Shifters of the Wellsprings: The Complete Paranormal Collection

by Leela Ash

  The white Dragon drifted in silence, thinking. “What about the Pack?”

  “They’ll only get themselves killed. This is Dragons’ work.”

  Even as he said those words, though, queasiness washed over him. Such an insult would enrage Lily. They’d come so far tonight, but this… this would hurt her, deeply. Could she ever forgive such a slight?

  His Dragon thought so.

  She is our Mate. We should protect her. That is what Dragons do.

  His human half wasn’t so sure.

  Lily is proud. As proud as any Dragon. She’ll never take me as her Mate if I can’t treat her like an equal.

  His Dragon shrugged those worries off as nonsense. It was a Dragon. Nothing was its equal.

  Donnelly struggled with a similar dilemma. “I’m sure we could do this without the Sand Pack. But if we ditch them, they’ll never forgive the insult. I need their good will if I’m going to work with the Shifters in this area. So, as much as I hate to say it, I think we have to let the Wolves decide.”

  “Alright.”

  His quick agreement startled the other Dragon. Before Donnelly could question his abrupt change of heart, Casey spun and flew off.

  Secretly relieved that the choice had been ‘taken’ from him.

  In the end, the plan stayed pretty much the same. Once more the Dragons soared towards the mines – only this time, a full thirty Wolves ranged through the scrub beneath them. A flood of silent, furry shadows.

  Oh, and two kids pedaled mountain bikes furiously straight up the quarry’s access road. Struggling, with all their might, to keep up with the Shifters. Casey prayed the battle was long finished by the time they arrived. He didn’t want the blood of a pair of nineteen-year-olds on his hands.

  When they reached the quarry, the Dragons drifted high above, like two deadly raptors. Once the Pack was in place (and just as those panting youngsters arrived…), he and Donnelly plunged down from the sky towards the machine guns.

  His Dragon blood sang with a fierce joy as he slammed into his enemies. Men had only one moment to look up at their death, plummeting towards them. One second to scream in horror. Then they died beneath razor-sharp talons and a wave of liquid fire that melted bone and metal into slag.

  Casey’s tail whipped, sending men flying through the air. Bullets pinged off his scales. His head snapped up and another gust of flame incinerated that sniper.

  Around them, the mercenaries scrambled for their weapons. But they made a fatal mistake: they turned their guns upon the Dragons, those armored killing machines. No one spared a glance for the quiet darkness that surrounded them. Until, with an eerie chorus of howls, the Sand Pack charged in, washing over their enemies in a lethal wave.

  It was over. Oh, men and Wolves still fought. Mercenaries fired upon Dragons with a mad courage Casey almost admired. But the Dragons’ first attack had snapped the back of the Fangs’ forces.

  Of their minions’ forces, he reminded himself.

  Their true foe hid underground, inside tunnels too small for a Dragon’s bulk.

  He caught Donnelly’s eye and bowed his great scaled head. Immediately the other Dragon leaped to his side. As one they Shifted, down to their almost-human Marakeen form. No one would ever mistake them for mortals; their serpentine eyes, scaled skin, and fanged mouths betrayed their Dragon blood. But this form let them follow their prey through the mine’s narrow tunnels.

  Without a word they entered the mine, leaving the lesser battles to the Wolves.

  Fifty feet in, the tunnel split in three. The right-hand path looked scuffed, so Casey picked it. But soon he hit another intersection. One that offered no clues.

  Dammit, this place was a maze! How was he going to find the Fangs?

  The answer came padding down the hall on furry feet. Casey cringed as Lily came trotting up. All the Wolves looked the same to him, honestly, but that necklace of hers was a dead giveaway.

  And his Mate was not pleased to be left behind like an unwelcome child.

  “Lily… um…”

  She snapped at him, her teeth clicking shut an inch away from his hand. Then she gave a sharp, imperious bark… and loped back to the first intersection.

  Where, apparently, the Dragons had taken a wrong turn.

  So much for doing this the ‘easy’ way. He followed her, not looking forward to the scolding he knew would come.

  A few minutes later, getting scolded was the least of his worries. This mine was indeed a maze, branch after branch of passages rising and falling. Lily galloped unerringly through it, nose to the ground. When the excavation broke through the wall of a small natural cave, the Wolf abandoned the artificial path and wound her way into the depths of the earth.

  Images painted with red ochre dotted the walls. Handprints. Dots. Hunters with bows. Clearly the miners had blundered across something ancient.

  And dangerous.

  Light appeared ahead, reflecting down the stone walls. With it came the dull murmur of chanting.

  Magic! The thought roused his Dragon’s protective fury. Eager to shield Lily from that unknown, mysterious danger, he pushed past his Mate – and earned himself an annoyed snap as he charged forward, Donnelly hot behind him.

  He burst into a low cavern full of Shifters.

  Hares. Dozens of them. Most clustered against the back wall. Charms of stone and feather tied to their naked bodies, the witches groveled and chanted before an ancient painting: a twisted black figure, colored with soot and tar, whose red, staring eyes seemed to move about the room. Thick red ochre circled the monstrous image. But that protective line had been slashed, several times. Probably by the obsidian knife that the rite’s leader held.

  The knife from Kachina Well. What Kate Adams had been able to steal, because of his Flight’s failure.

  Ten men ringed the side walls, Bears and Wolves, mostly. Each one stood before a swirling spot of inky darkness. Some flinched as the Dragons burst in, but most ignored them. They simply stared, mesmerized, at that spiraling evil.

  So many! Casey winced. With a higher ceiling he could Shift into his Dragon form and clear this room in moments. But trapped in this weaker form, the fight would take forever!

  Well, at least he knew where to begin. Six Hares stood directly before him, at the entrance to the cave. Like their sisters they were naked. Unlike them, they neither moved nor spoke. Bodies contorted, hands twisted in strange gestures, they stood still as statues. Only their wide eyes revealed that they were alive.

  For now. Casey planned to ‘fix’ that, though.

  Bellowing a challenge, he sprinted ahead – and slammed into an invisible barrier as tough as a steel wall. Dazed, he staggered back.

  “Magi…”

  WHAM! Donnelly slammed into the shield before he could gasp that warning out. He, too, bounced ineffectually.

  At the sound of his challenge, the Witch Queen’s head snapped around. “Status?”

  Stiff as a board, the Hare in front of him cried, “Holding. Hurry up. I can’t keep them out long.”

  Lily, warned by their failures, hopped into the air – and kicked off that same barrier.

  Pure, unholy joy lit the Witch Queen’s face when she saw the Wolf. Spinning, she threw herself to the ground before the painting. “Nemagorix! Lord of this world! Behold! We have brought you what you demanded!”

  A voice made of treacle and darkness oozed through the room. “You have only ‘brought’ me half of what I seek.”

  What were they talking about? Lily’s necklace? Was half of… what?

  That was a thought for later, calmer times. Right now, they needed to break through to their enemies.

  Both Dragons threw themselves at the magical shields, again and again. Beads of sweat began to trickle down the Hare’s brow. But her protections held, unwavering. And at the rear of the cave, the chanting never slowed.

  Howls and padding paws approached and suddenly the Sand Pack swirled around Casey. Dozens of bodies threw themselves against the
Fangs’ shields.

  And still they held.

  Shudders swept across the circles of darkness that lined the walls, and as the Witches wailed and gibbered, those discs began to swell. A thick, viscous fluid bulged out and sent stringy tendrils questing through the air. Seeking the bodies of the Shifter men who stood nearby.

  “Lord of Darkness,” the Witch Queen howled. “Send your army to us! Join with us! Make our bodies the vessels of your power!”

  “Oh hell no. No, no, no,” Donnelly groaned.

  Casey poured every ounce of his strength into his attack. With bone-jarring force he threw himself against the barrier, again and again, raising bruises under his own impenetrable scales.

  But no force, mortal or Dragon, seemed capable of destroying this unholy magic. Casey gasped, fighting to find some reserve of strength within himself. Something, anything, to save the day.

  Then Lily stood beside him in her human form. A pillar of fierce calm amid the storm of Wolves and Dragons battering themselves against the wall. Turning her back to her enemy, she screamed back up the passage. “Brenden! Millie! Deck that bitch!”

  Two forms shot past him: a boy and a girl. And when they reached that invisible wall, bane of their ‘betters’, the two Kin didn’t even slow. They darted ahead and tackled the Witch with a force that would make any NFL linebacker proud.

  As the three hit the ground, that unbreakable wall vanished. Wolves and Dragons spilled into the midst of their foes.

  “Get them!” Aaron King howled. “Go, go, go!”

  Casey needed no urging. Arms and legs pumping, he flashed across the room, straight for the horrified Witch Queen.

  And then there was a reckoning.

  A quick and bloody reckoning.

  Chapter 20.

  To Casey, the celebration at the Spread was a raucous affair. Motorcycles screamed through shrieking, laughing Wolves. Some spun in circles, filling the air with dust. Others popped wheelies that threatened to spill their riders onto the ground. Everywhere Wolves drank, toasting each other and their own exploits. Their Wolf spirits streamed through the gathering, howling and wrestling. Brendan and Millie, the two youngsters who’d cemented their place in the Sand Pack, were cheered and joyfully pummeled at every turn.

  Yet, sitting beside him on her trailer’s steps, Lily gazed out across the chaos with a serene joy. Now and then a Wolf spirit trotted over to sniff her Wolf. Other than that, they were alone. A tiny spot of quiet amid the tumult of celebration.

  One question still bothered Casey. “Lily, how did you know that the Hares’ magic only repulsed magical things, like Shifters?”

  “I didn’t,” she admitted. “But I figured it was worth a try. Powerful people plan for powerful attacks. Lots of times they forget the little guys.”

  He flushed at her words; he had treated her and her Pack in the exact same way. Yet no anger lurked in the Wolf’s face. Lily was a creature of the moment, the now. What happened was the past, gone now.

  Finn Donnelly strolled over, pocketing his phone as he stepped delicately around yet another snuffling Wolf spirit. “Bad news. My Mate took a look at that painting and confirmed it’s a gate to wherever Nemagorix dwells. That rusty-looking paint around it? That was the lock. The Fangs managed to break it.”

  “With the knife they stole from my Flight.”

  Loyal and fierce, Lily immediately jumped to his defense. “Hey, guarding that knife was Molasses-Breath’s job, not yours. He’s the one who screwed up.”

  “But without our token…”

  “All that did was let them talk to Molasses-Breath. He’s the dumbass who lost the knife. In fact,” her face brightened, “we should go back to Flagstaff and take a dump in one of his snow banks. Let him know what we think of him.”

  So much for being ‘a creature of the moment.’ Lily clung to some parts of the past with the tenacity of a terrier.

  Casey tried to steer the conversation back on point. “I’ll speak to my Flight. We’ll see about purchasing the mines and putting a guard – mortal and Dragon – on it.”

  “And I’ll get in touch with the Sedona Warren,” Donnelly offered. “Maybe they can replace that broken magical lock.” Inside his pocket, his phone chirped. The Dragon fished it out and a broad smile broke across his craggy face. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go find Kate Adams. Got a picture she’ll want to see.”

  He turned the phone towards them. A slender man with ruffled brown hair and a rakish smile had sent a ‘selfie’ of himself and three small girls. Little Rat girls who, sadly, had inherited their mother’s crooked teeth and beady eyes. Each stared at a plate of pancakes topped with whipped cream and strawberries. They might not win any beauty contests – but the joy and delighted greed that lit their faces was adorable.

  Despite himself, Casey was impressed. “That was fast! It took what? Four hours? Six?”

  “Private jets for the win. Plus, Kate knew where they were. She just needed a big stick to get them out.”

  And that’s what Dragons were. The biggest ‘sticks’ on the planet. “Is that man one of your Brothers?”

  “Yup. Owen Jackson.”

  Ah. The imbecile who’d dubbed the Flight of the Snows ‘Snowflakes.’ Casey’s nose wrinkled.

  “He used to be a playboy and a bit of a dick,” Donnelly added, seeing that look of disgust. “He’s got a Mate and a family now, and she calmed him down a lot. These days he spends most of his time saving Rats, not partying on the Riviera. Kind of my Flight’s Rat Whisperer.”

  Hmmph. Maybe he’d changed… or maybe not. The Flight of the Snows would reserve judgment.

  Lily was studying him, a faint smile on her lips. Alright, so maybe she wasn’t the only one who could be slow to let an insult slide.

  The big man headed off in search of the girls’ mother. Leaving him and the Wolf in a comfortable silence.

  It was late. The sun had already peaked over the edge of the horizon, promising another hot summer day. Wolves might be willing and able to party through the night, but a dull lethargy crept over Casey, calling him to the comfort of bed.

  It was a call he resisted, however. Because answering it meant leaving.

  Forever.

  Nothing kept him here now. The Blood Debt was paid. The Fangs were defeated. And, well, Lily had made it clear that she would never accept his Dragon’s Claiming.

  Nothing remained, except to say goodbye and leave.

  And he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t make himself shake her hand politely and return to the Aerie. No matter how tired he grew, no matter how many yawns he had to stifle, he stayed. Sitting, beside her. Savoring his last moments with the woman he’d come to love. Trying to ignore three more damned Wolves that just had to sniff Lily’s Wolf from head to tail.

  Sadly, Lily didn’t understand what the moment meant, or why it ought to last forever. She stretched and rose slowly to her feet. “Time for me to head to bed. I am beat to hell.”

  This was it, then. The end. Heart sinking, Casey rose and bowed before her. “Lily King, it has been an honor and… and yes, a pleasure to guard you.”

  “Jeez, buddy, don’t turn this into some big thing. I’m just going to bed.”

  This is how he would remember her. Rumpled and bruised from the fight, yet radiant with life and joy. “I just want you to know that this was not a burden I loathed.”

  Still she didn’t understand the import of the moment. “Uh, okay. Sure. Say, since you’re not my bodyguard any more, there’s no reason you can’t join me. I warn you: I’m going to fall asleep the minute my head hits the pillow. But when we wake up…”

  Her grin, wild and passionate, tempted him to postpone his fate. To take one last, deep draught from the cup of pleasure before it was lost to him, forever.

  No. Lily King deserved better than some one-night stand. “I should leave. Return to my Flight. They’ll want a detailed explanation of tonight’s events.”

  “Wait.” She peered closely at his face, as if doubt
ed he was serious. “You’re leaving? As in, leaving, leaving? For good?”

  “Yes. As you said, my duty has ended.”

  “And duty was the only reason you ever came.”

  Was that pain in her face? Regret? He longed to pull her to him, but she folded her arms across her chest.

  Now he couldn’t leave. Not until she understood.

  With gentle grief, he spoke from his heart. “Lily, listen. When you called my Debt paid, I finally understood why you rejected the Rite of Claiming.” Hurt and angry, she said nothing. So, Casey spelled it out for her. “To me, to a Dragon, Claiming a Mate is embracing your destiny. You accept your Fate. You welcome it and it fulfills you, giving meaning to your life.

  “I never stopped to think what it would mean to a Wolf. But when you set me ‘free’, I realized that you were still a prisoner. Claiming wasn’t some joyous bond. It was a chain, a rope around your neck. Something you needed to escape.”

  “I understand,” he promised her. “And now I, too, set you free. We are not Mates. I place no chains upon you.”

  Lily scowled off into the desert, blinking furiously. When she spoke, her words were rough with tears. “If you choose to wear it, it’s a ‘fashion statement’ – not a dog collar.”

  If you choose…

  All morning his Dragon had lain coiled, wrapped in misery. Now its head rose. Its nostrils flared as it scented the air, unsure it had understood…

  Did she just choose… me?

  “Of course, I know you’re not interested in me. Not after the mess I made at your Lair. I’d be a…”

  “Lily, no!” he breathed, shocked that she could doubt herself. “You are fierce and beautiful, wild and untamed. But I love you! With all my heart! There is no other woman I want beside me, at home and in battle.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, strangely vulnerable. “I mean, I don’t clean up well. I’m a hot mess.”

  “And I’m a cold fish, awkward and formal.”

  “Eh, you’re not that bad.” Now her smile stole back, impish and playful. “Once I got used to you, you’re pretty funny.”