Resurrecting Her Dragon (Dragon Guard Series Book 13) (4 page)

Getting information about dragon kin had been difficult enough, but finding anything other than vital statistics about Rory O’Reilly had been damned near impossible. More than once, she’d entertained deepening their connection and searching her mate’s thoughts for the information she so desperately wanted. It would’ve been easy enough. Their connection was becoming second nature to her and he had yet to sense her presence. No one would’ve ever known.

But...it would’ve been wrong and Claire would have known. Worse than that, she would’ve been starting the most important relationship of her very long life with deception—not something that would bode well with the gods or her conscience. So, the phoenix continued to call everyone she’d ever known and some she didn’t until she had every bit of information about the O’Reilly’s she could find, which was still little to nothing.

About a year into her search, Claire’s Auntie Seraphina, a dove shifter and the Spiritual Leader of their kin, came for a visit. As luck would have it, the dove had become friends with a lone dragon by the name of Maddox. It took several days for the elderly dragon to arrive for a visit, and when he did, Claire wondered about his sanity. He seemed to have trouble staying on topic or holding a thought and was prone to tangents about anything and everything. Getting the details she wanted was challenging, but in the end, the mad dragon was incredibly useful. By the time he left they were fast friends.

She learned that Rory’s older brother was the Leader of the Blue Dragons, just as his father had been before him. It broke her heart to learn of the death of their mother and sister and the toll it took on their father. It was surprising to learn that the middle O’Reilly brother belonged to another clan, but then again, after all they’d suffered she supposed it made sense. Everyone deals with grief in their own way. Claire had laughed until she cried when Maddox finally spoke of Rory.

“The boy’s a damn fool, I tell ya’.” She couldn’t decide if it was his words or his thick brogue that tickled her so. Either way, the phoenix was captivated by the mad dragon’s tales of her mate.

“The boy’s been a handful since the day he was born. Ronin, their daddy, used to swear Rory came out with a cheeky grin, a twinkle in his eye, and piss and vinegar running through his veins. There’s never a time he can’t, won’t, or hasn’t made a joke but don’t let that fool ya’; he’s sharp as a tack with a heart of gold. One of the best I’ve seen with a sword and a mind like a steel trap. You’ll think he’s not paying attention, messing around and acting a joker, but don’t be fooled. Our Rory doesn’t miss a thing. He’s warrior through and through just like his daddy before him and his before him.”

The pride Claire could hear in Maddox’s voice made her smile. Rory sounded like the perfect mate. She knew her aunties wanted her to rush to find him, just as all the others before her had done, but the matriarch would not. She’d decided long ago it was not her way.

Malick had already made his intentions known and she’d given her absolute
no
, so all that was left was to wait for Rory. She knew it could be years, but she had to know it was what he wanted, not something she had forced upon him. The Universe had chosen well for her and Claire believed Rory would come around when the time was right.

The sounds of an approaching vehicle pulled the phoenix from her memories. Using her extraordinary senses, Claire sought the identity of the new member of their caravan, only to come up empty handed. Magic coated not only the vehicle but also its occupants. Thankfully, it felt like a simple Concealment Spell, but it still bristled her feathers. Why would anyone hide who they are?

When they’re up to no good...

Looking to the sky, she confirmed that Malick’s henchmen were still tracking her from behind dark clouds. She’d felt their presence the moment she’d left the security of her mountain but hadn’t worried much. She could take the underlings in a fight. Griffins were fierce in battle and would do anything to win, but over the years, they’d depended too heavily on their muscle and not enough on their brains. They were slow and stupid, all brawn, no brains. If they tried to take her by force, Claire would be ready. If all else failed, the dragons and their allies, the werepanthers, were both close behind. She’d just have to stall.

Any other time, Claire would’ve waited for them to come and fetch her. It was the way of the phoenix and most definitely what her mother would’ve instructed her to do. But time was not a luxury her Rory had. The fear of losing him overrode everything else. When she touched his mind, she could feel the hellhound toxin racing to his heart, trying to take his life, and that was not something she was going to let happen. Time was of the essence if the phoenix wanted the future she so desperately longed for.

Needing to think of something other than Rory laying helpless and in pain, Claire wondered about the alliance between the ancient warriors and the werepanthers. Dragons and cats were not naturally friends. At least from the little she knew of both races, their temperaments seemed to be polar opposites. What she’d learned of her Rory’s kin led her to believe they were honorable, loyal warriors to the core and well, the different cat shifters she’d met over the years had proved to be arrogant, mouthy, and generally a pain in the ass. Claire figured her Auntie Veronica, a hawk shifter and the comedian of their family, was right when she said, “Don’t be the canary when the cat comes along.”

Flying over the last crest in the road before the turn off to the lair of the Blue Thunder Clan and her dragon, Claire used her considerable magic to poke and prod at the mystical bubble hiding the identity of the men pursuing her. Searching for a weak spot...anything that would tell her if they were friend or foe, since they’d appeared out of nowhere. Red flags were popping up all over the place. Nothing about this situation felt right. Her instincts were screaming
these people are not your friends.

In a snap decision, Claire gripped the throttle of her Harley, gunned the motor, and said a prayer to the gods to keep her mate safe as she sailed past the narrow dirt road she should’ve taken to reach the dragon lair. A detour was in order. She would
not
lead whoever was tailing her to the dragons. Not until she knew who they were and what they were after.

The whine of the engine of the black SUV as it attempted to keep up with her made Claire smile. She knew she could outrun them if necessary but, at the moment, her plans included leading them to a deserted valley and getting much needed answers. Opening her senses wider, it wasn’t a surprise to see the werepanthers and dragons still following. She could feel their confusion and wished for a way to communicate with them. They were all apparently sure the ‘woman’ had missed her turn off.

No boys, just taking the scenic route.

Happy for the backup, Claire settled in for the twenty-mile drive to the mountain pass. She was happy to find Rory fast asleep when she touched his mind for the hundredth time since she’d left home three days ago. As long as he was drugged and sleeping his heart would remain slow and steady, giving her the time she needed to get rid of her unwanted shadows and make it back to him.

These are tears I won’t mind shedding.

Taking the last corner before the valley like she’d taken a million other corners since she rode her first motorcycle at the age of twelve, Claire looked up just in time to see her very long life flash before her eyes. Horn blaring, curses flying from her mouth like she was a drunken sailor on shore leave, the phoenix jerked her Harley to the right and then to the left. She threw all her weight one way and then the other, like she was riding the Scrambler at the county fair, maneuvering with every trick she knew to avoid a collision. Rocks and broken bits of asphalt flew in every direction as she gripped the brakes with all her might, willing the bike to stay upright.

Tires screeching against the asphalt and the smell of burning rubber assaulted her senses as the battle to avoid smacking into the back end of the large silver moving van parked in the middle of the road continued as the thick metal bumper of the truck raced toward her face. Forcing the handlebars to the right and throwing her body into the turn, Claire felt the breeze as the corner of the bumper narrowly missed her head. Struggling to correct out of the violent turn, the front tire of her Harley hit a pothole, hurtling the phoenix and the bike toward imminent destruction.

From that moment forward, the world moved in slow motion. It was as if she was watching the entire incident from outside her body. Shoving with all her might, Claire did everything possible to avoid being trapped under the enormous weight of her beautiful bright red Soft Tail as it toppled to the side. She pushed against the handlebars. Beat at the seat with her fists. Even kicked at the frame with her free foot, but it was all for naught. Metal met asphalt. Her hip and leg were trapped. Claire could do nothing but hold on and pray for the excruciating torture to end. She howled in pain as skin and muscle ripped from her bones while she slid across the asphalt. Flashes of light hit her eyes like a disco ball in the club as her head bounced against the pavement. Rocks and dirt embedded in every uncovered patch of skin. The world became a blur of black and gray as she slid toward the ditch. There was absolutely no escape from crashing and burning. 

Agonizing pain shot through her body. Tears streamed down her face. Horrifying screams like a dying animal echoed off the surrounding landscape mere seconds before she identified them as her own. Lifting her head as something soft and wet touched her cheek, Claire’s eyes opened just in time to witness her impact with the unforgiving trunk of a large pine tree.

The sound of crushing metal and splintering wood echoed in her ears. Of their own volition, her eyes slid shut and her body went limp. Time stood still. Chalking up her momentary feelings of euphoria to shock, Claire screamed in agony and her eyes flew open as her Harley was lifted from her body and thrown – literally – over the shoulder of a huge, blurry man-like blob.

Damn! Wish I could see....

Attempting to roll over, Claire held in her scream of pain before falling back onto the ground. Her head spun and her breakfast threatened to make a hasty appearance. Two more blurry blobs joined the first and they just stood there, not moving, right out of reach...staring at her from the little bit she could actually see. Rapidly blinking her eyes, Claire tried to focus, but only shadowy figures came into view.

“Who the hell are you and what do you want?” she demanded, trying to sound as threatening as possible while lying flat on her back and bleeding all over the ground.

Holding her breath, Claire waited for a response, a movement,
anything
that said they heard her, or at the very least understood what she was saying. But nothing came. It was as if her words had frozen them in place. Frustration was adding to the pain shooting through every cell in her body, making the phoenix wonder if passing out would be better than laying helpless, waiting to be attacked or abducted while her extraordinary healing abilities mended her broken body. By her calculations it would be at least an hour before she could sit up without throwing up or passing out, and even though she now knew two of the men standing around her were human, she still had no clue of the origin of the hulk who’d hurled her Harley into the woods.

Ya’ gotta love a head injury and a concussion. They make the worst situation seem manageable. Good times...

Carefully taking a deep breath, Claire changed her tactics, hoping damsel in distress would work better than commanding bitch. “Hey, guys, can you help a girl out?”

Apparently, that was their call to action, for in the blink of an eye, the hulk gently but firmly laid her over his shoulder, turned, and headed back toward the road. White hot spears of pain threatened to tear Claire’s body apart. The world spun out of control. Black dots filled her vision. She gagged as her stomach rolled. Talking a deep breath, she tried with all her might not to throw up all over the man hopefully carrying her to safety.

“Where are you...” A soft, acrid smelling cloth absorbed the rest of her comment as it covered her mouth and nose.

Struggling to move, she was no match for the strong hand on her face. Just as her world faded to black, a fourth man she hadn’t known was there, spoke. “You guys better hope she’s healed before Mr. Slade gets to the cabin.”

“Malick...” Claire whispered against the cloth still covering her mouth.

You stupid son of a bitch...   

“D
id I not say unharmed?” An ear-splitting bellow, closely followed by the sound of something large and wooden hitting the wall before falling to pieces on the floor, startled Claire out of her dream of soft brown eyes and a cocky grin.

Rory! 

Ignoring the chaos and yelling going on around her, Claire quickly touched her dragon’s mind. He was still sleeping and from what she could tell, the poison was still being held at bay by the herbs his healers were administering. Sighing in relief, she immediately sent healing power through their newly formed mating bond. It wasn’t nearly as powerful or effective as her tears but it would hopefully buy him the time for her to beat the hell out of Malick and get to Rory’s side.

Don’t give up dragon man, I’m coming...

Speaking of the asshole, Malick snarled, “I should have you drawn and quartered, you completely useless, waste of skin and bone and fur. And where in the hell is Zanus? Why was he not present?” Then mumbling under his breath, “My own brother, a stupid worthless bastard. Can’t follow an order to save his life.” His rant ended with a roar that shook the windows, caused Claire to wince in pain as it echoed through her battered brain, and then brace herself as more furniture crashed closer to her head than she was entirely comfortable with.

I’m playing possum until the jerk cools his jets...

Malick’s tirade went on and on. Claire began to wonder if there would be any furniture or griffins left when he was done. Luckily, the sound of a door opening somewhere to her left stopped all noise and motion in the room. Deafening silence sucked all the air from the room.