The Dragon's Gem (22 page)

“She’s
going to make it,” Ryan told his sister.

“How do you know?” she murmured
wiping her eyes furiously with a tissue.

“Do you remember when she first arrive here and we all thought Draco would eat her alive?”
She nods. “He didn’t, because she stood up to him and made him see what a jackass he was.”

“So,”
Belynda choked out through a fresh round of tears.

“
So,” he pauses. “Aurora is a fighter and I can guarantee that she will fight to get back to Draco so she can continue to kick his butt and drive him crazy some more. That’s what our Gems do.”

I followed
Ryan’s gaze to where Draco kneeled beside the bed, his head bowed as he held my hand, looking sad and defeated. Quickly I moved next to him, shocked to see him crying openly. My strong, brave dragon brought to his knees over me. He murmurs something and I kneel beside him, listening as he prays for my recovery. Promising to do anything the lord wanted if he just let me live. I am stunned and touched by his love for me. I too begin to pray that I might have a second chance to live my life alongside this cocky, arrogant, and utterly wonderful male I have come to love. He sobs loudly in the silent room, unashamed to show his grief, and I reach for him, laying my hand upon his shoulder.

“Aurora,” Draco says
, placing his hand on his shoulder where my own lay. “Don’t leave me,” he cries before dropping his head onto the mattress, with a long mournful cry. “I love you,” he murmured clenching my hand.

I feel it, the tight grip he has on my hand and my heart begins to beat inside of my
chest with hope. I want to live. I want to learn and love and I want to experience all of the things life has to offer. “I won’t leave you,” I whispered, lying on the bed, my spirit merging with my body. “I love you too,” I manage to whisper, squeezing his hand.

“Did you hear that?”
Draco asked his voice filled with hope.

“I did,” Belynda said
.

“Me too,” Ryan added.

“Oh
, baby, I’m so glad you’re your back,” he said. I feel the bed dip next to me and he kisses my lips lightly. I try to open my eyes but they feel heavy and the effort is just too much so I smile as best I can before falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.

***
Draco
***

After a long night of torture where Aurora lay so near death, her whispered words were a soothing balm. I had thought I had lost her. Thought I would never again see her smile, smell her sweet fragrance, or listen when she tells me off for being stupid. In such a short time, she had become my everything, and without her, I know I would be nothing. If I were being unselfish I would make sure she healed and leave her alone, let her live her life without the problems that come from being my mate, but the idea of living a day without her by my side was just too horrific to bear and I was too weak to walk away.

That said
, I knew things were going to have to change. I had been naïve and foolhardy, to believe that I could protect her from any harm, but no longer. I had learned the hard way and I would never again be so easily led into the falsehood that because she is mine, she is untouchable. The female who lay before me battered and depleted was never again going to be placed in harm’s way. I would do whatever it took to ensure that, no matter what the cost. She murmured and I placed her hand over my heart, feeling our hearts synchronize and begin beating as one. With my scale inside of her, she would always be linked to me. If anything should happen to her I would know, I would feel her pain as if it were my own, and I would suffer as greatly as she did, but it would also ensure she lived a very long life and was able to heal quicker if injured, something I wish I would have considered sooner. It was not a step many dragons would make with a human. It made us vulnerable, not only physically, because the scale comes from the area protecting our heart, but emotionally because they would be tied so closely to our lives. “Sleep, baby,” I whispered, kissing her once more. “I won’t leave your side.”

***
Aurora
***

I heard the clock on
the wall chime signaling the midnight hour as I opened my eyes. Automatically my hand moved to my stomach that is wrapped in bandages. A soft cry of pain escaped my lips as I touch the area where I had broken my ribs, but I welcomed the pain. The pain meant I was alive, and that I would see everyone I love again. I removed my hand and it fell on pillow of soft, hair that I realized immediately is Draco’s. He was sound asleep and his soft breathing is soothed my unsettled nerves. I continued to stroke his hair as I looked around the room seeing the holes in the walls, evidence of the horror that had occurred. I looked to the open door seeing my father and mother cuddled together against the wall in the hall, both asleep, and cannot help smiling despite the anger I felt toward the woman who had abandoned me. She might not have been there for me, but she was there for my father now when I knew he needed it most and that meant a lot to me. A soft rustling has me looking toward the window where Max stood looking out at the moonlit garden and I smiled. It is a view I remembered oh so well from my short time as a seeing person when I had Draco’s blood inside of me.

“Oh my G
od,” I whispered. Max turned to stare at me with a smile and I realized for the first time I can see, I can see everything, and it is amazing.

“Hello, Aurora. I am glad to see you awake and l
ooking so much better,” Max said, walking to my side and taking my free hand in his own. “When it thought we had lost you,” he looked to his son with a sigh. “Well let’s just say I thought I would lose my son too.”

“Max,” I whisper
, tears filling my eyes.

“Aurora.
” Draco lifted his head sleepily and looked at me.

“Shh, I’m here.” I tell him
, hoping he will go back to sleep. I can tell he has exhausted himself worrying about me and I want him to rest now that I am out of the woods.

“
You’re awake,” he says, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep before moving to sit beside me, one hand on either side of my face as he stares down at me with a slow smile. “I love you,” he says, rubbing his nose against mine then kissing me gently.

I blush and look at Max
, who seems for the first time since I meet him uncomfortable. “I’ll leave you two alone,” he mumbled walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

“Never again,
” Draco said pressing another kiss to my lips. “I will never let you be harmed again,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion, his body trembling.

“
It wasn’t your fault, Draco. Hershel was crazy. He was angry I let you go so you could be with Melinda again. He wanted revenge, he wanted her, and was willing to anything to get her no matter who he had to hurt to do it.”

“It doesn’t matter. You will nev
er again be vulnerable. Never again will anyone be able to hurt you.” He kissed me again, brushing his knuckles down my cheek, looking upon me with so much love it hurts.

I can already tell he is going to be overbearing and overprotective once I am fully recovered and that worries me.
“Draco, you can’t place me in an ivory tower, I wouldn’t be happy and neither would you,” I murmur as he kisses me again.

“Shh, we ca
n talk about it later after you’re better,” he says rolling his eyes and lying next to me, pulling my head onto his shoulder.

“I saw that,” I
scold.

“What?” he
murmurs as his fingers gliding through my hair, making me feel all kinds of things I didn’t want to feel while I was chastising him.

“
You rolled your eyes at me, Draco. I saw it.”

I waited for it to sink in
and when it did, he pulled me gently into his arms, kissed me so tenderly and with so much passion I could feel his love surround me, taking away all of the upset I had felt just moments before. “You can see me?” he said excitedly.

“As clear as day,” I
answered, smiling like a fool.

“
I should have implanted my scale in you instead of my blood in the first place,” he muttered, hugging me close.

“Your blood
is what saved us, Soran and I,” I told him.

He shook
his head, looking angry. “Don’t. I can’t talk about Soran and what happened between you right now. I’m too glad you’re here, alive and in my arms.” I noticed his clenched jaw and realize Soran must have told him that he drank my blood and I flinch. “I don’t blame you, baby,” he said, holding my chin in his fingers and brushing another kiss over my lips.

“Draco, he saved me,” I murmur
ed against his lips.

“He dared to
touch you! I can’t forget that.” His body trembled with barely checked rage and I pressed my lips back to his. My efforts to calm him worked and soon I am once again cocooned in his arms feeling his love surround me.

The sound of s
omeone clearing their throat had Draco moving swiftly from the bed as my father entered the room, looking rumpled and tired, but overjoyed to see me awake.

“I’ll just go
see Nate and make sure there is enough security now that you are feeling better.” He kissed my cheek and turns to my father. “Sir, I swear, as long as I am alive she will never again be put in this position.” My father nodded and Draco walked out leaving us alone.

“So, Draco
, huh?” he asked with a sad smile as he sat next to me, taking my hand in his own.

“So
, Mom,” I returned, reaching up to shove a lock of stray hair behind his ear.

H
e gaped at me, tears filling his eyes as I smiled meeting his gaze for the first time ever in my life. “You can see,” he whispered.

I nod
ded. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, my angel.”
He gave me an awkward hug, afraid to hurt me, I was sure, and smiled. “So I guess after all these years you have finally caught your dragon.”

I
couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, but now that I have him I’m not sure what to do with him.”

“Oh, I think you are smart enough to work that out,”
he said. “After all you are a Gem among the many rocks that litter the world.”

I laugh
ed at his impersonation of our principal, but inside my stomach was in knots. My dragon might be caught, but I had the feeling he would never be tamed. Of course, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try.

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Please read on for an excerpt from “Necromancy for Beginners”

“Necromancy for Beginners”

The full moon overhead was hidden by a passing cloud, making the night dark as pitch, as the two children crept down the sidewalk of the sleepy little town where they lived. The female child was excited and eager to reach their destination, but the male child was sullen and in no real hurry as he stumbled along sleepily behind her.

“Come on, Hunter, I have a surprise for you,” the female said, tugging his hand. “We’re almost there.”

The boy looked up eagerly, happy to be close to their destination, but when he saw the large stone pillars connected to the ancient wrought-iron fencing that marked the beginning of the local cemetery, he dug in his heels, stopping their progress. “I don’t know what you’re up to, Hope, but it’s the middle of the night,” he squealed, chewing his lip nervously. “I don’t want to go in there.”

Hope sighed, looking at her best friend with sympathy. He had buried his grandmother that morning in the exact cemetery they stood before. She understood his hesitance, but she had to get him to follow her inside, or all of her hard work would be for nothing.

“Come on, I promise this is a good surprise,” she said, tugging his hand again.

Hunter gazed into her big blue eyes, and he knew he was going to do what she asked despite his reservations about their being alone, in a cemetery, by themselves that late at night. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But if we get killed it’s your fault!”

Hope never doubted he would go along with her plan. In fact, she had counted on his inability to tell her no, to get him inside the cemetery. “Okay, close your eyes now,” she told him, giddy with excitement as they reached the massive gate that was the only entrance in and out of the cemetery.

The intricate curves and twists of metal were a true testament to the people who had at one time cared enough to make sure their loved ones were safe and protected even after their lives had ended. So protected, that the gates were locked tight at eight every night until seven the following morning when the old, cantankerous caretaker appeared to reopen them. Their being locked didn’t bother Hope, though; she had help on the inside to open the gates for them.

Hunter gulped, staring apprehensively at the fence that kept him and the residents of the cemetery separated. He certainly did not want to go inside, but he also did not want to appear weak in front of Hope. She had been his best friend since they were in diapers. Where one went the other did too, which was exactly why he was standing in front of a dark, creepy cemetery in the middle of the night instead of in his warm, soft bed.

“Just do it for me,” she pleaded, seeing his hesitance.

Hunter closed his eyes, reminding himself that he trusted her completely. Unfortunately, that trust didn’t prevent him from imagining a herd of horrible zombies clawing their way from their graves to attack them.

With Hunter’s eyes firmly closed, Hope waved to the soft wispy form of a child dressed in Victorian clothing that hovered between the nearby tombstones watching them. Her name was Annabelle. Hope had met her that morning after the funeral, while she had waited for her parents to give their condolences to Hunter’s family. Hope tried to explain that her spirit needed to move on to the next realm, but Annabelle had been adamant that her mother was coming for her. She refused to leave, so until Hope could convince her that her mother was not coming for her she knew the spirit would continue to linger there. Child spirits were notoriously stubborn. Often they stayed earth-bound out fear of the unexpected, refusing to pass on to a place they knew nothing about. She made a mental note to talk to her grandmother about it, but in the meantime, she needed the spirit’s help.

She waved again, and the spirit moved toward the gate stopping directly in front of her, its transparent, elegantly dressed figure floating a few inches above the grass smiling at her. She
pointed to the lock, and the ghost nodded, placing a transparent hand on the metal, allowing a mist-like finger to work its way into the keyhole. A soft click signaled the gate unlocking, and the ghost pulled its finger free with a triumphant smile.

“Thank you,” she mouthed silently fearing Hunter would freak out if he heard her talking to non-existent people.

Annabelle bobbed her head then floated away, disappearing into the night and leaving them alone once again.

A loud creaking noise sounded, sending chills down Hunter’s spine, but he kept his eyes firmly sealed as Hope had requested, even though he wanted nothing more than to run back home and forget the entire evening. When she had come to his house, climbed the tree outside, and knocked on his window he had thought they were going on an adventure. Now, though, he wasn’t sure what she was up to and that worried him.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” Hope told Hunter, grabbing his hand once more and pulling him through the gate before he could protest.

Hunter opened his eyes and bit his lip to keep from crying out at the ghastly sight before him. The bright bluish glow of the moon as it moved from behind the clouds cast eerie shadows on the headstones and monuments Hope led him past. Each one seemed taller and more imposing to Hunter than they had been earlier in the day when they had buried his grandmother, and there was a stillness about the place that only added to his growing sense of unease. “I don’t like this!” he whined as she pulled him further into the cemetery. He was not by nature easily spooked, but being there in the middle of the night, where hundreds of dead bodies lay buried just under his feet, he was downright terrified.

He looked to Hope, expecting to see the same fear mirrored in her eyes, but was surprised to find her oddly at ease, almost smiling as she walked confidently amongst the rows of ancient tombstones bearing the names of those who been buried there since the town was founded in the early 1700s.

“We are almost there,” she told him, unconcerned by the many spirits that watched their movements curiously. It was unusual for humans to roam their territory so late at night, so she did not begrudge them their fascination.

“Where are we going?” Hunter asked nervously, nearly jumping out if his skin when a large black cat jumped from a nearby tombstone to land at his feet, its pitiful cries for attention shrill amongst the silence of the cemetery.

“Samson, knock that off!” Hope scolded, trying not laugh at Hunter, whose eyes were popping from their sockets in an almost comical fashion.

The cat meowed, rubbed against Hunter’s leg, and then sat on its haunches at Hope’s feet, its yellow eyes glowing in the dark as he stared up at them boldly.

“Forgive him, he is not used to seeing those of us who are alive this time of the night, he just got a little excited.” She patted the cat’s head and smiled warmly when he rubbed against her palm and began to purr.

Hunter watched the exchange with goose bumps rising on his flesh, wondering how she knew the cat’s name, and why she had said, “those of us who are alive?” Before he could analyze it any further, though, she began tugging him forward again.

He followed dutifully, watching her closely. She seemed happy, almost at peace as she led him through the maze of new and old gravesites, not seeming the least bit scared. Not that it mattered: he was plenty afraid for them both, and his trembling hands proved it. “What are we doing here?” he asked anxiously, scanning the area to be sure nothing else was going to jump out at him unexpectedly.

The cry of a lone owl flying overhead made his heart beat faster, and suddenly every terrifying horror movie he had ever secretly watched on his laptop while his parents slept came to mind. He knew it was foolish, knew the dead could not come to life, but it didn’t stop his imagination from working overtime. “It’s late, we should go home,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow, when it’s light out?”

“Nope, we’re already here,” she told him, coming to a stop at a freshly covered grave.

“Why are we here?” he asked woodenly, staring at his grandmother’s final resting place warily.

“I have a surprise, but first you have to promise not to tell anyone what you see here tonight.” She let go of his hand and walked around the grave, lighting a small battery-operated lantern that she had placed there earlier in the evening to illuminate the area.

“I don’t know what you are up to, but I think we should go home right now!” he cried out angrily. The pain of his grandmother’s passing was fresh, and he did not appreciate her dragging him to her grave in the middle of the night to play some sort of sick game.

“Just promise and this can all be over,” she said, barely able to contain her excitement despite his clearly agitated state.

Wanting only to leave, he gave in so they could get it over with and get out of there. “Fine, I promise. Now what is so important you drug me out here?”

“Look!” she said, turning the lantern she held to light the area just off to the side of the freshly covered grave.

There in the shadows of a tall evergreen stood his grandmother. Her white hair pulled into a bun, wearing the brightly flowered dress they had buried her in, holding out her arms to him a with an awkward, lopsided smile. Immediately he looked to Hope for an explanation, for any idea how such a thing could happen, but she just smiled, seemingly unconcerned that his deceased grandmother was alive and standing before them.

“Well, go on, she’s been waiting for you,” Hope said giving him a little push toward the woman.

Hunter’s feet were leaden as he edged towards his grandmother, unable to believe she was standing before him after he had spent the last week mourning her loss. He wanted to believe it was true that somehow she had come back to them, but the closer he got to the waiting figure, the more he noted things that were terribly wrong.

Her once-vibrant eyes were now hollow and lifeless. Her skin, which was always porcelain, was sallow and sickly in appearance, and her jaw hung slack as if she had no control over it. He paused as the moonlight illuminated her clearly for the first time, noting the red Southern dirt that streaked her clothing, stained her hands, and matted her once-pristine white hair. Quickly, he realized that whatever it was that stood before him was not the fun-loving, outgoing grandmother he had known, but a real-life zombie raised from her grave. As if sensing his hesitation, she moaned his name, clumsily reaching for him.

Immediately, he took a step back and looked at Hope with fearful eyes. “What have you done!” he screamed, horrified by the situation before him.

“I brought her back, so you don’t have to miss her anymore,” she murmured, realizing for the first time that bringing his grandmother back might not have been such a brilliant idea.

“Brought her back?” he bellowed, staring at Hope in disbelief as she wrung her hands, noting for the first time the large bandage that covered one of her palms. He stared at the bandage, recalling a time when had she told him that she could raise dead animals with just a drop of her blood. He had thought she was joking with him, but now as he looked between her and his dead grandmother, he realized she had been telling the truth.

“Did you raise my grandmother from her grave?” he asked despite the evidence before him. She nodded and he fell to his knees, his body shaking as tears filled his eyes. “How could you do this? Why would you even try?”

Hope ran to his side, placing her arms around him, pleading with him to forgive her, but he refused to look at her. What she had done was cruel and the pain he felt seeing his grandmother in such a sad state was agonizing. Shoving her away, he stood on shaky legs and turned to go.

“Hunter, please, I just wanted to make you happy!” she cried out, tears streaming down her cheeks as she sat on the dew-dampened grass, regretting what she had done.

He stopped walking and turned to look at her, hatred taking the place of the love he had always felt for her. Then he looked over her shoulder to his grandmother, who shuffled toward them. Her motions were awkward and slow as she moaned his name repeatedly in a barely audible tone that freaked him out. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to hurt Hope the way he was hurting, and before he could stop himself, he let loose the rage inside of him. “You are a freak, Hope Lancaster. I will never forgive you for this, NEVER!” he screamed, before turning and running off through the cemetery. His earlier fears about being amongst the gravestones were gone now that he had seen true horror.

Hope watched helplessly as her best friend ran away, hating both herself and the curse that made her different from everyone else. With a rueful look to Hunter’s grandmother, she vowed then and there to never again use her necromancy.
No matter what the reason.