Daughter Of The Dragon Princess(18)

"Where … " Cole started to say, but Mal melted into the darkness.

Every sense screamed at him to hurry. He followed the first guard,  closing in as the man reached the opposite side of the circle. Sliding  the knife from the sheath at his waist, he crept up behind and sliced  the blade cleanly across the exposed line of the guard's throat. He  clasped the body tight against his chest as the life drained away, then  lowered it gently to the ground. Dragging open the robe, he found a  pistol holstered at the man's waist. Mal pulled it out and tucked it in  the waistband of his pants.

The second guard was almost opposite where Cole crouched. Mal took him  out the same way. He was wiping the knife clean on the robe as Cole came  up beside him. "I told you to wait."

Cole studied the body, the blood still pulsing from the gaping wound.  Then he crouched down and opened the dead man's robe. Underneath he wore  trousers and a shirt, a pistol holstered at his thigh. Cole rifled  through the pockets but came up with nothing. "Do you have any idea who  he is?"

"He's scum."

Mal pulled out the pistol and held it out to Cole. "I take it they do  teach you to use one of these? Even if you're not allowed to carry."

Cole nodded. He checked the gun over. "Am I going to need this?"

"Probably."

Cole shook his head, but took the pistol. "What the hell's going on?"

"We're saving Lily."

"From what?"

"Let's go see."

***

Everything hurt.

Lily's lids were too heavy to lift. She tried to work out where she was,  and how she'd got there. Cool air brushed over her skin, so she guessed  she was outside. Stretched out on her back, the coldness seeped deep  into her bones, the rough surface beneath her digging into her bare  skin.

She had a bad feeling about this. Really fucking bad.

The heavy scent of incense hung in the air, clogging her nostrils,  burning the back of her throat, and all around her, the low chant of a  multitude rose and fell. Beneath that, a muted hum, like a hive of bees,  kept time with the chanting. The noise was familiar, and she struggled  to remember where she'd heard it before.

Fuck. She was back at the standing stones of Taryn Carnack-right where  Mal told her not to go. She was beginning to see his point. And if she  wasn't mistaken, she was lying naked on the altar before the arch. She  tried to rise, but something held her down, pressing her into the cold,  hard stone.

Swallowing her fear, she focused her mind. She wasn't tied in any way,  but held in place by hard hands that dug painfully into the bones of her  wrists and ankles. Her panic spiked. She fought, thrashing from side to  side, but the fingers tightened around her, and she couldn't break  free. Exhausted, she slumped back, lay still, and pried open her eyes.         

     



 

A sickle moon hung high above her. Rolling her head to the side, she  caught sight of the hooded figures holding her down, eyes gleaming  behind the folds of their cowls. Behind them, other shadowy figures  milled in the dim, flickering light, and all the while, the chanting  filled her ears.

Fucking weirdoes.

Normal had never seemed so desirable.

What was the chance this was a nightmare, or some drug-induced  hallucination she would wake from soon? But she knew it was no dream.

What were they planning? Her mind flicked over the possibilities. Mal  had told her they wanted her blood. Ugh! She didn't want to think about  how they were going to get it.

But the thought of Mal brought a glimmer of hope. Mal wouldn't abandon  her, and he'd guessed she was heading for the stones. He would find her,  sooner rather than later, she hoped, because things were not looking  good.

One of the hooded figures glided up to stand by her side.

"Lily," he murmured, lowering the hood. Weyland, the bastard. "Good, I'm  glad you're awake. I'd hate you to miss the highlight of the evening."

The sound of his voice brought the memories flooding back.

Joe.

A sharp jolt of pain stabbed through her, and tears stung her eyes. She  blinked them away. Pushing the pain down, she let her anger rise until  her fingers clawed into the stone, concentrating her mind. "What do you  plan to do with me?"

"Don't worry about that. But I promise you it will be painless."

"Fuck that. Let me go."

He didn't answer and a cold hard lump settled in her belly. This was  madness. She didn't want to die without understanding why. Shit, she  didn't want to die at all. Where the hell was Mal? He was leaving it a  little late. She had to give him more time.

"What's the point of all this?" she asked Weyland. "Come on, you're  going to kill me, you could at least explain why. Don't tell me you  believe all this rubbish about dragons."

A smile curved his lips. "Are you telling me that you don't believe?"

Yeah, she believed. And as she said the words in her head, she closed  the door on her dream of a normal life forever. Hell, any sort of life  would be good right now. She shook her head. "What do you hope to get  from this?"

Wayland's features hardened. "We'll get what the dragons denied us."

"And that is?"

"Immortality."

Okay, one step too far. The whole world had gone crazy, not just her this time.

All around her, the haze of smoke was thickening, the air dense, oily  with whatever they were burning. Bile rose in the back of her throat.  "I'm going to be sick."

Weyland nodded at the men holding her, and they released her ankles and  wrists. She rolled over and came up on all fours retching. Once her  stomach was empty, she knelt panting, unable to get enough air. Raising  her head, she looked at Weyland. "Don't do this."

"We have to-we've waited too long. We want what is owed to us. What was  denied us when we were cast aside by the dragons as worthless dross."

"I don't understand."

"You don't need to. Just know that your blood will give us the power to continue the fight."

He gestured to the men. They took her shoulders, turned her roughly so  her head slammed against the hard rock, and stars flashed before her  eyes. She struggled, but they gripped her wrists and ankles viciously.  The urge to call the fire rose up inside her, but the fumes were fogging  her brain, and she couldn't concentrate.

Mal!

They shifted her so her head hung over the edge of the rock, her hair  streaming down to the grass, the long line of her throat stretched taut.  A knife glinted in Weyland's hand. Lily wanted desperately to close her  eyes, shut out the sight, but she couldn't look away from the long,  gleaming blade poised above her.

Then the world exploded.





Chapter 11





The sound of chanting rose up from inside the circle, and beneath the chant, the hum of the portal throbbed on the night air.

Mal froze as the sound vibrated through him, filling his mind with the  memory of home. He was soaring over the mountains of Ankesh, far above  lakes of fire. Heat soaked through the thick skin of his belly, burning  the fragile membranes under his wings. He climbed higher and higher, and  then plummeted into the flames, breathing in the hot, smoky air,  roaring his pleasure.

He blinked and he was back in the shadows of the great stones, Cole at  his side. The robed figures gathered in a thick knot around the altar  and behind them, the archway rose tall and stark.

Every muscle tensed with the need to move, but he couldn't see Lily.         

     



 

Then something glinted within the circle of men. A gap opened revealing  Lily stretched out naked on the altar. In the flickering torchlight, her  pale skin glimmered. Long red hair flowed behind her like living flame,  reaching to the ground, and the smooth line of her throat lay exposed  to the knife, poised high above her.

Adrenaline surged through his blood.

He leaped forward, left hand extended and blue black tongues of dragon fire shot from his fingertips.

The figure holding the knife exploded into flames, a human torch that  twisted and turned, reeling into the ring of men around him. The circle  broke, and the four men holding Lily leapt back as the burning figure  tore at his robes, his whole body on fire. He rolled on the ground, back  arching, high-pitched screams rending the night. Finally, they faded to  whimpers, and he lay still.

The chanting ceased, but the hum of the portal was louder now, like a swarm of angry bees.

Mal stepped into the stone circle. Deep inside, his dragon stirred, scenting their homeland, and roaring to be free.

It had been so long.

But he had to get to Lily. The sorcerers would have shielded against the  dragon fire as soon as they'd seen their burning companion. He pulled  out the gun as Cole came up beside him, his own gun drawn and side by  side, they moved forward.

The robed figures backed away before them, retreating into the shadows of the tall stones.

"I'm going to get Lily," Mal spoke softly to Cole. "If anybody moves, shoot them."

Lily huddled on the altar stone, hugging her knees to her chest. As he  approached, she blinked up at him, her eyes dazed; they must have  drugged her during the long day. "I knew you'd come," she said.