Highland Burn (24 page)

“She never returned from playing with the girls. The eldest mentioned a scary man in the woods.”

“A man, in the woods?” Bloody hell, she had promised him she would not leave the castle walls. With his hands on his hips James started to pace. “Are ye sure?"

“Aye.”

“How long has she been gone?”

“I’m no sure, my Laird”

James fought back the urge to shake the answers out of her. “Alice, think. I need to know how long?”

Alice couldn’t think straight. Everything began to blur.

At that time Conall and Effie entered the great hall. Realizing the commotion, they instantly raced over to James. “James, what’s happened?” Conall said.

James released Alice. Effie quickly caught Alice as she collapsed into her arms.

“Conall, find Rory. Abigale is missing,” James ordered.

“Aye.” Conall was gone as quickly as he arrived.

“Effie, stay here in case Abigale shows up.”

“Aye,” Effie confirmed.

With haste James stormed up the stairs and toward their bedchamber. Although James knew better than to believe in false hope, he still held on to it as he entered their room. The door slammed open. “Abigale!”

Nothing. No sigh of Abigale anywhere.

James sat down on the bed resting his head in his hands. He shook his head as if wiping away a bad dream. Doubt began to fill his mind; she couldn’t be gone. What if she had left of her own free will? Was she having second thoughts about being married to a dragon? That alone was enough to make a lass run. Nay, she wasn’t a runner. They would have talked about it; that he knew for sure. Alice mentioned a scary man in the woods. Panic pricked him like a thistle. Someone had taken his woman.

With time being of the essence, James stood up and began to quit the room when something shiny and gray caught his eye sticking out from under the bed. Squinting his eyes to focus, he bent down and picked the object up. It was an arrow head. He turned it around and studied the arrow; his blood stained it. The arrow head was the same one that Abigale had removed from his chest. As he looked closer more information became clear. It was made out of flint. "God’s blood,” James cried out. Marcus. He was the only one who made his arrow heads out of this kind of flint. The room started to spin as he took in all this information. Marcus had tried to kill him.

Anger like he’d never felt before pulsed through him, and his dragon stirred impatiently waiting to be released. James squeezed the arrow head until blood trickled down his hand. Indeed there was a traitor lurking around clan Douglas and he had just been found out. James cursed and threw the arrow at the stone wall with such force that it became embedded deep within the stone. "I will take the bastard’s head.”

James stormed out of the room in search of Rory. If anyone could find Abigale, Rory was the one. Out of all the Guardians, his tracking ability was superior. However, James prayed that he wasn’t too late.

Chapter 22

Unless a serpent devour a serpent it will not become a dragon. ~ Chinese Proverb

James sat perched on his massive black war horse on top of the cliff looking down into the valley below. The highland winds blew and rattled the nearby trees that concealed their presence. Conall was mounted on his chestnut steed next to James. His horse pranced in anticipation. “If anyone can find Lady Abigale, ‘tis Rory.”

“Aye.” James sat motionless, amber eyes swirling intensely as he searched for movement below. Rory led them right to Marcus, but the campsite was unnervingly quiet. James sent Rory to find Abigale just in case the enemy had moved her to a different location. Even though James could sense that she was here, he wanted to make sure before they attacked.

James noticed movement towards a smaller cliff and nodded in that direction. “At least two hundred archers over there.”

Conall observed and concurred, “Aye.”

“Och lads, two hundred men and four dragons seems like a disadvantage. Should we play nice?” Magnus said.

“Magnus, if yer lady was held captive… would ye play nice?” James bit back.

“Nay, I’d gut them where they stood.”

A rustle nearby turned their bantering to silence as they drew their swords and waited for an attack.

Rory looked like he had just seen the Devil himself. Three swords stared at him with their pointy ends promising to slash his throat. “God’s Blood, ye almost made me shite myself!”

James sheathed his sword and waited for Rory to speak. “Well?”

“Lady Abigale is here. See that red tent by the forest tree line?” Rory pointed to the tent. “Yer lady is in there. Alive."

Relieved at the good news, James exhaled. “And Marcus?”

“Aye, he’s here. I can feel the bastart.” Rory’s eyes narrowed in disgust.

Once James had informed his men about Marcus and how he’d betrayed the clan, the Dragonkine warriors were shocked and confused. Marcus was one of only a few humans the warriors allowed in their inner circle; primarily because he was James’s cousin. Dragon he was not but he fought on the battlefields like he was. Marcus was considered one of their own. So his betrayal was a bitter brew to swallow.

“Rory, Magnus, stay here and watch those men.” James pointed to the small cliff where the archers were posted. “Conall, come with me."

~~~~~

Marcus and the group of five armored men walked through the campsite. After the news of Sheriff Rickert’s sudden passing, the men who held true to the late sheriff became unruly. Marcus needed to put an end to it. Either you were with him or against him, there was no in between. It wasn't necessary that they needed Rickert’s table scraps of an army. Five inhuman savages could take down an army twice the size without batting an eyelash. Aye, the Creepers came in handy.

With each footstep, Marcus could feel every lash upon his skin due to the sheriff’s beatings begin to tingle, and rage bubbled in his veins. “Are the archers positioned?”

The knight bowed his head to confirm.

“Very well.” Marcus turned to the five. “Remember the lady is to be unharmed.” The leader of the group nodded and drew his sword. No words were spoken, just action as the five massive heavily armored men began to swing their swords into Sherriff Rickert’s ground troops. The men had no time to react. Most of the men were unarmed as they milled around the camp. Blood sprayed as throats were slit, limbs dangled as swords crashed through bodies, and screams rang out into the night. Five men rained down hell upon a hundred men in no time at all. A perfect ambush.

A sardonic smile reached the corners of Marcus’s mouth as he heard the blood-curdling screams. He looked around the looming cliffs and sniffed the air. It wouldn’t be long now. The dragon would come for his woman and he would be waiting for him.

~~~~~

Surprised that they had not been confronted by guards, James and Conall approached the campsite with caution. Their eyes scanned the perimeter, but saw no movement. No soldiers or horses, nothing. They kept their guard up, and continued deeper into the camp. “Something is no right here," James whispered to Conall.

“Aye, do ye smell it?” Conall crinkled up his nose at the foul stench.

“Aye.” James knew the stench of death all too well.

They came to a halt, for the sight before them stole their breath. Lifeless bodies littered the ground, and slashed, tattered material from the tents blew into the night breeze like ribbons rippling through the air. Fear of what might have become of Abigale drove James forward. He had to find her, but by the looks of things it seemed unlikely she would have survived the attack.

“There’s more here than death, James. It’s some kind of magic, I can feel it.” Conall bent down and placed his hands on the ground.

A tingling sensation pricked up his spine as his dragon stirred. No doubt he felt it and so did his dragon. “Creepers,” James snarled.

“Aye, Death Dragons.” Conall stood and wiped his hands on his plaid. “But the question is why are they here?”

“Dinnae know but it can no be good. I can feel it, it’s like a pulse of energy running through my blood. I’ve never felt anything like it." Sweat started to slide down James’s face. This feeling left him unnerved.

“I feel it too, my friend.”

Every dragon instinct told James to shift, but if there was a chance Abigale was here, James didn’t want to scare her.

One tent stood out from the others; it was still intact. James prayed Abigale was in there unharmed and safe. Realization hit him hard in the chest; no one escaped the wrath of the Creepers.

As James approached the tent he saw a head staked outside the entrance. As he got closer he recognized the head. It was the filth who had taken Castle Douglas from him years ago. The filth that James had battled hard against to regain possession. The filth he set on fire and watched burn, so he’d thought. “Rickert,” James hissed.

“Looks like he pissed off the wrong person,” Conall jested.

James kicked the stake over and entered the tent.

James was not prepared for what he saw. His beautiful Abigale sat hugging her knees inside of an iron-barred birdcage. Abigale looked up and his heart sunk to his stomach. Quickly, she stood.

He pushed his hands through the openings of the cage and cupped Abigale’s face. “Are ye hurt, love?”

Dirty tears fell from her deep blue eyes and landed on his hands.

“Hang on. I’ll get ye out of there.” James kissed her hard. He couldn’t believe she was alive. When he broke the kiss, he noticed that her cheek was swollen and there was a cut on her bottom lip. Rubbing his thumb over her lip, he said, “Who hit ye?”

“James, ye must leave now while ye still can,” Abigale pleaded. “It’s a trap. Marcus, he’s going to kill ye.”

“Did he do this to ye?”

“Please, James, ye must leave.”

“Och lass, do ye have no faith in yer husband? I am a dragon in case ye have forgot.”

Abigale didn’t take kindly to his jest. “Not even the Black Douglas can survive those… those armored creatures. James, please leave. Save yerself. Marcus won't hurt me, but he will kill ye.”

“Abigale, Marcus was the one who tried to kill me. Ye can no trust him for his words are lies.”

Conall stood guard just outside the entrance of the tent when the stench of death became stronger and the air surrounding them turned cold. He peeked his head inside the tent. “Ye mind hurrying things up a bit?”

With ease, James pried the iron bars apart just enough for Abigale to step out of the cage. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and whispered in her ear through her auburn hair. ”I thought I lost ye, lass.”

Abigale held tight around his neck. “I’m no that easy to get rid of.”

In no time at all, flaming arrows flew in all directions, piercing the tent and barely missing the three of them. There was no time to hesitate. If they were going to make it out alive, James had to shift. His massive dragon body could shield her from the arrows until she was somewhere safe, but she would have to see him shift. He couldn’t do it. He feared she would never be able to look at him in the same light again; the beast inside would be what she remembered, not the man.

James’s eyes glowed amber, pupils turned to slits, and fingers turned into talons. “Conall, get Abigale out of here.”

Conall knew exactly what was going on; James was about to shift. “Let me shift. Two Dragons are better than one.”

“Nay! Get. Her. Out. Of. Here. Now!” James growled the last word.

Enlarged blue eyes stared back at him. Shite, she had seen his talons. “Now, Conall!”

His second in command grabbed Abigale’s hand and took off towards the forest, dodging arrows on the way.

The look on Abigale’s face told James that he had made the right decision. No way was she ready to see him shift. If he had any say-so about it, she would never see him in dragon form. His dragon was pure evil and menacing. To make things more complicated, he barely had control of it. A young dragon is unpredictable.

Flesh began to peel away, leaving black shimmering scales; his bones began to crack. His spine popped vertebra by vertebra as his human body extended into a massive black dragon with twin horns on top of his head. Leathery black wings unfolded where shoulder blades used to be. In one fluid motion, a wing swept the area, sending the tent flying into the sky.

Like a rain storm, red flames flew through the blackness of the night and showered down pelting James like hail. Arrows struck James in every direction. An earth-rattling roar echoed through the campsite, shaking the tree branches. Wide wings shielded his body from the arrows that threatened to embed in his back. Hopefully Conall could get Abigale to safety; after all he didn’t know how long he could distract the archers. He would take as many arrows as necessary in order to keep Abigale alive.

The assault stopped abruptly. Thank the Gods for Magnus and Rory. They had done their job and stopped the archers.

Out of the corner of James’s eye he saw Marcus crouching down approaching cautiously with his broadsword drawn, waiting to make his deadly blow. James turned his enormous body toward the bastard and growled low and deep. Nostrils flared, amber eyes glowed as James held Marcus’s stare.