Dragon Bound

NINETEEN

A half hour had passed since Dragos had lost the connection with Pia through the tracking spell. Then he and his sentinels arrived at the junction of Highway 17 and Averill Avenue. They found police cars, an ambulance and a fire truck surrounding a black Dodge Ram pickup. He sent Tiago, Rune and Grym winging southeast into the Harriman State Park to look for a gray Lexus.

At almost forty seven thousand acres in size, the park was the second largest in New York and had over thirty lakes and a couple hundred miles of hiking trails. It also had a passageway to a large area of Other land.

Still shielding their presence from human sight, Dragos arrowed to the ground, followed by Graydon, Bayne and Constantine. After shifting, he raced toward the emergency response vehicles, flanked by the gryphons.

Graydon walked up to a policewoman and introduced himself. “What happened?”

“There was a shooting,” said the woman, glancing from Dragos to the gryphons with wide eyes. “The victim’s a middle-aged guy who was gunned down in the street. Couple kids found him—”

Dragos ignored the rest. He strode past the truck. There was one pool of blood. Bayne stopped to inspect the spot. The ambulance doors were open. He looked inside. Two EMTs were working over a man.

“He conscious?” he asked one of the EMTs.

“You can’t be here right now,” said the man, without looking up.

He reached inside, grabbed the man and threw him out of the ambulance. He said to the other EMT, “This man conscious?”

He nodded, eyes wide. “We’re working to stabilize him. We’ve got to get him to the hospital.”

Dragos climbed in and crouched by the stretcher. The victim’s eyes were glazed with shock. Dragos pulled the oxygen mask down. He demanded, “Was she alive when they took her?”

The man’s mouth worked. He was panting in short, shallow breaths and his color wasn’t good. “What . . .”

Dragos leaned closer. “The woman who was kidnapped. Was she alive when they took her?”

“Y-yes, I think so . . .” managed the man between gasps. “Shot her . . . shot her—”

The EMT’s hand came over his to take hold of the oxygen mask and ease it back into place. “Please,” he said to Dragos. “He’s already arrested once. You’ve got to go.”

Constantine released the EMT he had evicted as he climbed out of the ambulance. He stood, face white and hands clenched, as Graydon and Bayne jogged over. He said through white lips, “He thinks she was alive. He said they shot her.”

“Ah shit,” said Graydon as he blanched.

Constantine gripped Dragos’s arm hard. “Don’t go making her all dead in your head,” he said. “Remember, they drugged and kidnapped her the first time—they didn’t kill her. They want her alive.”

“You’re right,” he said. He looked at them, his eyes bloodshot. For the first time he managed to articulate what she had told him earlier. “She’s pregnant. Urien has my pregnant mate.”

The gryphons stared at him in equal measures of horror and dismay.

Then Tiago said, We found the Lexus. They crossed over in here.

Galvanized, the four raced away from the human scene and took to the air to join the others. Good news: the Lexus didn’t have any traces of blood. The constriction in his chest eased. He started to breathe again.

They located the passageway and crossed over to the Other land. Dragos had hoped against hope, but the tracking spell laid on her braid didn’t survive the disconnect and crossover. They would have to track her and her kidnappers by land.

Good thing they had one of the best trackers of any species on their side. Tiago loped across the ground in wide arcs, studying the ground, until he took off running in one direction. Rune and Graydon scouted farther afield while the others kept to the ground with Tiago.

Dragos kept to the air, shielding his presence as he scouted in circles, projecting ahead of Tiago’s trajectory.

Death was another good friend of his and flew in his shadow.

Pia had no idea where she was or where she was going. Story of her life, apparently. She had one goal: to run as far away from Urien as fast as she could get. She hoped he didn’t have any of those dragonfly thingies with him. If it came down to a ground race, she had a good fighting chance.

The rolling countryside was carpeted with thick clusters of forest and open areas carpeted with riotous profusions of wildflowers. She paused at the edge of a wood and ran her gaze quickly over the scene behind her. No sight or sound of pursuit.

Gold and purple and scarlet dusted the emerald green field she had just traversed. Her gaze landed on a brilliant purple flower with fluted petals like a lily as it spat out a long, feathery, stamenlike stalk, whip fast, and it caught a buzzing insect on the sticky end, which then retracted into the flower with its prey.

She recoiled. Let’s not consider that a metaphor for anything.

She slung the crossbow on her back and plunged into a forested area for ground cover. She avoided anything that looked like a path. If she managed to get far enough away, she would start thinking about how to hide her trail better, but right now she didn’t have time to consider finesse.

A light rain started to patter in the treetops, the occasional drop making it far enough to land on her. Maybe she’d get lucky and it would start to pour. A heavy rain would help to dissipate her scent.

The newly released Wyr in her was eager to stretch out her legs and dig into a hard run, but Pia’s human mind couldn’t help but be frustrated. Six months from now she would have had a chance to practice many of the tricks her mother had tried to teach her about how to obscure her path from pursuers. As it was, she didn’t dare try to tap into her Power in case she made a mistake and gave away her position.

She got maybe fifteen minutes of peace and quiet. Then Urien hissed in her head, You have just made a very bad mistake, Pia Giovanni. What I did to your boyfriend is nothing compared to what I will do to you when I catch you.

Snot, snot. Threat, threat.

The lunatic inhabiting her body said to the Fae King, I can beat any pace you set, asshole. Catch me if you can.

Okay, let’s face it. It wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done. But she had so had it up to here with mean people today.

The rain started to come down harder. She ran faster.

Her awareness narrowed to what was around her, watching for obstacles, plotting her course ahead through the trees, and working to keep her footing on ground that became increasingly slippery. Soon she was soaked to the skin. The forest grew more shadowy and treacherous.

Then she saw a break in the trees ahead. She managed to skid to a stop before she went tumbling head over heels down a rocky incline.

Oh, that’s not so good. Ahead of her stretched a very large expanse of rolling meadow. It wasn’t the size of the plain where she and Dragos had been trapped, but it was still far too large and exposed for her liking.

She bit her lip and tried to think. Couldn’t go back. Shouldn’t go to either side. Urien would spread his men out as they pursued her. Damn. Nothing to do but go forward. Maybe she could get to the other side before she was seen.

She bounded down the incline, hit the bottom and sprinted with everything she had.

Pia, Dragos said.

She stepped into some kind of animal hole and went down. Pain lanced up her leg. She clutched it and rocked. Dragos! Damn it.

She thought she heard him say, Thank you, gods. Then he demanded more loudly, Where are you?

Well, I don’t know that, do I? she snapped. I got drugged again and carted off to one of Urien’s vacation homes. Then I escaped, and now he’s chasing me, and I just stepped into some damn gopher or rabbit hole. Damn, DAMN, damnedy damn it—

Did you break anything?

I don’t know. She bit her lip and with a gigantic effort flexed her ankle. The pain was a railroad spike shooting up her leg.

Can you run?

I don’t know! She pushed to her feet and tried to put her weight on the ankle.

Describe where you are, he demanded.

She pushed her hair out of her eyes, looked around and told him what she saw. The ankle protested but bore her weight. Barely. She lurched into a limping run, but her former speed was gone.

Hey, big guy, she said, gritting her teeth against the pain. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you came or how good it is to hear your voice.

How glad you are that I came, he said in a flat voice. What the hell does that mean?

What do you think it means! she snapped. Forget it. I can’t talk right now. This is too hard.

She tried to push harder, to eke out a little more speed, but there wasn’t any more to be had. Jagged splinters of pain shot up her leg with every step. If she were a horse, she would have herself put down.

She wasn’t going to make it.

She put her hands on her hips, caught her breath and walked. The rain felt good, nice and cool on her overwarm body. She was about halfway across the meadow when a sense of malevolence made her turn around. She looked back to the tree line from which she had just come.

Urien and his men, mounted on horses, stood staring down at her.

She had passed the in-for-a-penny-in-for-a-pound road sign a long time ago. Hell, she was cruising the neighborhood streets of tonnage by now. Limping backward, she raised her middle finger to the Fae King.

Their horses plunged down the incline. With a casualness that spoke of contempt, he and his men trotted toward her.

She pulled the crossbow from her back. As soon as they were in range for her, she would be in range for them. She must stand out against the twilight like a lighthouse. She tore off her white T-shirt and tossed it aside, then turned her body to present less of a target.

I’m so sorry, peanut.

She located Urien in the crossbow telescope. The bastard had started a nasty smile. He kicked to a canter. She shot just as a blow slammed into her.

It knocked her down.

She lay sprawled on her back and blinked up at the rain that felt so good, so maybe she was the only one on the ground who saw the dragon plummet, screaming, out of the sky.

Forelegs extended, talons spread, wicked teeth bared, Dragos snatched Urien from the back of his horse. He pumped his wings to rise in the air above the trees; then he threw back his head and roared as he ripped the Fae King apart.

“There’s my bad boy,” she whispered. God, he was breathtaking.

A strange melee played out in the meadow. It was like something out of a nightmare. Gryphons attacked Fae while horses screamed and plunged in terror. She thought she saw a winged, demonic-looking creature rip out the throat of a Fae. There was a huge dark bird that caused thunder with the beat of its massive wings. Lightning flashed out of its eyes, but maybe by that point she was beginning to hallucinate.

Graydon bent over her. “Oh fuck, no,” he whispered. He grabbed for her crumbled shirt and pressed it around the crossbow bolt sticking from her chest. “Hold on, honey.”

She touched his hand. “I’m okay,” she tried to tell him. “Everything’s going to be all right now.”

She didn’t think she managed to get the words out because he wiped his cheek on his shoulder and shouted, “Dragos!”

Then Dragos fell to his knees beside her, and her world turned right again. His face was ashen, his eyes stark. He added pressure to the wound at her chest and laid a hand against her cheek.

“Pia.” He spoke like the words were ripped out of him. “Don’t you dare leave me. I swear to God, I will follow you into hell if I have to and drag you back by the hair.”

One corner of her mouth lifted. She put her hand over his on her cheek. She said, “You say the most god-awful things.”

She was tired so she rested her eyes for a minute.

Afterward she remembered a series of images, like pearls on a string.

She opened her eyes to find that Graydon held her back against his chest, one arm across her shoulders, the other arm clamped low around her waist. They sat in a cage made of talons formed by Dragos’s two front feet. Rune stood over them, looking through the talons. “Hold her just like that,” he said with his face grim. “Don’t let her get jostled.”

“I got her,” Graydon said. “Let’s go.”

They were acting so dramatic, like it was life or death or something. So much for being big tough warriors. They were worse than a bunch of high school girls.

She faded out as Dragos launched.

The next thing she knew Dragos was the one holding her. She could have carried a brimming wineglass and not spilled a drop as he raced up a flight of stairs. “I don’t care!” he roared. “Get any goddamn doctor fast as you can. Steal one from Monroe if you have to. One of you fly to New York and get our Wyr healer!”

She tried to focus her blurry gaze. Is this Urien’s house again? I’m awake, I’m asleep, I’m awake, I’m asleep. I’m in the house, I’m out. Now I’m in again. This is getting ridiculous.

And she faded out.

Then things got really strange.

She was immersed in the dragon’s Power. He had consumed her. With every breath, he worked her lungs. Her heartbeat faltered. The great engine of his heart took over the rhythm. Her Power started to fade, but he had her Name. He demanded she stay in her flesh. She drifted inside him, inextricably woven with his life force.

She thought she heard her mother say, He cannot hold you forever. You may come to me if you wish.

But there was somebody else with them, a bright, tiny, stubborn spark. He was just a new creation, but he already had his own opinions. Dragos held her life to her body, but her son’s Power pulsed inside her.

He was trying to heal her. She roused.

Oh no, sweet baby, she crooned. You’re too small for that.

The peanut begged to differ.

A warm glow of energy suffused her body, so like her mother’s healing Power, so like her own. For one moment everything was shining and well and right. Then, with infinite gentleness, the dragon laid his Power on that tiny spark of life that glowed too bright, too strong, and eased it back until it nestled into place.

Precious baby boy.

Her fingers crept an inch across a sheet. They were grasped by a much larger, more powerful hand that held on to her hard as she fell asleep.