Magical Lover (12 page)

Oh, Goddess no. Please let Thoren come, please let Thoren come.

The Draconi laughed. “You’ll find me pleasing, don’t worry. I’ll unlock your powers and together we’ll wreak vengeance on the others. You’ll even enjoy it because I said you would.” He laughed again, the noise echoing in the room.

Crazy. He was crazy and Simon was one step behind him. Why her? Oh, of course. She was the only Draconi woman nearby. Guess he couldn’t get one from Draconia so he had to settle for her. Great. If her heart pounded any harder, it would burst.

Simon hummed as he worked, heating the water to a boil, the hooded Draconi standing watch beside him.

“Finished! Now missy, you’ll drink and do as I want.” Simon held a cup in his hand as he turned toward her.

“Give that to me. I control her.” The Draconi held out his hand.

Simon looked into the shadows of the cowl and his face lost all expression. Wordlessly he handed over the cup.

“Ah, my love. Drink and you shall be mine. Remove her gag.”

Simon, face still blank, bent over and untied the gag. Keara ran her tongue around the inside of her dry mouth, relieved to have the gag gone. She pressed her lips together. They could think again if they thought she’d just open her mouth and let them give her that drink.

The hooded Draconi placed the cup against her lips. She turned her head, pulling her bonds as far away from him as possible. Her pulse raced in her ears, her heart thudding against her chest.

“Now, now. Don’t be like that. Help me out.”

Simon grabbed her jaw, squeezing until she moaned from the pain. And then he pinched her nose shut.

“Open for me, Keara. Open and breathe.”

Keara shook her head, trying to dislodge his hand. She saw stars as she forced her body not to draw a breath through her mouth. She tried to retain consciousness, tried to keep her lips sealed, but it was useless. In the end, the drug spewed down the back of her throat, trickling out of her mouth.

She couldn’t have been unconscious for long, for she came to her senses choking on the drink, trying to breathe. The hooded Draconi held the cup almost upside down over her mouth, draining it down her spasming throat.

“Good, my love. Now we wait.” A cold hand stroked her arm.

Taking the cup, Simon walked across the room and placed it on the table. The evil hooded Draconi sat next to her, the creepy nothingness of his face staring at her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to breathe, tried to spit out some of the drug. Unfortunately, most of it had gone down into her stomach. She shivered. She would fight him, she couldn’t let him control her.

The room started to spin and she shut her eyes against the dizziness that threatened. Too soon! The drug worked too quickly. She opened her eyes, her vision swimming at the edges. She didn’t feel any different, only her vision changed.

“I think it’s starting to work.” The hooded Draconi peered into her eyes. “Her pupils are dilated.”

“Good, good. That means the potion is working. Let’s try a test.”

Nodding to the Draconi, Simon took the knife and cut through the bonds holding Keara to the bed.

“Don’t move,” the Draconi said and despite her desire and her brain screaming at her to run, fight, do anything but lie still, her body refused to move.

Keara stared at the face in the shadows as the men rubbed her wrists.

“Oh, she’s good. This is great. I didn’t think it would work so well.”

“I told you I knew how to mix it.”

“Give me your knife.” Simon handed over his knife. “Now Keara, take this knife and throw it at the fireplace.”

Without pause, she grabbed the knife from the Draconi, aimed and threw. At least it was the fireplace and not a person. She had no control. Not even for a second did she think of disobeying him. She wanted to scream and yet she turned back to him.

He kissed her, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth. Her mind wanted to gag, to push him away. But her body let him. Oh, Goddess.

Stroking her hair, he turned to Simon. “Get me the knife.”

Simon obeyed as if he’d had a dose of zombie dust. Within seconds the knife was back in her hand.

“We have to step out. Simon and I have things to discuss that don’t involve your pretty little ears, but don’t fret. I’ll be back. And when I do, we’ll make good use of this bed. Until we return, guard the door and don’t let anyone in the room. Throw the knife at them if they try to come in. Understand?”

Keara nodded. His thumb traced her lips. “That’s my girl.”

He arranged her so she sat on the edge of the bed, ankles still tied together, knife in hand, facing the door.

“See you soon.”

“Don’t go anywhere, Keara,” Simon sneered, shutting the door behind them.

Finally, they were gone. Now she just had to untie her ankles and walk out. Untie her ankles...

Her brain gave the command but nothing happened. She remained sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the door. The longer she tried to move and got nowhere, the more terrified she became. A puppet. No will. No mind. Only strings.

Dear Goddess. This was not good.

Chapter 8

Water dripped steadily from the ceiling of the sewer line, little drops reminding Thoren of each minute Keara had been captured. Was she dead? Why was the lord so interested in her? He felt the beast stirring inside and forced his mind to think of other things. How long could he go between breaths?

“Here.” Jamie stopped, pointing at a wooden door crossed with metal bars.

“Praise the Goddess!” Enar muttered, holding his nose.

Thoren held his hand containing the conjured blue fire closer to the opening. Rust covered the lock, evidence of its lack of use. He raised a brow at Jamie.

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You opened this door?”

Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “He wanted Keara. I had to know how to get to him in case he took her. So’s I could get her out.”

“And this is his?”

“I said it was.” Jamie pointed to a stone with etchings. “It’s written right there. Carved into that stone. That’s what the thieves do, see. Carve whose house it is into the stone. Think you can get in?”

“I know I can get in. One day I’ll teach you, but now...” Whispering a spell, he unlocked the door. A good thud with his shoulder and the door squeaked open on its hinges.

“You have to teach me how to do that!” Jamie said.

Enar walked past him, short sword in hand. “Think a big bad Draconi like you can make a spell that keeps the whole town from knowing we’re entering?”

“How do you know I didn’t?”

“Niiiice.”

Thoren stepped inside behind Enar, motioning for Jamie to remain in the sewer. The boy should be safe there. Who knew what they’d find inside?

The door opened into a storage area. A tiny room filled with dirt-covered boxes and crates. The blue light from Thoren’s fire flickered against the stone walls, casting long shadows that danced like eerie spirits. Enar strode across the small room, sword at the ready, reaching the door on the opposite side with Thoren right behind him.

“Ready?” Enar’s hand hovered above the latch, face turned toward Thoren.

“Ready.” What would he do if Keara died? Steam brushed against his throat and red clouded his vision.
Focus on the moment, focus on the moment.
If he dwelled too much on the what-ifs, his ability to react to the current situation would diminish.
Focus, focus
. The steam dissipated and his thoughts returned to what was happening here, now.

Enar flung his weight against the door, which opened without a sound. Thoren inhaled deeply, drawing scent through his nose. The slight scent of Keara mingled with the overpowering scent of Draconi, male Draconi. What in the name of the Goddess?

A glance at Enar told him the Watcher didn’t smell the scent. What did he expect? His friend, although powerful, was not a Draconi and didn’t have the same tracking ability.

“Enar.”

“What?”

“Do you smell what I do?”

Enar knelt by a burned corpse. “That this man’s dead and burned to a crisp?”

“Huh?” Thoren looked at the charred heap of what used to be a man lying by Enar. Charred heap of man, scent of male Draconi. Thoren pivoted, turning the opposite way of where the man lay, looking toward where the fire obviously originated.

“What were you talking of then?” Leather creaked as Enar rose to his feet.

“Oh, that maybe.” Thoren pointed toward the large, male Draconi trapped behind the bars, stuffed into a cell not designed for him.

Enar drew a sharp breath. “By the Goddess! How did he get there?”

Are you two going to point and stare all day or do something about me? That filthy son of a goat took a female Draconi up those stairs.
The scaled dragon motioned with his head toward the small set of stairs behind the dead man.
Well, don’t just stand there, move!

Thoren jumped as the dragon’s voice echoed through his mind. A Draconi male locked in a cell. Who would have thought he’d find that in Caustasia? How could a Draconi get into a cell? He shook his head, walking toward the dragon.

Stop! Not you! The Watcher must free me. The bars are titanium.

Thoren cursed. Titanium was the only thing that could stop a Draconi from working his magic. No wonder the creature stood behind the bars. But why was he in dragon form? If captured in human form he would remain as a human and it was virtually impossible to capture a Draconi in his dragon form. Unless...a shudder rippled through him.

The dragon’s capture must have happened while in human form prior to going through his Change. If no female was found to help ease a male’s way through the changes his body underwent, he would remain in dragon form until death. To be locked away, to never have the choice given you. Thoren shuddered again.

“How long?”

The dragon sighed.
Too long. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of what would happen to the one that put me in this cell once I was freed. Enough about me, you need to save that female, she’s been upstairs too long as it is. Your Watcher can free me.

“I can free you,” a voice with enough confidence to suit a giant spoke from the storage room.

Thoren turned to Jamie who stood in the doorway to the small storage room. Was it too much to ask the lad to stay put? Apparently so. Although if given a choice between staying in a sewer and disobeying an order, he’d probably have done the same thing.

“I thought I told you to stay put.”

Jamie’s eyes blazed. “Thought I could help. And I was right. I can free him,” he waved his hand in the direction of the dragon, “and you two can free Keara.”

“You can’t touch the bars either, Jamie. You’re part Draconi. Same as Keara.” Thoren waited for shock to pass over Jamie’s face, but the boy just shrugged.