Chapter Twenty Five
She met her barrack at breakfast and, ulterior motive in mind, led them to the training ground for a light practice. She wanted them warmed up and loose but not tired. Plus, she hadn’t had a chance to work with the chains Kenny had given her yet. While her barrack members paired off she choose a space with a good bit of distance around her and unsheathed her axes. With minimal effort she linked the chains together, creating a single chain running between the two weapons. She started slow, getting the feel for how the chain expanded and contracted as she moved the weapons around. She felt a very light touch against her mind. They seemed linked to her intentions, anticipating her movements and adjusting the length in order to minimize her risk of tangling it. She was even more impressed than she’d originally been with the gift. Made out of the same material as her weapons, the jet chains were strong and added barely any weight.
She moved the weapons faster, releasing one, pulling it back to wrap around her body, up her back, then it shot forward and slammed into the ground as she brought the momentum down by twisting her shoulders and dropping to one knee.
Smooth as liquid, the chains poured over her skin as she grabbed the chain, pulled the ax back and disconnected them back into two pieces. They fell from her back and snaked up her forearms. The chains seemed to contract and aid the return so that her light ax flew back with barely any effort.
Thrilled with the performance, Dahlia worked with them a while more until she felt her muscles begin to burn. She didn’t want to overtax herself either so she reluctantly sheathed her weapons. Her barrack, who had all been watching out of the corner of their eyes, quickly shifted back to focus on their partners. She suppressed a smile. If they’d been less obvious about it she probably wouldn’t have noticed. She called an end to the training anyways and led them back with instructions that they were to stick close to the barrack. If they were needed she didn’t want to lose time tracking them down.
She settled into her office with a strong tea, a notebook, and an exceedingly dry book on the history of psychic abilities. Some of the accomplishments were fascinating. She’d pulled the concept for the new tool she had woven into to her ring from the book, in fact. The writer’s precision in documenting minute details and explaining where the record had come from and its reliability was useful in attempting to recreate some of the feats but he also had a remarkable gift to make even the most incredible cases seem boring.
She first documented her process with the ring from the previous day in her notebook then turned to the history book. She was struggling through a section on a man who had been able to communicate with fish despite the interference of running water when a knock on her door shattered her focus.
“Come in,” she called out, marking her place and closing the book. The man with the fish could wait.
A messenger hurried in and bowed low, “Captain DeMorra, your immediate presence is requested in the meeting hall.”
Dahlia left the tea and the book, strapped on her sheathed weapons, and headed towards the meeting hall.
Again all the captains had been summoned. Her eyes lit on Kenny where he stood leaning against the wall, feigning disinterest as usual. She could feel his focus on the atmosphere around him. She pulled her eyes away and tried to ignore the sensations running through her his presence caused. Borreal had been right, some part of her seemed to pull darkness and danger towards her. The comfort she’d started to feel around Kenny should have been sending up warning signs. Being insane enough to lust after him was stupid enough, letting her guard down was even worse. Especially after what she’d felt in him the night in the trees. She wasn’t worried about him hurting her. She was scared of what she felt him bringing out in her.
She searched for Borreal, hoping his presence could instill some sanity in her, and joined him towards the front of the room. He looked concerned.
“Do you know what this is about?” Dahlia asked him in a low voice.
“Enemy scouts were spotted about an hour ago.”
Dahlia fell silent. Scouts meant that a full force was likely a day behind.
When all captains were present, Mazaran again mounted the podium.
“Our perimeter guards discovered enemy scouts in the area. I think you all know that there is now a strong chance a fight will be coming to our doorstep.”
“Captain Horan and Captain Ravin, you will take your scouts and locate the enemy forces. Report back without taking the risk of approaching. Captain Jenue, see that our defenses are in place and that the announcement system is secure. Captain Makier, see to the guard shifts. The rest of you are to prepare your barracks to fight and await my instructions.”
The captains bowed, acknowledging the instructions and the dismissal. As she turned to leave, Dahlia saw Kenny talking to Horan nearby. Borreal placed a hand on her shoulder. “Wait.”
Mazaran approached them. “Captain Borreal, Captain DeMorra.” Both captains inclined their heads.
“We are to assume that Captain DeMorra will be targeted in this attack. As we do not know why or how all we can do is be prepared. If there is any way to work out the enemy’s goal before the attack begins that would be critical. Captain Borreal, I leave the matter in your capable hands. Captain DeMorra, it would seem that the enemy has been keeping tabs on your movements. It would be better if you altered them for the duration of this. I would suggest keeping in contact with the captains around your barrack so one of them is alerted if something goes awry.”
She bowed as he walked away then she left with Borreal. She was not pleased with Mazaran’s insinuation that she needed another captain to keep her safe. What annoyed her even more was that she knew he hadn’t meant it that way and that it was good advice.
Borreal sensed her irritation and let her be. She reported back to her team and spent a good portion of the day reviewing defense scenarios with them. All the traps they’d built were still in place and she released them to check and enhance them.
She ate a late meal in the garden with her torches illuminating the carefully cultivated flowers and foliage in the dark. She savored the calm before the storm, more precious for its end drawing near. She let her mind drift and the scent of the earth and the greenery filled her nose.
She shot to her feet as a dark form dropped over the walls.
“Kenny! Can’t you knock or cough or something like everyone else?”
He gathered her in his massive arms and pressed his lips hungrily to hers. “Come with me.” She sensed the predator excited behind his flat, black eyes.
“What? Now?” She didn’t understand.
“Yes, I located them today. We can take out some on the edges of their camp. In the dark, it’ll be fun.”
“Something tells me Mazaran didn’t ok this.”
Kenny laughed, low and deep.She felt the sound vibrate through her. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And he told you to change it up and stick with another captain. Who’s better than me?” He grinned like a child with a new toy.
That struck a chord and a wicked fire lit inside her heart. These men had targeted her, hunted her, tried to make her afraid. Mazaran had told her to hide, to give in to that fear. Kenny had asked her to turn the tables, fight back, make them afraid.
“I’ll go with you,” she heard herself say.
Kenny stroked his hands down her sides. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she said, feeling a strange calm settle over her, vicious and deadly.
Kenny released her and the sense of predator increased ten fold. Still she stood calm, watching as the man began to change. His fingers lengthened and grew talons as his skin turned black. He crouched forward as his arms lengthened and his legs bent. Two horns curled out of his forehead as his face lengthened into a snout filled with razor teeth. Bat wings snapped out around him. Scales began to shine over his skin and he grew to over seven feet tall. A dragon crouched before her, a demon in its true form.
Shocked, she approached as Kenny’s eye’s watched her from the dragon’s face. There were stories of dragons and stories of were-creatures but never of a man who took the form of a dragon. Dragons had died out eons ago, now only living in legends. They were supposed to have been huge beasts, powerful and nearly impossible to kill. They had intelligence rivaling that of a man but strange, alien ethics and understanding of the world.
Seeing what had been hidden behind his eyes Dahlia felt nothing but interest which chilled her. She should have been terrified but she couldn’t find the reaction in herself. Borreal’s warning about dangerous people and situations danced through her mind but she couldn’t make it stick. She wanted this.
She followed the pull of her mind towards him. He watched her carefully as she approached, gauging her reaction. She ran her hand down his neck and he leaned into her hand with a pleased rumble. The scales were surprisingly warm and supple. The same flat black as his eyes. She didn’t doubt they’d be nearly impossible to pierce.
“I’ll carry you.” She heard Kenny’s voice, much lower and rougher. She wasn’t sure how he formed the words.
She nodded, grabbed her axes, and threw herself onto his back. The giant wings snapped around them as they lifted out of the garden and into the sky.