Treoir Dragon Chronicles of the Belador World: Book 2 Page 2

  She’d swung that sword with the fury of female warriors from his time.

  The minute he’d been distracted killing the demons, she’d slipped away.

  Why?

  He hadn’t threatened her.

  Ruadh made a sound he took as a snort. You scared woman.

  Maybe he had.

  Regret washed through Daegan, because he had intimidated her about Cavan. She’d met with the mysterious being in the village not far from the ancestral research centre where she worked.

  Who the devil could that Cavan be?

  Why had he captured Tristan?

  Without Luigsech, Daegan had no way to find Cavan.

  He needed Cavan to get Tristan back. First, he had to track down the Luigsech woman.

  What a mess. He’d come here to find a grimoire to protect all of his people the glowing-yellow Imortiks threatened. More pressing even than that? He had just two days left to save one of his Beladors back in Atlanta from execution by Sen and a Tribunal. Both would face Daegan’s red dragon if they killed Devon.

  But retribution would not bring Devon back.

  He had no time for regret. His honor drove him to take care with any woman, but he’d be damned if he’d lose even one follower. When in battle, succeeding to protect his people came first. When Daegan found the Luigsech woman this time, he wouldn’t allow her to escape so easily again.

  No dancing around when it came to answering his questions either.

  She would give him the information he needed and tell him how to find Cavan.

  After one more thorough search of the cottage, Daegan limped back to the main room, favoring the leg an Imortik had clawed. His leg ached and his head throbbed just like he’d experienced after the first Imortik attack in Atlanta.

  Those bastards shoved venom into him.

  How long before he ended up with two much venom to overcome?

  Having been a druid in the Treoir realm for many centuries, Garwyli had warned Daegan the rift in the hidden death wall imprisoning Imortiks would crack in other areas of the world. When new cracks occurred, Imortiks that escaped would be drawn to the venom still inside his body.

  Daegan tested his power. He teleported the two bodies, along with the disembodied heads, heartened to see them reappear on the ground outside when he stepped from the cottage.

  Pointing his finger at the bodies, he called up his dragon fire. Flames burst across the cadavers. Their nasty odor of sulfur and burned skin rose with the smoke as the corpses sizzled in the fire.

  To clear his head of that smell and try to find Luigsech at the same time, he teleported around the area surrounding the cottage. He made a wider circle each time until he’d reached a mile out in all directions.

  Every time he teleported, it took him longer to reappear.

  More frustrated than before with no result, he returned to the cottage.

  Tristan’s last telepathic words to Daegan haunted him. His second-in-command seemed to have only an instant to shout that Cavan had him. But recalling the sound of Tristan’s agony gripped his heart and twisted his insides into a mangled mess.

  Daegan’s dragon rumbled, angry and ready to break free to hunt Tristan. His dragon had accepted Tristan’s gryphon flying with them and recognized the young man’s loyalty.

  He had to calm his dragon. I want to find our friend, too, Ruadh. When we do, the one who kidnapped him will pay. Until then, we must focus on huntin’ the Luigsech woman.

  The silence that answered burned his chest.

  There had been a time when Daegan would have known who had captured his people. A time when he would have shifted into his dragon form and flown to the enemy’s hold. Just the sight of the feared red dragon of Treoir bearing down on a castle would have been enough to hand over any captives.

  Daegan ran his hand over his hair, gripping his head.

  One day, his enemies today would know the penalty of touching his people. One day, the red dragon would be enough to hold peace again.

  He could do nothing about finding the grimoire volumes or locating Cavan without that woman. Night had dragged into early morning with his circular search around the cottage. Daegan had no choice but to teleport to the ancestral research centre and watch for Cavan, who was to meet Luigsech there this morning, according to her.

  With a last look at the house, Daegan flicked a finger to shut the door. Then he teleported to the village in County Galway, a small place on the outskirts of the larger city. He returned to the very spot he and Tristan had teleported to less than a day ago.

  With daylight approaching, no one stirred as yet in the quaint community. Daegan cloaked himself and settled in where he could observe the ancestral centre.

  Swinging his gaze down the narrow street bordered by attractive buildings, Daegan recalled Tristan’s first question upon arrival and smiled.

  “Are these buildings really old, boss? Like 1500s?”

  Daegan had chuckled at him. “1500s ’tis not old.”

  Where was his friend?

  By the time daylight broke, Daegan noted how the villagers smiled and chatted with one another. It reminded him of the people who had lived on his father’s land. He longed to see their faces again, to remember a happier time.

  The sound of someone knocking on the door of the ancestral centre pulled Daegan from his musings. Sunshine slowly burned away the early-morning mist and shadows began to lighten.

  A boy of thirteen or fourteen stood there. He carried an armful of newspapers and knocked again. “Miss Fenella? Hello, Miss Fenella?”

  Appearing confused, he stood there another minute then left a rolled-up paper beside the door and continued down the street. His next stop was the grocery building where Daegan had observed Cavan talking to Luigsech yesterday.

  That boy had expected a woman named Fenella to be at the ancestral research centre this morning. That must be the woman Daegan and Tristan observed yesterday, too, who left not long after Luigsech showed up.

  Daegan called telepathically to Tristan again. Tristan, say anythin’, any sound, to let me know ya live. Once again, his words met with the same disappointing result.

  Silence.

  At separate times, two shopkeepers from nearby stores knocked on the door of the ancestral centre. Both also called out to Fenella. The female shopkeeper walked away, muttering, “Don’t be blamin’ me when ya don’t get yer hot turnover this mornin’.”

  She must be the one baking up heavenly smells nearby.

  Unease crawled up Daegan’s neck.

  Had Luigsech met with Cavan somewhere else?

  If so, why wasn’t Fenella here?

  Daegan stood from where he’d leaned against a tree, still cloaked to prevent from being seen. He called telepathically to his Belador Maistir over North America. I need your help, Quinn.

  Yes, Daegan. Where are you?

  County Galway in Ireland.

  What do you need me to do?

  Daegan explained, ’Tis close to daylight here. Tristan and I arrived yesterday. We observed a bein’ who calls himself Cavan, but he wore a glamour. Tristan and I split up. He followed Cavan and I followed the Luigsech woman we had been watchin’ who works at an ancestral research centre. Cavan captured Tristan. When Tristan called to me telepathically, all I heard was that he had been captured and what sounded as if he tried to tell me the identity of Cavan.

  Then we may know this Cavan? Quinn asked.

  I feel ’tis a strong possibility.

  What else can you tell me about him, Daegan?

  Not much. Daegan explained how he and Tristan had followed Luigsech when she left work and her encounter with Cavan, who cloaked their conversation as well as his identity.

  Quinn grumbled, We definitely need more. What can I do right now?

  First, how are things in Atlanta?

  Humans are frantic over monsters in the city. Fights have broken out at UnVeilCon, because they mistook someone in costume as one of us. Law enforcement has been handling t
hose situations. Quinn paused and made a sound like a sigh. Three more Beladors have disappeared, but the Medb have also lost five warlocks and witches. If this is due to Imortiks, which we have to assume as much until finding out differently, it appears they are not just hunting Beladors.

  Every time Daegan lost even one Belador or those who allied with him, it felt as if a piece of his soul had been chewed away. But he had to keep moving forward. He could do no more back in Atlanta than Quinn or the rest of his Beladors.

  At the moment, Daegan needed his Maistir here more than there. First thing, Quinn, I need ya to assign someone to take your place as Maistir until ya return, and for that person to coordinate the teams with Trey.

  Quinn sounded ready with a plan. I say we put Evalle in that position. She’ll have Storm and Adrianna as backup.

  Good thinking, Daegan agreed. He paused as someone walked up to the ancestral centre, but they didn’t stop. Next, I would like for ya to bring Reese here, but only if she comes voluntarily. She might be able to help me by usin’ her remote viewin’ gift. If askin’ her is a problem, say so now. I will not think less of ya for your honesty, Quinn.

  After a short silence, Quinn said, It’s her choice. I would not make that decision for her, nor would she allow me. I need an hour or so to locate Reese and my daughter, Phoedra, then make arrangements. I’d like to send Phoedra to Treoir where she’ll be safe while we’re both gone.

  Daegan walked around to loosen his stiff joints. Of course. Your daughter is welcome to shelter in Treoir as well as any others ya feel are vulnerable.

  Thank you. I would also like to send my cousin, Lanna, to be with Phoedra.

  Daegan had no issue with that and agreed with his thinking. Quinn would be more at ease here with the young ladies safe from any supernatural threat. Brina will be happy for the company of them both.

  Quinn’s voice picked up energy. Excellent. Once I have Evalle and our Beladors set, I’ll send Phoedra and Lanna on their way, then I’ll let you know when I’m ready to teleport with Reese.

  Daegan suddenly recalled Reese becoming ill last time when she used her gift to track a bounty hunter as they hunted Evalle’s kidnappers. Either that had made her sick or some other reason. Guilt pushed at him once he’d remembered the incident. He added, Please make sure Reese knows I will understand if she does not wish to do this after her physical reaction last time.

  Quinn replied, She might say no if only I asked her, but I seriously doubt she will refuse a request from you.

  When Quinn's presence disappeared out of Daegan’s mind, he felt his first flicker of hope.

  Reese had an unusual ability of visual projection, which had allowed them to track someone if Reese could sit in the last spot where that person had sat, stood, or fallen.

  The Luigsech woman only thought she’d escaped.

  Chapter 3

  “No, no, no,” Casidhe moaned, rushing down the last part of the hill to Fenella’s farmhouse.

  Fenella had to be here.

  But every time Casidhe searched the darkness for a light inside, she saw none. The white farmhouse with a red door and red shutters remained dark, the outside lit only by a dusting of moonlight.

  Nothing made a sound.

  Casidhe kept staring at that front window, trying to will a glow to be there.

  Fenella left the fixture over her sink on every night, refusing to go to bed until she changed a bulb if it had burned out.

  Squinting, Casidhe could make out cows bedded down in the pasture. Chickens were free to roam during the day, but they normally returned to the roost at night. She couldn’t see or hear any goats, baby or otherwise.

  Fenella would have still been up feeding the kids.

  “Maybe she didn’t get the goats tonight,” Casidhe told herself in a whisper. Talking made her feel not so alone with her fears. “Maybe she’s asleep.”

  Fenella tended to be an early-to-bed, early-to-rise person, but what about the missing light over the sink?

  Stepping on the short path of flat stones leading to the front door, Casidhe knocked firmly.

  No answer.

  Every new confirmation of Fenella being absent drove her pulse higher. Casidhe rushed around the left side of the house. At the window to the bedroom, she tapped on it, softly calling, “Fenella?”

  She slapped the glass hard enough to wake the dead. “Fenella!”

  No freaking sound inside.

  Heading back around the front of the house, her heart kept tumbling with fear. Denial drove her to continue to the right side of the house, checking every window on her way.

  No one inside. This path led her to the barn. She skidded to a stop. Where was Fenella’s beloved truck?

  No truck parked by the barn.

  No light in the kitchen.

  No Fenella.

  Casidhe considered other possibilities. Fenella hated to drive after sunset. What could have happened?

  Maybe the truck had broken down.

  Fenella would have walked home or to the goat farmer’s house for help, depending on the shortest distance. She would not stay at the goat farmer’s place. Old man Peadar would have given her a ride home. Or she’d have flagged down someone.

  Everything pointed to Fenella having had plenty of time to reach her farm by now.

  More than all of that, she would have called Casidhe to come help her.

  What now?

  Casidhe had a choice between heading for the goat farm to look for Fenella’s truck along the way or going in the opposite direction toward the ancestral research centre.

  If she reached the farm and did not find Fenella, she would have gambled and lost. She might make it back to the centre in time, depending on how long it took to reach Peadar’s farm, a far more demanding route.

  Cavan expected Casidhe to be at the centre by ten in the morning.

  She didn’t have a watch.

  Her mobile phone kept better time since she didn’t have to wind it. Based on how long it had taken her to run here and that the centre was another nineteen kilometers farther back the way she’d just come, it would probably require the same time to reach the village as Peadar’s place.

  That was based upon her not being physically spent. Factoring all that in, she might need closer to eight hours to cover that distance.

  Even that amount of time could run her too late.

  And estimating eight hours tops would be only if she struck out in a straight path to the centre without following the flatter winding roads.

  Squatting, she placed the sword on the soft grass and rubbed the heels of her hands over her eyes.

  What if she chose the wrong direction and something bad happened to Fenella?

  One possibility after another assaulted her. She grabbed her head to quiet her mind and make a decision.

  When she managed to focus, Herrick’s words came to her from the times they’d trained together. She’d once asked him how to make the best decision on the fly.

  He’d given her question serious thought and replied, “If only one action will result in an absolute outcome, choose that one.”

  She dropped her hands and stared into the darkness.

  Choose the action with an absolute outcome.

  She knew what to do.

  If she failed to arrive in time to meet Cavan, she’d guarantee Fenella being harmed. Getting to the centre early would provide Casidhe a way to call Fenella’s phone and Peadar’s goat farm.

  Standing up, she hoped with all her heart the time right now was closer to one in the morning than two. She turned in the direction of the village and begged her limbs for more endurance tonight.

  She told herself, Just put one foot in front of the other and do it again. Once her stiff muscles loosened up again, she’d break into a jog.

  How had her life blown up in less than a day?

  This would be a great time for Herrick to have a satellite phone. No matter how she tried, she’d never be able to drag a dragon shifter as old as H
errick into the new millennium. He had no form of electronic communication where he and a small group lived in the Caucasus mountain range, which ran between Asia and Europe.

  Contacting him quickly would not be possible and she couldn’t entertain the idea of another trip to visit the family. Not after that last debacle.

  More importantly, she would not risk leading the stranger from her cottage, or Cavan, to Herrick.

  What if the intruder found her phone amid the destruction in her cottage?

  Casidhe slapped a hand against her forehead. He’d have access to Fenella if he knew how to crack into the mobile phone.

  After considering that likelihood, she rolled her eyes and kept walking.

  Nothing about Tall, Dark, and Demanding had left her with any impression of being a techie.

  If he was, she could do nothing about it right now.

  He’d had muscles on muscles, and moved fluidly when he fought, but his speech reminded her of talking to people living at Herrick’s castle. In retrospect, she could admit she found the stranger attractive, in a primitive and annoying way. His face had sharp planes and a nicely-shaped nose, though a bit crooked. Those gray eyes had hid his emotions until an invisible switch flipped him from conversational to furious upon discovering Cavan had captured his friend.

  How had he learned of the capture right then?

  Why would Cavan take the intruder’s sidekick?

  What did all these people have in common?

  Her.

  No, not her. Maybe the Treoirs.

  Cavan had asked about the Treoirs during a first trip to the centre, before he returned to deliver a book on dark druids he’d given to Fenella for Casidhe to read. When Cavan surprised Casidhe at the grocery and grabbed her arm, his power had felt old, very old.

  The intruder had argued about the red dragon seen in public being a fake and asked what she knew about the Treoirs.

  Could he possibly know the red dragon shifter?

  Was he the red dragon shifter?

  She gave that serious consideration for all of two steps then snorted at that thought.