The Golden Dragon

Dragon Bound One

By

Tianna Xander

“Most witches have constructive powers. They manifest useful things like money, the power to do some good in this world or even a tuna sandwich,” April said as she popped the lid back on a plastic container half-full of cedar. “Not me.” She snorted. “So far, the only thing I’ve been able to manifest is a patch of toadstools and poisoned oak.”

She glanced at the other members of her coven. All twelve of her adopted sisters looked on with understanding. If anyone could understand her predicament, it was them.

“I know exactly what you mean.” Tansy stepped forward, her scorched cape still smoldering from her last attempt to cast a spell. “What’s wrong with us?” She spread her arms out as if to encompass them all. “None of us have been able to manifest anything like Mother and Father did.” She bowed her head and lowered her voice as though what she were about to say were somehow sacrilegious. “Do you think it’s because we’re 1

adopted and not their blood kin?”

April shook her head and crossed her arms. “Being adopted has nothing to do with it.” She made her voice sound strong and firm even though she wasn’t sure herself. “It can’t be that.” Seeing her sisters looking so dejected over their failures, she decided what her next words would be, true or not. “If being adopted made any difference, why bother to train us at all?” She shook her head. “No,
we
are doing something wrong. I’m sure of it.”

What that something was, was beyond her comprehension, but she would find out what it was if it was the last thing she ever did. If not for her, she would do it for her sisters and brothers, wherever her brothers were. She hadn’t seen
them
since the unfortunate accident that stole their parents from them. She avoided looking at Rose, the little sister responsible for that horrific event.

“Look at Iris.” She waved toward her little sister whose thick ebony hair escaped her bun with abandon.

“She managed to manifest eggs this morning.”

Iris grimaced. “Yeah. Eight dozen eggs and all of them raw, broken and covering the cheese, ham and English muffins that were supposed to be Eggs 2

Benedict. Some success story.”

“Well, you’re closer than I am.” April scowled at her sister’s lack of enthusiasm. “I tried to conjure up mushrooms to go with the omelets we made out of all those eggs and got toadstools instead.” But they knew that. They had all raided her pantry after that. Now it was as empty as her refrigerator.

April paced back and forth in front of her sisters, her wand in her hand. As she passed, each flinched as the tip of her wand pointed at them in turn. “Stop flinching or I’ll turn all of you into Goddess knows what!”

As mad as she was about their reactions and this morning’s debacle with the eggs and toadstools, she just might lose her temper and do something unforgivable—

what, she had no idea. Man, it sucked not having control over her powers. Their parents had made it look so easy.

April glanced around at her sisters’ dejected faces and took comfort in the fact that at least, in this, she wasn’t alone.

She wrapped the cedar shavings in the paper they used to make their smudge sticks, then lit it. Smoke rose as the comforting scent of burning cedar filled the room.

It was always good to cleanse the room before and after they tried to manifest things. It not only cleansed the 3

room of their mistakes and the inevitable negativity that followed failure, the scent helped relax and ground them.

“Since this session was an obvious bust…again, we should head home, rest and practice until next month.”

She nodded when Daisy raised her hand. “Yes, Daisy?”

“Do we have to practice? Can’t we just hang up our capes and shove our wands in a box in the back of our underwear drawers and call it good?”

“Is that really what you want?” April heaved a sigh and cast a glance around the room at her sisters’ dejected faces, then shook her head. “If that’s what you want to do.” She shrugged. “Who am I to stop you?”

“You’re the oldest,” Marigold spoke up as she popped a baby carrot in her mouth.

“Where did you get that?” April narrowed her eyes.

They had totally cleaned out her pantry and refrigerator after the egg-toadstool incident. If there were carrots left in her fridge, she would have called dibs on them before any of her sisters got their grubby paws on them, that’s for sure.

Marigold gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I tried for some pears and got carrots instead. I figured I wouldn’t complain since they weren’t poisonous.” She popped 4

another one into her mouth and offered a handful to Daisy who wisely shook her head and waved them away.

That was it. If any one of her sisters made another wise crack about those damned toadstools, she would scream. April glared at her sisters and raised a brow.

“Does anyone else have any smart-aleck remarks?”

April wouldn’t put it past Ivy to say something smart, but Marigold elbowed her and told her to keep her mouth shut.
Smart girl
.

“If that’s all, I say we all go home, get some rest, then practice as usual tomorrow.

And that will give me some time to drive out into the
country and become one with nature. With luck, that will
end my problems.
She waved her hand and everyone ducked when they realized it brandished her wand.

“For crying out loud! Will you guys stop it?”

* * * *

Drake Delfavaro surveyed the deserted alley, his hands on his hips. He didn’t find anything out of the ordinary.

It was an alley with a few dumpsters and empty crates lying about. Water dripped from one of the eaves as 5

what was left of the rain from earlier ran from the roof.

Other than that, it was as silent as it was vacant.

“Did you see it?” The man who passed for his familiar, Martin Baccus, poked his head around the corner.

“No.” He rested his hands on his hips. “I didn’t see a thing. What was I looking for?”

“Toadstools.” Martin waved toward the end of the alley. “A huge pile of them.”

Drake shook his head with disgust. “I can’t believe a grown man would fear fungi.” Was he serious?

“I can’t help it. I’m deathly allergic.” Martin crossed his arms with a shudder. “Besides, they just sprung up from nowhere. What was I supposed to think?”

“I never would have expected you to think we were under attack.” Drake reached down, grabbed an empty crate and turned it over. “I could understand if it was an army of imps, or a clutch of brownies.” He sat on the overturned crate and rested his head in his hands, unable to stop the laugh that escaped. “Toadstools?”

“Well, they’d kill
me
,” Martin mumbled.

Man, he was getting tired of hiring humans and wimpy humans at that. It wasn’t that Martin wasn’t a nice guy. He was. He was also a wimp, plain and simple.

6

It would be lovely if he could find himself a true familiar. It was just too damned bad that the people meant to work with his kind chose to go into hiding hundreds of years ago. He couldn’t say he blamed them.

After all, most of their kind were killed during the dark ages. Nothing good could be said of the Spanish Inquisition or the witch burnings. Those two events killed nearly everyone with whom his people made alliances. Finding a witch these days was like finding a needle in a million haystacks. He would never get that lucky.

“Come on.” He stood and motioned for Martin to follow him. The man may be an idiot, but he was
his
idiot and after paying for the man’s education, he could at least get a few years of work out of him before Martin went totally off the deep end.

Martin started toward him only to stop and point with horror. “There they are again!”

Suddenly, a bunch of toadstools sprung up around Drake. He looked around with surprise. “What the hell?”

They were everywhere. The fungi covered the entire end of the alley where he stood behind an old, rundown used bookstore.

“Killer toadstools!” Martin screamed, then turned 7

and ran toward the road with a gurgle of terror.

Drake couldn’t do anything but stare after him with shock.

“Killer toadstools? You’re kidding me, right?”

The sound of a woman’s sultry voice wrapped around his insides and squeezed. Gods, he hadn’t had a woman affect him this way in centuries. Not since that little witch in Spain showed him her belly-dancing moves. Too bad she met her end during the inquisition.

He may have offered for her had she lived. He never did learn where she learned to dance like that.

“I can’t believe you’re afraid of toadstools.”

He turned to face the owner of that amazing voice, certain his shock was evident on his face. “Pardon me? I never said anything about them.” He jerked his thumb toward the mouth of the alley. “That was Martin, my assistant with the overactive imagination.” He chuckled.

“Apparently, he’s allergic and the appearance of so many toadstools caused him to believe we were under attack.”

The woman merely smiled and raised one perfect brow, her expression bemused. “May I ask who in the world he thought would use toadstools to attack someone?”

8

Drake stared at the charming woman who appeared before him like an apparition. Her glowing, white-blonde hair that gleamed with golden highlights fell in long waves down her back and over her shoulders. Sea-blue eyes pierced him with a look of disbelief. Her full-length deep red cape, tied at the neck, had the hood resting on her shoulders. It fastened at the neck with a golden clasp. The slight opening caused by her full breasts, gave him a peek at the white blouse and dark calf-length skirt she wore beneath it. What held him rapt was the dainty hand at her side holding a wand that appeared to be made of Elder.

Not five minutes ago, he had wished for a witch and now, one stood before him. She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. His stomach clenched at the sound of her voice, the way her laugh tinkled like little bells and her eyes gleamed in the dim light of the moon above.

He shook his head to clear it. He was dreaming there was no other explanation for the apparition in front of him or the magical sound of her laughter.

“He’s certain that one of my enemies has discovered he is allergic to fungi.” Was that his voice? He sounded like an untried youth speaking to his first milkmaid.

9

Drake fought the urge to scowl at himself.

“Do you have many enemies?” She frowned, then bit her lip when she glanced around and obviously realized they were truly alone. “Should I be worried?” she looked frightened now and he lamented the loss of her smile.

“I have my fair share of enemies.” He shrugged.

“Perhaps more than my fair share.” He held up his hand.

“And before you ask, yes, they would probably exploit Martin’s weakness if they knew of it.”

She bit the corner of her lower lip and smiled. “Is this information worth money?”

Drake watched as she surreptitiously pocketed her wand on the side farthest from him. He understood her need to hide what she was. Not many people knew of or appreciated the talents of a good witch.

Instead of commenting on her actions, Drake grinned at her attempt at humor and inclined his head. “Some may pay for this information. However, I would not advise approaching them. They aren’t the kind of people with whom I would keep company.”

She tilted her head to the side, her smile still in place. “And you are?”

“I am Kendrake Delfavaro.” He reached out to take 10

her proffered hand. “I am pleased to meet you…”

The blush that crept up her neck to cover her face was the most charming sight. He was unaware that women still blushed in this day and age. It was refreshing to know they still could.