Dragon Storm (Dawn of the Dragon Queen Book 2) (3 page)

Even though Abby was ashamed of her actions, her admission freed a burden that had been weighing down her soul. It was true. She’d been heartbroken over Theodore Carter, and fool that she was, she’d tried to take her own life because of it. Even though her throat tightened with emotion, she forced herself to continue, for she knew her soul needed to be purged if she was to start anew.

“The first time my life flashed before me I saw only the bad things, like when I lost mama and papa, and the day Charlotte married Teddy.” She looked away, unable to withstand her grandmother’s heavy stare for long. “The second time I saw you rocking me in my cradle and singing me to sleep, I tasted your homemade pie, and I felt your hugs and kisses.” Her gaze flicked back to her grandmother, whose cheeks were now damp with tears. “I also saw what my life could be like.” She twisted her hands in her lap, gnawing on her lower lip. “I could fall in love with someone else, or maybe I could travel with Clara Barton and the Red Cross, helping those in need. There are so many things I can do with my life.” She swallowed a lump, forcing herself to press onward. “But I refuse to spend the rest of my future lamenting the past and hating my poor friend for falling in love, too.”

Nana scooted closer, clasping Abby’s small hands in a clammy, heavy grip. “That is very honorable of you, dearest.” She flashed a wide smile. “I knew you had a heart of gold.”

Abby vehemently shook her head. “I don’t, Nana. I have behaved like a selfish, spoiled brat, and I’m sorry.”

Nana cupped Abby’s chin, lifting it until their gazes locked. “You are growing into a fine young woman. Whatever you do in life, I know you will do it well.” Her lips tilted in a rueful smile. “I’ve never known you to give half-measures.”

Abby couldn’t help but laugh at that, and soon Nana was laughing, too. Their eyes were watering so hard, Abby didn’t know when the crying stopped and the laughter began.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Nana jumped, her hand flying to her chest as she looked at the rattling front door. “Who could that be?”

Abby leaned forward. “Perhaps Señor Cortez with news.”

Nana’s eyes bulged before she raced for the door and threw it open.

Abby’s surprise turned to disappointment, and her disappointment turned to anger when she saw Dr. Charles Straw.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Jenkens.” He bowed low before Nana, his hat nearly tumbling from his head. “You are looking as lovely as ever. What a glow you have to your cheeks. You must be enjoying this fine weather.”

Nana raised a hand to her face and blushed. “Why thank you, Dr. Straw, but I always wear a hat when I’m out of doors.”

“Ahhh.” He stepped inside the threshold, smiling that wicked smile Abby had come to loathe. “Then your glow is natural, which makes it even more stunning.” He shoved his hat in Nana’s hands and pushed his way past her.

She gasped and spun around but said nothing, standing rooted to the spot as if she were a statue.

He looked over the small parlor with a scowl, as if he found the room distasteful. “I have come to call on your healer.”

Nana walked a wide circle around him, her mouth agape. “She’s sleeping.”

His thin moustache twitched as he frowned at Nana. “Nonsense. It’s the middle of the day.”

“I know, but she exhausted herself healing patients. You must come back another day,” Nana pleaded, sounding more exasperated than authoritative as she held his hat out to him.

Abby slowly rose to her feet, knowing her Nana would need help if she were to wage a battle with the devil doctor. Abby had never trusted the serpentine gleam in the man’s eyes, and she trusted him even less after he’d forcibly entered her Nana’s home.

Dr. Straw pushed Nana aside with his cane. “Wake her. We have pressing business to discuss.” He pointed the tip of his cane at the stairwell. “Or you can tell me where to find her, and I’ll do it. Which room is hers?”

Nana pursed her lips and vehemently shook her head. “I can’t tell you.”

He turned up his long nose, nostrils flaring. “I beg your pardon?”

Nana clutched the doctor’s hat with whitened knuckles. “I have specific orders
not
to wake her.”

Dr. Straw advanced, bearing down on Nana with a look that reminded Abby of a wild animal stalking his prey. “And I am giving you specific orders to wake her.”

Nana backed up. “B-but….”

“But nothing.” He banged his cane on the wood floor, the sound ricocheting across the walls. “Now be a good woman and fetch her for me.”

Abby crossed to them, pushing in front of Nana as she turned up her chin. “Did you hear what my Nana said?”

The doctor pasted on a wide smile, one Abby could tell was forced. “Abby, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you are well.” His tone dripped with fake sincerity, flowery words with hidden thorns.

Abby ripped the hat out of Nana’s hands, marched past Dr. Straw, and threw open the door. She tossed his hat outside, watching with satisfaction as it rolled down the steps. She looked at the man, whose cheeks were so inflamed, they appeared to be on fire.

“Oh, I do apologize.” She spoke through clenched teeth while flashing a smile. “It appears I’ve tossed your hat out by accident, Dr. Straw. Be a good man and go get it.”

Abby’s heartrate quickened when he clutched his cane with both hands as if it were a baseball bat.

“I’m not leaving until I speak to the healer.” His voice was a low, dark rumble.

“Dearest,” Nana squeaked. “Maybe you should let the doctor….”

Abby held up a silencing hand. “Nana, let me handle this.” She pulled back her shoulders, doing her best to quell her shaking limbs. “Moses!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Dr. Straw paled when their servant, Moses, as tall as the doctor but twice his girth, rushed into the room through the kitchen’s swinging door.

“Yes, Miss Abby?” the servant asked, but even before Abby could answer, Moses’s hands curled into fists as he narrowed his eyes at their visitor.

“Oh my,” Nana exclaimed before falling into a nearby chair.

Abby pointed at Dr. Straw. “This man has barged into our home and refuses to leave. Kindly show him the way out.”

Dr. Straw backed toward the door. “Is this any way to treat your physician?”

Abby stood on her toes, poking his chest, feeling a renewed sense of bravery with Moses at her back. “You’re not
my
physician. And from what I hear, you’re not a physician to anyone anymore.”

His lip curled up in a snarl. “You are mistaken, girly.”

Abby arched back and fanned her face as a disgustingly sweet smell overwhelmed her senses. “You smell like cheap perfume. Go back to the hole you crawled out of.” With a hard shove, she pushed him over the threshold and slammed the door in his face.

Moses chuckled, “Good ’un, Miss Abby.”

Nana rushed to Abby’s side, wringing her hands. “Oh, Abby, what have you done?”

Abby turned to her grandmother, clutching the old woman’s shoulders. “Nana, Miss Fiona saved my life and the lives of many others. That man means her harm. I can see it in his eyes. He’s not allowed back in this house. Do you understand?”

Nana swallowed hard, the veins in her neck popping out like swollen tributaries. “Y-yes.” She looked up at Moses, and they shared knowing grins. “Just like I said, a fine young woman.”

G
abriel walked toward his new home with a spring in his step. Safi would be pleased with his catch. Earlier that day he’d spied an overgrown garden beside the house. Perhaps they could dig up some roots to roast and use a few herbs to season their meal.

He was not surprised to see Safi wasn’t lying on the floor where he’d last left her. He closed his eyes and followed that invisible cord tethering him to his mate, visualizing her upstairs in the last room.

He set his catch in the kitchen tub and walked back into the foyer, climbing the steps two at a time. His heart sank when he reached the end of the hallway, for he could hear Safi’s muffled cries coming from the other side of the door. He rushed inside to find her sitting on the four-poster bed, her eyes wet and swollen, and her face blotchy.

“Mi amor, why are you crying?” He sat beside her, pulling her into an embrace.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and sniffled against his chest but said not a word.

He cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Please say something.”

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then wiped her hand across a gossamer gown which she wore over her shift. An ordinary man might have been repulsed by her behavior, but Gabriel was no ordinary man, and Safi was certainly no ordinary woman. He knew Safi was different the day he met her, and her child-like behavior was what he loved so much about her. He wondered if it was due to a lack of maturity, or if she’d simply been too coddled by her mother. She might be five hundred years old, but she had been asleep for all but seventeen of them. In a way, she was still a youth, having been torn from her mother’s bosom when she was learning how to be a woman.

“I-it’s nothing.” She shrugged. “Look at the pretty dresses I found.” Her smile appeared forced as she waved to the dresses laid out across the foot of the bed. There were many colors, but the thin white gown she wore was what caught his eye. He imagined his mate without the shift underneath, the sheer fabric revealing her dark, pebbled nipples and that auburn patch of curls between her thighs.

He shook his head at his wayward thoughts. His mate was in need of emotional support, and all he could think about was coupling. His new body had made him go loco for love.

He brushed a wayward crimson curl behind her ear. “They are beautiful, but do not try to distract me with fine lace. Why were you crying?”

The look in her eyes nearly broke his heart in two. “I-I just can’t imagine an eternity without my mother.” She ended on a sob, burying her face in her hands.

Gabriel’s heart clenched as he stroked her back. “You will see her again.”

“No!” She dropped her hands, looking at him with fear in her eyes. “She will try to separate us.”

Gabriel forced a smile. “She can’t. Not now that we are bonded.”

She looked lost in thought. “How can you be sure?”

Gabriel wasn’t sure. But one thing he did know—Safi’s mother loved her, and if she saw how happy Safi and Gabriel were together, perhaps she’d forgive them. “Give her time to cool down. You will see. She will forgive us, especially if we give her a grandchild.”

Safi’s jaw dropped. “You want to sire a dragon child?”

The way she said it, as if the thought of having a child with her should have repulsed him, filled him with sadness and anger all at once. How could Safi doubt his love and admiration for her?

“No.” He clasped her hands and looked deeply into her eyes, willing her to see into his soul. “I want to sire
our
dragon child.”

Her hands flew to her mouth as nervous laughter erupted from her throat. “Do you think your seed has taken root?”

Gabriel fingered the soft fabric of her white gossamer gown. He couldn’t help the sly smile that tugged at his lips. “I’m not sure, which is why we must try as often as we can.”

Safi’s stomach took that most inopportune moment to growl. He reached for her, then shrank back as the sound intensified.

“You’re hungry.”

“No.” She settled a hand on her belly. “I’m famished.”

Gabriel slid off the bed and held out his hand. “Come. I have a surprise for you.”

* * *

Dr. Straw held his head up high as he strolled into Ritter’s, a saloon frequented by the upper crust of society and the one establishment where he always kept up with his tab. The gentlemen who frequented Ritter’s were married to his best customers, so he had to put on a good show, especially considering he’d lost nearly half his clientele in the past two days. After he slipped off his hat and coat, he perused the room, captivated by two patrons arguing at the counter.

“I’m telling you, I saw a big fin and a long tail.” Mr. Goldman slammed his drink on the counter, lean arms spread wide. He glared, the ends of his grey bushy moustache hanging below his chin. His short, stocky companion laughed.

Mr. Goldman had never looked more vulnerable than that moment. Straw knew his fortunes were about to change, for Goldman had very deep pockets and a blessedly sick wife. If he came to Goldman’s aid, perhaps Goldman could help him regain his clientele.

“Goldman, you old fool,” Mr. Ball, a dock foreman who had no business being at an upscale saloon, laughed while slapping Goldman on the back. “It was probably a trail of seaweed.”

Goldman slammed his fist on the counter. “It was a tail.”

Ball stepped back, narrowing his beady eyes and running a stubby hand through his thinning, white hair. “I suggest you ease off the drinks for the night. You can go on telling your story, but there’s nobody here going to believe a tall tale like that.”

“And I don’t give a damn.” Goldman tossed back his drink before slamming the empty glass on the counter. “I know what I saw.”

Dr. Straw stepped up to the bar, hailing the bartender with a wave. “I believe you,” he said to Goldman as he rested his elbows on the counter. “I saw the sea monster, too.”

Goldman’s brows rose. “You were on the beach yesterday?”

“I was,” Straw lied, though it was an easy fabrication, for he’d heard the tall tale circulating through the streets and saloons. “It was the most bizarre occurrence. The healer’s daughter rushed into the water and saved the boy from the shark, then lost all her clothes without suffering so much as a scratch.”

Goldman flashed Ball a knowing look. “That is exactly what I saw.”

Straw stood to full height, pulling back his shoulders. “I tell you, though I consider myself a man of science, there is something dark and foul at work here.”

Ball’s gaze sharpened. “What do you mean?”

Straw cared not a lick what Ball thought of him, for Goldman probably earned four times his wages, and it was Goldman who leaned forward, eager to hear more.

Dr. Straw looked down at Ball with a condescending smile. “That boy suffered mortal wounds, and yet he lives. Abigail Jenkens fell twenty feet from the pier, yet she miraculously recovered. There is no scientific explanation for it.”