Dragon's Lair (15 page)

“No. You're going to tell me what I want to know.”

An invisible force slammed her arms down onto the chair. Unseen bindings held her wrists securely to the chair arms.

Frantic, she tried jerking free. Without thought, she cried, “Braeden, Braeden, I need you now!”

But Nathan's laughter grew louder, drowning out her cries. Had Braeden heard her?

“No. I'm afraid he didn't. It's just you and I.”

A cold, nearly frozen finger stroked down her cheek.
“I'd nearly forgotten how soft, pliable and defenseless human skin feels beneath my touch. It's been far too long.”

Alexia leaned as far to the side as the invisible binds would allow. Fear closed her throat, cutting off any further cry for help.

Her struggles proved useless. The unseen finger trailed further down her neck, rimming the edge of her sweatshirt.

He pressed one finger at a time against her throat, dragging her upright in the chair.
“This may hurt a bit, Alexia, but only for a few moments.”

Slowly he tightened his grip.
“At first you'll panic. See, even now your eyes grow wide.”

A little more pressure against her windpipe.
“Then
you'll struggle to breathe. Can you hear your own gasps for breath? Or does the sound of your heart pounding in your ears drown out the sound of your lungs begging for air?”

Her throat convulsed against his hand as she desperately tried to pull in a breath. Alexia's eyes welled with tears. She didn't want to die like this.

The rush of his hot breath against her ear drew a strangled whimper from her.
“And now—now you'll feel light-headed, the room will turn hazy, out of focus. Soon, very soon, Alexia, your limp, nearly dead body will be mine to do with as I please.”

The room spun. Her heartbeat slowed. And her body felt strangely weightless.

Again his evil laugh resounded in her head.
“Don't fear overmuch, though. I will not kill you. This is only a warning. The next time, you will give me the answers I seek.”

As if no longer inside her own body, Alexia watched from across the room as a murky shadow hovered over her physical self, now slumped in the chair.

Had he killed her? Or was she hallucinating? Either way, she was quite obviously here, not over there in her body. She couldn't be certain, but she didn't feel dead.

What she felt was anger. No, it was more like rage and she'd be damned if she was going to stand here and do nothing.

There was no way she could take on Nathan alone. If there was the slightest chance she still lived, she needed to get help. Quickly. She raced across the room for the door.

He didn't appear to see her or sense her. Grateful for that bit of luck, she ran through the living room to the front
door and grabbed the doorknob. Her hand slid through it as if the knob was no longer tangible.

Alexia stared at the knob, her hand and finally at the door, whispering, “This is either going to hurt really, really bad, or it'll work.”

She stepped toward, then through the door and stood in the hallway. With a brief glance behind her, she smiled. “Not bad.” But who would she get to help? Even if she could just walk into the suite where Sean and Cam were, would she be able to communicate with them?

Danielle's voice floated down the hall from the dining room. The woman was singing to herself. Alexia realized there was one person nearby who could hear her thoughts. She rushed in that direction, all the while shouting inside her mind, “Danielle, get the boys. I need help, now.”

The sound of glass shattering echoed around the corner. As Alexia rounded the last turn in the hallway, she saw Danielle standing in the kitchen with broken glass at her feet.

“Danielle, please, it's Nathan. He's going to kill me. Help me.” She tried grabbing the woman's arm, but again her hand touched nothing.

However, Danielle's eyes widened and she jerked her arm away.

Frustrated, Alexia shouted, “Damn it, woman, go!”

In a flash, Danielle ran for Sean and Cameron. She beat on the door to the suite, and when they answered, she gasped, “Alexia needs you—now.”

Cam grabbed a key card from the entryway table and headed out the door with Sean on his heels. Alexia followed as they entered Braeden's apartment, each going in a different direction to find her.

“She's in here!” Sean yelled from the office. Cam and Danielle joined him.

Alexia stared in amazement. She was passed out on the floor. Hopefully she was just passed out. No sooner did that thought enter her mind than the room went hazy, then spun wildly and she felt herself fall limp to the floor.

“Alexia, Alexia, can you hear me?”

Arms were around her, shaking her gently. She opened her eyes and stared up at Cam. “Yes. Can
you
hear
me?
”

Her voice was hoarse and it hurt to talk. Her throat felt swollen.

“Of course I can,” Cam said. He slid an arm beneath her back and helped her to sit up. “I'm going to take you into the bedroom, then call Braeden.”

“No.” She grasped his shirtsleeve. “Don't call him.”

Sean stood at Cam's side looking down at them. “Lexi, there are red marks on your throat. If they turn to bruises, it's going to be a little hard to hide. I think he needs to know that someone attacked his wife.”

She shook her head. “No.”

Cam agreed with Sean. “We have to call him. Otherwise he's going to be ticked when he finds out later.”

Alexia stared at Danielle, willing her to listen.
“Someone was hurt during this last break-in at Mirabilus. He has enough to deal with there. I'm not badly hurt, so don't let them call him. He'll only rush right back here into what could be even more dangerous.”

Danielle nodded in obvious agreement, then stepped into the conversation with her nephews. “No. Alexia's right. Don't call Braeden.”

 

The lush green forest of the Isle of Mirabilus stretched endlessly before him. The island was approximately 150 square miles, and nearly three-quarters of it was wooded, making the search for the missing girl all that much harder.

Some of the witnesses claimed a tornado had streaked from the sky. Others swore they saw a dragon diving from the clouds. Either way, a little girl was missing. According to the island's historian, nothing like this had happened in more than four hundred years.

Braeden leaned on the stone wall surrounding the keep while waiting for the last search team to return. Throughout the night, they'd hit one dead end after another. Not even the power of his magic broke down the barrier preventing them from locating the little girl.

Finally, toward dawn he'd seen the briefest snippet of a vision and had sent the teams to the caves. With luck she'd be in one of them. And with more luck they'd find her alive.

Braeden glanced over his shoulder at the gate towers and was satisfied to see his orders were being followed. A line of cars and trucks drove through the gates. Around sunrise, frustrated by their fruitless search and dreading another abduction, he'd ordered the island's constable to send everyone with children to the apartments inside the walls of Mirabilus.

He wasn't about to chance another child being abducted. The safest place, the only place to ensure that wouldn't happen, was inside the walls.

Protective magic had been woven into the wall. For countless centuries his ancestors had strengthened the intricate spell that kept the castle and its inhabitants safe from dark powers.

Unfortunately the spell didn't safeguard against the mortal dangers attacking Mirabilus of late. But at the moment, Braeden's main concern was keeping his people safe against Nathan.

He heard footsteps approaching and felt Rolfe, one of
the groundskeepers, draw near. “Mr. Drake, we found Cindy.”

He didn't turn around as he asked, “Alive?”

“Scared half to death, but outside of a few scratches and bruises, she seems well enough.” From the corner of his eye, Braeden saw the older man's hands shake. Composing himself, Rolfe finally said in a near whisper, “She could have been killed.” His voice rose. “She's just an innocent child, barely seven. Why would anyone kidnap her?”

Braeden placed a hand on Rolfe's shoulder trying to offer comfort. “Where is she now?”

“The doctors are checking her over just to be sure. And Beatrice is there, too.”

“Good.” Braeden's sigh of relief
whooshed
from him. Beatrice was the island's healer. While it was unlikely the woman could do much to assist in healing any physical injuries, she was one of the few who'd be capable of soothing the girl's fears. “Where was she found?”

“In one of the lower caves.”

A couple of more hours and the tide would have taken the child out to sea. “Her parents?”

Rolfe leaned against the wall alongside Braeden. “I picked them up in the four-wheeler and brought them here. They're with Cindy and the doctors now.”

“Good.” Braeden looked at his man. Lines of fatigue marred Rolfe's face. Dark circles beneath his eyes made him look older than his seventy years. “You're exhausted. Go home, get some rest.”

“If you don't mind, sir, and if there's room, I'd like to bring my wife here.”

They'd recently added more apartments to the complex within the walls. There were now enough units to house
every family living on Mirabilus. With the uncertainty in today's world, it was the only way Braeden and his brothers knew of to keep the inhabitants safe without having to drain their powers.

The residents had their own homes and their own lives, and until today they'd never been ordered to move inside the walls. Braeden was thankful that the few families who'd argued against the move had been easily convinced to do it.

“Rolfe, you're more than welcome to bring your wife here. No need to ask.”

“Thank you, sir. I'll be on my way, then.”

Well aware that Rolfe was exhausted, Braeden knew he'd be walking nearly a mile to his small bungalow. “Let me.”

The man's sigh of gratitude as he disappeared under the spell echoed into the night.

Braeden leaned back against the wall and searched his mind for every little detail he knew about Alexia. A cold, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach nearly screamed the obvious at him.

He'd been wrong.

She wasn't involved with Nathan. Even though she'd possessed no magic until recently, she'd always been intuitive. If her mind hadn't recognized Nathan's vileness, the cringing of her spirit would have sent her running in the opposite direction.

He owed her an apology. Braeden closed his eyes against the distasteful thought. It might stick in his throat, but it was owed.

As he'd done throughout the night, he mentally opened the curtain of time and space between Mirabilus and Dragon's Lair.

But this time, Alexia's presence was nowhere to be found.

His heart plummeted. Before the fear could wrap him in cold dread, he took himself back to the Lair and stepped into his office suite.

T
he surf pounded against the rock wall below the cave's entrance, sending a cold spray of seawater across Nathan's materializing form.

His senses picked up the lingering trace of intruders. He swung away from the entrance, his eyes piercing the darkness of the cave as he searched for his prey.

The girl was gone. Nathan's lips curled over his bared teeth. Gone. While he'd toyed with the Dragon's mate, someone had taken the girl from his lair.

He should have killed her, but the terror in her eyes and her screams of horror had lent so much strength to his powers that he'd thought to feed off her fear once again.

Nathan waved a hand before the rock wall, bringing Mirabilus into view. Curses dripped from his tongue. The child still lived, but the residents of the isle were moving into the keep where they'd be safe from his powers.

For now.

He closed that view to focus on Dragon's Lair and the manual spread out on the table. Soon he would possess enough power to break the spells wrapped around Mirabilus.

Nothing would keep those on the island safe. He groaned in delicious anticipation.

Once he attained the level of Hierophant, he would see to it that the Drakes paid for all the crimes committed against him and his father. The revenge he'd taken out on Aelthed was not enough. He wanted all the remaining Drakes to pay.

He would wipe their existence from this earthly plane. They would die at his command—slowly and in agony. He would siphon their magic, adding it to his own as he drained them of life.

Soon. Soon all would be his.

 

Braeden froze in the doorway to his private office. Alexia sat on the floor holding her head in her hands, Cameron, Sean and Danielle all gathered around her. Braeden's stomach twisted in knots and he heard his aunt say, “No. Alexia's right. Don't call Braeden.”

“What would they not call me about?” He pushed Sean out of the way to stare down at Alexia. He snarled a curse as he knelt beside her, then took her from Cam, gathering her into his arms.

The intensity of the fear snaking through him took him off guard, shaking him to his core. Braeden shook the ice-cold emotion from himself and studied the red marks around Alexia's throat. They looked oddly like handprints.

He gently touched her neck. “You thought you'd hide this from me?”

“It's nothing.” Her voice rasped. “I'll survive.”

Braeden covered her lips with a fingertip, ordering, “Be quiet.” He glanced up at Cam. “What happened?”

His brother shrugged. “We just got here. As far as we've learned, Nathan attacked her.”

Braeden swore again, then ordered, “Call for the car, she's going to the hospital.”

Alexia shouted, “No!” But not a sound left her lips. Her eyes flew open with surprise and she asked, “What did you do?” While her mouth moved, she remained mute.

She glared at him.

“I told you to be quiet.” He shrugged. “Since I know you never listen, I took care of it myself.” Braeden narrowed his eyes at her, hoping to bully her into accepting his decision. “You
are
going to the hospital.”

But she shook her head and shot a plea toward Danielle.

“Braeden, she'll be fine.” His aunt's tone was soft, cajoling. “Anyway, how are you going to explain the marks on her neck when the police are called?”

He'd meant to laugh in disbelief, but it came out as more of a snicker. “They won't be called. Nobody will remember she was there.”

Cam asked, “Do we really want to start doing that here? It's only going to take one receptive person to eventually start wondering.”

Sometimes his family's being right was irritating. Braeden rose, lifting Alexia in his arms. “Then we won't start any speculation—
here.
” He stepped away from the circle of his family. “I'll call you later.”

Alexia grabbed at his shoulders. He looked down at her and she pointed frantically at the worktable.

Braeden rolled his eyes. She
would
think about work before herself. “Gone.” Instantly, the manual, her notes, tools and computer disappeared.

Before relaxing in his arms, Alexia looked at Danielle and mouthed, “Thank you.”

Alexia's lips had barely formed the words when Braeden whisked them to their private bedchamber at Mirabilus.

They'd spent their wedding night here in this very chamber. Her marriage gift to him, an oil painting of a medieval warrior being knighted by a beautiful queen, still hung on the wall.

He crossed the room and placed her on the high bed. “Stay there. I'm going to go call the doctor.”

She grabbed his arm. “No. I'm fine.” Her voice was back. He'd released the spell holding her silent. “Please, just let me rest awhile.”

Since she seemed to be all right, outside of her scratchy voice, he'd take her word for it. But he wasn't going to leave her alone. “Move over.” He stretched out alongside her and pulled her into his arms.

She froze for a moment, then relaxed against his chest. “How did you know I needed you?”

“I couldn't feel your presence.” He wasn't about to lie to her. “When I was unable to touch your mind, I knew something was wrong.”

She tipped her head back, brows hiked above her luminous blue eyes. “You what?”

He pulled her head down against his shoulder. “You heard me. Yes, I broke my word.” And he felt no guilt for doing so. “I intruded on your thoughts repeatedly through the night. I kept my eye on you as best I could. And when I couldn't find you, I came home.”

Her gentle breath breezed lightly against his neck. “Thank you, Braeden.”

It took a minute for him to realize that the reason she didn't
rail against his intrusion was that she was exhausted. He knew that once she had some rest, they would argue again.

He tightened his embrace briefly, ordering, “Go to sleep.”

Certain she'd ignore him, Braeden stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Go to sleep, Alexia. All will be well. Just sleep.” He caught a glimpse of her drowsy gaze just before her eyes closed.

Regardless of what she thought, he didn't hate her. He couldn't deny his anger at her return. At first, just seeing her had been like opening a festering wound with a jagged knife, and he'd burned with rage.

But seeing her on the floor, with handprints around her throat, made him realize that no matter how hard he tried, there was one thing he couldn't deny. Right now, this impossible woman was still his mate.

He'd known that from the moment they'd met. How had he let himself forget?

He didn't trust her to confide in him. He didn't trust her to always tell him the truth. Yet, as illogical as it seemed to his brain, he would do everything within his power to keep her safe, whether she liked his methods or not.

She could rant all she wanted after she woke up, he didn't care. They had a manual to translate, an enemy to defeat and a danger to vanquish. Everything else, including the decision about their marriage, could wait.

Right now, he wanted a night of peace. Tomorrow would be soon enough to resume snarling at each other. Tomorrow they could renew their mutual distrust.

But tonight…tonight he would do nothing more than hold her, stand guard and keep her safe.

Braeden shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed. He felt Alexia shiver, but he didn't want to get up, didn't want to let her out of his arms. It'd been a long time
since he'd held a woman so close. He just wanted to relax quietly and enjoy the silence.

Having powers was perfect for just such a moment. He reached toward a rack in the corner of the room and willed a quilt to his hand. After pulling it around her shoulders and tucking it in, he closed his eyes.

 

Alexia blinked awake. The arm around her tightened briefly and she froze for a second before remembering where she was, then relaxed against Braeden's side.

“How do you feel?” His deep voice broke the dark silence of the room, surrounding her in warmth.

She swallowed, testing her throat first. “Fine.”

He settled his head more deeply into the pillow. “Good. Go back to sleep.”

The sudden urge to run a hand across his chest surprised her. She didn't want to want him, didn't want to let herself need him. But she couldn't deny the safety his arms provided. “I'm not tired.”

Braeden rolled to his side, drawing her closer into his embrace. At the same time soft light bathed the bed. “Then tell me what happened.”

Her pulse quickened. “I don't want to argue.”

“Neither do I. At least not tonight.” His lips brushed her cheek. “But I need to know what happened.”

Alexia leaned away. “Are you planning on using seduction to get answers again?”

“I hadn't considered it. But there'd be no interruptions this time…”

She quickly changed the subject, asking, “How is the little girl? Did you find her?”

“Yes. And other than being frightened out of her wits at being kidnapped by a monster, she's unharmed.”

“Kidnapped?” She knew the answer, but had to ask. “By whom?”

“Nathan.” A shudder rippled the length of his body before he added, “I'm amazed we found her alive.”

A child. Nathan took his anger out on a child. Alexia swallowed the bile clogging her throat. “Oh, dear God. I am so sorry. I never should have—”

“No.” Braeden quickly threaded his fingers through her hair and jerked her head back. He stared hard into her eyes, forcing her to look at him. His eyes glittered like gemstones in the flickering light. “Listen to me. This wasn't your fault. While you slept, I made certain that she won't remember a thing—not the kidnapping or the kidnapper.”

“But my paper…I shouldn't—”

“Stop it.” He tugged on her hair, making her wince, before he relaxed his hold, sliding his hand to warm the back of her neck. “Alexia, your paper didn't bring Nathan here. And it had nothing to do with his quest for the manual. It's probably safe to assume that even your professor's accident was caused by Nathan.”

“Why?”

Braeden ran his thumb along the rim of her ear. “He wouldn't want anyone else, especially another mortal, homing in on what he considered his property.”

“Still, had I had the guts to stand up to the professor, instead of caving like I did, this wouldn't have happened.”

“Even if you didn't have the backbone to refuse, you could have come to me. Still, we can't know for certain if it would have made a difference.”

“We'll never know the outcome if things had been different.” She looked away, trying to hide her guilt. “But they aren't different, and you made it pretty clear that I'm to blame for this.”

Braeden's palm was light against her cheek as he turned her to face him. “I was wrong to blame you. Do you hear me? I was wrong.”

Shocked to hear Braeden admit he'd done something wrong, she studied him. He didn't appear to be anything but serious.

When she failed to respond, he continued, “I know damn well that there's no way you could ever be involved with a man who would think to harm a child.”

Unshed tears blurred her sight. She didn't know if they were from overwhelming relief at his admission, or lingering guilt over the paper.

He caressed her cheek. “No ‘I told you so'? Not even as much as a raised eyebrow? A self-satisfied smirk? Nothing?”

She didn't know what to say. She could count the number of times Braeden had apologized for anything on one hand. Each one took her by surprise. This one, however, was more shocking than surprising.

And not altogether pleasant. Why this sudden change of heart?

Too many years of blame, guilt and anger made her wary. Was he up to something?

Alexia studied his face. He didn't waver, didn't flinch. She detected no trace of subterfuge—but this was Braeden Drake. Ruler and High Druid of Mirabilus, and they were on his turf.

She could search his gaze until the end of time and still be uncertain. She would see only what he wanted her to see.

But lying wasn't one of his tactics. He'd sooner say nothing than lie.

“Alexia?”

Uncertain and confused, she sighed in resignation before asking, “What changed your mind?”

“The little girl Cindy.” Braeden's light kisses felt like butterflies across her cheek. “I realized that you could never be involved with someone as purely evil as Nathan.”

“You do realize that I should be mad at you?” Alexia trailed her fingertips over the rough stubble covering the hard line of his jaw.

“I know.” He stroked her arm, bringing her hand to his lips. “But in return I'd have to get angry because you've neatly avoided telling me what happened at the Lair.”