dragons breath 01 - stalked by flames (21 page)

The pendragon gave the signal, sending his heart racing as a roar of fire filled the air. In the next moment, he was running toward his opponent with his sword held high. Aidan felt the balls of his feet strike the ground with each step and pushed harder to gain momentum. Falcon lowered his blade a few inches—a small tell that he planned to thrust upward. Good. He’d taken the bait.

Two paces before they reached each other Aidan angled his body sideways and slid to the ground, continuing feet-first toward his opponent. Gasps came from the crowd and Falcon’s eyes widened. He twisted around, but the maneuver didn’t help him.

Aidan raised his right arm, aiming his sword at his target’s side as he swept past him. The tip of his blade cut into Falcon above his hip in the small space where his protective vest didn’t quite meet the waistband of his pants. The gash wasn’t deep, but enough to rattle his opponent and everyone watching.

It had been a calculated move and one Aidan didn’t use often. He didn’t want to give away his best tactics today, but he did want his future opponents guessing which opening move he might make next time. Winning a fight didn’t happen only by being the fastest or the strongest. A smart warrior had to keep his opponent guessing. Play with his mind so that his reaction time slowed because he couldn’t decide on the best defense.

Aidan barely got to his feet before Falcon went on the attack. The older warrior slashed downward with a determined glint in his eyes and a battle cry on his lips. The sword glided toward Aidan’s head in a blow that would crack his skull. He pulled his blade up and blocked it a hair’s breadth before it reached him.

The muscles in Aidan’s right arm strained against the force of the blow. It was all he could do to keep the sharp edge from cutting into his scalp. The sword slid closer. He angled his head to the side, but the blade bit into his ear with a sharp sting. The wetness of blood trickled down onto his neck. The beast inside begged to take over, but he ignored it.

Aidan locked eyes with his opponent. Falcon bared his teeth and pushed harder. Struggling against the force coming down on him, Aidan sidestepped and got out from underneath it. The blade came crashing down where he’d just stood. That had been close—too close.

Heaving a breath, Aidan pulled his weapon back up and went on the attack. Thrust, block, swing, parry, and they did it all over again as long minutes passed. Their dance across the field thrilled the spectators. He could feel their excitement thrumming through him, urging him to keep going. It was a heady feeling, and yet he hated it. Aidan didn’t like performing for anyone’s pleasure. If he was going to fight, he damned well wanted it to be for a good reason.

Falcon thrust forward toward Aidan’s chest. He spun to the side to avoid the blade, getting sliced in the forearm instead. The pain was sharp but better that than his heart or lungs. The vest he wore protected his skin, but if the sword point found its way through the front laces, it could severely wound him. His opponent was giving him no quarter. Not that he’d expected any.

They resumed their dance across the field, matching thrust for thrust. Sweat poured from their bodies due to the unusually high heat. It mixed with the blood of the many cuts and gashes they’d given each other. He could hardly find time to catch his breath, and Falcon was beginning to struggle for air as well. Matches usually didn’t last this long.

If Aidan were smart and able to overcome his inner beast’s need to prove itself, he’d let his opponent claim the win. The clan would admire him for lasting nearly twenty minutes against such a strong warrior, but his pride wouldn’t let him give up—even if it could mean his eventual downfall.

He swung his sword out toward Falcon’s neck. His opponent’s blade blocked it a hand’s breadth away. Sparks flew as the swords slid together, bringing the two men closer.

“I knew you were better than you let on,” Falcon said.

Aidan gritted his teeth. “Why test me?”

Falcon pushed away, breaking them apart. Then he went in for the attack again. He fought so hard Aidan was forced to give ground as they moved farther and farther away from the crowd. What was he doing? None of his moves were difficult to block, but they were forceful. He’d tire himself out faster battling this way.

They were nearly sixty paces from the onlookers when their swords locked once more. Both men struggled for breath, staring at each other. Falcon’s yellow eyes narrowed on him.

“There will come a time when clan members must choose a man to support. Zoran is an oaf and Ruari is treacherous. I still haven’t decided about you.” He paused. “There are those who believe you are staying out of the way, biding your time.”

Aidan almost winced. That was a little too close to the truth.

“Perhaps I plan to support my sister’s claim.” It was something he’d considered more than once.

Falcon’s lips twitched. “There’s a thought.”

It wasn’t unprecedented for a female to lead a clan, but it was very rare. Phoebe had many of the right qualities—strength and wisdom among them. She only lacked the drive to fight for the position. Falcon might have made a good pendragon as well if he’d been eligible.

“Are we going to finish this or are you going to keep talking?” Aidan asked.

Amusement glinted in Falcon’s eyes. “By all means.”

The pushed off each other.

Taking a deep breath, Aidan went on the attack. There were no particular rules on how they fought except they weren’t supposed to kill each other—only simulate a fatal blow. Aidan swung his sword at Falcon. The older dragon blocked it and returned the favor. Aidan parried the thrust. Slowly, they worked their way back across the field toward the crowd.

When they were less than twenty paces from the onlookers, Falcon shocked Aidan with a cutting blow to his left shoulder. The blade tore through his muscles and tendons, grazing the collarbone. A roar rose up in his ears as intense pain coursed through him. He resisted the urge to let go of his weapon and apply pressure to the injury. Fighting through the agony, he kept his sword arm up. The fight wasn’t over yet. The beast inside him wouldn’t let one deep wound be the end of the match.

Falcon came at him again, raising his sword high and coming down hard. Aidan lifted his sword one-handed and barely managed to block it, but his opponent wouldn’t let up. His strength was too much. Aidan shook and struggled as the blade edged closer.

His knees weakened and he fell onto them, kneeling before his opponent. Falcon lifted his blade and went into a clockwise spin. It was one Aidan recognized. Anyone who had ever watched the warrior in battle knew he only used the spin when he was certain his opponent was too weak to fight anymore.

But he was wrong.

As Falcon came back around with his sword out and ready to administer a final blow, Aidan ducked his head. Then he kicked his right leg out. His foot hooked at the back of his opponent’s knee. He used the momentum Falcon had already generated to send him tumbling onto his back. He hit the ground with a hard thud.

Still on his knees, Aidan brought his sword down onto his opponent’s neck, cutting down the side of it. Falcon winced as blood trickled down his neck. It wasn’t too deep, but it had to hurt. Aidan hauled in deep breaths as he looked down at his opponent and waited for Throm to make the call. His inner dragon purred in contentment. Perhaps the beast would give Aidan a break for a while now that he’d given them a win.

“Well done, young warrior,” Falcon said.

“I don’t need your praise.”

“No, you don’t.”

The pendragon walked up. “Finished!”

Aidan lifted his sword and struggled to his feet. Cheers went up through the crowd, the excitement palpable. As he made his way off the field, he overheard members of his clan chatting amongst each other. They remarked on his shocking win.

Numerous men clasped his arms as he passed them, giving him congratulations. A few women tried to plant kisses on his cheeks and lips, but he turned his face from them. Bloodthirsty wenches. A self-respecting female dragon made the male chase after her.

“I’m proud of you, son.” The pendragon joined him.

Aidan sent his sword back to
shiggara
. “What was this about, father?”

The pendragon cast him a look. There was more than a millennia of living and experience in his eyes, but he was getting too old. The skin under his eyes sagged and wrinkles lined his forehead. His hair had begun graying in the last few years, prompting him to cut it short. Once a shape-shifter dragon reached full maturity they aged very slowly. They didn’t truly begin to look old until near their end.

“I needed to know,” his father answered.

“Know what?”

They reached the clan healer—an older man with a stooped back, scraggly hair, and a long beard. He waited within a circle of seventeen gray standing stones that rose high enough Aidan couldn’t quite touch the top of them with his arm extended.

Along with the fortress, they’d crossed over from the other realm and appeared just outside the walls. The smooth-faced rock was rare and precious to the dragons for its innate powers—if one had the ability to draw from them. Less than a handful of his clan members could do it. They had a few sorcerers there who were capable, but they were kept cloistered out of sight.

“Whether or not you have what it takes to lead,” his father replied.

Aidan scowled at him. “You’ve got two other sons vying for your position. I want nothing to do with it.”

The pendragon put a hand on his shoulder. “We must think of what is best for the clan and rumor has it you were the one to lead our defenses during the last attack.”

Back to that again. “I knew what to do. That is all.”

“Which is exactly my point,” Throm said. “No one else did.”

“Good day, father.”

Aidan spun on his heels and entered the stones, leaving the pendragon to growl at him. A moment later Throm left. He’d have to return to the contest and announce the next participants. Aidan had counted on that.

“Sit,” the healer ordered.

He sank onto the grass and crossed his legs. This wasn’t the first time Aidan had visited. He usually came when his injuries were great enough it would take more than a few days to heal. Dragons recovered much more quickly than humans, but wounds such as his shoulder could take almost a week. He didn’t want Bailey concerned over him when he saw her tomorrow, especially after the way she’d behaved with the stomach wound she’d given him. She needed to focus on her training. The slayer was too soft and caring for the job she had ahead of her.

“I heard you fought well.”

“Don’t start on me, too,” Aidan said, scowling as the healer put his hands on him.

A vibration of power filled the circle and colorful sparks shot off around them.

“You’ve given us hope.”

Aidan snorted. “I have no aspirations beyond living another day.”

“If you say so.”

The pain in Aidan’s body eased. Tingles raced over him as his wounds knitted back together and his skin became whole again. There would be a price for this. He’d have to sleep soon and he wouldn’t be able to wake up for at least eighteen hours. It would leave him vulnerable. If he hadn’t needed to go out tomorrow, he might have waited for the wounds to heal naturally.

“Fortune go with you,” he healer said, removing his hands.

Aidan bowed his head. “And to you.”

He exited the circle of stones to find his eldest brother waiting for him. The muscles in his neck bulged and his eyes were filled with rage. Aidan suspected this might happen. It was one of the reasons he’d wanted to avoid the contest in the first place.

“That was quite a show you put on out there,” Zoran said, crossing his arms.

Aidan stopped before him, ignoring the beast inside who begged for another fight. “What has you so angry, brother?”

“You. No one beats Falcon, and you shouldn’t have, either.”

“I’m sure it was only luck.” Aidan shrugged. “Next time I’ll likely lose.”

Zoran took a step forward and put a hand on his chest. “If you challenge me for father’s position, I will not go as lightly on you as Falcon did.”

They both knew the great warrior had done no such thing.

Aidan lifted his brows. “You know I have no aspirations to become the pendragon.”

He couldn’t count the number of times he’d told his brother this.

“Keep it that way,” Zoran said.

Aidan watched as his brother stomped off. The one thing he could say for him was he attacked from the front. There would be no surprises from him. But as his gaze moved toward the fortress entrance he caught sight of Ruari standing there, staring at him with a malevolence he didn’t bother to hide. A cold shiver ran down Aidan’s spine. Now that was the brother who’d attack where you least expected it.

“Come,” Phoebe said, walking up. “I’ll watch over you while you sleep.”

He nodded at his sister. “That would be appreciated.”

Chapter 22

Bailey

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Conrad leaned against the side of my truck, picking at the dirt beneath his fingernails. As usual, he wore khaki pants and a t-shirt, both of which were clean and free of wrinkles despite our living conditions. I couldn’t figure out how he was doing it and he refused to tell me.

He lifted his head and met my gaze. “You’re not going out there by yourself.”

I put my hands on my hips. “What makes you think I’m going anywhere?”

“Girl, don’t be trying to play that game with me.” He straightened. “I’m the one who has to run interference between you and the rest of the group.”

Damn, I forgot I told him my next training session with Aidan was today. It was nice having someone in on my secret, but it also meant I had to deal with his concern about what I was doing. To say he didn’t like it would be an understatement.

“You can’t come. It’ll just provoke him.”

He shrugged. “The dragon will just have to deal. Shit’s getting dangerous out there and you can’t be driving across town by yourself. If you want me to keep covering for your ass, you gotta let me ride along.”