Dragon Warrior (5 page)

Sparrow tried to focus on Kestrel's words. His voice sounded hard and cold. But then he moved closer, lay beside her. The scent of him curled around her, his warm body emitting the heat hers no longer seemed capable of producing. His fingers twined in her hair and his dark and sexy voice lowered to a seductive whisper as he followed her instructions and applied pressure to her wound.

Her hands instinctively covered his when he tried to move away. “No,” she panted. “There.”

She closed her eyes. Closed off all thoughts and emotions and simply listened. The rhythmic ocean sang in the background. The steady pull and release of the waves rolled over the pebbled beaches below. She'd always wanted to hear the ocean one day. She only wished she could see it. Actually, right now she wished a lot of things.

Then she thought of something she'd meant to ask him last night before she fell asleep in his arms.

“Kestrel?” she asked, her voice distant and hollow to her own ears.

“Yeah, Doc?”

“How did you know—” she swallowed “—I said I love you?”

Warm and soft, his lips touched her forehead, placing a kiss upon it. “I heard you. Heard your voice in my head as clear as I hear you speaking now.”

She took a breath and tried to speak. When nothing but a faint wheeze came out, she sucked in another gulp of air. “I do, you know…”

“Shhh, sunshine. Don't speak,” he said, his voice cracking. Long and gentle, his fingers stroked her hair. At the feel of his touch, her muscles relaxed, her limbs grew heavy.

“I like that,” she managed.

His fingers continued their soothing pattern through her hair. “Thank you for coming after me.” He spoke so softly, she half thought she imagined it. “But you know what this means now, don't you?”

“Hmm?”

“Well, now that you've shifted, you're going to have to move out of the
magus dome
. That sequestered life won't suit you after tasting the open air.”

She heard his smile and offered one in return. “Nowhere else…to go.”

Silence stretched for what felt like an hour.

“You can stay with me.”

Sparrow tried to respond. Tried to tell him how happy his offer made her. But her mouth wouldn't quite work. And her eyes felt as if lead weights anchored them down. “So…tired.”

“No, Doc,” he said, his body shifting beside her. “I need you to stay with me. Keep talking to me. Dammit!” he said, grasping her cheeks. “Doc, look at me. Look at me,” he repeated, the hands on her face as urgent as his voice.

Sparrow blinked, forcing her eyes open.

“You can't leave me. Not now, okay?”

“Losing…too much blood.” She closed her eyes. “Sorry.”

A deep sigh reverberated by her temple. Then his body shifted away from hers and she nearly whimpered at the loss. Blindly she groped the air where she'd felt him last. Firm and strong, his hand clasped hers. “I'm right here, Doc. I'm not going anywhere. But I've got to let you go for a second. I've got to get you back to the sisters.”

A blast of air washed over her. An uncontrollable shudder racked her body, her teeth chattering. Kestrel's voice, smooth and reassuring, spoke in her mind, lessening the stab of pain lancing through her as a mighty silver dragon gently lifted her off the ground.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

At the sight of Kestrel, stretched out in the chair beside her bed, Sparrow grinned madly. Something she did a lot these days.

“Did you sleep here all night again?” she asked, propping herself up.

“Would you have preferred me in your hospital bed?”

Sparrow smiled.
Again.
Then lowered her eyes, hoping to hide exactly how very much she would have loved to feel him crowding the small bed beside her.

The sound of leather stretching echoed in the room as Kestrel stood. His booted heels clicked on the linoleum floor, followed by a distinct metal clink. “You're blushing, love.”

“Stop it,” she hushed, her gaze self-consciously flitting about the infirmary. “They'll hear you.”

“Let them.” He bent over her. Tilting her chin with his thumb and forefinger, he placed a soft, sweet kiss on her lips.

“They'll see you, too.”

He smiled, the sight stealing her breath. “Do you really mind?”

“Not one bit,” she said with a grin.

“I'm sorry,” a voice called from the door. “Am I interrupting something?”

Kestrel looked over, sinking into a bow at the sight of the king's son, Declan. “My lord,” he said. Sparrow lowered her head, offering the new king as much respect as she could while horizontal. “What brings you to sick bay?”

“Well,” he said, stepping into the room. The white sweater he wore offset his dark hair and the striking blue of his eyes. Kestrel's throat tightened with emotion. He looked so like his father.

“Since the doctor could not make our meet the other day,” Declan continued, “I came here to discuss the prophecy of this
Draco Crystal
she deciphered.” Declan's face tightened, a dark look passing over his features. “However, before we can commence, there is an order of business that's come to my attention.”

Kestrel swallowed his apprehension. “Yes.”

Declan kept his eyes on Sparrow. “I understand the doctor would like the position of resident healer to be reinstated.”

She nodded. “Very much, my lord.”

“As I'm sure you are aware, this flock has never had a female in high office at court, much less as resident healer. It's just not done.”

Doc's delicate gaze flitted to Kestrel. The look in her eyes constricted his heart, twisting it cruelly.

“My lord.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Declan. Don't do this. I beg you.”

A light of tenderness flickered behind his friend's weary blue eyes. “I'm sorry, Captain…”

Kestrel could no longer hold his head up, could no longer bear to watch the truth he knew was about to slam down on his heart like a gavel.

“However, it is mandatory that I personally approve of all mating flights, especially when it concerns two high council members.”

“What?” Kestrel shot his disbelieving gaze up to Declan. The sincere grin on his king's face at once washed away any doubts.

Declan clapped him on the shoulder. “In these dark times, those who can, deserve to find and enjoy happiness while they can.” Then his gaze settled on Sparrow. “And some rules are not meant to last forever. Welcome to the council, my dear. I look forward to working with you.”

Sparrow and the king clasped hands. Kestrel watched in a daze as he left the room, leaving them alone again. Grinning, he stepped over to Doc, not minding the measured steps it took to get there. Only that he was beside her. That they were together.

Long and smooth, her fingers twined with his, pulling his attention down.

“Mating flight?” she asked, an eager smile in her eyes.

A wicked curve twisted his mouth and he bent, his lips hovering over hers. “Well, we wouldn't want to upset the king now, would we?”

Don't miss the thrilling story of the dragon lord Declan's romance with vampire princess Alexia in SHADOW OF THE VAMPIRE, by Meagan Hatfield. Available from HQN Books!

Turn the page to read an excerpt…

Declan ran up the narrow tunnel. Footfalls pounding the earth behind him told him they didn't have much time to escape. Straight ahead, the mouth of the cave yawned, the slight flicker of moonlight revealing their way out.

“Tallon!”

“I see it,” she called over her shoulder, her legs kicking with each powerful stride.

“Fly,” he shouted when they neared the ledge. Without slowing, Tallon leapt into the void. Her slight body fell for a split second before she shifted form and took to the sky. Declan made sure she was airborne before pushing off the cliff with a grunt. His long body soared through the cool air, transforming with seamless precision into a black dragon.

As he climbed upward, a glance back showed the vampire soldiers, armed and ready to kill for the treasure he'd carried out of their den. Turning toward the heavens, Declan beat his wings to climb higher as a barrage of gunshots screamed from below.

“Faster,”
he shouted telepathically, seconds before bullets tattered the scales of his left wing. A hot spike of pain lanced between his shoulder blades. Slipping in his ascent, he paused to grab a breath.

“Declan. Come on!”

He ignored her. Instead, he stared at the vampire horde twenty feet below. Rage bubbled in his veins at the sight of them spilling out of their seaside catacomb like ants from a hill. A soldier lifted a bow gun to his shoulder and fired. Arrows cut through the sky. Declan swung into their path, taking in his arm the one meant for Tallon. The skewered flesh sizzled.

Silver-tipped arrows.
He groaned.

Not good.

The fine metal acted like a poison on his kind, eating their flesh and siphoning their power from the inside out. Gritting his jaw against the pain, he slashed the knapsack from around his neck and tossed it at Tallon. She caught it in one clawed hand.

“Take it and go.”

She looked up. The fear in her eyes eating at his soul. Tonight was not supposed to have gone down like this. They'd gotten what they came for. But he'd be damned if it ended with her getting hurt.

A second arrow ate through his thigh.

“Dammit, Tallon. You promised.”
He growled.
“Get out of here. Now!”

A breath of relief sawed out of his lungs when she nodded. After she disappeared in the darkness, he turned his focus on the vamp with the bow gun. Snapping his wings wide, Declan arced into a kamikaze dive. Fire licked the back of his throat. Smoke curled out of his nostrils.

The vampire saw him coming and turned to run, but he was too late. Declan opened his jowls, raining a torrent of dragonfire on the soldier. Pale flesh melted off his face and hands, pooling on the stones below.

Before Declan could close his jaw, another blitz of gunshots saturated the sky. Blazing heat ripped through his veins with the same burning efficiency as the bullets had torn his flesh. His wings faltered and folded behind him. His elongated muzzle shrunk until cool night air whipped his human face, tossing strands of hair into his eyes.

“Shit,” he muttered as he began plummeting toward the ground, human from the waist up. Unable to stop, he twisted in midair and tucked his chin, waiting for impact. His body smacked the dirt, bouncing and skidding, his flesh eating the small rocks and granules. He slid to a halt. A cloud of dust rose and then settled over him like a blanket, coating his lungs.

Coughing, he rolled to his stomach and opened his eyes to peek. Two soldiers were rushing him. Fast. Their black trench coats billowed behind them, showing off an assortment of weapons strapped to gun belts around their thick waists.

At least six more, all decked out like G.I. Joe on crack, were closing in not ten paces behind them.

Great.

The first two almost on him, Declan crouched and sideswiped his leg in an arc, knocking them down. Springing to his feet, he reared his tail. Blood splattered across his face and neck as he lodged the club-shaped ball at the end of it into the nearest vamp's chest. Spinning, he caught the second one by the throat. He snapped the soldier's thick neck around until a sickening crunch reverberated through his arms. Discarding the lifeless heap on the ground, Declan wrenched his tail out of what was left of the other vamp's torso, and turned to face the second wave of soldiers bearing down on him.

“Come on,” he said, motioning to the approaching horde. His blood-soaked tail lashed and bit like a whip behind him.

The pack stepped closer. Their teeth were bared and their black claws extended. Not caring if he died tonight as long he took a few of these bastards with him, Declan stepped forward to meet them head-on. He stumbled over heavy feet. Frowning, he looked down. The remaining armor scales on his lower body receded. Then his tail, the only weapon left in his arsenal, shrank back into his body.

The silver, he realized. Its poison was draining his dragon power.

As soon as the thought came, his body screamed in pain, his side and back burning as if someone held a blowtorch to his skin. Cupping the wound, he pulled back a bloody hand.

Another shot fired. Instead of more silver bullets, a heavy net collapsed atop him, dragging him to the ground. The instant his cheek hit the dirt, feet and fists rained down on him. With the net tying him up, all he could do was shield his head with his forearms and wait.

“Enough!” At a female's order, the soldiers backed up a step.

The Queen.

It had to be her. At the thought, an icy shiver passed through him. A rational part of his brain had known she would come for him if he didn't kill her first. Knew she would take her vengeance against his kind out on his flesh—his soul.

Well, he thought, grabbing a fistful of net. He wasn't going without a fight.

With a roar, Declan looped the thick cord around his wrist and pulled, taking several of the horde to their knees. Jabbing a fist through the mesh, he seized the nearest soldier by the throat and squeezed.

“Dammit, Ivan. Hold him,” a strong female voice ordered.

At her command, a boot rammed his jaw. Declan flew back, his chin kicking the ground in a teeth-shattering blow. Groaning, he spit out a mouthful of blood and pushed himself up, his head lolling in the direction he'd last heard the woman's voice.

The first thing he focused on were boots—spike-heeled, patent-leather, knee-high stripper boots, wrapped around a pair of slender legs that seemed to go for days. Declan lifted his chin and wrenched his swollen eye wider.

The female stood with one hand propped on black-leather-clad hips. The wind whipped thin blond hair around her—a delicately framed waist, bound in a leather corset that would have given any fetish kink an instant hard-on.

When his gaze finally reached her face, he noted she examined him with black eyes as cold and immortal as his soul. And that she was much too young to be the Queen.

“Where is the crystal?” Her smooth words held a faint trace of a Russian accent.

Not the Queen, but definitely of a noble caste. Declan grinned through bloodied lips.

At his smile, a dainty line furrowed her brow, and she cocked her head to the side. For a moment, she reminded Declan of a confused puppy. Until she raised a sawed-off 12 gauge and one black eye stared down the barrel at him.

“Tell me where it is and I might let you live,
Derkein.
”

“It's gone,” he said with a chuckle. “You have nothing to take back to her. You're as dead as I am.” The vixen's onyx eyes flashed silver before she drove the butt of the gun down to his face. He was still smiling when she pistol-whipped his nose and the world plunged into darkness.