Throne of Oak (Maggie's Grove) (8 page)

The rumbling didn’t let up. If anything, it grew stronger, practically making him vibrate. His arms tightened around her in a display of possessiveness that might have annoyed her on any other day.

Today, she needed to feel safe, to be held like this. She wasn’t Queen, she was Mina, and her mate was hurting on her behalf and ready to take on whatever had harmed her.

“
Eşti sigură
,
iubita.
”

He was using the bond he’d established with her to speak to her, trying to calm her.

That was it! Why hadn’t she thought of that before? If he could do that, so could she. “
Dragos
,
it’s all right.
I’m okay.
”

The rumble paused, but picked right back up again as Dragos took a step back. He turned his body, placing himself between her and whatever he perceived as dangerous. She could guess what that was. “Ash. Greer. Hold. Don’t come any closer.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Greer’s voice wasn’t any steadier than Ash’s. “Say, Dragos? Is your Renfield okay?”

The rumble paused again.

“Your Renfield. He’s all right?”

Thing was, the concern in Greer’s voice was genuine. If Dragos hadn’t gone all cave-vamp on them, he’d still have asked that question, in the exact same tone of voice.

Deep down, Dragos must have sensed it too, because his arms relaxed. “He’s found his mate.”

“Oh? Why would that scare him?”

“It’s my brother.”

There was a pause as the dryads all absorbed that bit of information.

“Vasile?” Mina lifted her head and stared up into Dragos’s bloodred eyes. Shit, he was still more than halfway gone.

“Trajan.”

“Oh.” She frowned, sure that Vasile had warned against Trajan. “He frightened your Renfield?” If so, she’d take Vasile’s warning to heart.

“The fact that he’s male is what frightened Eddy. And apparently Trajan said something about eating him.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess humans would be good with ketchup.”

Mina hid her face once more against Dragos’s chest as the sound of a smack told her Ash wasn’t finding Greer’s joke funny. “Moron.”

“What? I’m just saying.”

Dragos rubbed his cheek against the top of her head.

“Stay still. He’s scent marking you. That will help soothe his beast.” Mina obeyed Ash’s advice. Out of all of them, he understood the shifters the best, and often worked with them to patrol the forest. She hadn’t realized there was that much shifter left in her lover, but if it eased him she’d let him rub all over her.

That low, rumbling growl turned into something suspiciously like a purr. “I like the way you think.”

“This is serious, Dragos. The voice is trying to make me believe that Terri is somehow inside me, and that if I give in she’ll take over the forest. Do you know what happens if I let go?”

“Oh, shit.” She could hear Ash and Greer scrambling for cover, but she couldn’t tell which one of them had muttered the soft curse.

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Do you remember the
last
time Oak went mad?”

There went the purr, damn it. She liked that a lot more than the low growl he was voicing again. His arms tightened around her. “The dryads were forced to put him down.”

She braced herself. “Yes.”

“He was killing everything that entered the forest.” His tone was soft, thoughtful. He remembered, and that freaked her out a little bit. Sometimes she forgot exactly how old Dragos was. He’d founded the town in the mid-sixteen hundreds and had been ruling it ever since. How long had he lived before being turned?

Other than his Renfields, had he been totally alone? Part of her hoped he hadn’t been, that he’d found some solace over the years.

The other part, the larger part, remembered Kate, and wished he’d saved himself.

“We know.” All the dryads did. The story of Oak, how the madness had taken him, was passed down to every young dryad in the forest.

It was one of but many legends Amara knew nothing about, as she hadn’t grown up with them. The others, though. They knew.

Mina thought that was why they’d been so cruel to the hamadryad when they discovered she was different, and that Mina, Ash, Greer and Iva were keeping their distance. They must have believed Amara was a danger to them, much as their long-ago King had been. Only Glinda, as Amara’s guardian and de facto parent, had kept the ruling dryads from claiming Amara. She’d wanted Amara to grow up protected from knowing what she was. Unfortunately, Glinda had been unaware of the grief she was causing the girl she thought of as her daughter. While things had gotten better in town, there were still a few holdouts who believed Amara was a danger to them.

Dragos was rubbing his cheek on the top of her head again. “I was the one who gave the order to hunt him down.”

Of course he’d been. She expected no less of him. “But the dryads took care of him first.”

“I will destroy anything that threatens you.”

He’d said it in the same thoughtful, quiet tone, and she
knew.
Mina was glad Ash and Greer had made for the hills.

Her vampire had gone over to his beast.

* * *

Dragos took a deep breath, but nothing could soothe the beast within him. The dragon had finally woken, and nothing would put him back to sleep except the deaths of those who threatened his mate.

“Dragos?”

He would delve into his mate’s mind, find the elusive psychic scent he needed to follow. The tang of Mina’s pain still filled his nostrils—a driving whip to his rage.

“Dragos, talk to me.”

He stroked her hair, the urge to find her tormentor driving him into the sky. Mina gasped as they flew above her oak, but he would not put her down. Every time he left her alone she was injured, and there was only one solution for that. The beast was demanding nothing less than constant contact. If he was with her, if he touched her, she would be safe.

He would let her go only when he had their enemy beneath his claws.

“
Dragomir Ibanescu!
”

Dragos blinked, startled. The rage of his beast receded a bit at the sound of his name. It was a magic all dragons responded to, a cry they could not ignore when those they cared for and protected called for them.

From the
sotiei
of a vampiric dragon, it was a siren’s song. He stared at Mina, aware that his beast was rumbling with pleasure at the sound of their name on her lips. His entire focus shifted, becoming hers alone. The threat was not immediate. “Yes?”

She looked down, then her head snapped up. “Eep.” She was trembling against him, her fear perfuming the air around them, her face white as milk.

He tilted his head. He was close to the change, his beast clawing at his skin to get out. He shuddered, holding the beast within his skin. He hadn’t lost control for fifty years, and that had been when he’d found his Renfield, Eddy’s grandfather, murdered by a Van Helsing. The town still had legends about the reclusive dragon shifter who lived at the edge of the forest. “Why are you afraid?”

Didn’t she know that he was there, that he would protect her from everything? It was bred into him, blood and bone, despite his father’s best efforts to deny it. Dragons had been created to protect and defend, and now all that need was centered on Mina.

“Dryads weren’t meant to fly.”

He looked down.

Oh.

They
were
a little high above the trees, weren’t they? They were high enough that the trees were little green dots. He doubted Mina could see them at all, even under the light of the half moon.

But more importantly, she wasn’t in the Throne any more. “You aren’t in pain.”

He wanted to roll his eyes at his own stupidity. The beast was still in control, making Dragos sound like an idiot.

“Uh. Scared out of my wits, but no pain.”

He narrowed his eyes and drifted slowly to his left, trying not to alert her to his intentions. His beast rumbled its approval of his plan. “We won’t let you fall.”

“We?” She kept her gaze focused on his face, which was exactly what he wanted her to do. If she was watching him, she wasn’t watching where they were going.

“You know what I am. The beast that still lives in me. We are one.”

She frowned, apparently still unaware that they’d passed over the edge of the Throne. “I thought becoming a vampire automatically made you...a vampire.”

He chuckled. The further they got from the Throne, the easier it was to beat back the beast. Whatever had harmed her might be tied to the very center of her power. If so, it was something they’d have to deal with sooner rather than later. But for now?

For now, she was safe.

“That may be true for werewolves, but not for dragons. Witches lose some of their powers when they receive the Kiss, and werewolves might lose their wolves, but dragons retain who and what they were. Our very souls are tied to the magic around us. Not even something like the Kiss can take that away.”

“So you can turn into a dragon.”

He winced. “Yes.”

Her brows rose. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Many things.”

“Such as?”

He sighed. She was going to push this. “When a dragon receives the Kiss, he becomes different from others of his kind. Because of the magic within us, dragons are afraid of anything that changes the core of what we are, and the Kiss does that. We become both more and less than what we once were, and that change is visible in our scales and eyes. We look nothing like other dragons, so they drive us out, exile us.”

“That was why your father drove you away?”

“Among other reasons, yes.” Like the fact that he’d been stronger than Laurentiu’s precious heir, Vasile, despite the fact that Vasile was one of the strongest dragons ever born. Or that Dragos was more beloved of their people than Trajan, the charming rogue of the family. Indeed, had he wished it, he could have unseated Laurentiu from his throne and taken it for himself.

Dragos had no desire to rule dragon-kind. He never had. But his father couldn’t see that. All he saw was Dragos trying his best to make the lot of dragon-kind better, whether Laurentiu approved or not. He’d gone after his son with a vengeance, taking out his personal guard and nearly destroying Dragos. The leader of the dragon-kind would later swear it was assassins, but Dragos knew the truth.

His father had tried to kill him before he ever became a vampire.

So when Dragos, wounded and dying, had been given the Kiss by his friend Katarn, Laurentiu took the opportunity to declare a hunt on Dragos, prepared to end his existence once and for all. His own brothers had led the way—something Dragos would never forget. Only the fact that they’d stopped chasing once he was off their lands had allowed him to meet Trajan with anything resembling courtesy.

The hunters who’d come later had never been dragons, and thus had been easily dealt with, but there had been times when he’d been forced to use his dragon to win. Thus the tales of the weredragon that lived on the edge of town grew until Dragos knew he had to put a stop to them. He did his best to scoff at the tales without actually lying. He’d merely smile, or quirk his brow quizzically, and his people would turn away from the tales. Eventually, the legend of the Maggie’s Grove weredragon had become just that—a legend. And until now Dragos had been content to let it stay that way.

That was going to change, thanks to Laurentiu. The man refused to leave him alone, testing him every fifty years or so to see if he’d grown soft. The last time he’d used a Raksasha—a tiger-demon bent on capturing Dragos’s head. He’d been stubborn beyond belief, and the damage he’d managed to inflict on the Big Savage Mountain Ranger Station had been extensive. Luckily, the man who ran the center, Ian Rockford, had managed to defeat the Raksasha before he ever found Dragos.

Rock, as an earth elemental, often fooled people into thinking he wasn’t nearly as dangerous as he was.

The Raksasha had left, licking its wounds and vowing never to return.

Thinking back on his meetings with Trajan, maybe things were different from what he’d first thought. Perhaps his brothers didn’t share their father’s hatred after all... But it would be best to keep them at arm’s length until he was certain. Allowing them close to his
sotiei
while unsure of their loyalties was a risk he was unwilling to take, despite Trajan’s mating of Eddy.

She bit her lip, and he had the urge to kiss away the hurt. “Show me.”

“Show you what?”

“Your dragon.”

“When hell sells suntan lotion and becomes a tourist spot.”

She glared up at him, ready to argue, and although he could understand where she was coming from, it wasn’t going to happen. His dragon would remain hidden unless the danger became so great he had no choice but to release it.

“I mean it, Mina. If I show you my dragon there is a damn good reason for it, and it’s going to result in a death.”

“You
feed
in that form?” She sounded utterly horrified.

“Of course not.” Not in centuries. He’d learned to control the hunger in that form. But if his dragon was ascendant it was only because something majorly dangerous was in the area, something he couldn’t handle as just a vampire. He’d almost lost control when he found Mina pinned to her tree. If Terri had still been alive, his beast would have been unleashed and all hell would have broken loose.

A quick glance down showed him they were approaching the Big Savage Mountain Ranger Station. He needed to continue to distract her, to pull her away from the Throne and what might be poisoning her there.

He grinned at her. “Have I mentioned I’m hungry?

“When hell becomes a tourist spot?”

“Now you’re just being mean.”

She held on to him tightly, burying her face against the side of his neck with a weary sigh. He realized she was beginning to shake. “So. Maggie’s Grove...”

He’d wondered when she’d ask.

“Who’s Maggie?”

He planted a kiss on top of her head. She was doing beautifully, but if she needed a distraction it might be time to turn back to the Throne. “When I first arrived in Maryland and came here, eager to lick my wounds and start over, there was already a Throne and a Queen.”