4. Chapter 4
John stared at the words in front of him, running his fingers over the print. He’d pulled out the translation of the scroll shortly after Sienna left, and had been turning to it again and again the last couple of days.
Although he wouldn’t forget it anytime soon.
Not that he would be forgetting Sienna anytime soon either. He’d met her one time, and she had already left an indelible mark on him, much like Lily’s and Arabella’s birthmarks.
Yes, their birthmarks heralded the return of oracles.
That had to mean something. Lily’s biological parents had been dragons, but Bella was special considering the fact that her mother, Megan, was human.
Until she’d been conceived, there had never been a human-dragon child born.
At least that he was aware of, and he had centuries of knowledge rattling around in his brain.
How many memories could one person hold?
And speaking of memories, he walked over to the couch, shifted the one side, and flipped back the rug to reveal the trapdoor.
He opened it, pulled out his backpack, and unzipped it.
It was full of any note he had taken or lead he had followed over the centuries regarding the curse.
His journey—one might say his obsession—was captured in old leather volumes from the past as well as spiral-bound notebooks he had more recently migrated to.
He sat down and flipped through his notes.
His more formal writing of the past had also changed over the years.
Now his thoughts were often in abbreviated scribbles.
He’d dealt with witches, of course, considering he was half witch, although the meetings were never happy ones.
But he didn’t remember dealing with anything regarding Templars, and as he set one book aside and picked up another, his memories were holding true.
Megan had researched the Templars, or Knights Templars as they were known in the history books.
They had supposedly disbanded almost a thousand years ago, yet the curse referenced them and now they had come out of hiding, kidnapped Tessa several months ago, and threatened Lily.
He made notes about Tessa in his notebook and then flipped back through pages of his newest notebook until he found what he was looking for—Mia White.
When John had finally gotten his hands on the Death of Magic painting, he tried to find Mia White and have her examine it.
Mia was the foremost authority on art history regarding dragons.
But she’d dropped off the grid and couldn’t be located.
Undeterred, John found Megan, a former graduate student of Mia’s, who also studied dragon art and agreed to show the painting at the museum she worked for in Nashville.
And hadn’t that opened up Pandora’s box? And showed them the actual curse that had started it all.
Both Adam and Eric almost died because of it.
Witches and Templars were now attacking the Simonson clan.
And Mia White, the person he thought would help, had turned out to be a Templar?
And for what? To stop dragons from breaking the curse?
A curse that had stripped them of turning into their full dragons centuries ago.
Until recently they still could unfurl their wings and claws and had their advanced dragon senses of sight, smell, and hearing.
But those were failing as well. Dragon children were being born without the marks on their backs symbolizing where their wings should appear.
The time had come to finally put an end to this curse.
But how? All these notes were like puzzle pieces that he couldn’t fit together.
And the words to break the curse played on repeat in his head. They flashed like a neon sign.
Blood will be shed
Forgiveness and Sacrifice
Magic restored
His gut was telling him it was time to move on. To work to break the curse…by himself. It had been centuries since he’d allowed anyone close. Now the threat was growing. Hell, it was smacking him in the face.
Blood shed. Blood shed. Blood shed.
Forgiveness and Sacrifice.
He had no problem sacrificing himself to stop this damn curse. Had always expected that would be the outcome in the end, especially after the curse was revealed. Hell, hadn’t his so-called grandmother set it all in motion by shedding his blood to create the curse to begin with?
He’d become desperate to finish what his blood had started, and his desperation had almost cost the Simonson clan several lives. He wouldn’t put anyone else at risk, not again, especially Megan and Bella. He even worried about Tessa, who got on his last nerve. And her daughter, Lily, too.
His cell rang and he glanced at the name on the screen and wondered if his thoughts had conjured her.
“Hello, Megan.”
“Hi, John. I have Eric with me as well.”
He wasn’t surprised. The couple did everything together.
Eric and he hadn’t exactly hit it off when they first met.
Eric’s dragon was overprotective of Megan even before they became a couple.
Not that he blamed him. Megan was special.
If he was in a place where he could fall in love, he would be an overprotective dragon as well.
“I figured I would be hearing from you both.”
Megan cleared her throat before responding. “Right… We understand that Sienna came for a visit.”
John couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes even though he knew they couldn’t see him. “Is that what we’re calling it?” Invasion was more like it.
Eric chuckled and then Megan shushed him before responding. “I know how private you are, John. But you understand why Sienna showed up, right? As clan leader she’s trying to help.”
“I understand, Megan.” And he did. “I’m sure she’s a good leader.” He flashed back to her standing up to him with her big brown eyes. And exasperating. And smart. And beautiful.
“She is. And she’s very protective of the clan and her family, especially Bella and Lily.”
“It’s fine. No harm done.” There would be no future run-ins with Sienna. No reason to see her again.
Why did that not sit well with him?
“Okay.” Megan continued. “We’re still working on the curse and trying to gather more information about Mia White and the Templars.”
He stopped himself from releasing a hard breath. “I appreciate all the help you and the clan have given me, but it’s time for me to move on.”
“What are you talking about, John?” Megan asked in a rush.
“It’s time for me to go.”
“Where the hell are you going?” Eric barked.
“I can’t explain.” Because his answer would be a half-assed one. My gut is telling me to get the hell out of here. Something bad is coming.
He listened to them for a few more minutes as they tried to convince him not to leave. He finally told them he’d think about it, but he was already looking around the cabin deciding what, besides his backpack full of notebooks, he needed to take with him when he left.
He hung up, his gut burning like he’d had too much spicy Thai food. When was the last time he’d felt this anxious? He would leave when the sun set in the next few hours.
He shut off his emotions as he placed his notebooks in the backpack. He already had a duffel that contained clothes, money, and multiple fake ID’s in his truck. He always had several at the ready so that he could leave at a moment’s notice.
He walked the rooms and made sure there wasn’t anything else he needed to take with him. He realized a long time ago that there were few things that he really needed—that really mattered.
He shouldn’t have been surprised when he heard a car traveling down the gravel path toward his cabin.
He was, however, a bit surprised when he looked out the window and saw who it was.
The irate woman climbing out of the driver’s side this time and stomping to the front door.
Even with the frown she was sporting, she was still gorgeous.
But John didn’t have time for angry, beautiful women.
He needed to leave. Could feel it in his bones.
He opened the door and stepped outside before Sienna could knock. Although she probably would have just barged in anyway.
“What are you doing?” she growled.
Was that a trick question? “You’re the one who showed up at my house.”
“Because you told Megan and Eric you’re leaving!”
“And you thought you could come here and stop me?”
Her brown eyes narrowed. He was poking the lioness.
“I’m here to try and talk some sense into you. I came here the other day to ask for your help and now you’re running?”
Heat gathered in his chest at her words. “I’m not running. I’m backing away because it would be safer for your clan.”
“You don’t get to make that call. The curse talks about an oracle—Bella and Lily—and there is no way my family and the rest of the clan are going to back down from protecting them.”
“And they shouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean I need to pull them further into this.”
She glared harder. “Too late for that. You pulled them into this mess when you offered to show the Death of Magic painting at the museum Megan worked at. You don’t get to dangle the possibility of finding a cure in front of the clan only to yank it away from them now.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Then explain it to me.”
Before he could respond, he sensed a change in the air and pushed Sienna against the door, protecting her with his body before pain sliced into his side.
“What the hell?” Sienna sputtered.
“Get inside,” John grunted.
She didn’t argue, instead reaching for the knob and pushing open the door. He rushed her inside and slammed it shut. He looked out the front window, and when he didn’t see anyone approaching, he yanked the curtains closed.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Someone is out there.” He turned toward her, expecting her to panic at the sight of the arrow sticking out of his side.
Instead she shook her head. “Not again.”
What the hell did that mean? He wasn’t sure if the pain or maybe blood loss confused him or if he just didn’t understand this female.
He reached for the shaft, and she held her hand up.
“Don’t! You’ll make it worse.” She rushed over to the small kitchen and jerked open a couple of drawers before returning with a knife.
“Hold still.” She cut the shaft from the arrow and then pulled her phone from her pocket. “Let me call for help.”
“We don’t have time.”
“Do you know who’s out there?”
“No. But they won’t stay outside for long.” He rushed over to the couch and pushed the end back, groaning from the sharp stab in his side when he bent to flip back the rug covering the trapdoor.
“What are you doing? Let me help,” she insisted.
“I got it. Grab that backpack. We have to go.”
He opened the trapdoor, and Sienna looked at the ladder that led into the hole. “You’re full of surprises, John Baker.”
He held out his hand. “I’ll take the backpack.”
She gave him a pointed look before shaking her head. “I’ve got it. You take care of your side.” Before he could argue, she pulled the backpack on and climbed down the ladder.
He followed her and let the trapdoor fall, snuffing out the light from above. “Head down the tunnel.” He expanded his dragon senses so he could see. “Can you run?”
“I’m not the one with an arrow in my side. I can keep up.”
He reached for her hand and clasped it. Before he thought too much about how his fingers felt wrapped around hers, he started to jog and she kept up, so he ran faster.
Each step was like a stab to his side. He should have yanked the damn arrow out. But he might have lost too much blood if he had, and they would be in more trouble if he passed out.
“You okay?” she asked.
He nodded and kept running. They reached the end of the tunnel, and he parted the brush he had in front of the entry.
“Head to the truck. I’ll be right behind you.”
She looked at him for a moment, and he thought she was going to question him, but instead she ran outside. He opened the small box on the floor and flipped the switch. Sixty seconds appeared on the screen, and he pushed the button and ran outside.
Sienna was in the driver’s seat, and he didn’t have time to argue with her. He climbed in and handed her the keys. “Go!”
She started the truck, jammed into reverse, and spun the truck around, heading down a dirt path before flooring it.
The boom shook the truck a few seconds later, and she skidded a little before righting the vehicle again. “What the hell was that?”
“The cabin just blew up.”
“Of course it did.”
And that was all she said. She didn’t cry or scream or ask him why the house blew up. She just stated it like she was ordering fries from a drive-through.
Who was this female?
After another minute the dirt road merged onto a regular road and she sped up. He looked over the seat, cringing at the movement.
“Don’t worry,” she said without taking her eyes off the road. “The backpack is there, along with a duffel that I assume is your go bag?”
She surprised him again. And that was saying something since he hadn’t been surprised in a long, long time.
“You might want to find something to press against your side. Blood is a pain to get out of things, even leather seats.”
He opened the glove box and pulled out a handful of napkins, pressed them against his side, and suppressed a moan. “Once we get to Nashville, we’ll drop you off and then I’m leaving town.”
She gave him the side eye before she let out a huff.
He blinked. “Did you just huff at me?”
She shook her head. “I don’t huff.”
“Then what do you call it?”
“It was a pfft,” she said as she came to a crossroad.
“Do I dare ask the difference?” Why was he asking the question at all? He would chalk it up to blood loss.
The tires squealed as she took the corner too fast before answering. “The word ‘huff’ is used by men about women. Not a good word to use just so you know.”
He shut his eyes for a second. Maybe he was hallucinating this whole thing. He wasn’t in a car right now with an arrow in his side arguing with a beautiful female over the difference between a huff and a pfft.
He took a deep breath and tried to think of the right words to convince her that he needed to get far away.
He was a danger to them all. He should have never gone to Megan with the Death of Magic painting in the first place.
Now she and her baby and clan were in danger, as was the bossy clan leader currently imitating a racecar driver beside him.
He took another breath. His eyes didn’t want to open, and his brain fuzzed out on him. Damn it. He was going to pass out, and who knew where they would end up with Sienna at the wheel.