Daughter Of The Dragon Princess Read online

  “Do you like dragons?” he asked.

  She shrugged, and glanced at Joe. For some reason she didn’t want him mentioning the mark. She certainly didn’t want to show it to this man. “I haven’t thought much about them.”

  “I find that a little hard to believe. Now, come and sit down.”

  Lily didn’t want to sit down. Her skin prickled with unease, and she wasn’t sure why. The man was a professor in mythology. Why shouldn’t he have pictures of mythical creatures on his walls? She sank into the chair indicated while Joe strolled around the room, studying the pictures.

  Weyland took the seat opposite. “So, tell me what it is you want to know.”

  “Anything about the standing stones.”

  “I’ve been studying the stones for nearly thirty years. It would take me forever to tell you everything I know. No, you must be more specific.”

  “Do you know how old they are?”

  “Not exactly, but in the range of 10,000 years, give or take a few.”

  “What were they built for?”

  He shrugged. “Some say they were temples to the old gods, some say they were built by the gods themselves.”

  “But what for?”

  “Do you believe in the gods, Lily?”

  “No.”

  “You say that with such conviction. How about in the one god of the Christians?”

  “No.” She didn’t believe in any gods.

  “May I ask why?”

  “I can’t look at the world, see the way it is and believe that there is some powerful force for good that controls everything.”

  “And why would you think that a god should be a force for good? Never mind, back to the stones. My own particular belief is that they were in fact built by some higher beings—call them gods or whatever you like—as gateways between worlds.”

  “What sort of worlds?”

  “Who knows? Strange worlds where anything is possible, and where a man could obtain his hearts desires. If he was willing to pay the price.”

  Joe had come to stand next to her chair, hands in his pockets. “I believe in other worlds.”

  Lily glanced up at him in surprise. “You do?”

  “Yes.” Joe smiled at her expression of disbelief. “My family has farmed close to the stones for as long as we can remember, and probably for much longer than that. There are stories tied to the stones, strange stories of strange people. It’s why the villagers stay away. And after all, I did find my own fairy child, didn’t I?

  “I’m no fairy.”

  “No you’re not.” Weyland agreed. “Do you know what you are, Lily Palmer?”

  She glanced at him sharply. Her feelings of unease were crystallizing into something much more tangible, along with a growing conviction that they had to get out of there. Fast.

  “Do you?” she asked, her mind searching for a way out.

  He smiled. His eyes wandered over her body to linger on her right arm. “I have my suspicions,” he murmured. “I don’t suppose you would like to show me the mark and confirm them.”

  Lily frowned. “How do you know about the mark?”

  “Why, Joe told me, of course.”

  She glanced up at Joe.

  He shrugged. “I told him about finding you as a baby, when I called this morning to arrange the meeting. It was strange, he specifically asked, did you have any marks.”

  “So, I take it that’s a no to my request?” Weyland said. “Never mind, there will be opportunities later.”

  “I don’t think so.” She looked at Joe, trying to put her feelings into her eyes but he appeared impervious to the atmosphere. Was she imagining it? “I think we should leave.”

  “Come now, you’ve only just arrived and we were talking of other worlds. Have you heard the name of Ankesh? Ah, I see from your expression that you have.”

  “I haven’t,” Joe said. “What’s Ankesh?”

  “Lily?” Weyland prompted.

  “I don’t know. I just heard the name from a friend.”

  “A friend?” Weyland asked, with a smile. “Not many people would refer to the King’s Enforcer as a friend.”

  “The King’s Enforcer?”

  “Malachite Smith. I believe you’ve been with him for the last twenty-four hours, have you not?”

  Lily swallowed, her stomach churning. “Who are you?”

  “Someone who has waited a long time for you to show up. All my life, in fact. So did Malachite tell you anything? Who you are?”

  “He said I was the daughter of the Dragon Princess.”

  “You’re more than that. You are the last of the Dragon Princesses. Their one hope of returning to Ankesh. Do you know what saved your life all those years ago?”

  “No.”

  “The mark. Vortigen would have slain you in a moment were it not for the mark. Or rather, he would have ordered his Enforcer to do it. If the King had demanded your death, do you think that Malachite’s sword would have hesitated? Now he plans to give you to that same king. Does it feel good to know you are destined to be the mate of a king? Even if he is a depraved, arrogant monster.”

  “Mate?”

  “Didn’t your ‘friend’ mention that part?”

  Lily’s head was reeling. No, he hadn’t told her that part. She wondered why. Then her mind flashed back to the feel of Mal’s mouth scorching hot against hers and a wave of bitterness and betrayal engulfed her. She glanced back at Weyland. He was still smiling, his blue grey eyes holding more than a hint of malicious amusement. It came to her then, who he reminded her of—Stark.

  She leapt to her feet. “We have to get out of here,” she said to Joe.

  “Why?” Joe asked, a small frown forming. “Have I missed something?”

  Weyland laughed. “Don’t you want to hear more, Lily? Besides, some friends of mine are coming to meet you. I’d hate for you to miss them. They know things you might be interested in hearing. Information about your father.”

  Lily stood for a second, unsure. “My father is dead.”

  “Yes, thanks to your friend, Malachite. But he had a legacy that has been carried on since his death. A legacy that required only you to reach completion.”

  The crunch of tires on gravel sounded outside the window.

  “That will be my friends arriving.” Weyland said. “They’ll be so pleased to see you again, Lily.”

  “Again?” She turned to Joe. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

  “I don’t think so,” Weyland said.

  Her heart lurched. Weyland held a gun in his hand, pointed not at her, but at Joe.

  “What’s going on?” Joe asked. He still seemed bemused rather than alarmed.

  Lily bit her lip, looked at Weyland. “Don’t.”

  “I’m sorry,” Weyland replied. “But you shouldn’t have involved him.”

  “I didn’t know I had,” Lily said. “Please, I’ll do what you want, just let him go.”

  “Oh, I think you’ll do what we want anyway.”

  The front door slammed and footsteps echoed in the hall. Lily’s heart thundered in her chest. The door opened, and two men entered. She recognized them from outside her apartment and from the farmhouse last night. She swallowed down the fear and swung her gaze back to Weyland.

  His finger tightened on the trigger, the gun roared and Joe crumpled to the floor.

  “No!”

  She fell to her knees besides him. The bullet had entered the center of his forehead, small and neat. His eyes were open and he stared straight ahead, still with that same expression of bemusement on his face.

  Lily clenched her fists. Crimson tinged her vision. She bit her lip trying to force herself to calm down. She’d felt like this last night, and she remembered Mal’s expression of terror. Mal, who had faced down death with a smile on his face, terrified of her. He was somewhere near, she knew it, could feel it. He would find her. Save her. Help her get revenge for Joe.

  Hard fingers clamped onto her shoulders, dragging her to her f
eet. She took one last look at Joe, and turned to glower at her captors.

  “What’s wrong with her eyes?” Stark asked.

  Weyland shrugged. “Lily,” he said. “Perhaps, if I repeat my earlier request, this time you would comply. The mark Lily, I want to see the mark.”

  She glared her hatred at him, and he sighed.

  “Strip her,” he ordered.

  Rough hands tugged her shirt from her shoulder, baring her upper arm. She didn’t resist, too busy fighting the rage inside her. She didn’t know what would happen if she gave in to it, only that it would be nothing good. Yet part of her yearned to let it all free, to live…or die with the consequences.

  Fingers stroked her arm, lingering on her shoulder, and every muscle in her body tightened. Weyland stood beside her, touching her, and she gritted her teeth. She looked from him back to Joe’s lifeless body, and a wave of fury surged inside her. Across the room, the velvet curtains burst into flame, orange tongues of fire licking upwards. Exhilaration filled her; she wanted nothing more than to see them all burn. The edge of Stark’s jacket ignited next. He slapped wildly at the flames and she smiled.

  “Shit. What the hell is happening?” He pointed at Lily. “It’s her.”

  “It can’t be,” Weyland said, but she could hear the alarm in his voice. “The Dragon Princesses can’t make the fire. They were never capable of magic.”

  “Well, this one is. I told you what happened the other night—the same thing.” He reached out and shook Lily’s arm. “Stop it.”

  “I can’t,” she murmured. “I don’t know how.” She wasn’t sure that even if she could, she would stop it now. The sight of the flames entranced her. The thick, delicious scent of smoke filled her nostrils. At that moment, she would have stood and watched the whole world burn.

  “For God’s sake, one of you do something.”

  A moment later, she felt a sharp prick in the back of her neck and darkness once again enfolded her.

  Chapter 10

  They came over the last rise and found themselves standing on the crest of a green hill. The land fell away all around them and the sky arched blue overhead. Before them stood the portal of Taryn Carnack.

  Through the gaps in the tall standing stones, Mal could see the amphitheater, with the altar and the portal behind. A sense of timelessness and expectation hung heavy in the air, and a shiver of recognition trickled down his spine.

  He searched the area but could see no sign of Lily—no sign of anything. No sounds disturbed the unnatural peace.

  Cole came up beside him. “This place gives me the creeps.”

  “It’s supposed to.”

  “Charming,” Cole muttered. “Just what is it anyway? It looks like some sort of mini-Stonehenge.”

  “It’s a gateway.”

  “You mean like on that TV show, where they go through this portal thing to another world?”

  Mal glanced across at him in surprise. “Yeah, just like that.”

  “TV program’s a load of bollocks, and this doesn’t look like a gateway to me. It looks like a pile of old rocks. And I don’t see our girl anywhere.”

  “No.” Mal frowned. “I don’t think Lily’s here, after all.”

  “Great,” Cole said. “Just great.”

  Mal stroked his hand across the rough surface of the guardian stone, warm to the touch, as though the stones possessed a life of their own. He traced the swirling patterns cut into the rock, before stepping through into the center.

  Within the circle, all was quiet. No hum from the gateway—nothing. And no Lily. Where else could she be?

  “Try her cell again,” he said to Cole.

  Cole punched in the number. “Nothing. So what do we do now?”

  What choice did they have? “We wait or rather, I wait. You can head on home.”

  “Nah, I’ll see this to the bitter end.” Cole sighed heavily. “But I’m going to catch up on some sleep. Be sure to wake me if anything happens.” He sank down onto the grass, propped himself against one of the standing stones, and closed his eyes.

  Mal couldn’t relax. He wished there was something he could do—he hated the waiting—but every sense screamed to him that Lily would come here. He just couldn’t understand why she wasn’t here yet. What could be holding her up?

  They waited all through the afternoon and evening. The moon had risen behind the ring of stones, when the sound of people approaching broke the eerie silence. Many people.

  Crossing the circle, he nudged Cole with his toe. “Someone’s coming.”

  Cole struggled to his feet. “Lily?”

  “If it is, she’s got company. A lot of company.”

  He gestured to a gap between the standing stones. The night was no longer dark. A flickering orange glow lit the hillside. He couldn’t see them yet. They were still over the rim of the hill, but they were getting closer. He tugged on Cole’s jacket and pointed away from the stones. They withdrew and took cover in a small copse of trees.

  “Very melodramatic,” Cole murmured as the procession wended its way towards the stone circle.

  They were all dressed in long robes, hoods hiding their faces. The group was packed close together, the outer members carrying burning torches. Then, for a second, the ranks parted revealing a brief glimpse of Lily’s long red hair, before they closed in around her again.

  A sudden coldness clutched at his chest, and he had to battle down the instinctive urge to race forward.

  The group parted again and this time, he had a clear view of Lily. A man carried her wrapped in a grey blanket, but the bright glow of her hair spilled over her captor’s arm. Mal kept his gaze fixed on her until the group reached the crest of the hill and disappeared into the stone circle.

  “There must be twenty of them,” Cole said. “We’ve got to get back-up. We can’t take that many.”

  “No. If we do, then chances are they’ll kill her and run.”

  Cole shook his head. “I’m not happy about this. Just who are these guys anyway? They look like a load of nutters to me, and what’s with the funny outfits? Is it some sort of religious cult?”

  “Something like that. Come on, we have to get closer.”

  Two men emerged from the circle. They separated and started to walk the perimeter. “Stay here,” Mal whispered. “Do not move until I tell you to.”

  “Where…” Cole started to say, but Mal melted into the darkness.

  Every sense screamed at him to hurry. He followed the first guard, closing in as the man reached the opposite side of the circle. Sliding the knife from the sheath at his waist, he crept up behind and sliced the blade cleanly across the exposed line of the guard’s throat. He clasped the body tight against his chest as the life drained away, then lowered it gently to the ground. Dragging open the robe, he found a pistol holstered at the man’s waist. Mal pulled it out and tucked it in the waistband of his pants.

  The second guard was almost opposite where Cole crouched. Mal took him out the same way. He was wiping the knife clean on the robe as Cole came up beside him. “I told you to wait.”

  Cole studied the body, the blood still pulsing from the gaping wound. Then he crouched down and opened the dead man’s robe. Underneath he wore trousers and a shirt, a pistol holstered at his thigh. Cole rifled through the pockets but came up with nothing. “Do you have any idea who he is?”

  “He’s scum.”

  Mal pulled out the pistol and held it out to Cole. “I take it they do teach you to use one of these? Even if you’re not allowed to carry.”

  Cole nodded. He checked the gun over. “Am I going to need this?”

  “Probably.”

  Cole shook his head, but took the pistol. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “We’re saving Lily.”

  “From what?”

  “Let’s go see.”

  ***

  Everything hurt.

  Lily’s lids were too heavy to lift. She tried to work out where she was, and how she’d got t
here. Cool air brushed over her skin, so she guessed she was outside. Stretched out on her back, the coldness seeped deep into her bones, the rough surface beneath her digging into her bare skin.

  She had a bad feeling about this. Really fucking bad.

  The heavy scent of incense hung in the air, clogging her nostrils, burning the back of her throat, and all around her, the low chant of a multitude rose and fell. Beneath that, a muted hum, like a hive of bees, kept time with the chanting. The noise was familiar, and she struggled to remember where she’d heard it before.

  Fuck. She was back at the standing stones of Taryn Carnack—right where Mal told her not to go. She was beginning to see his point. And if she wasn’t mistaken, she was lying naked on the altar before the arch. She tried to rise, but something held her down, pressing her into the cold, hard stone.

  Swallowing her fear, she focused her mind. She wasn’t tied in any way, but held in place by hard hands that dug painfully into the bones of her wrists and ankles. Her panic spiked. She fought, thrashing from side to side, but the fingers tightened around her, and she couldn’t break free. Exhausted, she slumped back, lay still, and pried open her eyes.

  A sickle moon hung high above her. Rolling her head to the side, she caught sight of the hooded figures holding her down, eyes gleaming behind the folds of their cowls. Behind them, other shadowy figures milled in the dim, flickering light, and all the while, the chanting filled her ears.

  Fucking weirdoes.

  Normal had never seemed so desirable.

  What was the chance this was a nightmare, or some drug-induced hallucination she would wake from soon? But she knew it was no dream.

  What were they planning? Her mind flicked over the possibilities. Mal had told her they wanted her blood. Ugh! She didn’t want to think about how they were going to get it.

  But the thought of Mal brought a glimmer of hope. Mal wouldn’t abandon her, and he’d guessed she was heading for the stones. He would find her, sooner rather than later, she hoped, because things were not looking good.

  One of the hooded figures glided up to stand by her side.