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Spinning like a thin, black funnel cloud, the person attempting his rescue threw out her arms and hissed, “Itealaich! Fly!”
Whipped out into the street then sling shotted right back, their impact upon the building literally shook the ground where the Guardsman lay. Trying to follow their trajectory was no use. Creed was hoisted off the ground and thrown over a thin, yet muscular shoulder. Bathed once again in the warm, soft, floral scent, with a touch of sweetness that reminded him of Queen of the Night tulips, it was as if he’d been wrapped in a blanket fresh from the dryer.
“Hey! Wait! I know that scent.”
Still only able to make small movements, which thankfully included moving his eyes, the Paladin Leader looked up to find those who had been assaulting him embedded in the side of theEarle Cabell Federal Building. Had he not just been beaten and bewitched within an inch of his life, the sight of a plethora of arms and legs sticking out of the shiny red granite, fingers frantically wiggling around the silver seals of the United States of America and the great State of Texas, would’ve been funny. As it was, he believed they’d only received a very small part of the retribution they deserved.
“Yeah, my Mate did that. Now, if she could only hear me.”
From one pounding footstep of his Fairy to the next, a shroud of black feathered wings wrapped around them both. Shooting into the air as if she’d been shot from a cannon, his Mate – the woman made for him by the Universe - who’d saved him from capture and certain death, took flight. Traversing at a speed nearly as fast as Alastair, Creed summoned every ounce of ancient Dragon Magic flowing through his veins and mentally called out to his Mate.
“Can you hear me? Do you remember me? From last night? In Valentine? Where are you taking me?”
“You might as well be talking to a wall, Lad,”Alastair scoffed, his brogue so thick Creed could smell the heather from the Highlands of his birth.
“You’re back!”
“Of course, I’m back. Did the Black Magic cook your brain? How far could I actually get from you, ya’ daft sod?”
“Not far.”Creed tried not to chuckle but failed miserably, blaming it on the shit day he was having and the many hits to the head he’d sustained.
“And finally, he catches up,”Alastair grumbled.“Can’t you feel that nasty shite? The Sorcery is still there, coursing through our veins. Have you forgotten what to do when under attack by evil? Did your mother not learn her craft from the one and only Goddess Danu and pass that knowledge onto you?”
“Yes. No. And you know she did. You were there. I’m not a wet behind the…”
“No, you are not,”the Dragon King enunciated. “You are Paladin. We are Paladin. An entity unto ourselves. We and our Brethren were appointed by the Universe to exact Her Justice. Paladin is not a race, nor a sect, not even a species. It is a creed, a belief, a religion that can only be defined by three words…”
“Strength, honor, and loyalty,”Creed finished.
Images of the day he took his Oath, as a young man, all those centuries ago filled his mind. His hair still dark as night and his face unlined, he stood before the greatest Elder of them all, Gruffydd, and recited, “Strength is the belief that we are the Universe’s Chosen Warriors. Honor is the belief that what we do is not only for the good of Dragonkin, but for the good of all mankind and every living being under the Sun. Loyalty is our guiding light, for without one's Clan – those we hold dear and would die for - one has no purpose. In the end, when we face our final flight, these three things, as well as the Love of our Mate, is all we will carry into the Heavens. Strength to the Paladin who honor the laws of the Universe and are loyal to those we protect.”
“Aye, Lad, that is what makes us who we…”
“While those sentiments are lovely,” Alex’s voice floated through Creed’s mind. Followed by the images of a tall, lithe, brunette with eyes the color of the most precious Taaffeite gemstone and curves in all the right places. Swirling with silver and glowing from within, her Power was magnetic, and her aura filled with delicious danger. “Those wonderful virtues won’t save either one of our asses right now. So, if you don’t mind, keep the waxing poetical memories to yourself until I have us somewhere safe.”
“Alex, where are you taking me?”
“She cannot hear you, Lad.”
“Then how the hell did I hear her, and how did she hear what I was saying?”
“You weren’t saying anything.” The Dragon King sounded impatient, irritated as he sighed, “You were remembering. Lost in a daydream pulled from your subconscious by the Healing Magic this lovely creature is pouring into you.”
“Ya’ gotta love havin’ a Mate. Kayne was right. But don’t tell him I said that,” Creed commented.
Then it dawned on him, how had she been able to help him when Kayne and Max weren’t? It’s not like they’re lightweights in any sense of the word. Kayne channeled the power of the Celtic God of the Sun and Max held the Magic of all the Big Cats ever created in his soul. Together those two tremendously formidable Warriors possessed enough power to blow a small country to smithereens.
No matter how much he appreciated having his ass saved by none other than his Mate, it just didn’t add up. “I need to force this shit Sorcery out of my system and get some answers. I have to know why Alex is here- now, not later.”
“How about you hold on to your short pants, Lad? Our Mate is about to land.”
Passing through a thick veil of Magic as sweet as the woman herself, Creed suddenly couldn’t keep his eyes open. No matter how hard he fought, pure exhaustion leached into every fiber of his being.
The slight jolt of her feet hitting the ground was followed by the sound of the soles of her boots pounding against concrete as she took off running. It was music to his ears. If he could only get down off her shoulder and take a breath, surely his muddled brain would clear, and the incredible exhaustion would fade away.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever admit that my Mate carried me to safety,” he chuckled wryly. “Oh, hell, I probably will. Just to show off her skills and strength.”
“We’re heading down,” Alistair advised. “Underground. It feels like we’re in a tunnel. Can you feel that, Lad? And as for admitting that Alex carried you on her shoulder, how about we reserve judgement until you have your wits about you?”
The slamming of a heavy metal door then another and another followed by a blast of cool air was all the warning Creed got, before being unceremoniously plopped into a big, soft chair. Then there she was, even more gorgeous than the night before, his Mate, one of the strongest Fairies he’d ever known – Alex MacAskill.
Opening his mouth to speak, needing to get answers to the questions racing around his mind, his lips refused to work. No sound. No words. Not even a hiss.
Deciding to reach for her, to do what he should have done the night before and touch the one and only woman he would ever love, Creed’s head fell backward, and his eyes slid shut. “No, no, no," he roared within the confines of his head. “I refuse to….”
Then her hand was on his face. The sparks of their connection skittered down his spine and straight to his cock. With the slightest of touches, the simple act of brushing his hair off his face, she’d made an old Dragon very happy. As she leaned over to put a pillow behind his head, and make him more comfortable, Creed did the only thing he could – inhaled deeply, taking her scent into his very being.
Fighting to open his eyes, to look into hers, the Paladin only sunk deeper into unconsciousness. Then he heard her voice, felt the emotion in her words and his heart skipped a beat.
If he’d been able, he would have laughed out loud when she sighed, “Well, this is a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into Alex. Now that you’ve got your Dragon here, whatcha gonna do with him?”
