“We wanted it that way.” Jace glanced over his shoulder. “And as you now know, we had another, bigger secret to protect.” He paused. “Just for the record, we are a bonded pair of male Marduko, but we’re not complete together. We’ve been waiting for a very important missing piece.”
A flash of anxiety made her shiver. Shit was getting real. “Am I going to like what’s coming next? Please tell me you don’t need to drink the blood of some female sacrifice to seal your love?”
“No.” Beau grinned and shook his head. “Devon, you’re so fucking dramatic.”
“Our Devon is an artist at heart.” Jace made a neat stack of foil MREs. “I like it.”
Devon found herself smiling at Beau’s relaxed attitude. At that moment, Jace didn’t seem threatening at all. He felt like a friend. They could be back at the office where he would typically get surrounded by people who all needed something from him. “You know what’s so weird about this situation? That crazy lady in Salem told me this was going to happen.”
“The woman who gave you the dragon egg?” Beau’s face brightened.
“Witch Casey—Cassandra—didn’t exactly give me the dragon egg. She allowed me to choose it, sight unseen, from a bag of wish stones.”
“And your hand went right to it,” Jace added eagerly. “And you knew it was your stone to claim?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I felt a moment of certainty when my fingers came close to it.”
A smile lit Jace’s face. “Devon, that’s how Beau and I feel about you. You feel like the right choice.”
“The right choice for what?” Devon hesitated. “Is Witch Casey a dragon shifter too?”
“No.” Jace shook his head and turned to face Devon. “There are no female Marduko dragons on Earth and there never have been. Witch Casey must be one of the old ones, like Merlin.”
“Old ones? What do you mean?” Devon set her fork down and reached for her camera. She clicked a gorgeous photo of Jace with his face half-hidden in shadow as he leaned away from the fire.
“There are earthlings, immortals if you want to call them that”—Jace rolled his hands through the air as he spoke—“who have walked the planet for so long they’ve seen almost everything at least once—even a Marduko dragon. Once there were many of us. We ruled kingdoms throughout Africa, Asia, Central America, and the frozen north. You know them by many names: Quetzalcoatl, Merlin, the Welsh King Vortigern, the great Naga Khan of Mongolia were all dragon men. All had human mothers and Marduko fathers.”
“And now?” Devon clicked another photo, thinking Jace with his strong profile and expressive black brows would look perfectly at home modeling in ads for luxury cars or high-end sports equipment. “Where are the other Marduko?”
Sadness drifted into Jace’s gaze. “Our generation of Marduko lives in peril. As far as we know, it’s just me and Beau.”
“How can that be?” A secret and noble race gone from the Earth? The thought deeply disturbed her. “There has to be more than just the two of you.”
“There probably are.” Beau poked at his food but did not eat it. “But the Marduko are forced to live in seclusion. It’s not safe for us to contact others or even allow them to have knowledge of us. My own parents were very protective of me. While growing up, I never met other dragons. We lived human lives apart from the Marduko community.”
It was crushing to hear about the loneliness they must have felt as children. “Why?”
Beau set his neglected foil packet down. “There are groups that have learned to exploit the Marduko psychic connection to loved ones, and often we are not allowed to even have that comforting bond. It’s safer to live in small groups with no knowledge of others, and even that’s sometimes too dangerous.”
Devon tensed. This was becoming a horror story. “How long has this been going on?”
Beau looked at the floor as he spoke in a calm but dour tone. “Your history doesn’t keep records of the many waves of persecution and extermination of our kind. The same ancient churches, royal houses, and wealthy families that benefited from the Marduko’s discreet and lethal battle skills came to fear us, and quietly began killing off our offspring before they reached adulthood. Warriors coveted our assistance while fearing we might change sides. In a world based on warfare, a dragon man was never fully trusted. How many tapestries or paintings have you seen of a medieval knight on a white horse victoriously displaying the severed head of a dragon on the end of a lance? A lot.”
The mac and cheese wasn’t sitting well, and she sensed Beau was telling the truth.
“When the bounty on a dragon’s head became too generous”—Jace’s lip curled sarcastically—“we became mythical creatures. It was safer and easier to go underground and just fade away.”
“You’re very convincing. All this is beginning to have the ring of truth, and that worries me.” Devon’s chest tightened. “It’s a shock to find out something I thought was pure fantasy might be real.”
Jace’s gaze locked on hers, and his lustrous eyes pleaded for her attention. “Just don’t close your heart to us. I beg you to listen to our story before you make up your mind.”
“I think I’m ready to learn more. I do want to understand this.” Devon cast her gaze toward the pot of steeping dragon leaf tea. “I’m crazy for saying this.” A touch of nervousness caused her to hesitate. “But is the Kool-Aid ready to drink?”
“Are you certain?” Jace reached into the duffel bag and retrieved three lightweight aluminum mugs.
“Yes.” She answered so quickly it surprised her, but then again everything inside her was screaming do it! This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and she wouldn’t dream of turning it down. “I’m already chin-deep, I might as well go in over my head.”
“So brave.” With a neutral expression, Jace scooped one of the mugs into the pot of amethyst-hued water and handed it to Devon. “We’ll all drink. The ritual has special meaning.”
Devon held the mug below her nose and gave it a gentle sniff, relieved the tea’s pleasant scent was light. It reminded her of lilac. Witch Casey had served her something similar that wasn’t too overwhelming. Maybe everything would be fine? “What’s the special meaning?”
“Drink and you’ll find out.” Jace dipped a second mug into the pot and handed it to Beau before taking a mug of tea for himself and raising it aloft. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” Devon tasted the warm tea. Its mild honeysuckle sweetness was pleasing, with a slight bitterness beneath. She found it comforting to drink any sort of tea in a cool mountain cave. Almost immediately the tea made her a little light-headed, but she dismissed that reaction as her own excitement. A shiver passed over her skin, so she drew the blanket closer around her shoulders. “Would someone please add more wood to the fire?”
Jace lifted a split log onto the fire that instantly crackled and lit, releasing a pungent juniper-like scent.
Devon’s gaze traveled between the hypnotic flames and the guy’s faces as they slowly sipped the tea. She clicked a couple of photos, but soon became disinterested in trying to work, stopped, and set the camera down.
She finished drinking the tea and simply sat and looked at the fire. The moment was filled with expectation and a reverent silence no one dared break. Her heart seemed to beat faster than normal and her skin warmed, so she loosened her hold on the blanket and closed her eyes. Instantly, she was astonished to see a burst of beautifully colored geometric patterns that resembled the most ornate flower imaginable. The petals slowly rotated. A wave of dizziness knocked her onto her side. The mug tipped, and a trickle of tea spilled onto the floor. The spinning, brightly colored blossom opened, and she sensed she was being drawn toward its center. “Whoa.” She reached blindly toward Jace and grasped his hand tight. “What am I seeing?”
“We’re seeing it too.” Beau sounded far away.
“It’s a multidimensional portal.” Jace sounded calm, but his hand trembled. “Our bodies are safely staying put in this cave, b
ut our thoughts will travel across time and space.” Grasping Devon’s hand, he interlaced his fingers with hers. “This is how the Marduko first came to Earth. A portal opened, and they crossed through.”
“Will we cross the portal?” Fear crept into her voice.
“No, the original crossing was a one-way trip by permission only. We can never go back to Draca, and I wouldn’t want to. What you’ll see is an ancient blood memory carried within Beau and me. You’re going to slip inside our genetic memories of events that brought the Marduko to Earth and changed our lives and DNA forever. You’ll see our ancestors as they were. We’ve changed drastically over time. I hope you won’t be alarmed. All you have to do is relax and witness it.”
She stretched out on the ground a safe distance from the fire. “I don’t think I can get any more relaxed than this, and I’m limp as a rag doll. I can’t even lift my head.”
Jace’s hand stroked Devon’s hair. “Don’t be startled.”
Devon watched the geometric flower pulse with color and twirl behind closed eyes. “Don’t be startled by what?”
Suddenly, the spinning petals exploded into a white-hot cloud of energy that blasted her consciousness into another realm.
DEVON OPENED HER EYES wide and saw nothing familiar.
Jace and Beau were gone, and she was not lying on the floor of the cave beside a warm fire; instead the walls surrounding her were polished blocks of olive-green stone. The architecture resembled a hybrid of a medieval German castle and an airy Middle Eastern mosque. A harsh chill hung in the air. An open portico revealed a sooty, dark sky. Two dim red suns smoldered in the murky atmosphere, providing little heat or light.
Devon touched the wall and her fingers melted through the solid matter without the least resistance. She gasped, realizing she wasn’t actually present in this place as a physical being, yet she could see the grit of the stone and smell a hint of must in the air. All five of her senses were fully present, but she knew it was an illusion. The result was a bit like eavesdropping on someone else’s vivid dream.
A blaring commotion rose in the castle’s hallway. The noise sounded like the victorious war cry of a multitude of angry male voices. A moment later an agitated group of beings stormed into the room, dragging a limp captive between them.
The beings were tall, sturdily built, with broad shoulders, heavy arms, and muscular thighs. They felt desperate with rage, and they carried a wave of pure aggression into the room with them. All were dressed in leather armor reminiscent of that worn by barbarians, and every feature from their upturned slit-like eyes to their square hands was blunt and bold. They seemed to exude masculinity; her gaze could discern nothing refined about them. Their faces were decidedly reptilian in appearance and their skin was covered in tight-patterned, flat scales; their lips were firm and unexpressive. As she comprehended these beings that were walking and behaving like men weren’t human at all, an instinctive ripple of repulsion passed through her and she fled toward a far wall.
They flung the captive male to the ground and stood over him with swords drawn.
Sensing violence, she wanted to run or hide, but noticed the beings looked right at her and didn’t react in any way. Even though the experience was convincingly real to her, it soon became apparent that from their point of view it was as if she were not in the room. Her heart pounded in her throat, but she remembered Jace’s words that she was witnessing a full-blown, sensory-engaged genetic memory in either Jace’s or Beau’s mind, so she struggled to remain calm and simply observe.
A male with metallic greenish-gray skin pointed his sword at the captive. “He’s a scout for the Dracian council—kill him!”
“No!” A second male with pewter-gray skin shoved his way forward. “Torture him first. Find out what he knows and then kill him. We can’t take the risk. What if he’s already sent a coded message to the council? I’ll never surrender! We have to know if we’ve been compromised and where the Dracians stand.”
A bronze-skinned male who subtly reminded Devon of Jace towered above the others. He walked toward the portico and pointed the tip of a broadsword toward the low, burning red suns. “Does it even matter? Look what we’re fighting over. Draca is doomed. Our last female mate died a cycle ago during the so-called summer. The plight is spreading through Draca. Soon the Dracians to the south of us will suffer our fate. Their female mates and offspring will perish as ours have. Our kingdom has become a frozen tomb for men. I say it’s time we call in our one favor and plead with the Hathors for the right to emigrate.”
One male, who had a brutal-looking, lead-gray face, shouted, “Don’t listen to Jacesar! We are warriors! The Hathors would never allow us to freely emigrate without severe conditions attached, and would force us to take a vow of peaceful cooperation with the new homeland.” He thrust his sword skyward. “Never! I’ll die with dignity rather than bend to the will of an inferior race.” Shouting, he swung his sword wildly above his head. “We should fight for the land south of us, slaughter our rivals, and take their mates!”
Most of the males lustily cheered in agreement.
The male with bronze skin, Jacesar, spoke with calm authority. “Why, cousin, so we can watch our new mates die in a few months’ time? Our suns are steadily cooling. It’s killing the women and young ones. Besides, the south of Draca will soon be as we are now, locked in eternal darkness. Do you not understand? Our planet is dying. We are not fighting over kingdoms anymore—this is the final stage before complete collapse. Soon Draca, including all of us, will be no more.”
“Those are cowards’ words!” the mean-looking male with the leaden sheen protested. “As the eldest member of the House of Tor, I denounce Jacesar’s plan! We shouldn’t panic. We don’t need to change. For ten thousand cycles we’ve lived as warriors and thrived on fierce competition. Now we’re being asked to cooperate with foes and be diminished in the process? The Hathors’ plan is a dismal one. I reject it! They promise to open a portal of safe passage to a few of the oldest families who once served in the Hathors’ Imperial Guard. They expect us to embrace a strange land with a single hot-burning sun, and mix our royal blood with a weaker, flightless, and far inferior alien race? That is not a survival plan—it is suicide! How can the Marduko thrive under such circumstances? I refuse to sacrifice myself to such folly! I think it’s a trick to swiftly dispose of us.”
“Cousin Tor, that is blasphemy!” Jacesar looked scandalized. “Have you learned nothing? The Hathors trick no one. Their race is superior to all because they are compassionate and trustworthy above all else. If they say there is a place we might thrive, we should listen.”
“Compassion is for fools without options,” Tor snarled as he lifted his sword high and brought it down forcefully on the captive’s head. The skull of the captive cracked open, blood spurted forth, and his dead body slumped onto the floor in a crimson puddle. “There,” he said proudly. “That’s how the Marduko handle their enemies and their problems—with the decisive strike of a blade!”
Several dragon men burst into sarcastic laughter.
Jacesar stared with disgust at the limp body splayed across the stones. “You’ve killed the scout and gained nothing. We have to assume he did smuggle a message to the south, and all plans will soon be known to the Dracians. What a waste! It will only bring more suspicion and killing.”
“It’s not a waste.” Tor belligerently stabbed at the dead body on the floor. “It’s a time-saver. We were going to kill him anyway, so why wait?”
“I’m done with you!” Jacesar stomped his boot in rage. “Everyone leave!”
“Help me drag the garbage away.” Tor ordered the others to pick up the fallen victim and carry him from the room.
All the men moved toward the door.
“Beaudeen!” Jacesar called out to a tall man who had steel-blue scales and vibrant blue eyes. “Stay. I must speak with you.”
The blue-scaled dragon man patiently stepped aside, allowing the others to leave. When the roo
m was empty, he bowed to the bronze-skinned man with his fist politely crossed over his heart. “Commander Jacesar, how may I serve you?”
Jacesar stepped closer to Beaudeen. “I credit you with bringing this dire situation to my attention years ago. I didn’t want to believe you back then, and I was reluctant to admit the other Marduko, including my own cousin, were so unwilling to change, but you were right. I wish I’d listened to you sooner.”
Beaudeen humbly lowered his head. “I always strive to speak the truth, even if it’s difficult or unwelcome.”
“I know you do. I also know Tor has continually punished you for your honest observations.” Jacesar brushed his fingers against a thick gash of scar tissue on Beaudeen’s throat and ears. “Tor’s temper is hot. He’s prone to lash out at anyone who crosses him. That’s why I want you to answer my next question carefully.” He paused. “Would you be willing to go to the temple of Marduko and steal the royal dragon eggs?”
Beaudeen gasped. “It’s forbidden. You outrank me. The dragon eggs are not for me to touch.”
“Rank is not important anymore. Soon the dragon eggs will belong to no one. There will be no Marduko left to fight over them.”
Puzzlement flashed in Beaudeen’s eyes. “Why do we need the eggs? We can’t march into the land south of us and simply hand them to a mate. An army of enraged Dracians will swarm over us before we even reach the border.”
“We’re not going south.” Jacesar’s eyes glittered. “If war with the Dracians doesn’t finish us off, the growing darkness and cold eventually will. We’re going to negotiate with the Hathors and plead to emigrate.”
“Where?”
“Wherever they say is best for our kind. The Hathors have cooperated with the Marduko for millennia. They know what we require to thrive and evolve. They will not send us somewhere to perish. Wherever they choose may not be ideal, but our chances will be better than here.”
The Lady Prefers Dragons Page 14