Dragon Storm (Dawn of the Dragon Queen Book 2) (13 page)

Fiona wiped tears off her face, angry with herself for showing Duncan weakness. “There has to be another way.”

“I’m sorry. There is no other way.” Josef waved a bony hand at Duncan. “You either forgive this man and join with him, or you sentence your child to her death.”

“I cannot live with myself either way,” Fiona cried before racing down the stairs and across the street, needing to put distance between her broken heart and the man she still loved.

* * *

Safina listened intently to the voices that carried from outside, but every word sounded muffled, and she could not tell if her father was among the men. How she longed for her dragon senses once again.

Gabriel stirred beside her, wrapping an arm around Safina’s waist and looking up at her from beneath a mop of messy hair. “That man is your father, the dragonslayer?”

Safina pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Aye, he is.”

Gabriel stretched his arms in their cramped space before sinking back against a pillow. “It did not seem like he wants you dead.”

“He doesn’t.” Safina wondered if her mother had been lying all this time, or if she truly didn’t trust him.

“Good thing.” He coursed a hand down his face before nodding toward his feet. “I doubt I could fight him. My legs are two wet noodles.”

Safina frowned. “What are noodles?”

“It’s a type of food, Safi.”

Safina didn’t know if she was amused or annoyed by his slanted smile, but none of that mattered, for just the mention of food and her stomach growled in angry protest.

She placed a hand over her hollow, aching belly, realizing she hadn’t eaten in three days. “I’m hungry.”

Gabriel draped an arm across his brow and groaned. “I can’t think of eating until the room stops swaying.”

Safina heaved herself from the bed, wrapping a woven blanket around her shoulders. “I need to find food before my gut eats itself.”

* * *

Safina was relieved to find warm tortillas, fried eggs, shredded cheese, and rice on the hearth. She did not know if the repast was meant for her, but she intended to eat it. She piled food on her tortilla, so high she could hardly close it, then sat down and proceeded to stuff it into her mouth. She barely savored the rich flavors, only stopping to guzzle three glasses of juice.

She was surprised to find herself full, and somewhat nauseous, after just one burrito. She leaned back in her chair and belched into her fist, repulsed by the taste of Mexican spices mixed with sea water. Outside, she could hear her mother’s angry voice and wondered what she was saying. It was odd not having the advantage of dragon-touched hearing.

She slowly stood, nearly stumbling over the chair as she pushed it back. The room didn’t rock as much, though it appeared tilted and she had to hold onto the walls as she walked.

Safina was shocked and unnerved to find her estranged sire outside, sitting in a chair beside Señor Cortez. She nervously toyed with her fingers, looking away from her father’s intense, pale gaze. She leaned against the doorframe for support as the room tilted back and forth. A gust of wind blew her hair out of her eyes, reminding her that a tempest was approaching. “Señor Cortez, the hurricane draws near.”

He stopped chewing on the end of his tobacco pipe, looking thoughtfully up at her. “I know, niña. The elements have already foretold of the storm.”

Safina’s heartrate quickened. “Have you warned anyone else?”

Señor Cortez shrugged. “I have warned all my friends and neighbors and the weatherman, Mr. Cline. Only Mrs. Jenkens and her granddaughter believe me. The rest think I’m loco.”

Safina thought of all the people she’d met since she’d arrived in Galveston, and her soul ached for them. What of Abby’s friends? Especially the kind Charlotte Carter and her husband, who were expecting their first child? “Will they perish?”

Señor Cortez’s chest concaved. “Hopefully, they will find their way here before it’s too late. Many will lose their lives tomorrow, and others will be injured. You’ve had a tiring journey. You should be resting, niña. I doubt you will sleep through the storm.”

“I just wanted a word with my father.” Safina cringed. Saying the word “father” aloud sounded foreign and embarrassingly awkward. She didn’t know the man, so he hardly felt like a father to her. Besides, what if he didn’t wish to be called her father?

“Of course.” Señor Cortez set down his pipe and heaved himself out of the rocking chair. “I will go check on Gabriel.”

After the old speaker left, Safina felt even more awkward being alone with her estranged sire, and suddenly she was at a loss for words. The wind was picking up outside, blowing her hair across her face and plastering her gown to her legs. She hugged the blanket tightly to her shoulders, suddenly feeling modest and wishing she had a robe to tie around her.

“Safina, you look ready to fall over.” Her father quickly closed the distance between them and latched onto her elbow, guiding her to Señor Cortez’s rocking chair. “Won’t you sit?”

Safina followed numbly, her feet moving as if she were walking on a cloud. It was so odd this man showed concern, as if he cared for her. Unable to meet his gaze, she toyed with the frayed end of her blanket. “I-I just wanted to thank you for finding us.”

“No need to thank me, lass.” He knelt beside her, tenderly cupping her chin in his hand and forcing her to look into pale eyes that mirrored hers. “A father doesn’t need to be thanked for saving his child.”

She couldn’t help the nervous laughter that erupted from her throat. Her mother had said nearly the same thing to Gabriel, and yet she hardly knew this man. All she knew about him was that he had been the dragonslayer who’d murdered her grandmother and then broken her mother’s heart.

He released her chin, quirking a brow. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re my father, and I don’t even know your name.”

He slowly stood, his mouth tilting in a sideways grin as the breeze ruffled his thick hair. “Duncan. Duncan MacQuoid.”

Safina’s hand flew to her throat as she recalled the surname she’d given Charlotte Carter when pressed for her full name. “MacQuoid? I told the people of Galveston my surname was MacQuoid, but I don’t ever remember Mother mentioning your name.”

His eyes dazzled as his smile widened. “Perhaps it was somewhere in your subconscious. Our hearts are tethered, after all.”

Safina slowly nodded. “I think I remember when I was a child, sensing you whenever you drew near.”

He pulled a chair in front of her, looking intently into her eyes as he lowered himself onto the seat. “I reached out to you, lass. I wanted you to know I loved you. I still do.”

He loves me?

Safina’s limbs shook, and she was grateful for the chair supporting her, for her legs would surely have buckled had she been standing. All this time she’d been hiding from a man who didn’t mean her harm but who loved her? All these years she’d been denied her father’s love and he hers? She wanted to be angry with her mother for keeping them apart, but she reminded herself this man had been a dragonslayer.

“And do you love my mother?” she asked.

He laid a hand across his chest. “With all my heart.”

Safina swallowed the knot in her throat and tried to still her shaking hands by grabbing the sides of the chair. “And you are sorry for killing my grandmother?”

His features hardened. “A decision I’ve regretted every day for five hundred years.”

She dug her nails into the wood. “I’ve spent most of that time trapped in a cocoon beneath the ocean, listening to my mother cry over you.” She paused, trying to push back the rising tide of sorrow. “When we surfaced, I made a vow I would avenge her broken heart.”

His steady stare did not waver. “You have every right to carry out that vow.”

She vehemently shook her head, fighting to speak through a tight throat. “Too many tears have already been shed, and I am ready to bury our past. You know she still loves you?”

He seemed to age ten years before her very eyes. “I wish it were only a matter of love.”

Safina thought of her love for Gabriel and how her world had transformed in just a few short days. She’d gone from alone and frightened to loved and comforted with Gabriel’s tender touch or soft smile. “Love is very powerful. It can heal almost anything.”

He frowned. “Would you stay with Gabriel if he killed your mother?”

Safina did not know how to answer him, for she could never imagine Gabriel harming another living being, let alone her mother. “Gabriel would never kill anyone. He has a gentle soul.

His mouth hitched up in a sideways grin. He was handsome, with an infectious smile and naturally rugged good looks. Safina could see why her mother had fallen in love with him.

“Then you are a very fortunate young woman, and I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.”

Safina decided right then she was going to like her sire, maybe even love him, despite his past sins. She tried to smile back, but a yawn came out instead. The burrito had sunk to her stomach like a sack of stones, and a thick fog shrouded her mind. She wanted to close her eyes when the room started swaying again, but she feared she’d fall asleep outside. “Thank you. I’m so tired, I can barely keep my eyes open.”

He stood, holding a hand down to her. “Go to sleep, lass.”

She let him pull her up, surprised by his strength when he lifted her as if she weighed no more than a feather. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

He held her hand tight. “I want nothing more than to see you again, Safina.”

“Goodnight, Father.” Then Safina took a chance and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before releasing his hand.

She had no idea what had compelled her to kiss him. When she pulled away, she felt his heart being shredded to pieces. She looked up into his eyes, reaching for him. When their fingers entwined, she sensed the chasm in his soul, so deep she had no idea how he’d had the sanity to withstand such profound sorrow and loneliness. And for five hundred years? True, she and Mother had suffered for just as long, but they had suffered together. Her father had had no one.

“Father, I’m so sorry. You are alone no longer,” she cried before burying her face in his chest.

He rocked her in his arms, saying not a word. But in the void of his silence, she understood the yearning in his soul. He sniffled softly, and she knew he was holding back tears. She wondered why he didn’t just let the tears fall. Why he felt the need to be so strong. But the longer he held her, the more she was in awe of his strength, and she knew without a doubt she loved this man who was her father.

D
uncan left his child with a mixture of heaviness and joy in his heart. After all he’d put Safina and her mother through, his child had forgiven him so easily. What a sweet lass she was, her eyes the same as his, but she had her mother’s captivating smile and beautiful hair. He was looking forward to getting to know his daughter. Hopefully, in time, her mother would learn to forgive him as well.

He stopped for repast at the first open tavern, helping himself to three bowls of barley beef stew and bread. He wasted no time with the flirtatious barmaids as he paid his tab and hurried out the door. There was an important matter to be settled.

Duncan found his way back to the brothel easily enough, since most of the streets in Galveston were either lettered or numbered. Though he didn’t care for the establishment’s seedy element, he needed to find Bess, the prostitute who’d saved him, and thank her. More importantly, he wanted to find out the whereabouts of Dr. Straw. It was time Duncan paid that man a visit.

No sooner had the young maid taken his hat and coat, and ushered him into the gilded parlor with burgundy satin walls and velvet drapes, than he heard a blood-curdling scream coming from upstairs. He ran into the hall and raced up the stairs two at a time.

He found himself back in the bedroom where he’d spent the past three days, recovering. His heart caught in his throat when he saw Bess lying on the floor, staring vacantly up at the ceiling, blood pooling from her throat, which was slit from ear to ear.

A young blonde woman, dressed only in a thin shift, was huddled in the corner, sobbing into a pillow.

Duncan had seen gruesome deaths enough times before, but it didn’t make witnessing Bess’s murder any easier. Careful not to step in the blood, he leaned over her, shutting her eyes while murmuring a soft prayer for her soul. The prayer was to no god in particular. After five centuries of roaming the earth, he’d been exposed to many gods and religions. Still he continued to pray, hoping one deity among them would hear his plea.

He walked over to the crying girl. She’d removed the pillow from her face and was staring at him through puffy slits with wide-eyed fascination.

“What happened here?” he asked.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing the black streams of makeup that ran down her face. “I heard Bess scream, but I came too late.” She pointed a shaky finger at the open window. “I saw Dr. Straw escaping.”

Duncan’s gaze traveled to the window, and back to the corner of the room where Bess had kept Dr. Straw’s cane, not surprised to find the weapon missing.

A stout man with peppered hair ran into the room, brandishing a pistol. “Hands where I can see them!” The man waved the gun at Duncan’s chest. “Who are you?” he asked accusingly.

Duncan slowly raised his hands, careful not to make any sudden moves. “Duncan MacQuoid.” He nodded at Bess’s body. “I saved the lass’s life a few nights past, and she saved my life in turn. I am not her killer.” He looked at the girl huddled in the corner. “It was Dr. Straw. She saw him escape through the window.”

The man slowly lowered his gun. “Son of a bitch.”

“And who are you?” Duncan asked.

The man holstered his gun in a belt beneath his jacket. “Colin O’Leary. The doctor owes my boss five hundred dollars. He’s been dodging me for nearly a week.”

Duncan looked at the frightened girl. “Lass, you need to summon the sheriff.” The girl silently nodded and left the room.

O’Leary made the sign of the cross and bowed his head over Bess’s body, mumbling a prayer. He rubbed the grey stubble on his chin. “Let’s hope I find him first. Jail is too good for the likes of him.”