The Dragon Warrior's Baby Page 2
“That is not what I am doing.”
Indulf frowned at him, but nodded. “Very well. But I do not want you to open any more portals to the future without prior authorization. Understood?”
Volcant made a choked noise in his throat, but he could not very well defy his king. Not to his face, at least. Though his fires roared, he nodded and ducked his head. When there was nothing more forthcoming, he took his leave and headed back to his chambers. The anger at Indulf’s unfair behavior made him snarl and want to punch something, but he was a full-grown warrior and far more capable of controlling himself than the pup of a king. Indulf was quite young to think he knew so much about relationships.
Volcant threw himself onto his bed. Between traveling through time and the fun he’d had with Misty, he was feeling a little ragged around the edges. Thinking of Misty brought a smile to his face, though. She was one he wouldn’t mind visiting again. Perhaps next time he could bring her something to wear, if she was up for it. She’d look especially sexy in chainmail, with all her curves straining against the metal links.
The thing about the humans from the future was that they knew their stuff. Not that the women he’d had in Byrelmore didn’t, but future women knew things that they didn’t. Plus, they had all sorts of neat things to go with the act of lovemaking. Toys that vibrated, lubrication of different flavors and films of people having sex, so that they could have an idea of what to do if they were tired of laying on their backs.
Not to mention the internet was full of advice. Whoever came up with that one was a genius. You could ask anything at all and it didn’t matter if people judged you for it, because they were just as faceless as you were. It had its downsides, of course; there were a lot of creeps out there. But it also meant that the flow of information was less awkward.
“I’m telling you that I don’t care!”
Volcant’s eyes opened at the sound of Vilma’s voice beyond his door. He frowned as he swung out of bed. Women usually didn’t come to the warrior’s chambers. There were other rooms for coupling to take place in and for Vilma to be here, it had to be important.
“I have to tell him that—”
A low voice interrupted her, but Volcant couldn’t tell who it was. He strode to the door, wrenching it open to glare at the other side. Vilma and Hendric stood there. Hendric blocked the mage’s path, but when Volcant came out of his room, she looked triumphant anyway. Hendric, for his part, scowled more deeply.
“Volcant, you’ve received a message from the future. One of your traps has been set off.”
It wasn’t really a trap, more of an internet search that ran while he wasn’t present. He’d paid the technological equivalent of a mage (a ‘nerd’) to write up a spell in order to find news that could lead him to the assassins. If it had brought back results, he needed to get back to the future at once to see what was happening.
When he stepped forward, Hendric put out his hand. “The king has forbidden—”
“I am the king’s head of palace security. This is a matter of security,” Volcant interrupted, narrowing his eyes. “I am your superior. If you’re so concerned about the king, then you can go rat me out.” He seized Vilma’s arm and pulled her into the room. His heart pounded as he slammed the door shut in Hendric’s face. He turned to Vilma. “Are you ready or do you need more rest?”
“I’m ready.”
Volcant nodded and stepped back. Hendric pounded on the door and Volcant quickly locked it. He turned to Vilma, who now stood in the center of the room. Her hands were before her, wrists together as she turned in a circle, her head lolling all around, so her hair made a giant, sweeping circle around her. She began to chant, in a harsh, guttural language. The sound grated on Volcant’s ears, as it always did, but the circle started to glow with a brilliant white light.
The circle opened wider, a peek of molten rainbow in the center. The door burst open and Volcant threw himself forward. He heard Hendric’s bellow of fury just as he leapt into the portal.
Something was wrong.
Nails ripped over his skin. His fires burst from his stomach, tearing through flesh to consume his body. A dark figure wrapped its hands around his throat. Instead of the confusion of sound around him, there was only a noiseless scream of fury and pain. Volcant yanked himself back, his body so many stabs of light. The dark figure tightened its grip and he lashed out. He knew his fist had connected only by a ripple of light that burst from the shadow on contact. A hiss of pain echoed through the void. He lashed out again and again, until his fist found solid flesh.
Pain rippled from his chest and he screamed. All around him color poured down his throat, drowning him.
And then it was gone. His body fell with a heavy thunk onto grass. He pressed his face into it, breathing in the scent, but it was wrong. Chemical. The noise of thunder rolled beside him and when he weakly lifted his head, he saw that it was a herd of cars rushing along a highway.
Volcant pushed himself to his knees, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He was in the future world—the human world. But something was wrong. He couldn’t remember what had brought him here… Assassins…
A face flashed through his mind and then everything went black.
Chapter Three
Misty
Friday night. The regular slot for the housemates’ dungeons and dragons game. Over the past couple years, since the five of them had all lived together, it had become a regular thing. More than once Misty had turned down or rescheduled a date because she didn’t want to miss out on the campaign. It was a nerdy thing, she knew, but it was fun. Why should guys be the only ones to enjoy nerdy things?
Tonight, though, she had declined to play. Anna had brought Indulf again and she couldn’t see her friend’s happiness with her husband and little boy without stirrings of envy. She was having a real pity-party today.
A burst of laughter came from the main room, where Anna was no doubt leading them on some grand adventure. Little did the other girls know there was an actual dragon at their table. Well… two.
Of course, Misty had secrets of her own. It had been a year, almost to the day, since she and Volcant had had their passionate night. And what she had gotten from it… Her gaze traced to the crib set up at the foot of her bed, where her three-month-old daughter lay sleeping. Cara, Volcant’s daughter.
She hadn’t told anybody that her baby was half-dragon. She didn’t know what the rules in the dragon kingdom were about single mothers and she wasn’t certain if Volcant was really missing or if that was a line Indulf spun to ‘protect’ his friend from her.
Misty’s stomach clenched as she looked down at Cara, with her sweet, innocent face. Her skin was lighter than Volcant’s had been, darker than Misty’s, but she had Volcant’s eyes, his nose, and his smile. Misty could almost see her stubbornness grow day by day, which she hoped wasn’t the only trait Cara would get from her.
Right now, though, she was feeling less stubborn and more uncertain. She had a job, a good job. She had a place to live and her housemates were more than happy to help her out with the baby from time to time. She wasn’t certain how long this could last, though. Her parents kept telling her to come and visit, but the plane tickets back home would push her over the precarious edge. She was making money, but it wasn’t enough to save more than a handful of change every paycheck.
What was she going to do? Go back to school, so she could get a new, better job? The thought of all that debt made her cringe. And what if she didn’t end up with a job afterward?
Cara stirred, giving a short cry before she lifted her head and put it back down. Her eyes blinked open and, at the sight of Misty, she broke into a big, toothless smile. Misty’s heart eased at the sight and she lifted her daughter out of the crib.
Another bout of laughter made her cringe, though. Suddenly, she didn’t want to be in the house. Didn’t want the noise of everything. She just wanted to be able to think without interruption. So, she quickly changed and
fed Cara, then buckled her into her car seat and grabbed the diaper bag.
“Hey guys,” she said brightly as she came out of the room. “I’m going to the store, anybody need anything?”
Penny lifted her hand. “Tampons, please. You know the kind I like?”
Misty nodded. “Yup. Anything else? Maybe some condoms for whoever’s having sex tonight?”
“Why do you always think of sex?” Sylvia rolled her eyes. “Besides, it’s the medieval era; there aren’t any condoms.”
At that, Indulf chuckled. The other housemates were under the impression that he was a history professor, not the king of a fantasy world. “Actually, there have been instances of condoms throughout history. The use of intestines was popular.”
Misty couldn’t help but laugh at the horror on Sylvia’s face. She collected the money from Penny and then headed out. Cara babbled to herself as they drove, and Misty rolled down her window, letting the cool air soothe her headache. After the grocery store, where she picked up a sandwich for supper, she drove to a park and sat at a picnic table while the light of the sun slowly faded into the glow of street lights.
“Well, baby girl, I guess it’s time to go home.” Misty wrapped her fingers in Cara’s hands as her baby kicked and gurgled. She hadn’t expected that babies could be so vocal when they weren’t crying, but Cara talked all the time.
Being a mom was hard. Three months in and every day she had to drag herself away from her baby so that she could work and get enough money to take care of them. Thank God the other girls at the house were all okay with having a baby around. They were all single and didn’t have to put up with getting woken up in the middle of the night.
Well, Anna wasn’t single, and she did have a baby, but she didn’t live with them anymore. She just stopped by regularly. It must be nice to have a rich dragon king to take care of you; she maintained the rent of her room even though she didn’t live in it anymore.
If Volcant knew about his daughter…
Misty shook her head and adjusted Cara so she was sitting up. Volcant didn’t care. Either that, or he was missing and nobody had seen him in a year. Just because she didn’t believe that was the case, didn’t mean that it wasn’t a possibility. And if he was missing, possibly dead, then she shouldn’t think such cruel thoughts about him.
Still. If he was here and he did know about Cara, maybe things would be different. Maybe she would be getting some extra help. Enough that she didn’t have to work such long hours to keep them afloat. Time to be with her daughter every day instead of having to work.
Or, who knew? Maybe Volcant would snatch Cara away from her, declaring that she couldn’t take care of a dragon in a world without magic and she’d never see her baby again.
In any case, Volcant was not of concern. She couldn’t dream about having a rich, attractive man to support her.
“Us women, we take care of ourselves,” Misty told Cara. “Right? If we have a rich man that’s all well and good, but we still look after our own damn selves. Otherwise, we end up trapped with silk ropes and a gilded cage.”
Cara grinned and laughed.
“The problem,” Misty continued, softer now. “Is that Mommy can be a real idiot when it comes to men. Your dad had all the warning signs. Charm poured on me just moments after he had been going through my computer. I ought to have known he was trying to seduce information out of me. But I always do that. Fall for the bad boy with his charms and his cocky smirk and the lust burning in his eyes. If I want a forever man, I have to stop looking for him in one-night-stands.”
She sighed. It had been a year since she had been with a guy and she was starting to get into the ‘desperate’ phase of her romance cycles. If it wasn’t for the emotional support her friends gave her, she probably would have fallen for another bad boy by now and trapped herself either in another pregnancy or a relationship where she gave him all and he gave her scraps back—like every other relationship she had been in.
But she did have her friends. She did have the support of her parents, too. Things might be tight right now, but she knew that her step-dad would wire her money without her mom knowing. And that her mom, rather than looking down at her for asking for money, would simply become a basket case of worry about it.
Misty smiled, feeling her tense muscles relax. She didn’t have any vacation time, but maybe she could convince at least her mom to come out and visit again. She had stayed the first two weeks after Cara’s birth, sleeping in Anna’s room. Maybe they could arrange for that again.
As the worries and stress of the day started to wash away with the last bits of sun, a figure stumbled into the park.
He was tall, taller than most people around here, with skin the color of the night. Misty got to her feet, watching him as he swayed in a drunken manner. When he looked up and a streetlamp caught his face, her breath left her lungs.
“Volcant?”
His head swiveled toward her. His eyes narrowed, and he stood there, staring at her, for a long time. Then his knees buckled, and he dropped.
Misty cradled Cara to her chest as she rushed over. Her heart pounded in her ears and a myriad of questions turned over in her mind. How? Why? After a year of being supposedly missing, why did he show up in the same park as she was?
“Volcant.” She peered at him as she got closer, making sure it was him. There was no doubt in her mind, so she fell to one knee beside him and reached out, still cradling Cara. “Are you alright?”
His head lifted. White teeth flashed, and a snarl broke from his throat. “You!”
Misty reeled back from the hatred blazing in his eyes. She opened her mouth to demand what was happening, but he lunged. His hands fastened around her arms and he dragged her to her feet. As she cried out in protest, he pressed a knife to her throat. Misty bit back a scream and froze.
“Let’s go.” Volcant’s eyes still held nothing but that blazing hatred. Cara started to cry, and Misty desperately tried to soothe her as Volcant turned her around and shoved her towards the vehicle.
“Volcant, it’s me,” she whispered, her throat so dry that she could hardly speak. “It’s me.”
“I know it’s you. Why do you think I’m doing this, traitor?”
Traitor? She glanced back at him, feeling the knife at her back. She slowed when she saw that behind the hatred in his eyes was a glassy confusion. She licked her lips—did he even know what he was doing? They got to the car and he made to take Cara, but she drew back.
“She needs to be in her car seat if we’re going to drive anywhere.”
“Stop stalling!”
Misty frowned. He might have a knife and he might be acting crazy, but she wasn’t going to put her daughter at risk! “And what if we crash, genius? I’m not going to let her go flying through the windshield! And put that knife away. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you’re not going to hurt me.”
She spoke with much more confidence than she felt, but that didn’t matter. The important thing was that the knife did lower a couple of inches and the hatred in his eyes was replaced by confusion. He grunted.
“Why are you so certain I won’t hurt you?” His tone was almost pleading.
Now didn’t seem like the time to bring up their history, so Misty shrugged. “I’m friends with your queen.”
The hatred came rushing back. “The queen? The queen is dead! And you know that because you’re the one who killed her.”
Chapter Four
Volcant
The queen’s friend. That’s what she said. But the queen was dead. Assassinated. Murdered by people who wanted to take over the kingdom and overthrow Indulf. He wasn’t going to let that stand. This woman, she was the key to finding the princess. She was the key to tracking down and taking out every single one of those filthy assassins.
Something pricked in his heart as the woman put the baby she carried into—what was it? — the car seat. His head whirled, making up look down and down look up. It made the back of his br
ain throb with pain. Every inch of him felt like it was being torn apart. From the battle. He’d fought against the assassins and had saved his young king, but he hadn’t been able to save the queen.
“There.” The woman stepped back and shut the door of the car before turning to him. She glanced at his knife with fear in her eyes, but not enough fear. Was she a witch, counting on her magic not to bleed if he cut her? “Why don’t you put that away? We’re friends, Volcant. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but—”
He seized her arm and spun her around, pushing her through the open door into the car. Moving quickly so she didn’t get any funny ideas, he slid into the back. Next to the baby.
“We are not friends.”
Her face was the one that kept flashing through his mind. And perhaps, somewhere in the haze of thoughts, he remembered kissing her. But she said she was the queen’s friend and everybody knew that the queen was dead. He was here hunting the assassins. She must look familiar because she was one of them.
And the baby… there was something about it…
“Drive,” he ordered.
She obeyed, her hands clenched on the wheel. So, she was more frightened than she was letting on. Classic assassin behavior. “Indulf is at the house. He’ll be able to explain—”
“I’m not stupid. I’ll not let you trick me into driving into your den of assassins, so that you can kill me. No. You will go where I say you go.”
His head pounded a little harder, but he knew where to take them. There was a motel, where Indulf had set him up before. When? A frown crossed his face as his vision swayed, but he pushed it aside. So his memories were a little fuzzy. It only meant that he had been attacked.
They got to the motel quickly and Volcant bought a room at the front desk, since the key he tried didn’t work. Once they were inside the room, safe from any unannounced attacks, he sank onto the bed and peered more closely at the assassin and the baby now in her arms again.