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The Dragon of Sedona (The Treasure of Paragon Book 4) Page 6
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Avery wrinkled her nose. “Raven takes her privacy seriously. If she hasn’t shared her number with you or my father, I am not the right person to ask for it.” She turned to her father. “Dad, are you sure you don’t want me to go? It seems like the person you really want here is Raven.”
“Of course we want you to stay.” He shook his head groggily like he was just waking up.
Aborella forced her shoulders to relax and composed her face again into a jovial expression. “Avery, you’ll have to excuse me. I didn’t mean to push, and your father and I are so happy to have you here. We simply have some news we wanted to share with the two of you, and we are frustrated we’ve had to wait this long to do it.”
“What’s the big news?”
Aborella tucked in her chin and looked at David through her lashes. “Should we tell her? It seems if we wait for Raven, we will be old and gray before the news gets out.” She chuckled lightly at the thought. She would never be old and gray. The thought was ridiculous.
David did his duty like a good little compelled human. He lifted his chin and said, “Charlotte and I are getting married.”
“Oh! Um… congratulations,” Avery forced out. Aborella saw the concern gather in the corners of her cobalt eyes. “But isn’t this awfully rushed? You’ve only known each other a few weeks.”
“Your father and I were destined, my darling. You simply can’t stop what’s meant to be.” Aborella gave her a cool smile.
“Dad? How did you ask her?” Avery narrowed her eyes as if she still couldn’t believe the news.
Trouble. Aborella had not preprogrammed David to answer that question. She watched his mouth work and a tiny bit of saliva pool in the corner of his lips. Time to think fast.
“I asked him. I’ve always thought if you wanted something you should work for it, even take it if you have to. Right, David?”
He fluttered his lashes and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I think you’re right.”
Aborella raised her glass. “To David and our future happiness.” She held the glass aloft until both David and Avery joined her, then took a long sip. As expected, Avery did the same. Finally.
And spit the liquid back into her glass. “I’m sorry. This tastes off to me.”
Aborella frowned. She should not have been able to taste the milkwood. That was odd. Her fist balled under the table. Of course. She’d underestimated the witch. Clearly Raven had placed a spell of protection on her sister. Well, Aborella had more than one trick up her sleeve.
“Oh? I hadn’t noticed.” She put her glass aside. “Anyway, now that you know our little secret, we have a gift for you.”
Under the table, Aborella passed one hand over the other and a jewelry box appeared in her palm, expertly wrapped with an elegant bow. She handed it to Avery across the table.
“Oh, what’s this for?” Avery took it, her face a mask of surprise.
“Just a little something I picked up. It reminded me of you and your sister’s eyes. Consider it a thank-you for welcoming me to the family.”
Placing the box on the table in front of her, Avery pulled the ribbon and removed the top. Inside, a polished orb glowed blue against the cotton. Old magic, an ordinary crystal enchanted to serve her needs. This amulet acted as both eyes and ears, allowing her to track the activities and whereabouts of its wearer. She would know where Avery was at all times.
Best of all, with extended wear, the crystal would corrupt any protective spell Raven had placed on Avery, making her susceptible to compulsion once more. Under Aborella’s influence, Avery would become her tool.
The orb could also be used to find concentrations of magic, although that function had proved unreliable over the years. She’d used a dozen of these polished crystals in the early days without success to try to track the dragon heirs, her latest host being Scoria, the captain of the Obsidian Guard. Scoria had come as close to finding the heirs as anyone she’d ever sent to do so. He’d ended up dead. At least he’d succeeded in tracing the dragons and Raven here.
“It’s beautiful,” Avery said.
“Here, let me put it on.” Aborella stood and looped the necklace around Avery’s neck, adjusting the chain until it was precisely the right length. “As I thought, it brings out your eyes. Don’t you think so, David?”
“Oh… oh yes, it does look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Charlotte.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. Now, you won’t need this because I used the wine in the salad dressing.” She swept the plate and her glass from the table. “I’ll get the main course.”
Aborella grinned as she passed into the kitchen. This would be too easy. The next time Avery contacted her sister, Aborella would be a fly on the wall, or around her neck as the case may be. And this time she wouldn’t let her or the treasure of Paragon slip through her fingers.
Chapter Eight
2018
Sedona, Arizona
Rowan’s shoulders tensed the moment Alexander stopped talking. She worried the only thing keeping him from a slow retreat into a purgatory of his own making was telling Maiara’s story, and his sudden silence unsettled her. As the director of Sunrise House community center, Rowan dealt with children suffering in all sorts of ways: some from the death of a loved one, some from abandonment, some from the loss of a home or stability. The experts talked about stages of grief, but no Kübler-Ross-type model existed for dragons.
Any hope Rowan might have of coaxing Alexander to a place of stability, of coping with Maiara’s loss even if he could never recover from it, lay in her ability to keep him talking.
“At this point, did you believe Maiara wasn’t human?” Rowan asked. Part of her wondered at his ability to keep this secret. Back then he’d never kept anything from her. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? And what was she? Some sort of dryad?”
He snorted. “I never said she wasn’t human. All I said was that I saw her do something magical. She was an indigenous person, and I was still learning about this place the Europeans called the New World. I didn’t know what I saw that night.”
“Oh.” Rowan swelled with hope at his engagement in the conversation. This was good. Getting Alexander to tell her about Maiara was a breakthrough. She was sure of it to the marrow of her bones. His grief was a festering sore, and there was only one way to heal it. “Tell me more. I wasn’t with you after New York. I don’t know the entire story.”
He rose and sauntered to the couch, digging a bottle of tequila from between the cushions. Holding it up to the light, he shook it. Empty. “Fuck, I’m so tired, Rowan.” His voice cracked. “I’m tired of this feeling like I’m constantly being torn apart and put back together.” Silence imposed on them again.
“I know it hurts, but…” Rowan shifted from foot to foot. She should have known better than to think this would be easy. He was closing off again. The only way this was going to work was if Alexander was an active participant in his own recovery. A person couldn’t be tricked into miring through the pain. “You’ve never properly grieved Maiara’s death.”
Alexander’s eyebrows became two dark slashes in a face much too hollow to be healthy. “What are you talking about? That’s ridiculous. It’s been hundreds of years.”
“No. It’s not ridiculous. Yes, it’s been hundreds of years. You’ve suffered, so much, all alone. You are the only one who knows her true story. None of us understood her like you did, Alexander. And because we thought we had to be apart, you had no one to share those memories or your feelings with after she died.
“I bet you’ve never told anyone the story of how you loved her or how she died. Did you have a memorial for her? You’ve bottled everything up and let it ferment, and that grief has turned into something bitter and toxic. The only way to make it better is to pop the top and pour it all out. You need to tell me everything. Tell me the rest of the story of how you fell in love with Maiara.”
Every part of him tensed, and he gripped the sides of his hair as if his head
ached. “No,” he said firmly. “That’s not going to happen.” He reached inside a lampshade and snared a fifth of whiskey. Also empty. He swore again.
The bird on Alexander’s shoulder shifted restlessly, staring at Rowan with an unnerving ferocity as if it shared his agitation over the empty bottle. Surely he hadn’t trained the poor thing to drink. Maybe the hawk was as strung out as her brother.
No way was she giving up on him. She knew she was right. Pointing a finger at his face, she popped out one hip and unleashed her inner New Yorker. Forget the concerned professional persona. Now she was only his sister and she was about to give him the kick in the dragon ass he needed. “You’re a stubborn son of a bitch. I get that. Remembering is painful. I get that too. But this has gone on long enough. Look at yourself. Look at this place! It smells like the floor of a distillery in here, and this abused stray animal thing you’ve got going on is not a good look on you. You need help, and I’m giving it to you. This is not an offer. I’m telling you how it’s going to be.”
A low growl percolated up from somewhere deep inside Alexander, and he loomed over her in an unspoken threat. “Get. Out. Leave me alone!”
“No. I’m not going anywhere,” Rowan barked. She couldn’t leave. If she did, he’d revert to the troubled wraith he’d been before she’d arrived. Her heart couldn’t handle that. She needed him to be whole again, this brother who had been her rock in Paragon. “You once taught me to express my emotions using paint and canvas. You saved me. Back then, I would have either gone crazy or offed myself if it weren’t for you. All these years I’ve supported you from afar because I thought that was all I could do.
“Now I know I can do better. It’s time for me to return the favor. I’m going to save you the way you saved me. And I’m going to start by cleaning this fucking apartment while you tell me what happened next with Maiara. Because my fucking stars, I have never seen so many empties littering a place in my life.”
She strode to the kitchen and dug out a garbage bag from under the sink. At least he had that. She returned and threw the empty tequila and whiskey bottles into the bag. “Start talking.”
There was a long pause while Alexander’s face alternated between teeth-clenching tension and misty-eyed resolve. Rowan played it cool, acted like she had all the time in the world even though inside she wondered what she would do if he refused to tell her more. She had no plan B.
“Do you remember how we changed Gabriel’s mind about New York?” Alexander asked.
“It’s been centuries. Remind me.”
Chapter Nine
1699
Port of Philadelphia
When Alexander woke in the Owl’s Roost to watery light streaming through his window, his mind was already preoccupied with Maiara. Where was she? What had happened to her the night before? He dressed in the breeches, shirt, vest, and overcoat Willow offered, all designed with hidden panels to accommodate his wings, and thanked the Mountain for the oread’s magic and allegiance. While Alexander slept, Willow had cleaned, mended, and reinforced the clothing for the day’s journey.
“Shall I carry your bags down for you?” Willow asked. There wasn’t much to carry. To this point, they’d traveled constantly, amassing only the necessities.
“No, I’ll take them. Last night, Gabriel said he’d procure mounts for the journey. I’m sure he’ll be loading a packhorse.”
“Very well.”
Alexander spread his arms and the oread embraced him. Energy flowed into the creature. Once Willow had his fill, the pearlescent skin of the nymph flushed with vitality. The oread offered his thanks, then blinked out of sight. He was still there, Alexander knew, and would follow him wherever he traveled. How oread magic worked was a mystery to him, but he was regularly thankful he’d found the creature.
Shouldering his bags, he exited the room and descended the stairs, avoiding the main hall. Slipping out the back entrance, he strode toward the stables, frost crunching under his boots. Once he’d finished what was bound to be an uncomfortable moment with his brother, as all moments with Gabriel tended to be, he was looking forward to a hot breakfast and perhaps a moment to sketch the woman who had occupied his dreams.
At the entrance to the stables, however, he narrowly avoided colliding with Rowan, whose strange appearance made him recoil and look at her more closely.
“By the Mountain, sister, why are you dressed like a man?” he asked, his gaze drifting over the boots, breeches, vest, and coat Rowan wore. With her hair braided beneath a man’s hat, she could very well pass as a young male in the right circumstances.
Rowan shot a furtive glance over her shoulder. “Where’s Gabriel?”
“I thought he’d be readying the horses in the stable, but considering you’ve come from that direction, I assume not.”
“No, thank the Mountain. This will be easier if I avoid him.”
“What will be easier?”
“I’m going to New York.”
“I thought Gabriel denied you that request last night.”
She pursed her lips and toyed with the end of her braid. “I’m going alone.”
Alexander winced. “You can’t be serious. You’ve seen the way these humans treat women.”
With a huff, she waved a hand in the air. “I can handle the humans. It’s fighting with Gabriel that scares me. He acts like we’re still in Paragon and he’s next in line for the throne. Defy him and it’s off with our heads. No, brother, I’m done allowing him to treat me like his subject.”
“You know he’d never hurt you.”
Her dark eyes flicked toward the frosty earth. “Do me the courtesy of an hour’s head start before you tell him.”
“Rowan, please. We must separate if we are ever to have a real life again, but surely you want to say goodbye. You can’t leave things like this between you. This could be forever. You both deserve better.”
She frowned. Gabriel’s insistence on leading the group as if they were a battalion of soldiers was wearing on them both, but Alexander couldn’t let her give up on their family. Forced physical separation was one thing, but they all needed each other emotionally even if their contact remained sporadic and from a distance.
“Mark my words, I won’t go west. I don’t want to isolate myself from the humans. I want to live among them. I want friends. Real friends. The kind I was never allowed to have in Paragon. I want community.”
“Give Gabriel another chance. I swear to you, I will help you convince Gabriel to go to New York if you promise to stay with us until we get there. With me.” And he would. He’d find a way to give her what she needed. But the thought of her leaving and traveling this new world alone made his chest ache.
She folded her arms. “You are not playing fair, Alexander. I’ve never been able to deny you a single thing.”
“I never promised to be fair.” He winked.
“Fine, but know this, if Gabriel refuses me again, I will go, and you must take this as my goodbye because there shan’t be another.” She turned on her heel and headed toward the main entrance of the Owl’s Roost.
Alexander entered the stables and found Gabriel’s pack leaning against one of the stalls. He flopped his bags down beside them, then froze as an electric tingle made the skin along his back hot and tight. He whirled to find Maiara standing behind him, holding the reins to a pony laden with supplies. Her hawk steadied itself on her shoulder.
“Your sister should go where she wants.” She narrowed her eyes. “New York is safer. It would be safer for all of you.”
He released a deep breath. “You heard that? I promise it’s not up to me, but I do expect to speak to Gabriel about it.”
“Speak to me about what?” Gabriel marched into the stables, a lumpy flour sack tossed across one shoulder that Alexander assumed contained food for their journey. He offered Maiara a hasty good morning.
Alexander shifted, uncomfortable now that the confrontation was nigh. Saying he’d speak to their older brother was remarkably dif
ferent than actually doing it. Gabriel was an intimidating force of nature. He braced himself against the stomach-churning nerves that always accompanied a desire to challenge his brother, and with a fortifying breath said, “I think we should take Rowan to New York.”
Gabriel rested the bag next to their other things before meeting Alexander’s gaze with total confidence. “No.” He pivoted and entered the stall, cooing to the stallion inside.
Tempted to let the conversation die there, he sighed, but the nod of support Maiara gave him encouraged him to try again. Wiping his sweaty palms on his jacket, he moved inside the stall door and continued. “She’s going to go whether you like it or not. She’s an adult, Gabriel. She can make her own choices. Would you like her to do so behind your back or with your blessing?”
A grunt came from Gabriel, who did not turn from the horse he was saddling. “She will do as I tell her to do. Rowan has always been headstrong. She’ll fall into line once we are on the road.”
The way his brother said it—as if it was a foregone conclusion—made Alexander want to bang his head against the stall door. Honestly, caving in his own head would be easier than getting through Gabriel’s thick skull with any idea that wasn’t self-serving to the dragon. He should have let Rowan ride off with a hug and his well wishes.
Only Maiara’s unflappable voice stopped him from retreating. “I will not guide you if you force her to go with you.”
That caused Gabriel to stop what he was doing and advance toward her. “Pardon? Are you addressing me?”
“There is no honor in slavery.”
“My sister is not a slave,” he boomed. The force of his anger nearly rattled the rafters.
“Then she can go where she pleases. New York.” Maiara raised her chin.
Rushing forward, Gabriel moved in a flash, his presence meant to intimidate. Alexander stepped between them. Not that he expected his brother would harm her, but he didn’t dare take that chance. “You heard her. She will not guide us if you do not allow Rowan her freedom.”