Wallace was making his way to the emergency exit. Brady struggled through the gyrating dancers and caught the door before it could close. The exit led out into an alley. One lone streetlamp stood at the mouth, casting a sickly yellow light across the shadows.
“Wallace!” Brady shouted.
A moment later, Wallace stepped out of a dark corner. The smile on his face was almost insane, but his eyes were steady and cold. He looked Brady up and down, shaking his head.
“So, you’re the boyfriend,” he said and wrinkled his nose, sniffing the air. “Dragon shifter, if I’m not mistaken. Shame. She could do a lot better.”
“If you come here again, I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Sic your police dog on me?” Wallace laughed. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, Markonian.”
The urge to shift was almost overwhelming, but he knew if he took his dragon form, he would kill Wallace where he stood. As much as he despised him, Brady didn’t want Wallace’s death on his conscience for the rest of his life.
“I’m going to have her eventually,” Wallace continued. “It’s just a matter of time. You won’t stop me.” He chuckled, a nasty sound. “I mean, here we are. Alone. A bear and a dragon. And you don’t even have the balls to shift right now.”
In an instant, Wallace transformed. A ten-foot-tall bear stood in his place, muzzle open and dripping with drool. He looked at Brady with cold, black eyes.
I, on the other hand, don’t have that problem.
The voice blasted through Brady’s mind just as Wallace swiped at him with a massive claw. Brady jumped away, but not quickly enough. The claws caught him across the chest, leaving four deep slashes. Brady fell backwards as Wallace towered over him.
If she doesn’t come to me, she will die, Wallace’s voice boomed in Brady’s mind. But you will die first.
Wallace’s bear form roared, its huge mouth jagged with yellowed teeth, and he raised his arm to take another swipe at Brady, this time going for the head.
The crack of a gunshot echoed through the alley. Wallace reared back as the bullet hit him in the shoulder. Brady twisted around to see Zack standing in the exit, aiming to take another shot.
Still in bear form, Wallace raced away, growling and leaving a trail of blood.
“You okay?” Zack asked, helping Brady to his feet.
“Been better.” He touched his torn chest and felt for damage. The cuts were deep, but not life-threatening. Yet. It could have been worse; Wallace had been aiming for his belly. “I’ve got to get Casey out of here.”
“I’ll help you get her to your apartment—”
“No. He probably already knows where we all live. He’ll come for her wherever she is.”
“So, where else is there to go?” Zack asked. “The moon?”
Brady smiled tightly. He knew a place.
16
Casey
The first thing Casey saw was the blood on Brady’s shirt. He made his way through the crowd to the bar and she ran to meet him halfway. He had been slashed across the chest, his shirt and flesh torn to ribbons.
“Oh, my God...Brady!” She grabbed a clean towel from the bar and pressed it against his chest. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“We need to leave,” Brady said, taking her hand. “Right now.”
A coldness settled in Casey’s stomach. “Evan?”
Brady nodded, already pulling her away from the bar. He moved so quickly she had to half-run to keep up with him. Sweat beaded his forehead and he clutched the towel to his chest with his free hand.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He didn’t answer, grimacing as he opened the steel door that led down to the cellar. He gestured for her to go first, taking another quick look around the club. Then, he ducked in behind her.
“Go, go, go!” he whispered, leading her down the rickety steps. Two flights down, they were in the sub-cellar. Brady dropped Casey’s hand and went to the Arch, flattening his bloody right hand against a stone. The Arch immediately came to life, casting a faint blue light into the darkness of the room.
“What are you doing?” Casey asked, taking a step back.
“We have to go.” Brady took her hand again. He looked into her eyes, as direct and honest as he’d ever been. “Do you trust me?”
Casey hesitated a moment. “Y-yeah. I do.”
“Close your eyes,” Brady said as he led her towards the doorway of the Arch. “Whatever happens, I’m with you.”
Before she knew it, he was stepping into the shimmering space between their worlds.
And she was pulled in after him.
Casey couldn’t help but open her eyes. She was in a swirling vortex of light, weightless. The only tactile sense she had was Brady’s hand in hers. The music she had heard before was louder now, light and peaceful, at odds with the frenzy of lights. She looked at Brady and saw that he was watching her reaction. He looked as if he were underwater, his features trembling from the forces all around them.
And then…
Her next step was into a well-kept garden. Brady had fallen to his knees, clutching at his wounded chest. Casey struggled to help him stand, putting one of his arms around her shoulders as she tried to lever him to his feet.
“We’re here,” he whispered. “Home.”
His eyes fluttered and closed, his body going limp against her. She staggered under his full weight but kept her balance.
“Is anybody here?” she yelled. “We need help! Please!”
Casey looked around. Another arch stood behind them, and they seemed to be in the center of a courtyard surrounded by high stone walls. It’s his castle, Casey realized. I’m in his world now.
Brady groaned in pain and Casey limped along the crushed stone path that led into the cavernous castle. “Help!” Her shout was almost a scream. “Please!”
There was movement in the doorway leading inside the castle. A spider monkey ventured out first, followed by a lion. Casey stared in wonder as animals of all species gathered. Great apes. Bears. Panthers. Eagles. An ear-splitting screech echoed from above. Casey looked up to see a black-scaled dragon gliding to earth on ebony wings.
Who are you?
The voice boomed in her head, deep and commanding. The dragon gracefully landed, tucking in its wings as it rose to its full height above Casey. It was at least fifteen feet tall, its scales as polished as obsidian. It lowered its head for a better look at Casey, and she saw something familiar in its amber eyes.
“Brady is hurt,” Casey managed to say, somehow controlling her fear. “Please. He needs help now. I think he’s bleeding to death.”
The dragon looked away, tilting its head in the direction of the crowd. Immediately, a pair of lions stepped forward. one male and one female, shifting into human form as they reached Casey and Brady. Without a word, they took Brady from her and carried him into the castle. Casey sobbed with relief, covering her mouth as hot tears filled her eyes.
You are with Braydon?
Casey wiped her eyes with her sleeve and looked up at the dragon again, nodding. “I am.”
She felt the dragon’s eyes bore into her, silently judging. Despite her fear, she straightened her back and tilted up her chin, meeting the dragon’s gaze directly.
You are human?
“Yes.”
A buzz of voices erupted inside her mind, a cacophony of whispers and murmurs. She held her head, wincing from the sudden blast of pain. All around her, the shifters were looking at each other, then at her. She realized that they were talking about her telepathically and that she could hear their thoughts as clearly as she could hear the dragon’s.
“I’m sorry if I’m trespassing,” Casey said aloud. “I don’t mean any harm.”
The dragon huffed and the hot breath blasted Casey. It stretched its wings out to their full extension, nearly twenty feet across, and clawed at the ground with its lower talons. Casey half-expected to be hit by a torrent of fire.
Instead,
the dragon shifted into its human form: a beautiful woman with coal-black hair and amber eyes dressed in a long black tunic.
Brady’s mother, Casey realized. The Queen. She didn’t know if she should bow or curtsy or shake her hand.
“How was my son wounded?” the Queen asked, her voice low and smoky.
“He was protecting me.” Casey cleared her throat and fought to keep her bearings. “He was attacked by a bear shifter.”
Another murmur of activity from the crowd burst inside Casey’s mind. She winced and closed her eyes for a moment, waiting for the abrupt jab of pain to cease.
“Are you Brady’s mate?”
Casey’s mouth dropped, her words failing her. She shook her head slightly. “I...I don’t know. Maybe?”
The Queen smiled faintly. “All right.” She looked into the crowd. “Dorris? Are you here?”
A beautiful spotted doe gracefully slipped away from the others. She shifted as she approached Casey, transforming into a young woman with chestnut hair and wide, innocent eyes.
“Yes, my Queen?”
“Please take…” The Queen glanced at Casey again. “I’m sorry...who are you?”
“Casey Donahue.” Casey began to curtsy and stopped herself just in time.
“Please take Casey inside. She needs a bath and clean clothing.” The Queen stepped closer to Casey, her smile growing warmer. “Thank you for saving my son, Casey.”
“He saved me.” Casey felt tears burning behind her eyes and tamped them down. Now wasn’t the time. Not until she knew Brady would be okay. Until then, no tears.
The Queen nodded. “He tends to do that sort of thing.”
17
Casey
After a long soak in a hot bath, Casey was given her own tunic. The material was rough, almost like burlap, but its color was a deep emerald. There were no frills on it, just like the other clothes she had seen so far. It was utilitarian, as were the cloth slippers she was given. She remembered what Brady had told her about the shifters from his world. They tended to remain in their animal forms, shifting to human only if and when they felt like it. Clothes weren’t exactly a priority here.
The tunic was shapeless but comfortable, if not a little itchy. The collar was rounded, exposing her collarbone, and the sleeves were impractically long. The hem of the dress flared slightly, with small slits on either side. A thin woven belt cinched the waist. All in all, it wasn’t too bad...she just wished they believed in underwear. Going commando was going to take some getting used to.
Casey wanted to find Brady immediately, but Dorris insisted on preparing Casey’s hair first. I don’t need a makeover, Casey thought angrily. I need to see Brady.
She sat grudgingly as Dorris combed and braided her hair, twisting it into an elaborate coil atop her head. Every second felt like hours.
“I can understand why Prince Braydon chose you,” Dorris said, smiling as she tucked in the last few stray hairs.
“He hasn’t ‘chosen’ me.” Casey felt her cheeks grow warm. “He’s helping me with a...situation. That’s all.”
“Of course,” Dorris said with a faint smile. “As you say.”
“Will you take me to him now? Please?”
“Yes, m’lady.”
Dorris led Casey through endless hallways until they reached a stone staircase that wound upward into a turret. There were no handrails, so even though Dorris nearly skipped up the steps with grace and ease, Casey clung to the wall, not daring to look anywhere but the next step. Small windows allowed enough light into the staircase to see, but Casey couldn’t imagine how dangerous it would be at night. Managing a torch and keeping her balance on these stairs seemed like it would be an impossible task.
By the time they reached the quarters at the top, Casey felt as if her heart was going to burst out of her chest. She held up a hand for Dorris to wait a moment as she wheezed for breath. Dorris, of course, hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Casey had another reason to delay the moment. She was afraid Brady’s wounds had been too serious for help. She could vividly imagine him lying cold and still. No more smiles. No more soft touches. No more...Brady.
Enough, she thought, taking a deep breath and calming herself. Her hands still trembled and her stomach rolled with anxiety, but she managed to control the worst of it. She nodded at Dorris, who went ahead of her and opened the heavy wooden door.
The first thing Casey focused on was the bed. Brady lay there, covered with a sheet, his chest wrapped in thick bandages. His face was so bloodless that for an awful moment, Casey thought she had been right, that he had died. She walked towards the bed silently, only peripherally aware of the others in the room.
“Brady…” she whispered. She took his hand and held it gently. His skin was cool to the touch. Tears filled her eyes, trickling over her cheeks. “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry…”
Brady’s eyes fluttered and he blinked, slowly waking. He turned his face towards Casey and smiled weakly. “You’re forgiven…” he murmured.
Casey dropped to her knees beside the bed and hugged Brady as gingerly but as tightly as she could. He winced and chuckled softly.
“Hey, hey...it’s alright.” He stroked her back with his free hand. His right arm was bound in a sling. “I’m okay.”
Casey raised her head, her cheeks wet with tears. “I told you I’d kill you if you got hurt!” She buried her face in the crook of his neck again. “Don’t do that to me!”
Her vision of his death had been so vivid that it took a few minutes for her to fully accept that Brady was alive, if not exactly in one piece. She pulled away from him, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her dress and choked out a laugh. Casey gently brushed Brady’s hair away from his forehead, gazing at him so intensely that she didn’t hear the faint “ahem.”
“I suppose you’re Casey,” a male voice said.
Casey blinked and looked across the bed. Brady’s parents stood there, trying to hide the knowing smiles on their faces. His father was tall, with ginger-blond hair and pale blue eyes. He wore a short, buttoned tunic over roughly sewn pants. The Queen held his hand and nodded her greeting to Casey.
“Oh…” Casey awkwardly struggled to her feet. “Your...Majesties?”
It occurred to her that she had no idea how to act around royalty.
“I am Gareth.” His voice was pleasantly husky. “You’ve already met my wife, Elana.”
Casey nodded. “Yes, I have.” She looked over to Elana and smiled. “Hello again.”
“Elana tells me that you saved my son’s life.”
“Oh, no...I don’t think—”
“She did,” Brady said as he took her hand.
“I didn’t do anything but yell for help,” Casey said, looking from Brady to Gareth to Elana. “Really, that’s it.”
“It was enough,” Elana said quietly. “We thank you.”
Casey opened her mouth to argue again, but quickly closed it and smiled, nodding her head in acceptance. Brady squeezed her hand gently and winked.
“Braydon has told us of your problems,” Gareth said. “We would like to invite you to stay here with us for as long as you need.”
Casey looked over at Brady, who was smiling.
“I…” She stopped fighting for words and simply nodded again. “Thank you.”
“We’ll have a celebration,” Gareth said with a wide smile. “All day and night. Lots of food and music and dancing—”
“Then hadn’t we better start planning it?” Elana asked, taking his arm and leading him out of the room. “Let’s give them some time to...talk.”
“What?” Gareth frowned in confusion for a moment, then seemed to understand what Elana was saying. “Yes, yes, of course.” He looked back to Brady as Elana led him to the door. “Try to keep out of trouble for a while, yes?”
Brady nodded and smiled. “Yes, Father.”
After they left, Casey gingerly sat on the edge of Brady’s bed, still holding his hand. “So, how are you really?�
��
“Just a little sore.” He glanced down at the bandages on his chest. “This should be healed almost completely by tomorrow morning.”
“What? How…” Casey caught herself and laughed quietly, shaking her head. “Wait, never mind. Magic. Of course, it exists here.”
“Something like that.” Brady shifted his head on his pillow to get a better look at her. “How are you doing?”
“Quietly freaking out,” Casey said and smiled. “But everyone seems very nice. I like your parents.”
“They have their moments.”
Casey made herself look away from him. She stood and walked to the other side of the room. The open-air bed chamber was round, with a high ceiling and visible rafters. A huge window stretched around the circumference, stone pillars rising every fifteen feet or so to support the roof. The view was breathtaking. The countryside outside the castle walls was heavily wooded, the trees so thick that the multicolored rolling hills looked as if they’d been carpeted. She could see the village surrounding the castle within the fortress walls. Thatched roofs on houses made of mud and stone. Fields stretched for miles, ready for harvest.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said, and turned back to Brady. “Why did you leave?”
“Why does anyone leave home?” Brady winced as he sat up higher in bed. “I wanted something different. And my family needed a guardian for the Arch. Everything worked out for everybody.”
“Don’t you miss it here?” Casey thought for a moment of the farm she had left when she went to college. Her parents were good people, solid and kind. It had broken her heart to leave them, but she swore she’d be back eventually. Until that second, she hadn’t realized how much she missed them.
“I do and I don’t.” Brady half-smiled. “I love my family and I love this place, but I don’t want to rule it after Father dies.”
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