Dragon Storm (Dawn of the Dragon Queen Book 2) (23 page)

“I have prepared the upstairs back room for you,” Josef said. “You will find a basin of water and a change of clothes.”

Fiona leaned against the table, so tired she could barely lift her head. “Thank you, Josef.”

Before she knew what was happening, Duncan had scooped her into his arms and was carrying her upstairs. She sat at the foot of the bed, numbly obeying as he removed her clothes and scrubbed her with a damp rag. She was too tired to be modest as he ran his hands down her bare arms and back, but when the cool cloth grazed her breasts, she instinctively laid back with a moan.

“That feels good,” she murmured.

As tired as she was, her senses awakened when he ran the cloth over her abdomen. Much to her chagrin, he stopped before reaching the mound between her thighs. He lifted each leg, cleaning one and then the other, running the rag from her buttocks and to the tender cups beneath her feet.

“You missed a spot,” she drawled before biting down on her lip, flushed with desire.

“You will have to do it.” Duncan held the rag out to her. “I don’t trust myself to touch you there.”

She pushed his hand down. “But I trust you.”

His eyes darkened, his features hardening to a mask of stone. “You and I both know what this will lead to.”

“Aye, Duncan,” she said as she held her arms out to him. “I know
exactly
what this will lead to.”

G
abriel searched among the piles of bodies, exhaling a sigh of relief when he didn’t spy a mass of flame-red hair among the victims. He quickly turned from the stench. As the clouds parted, and the Texas sun bore down on the island, the smell of bloated corpses got stronger. More than once, Gabriel had come close to passing out. Even though he and many of the survivors wore kerchiefs over their faces, the masks did little to diminish the stench of death.

“Gabriel!” Gabriel’s youngest brother, Manny, bounded toward him. He stopped long enough to remove his mask and catch his breath before blurting, “Safina’s alive!”

Gabriel swore his heart stopped beating for an eternal second, as everything around him—people mourning the loss of their loved ones, crews digging bodies out of the rubble, children crying for their parents—went silent. As he stood in the center of so much devastation and destruction, Manny had given him a beacon of light.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

Manny thumbed behind him. “At Papi’s house.”

Gabriel’s chest squeezed so hard, he had to bend over, steadying his hands on his thighs to keep from passing out. The last time he’d seen his mate, she was being kidnapped by the villain who’d stabbed him in the gut. And though Gabriel had feared the worst, he’d had no time to mourn Safina, as he battled the hurricane. After the storm had passed, and the midnight moon shone down on the ruins, Gabriel didn’t think Safina could have survived such devastation. All the homes on the west side of the island had been destroyed. Lydia’s home had only survived through Gabriel’s magic.

Manny leaned over him, patting him on the back. “You all right?”

Gabriel nodded. “Just give me a minute.” He slowly stood as his heartrate slowed to nearly normal. “And her family?”

Manny flashed a boyish grin. “They are well.”

Gabriel’s hand trembled as he grabbed his brother’s shoulder. “I need to see her.”

“Come on.”

Gabriel was happy to escape the gloom, if only to hold Safina for a few moments, but he knew he needed to help the others dig for bodies; a gruesome chore, but one that needed to be done.

Two of his brothers, Pedro and Raul, climbed down from a pile of rubble, dragging the body of a man behind them.

He whistled to them and waved his arms. “Safi’s alive!”

They gave him a thumbs-up and went back to work.

Just as Gabriel was about to follow Manny, he stopped cold. Something about that corpse was eerily familiar. He bounded across the rubble until he was upon his brothers.

He hissed sharply when he saw the lifeless eyes of his attacker, Dr. Straw, staring up at him. The cane Dr. Straw had used to rip open Gabriel’s guts was protruding from the man’s chest. His eyes bulged, his mouth hanging open, as if his face was frozen in a permanent state of shock.

“I know that man,” Gabriel growled. As much as Gabriel wanted to celebrate the doctor’s death, seeing his lifeless body only brought back painful memories. He couldn’t wait for the doctor to be buried, along with the past.

“Who is it?” Pedro asked, mopping sweat off his brow.

Gabriel scowled. “It’s that
pendejo
, Dr. Straw.” He pointed to the cane in the man’s chest. “He stabbed me with this.”

“Hold it just a minute!”

An older, stocky man with sharp, grey eyes approached them. Gabriel recognized him as Colin O’Leary, a strongman who worked for a local saloon. Gabriel had witnessed a few occasions where O’Leary had thrown grown men out on the street and knew he was not a man to be crossed.

His iron-eyed glare focused on Gabriel before he stared down at the corpse. “You found Dr. Straw?” He kicked the body, and it made a gruesome, wet sound like a fish hitting a butcher block. O’Leary squinted at the corpse and chuckled. “He owed a lot of people money in this town.” He nudged Gabriel. “Check his pockets.”

Gabriel swallowed as a sense of unease twisted his gut. Dr. Straw was a snake, but Gabriel still didn’t like the idea of rummaging through a dead man’s pockets.

“Well, go on!” O’Leary commanded. “Or lift him, and I’ll do it.” He tapped his knee. “Haven’t been able to bend this leg since the war.

Gabriel heaved a groan before kneeling and turning out the doctor’s pockets. He found a velvet bag in the man’s vest and tugged on the drawstring, surprised to find several pieces of expensive-looking jewelry.

He held the jewelry out to O’Leary. “I doubt this is his.”

O’Leary frowned. “Stolen, no doubt. We’ll have to bring this to the chief and see if anyone claims it. If not, it will help pay down the doctor’s debt.”

Gabriel stood, brushing his hands on his pants, trying to get the feel of Straw’s stiff corpse off his fingertips. A shot rang out so loudly, it nearly split his skull in two. He lurched forward, falling on top of the doctor’s body. The blast had somehow thrown him off balance. He thought he heard his brothers screaming, but their voices sounded more and more distant as his world began to fade.

* * *

Duncan knew he looked like an animal caught in a snare as he gaped at Fiona, but he couldn’t help himself. And though he’d dreamed of this moment for so long, he couldn’t help but have doubts. She was asking to bond with the man who’d murdered her mother.

“Lass,” he rasped, struggling to find the courage to refuse the one thing in the world he wanted more than anything. “You are tired. You need rest.”

“I know. But I need you more.”

He dropped the rag on the bed. “You don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to, Duncan.” She leaned up on her elbows, her pretty hair fanned out across the bed, her alluring nude body a temptation that was becoming harder to refuse.

He shook his head, hating himself for denying her. “I don’t want you living an eternity regretting this.”

She sat up, grabbing his thigh, her mouth dangerously close to his groin as she looked up at him with alluring amber eyes. “My only regret is that I waited five hundred years to again feel your lips on mine.”

He fell on the bed beside her, searching her gaze for any sign of deception. Though he wanted so badly to take her in his arms once more, he feared she only wished to restore the bond to give Safina immortality. He wanted that for Safina, too, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Fiona loathing herself afterward.

He stroked her cheek. “Lass,” he whispered, “think of what you’re asking.”

She placed her hand on his, leaning into him. “I saw my parents last night. I nearly drowned, and they came to me in a dream. My father was dismembered by the Knights Templar, his body parts hidden in boxes.” She paused, swallowing. “When you killed my mother, you freed my father from a lifetime of torture. You set them both free.”

Though it was a sad tale, if it were true, perhaps Fiona could find it in her heart to forgive him. “It was still wrong, what I did. Had I known what she was, I would have never….”

“She has long since forgiven you,” she interrupted, placing a finger on his lips, “and she asks that I do the same.”

Duncan’s throat tightened, his chest feeling as if it were being crushed. “And do you forgive me, lass?”

She nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I forgive you, and I love you.”

Duncan had heard all he needed to hear. He took her in his arms, kissing her neck and the lobe of her ear. “And I love you, lass, with all my heart. I’ve loved you for the past five hundred years, and I will love you forever more.”

They took turns washing, laughing as they splashed each other. She toyed and teased his member until he thought he’d explode. When he’d finally had enough, he rolled her over with a growl, sinking into her warm heat with one fluid thrust.

He held steady deep inside her, whispering words of affection in her ear before kissing her brow, the tip of her nose, and her lips. She opened her mouth to him, groaning as their tongues sparred with one another. He reached between them, teasing that swollen juncture and coaxing more fluids from her core. He thrust again and again, until they fell into a rhythm that neither of them could stop.

All outside sounds seemed to fade away. There was just their labored breathing, the slippery sound of their bodies moving together, and the erratic pounding of their hearts. Duncan smiled when he realized he felt her heart beating as if it were his own. He also sensed heat building between her thighs and her need for fulfillment. They were bonded once again.

As he carried her over into one climax and then another, he could no longer hold back his own. He spilled his seed deep within her, crying out as her sheath clenched around him, milking him until every last drop was spent.

He collapsed beside her, taking her in his arms and kissing her senseless. She whimpered and stroked him, grinding against his groin, his staff still inside her. He swelled again, rolling her over once more, and they surrendered to that timeless dance of soul-searing love and carnal pleasure.

“G
abriel?” Manny held his brother’s head in his lap as blood poured out of Gabriel’s mouth. He turned to his other brothers and cried. “We need to get him to the healer!”

But they weren’t listening. They were arguing with two gringos, who had shotguns pointed at their chests.

One of the men, a wiry blond with a lazy eye, aimed his shotgun at Pedro when he tried to charge him. “Stand back, hombre, or you’re next.”

“What’s the meaning of this?” O’Leary boomed.

The blond’s companion, a man with a shaved head, a black eye, and two missing front teeth, spit a wad of tobacco into the mud. “We thought he was a negro robbin’ a corpse.”

“Bobby.” His friend nodded toward Gabriel’s lifeless body. “That ain’t no negro.”

“It’s a Mexican.” Bobby shrugged. “Close enough.”

“You stupid son of a bitch!” O’Leary yelled. He yanked the cane out of the doctor’s chest, and in one clean sweep, knocked their shotguns out of their hands. Then he thrust the blade right through Bobby’s chest. He withdrew the cane, and Bobby fell face-forward at O’Leary’s feet.

His friend took off at a run, screaming for the police.

O’Leary rolled up his sleeves before spitting on Bobby’s body. “You boys get the hell out of here. I’ll handle the chief.”

* * *

Fiona lay in the crook of Duncan’s arm, her head resting on the heart that beat in accord with hers. She closed her eyes and smiled, sensing Safina’s pulse beating softly nearby. Their bond was restored.

A chorus of frantic male voices shattered her tranquility. She sat up and looked at Duncan. He slipped from the bed and looked out the window.

When he turned to her, all color had drained from his face.

“What is it, Duncan?”

His eyes turned as hard as stone. “They’re carrying Gabriel. Get dressed.” He tossed her dress at her and slid into his torn trews.

Fiona hastily fastened the buttons on her gown. No sooner had she left her room than she heard her daughter’s blood-curdling scream.

Fiona’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh, Almighty Mother, please,” she cried.

She raced down the stairs after Duncan, straining her neck to look above Josef’s grandson’s shoulders. Her heart beat wildly when she saw Gabriel’s corpse beside Mrs. Jenkens’s body, his lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling as Josef and Safina cried over him.

“Out of my way!” she screamed.

The crowd parted, and she fell on Gabriel, running her hands over his wound. Safina’s hands shook as she joined her, but no matter how hard they tried, his wound would not heal.

“Why isn’t it working?” Safina wailed.

Fiona looked at Safina through tear-soaked eyes. “Because we are too late.”

“No!” Safina ripped open his shirt and pressed harder on the gaping cavity in his chest. She sobbed convulsively, breaths coming in gasps, screaming at Gabriel to wake.

Oh, how her heart broke for her daughter. Never before had Fiona known such sorrow, not even after the loss of her own dear mother, for nothing was more heartbreaking than watching her child suffer.

“Safina.” Fiona grabbed her daughter’s arm. “Safina, stop.”

Safina jerked away, shaking her off with a growl. “No, no, I won’t stop!”

“Safina,” Fiona pleaded, though it broke her heart to say the words aloud, “he’s gone.”

A fire lit in Safina’s eyes. “Don’t say that!” She shook her mate’s shoulders. “Gabriel!”

Fiona gently pried Safina off him, pulling her into an embrace. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

Safina shoved her away, pointing an accusatory finger. “You did this! You broke my bond, and you killed him!”

“No.” Fiona stepped back, thankful when Duncan wrapped a comforting arm around her waist. “We restored the bond.”

“You were too late!” Safina shrieked. “He was my soul mate, and you killed him!”