The Scars of Her Dragon (Dragon Guard Series Book 14) (4 page)

Maddox’s brogue was so thick and his voice so soft it took Olive a minute to understand what he was saying. When she finally did, the mad dragon had apparently misunderstood her silence because his attempt at a smile was quickly becoming a scowl. Rushing to make it right, the little dove said, “Oh heavens, I don’t blame him at all. It was horrible to witness second-hand. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for him to be there...to see them...” She swallowed hard and finally whispered, “die.”

“You saw? The whole thing?” Maddox breathed.

She could only nod. The vision of what she’d seen in Kellan’s nightmare was still fresh in her mind. Having to say it out loud only made the flood of loss and anger come rushing back.

“You’re his mate, right?” The mad dragon sounded more surprised than anything then quickly added, “Does he know?”

“Yes dammit, Maddox, he knows. Why the hell do you think he’s sitting on the ledge watching the sea in only a pair of jeans? Now, get a drink and calm down. I can hardly understand a word you’re saying and I grew up with your craziness.”

Rory was frustrated. Hell, they were all frustrated and none more than Olive. She wanted to march right up the side of the mountain and haul her stubborn mate back down by his ear but knew that would only make matters worse. She needed answers. The time had come to stop pussy-footing around and get them.

Turning back to Rory, she said, “I saw Kellan trying to save those little girls and I saw them die. It wasn’t his fault. That was obvious, but the little I know of him, I can see how he would continue blaming himself.”

The Guardsman was nodding and opened his mouth to speak, but Olive held up her index finger and continued. “I want to help him. I
know
I can help him, but first I need more information and you’re going to give it to me.”

“Damn, you Clan of the Sun girls are tough,” Rory chuckled.

“And don’t you forget it, bub,” Claire rubbed her mate’s shoulders while all the other cousins nodded and gave Olive a thumbs up.

“What happened after they died? Who was the sniper? Where did the grenade come from? How did they know you were dragons? What...”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa...” Rory snickered. “How about I just tell you everything we know and if you still have questions when I’m done, you ask them? Deal?”

“Deal,” Olive readily agreed as she sat back against the big soft pillow at the end of the couch and held the ice on her healing bruises.

“We found out later that the sniper and his partner with the grenade were actually hunters working with the enemy. They had somehow gotten hold of the classified information that shifters of all kinds were fighting with the U.N. troops. So in their narrow-minded, bigoted attempt to rid the world of all things paranormal, the bastards pretended to support the opposition in order to get a chance to kill any and all of us that they could.

“The guy Declan took down bragged that they had ‘bagged some baby dragons’ right before my boy broke his neck. We figured they misunderstood Kell’s reasoning for working so hard to save the girls—thought they were little shifters and took them out. To a hunter, killing a full grown shifter is a big deal, but killing a child gets them a commendation from their commanding officer. Those filthy fuckers see it as population control from the ground up. The only thing better is killing one of our mates.”

Rory’s rage at one of their oldest and most heinous enemies grew as he continued. “It took us about a week but we finally tracked down the unit the reaper and the foot soldier came from and found pretty much what we expected...a pack of blood-thirsty idiots with more bullets than sense. Unfortunately, their commander wasn’t around and even after torturing them, no one would say where he was; maybe they didn’t know. One of the weaker guys did finally say the head guy gave the order to shoot. It took some doing, but we finally got a name before they were all dead...Tariq O’Baoill. Turns out ol’ Tariq is a legacy hunter. He’s from one of the families who founded the hunter movement and the SOB has a special kinda hate for all things shifter. He believes his mother was killed by a dragon when he was still a baby. Of course, that’s a total lie. Brann found out that she was shot by her own hubby, Tariq’s dear old dad, for daring to question the old bastard about his mistress. Who, ironically enough, was a shifter spy on assignment to infiltrate the senior O’Baoill’s organization. We looked for her only to find that she was killed right after the late Mrs. O’Baoill. Leaving us with a big box of nothing on the corner of These Guys Fucked Up and They’re Dicks Avenues.”

Shaking his head and looking at Maddox, the youngest O’Reilly brother went on, “It took us months of searching and tons of hours researching, but we finally found the hunter’s underground base of operations in the Middle East. But by the time we got there, the assholes were gone and the place had been cleaned out. Over the years, we’ve followed up other leads but somehow, O’Baoill’s always gone when we get there.

“Max, the King of the Big Cats, you remember him right?” Olive nodded and Rory went on, “He has an extensive network of spies, more than I can imagine or quite frankly, want to know about, and even he hasn’t been able to get anything reliable and if he does, it’s months old. Tariq is good at hiding. Hell, the last decent picture we have of him is from his college graduation and that was at least fifty years ago.”

There was a lull in his explanation and once again Rory was looking at Maddox. But this time, Olive could hear the tell-tale buzz of mindspeak. Too tired to deal with any more secrets and still hurting, the little dove growled, “Just tell me. Truth I can deal with. Secrets make me crazy and do you know what happens when a dove goes crazy?”

Both Guardsmen shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders, looking around the room for help. Olive was happy to see her cousins had her back and gave only blank stares back to Rory and Maddox. Finally, after several seconds of silence, the mad dragon answered, “No, I have no clue.”

The whiskey wasn’t working. His brogue was still thick but this time, it made Olive smile as she said, “The shit hits the fan and the feathers fly.”

The room erupted into laughter as she repeated the same joke she and her cousins had used on more people than she could count over the years. It wasn’t that she wasn’t telling the truth, she was going to kick ass and take names, but this way everyone had a good laugh before she got started.

“You’re gonna be good for our boy, lass.” Maddox laughed before taking another shot of whiskey.

“Yes, she is,” Rory agreed, standing and pulling Claire into his arms.

As the merriment died down, Olive asked, “But seriously, what we’re y’all talking about? I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Nodding his head, Rory finally relinquished what was probably the most important piece of information so far. “Every year Kellan makes the trip back to the desert and visits those three little graves on the anniversary of their deaths.”

She wasn’t surprised, had actually expected it, but what she hadn’t expected was his next statement.

“And that date is in less than two weeks.”

“Well, shit. Guess I better work fast.” Olive smiled then to herself added, “Because there’s no way he’s going without me.”

W
aves crashed against the rocks below with such ferocity that the sea spray wet his toes where Kellan sat on the highest ledge of the mountain that housed his clan’s most sacred place, the Cave of the Ancients. It seemed as though the sea was as conflicted as the Guardsman himself.

Staring at the palms of his hands, a flood of guilt so dense and oppressing it was hard to take his next breath filled his soul. How had neither he nor his dragon recognized the feel of their mate’s tender skin or the sound of her voice as she pleaded for him to let go of her neck.

The nightmares were getting worse. They always did the closer the date came to the anniversaries of
their
deaths, but this time it was different...more intense...harder to escape. Visions had even come to him during the day, blindsiding him while he was training or simply talking to his brethren.

He’d tried to blame it on stress. Thought maybe it was a side effect of their recent trip to Hell or his best friend’s near death experiences or the combination of the two, but that didn’t feel right either. It was something else. Something or someone was triggering his jaunt into the past. He just needed to find it or them and make it stop. Then there was Olive.

It was no secret that finding one’s mate could do wonky things to a man’s—and a dragon’s—brain, but not even that rang true. His little dove was actually the one bright spot in a sea of darkness, guilt, and doubt. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her it had been a forgone conclusion that she was the only person in all the world with the ability to bring him to his knees and heal his fractured psyche.

There was light from within her that drew him like a moth to a flame. She was beauty personified and the simple, joyful sound of her laughter lifted his weary soul as nothing ever had. The scarred dragon longed to see if her white blonde curls were as soft as they appeared on so many occasions that his fingers tingled with his need to feel them.

Looking deep into her hypnotic hazel eyes while they made love had fueled every single one of his fantasies from the moment he’d known of her existence. He’d repeatedly told himself and his dragon that they’d only just met, to be patient, that their time would come.

His mate was a testament to everything feminine and beautiful in the universe. Being almost a foot shorter than him meant she would fit perfectly in his arms. Her curvy body, full breasts, and round bottom made his mouth water with the need to taste every delectable inch. And the steel resolve and incredible strength he felt emanating from within her was the icing on the cake that made her simply irresistible. The Universe did not make mistakes. Olive Featherstone was most definitely the woman Kellen Aherne was meant to spend forever alongside.

And I tried to kill her...

Slapping his hands against the jagged rocks, the scent of his own blood filled the air. Over and over he beat flesh against stone, trying to replace his emotional torture with physical pain. Praying for a respite from the shame spiral he couldn’t escape.

Switching to his fists, Kellan counted the strikes, each punctuating a defining moment

from the past where he’d failed. One...the loss of his family to hunters. Two...the death of three innocent girls. Three...his failure to command his Force. Four...his relinquished duties to his best friend. Five...Rory’s almost death, not once, but twice. Six...his hands around Olive’s neck.

Over and over he recited the list. Louder and louder his failures echoed through his mind until the Guardsman was screaming them into the dark, turbulent clouds overhead. Dragon roared with man, both entities experiencing soul-crushing devastation. Their symphony of pain continued, swelling to it’s inevitable climax as lightning streaked the sky and thunder shook the ground.

The thought of hurling himself over the edge crossed his mind but was quickly erased. Not only was it against all he believed in to waste the life the Universe had seen fit to bless him with, but there was also the fact that his dragon would never let it happen. The beast would simply burst forth and save them both.

“And I’d kick your ass,”
Lenn’s voice cut through Kellan’s pity party.

Surprised that his mental blocks had slipped during his tirade, the scarred dragon simply replied,
“You’d try.”

“Whatever it takes.”
Then out loud as he walked into view, the mad bomber added, “What’s up, asshole?”

“Nothing much, dickhead. What’s up with you?” Kellan knew Lennox had come to keep him from doing something stupid, or maybe more appropriately, even more stupid, but the fact that one of his oldest friends had come all the way up the side of the mountain in the middle of the night was a comfort.

Now that he realized his mental blocks were open, the scarred Guardsman could feel his other brethren’s concern and Maddox’s blustering about. Looking a little deeper, he felt Olive and how worried she was about him.

About me? She’s the one with marks on her neck...bruises I put there...

“Yeah, there’s just no explaining some people’s taste,” Lenn snickered.

“Get outta my head, jerk,” Kellan growled, rather unconvincingly.

“Try keeping your thoughts to yourself. You were doing a damn fine job of it a minute ago.” The mad bomber sat down beside him and looked down at the water.

“Yeah...yeah, I was,” the scarred dragon mumbled.

“And...?”

“And well, it all got away from me.” Sighing heavily, he asked, “Better now?”

“Much. So you wanna tell me what’s been going on?”

“Wish I knew.” Stopping to look at his battered hands, he shook his head at his own stupidity and then continued, “I mean, it’s the same shit as every year since... well, you know... but this time something is different... worse... changed, hell, I don’t know. I can’t push it away or even tone it down. It’s like I’m back there, like it just happened but somehow different, too. I get the feeling someone or some
thing
is trying to get a message to me.”

Kellan’s words hung in the air as he could feel his brethren deep in thought next to him. Several long minutes later, Lennox asked, “Bear with me. I have an idea but I need to know a few things first.’

Kellan nodded, wondering what harebrained new age crap Lenn had been reading about now when his friend asked, “Are the memories exactly as they’ve always been? No variations? No deletions? No additions?”

It sucked having to actively relive the nightmares that plagued his very existence, but if there was a chance it would give him answers, Kellan was willing to try just about anything. Thinking back through the visions from just a few hours ago, he was surprised to find a few inconsistencies from before that had previously gone unnoticed.

“No, they’re not the same. I can hear the reaper getting his kill orders and I can see the face on the guy throwing the grenade, but it’s not really him. It’s that stupid pompous photo of Tariq that Brann pulled from O’Baoill’s college website. I hadn’t noticed until just now, until you made me go back over it.”