by Leela Ash
“That means you can’t just walk in there looking for him. I can.”
“He knows you too.”
She flipped up her hood and slid Dad’s sunglass onto her nose. “Ta-da! Pretty cruddy as disguises go, but it’ll have to do.”
That won her a deep rumble of discontent, which she ignored. “I’ll go in. I’ll find where he is – whether he’s staying at the main lodge or in one of the fancy lakeside ‘cabins.’ Once I know his location, I’ll text you. And then I’ll leave. I promise!” She risked a glance at his dark, stormy face. “If all goes well, I won’t even see LeMar.”
“And if all doesn’t go well?”
“Then you’ll save me,” she grinned. “See? I do trust you!”
Chapter 15
It was easy to be brave sitting beside Brandon in the safety of her truck. Now, however, as she strode across the lobby of the inn at Pleasant Pond, Hannah found herself shaking with nervous jitters. A cowardly corner of her mind wished she’d let him handle this, as he wanted. She was a farm girl, not a warrior.
She hushed that doubt. She wasn’t just a farm girl – she was also a Dragon’s Mate. And she would help her love in any way she could.
The lobby was empty. Not surprising, since it was mid-week in the off season. An official inn at Pleasant Pond sedan idled out front, its oblivious driver texting. The door to the manager’s office, behind the front desk, was closed. One young man tended the reception desk. He glanced up as she walked briskly past and her stomach twisted into a knot. Could he tell she didn’t belong here? Would he call her out and demand to know what she was doing? Gritting her teeth, she passed him without a sideways look. Only when she reached the edge of the lobby did she risk a peek back. Despite her casual clothes, her fake confidence must have fooled him because he was once more engrossed with his computer.
Her goal lay just ahead down a corridor to her left: a house phone, exactly where she remembered it. There was no point asking the front desk for LeMar’s room number; hotels never gave that information out to strangers. Instead she picked up the phone and pressed the button for reception.
“Hello, front desk? The ice machine on the fourth floor has gone crazy. It’s spitting ice everywhere. Unplug it?” Remembering some of the rude people she’d dealt with here, Hannah put on her best snotty voice. “That’s your job, not mine! And I suggest you do your job before someone slips on an ice cube and breaks their neck.”
She slammed the receiver down and stepped quickly away, pretending to search for something deep in her pocketbook. Seconds dragged by… a minute. Her jitters doubled. Did the clerk not believe her? Was he calling maintenance instead of fixing it himself? Just when she was about to give up, rapid footsteps echoed down the main hall. A flustered young man jogged past without a single glance in her direction! Hannah waited until she heard the ‘ding’ of the elevator closing. Then she sprinted back out into the entry.
Still empty! Shivering with excitement and fear, she scampered behind the front desk to the inn’s computers. No doubt the password had changed since she worked here, but in summers they often got sloppy and left it scribbled on a sticky-note for the new hires.
She needn’t have worried. The poor kid had been so frazzled he ran off without exiting the check-in program! Hannah sent the guy a silent apology as she scanned the list of current guests.
There! Room 312, Main Lodge. Stephen LeMar. Checked in under his own name, no less! Though why shouldn’t he be? Not even Brandon knew him personally.
She tabbed to his entry. No address – not that she’d expected one. No license plate for a car. Tons of room service. Hannah gulped when she spotted the size of his wine bill. Oh yeah. Total Worm. Nothing but the best for this guy!
Yet even Worms had to pay for their comforts. While the inn might offer the latest luxuries, their computer system was old enough that it still displayed a customer’s credit card information. Giddy with triumph, she pulled out her phone and took a quick shot of the numbers beside LeMar’s name. If they missed him here, maybe Brandon could use that to track the Worm down.
A note beside that number, though, made her heart drop. “Paid in full.”
LeMar had already checked out! They were too late!
“What are you doing, young lady?”
With a squeak of shock, Hannah spun on her heels. Mr. MacFarlane, the inn’s manager, stood behind her, fists planted on his hips in outrage. Too late, she remembered how he liked to nap in his office in the afternoon.
“I… I, um…”
Think! she begged herself. Say something! Anything!
A con man could have invented a story on the fly. But she was honest – and for her, deceit took a lot of planning.
Before she could even apologize, the manager plucked her phone from her hand. “I saw you taking pictures.”
No! That was her only way to warn Brandon! “Give that back!” She snatched at the phone but missed as MacFarlane tucked it in the pocket of his pants.
“I think not!” he snipped, backing into his office away from her. “You’d best leave, right now. I’m calling the police.”
With a ‘ding’, the elevator door slid open. Hannah glanced over, expecting the desk clerk.
What she saw was worse.
Much worse.
Stephen LeMar strode quickly down the hallway, followed by a bellboy struggling with a cart full of luggage.
He hadn’t left yet? Of course not – the car outside! Her eyes widened as one piece of the puzzle fell into place. That was his ride to the airport. They could still stop him!
If she could get her phone back.
And if LeMar didn’t spot her and snap her neck just to punish Brandon…
Hannah dashed into the manager’s office, drawing an outraged squawk from MacFarlane. She lunged at him, desperately trying to grab his clothes. But he scuttled around his desk, brimming with indignation. “Stop this! Stop this right now!” he shrilled.
Dammit! LeMar was already halfway across the lobby. She had to alert Brandon, now! But how? MacFarlane had a phone on his desk… if she could remember more than half of her Mate’s phone number. Should she scream? No, Brandon wasn’t far, yet there was no way he could hear her in the woods.
Panic welled in her heart as MacFarlane huffed and blustered. The Worm was going to escape – because of her. Because of her clumsiness.
Then, as fear threatened to overwhelm her, she remembered what Brandon said less than an hour before.
I’m sure LeMar fears his ‘allies’ as much as his enemies.
That was it. The key.
Ice-cold terror swept over her as a dangerous, insane plan sprang into her mind. Brandon would never consent to it. But he wasn’t here to complain.
And it just might work.
Stepping back from the manager, she deliberately turned her back on the door, and upon the murderous monster beyond it. Hannah drew a deep, shaky breath – and shouted at the top of her lungs, “Fool! I am a servant of the Fangs of Apophis. Do you even know what that means?”
Safe on the other side of the desk, MacFarlane squinted at her like she was mad. “What are you blathering about? Get out of my office now before… oh!”
His gaze slid behind her and he froze, his mouth rounded in an ‘o’ of surprise. Hannah’s breath caught in her throat. She knew what the man was seeing even before LeMar’s smooth, oily voice hissed behind her.
“So. The Fangs sent a spy to follow me, did they?”
Heart pounding, she refused to turn. She simply stood, soaking in the terror… and the danger… of this threat.
Silk clothes whispered closer, until the Worm nearly breathed down her neck. “Tell me who sent you, O Servant, and I may grant you a painless death.”
A terrified gurgle bubbled up from MacFarlane, and he began to murmur, “What? What, what?” over and over again.
LeMar must be Shifting.
Good. That meant the threat was real. Fear and triumph warred inside Hannah.
&
nbsp; “Well?”
Now everything depended on his cowardice. If the Worm found a spine, she was dead.
“I said…”
“No one sent me.” At that, she turned to face him.
Caught halfway between Worm and human, LeMar was a creature of nightmare. Clawed hands, scales glittering on his cheeks and throat, and a mouth full of fangs. Yet he cringed away when he recognized her, and his eyes darted about the room.
Good. She backed away too, putting the desk between her body and the monster. He was just as cowardly as ever.
That meant she might make it out of here alive.
“Stiles!” he snarled. “How did you know… no, never mind.” Seeing the empty lobby, he regained some of his composure. “What suicidal urge brought you here alone?”
“Oh c’mon.” The desk wasn’t much protection, but she felt her spirit soar at the sight of her enemy’s unease. “You know the answer to that.”
His slitted eyes narrowed, wary of a trap.
A hard, cold smile spread across Hannah’s face as she watched her brother’s attacker squirm. “I’m not alone. My Mate’s nearby. And he always knows where I am when I’m in danger. Remember?”
Anger gave her courage. To see his fear… to let him know that she, Hannah Stiles, brought him down… that was a pleasure worth any risk. Sure, a Worm could shatter this foolish desk in a heartbeat and snap her neck…
But he was a Worm, to the end. Craven.
LeMar spun and bolted for the exit. He tore around the front desk and plowed into his hapless bell boy, sending man and bags flying everywhere.
Half-dazed, Hannah walked out of the office in time to see his last moments.
As the vile Shifter dashed towards his waiting car, her majestic Dragon plummeted to earth, slamming into LeMar with bone shattering force. Black scales flashed in the sun. His head reared back, his lips curled, and she caught sight of six-inch-long, dagger-like fangs. Still alive, LeMar screeched, a thin, reptilian wail. Then her Dragon’s head snapped forward, silencing him forever.
Besides her, the bell boy screamed in horror. “Plane crash!” he howled. “Plane crash! Call 9-1-1!”
A plane? How could he be so confused? Then she remembered the delirium that the sight of a Shifter triggered in most people. No doubt the shock of it would scatter all real memories of this day.
Leaving the bell boy to his panic, Hannah stepped out of the inn. Chin up, defiant, she strode to her Mate and laid her hand upon his hot, armored side. Letting him know, with deeds, not words, that she loved him in all his forms.
Chapter 16
One day after the fight at the inn, Hannah snuggled against Brandon on the porch swing. The pale morning sun offered little heat, but she couldn’t have cared less. Next to him, she had all the warmth she needed.
Danny sprinted past them, leaping into the air to catch a pass from his father.
Danny.
Running again. Playing football.
Hannah basked in the pride that brought her. She’d done that. Yesterday evening, Brandon carried Danny out to the Wellspring. The love she felt for her brother was far different from her passion for her Dragon, yet every bit as deep. Once more, the waters of the magical pool answered her call. The last evil LeMar inflicted on the Stiles family was washed away by the spring’s power.
“Hannah?”
She loved to hear Brandon say her name. Adored the affection, the desire that always seemed to echo in that word when it passed his lips. “Mmhmm?”
He hesitated. Could her Dragon actually be nervous?!? “There’s something we should discuss, if you are ready. The future. Our future.”
A lot had changed since yesterday. Everything, honestly! The thorn-covered path to joy had become an open highway. How had she ever doubted? “I know. I’m sorry…”
“Why?” With that pained question, he pulled away from her. “You can’t do this! You can’t send me away without explaining why you…”
“No! No, no, no!” She kissed him, silencing him in the gentlest way she knew. When she drew back from the delightful treasure of his lips, she smiled. “I meant I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I won’t send you away. Not now, not ever. You were right. We’re Mates.”
Bright contentment lit his sapphire eyes. Still, he wouldn’t rush her. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. Now that Danny’s better, he can help my parents. Like he’d always planned. Even if he couldn’t…” She leaned close to whisper in his ear. “…I’d still come with you. I love my family and my home. But I love you too. Leaving you would tear my soul in half.”
He stroked her hair, his fingers lingering on the curve of her neck. “You know we’ll always be a part of this place. My Flight should arrive over the course of this week. With all of us here, we can keep the Wellspring safe and still have time to visit all those places I promised. How does summer on a Greek isle sound to you?”
She squirmed. “Well, um, I may not actually be up for that.”
“No?” He chuckled – then grew somber when he saw she wasn’t joking. “Have you made plans already?”
“We made plans. On that afternoon when we made love.” She took his strong hand and placed it upon her stomach. “When I summoned the Wellspring, I… felt something. Inside me. Brandon, I’m pregnant. I’m sure of it.”
“A child? Our child?” Love and wonder lit his face – and not a little bit of pride. Brandon kissed her lips then bent low and gave a second kiss to her belly where a new life, a new future, lay.
Tilting her face up to the sun, Hannah gave herself wholly to joy. To a glorious, magical future with him, her Dragon protector.
The End
Dragon Aflame
Dragon Dreams Book 2
A Wellspring Chronicles Tale
Tabitha St. George
Leela Ash
Copyright ©2018 by Tabitha St. George & Leela Ash. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter 1
This is how it starts. This is always how it starts.
Tess Everlyn opened her eyes, fighting an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu.
She stood on a tiny island near the shore of a pine-skirted lake. Steel grey sky glowered overhead, turning the pond’s water a cold, foreboding black. An icy wind whipped its surface into a froth and made her shiver and pull her leather jacket closer.
Nothing except the wind broke the silence that surrounded her. No sounds of cars, people, music… nothing. She was alone, standing in thigh-high grass. Staring at the island’s one other occupant.
An enormous elm tree, tall and straight, soaring a hundred feet into the air. Not a single leaf graced its branches.
That explains the wind, then. It must be November.
But why did she need to guess that? Why couldn’t she remember the date or how she got here?
Because I never do.
She knew that. Knew she’d stood here before, a dozen times, struggling to recall herself. Gently, she probed her own mind. There were some things she did know. Her name. The fact that a flimsy log bridge lay behind her, tying the little isle to the mainland. That if she followed the path beyond it, it would lead her to a log cabin about a half mile from here. Her cabin, with a lawn chair, a cord of wood for the fireplace, and a beat up Harley Davidson hog hidden under a dirty sheet.
Skills bubbled up in her mind. A scattering of languages – English, French, German, Spanish, Russian. She knew how to handle that motorcycle, recalled laws of the road and driving permits. Slowly, other facts swam to the surface. This was the country of America, in the state of Massachusetts. No, this part of Massachusetts had broken away at some point and become… what did they call it now? Maine? Yes, that was it.
Her neighbors….
Like leaves caught
in a whirlwind, images swirled up in towering chaos. Her neighbors were the Penobscots, a quiet, courteous tribe who left her gifts of venison in the fall. Or were they lumberjacks; rude, prone to drunken affronts, carelessly leveling the woods around her home? No, nosy tourists, begging her for directions to The Hundred Mile Wilderness… snowmobilers roaring past on machines that first enraged her, then enchanted her with their speed and howling fury.
Tess closed her eyes again and shivered, letting the wind and the silence wash away that mad flurry of memories. She didn’t know which of them were true. Maybe they all were.
There was only one thing missing from these memories.
Her.
As the past returned, she recalled places, times… all the debris of a life. But herself? Her lovers, family, friends?
Gone. Completely.
Weirdest thing ever – and yet, it felt natural. That sense of déjà vu settled over her again, like a child’s security blanket. Things were as they should be, a part of her mind whispered.
Yeah, right. She wasn’t the kind of woman who believed things just because people said them. Not even when the person talking was her.
Her eye spotted some small form at the base of the tree. Kneeling, she pushed aside the grass. Amongst the roots lay twelve stones the size of her hand. Each one contained a primitive drawing of a couple. A princess and a harpist. Two farmers with pitchfork and hoe, like a stick-figure version of American Gothic. A pair of hippies decked in flowers, surrounded by arcs of rainbow color. The ones on the left had faded and sunk halfway into the island’s soft earth. The farthest right – the newest? – looked brand new. On it, a shaggy-bearded man drove a motorcycle, while a woman stood on the seat behind him, laughing madly as her long hair blew in the wind.
Is that psycho me? she wondered. Did I ever do anything that crazy?
She reached for the stone, but as her hand neared it, a shiver swept over her and the hair on the back of her arm rose.
These stones were dangerous. She knew it in her heart. She should never, ever touch them.