Earth's Hope (29 page)

Bran loped to Fionn’s side and stared down at Adva. “I saw the humans off. Did that one”—he jerked a thumb at the dark god—“tell you aught?”

“Not yet,” Fionn replied, “but the day is young.”

“We waste time,” Nidhogg said pointedly. “We need to go inside. I’ll join with Fionn.”

Fionn’s eyes widened, but then he understood there wasn’t any other way. The dragon was much too large to squeeze through interior doorways. Besides, it wasn’t as if Nidhogg hadn’t done the same with Gwydion while they’d hunted him and Arawn in the halls of the dead.

The dragon watched him carefully. “Warming to the idea, are you?”

“What do we do with him?” Bran nudged Adva with his boot.

Power flared so bright Fionn shut his eyes. When he opened them, Adva was gone.

“Shit!” He pounded a fist skyward. “He’s gone to warn D’Chel.”

“What did ye expect?” Bran shrugged. “He probably communicated with him telepathically before he left. We’ll do the best we can. Dewi’s a powerful adversary when her dander’s up.”

Nidhogg blew steam and blasted into Fionn. The sensation rocked him to his roots. Having the dragon share his mind was one thing, but housing his physical essence felt like swimming in a tank of eels. Power ricocheted from one side of him to the other.

“Steady.” Bran took his arm. “Takes a bit of getting used to.”

“How would ye know?” Fionn grunted. Even his mouth felt alien, and forming words took a ridiculous amount of effort.

“Gwydion described it. Let’s move. I suggest we teleport. While we’ve been standing here, yon moat’s grown and things are swimming in it.”

“Are they real?” Fionn asked, recalling D’Chel was the god of illusion.

“Does it matter?”

“No,” Rune answered and took off for the fortress at a dead run.

“Come back here,” Fionn shouted. “We’re teleporting. I doona want to have to tell Aislinn ye died because an imaginary sea serpent bit you in half.”

Rune wheeled, his claws tossing up clods of dirt, and stalked back to Fionn. “Do it now,” he growled, “or I’m going after her myself.”

Admiration warmed Fionn. The wolf was a courageous companion. “Aislinn is lucky to have you.”

“I used to feel that way about you before you turned into a procrastinator.”

Fionn felt the dragon restless within him. “I agree with the wolf. Either start the spell, or I will.”

“Did ye hear that?” Fionn glanced at Bran.

“Aye. It appears the animals have spoken.” He chanted low and Fionn joined power with him.

They needn’t have bothered. At the midpoint of their casting, Nidhogg took over and the parched, dead world fell away, replaced by whitewashed castle walls.

* * * *

A force so powerful she couldn’t fight against it jerked Aislinn from Dewi’s back. It cut right through both Dewi’s warding and her own as if it weren’t there. Behind the physical force, desire licked at her, hot and urgent.

D’Chel.

No wonder he’d stood there watching her so intently. He was working on untangling her warding—and the dragon’s, once Dewi stepped in and scooped her up. She curved her hands into fists so hard her nails bit into her palms. Maybe it was good Rune wasn’t with her. It would just be one more place D’Chel might exploit her. Fionn would watch over her wolf. They’d both be there when she got out, unless they did something foolish and tried to follow her.

If I get out.

Her heart jolted in her chest. She’d beat Slototh because he wasn’t expecting her attack. When she’d tried the same tactic on D’Chel, it hadn’t worked, which meant she had to come up with something else—and goddamned fast. Her bones rattled as she dropped onto a carpeted floor. On her feet in a flash, Aislinn extended her hands to call power—if it were even possible in here. She backed into a corner because at least then her backside was covered.

Sure enough, D’Chel wavered into view and bowed low. “Like it?” he asked and swept his arms to the sides. She glanced at a lavishly appointed bedchamber. A bed sat on a raised dais surrounded with red silken curtains that appeared dusty and unused. When she looked closer, the entire room was covered thickly in dust. It coated the carpet, the armoires, chests, and table and chairs that butted against one wall.

“What happened to your last victim?” she snarked. “Looks like this room hasn’t seen much use.”

“Maybe I kept it special just for the two of us.”

“Bullshit! This isn’t even your house.”

He shrugged. “Then perhaps Perrikus kept it for you.” D’Chel winked lazily. “He and I whiled away many a pleasant hour imagining what it would be like to share your body.”

For the second time in a few minutes, Aislinn’s body reeled from shock as Dewi rolled into it. They’d done this before, and the sensation was never pleasant.

“I’ll take things from here,” the dragon informed her archly.

“No, we’ll make joint decisions,”Aislinn shot back, but she doubted Dewi took her seriously.

D’Chel drew back, and his stunning face twisted into something much less attractive. “How’d you get past my wards, dragon?”

Aislinn fought against it, but Dewi dragged her body much closer to D’Chel. Close enough she sprayed him with spittle when she said, “The MacLochlainn bond persists beyond death. Why wouldn’t it be able to defeat your simple-minded warding system?”

D’Chel crossed his arms over his chest. “How controllable is she?”

“Who are you asking about?” Dewi had taken over Aislinn’s vocal chords, and didn’t appear inclined to cede them.

He narrowed his eyes. “I was asking Aislinn about you. Any chance you’d let her out to play?”

“Not very fucking likely,” Dewi snapped.

The dark god clasped his hands behind him and paced in a small circle, obviously thinking. Aislinn was certain he hadn’t envisioned this possibility. Tension built in her nether regions, sexual heat so intense it hurt.

“Do something,” she shrieked at Dewi. “Sex is how they establish control.”

“He’ll never control me”—the dragon sounded over-confident in Aislinn’s opinion—“but what he’s doing feels quite nice. We could let him finish.”

“No we can’t, you oversexed hussy.” Aislinn remembered when Dewi had forced her to share the Minotaur’s ridiculously-sized cock. It was the darkest, kinkiest sex of her life, and she had zero desire for a repeat performance. She thought quickly. “Nidhogg would be soooo disappointed in you.”

“The only way he’d find out is—”

“If I tell him,” Aislinn finished sweetly. She writhed. It was torture not to touch her engorged nubbin.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.” Aislinn paused for emphasis. “Remember how upset he was about the Minotaur?”

While she and Dewi traded barbs, D’Chel was getting into things. He’d moved still closer to them and stripped off his leather top. Aislinn blinked against his undeniable beauty. All the dark gods were perfection incarnate, but D’Chel’s skin was a bit more golden, his body a shred more perfect. Planes of muscle cut through his broad shoulders and flat stomach, and his copper colored nipples were puckered with lust. He stroked the tented front of his leather breeches and started on the laces.

Dewi did something because the sexual sensations bombarding Aislinn fell off abruptly.

“I am not happy about this,” the dragon muttered.

Too bad, but Aislinn kept her mind mouth shut. No point antagonizing Dewi. She’d seen what the dragon could do when her dander was up. She could shatter every bone in Aislinn’s body going after an enemy. Not on purpose, but because she was used to her dragon form and simply assumed Aislinn’s human body was more robust and didn’t break quite so easily.

D’Chel gazed lazily at them. “What, no more games? You were enjoying yourselves.”

“No more games,” Dewi said. “We’re leaving.”

“I don’t think so. You may have gotten through my wards because of some magnetic attraction you have with the girl, but she’s here with you, which means you don’t have a ready exit route.”

“Is he right?” Aislinn asked, frantic. At the moment, she wasn’t sure which was worse: sharing her body with the dragon, or being stuck in the same room with D’Chel.

“Unfortunately,” Dewi mumbled. “Never fear, I’ll think of something.”

“While you’re thinking, I want my voice back.”

“Why?”

Aislinn wanted to punch something, but she didn’t have any more control over her fists than she did her tongue. “Because I’m not some child for you to pull rank on. I didn’t ask for you to come barreling into my body.”

“Next thing, you’ll be telling me you didn’t need rescuing,” Dewi said acidly.

“I didn’t. Not yet, anyway.”

“Girls, girls, this is instructive, because I’m beginning to understand your relationship, but let’s not argue.”

“What? I suppose you’d rather sit down over a meal and chat?” Aislinn was shocked when her words emerged and sent silent thanks to the dragon.

“We’d have much more fun in bed,” D’Chel smirked, but at least he’d stopped unlacing his breeches. “Besides, food’s a bit thin here. You may have noticed nothing grows on this world.”

As she listened, a plan bloomed. The reason she’d failed last time with D’Chel was because she didn’t have enough magic. With Dewi inside her, her power was practically limitless—if the dragon would cooperate.

A ragged-looking man she didn’t recognize burst into the room, slamming the door against its stops so hard plaster chunked off the wall. His face was streaked with bloody mucous, and fury radiated from him in palpable waves.

D’Chel rounded on him. “I told you not to disturb me.”

“We need to talk. Out there.” The man jerked a hand toward the open door.

D’Chel tossed a lascivious grin her way. “Keep that fire burning for me, girls. I’ll be right back.”

Breath whooshed from Aislinn as the door thundered shut. “Who the fuck was that?” she asked Dewi.

“Adva.”

She should have been frightened, but Aislinn’s spirits soared. The missing dark god. Maybe their luck was turning after all. It was only a matter of time before Fionn, Rune, and Nidhogg did something brave and foolhardy to rescue them.

If she and Dewi didn’t beat them to the punch and escape on their own.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Keep your power muted,” the young black dragon hissed at one of his eggmates.

“Sorry.” The green dragon didn’t sound the least bit repentant. “Told you we needed more practice.”

The black male stood in the middle of a circle of his siblings. Royce and Vaughna had finally gone hunting and left them alone. At first, the adult dragons had spelled them to sleep before hunting, but a few days of good behavior lulled them into believing their charges would behave.

“I still don’t understand quite what we’re doing. Or why it will take all of us,” a red female whined.

Fire spewed from the black dragon’s mouth. They were beginning to name themselves. His name was Nidhogg, just like his father, since he’d grow to become the Norse dragon. Still, it felt pretentious to call himself that quite yet. He lassoed his annoyance and started over.

“We don’t have much time. We have to go now while they left us alone. If we don’t, goddess knows how long it will be before we get another chance.”

“Where are we going?” the green male asked. “Tell us why again.”

“I made a big mistake when I let the Old Ones into my mind. This is a way to make amends and build back trust. Mother and Father need us. They’re on one of the dark gods’ borderworlds.”

“How do you know?” the red female asked, crossing her forelegs over her scaled chest.

“I overheard Royce and Vaughna talking.”

“Not what I meant. How do you know Mother and Father need us?”

Young Nidhogg cast his attention inward. Because he was the next Norse dragon, he had a link with his father. It wasn’t precise, but his mind was filled with images he presumed he shared with his father, and the one where his mother raced off like a crazy thing to join Fionn’s red-headed girlfriend had burned into his brain. Because he suspected the others might not believe him, he tried a different tack.

“We are old enough to fight now that our scales have hardened. I know Mother and Father are in trouble because…he told me.”

The cave filled with steam as the other six dragons huffed disbelief. Nidhogg junior winced. He hadn’t thought they’d go for it—and they hadn’t.

“Please.” He infused compulsion into his tone. “I need all of you because our magic will feed on itself if we’re together. I’d go alone, but I’m not strong enough.”

“Have you ever teleported?” the copper male asked. “By yourself?”

“No, but I know how.” He shut his eyes for a moment and came to a decision. Sometimes you had to take chances and he needed the others’ cooperation. “I will be the next Norse dragon, so I hold many of father’s memories. It’s how I know he needs us.”

A collective ahhhhh whooshed through the cave. The challenges he expected never materialized, and he blew out a relieved breath at not having to fight his siblings.

“If this goes bad”—a red female shook her head until her scales clattered against each other—“there’ll be hell to pay. They’ll probably lock us on this world and throw away the key.”

“They wouldn’t.” The copper male straightened, furling his wings.

“We need to go. Now,” the black urged. “If we don’t, the choice will be taken from us. Who’s in?”

Silence hung in the cave, lasting so long, he figured he’d lost. Finally, one of the three green males shuffled nearer and muttered, “I may regret this, but me.”

After that, everyone except one red female said they’d go with him.

“We can’t leave you here,” Nidhogg the younger said.

Smoke poured from the other red female. “No shit. Once Royce and Vaughna return, they’ll torture the truth out of you.”

The reluctant red female winced. “We’re not supposed to use bad language.” Her shoulders drooped. “All right. I’ll go, but I do not have a good feeling about how this will turn out. We’re safe here.”

“The world is at war,” the black dragon informed her. “Soon no one will be safe anywhere. Besides, do you want to spend thousands of years here? I know it’s our world, but it’s not very interesting. Fire and sand and mountains.”