The Dragon and the Dreamwalker (Elemental Series) (26 page)

“She was murdered.”  He dropped her wrist and sat down by the edge of the pool.

Murdered? Ironic, the man who was responsible for the murders of her own parents had lived through the same pain as her. She felt the loss of the woman’s life, but held no remorse for Drake’s own feelings.

“So now you know,” she said with a vengeance of her own. “Now you know what it’s like to have one’s parents murdered.”

He didn’t answer, and she didn’t pursue the subject. Though it wasn’t by his blade they’d died, she still held the man responsible for her own parents’ deaths. It was hard forgiving the man who’d taken her father’s castle. If it wasn’t for him leading his men to storm the place, her parents might still be alive today.

“I saw your father while you were away.”

His eyes snapped up to hers and then back down to the water.

“My father’s been dead for years. You must have seen someone else. It wasn’t him.”

“He was in the pool. His form was reflected there, yet I don’t know from where it came.”

“How could you know it was him?”

Drake hadn’t seem surprised she saw a vision in the water. He hadn’t even asked how it happened. He knew so much more than he was willing to share.

“He told me. Not to mention, you are a lot like him.”

“I’m nothing like my father!” He jumped to his feet, defending himself. “My father was evil. He was a cold-hearted bastard. He killed for pleasure, laughing at his victims as they bled to death at his feet. He started wars for fun. He raped young virgins because he could. He was so greedy that he’d do anything to get what he wanted. He even took my mother as his wife against her will, right after he stormed her castle and killed her parents.”

“Really. And yet you claim you are nothing like your father?”

Her words cut him deeply, and she couldn’t help but see the disappointment in his eyes. He was a little too much like the father he hated, and her words only brought the fact out in the open. She knew he’d been denying this for years. She also knew she was right. If not, her accusation wouldn’t have roiled him so.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. His eyes were dark again, and his jaw was set firm.

“Don’t ever compare me to that devil. I am nothing like him, do you hear?”

He must have realized he treated her roughly. He suddenly released her and stepped away far from her.

“I - I didn’t mean to do that,” he admitted, seeming ashamed of his actions.

“I apologize for my words, my lord, but it seems to me you two are one and the same. Unless you tell me otherwise how you differ, I will believe nothing less.” She should have stopped roiling him, but her will wouldn’t let her. She felt she had the upper hand, and was seeing Drake’s hidden emotions for the first time.

“You play with fire, woman, with the words you challenge me with.”

“Ah, but as you know, I get my strength from fire, my lord. My words don’t lie, do they?”

She knew she was trying his patience and aggravating him immensely. She also knew she didn’t have her father’s dagger with her, and had no way to protect herself if he should decide to hurt her. He wasn’t armed at the moment, but his hands on her shoulders alone had been tight and gripping. If he wanted to snap her neck in two with his bare hands right now he could, and she’d be totally defenseless.

“How are you different?” she prodded, wanting to know more about Drake and his hatred for his own father. Standing up to him was invigorating, though she knew she was foolish to do so. “What is it that makes you any better than the man who begot you?”

“My father,” said Drake, trying to talk though his lip trembled in anger. “Aurelius Pendragon, the man who begot me was a murderer.”

“You already told me that.”

“So I did.” His words were softer now, as if he was lost in thought.

“Is there more?”

By the look on his face, she’d say there was lots more he wasn’t telling her. If only she had the ability to scry like her late mother. If she had that ability, she’d be able to save Drake from his memories. But she wasn’t here to save him. She was here to find out about the man to whom she was married.

“He was worse than that,” Drake finally answered.

“Worse than a murderer? I don’t think I understand.”

He looked directly at her, and she could read the pain along with the hatred in his eyes. She felt a darkness within him that made her shiver. A darkness she’d rather not be experiencing alone with Drake in a cave.

“Aye, ’tis much worse,” he told her in a low voice. “You see, my father was the one who murdered my mother.”

Chapter 20

 

 

Drake watched as Brynn’s eyes opened wide, along with her mouth. She was shocked at his words, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d told her something he’d never told anyone before. He’d let her know the secret of just how evil a man his father had been. The man who’d spawned him. The man who raised him to walk in his footsteps every step of the way.

“He killed your mother?” she repeated, aghast.

“That’s what I said.”

“But how? Why? Why would a man want to kill his own wife?”

These words coming from the witch’s mouth were almost amusing. Almost, but not enough to make him laugh aloud.

“Why would a woman want to kill her own husband?” he challenged her. She seemed confused at first until she realized he was speaking of her. Her defense was up once again.

“You gave me reason to want to kill you. I only wanted revenge for my parents’ sake.”

“Wanted?” He walked to her and stroked a finger under her chin. Her eyes met his with the same wanting in them he’d seen earlier when she’d thought to kiss him. “It almost sounds to me as if you’ve changed your mind. Have you changed your mind about other things as well?”

She tightened the hold of the blanket around her breasts. “You gave me your word you wouldn’t touch me.”

He stepped away, and rubbed the fingers of his one hand together.

“So I have. And I have kept my word. I haven’t touched you in a lusty manner yet, have I?”

She almost seemed disappointed if he wasn’t mistaken. He liked that. Her defenses were breaking down. Brynn was the type of woman who always got what she wanted. Even if she did ask for his touch, he had half a mind not to give it to her, just to teach her a lesson.

“You’ve managed to turn the conversation around once again, my lord. I believe we were talking about your father, not about us.”

She was a sharp one, he had to admit. Most women weren’t aware enough to realize when he took control of a conversation.

“I think we should get some sleep. ’Tis late. We’ll be getting an early start back to the castle in the morning.” He grabbed the clothes thrown over a rope by the fire, feeling that they were dry. He tossed hers to her, and took his own toward the mouth of the cave. “Get dressed. I won’t have you tempting me during the night if your blanket should come loose.”

He looked back to the pool one last time before stepping outside. He couldn’t push the image of his father from his mind. He knew Brynn wasn’t lying when she said she saw his father’s reflection in the water. He’d seen it too. He should have known a dragon would rise from the water’s depths. He was only glad he was able to save Brynn from all of this. He’d have to make sure she stayed away from the pool from now on. It wasn’t safe being that close. Anything could happen.

“Sweet dreams, my little
Dreamwalker
. Perhaps we’ll meet in a dream tonight.”

He saw her body tense when he said it, causing him to wonder if he truly had
dreamwalked
and she kept him from knowing. He’d have to pay more attention to his actions while he slept.

 

* * *

 

Brynn felt uneasy sleeping in the cave while Drake was out of sight. Since seeing his father’s vision in the pool and the dragon that arose from the mist, she wasn’t at all comfortable with the thought of staying anywhere near the cave that night. Fully clothed, she reclined on the ground atop her half of the blanket, wondering if Drake was asleep. She wanted to call out to him outside the cave and bid him good dreams as well, but couldn’t. He had seemed to know about his
dreamwalking,
and it was frustrating not knowing for certain if he’d remembered.

His presence so near her excited her, yet scared her. She knew now, the secret with Calais wasn’t what was holding her back from coupling with her husband. She wanted him badly. The desire ate at her soul. The attraction she felt for him, even when she wanted to kill him, is what had her scared out of her mind.

Giving herself to the man might be giving her power to him as well. She wasn’t sure about any of this. She needed to find out more about Drake before she gave herself to him in the physical form. Still, she felt safe coupling with him in their
dreamwalking
forms, where she knew she held power. But lately, she felt he was controlling their relationship on that level also. Drake was indeed an intriguing man.

The torches burnt out, and the cave seemed darker than a starless night. Still, the cooking fire burned to warm her. She threw a few more branches on the fire, wondering if she could use the excuse of looking for wood to leave the cave, but decided against it. Drake had seen to it she wouldn’t run out of fuel that night. He’d stacked a pile of wood halfway to the ceiling. All dry. She had no idea where he’d found dry wood in the rain. The man was resourceful, and she liked that. He was protective and supplied her with warmth, food and shelter. All the things she’d told him a good husband should be.

She laid down right at the edge of the fire for protection, feeling the flames lapping at her bare feet. The fire comforted her and she dozed off, dreaming of running in a field of flowers with her mother by her side. Her father approached them on horseback, the everlasting picture of a gallant knight. He reached down for her, and she reached up to take his hand. But when she looked up to him, the dream had changed.

Suddenly, she was a boy about ten years of age. A boy who was striving hard to be like his father. His father sat before him on horseback, a pennant of the dragon waving from the bannered pole held by the squire at his side.

“Follow me, son,” came the man’s words.

She was about to do just that, when a woman’s words from behind stopped her.

“Nay! Don’t go with him. You don’t want to be like him. He’ll only lead you to self-destruction.”

She turned to see a beautiful woman with flowing black hair loose and unbound. Her gown was simple, her feet bare. Then Brynn realized she was in her nightrobe.

“Let him alone, wife,” the man growled. “My son will follow in my footsteps. He’ll live on in my ways. He’ll become the
Dragon’s Son
.”

He grabbed Brynn’s hand in his, and she realized it was slippery from blood. She pulled away in disgust, and saw the man’s eyes grow red - glowing like that of an animal in the dark. Suddenly it was dark all around her. The sky thundered and rain washed down in torrents.

“He’s coming with me.” The nice woman grabbed Brynn’s other hand and led her away. The sky split open above them as they ran across the field. “Don’t look back at him,” came the woman’s command, but Brynn felt the need to do just that, pulling from the woman’s hold to look back at the man who was the lady’s husband.

The man atop the horse followed after them, anger in his eyes, his sword drawn.

“Son, run! Get far away from here, fast,” the woman cried.

“But mother,” she heard herself answer. “What about you?”

“’Tis too late for me,” she told him, “but you can still save yourself, now go.”

Brynn looked down at her body and noticed she was dressed as a miniature version of the man on horseback. A chainmail hauberk was unheard of for such a young boy. So was the sword at her hip. Only knights dressed for battle. Squires were there to protect their lord, not to protect themselves. She wasn’t even sure she was a squire. With the boy’s young age, he was probably nothing more than a page. None of this was right. It seemed wrong to be so well protected when the lady called mother stood there in nothing but her nightclothes.


Dragon’s Son
,” called the man on horseback, racing over to try to scoop up the boy.

Brynn fell backwards at the woman’s shove, just out of the way of the horse’s trampling hooves. That’s when she noticed the dragon on her surcoat. The dragon that was just like the man’s crest. She heard the woman scream and looked up to see the man gone, and a fierce, hideous dragon in his place.

Brynn got to her feet wanting to protect the lady, but found herself too scared to move. The woman cried out for help, but Brynn didn’t budge. The dragon slashed out a claw toward her mother, scraping the woman’s chest. Blood oozed out from the woman’s form as she fell helpless at the dragon’s side. Then the dragon’s breath of fire shot forward, and Brynn watched in horror as the woman in the nightdress went up in flame before her eyes, burning to a pile of bones almost instantly.

The dragon turned its fierce head and looked right toward Brynn. It almost seemed to smile as its mouth opened and its rows of pointed teeth dripped blood. She felt her stomach roll, and smelled the burned flesh of the woman among her own fear. The dragon lashed out its tail, turning the woman’s bones to powder before it took off into the sky without hurting her - the boy.

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