eyes, which gave Fianna a second of shock. Golden dragon eyes indicated Fianna’s House of Gold lineage, while Abbie’s riot of blue-green scales belonged to the House of Emerald. Nothing indicated the House of Diamond line, yet it was Marcus who claimed her? Fianna flung away the distracting thoughts and clucked her tongue like a Dracan mother, while reaching to smooth the scaled neck of the unhappy dracling. Abbie dismissed the gesture with an imperial toss of her head and growled with ragged gray puffs, yet not before Fianna caught a glimpse of such fear and bewilderment, her heart broke. Sister Draca was suffering, and Abbie didn’t have a clue. Unable to stop the motion, her hand caressed the hot scales of Abbie’s side.
Abbie roared her displeasure and suddenly unfurled her massive wings, demolishing the remains of the furniture, along with busting apart two walls of the cabin. Fianna, Guin, and Orla dove out of the house into the yard. Abbie flapped wildly and began to gain traction and lift.
They watched, with varying degrees of horror, shock, and resigned amusement, as the angry dracling rose ten feet up in the air, hovered briefly, then sank like a stone in a stupendous crash, right into the center of the remains of the house. When she hit the wreckage, the dragon shifted back with impossible speed and, as fortune would have it, Abbie came to her human self on the mattress, which had been flung into the kitchen, and promptly passed out.
Fianna, Guin, and Orla approached the ruined cabin where Abbie, unhurt, lay sleeping comfortably, oblivious to the damage around her. Guin dug out a dusty, torn blanket from the ruins and draped it over Abbie’s naked form. They stood quiet for long minutes and contemplated the scene.
“That went well,” said Guin finally. “Guess maybe we should have waited to confront her about the amethyst?”
This elicited some weak grins. Everyone was guilty of being a dragon. They couldn’t help their nature, nor stop the slow, slightly heated, admiring perusal of Abbie’s curvy backside, which irritated Fianna, and even more so because she didn’t understand why. They weren’t a jealous species unless serious mating was involved, and that certainly wasn’t the case here.
It was clear to the Draca now, that Abbie’s dual nature emitted an anxious power—fearful and shining and determined to bust out, one way or another. Shock and fear appeared to do the trick, Fianna realized. They needed to replace these dark feelings with the pure joy of her dragon nature. Teach her control and how to heal the split. The Draca sister-selves stirred and agreed, “The young shape-shifter needs to unite with her other half, of course,” they added in a chiding tone.
“Wish we weren’t so possessive of our treasure,” said Fianna, wretched with guilt and the sting of the last comment. Their very natures caused this disaster. “The gods do seem to favor our problem child, however. Delivering a mattress to catch her fall?” She shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
“Abbie’s sister-self may not be communicating too well, but good timing on the landing. Gotta give ’em that,” said Orla. “Even with the celestial mattress, if Abbie had shifted two seconds sooner, she would have missed it.”
“Like I said. The gods favor this one.” An image of Fianna’s unhappy inner dragon flashed, tail twitching and impatient. “Protect! Hunt!” Fianna shook her head. “Wait,” she insisted to her sister-self.
“This remind you of anything?” Guin asked. “Sleeps soundly through magical chaos and mayhem? Perhaps there’s a new kind of special ability emerging in the hybrid shifters.”
“At least she didn’t kill anyone,” Orla said with a snicker. “Baby draclings must be all the same, mixed species or not. No control, the poor little beasties.”
“I suppose.” Fianna huffed in frustration and tried to placate her dual nature. “I think the reason she passes out after shifting is because she’s not in sync. She needs our help merging her nature.”
What was she going to do? Fianna had never heard of anyone who shifted so fast while also being entirely clueless about their true nature. No wonder she fainted. Fianna took in the full view of the destroyed sanctuary and their confused little sister curled in the wreckage, covered in dust and bits of wood. Quite the situation she was left to sort out.
Guin bent down and then held her hand aloft in triumph. “Here you go, Orla. One amethyst, returned.” She dropped the amethyst in Orla’s outstretched hand. The other jewels had turned up in neat piles in the yard, products of magical protection.
Orla grinned. “Think she learned anything?”
Guin shook her head. “Good job on teaching her the finer points of her dragon nature, Fianna,” she drawled. “Poker—there’s a new one for the guide books.” She raised an eyebrow and gestured toward the brick rubble remains of the chimney. “She’s already showing talent in the busting-up-houses category.”
Fianna winced and threw a small pillow at Guin. “Time will tell, my sisters, whether my actions were wise or not. In the meantime, I’ll contact the Council as soon as I can get my hands on the dracophone, wherever it hid when the baby dragon hit.”
Her sto
mach sank at the thought. Would the Council yank them all home? She wanted the chance to solve the problem of the men. It would be a fantastic addition to her quest.
“Don’t forget to tell them the cabin’s in pieces,” Guin said.
“Yes, Fianna. Don’t forget,” Orla chimed in.
This was either a total disaster, or the redemption opportunity of a lifetime.
Chapter Five
Dragon Indeed
Abbie came to, staring up at the worried faces of Fianna, Guin, and Orla. She jerked upright and clutched her head, groaning. Then, she noticed she was naked, again, and that half the cabin was missing. The roof was blown away completely, and wood and bricks were scattered everywhere.
This shit has got to stop. “Am I crazy?” Her voice rose. “Seriously. What the fuck!” She staggered to her feet, gripping the blanket around her. “The Weird Box is full! I refuse to put anything else in!”
She glared at the group. They had clothes on, but everyone looked like they’d been through a war. Their faces were covered in streaks of dirt. Orla’s shirt was torn in the front. Guin’s previously immaculate outfit was filthy and her pants had a rip in the knee. Fianna appeared to have led the charge and looked the worst, with dried blood on her arms from various cuts.
No one spoke. Their faces reflected worry and concern, Fianna’s most of all. Anger Abbie didn’t understand still pumped through her body like a physical force, making her want to lash out, to punish someone. She was conscious of a breeze riffling her hair and the utter silence of the surrounding woods. Everything seemed to be holding its breath, waiting.
“Think, Abbie. Try to remember what just happened.” Fianna reached out as if to touch her. Abbie jerked away, afraid to let go of the anger. She didn’t want comfort, she wanted answers.
“You mean, remember how I came to be standing in your completely wrecked house, without any clothes on? Again?”
Fianna the Gold Page 6