Dragon Void (Immortal Dragons Book 2) (9 page)

Evie’s small form pressed into him a few moments later, molding herself to him as though she were meant to be at his side. He slipped an arm around her and pressed his lips to the top of her head, still staring at the photograph.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, her voice quavering.

“Your grandmother said…” He looked down at her and shrugged, still confused. “Honestly, I’m not really sure what she said. Just that I shouldn’t go to Vietnam. But Evie, I won’t have a
choice
if my number comes up.”

She moved around to face him, resting her palms on either side of his face. Her fingers slid through his hair, making his scalp tingle, and her deep brown eyes held his gaze. He longed to hold her tight, to take comfort in her soft curves and the taste of her lips, but his heart nearly stopped when he finally registered the terrified look in her eyes.

“Nanyo is a little bit psychic, so if she told you something, please take it seriously. She’s had visions my entire life, and they’ve always come true.”

“What did she say to you?” he asked, lifting a hand to brush a stray tear from her cheek. “Whatever it was, it upset you for some reason.”

“She said if I don’t keep you from leaving, you’ll die over there. Marcus, I don’t know if we’re meant to be together forever, but I don’t want to lose you now.”

He held her tighter. “I don’t want to lose you, either.” But the call would come, he was sure of it. Whether or not he would answer it, he didn’t know anymore.

Chapter Fifteen

Marcus

New York

Spring, 1966

M
arcus had almost started to believe having Evie in his life had charmed him somehow. Months passed with no contact from the Draft Board. No ominous summons to report for induction. Her brothers, Iszak and Lukas, even seemed to warm to him finally, and the four of them had become closer. He spent more time at their house than at his own small apartment, unless he and Evie craved time to themselves.

Oddly, her family didn’t seem to have any hang-ups about the pair of them spending the night together in Evie’s bed, which they did frequently. Even her grandmother gave him sly looks in the mornings over breakfast. He still preferred to take her home with him when he really wanted to make her sing.

They spent Christmas together that first year, going caroling around the neighborhood, to the delight of every single household they stopped before. Evie even praised Marcus’s singing voice, which he knew was, by far, the least impressive. The Norths were the most talented musical family he’d ever known. The brothers seemed to be able to play just about any instrument they picked up. Evie usually sang, but he learned she was just as clever with a saxophone or guitar as her brothers.

For those glorious months of their relationship, they spent nearly every day together in between Evie’s singing gigs and his own work as a charter pilot for a small Westchester airport. Life was so perfect his mind began to shift gears—to risk considering taking a bigger step and making things more permanent between them.

Rather than go to the regular Friday evening dinner he had a standing invitation for at the North residence, he told Evie he wanted to take her out instead. He gathered his meager savings and found a jewelry shop in his neighborhood on the way home that afternoon. With the ring in his pocket, he went home to change clothes. She would come to him in just a few hours, since their favorite restaurant was in his neighborhood, so he had time.

He hustled through his door, grabbing the mail before taking the stairs two at a time, his entire body thrumming with anxious excitement.

It wasn’t until he was sitting on the bed, tying his shoes that he happened to glance at the scattered envelopes on his desk and his skin instantly turned to ice. On top of the stack was an unmistakably
official
-looking piece of mail, with an emblem in the corner that could only mean one thing. Marcus reached out a shaky hand and grasped the corner of the envelope, right over the presidential seal. He didn’t want to open it. Couldn’t open it, because that would make it all too real if he did.

In a daze he stood and shrugged into his jacket, stuffed the envelope blindly into the inside pocket, and left the apartment. He needed to breathe for a few minutes, to try to fend off the sense of his world crashing down around him. He walked aimlessly until he found himself stumbling down the steps into the bar around the corner from his place. Without thinking he ordered three shots of bourbon and stared at his hands.

The bartender raised an eyebrow and poured. “I’m guessing it’s not good news from the look on your face,” he said.

Without answering, Marcus tugged the envelope from his pocket and laid it on the bar. From his other pocket he withdrew the tiny velvet box and opened it, setting it atop the envelope. The glimmering jewel in the ring seemed to mock him for letting himself be too happy.

The bartender’s mouth tightened into a grim line and he lined up three more shot glasses. “On the house today, mate. You need this more than I need the money.”

And as if to drive the point home, the radio behind the bar announced yet another protest and slew of men being arrested for burning their draft cards.

“Fucking bullshit, all of it,” a slurring patron two seats down from him said. “You should take her away, if you love her. Don’t let the goddamn government tell you how to live your life. What’s it for, anyway? This ain’t our war.”

Marcus downed another shot and glanced sidelong at the stranger. The man was older and had the look of a veteran. He was clean cut, wore a nice suit, and smelled like Old Spice, cigarette smoke, and whiskey. Of course, that last could have been the bar itself, but it was distinct enough that Marcus believed it came from him.

The man gestured to the items Marcus had laid on the bar. “You love her, right? The worst thing you can do to love is die for anything
but
love. If you go over there, you’ll wind up dying for nothing. Even if you don’t die, leaving will kill what you have now. Trust me.”

“I don’t exactly have any other options.”

“There’s a whole world of options,” the man said. “Run away or go to jail are the top two. Jail might be better than war, but not if you care about your girl.” He paused and fished into his jacket pocket, pulling out a flimsy pamphlet which he set on the bar next to Marcus’s drink. “I found this little gem on my windshield the other day. Thought it was pretty clever and wished I’d had that option before Korea. The place sounds nice. The best part is it’s in Canada.”

Marcus warily picked up the brochure with the photo of a smiling couple on the front, relaxed in an idyllic nature setting. “Tantric Healing,” the title read. The small logo at the bottom looked like a sword impaling the head of a dragon, which was totally at odds with the photo. It looked like a vacation brochure on the surface, but once he opened it up, the truth became clear.

He flipped back to stare at the front again. This “Alexandria Institute” had a clever marketing scheme. They weren’t offering a vacation, but inclusion in a research program that was specifically looking for committed couples to undergo a series of psychological and physical tests over the course of a year. They would be given room and board in exchange for offering their assistance with basic upkeep of the facilities and allowing themselves to be occasionally poked and prodded for the purpose of scientific advancement—while they had sex. He and Evie had fantastic sex, and the idea of being studied
while
they were doing it was oddly arousing.

The notion of running from his troubles didn’t sit quite as well with him. But if he could keep Evie in his life and avoid dying, perhaps it would be worth it.

“This looks like a hippie commune,” Marcus commented. “But a nice one. Do you know anyone who’s gone?”

The man shook his head. “Keep that. I don’t need it. All I know is that
honor
doesn’t factor in if you’re running from someone else’s problem. That war…” The man stabbed a finger at the radio. “Has nothing to do with you, me, or your girl.”

Marcus nodded his thanks. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Only if you tell me about her. What’s so special you decided to decorate her with such a shiny rock?”

Marcus smiled at the ring just before stowing it again in his pocket. He left the envelope sitting on the bar.

“If you met her, you’d understand.”

“Met who?” a lilting voice said from behind him. Marcus turned, sluggish from the alcohol, to see Evie standing behind him.

“You, baby.” He smiled at her and then frowned when her worried look registered. “What’s wrong?”

“You weren’t home when I got there. I was worried. What’s wrong? Why are you here?”

He blinked drunkenly at her and raised another shot. “Celebrating,” he said, as if that were the best explanation.

“Celebrating…” she said. “Celebrating what, exactly?”

“This man here—” Marcus gestured with the full shot glass and half the liquid sloshed over his hand. He eyed it then tossed the rest into his mouth and swallowed. He pointed the empty glass at his new friend. “He’s opened my eyes.”

Evie glanced at Marcus’s friend. Marcus struggled for a moment for an introduction before realizing he’d never gotten the man’s name. It didn’t matter now.

“This is her,” he said. “Evie. The woman I’d die for. No… I mean, she’s the woman I
live for
.”

The man turned and straightened his tailored jacket, reached out a hand to Evie, and gripped her outstretched palm, shaking it gently.

“You are more lovely than words,” he said. “No wonder he’s so in love with you.

Evie’s brows creased and she glanced once at Marcus before shaking the man’s hand and smiling.

“Thank you. I…” Before she could finish her sentence, her gaze drifted to the bar and the envelope that still sat there beside the scattered shot glasses. Her hand fell out of the man’s grasp and she turned her gaze back to Marcus.

“Is that what I think it is?” Her delicate finger pointing at the creamy white rectangle that held Marcus’s fate sealed inside.

“Yeah… I haven’t opened it. I already know what it says, though.”

“Oh, Marcus.” She wrapped her arms around him and he reveled in the contact. He could die happy in her embrace. He would rather die happy in her embrace than anywhere else.

He held tight to her, dimly aware of his friend shifting off his barstool and moving away.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you came. I needed to think.”

Evie nodded and plucked at the corner of the envelope. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

Her tone was pensive, hesitant to ask the real question he was sure she wanted to ask. He silently thanked her for not articulating the thing that had to be torturing her already. Would he go?

He loved her for that. Christ, he loved her for everything, but he’d put this off long enough. He knew what was inside, but unless he opened the envelope, he’d be a blind fool who never took real action in his life. He just needed her there with him when it happened.

Marcus let out a deep breath and picked up the envelope, ripped it open, and read the letter. Nothing in it gave him any respite from his decision. It was all exactly what he expected.

He turned it sideways and tore it in half. Then folded the pieces together and ripped them through the center. When he was done, the letter was nothing more than a pile of fragments on the floor around them. It might be the only confetti they ever got.

The ring rested heavily in his pocket, pressing against his heart. He couldn’t ask her to marry him when he was about to ask her to leave her life for another reason. He wanted her to come not because she felt obliged to join him, but because she genuinely wanted to be with him. Once they got to that beautiful place in the brochure, he’d ask.

“We’re going to leave. Together, I hope.”

“Why wouldn’t we be together?”

“You have nothing to run from, Evie. I do. But if you’re not going to come with me, then I have no reason to run.”

“Then I guess I need to go home and pack, huh?” She gave him a shaky half-smile that told him everything. Her eyes filled with tears, and all he could do was kiss her.

She clung to him while they kissed. If they weren’t in public, he’d have made love to her as fiercely as he could, just to remind her how much he loved her.

“Marcus, go. Pick me up tomorrow. I’ll go wherever you want us to go. As long as I’m with you, it doesn’t matter.”

She pulled away and he clung to her hand, unwilling to lose contact with her now. She might not come back, but he had no real reason to doubt her. She’d never lied before, but there was always a first time. And this ordeal would be one to run from if she chose to run.

“Marcus,” she said softly, “I am never letting you go. I promise I’ll go with you.”

“Tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She gave him a long look and then fell into his arms again, kissing him so desperately she left him dazed when she released him, nothing more than a blur of motion when she disappeared through the doors of the bar.

“Sounds like you have your answer,” his friend said. “Don’t disappoint her. She’s worth living for.”

Didn’t he know it…

Marcus threw his money on the bar and stumbled out the doors. He just hoped he was worth running away for.

Chapter Sixteen

Marcus

Dragon Monastery, Sunda Islands

Present Day

M
arcus opened his eyes when a soft hand brushed across his forehead. The image that greeted him was of a beautiful, dark-haired woman with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. She gazed down at him solemnly, her irises flickering with inner light.

Something in her aura was familiar, reminding him of the dragons who had carried him and Evie away from Hell.

“Welcome back,” she said in a low, soft voice that resonated in his mind the way the black dragon’s voice had. “I’m Belah. My brother, Ked, wanted to make sure you were taken care of. Are you in any pain?”

Marcus shook his head. As his gaze drifted over the room, he saw Evie’s brothers standing nearby and grimaced. They both glowered at him with their arms crossed. He deserved it.

The woman glanced over her shoulder. “Please leave. He won’t hurt me, and you’re distressing him.”

“We should kill him,” Lukas said. “After what he did, why should we let him live?”

“Because nothing you do can kill him. It would be a waste of effort. He’s an Elite Ultiori hunter. They can’t be killed, except by dragon fire. If you want specifics, go talk to my brother—he’s the only one of us who has ever killed an Elite.” Her gaze held theirs, unwavering until the brothers let their arms fall to their sides and stalked out of the room.

As he left, Iszak turned back. “Be careful with him. Call us if anything happens.”

The woman only nodded slightly and turned back to Marcus when the door closed.

She smiled down at him, her gaze filled with sympathy. “Forgive my mates. They’re extraordinarily overprotective of me lately.” Her hand rested lightly on her abdomen, the slight gesture more than enough to indicate the reasons.

Marcus chuckled. “The North brothers settled down, huh? I never imagined that was possible. And both of them with you? My condolences.”

Belah laughed, and the entire room brightened. Christ, she was a beautiful woman. He inhaled sharply at the effect she had on him, his brows twitching in confusion. Somehow all his emotions seemed to rise to the surface at once and he felt compelled to confess every one of his sins to her.

“They are my heart, but they’re hurting now,” she said. “They don’t know quite how to deal with you yet, but they’ll come around, if you help them.”

Marcus closed his eyes. “There’s no reason they should come around. I deserve their hatred. If I hadn’t been so terrified of losing Evie, I’d never have taken her away.”

Belah clutched his chin and he opened his eyes. “You were following a path Fate laid out for you. Never blame yourself for that. Lukas and Iszak may not forgive you, but I know what’s in your heart. I saw every moment of your dreams while you were unconscious. I know your heart now, too. You are linked to my brother in some way I can’t even fathom, but your love for Evie is as bright as any star. Don’t give up on her, Marcus. She will need you.”

“She doesn’t need me. All I did for her was bring her misery. Is she all right now? That bastard made her bleed, and not in the quiet, slow way he made me bleed. He was so brutal with her.”

He stared down at the bruise inside his elbow that was all that remained of one of many deep cuts made by his angry master. His blood drained over the hours he was bound and forced to watch Evie being whipped after the two of them had been caught together. After Evie’s whipping was when the true brutality began for her. Marcus clenched his eyes shut, wishing he could purge the memory of her beautiful wings being rended from her by
Sayid’s
hand. He deserved to suffer through it forever.

Belah wrapped her hand around his and squeezed. “She is fine. We are healing her physical wounds, but she will need to see you for her soul to fully heal. She believes you’re dead.”

That was some consolation, at least. “Let her believe I’m dead. And please, if you have any sympathy for me, make it the truth. You said it could only be dragon fire that kills me, right? So… you’re a dragon. Kill me now.” He stretched his arms wide, baring his naked chest to her. The despair inside him pressed like a heavy stone against his breast and he wished for nothing less than oblivion.

She only smiled at him.

“I won’t kill you, Marcus. First, you are more valuable to us alive. I hope you understand this. Second, if I killed you, it would destroy Evie. And my mates would never forgive me if I did that, no matter how much they go on about wishing you dead.”

“She already believes I’m dead. It won’t matter.”

“Not anymore. Ked is telling her the truth now.”

Marcus closed his eyes. In his mind he could even hear the dragon talking. He could feel the dragon’s arousal, too, it was no different than he’d felt every time he was close to Evie and somehow it didn’t surprise him a bit that his counterpart would feel exactly the same. Yet he longed for her.

“Kill me or free me. I need to be with her if you won’t let me die. And trust me, I have enough strength left to get to her if I want to.”

Belah stood and gestured toward the door. “You are not a prisoner, Marcus, in spite of what my mates might think. She is in the bath house with Ked now. Find the widest path and follow it up the hill. You should have no trouble finding my brother.”

Marcus sat up and stared out the door. He could see all the way through the living area to the open front door, and the flagstone path beyond. He craved her contact more than anything, yet he settled back onto the pillow.

“No. All I did was succeed in leading her into a trap. She’s finally free—I won’t burden her with my love any longer. Even if you won’t kill me, she is better off believing I am dead.”

Belah crossed her arms and scowled down at him. Her blue eyes flashed imperiously. “Just like her brothers were better off believing she was dead for fifty years? Perhaps they were, but it broke their hearts to learn the truth. They would have died to save her, and they deserved the chance to try—to have that choice. Evie deserves a chance, and so do you.”

“She
has
a chance. With him.”