Highland Dragons

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Oh. My. God.

Rylie immediately crouched to the ground and searched for a pulse in Zerek’s neck. She so wanted him to be alive. He was unnerving at times, yes, but that didn’t mean she wanted him dead.

What the hell was wrong with her tonight? She hadn’t missed a shot in six years so why did it all go wrong now?

Panic filled her every nerve.

She leaned in closer, her right cheek brushing against the tan-colored band fastening Zerek’s blond hair into a neat queue. A faint trace of leather and bergamot filled her nose.

Please be alive. Please, please be alive.

A beat thumped against her fingers.

Thank God.

She was never so relieved in all her life.

Using her slingshot to knock out Zerek was not what she had intended. Though in her defense everything looked distorted when all she had were mere slivers of moonlight illuminating the space around her. She would never have hit Zerek on purpose. Definitely not.

Confusion wracked her brain.

Zerek looked nothing like the dragon statues that lined the abbey’s drive. Hitting him instead of the target she intended to aim at was troublesome.

A groan emitted from Zerek’s throat. He rolled over and squinted, a dazed look lingering in his eyes. “Rylie?” He brought his hand to the back of his head. “You hit me in the head with that damn slingshot, didn’t you?”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “You were not my intended target.”

“And here I was worried you might shoot off my balls. In retrospect, I think I would have preferred that loss to the alternative of nearly being killed.”

“I swear, I did not mean to hit you.”

Zerek sat up, balanced his weight on his elbows. “Then why did you?”

“I thought you were…something else.”

“So now I’m a something rather than a someone?”

He was not making this easy. “It was an accident. You’re my first miss in over a decade.”

“You’re not making a very good case for yourself.”

She huffed. “Fine. I shot you because I feared for my life.”

“Due to what?”

“When I saw you with that sword, I thought maybe there was something dangerous in the woods and I would be better off running back home. But I couldn’t cross the drive without you seeing me, so I aimed for one of the statues to cause a distraction.” Rylie reached into her satchel and pulled out her stash of antibacterial gel and clumped tissues.

“Dundaire is fairly safe,” Zerek stated. “Especially for you. Trust me on that.”

She lowered her gaze to Zerek’s sword. “Then why were you out here armed with that deadly thing?”

“Why were you trespassing on my property?”

Rylie brought the now soaked tissues to Zerek’s wound and dabbed at the bloodied spot.

“Ouch!” He swatted her hand away. “Stop that.”

“You really should let me clean off your wound before it gets infected.”

“We’re steps away from my home. I think I’ll survive until I can access the first aid kit.” He wiped his bloodied fingers over his black turtleneck.

Rylie backed away. “I really am sorry.”

“I’m sure you are, and I accept your apology.” Zerek wobbled to his feet but kept from falling. He bent to retrieve his sword. “Whoa…” He swayed.

Rylie reached out at the instant. “Stay.” She held her hand against his strong, muscled chest. “I’ll get it.”

Zerek laughed. “You?”

“Yeah, me. Why is that funny?”

“The Claymore can feel a tad overwhelming to a woman not used to lifting it.”

She stepped close to Zerek. “I assure you, specifically because I am a woman, I can lift your blade. And for the record, it’s original name was claidheam hmor.”

His lips ticked up into a wicked smile. “Spoken like a true Highland lass. Though I admit your familiarity with the sword comes as a shock.”

“Why?”

“Because all I ever see you with is that bloody slingshot. Four years we were together and never once did you mention you knew how to use a sword.”

There were lots of things they hadn’t discussed while dating, but with the odd happenings surrounding her father’s work, she wasn’t accustomed to discussing private matters with others. Not even with her then boyfriend. “I don’t talk much to anyone about my life at Craignamore. My father preferred my sisters and I to keep our world private. But since we’re on the subject now, Craignamore’s armory boasts a wide collection of various weapons and I’m well skilled in using all of them.”

To prove her point, Rylie grabbed the sword from the grass, managing it with ease. She gave the blade a once over. “This is some of the best steel work I’ve ever seen.” Her gaze flew from the double-edged blade to the dragon head etched into the larger than usual pommel above the leather-covered grip. The carved eyes reminded her of Balon’s stone orbs. “I’d say it’s authentic based on the craftsmanship, but it looks brand new. Truly amazing. Where did you get it?”

Taking the sword back, Zerek returned it to the scabbard strapped across his back. “It was locally made to my specifications.”

“You must know a lot about ancient blades to design one of that caliber.”

“I’ve been well-educated on weapons thanks to my line of work.”

The revelation didn’t surprise her as Zerek was an antiques dealer, though swords never appeared in any of his sales.

Rylie looped her arm through his, heat from Zerek’s body seeping through her jacket and blouse. She leaned closer.

He shot her a glare.

“What? You swayed only seconds ago. I certainly can’t let you head home without some insurance you won’t fall.”

“Still care about me, do you?”

She rolled her eyes. “More like I don’t want to get accused of leaving the scene of a crime.”

“So you admit to attacking me?”

“I said it was an accident.” She eyed him head on, a ray of moonlight cutting across his handsome face. Between his thin, straight nose, bright blue eyes and perfectly chiseled jawline, Zerek MacKenzie had the boyish good looks of the subjects of the Pre-Raphaelite paintings she loved so much. “You’d make the perfect knight.”

Zerek quirked a half smile. “Hardly. I’m more a beast, than a storybook hero.”

She didn’t agree with Zerek’s assessment of himself. While she still hadn’t figured out exactly what had happened that night when she thought she’d seen dragon scales slithering under his skin, she also wanted desperately to believe the occurrence was nothing more than a dream or the result of being over-stressed due to finals to complete her degree. To this day there remained a part of her that still cared for the man, even if she wasn’t about to tell him that.

With a slight sway, Zerek turned toward the abbey. “Tell me, St. George, why the hell were you trespassing on my property? You still haven’t said.”

Then again maybe it was best they’d ended their relationship. “I wasn’t trespassing. The gates were still open.”

“Just because they remained so, did not give you the right to trample across my land and attack me. If you wanted to speak with me, you could have phoned.”

“As if you would have taken my call.”

“Touché. But then you should have at least waited until daylight to pay a visit. Despite me saying earlier that Dundaire is fairly safe, feral animals do on occasion stalk the area.”

“If you mean Cousin Bane’s attempt at repatriating wolves into Scotland, that doesn’t scare me. He has them well penned in at his animal sanctuary.”

A veil of skepticism crossed Zerek’s face. “You seriously need to have a talk with that cousin of yours.”

“So now you have a thing against Bane, too?”

“No. I respect the man, greatly. I’m just saying the woods of Dragoncross are no place for a woman to wander at night.”

She held up the now empty slingshot. “I believe I’ve proved I can handle things.”

Zerek let out a deep breath while pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to ask one last time, is there a purpose to you being here?”

“You mean other than to raise your blood pressure?”

“You don’t goad my blood pressure.”

“Are you sure? Your face is turning red.”

Zerek clammed up, offered only a penetrating stare with those magnificent eyes that reminded Rylie of a cloudless blue sky.

For a moment she felt lost in that mesmerizing stare. And not in a bad way, but rather as if all the cares in the world had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders and transferred to Zerek’s.

She was certain her mouth gaped.

“Rylie?”

Zerek’s velvet smooth voice brought her back to reality. “Right, my reason for being here. I came because I want to know why you pulled the quartz eagle from today’s sale.”

He looked genuinely surprised at her words. “You were there to bid on the eagle?”

Apparently, her sisters had been right, Zerek didn’t sound as if he suspected them of being in possession of the Draco Slab. “Yes. I’d like to buy it. Name your price and I’ll pay it.”

He hesitated. “What could you possibly want with the eagle? It’s a wee bit too small of a target for you to shoot marbles at.”

“I would never shoot at it. The quartz eagle belongs embedded in the Draco Slab. It’s a vital piece of my family’s history.”

“Your family’s history?”

“Yes, the Draco Slab belongs to the St. George family. Well, officially it belongs to my mum’s family, to her branch of the MacHendries. But Catriona MacHendrie gave it to Magnus St. George sometime around the Battle of Culloden. Overall, it’s been in my family since the Romans first invaded Scotland, though somewhere along the line the quartz eagle was lost or stolen. All I know is it’s missing, and my mother’s last wish was that it be restored to the slab. She even requested it of me in a letter she wrote just before she died.”

Zerek winced. “I’m sorry your mother passed away without reclaiming the eagle. I truly am.”

“It’s not your fault. She didn’t tell anyone except for me and my dad, that she was looking for it.” At the abbey’s entrance, Rylie unhooked her arm from Zerek’s, then took a quick look at the back of his head. “You’re still bleeding.”

“I’m aware.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not as much as your last shot.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “I’ve never shot you before tonight. I would never shoot any person or animal.”

He smirked, then leaned in and brought his mouth within a hairsbreadth of her right ear. Heat poured from his body, the intoxicating scent of bergamot rising between them. “One day soon we are going to have a very interesting conversation that we probably should have had five years ago. But tonight, we’ll keep things clean and discuss only appropriate matters.”

A zing of warmth spread through Rylie’s body, from her ear straight down to her clit. WTF?

Zerek pulled away.

Rylie licked her lips, her body suddenly cold again.

A faint trace of dragon fire lingered in the air.

Impossible. Zerek might be a beast in the way that sometimes men were, but he was not a living, breathing dragon like in the tales her mother used to read to her. Or was he? She did not want to think those myths of Dundaire were real.

Zerek swung his arm out as he stepped aside to allow Rylie a clear path into the abbey.

Crossing the threshold, she gasped, all thoughts of the myths fading from her mind.

Dragoncross was huge. Far more massive than she’d imagined. Though to be fair, she hadn’t ever gotten this close to the abbey itself. Zerek’s seasonal antique sales were confined to the outbuildings located near the property’s entrance. And despite dating for four years, Zerek lived on university grounds while teaching and rarely returned to Dundaire during that time. “Looks truly can be deceiving. This place must be at least triple the size it appears from the outside.”

“That’s only because it is a colossal dwelling with several sections still in ruins.” Zerek closed the front door, a soft thud vibrating across the main hall. “Most people don’t realize the abbey’s actual size.”

“The ceilings are beyond tall.” Balon, if he were real, could probably fly through the corridor and not disturb a single column. There were also countless niches where a dragon could perch. What she’d give to climb up into one of the arches and shoot her slingshot. Though what she’d shoot, she didn’t know as every inch of Dragoncross was a wonder too precious to destroy.

“You’ve done an incredible job at keeping it up,” Rylie said. “Dragoncross is one of the most remarkable jewels of Gothic architecture I’ve seen to date. I don’t think I’ve done an excavation at a site this intact.” She couldn’t help but turn in a circle, looking up at the pointed arches lining the hall. A myriad of dragon carvings interspersed with the occasional motif of a wolf’s head peered down from the columns supporting the arches. But it wasn’t just the stonework of the building that stood out to Rylie. The larger-than-life tapestries hanging on the walls and the ceiling to floor-stained glass windows were beyond stunning.

Even the marble floor gave the impression of only recently having been installed. “How do you manage it all?”

“It’s a love, I suppose.” Zerek closed the door. “Of course it helps that Duncan and Val do as much work around Dragoncross as I do. We don’t employ a full-time staff as we never liked the idea of having strangers in our home. But we do hire some workers from time to time, depending on the situation. We do our best to keep the abbey in order. I’m sure you do the same for Craignamore.”

She and her sisters had done what they could to maintain the castle, but she had to admit it was a chore some days. A chore that was getting harder to keep up due to the rising cost of the constant renovations. “We manage. Barely.”

Zerek folded his arms across his broad chest, his black turtleneck doing little to conceal his bulging biceps. “About the quartz eagle. It’s not for sale.”

“Then why did you list it?”

“It was an accident.”

“But you listed the photograph as well as the reserve price. I can’t see how that was a mistake.”

“Jeez Rylie, can’t you just take my word on it. The eagle is not for sale and there’s nothing else to discuss.”

She was not going to give up yet. “You don’t have a right to keep it. It’s not yours. It belongs at Craignamore.”

“Do you have proof of that? And by proof, I mean viable documents that cannot be challenged by law?”

She doubted a few hand-written diaries that intertwined stories of dragons and other beasts with the Draco Slab tales would hold up in a legal court. But she did possess the most vital piece of that puzzle. “I have the Draco Slab.” Rylie patted the satchel strapped across her chest, its cool leather like a winter’s kiss against her fingers.

“You have the slab? I was under the impression it went missing in recent years.”

“No. The MacHendries have never lost it since it came into their possession. Though I do know my parents were very protective of it. I doubt they spoke about it to anyone outside the family.”

“And you brought the slab with you?”

She nodded. “I saw no reason not to. It’s rather light and not very large, in fact it’s a lot smaller than any other slab I’ve studied from various Roman walls. I just figured if you kicked up a fuss about selling the quartz eagle, I could show you I had a legitimate reason for wanting to buy it.”

That ancient stone square was far more valuable than Rylie realized. It was also dangerous, especially if used in the wrong way. Which was why he needed to take the cursed artifact off Rylie’s hands before she accidentally unleashed its power. Even without the eagle the slab still contained a degree of powerful magic. He did not care to see her hurl herself through time accidentally. “We might be able to come to an agreement.”

“I’m not selling it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Rylie curled her fingers around the satchel’s steel buckle. “My mum instructed me to get the eagle back and restore the slab. And I have every intention of doing just that. She said my future depended on it.”

He was certain Isla was right in her suspicions. But that didn’t mean he could simply walk away and risk Rylie possibly walking into the most dangerous situation of her life.

“Getting the eagle back is everything to me.”

The determined look gracing Rylie’s captivating violet eyes pulled at Zerek’s heart. He had no desire to shatter her dreams. But he also knew how dangerous the slab could be. “That artifact belongs at Dragoncross.”

“Dragoncross is not as old as the Draco Slab.”

Rylie never failed to complicate matters. From the very first time he’d laid eyes on her, she’d thrown his heart and his head into a glorious battle of chaos. And chaos was dangerous because it was the most comfortable state for him. And comfort often brought loss and pain. Two things he did not want Rylie to suffer. “True. But the builders of Dragoncross descended from the Roman makers of that slab. So that would make it more mine than yours.”

“Then I think we’re at a standstill,” Rylie countered. “For it seems we both have valid claims to the Draco Slab.”

If Rylie knew the darkness contained within that harmless looking piece of stone, she’d drop it on the instant. Not only was it the key to a portal that accessed past, but when the quartz eagle was fitted into the slab’s center, it acted like a magic mirror. It revealed the sins committed by the dragons of his unit, and sometimes even unleashed the evil of those transgressions. Evil he didn’t want anywhere near Rylie. “I believe I can prove a greater case for ownership.”

“In what court? Your own?”

He counted to five before speaking, not trusting himself to blurt out the truth. He needed to ease Rylie into the true history of the slab. Of her family. Of himself. “Trust me, Rye. You’d be better off if I took the damn thing off your hands.”

“Why?” She tilted her beautiful face to one side, her short black bob angling around her perfect jawline and forcing his gaze to fall on her plump lips.

God, how he’d love to kiss that tempting mouth. Feel her warmth like he did in the dreams she’d invaded. But Rylie St. George deserved better, and he had no intention of condemning her by making her fall for him. “Because the Draco Slab is not what you think it is. It’s not just a piece of a Roman wall. It has a far darker history than what you know of it.”

“You make it sound as if it’s cursed.”

“I don’t believe in curses, just the evils made my man.” He partially lied. But scaring Rylie by revealing a slew of frightening facts all at once about the world they both lived in, would serve no purpose. “We need to discuss the matter in detail and to do that, we’ll have to include Val and Duncan. Come.” He nodded toward the opposite end of the corridor and headed toward the library.

Rylie fell into step behind him, the click of her heels against the marble tiled floor singing through the air. “What about your wound?”

“It can wait.”

“But…”

“No buts, Rylie. We need to settle the matter of the Draco Slab first.”

To think all he wanted when he’d woke this morning was to make a few pounds selling off some of the abbey’s no longer used items and checking in with Staegyl to make sure his old friend remained safe and in good health. Instead, he got a sale that fell flat, a dragon that didn’t show, and the slayer who was born to kill him.