Dragon Guardian (Drakins of Wyrmarach) (14 page)

Wren asked, “Guardian of the people?”

Ethan paled, “I believe that is a reference to, The Dragon
Guardian.”

“Dragon Guardian?
What’s that?”
Wren didn’t like the looks the three were giving her. At first
she hoped it was just blood loss more than his reaction to the Goddess’ words.
Then took it back horrified that she’d cut them with her sword.

Ethan looked from Caleb to Izzy, a sick expression on his
face. “It’s hard to explain. The Guardian is a protector of our people and
spiritual advisor, voice of the Goddess, so to speak. At one time he or she was
maybe even more powerful than the Queen.

Then over 300 years ago the Guardian just disappeared. Some
thought her dead but the prevailing concept is that she left unable to face the
wickedness of the people any longer. Most agree, that one event signaled the
decline of our society. The Queen had free reign without opposition.”

Wren tried to process what he was saying. She whispered,
“Read the rest.”

He nodded. “Learn the heritage you’re born unto and wield
your powers with wisdom and grace.”

Yeah, she’d kinda failed at that already.

 
“This blade is yours
to use to focus the will of your authority. It will aid you in discovering the
varied powers you are heir to. The foremost is the power over transition.” He
looked up from the paper. “Where’s the rest?”

Izzy raised her chin and answered in a belligerent tone of
voice. “That’s all she said. That’s all that happened. After that she split the
veil and left.”

“You mean she opened a portal to step through?”

“No, I mean she split the veil like a curtain and stepped
through.” Izzy crooked her finger at Ethan.
“Your turn.”

He stood leaning back against the counter. Ethan pulled the bloody
towel away from his crotch. His jeans were split across the zipper over his
pelvis.

Izzy whistled. “That sucker cut right through the zipper
metal. You’re jeans are toast. I hope you brought another pair of pants.”

She crouched down to examine the wound.

He clenched the counter. “I think I can come up with
something.”

She stuck her gloved fingers in the wound.

Wren wasn’t sure where she’d found rubber gloves around the
shop, maybe from in the medicine kit.

“Wow, she meant business with you dude.” Izzy laughed. “Do
not
get the woman mad. You won’t like
her when she’s mad.”

“I…I…really don’t know what happened. I’m so sorry. The blade
was dull. I swear it was. I was so angry and hurt. I was just going to thump
you a little. Then, I don’t know what came over me. And the blade seemed to
sharpen from swinging it around.” She knew she was blushing
cause
her face heated up like sunburned skin.

Ethan reached out and lifted her chin. “It’s okay. Maybe we
should work on you learning to use it in a more controlled environment.”

She nodded furiously. It scared her a little bit at this
point. Ethan pushed a tendril of hair back off her forehead.

Another complication, “I got your blood all over my hands.”

Ethan winced whether from the problem of her accidently
completing the blood exchange step of the bonding or from Izzy’s probing in his
wound.

“Sorry, deep place there.”
Izzy
 
apologized
.

Wren still didn’t have the proof she wanted to verify their
story but all of a sudden it just didn’t seem that important anymore. She
realized how insane the events of her morning would sound if she tried to
explain it to someone. Yet they were taking it in stride without question. Of
course that might have something to do with her attacking them with a sword. No
matter, she knew what she needed to do.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Where did you go?”

Caleb took over answering while Ethan gritted his teeth
because of Izzy’s healing influences.

“We went back to our home dimension. We were trying to get
answers. We know there is a prophecy written somewhere about this whole thing.
We just have to find it.”

Somehow Wren knew something more hovered between them. She
caught glimpses of a dark woman.
“The woman?”

Ethan gasped.

“Sorry.” Izzy moved over.
“Just a little
more.”

Caleb grimaced with his brother over more than the less than
gentle doctoring Izzy was handing out.
“Our mother.”
His tone dripped with sarcasm. “--has given us an ultimatum.”

“Oh?” This time it was Izzy who asked the question.

When Caleb hesitated Ethan growled, “Tell them.”

“She’s picked out two obedient wives for us who are most
assuredly loyal to her reign.”

Wren could barely breathe.
“And?”

A huge grin split Caleb’s face. “Felt damn good.”

Tears pooled behind Wren’s eyes and a bolder sized lump
settled in her chest. Just when she’d found someone, with all their pig headed
bossiness, that she loved fighting with as much as fighting for. After nearly
skewering them, of course they’d probably run for home for two proper wives.
Why had they bothered to come back at
all.
Izzy capped
the tube of glue, finished with her unorthodox treatment.

“We basically said if she liked them so much, she should go
fuck them.”

Wren wasn’t sure she’d heard Caleb right.

Ethan grabbed her hand pulling her to his chest. Caleb stepped
in by her inhaling the scent of her hair the way he did that made her tingle
all over.

The steel of Ethan’s arm around her said clearer than words
they never wanted to let her go. “We’ve found our woman and nothing is going to
change that.”

≽
∞
≼

That afternoon Wren
turned the shop over to Izzy and spent the day snuggled in the bed making Caleb
and Ethan rest after their injuries.

They’d swapped life stories. She told them about Gram and
they’d shared some about their growing up. It wasn’t an easy task for the two.
Wren kept asking and pulling out information. She figured they were much better
at solving problems than making connections.

Yet, each gem they shared helped her deepen the growing
feelings she’d developed for them. She’d even accepted that she was interested
in visiting their home dimension, Wrymarach. So exotic and foreign it would be
a grand adventure.

She shared their sadness over their mentor’s failing health.
They would probably not see him again in this life. He’d been a father to the two
men as teens and young adults teaching them much of their place in the world,
as inversely Gram had Wren.

Their interlocking stories with emotions so poignant Wren
considered she’d known their souls forever and hadn’t realized she’d been
searching for them. They were the missing pieces of her life.

Late in the night they’d snacked on cold pizza and she
finally drifted to sleep with the two gently stroking her body. The three of
them slept through till late morning.

The day was relaxed if not a little studious searching for
any clues to help them understand the events they were embroiled in. They did
an exhaustive internet search for information. Who knew there was a private
password protected virtual world for all things
Drakin
living
Earthside
?

The site hadn’t revealed much they didn’t know, other than
the suspicion that the Knights of Druiere’ held a library of writings and books
from Wyrmarach. That led to the guys talking more about their history and
culture.

“The name Wyrmarach comes from the two factions of people.
The Wyrm are those born as dragons
who
shift to
human.” Ethan explained.

Caleb continued. “
Yes,
and the Arach
are those humans who shift to dragon.
Hence the name
WyrmArach.”

“Eventually the capital A was eased and now it’s Wyrmarach.”

“So The Wyrm shifters control the place?”
Wren
asked.

Ethan took another sip of tea as they sat at Wren’s kitchen
table discussing information. “No, on the contrary, the human shifters control
the government. The Wyrm control the Telihedran, the soldiers. There is an
elite group, of that who are Soldar or Solidarian as a group.”

Caleb reached out to curl his finger around a lock of her
hair and push it over her shoulder. “Why would you think the Wrym were the
controlling faction?”

“Their name comes first. I would think the controlling power
would have their name first so, ArachWrym makes better sense to me.”

Caleb shook his head. “Well, that’s not how it is.”

Much of the day went like that as Wren tried to make sense of
the information the guys shared.

Her grandmother had managed to carve out space behind the
shop for a small greenhouse behind a privacy fence enclosed garden. Wren had
added to it with benches and a yard glider as well as an iron and glass picnic
table under a canvas gazebo.

The sun was setting, casting the private garden in a soft
dusky glow. The guys had healed from their injuries amazingly fast. Ethan kept
saying it was only a scratch. But Wren was not too sure. They’d found a leather
scabbard for her blade.

A delivery van pulled up to the back gate. Ethan started
lighting the lanterns hanging around the intimate space.

Caleb handed her a towel to dry her hands anticipating her
question. “My brother ordered food. He refused to feed you more cold pizza for
dinner.” She lived on left over pizza while they were gone and not much else.

Ethan had finished and stood holding a chair to seat Wren at
the table. “We wanted to take you on a proper ‘date’ as is customary in your
human culture.” He had just enough of the bad boy vibe, standing there in those
tight leather pants, almost made her unrepentant about destroying his denims.

She watched as a stylish Asian woman, dressed in a red silk
brocade dress made her way from the delivery van. She greeted them. “Venerable
ones, you bring good fortune and honor to my humble business.”

She clasped her hands together with her fingers pointing
upward, bowed low at the waist and hovering there. Ethan and Caleb returned the
sign of respect bowing lower than their hostess. Wren didn’t know the correct
etiquette so she bowed while sitting in the chair, feeling clumsy.

She became self-conscious of her casual appearance. “I should
have dressed nicer for such a fancy dinner.”

Caleb stroked a finger down her arm leaving a heated trail
under his touch. “You’re being here makes the dinner special, it doesn’t matter
what you wear.”

“Well, yes it does. She scooted back from the table. I’m
going to go put on a dress. I’m not going to remember our first date, with me dressed
in grunge.” She rushed off up the stairs, hoping she could find that little
black dress she used to have in her closet and hope against hope it still fit.

So, it took her fifteen minutes to clean up, dress and dab on
some makeup. She was wielding the mascara wand when she heard Caleb at the door
calling her. She brushed her eyeball instead of her lashes. “Oh Fuck.”

“Wren?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, go on back down,
I’ll
be there in just a second.” She hopped into her shoes while her eye stung and
watered. She cleaned away the worst of the damage with a tissue.

She let herself strut down the stairs just a little, for
effect toward the small group of people waiting at the open gate of the garden.
Life only gave you so many moments like this. Good, the guys ogled her in clear
appreciation.

Ever since the Goddess had given her the sword she’d been
able to tune in on Ethan and Caleb better. What had been an intuition or guess
was now clearer understanding of what they were saying in their thoughts. She
wished she had the skill they guys did. It seemed so easy to them.

At least she could hear what they described as public
thoughts. Sometimes they heard her but it was unpredictable and often
inconvenient as they listened in on what she least wanted them to hear. She
appreciated their patience and the easy way they worked at teaching her.

Can you guys hear me,
testing one, two,
three
?

Just think the words
for now, concentrating on me and I will hear you. It is a bond which
strengthens.

Ethan introduced her. “Mai Song. We present our Jaita’me,
Cathwren.”

Wren didn’t know what the word he’d called her meant. She
remembered hearing it from Caleb earlier, used like an endearment yet now they
pronounced it like a title.

She concentrated hard on Caleb thinking her words slow and
careful.
You’ve called me that before.
What does that word, Jait whatever, mean?

Caleb thoughts touched her mind with sensual whispers of
feeling communicating their pride and pleasure in finding her.
The word is difficult to translate.

“Does it mean we’re
dating or something?”

“Or
something.”
Came
his cryptic reply
.

The older woman smiled at their pronouncement, clapping her
palms together. “I give thanks to the sacred ancestors for allowing me to live
and be witness of this day. Here sit, sit. I am honored to serve the Mane’tung
and their chosen Jaita’me a feast.”

Ah ha, yes, definitely more than dating.

An elegant gentleman exited the truck with a large white box.
He set it on the table by them opening it to reveal a beautiful green silk robe
embroidered with threads of gold, black, and red. He held it for her. She stood
and slid her arms into the sheer soft fabric.

He picked up the box and disappeared back to the truck. Wren
slid the garment around her shoulders like a wrap for the sexy black number.
She smoothed her fingers along the lapel, touching the intricate threads
feeling the opulence engulf her.