It wasn’t a dragon anymore. It was a man, bruised and bleeding, his clothes ragged and his skin burnt.
It was Bael, and without thinking about what she was doing, Kett threw herself on him and wrapped her arms around him, sobbing in relief. He was alive. He was alive, not burnt to death or stabbed or shot, he was alive, still breathing-
“Kett?” Eithne asked doubtfully. “Who’s that?”
Ket looked down at the unconscious man in her arms, his clothes tattered and his skin smeared with blood, ash and dirt.
She pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. “The man who nearly killed me,” she said.
Chapter Seventeen
“It was an ambush,” Angie said, her pale hands wrapped around a cup of hot tea as she sat at the breakfast table. Small and white, wearing Beyla’s clothes and a blanket around her shoulders, she looked utterly lost in Nuala’s grand salon.
It was far too late for breakfast but none of them had risen much before noon. Angie had been the only one of their midnight visitors strong enough to get out of bed. Her father, Bill the landlord, had suffered severe burns but he was still alive, which was more than she could say for several of the other villagers Bael had brought south in the dragon cabin.
“A man came into the pub. An off-Realmer. Had an accent but I couldn’t tell you what. Long scar down his face, like this.” She traced a finger down her face. Kett forced herself to stay still.
“He said he was looking for the ranch, so Durgan and Olaf said they’d walk him up there. And then we…we heard this screaming…”
Her knuckles were white. Angie had witnessed her fair share of pub brawls, had even helped break up a few, but right now she looked as if she’d seen hell.
“We went up there…some of the regulars and me, we thought maybe Olaf and Durgan’d had one too many, or maybe he was trying to rob them or something, we didn’t know. But then these men appeared…we didn’t even see where from…”
She dragged in a harsh breath. Kett couldn’t manage to look at anyone. Neither Olaf nor Durgan had been among the survivors.
“It was so instant. One minute they were running and the next they weren’t. Fast shots, right to the head. Must have been professionals. They seemed really determined to get up the road to the ranch. We all tried to hold them off, everyone in the pub came out to help, but there were too many of them and there were only five of us by then, and Jarven.” She looked up at Kett. “Bael said he’d brought Jarven here, is he…?”
“He’ll be okay,” Kett said. “Eventually.”
“He was amazing,” Angie said. “He can really fight. Was he a soldier once?”
Kett purposefully didn’t look at her parents or siblings, who all knew about the Order’s elite company of Knights. “A Knight,” she said truthfully.
“He fought them, but they really laid into him. And then-” She screwed her face up, her eyes closed. “Then I think one of them released the dragons. They kept saying…”
Angie opened her eyes and looked at Kett. “They kept saying they wanted you. That if we told them where the shapeshifter was they’d go. And by then everything was on fire, the dragons had blasted one of the cottages and it was spreading…and people were screaming…”
Nuala touched Angie’s arm and the younger woman sucked in a breath that was more of a sob. Kett nodded automatically but her brain was racing.
Bael’s men. She couldn’t deny it; the man with the scarred face haunted her. How had they moved so fast? How had they known where to go?
The Federación. Realization hit her like an arrow in the back. Who else would have the training, the manpower, the resources and, let’s face it, the determined interest in nonhuman abilities?
Bael’s men were Federación.
But he’d seemed so terrified of the organization…
“…must have hit me because I don’t remember anything else after that, until I woke up in their wagon, all tied up with the others. They kept demanding to know which one of us was the shapeshifter, but when we said you weren’t there they didn’t believe us.”
And now Olaf and Durgan were dead, and countless villagers too-thank the gods it was only a tiny hamlet-and Angie, bruised and battered, was the healthiest of the remaining survivors. The others had been burnt, cut, stabbed and slashed, and Nuala had been white-faced as she’d dealt with them.
Jarven was badly hurt. And Bael…
He’d been breathing softly and evenly when she’d left him that morning. Having spent the night alternately cursing and praying, she’d woken to spend about ten minutes just staring at him. He was beautiful in sleep, his hair dark against his white skin, a livid bruise across his cheek the only color in his face.
He’s hurt because of me.
But then I’m hurt because of him.
She wiped her hands across her face. “Right. And then what happened?”
“How did you escape?” Tane asked.
Angie took in a deep breath and let it out. “We didn’t, sir,” she said. “We were rescued. I was dozing, and I heard this absolutely maddened roar, like a dragon, and I thought, oh hell, it’s one of the ones from the ranch.”
“Just a sec,” Kett interrupted. “The only dragons we have loose are the ones we trust not to go loopy. What happened?”
“I don’t know. Maybe all the fighting unsettled them,” Angie said. “Or maybe the others were let loose by the men who attacked us.”
“What sort of numpty lets an untrained dragon loose?” Kett scowled.
“A desperate one,” Tyrnan said. “What happened after that, Angie?”
“Well, sir, then the wagon was suddenly lifted up into the air and we all went tumbling over, and I’m afraid I passed out again,” Angie said, looking embarrassed. “And the next thing I knew, this man was standing there, looking like he’d just come straight from hell, telling me it would all be all right and that he’d come to help us. And I thought he looked like your young man,” she turned to Kett, who grimaced while all the others grinned, “but he was so covered with soot and ash and it was dark, and I wasn’t quite sure. And, well, by then my pa had woken up and he, er, didn’t realize we were being rescued, so he, well…gave him a piece of his mind.”
Kett winced.
“That would explain Bael’s bruises,” Nuala murmured.
“Yes, your highness. And he looked like he’d been fighting previously, too, he had a sword and he was bleeding. Anyway, I eventually recognized him, so he untied me and I saw-well, what was left of the men who’d attacked us.”
“What was left?” Tyrnan asked.
“He’d brought a dragon with him, sir,” Angie said, evidently unaware of Var’s shape-changing abilities. “And it, er,” she glanced at Nuala and the girls, apparently trying to protect their delicate sensibilities. Kett snorted. Half an hour in a room with Tyrnan of Emreland and most ladies quickly adjusted such sensibilities.
“I’m guessing he didn’t sit them down and explain to them the errors of their ways,” Nuala said.
“I’m guessing he turned them into barbecue,” Tyrnan said.
“You guess correctly, sir.” Angie swallowed. “He untied everyone else then and got his dragon to pick up the wagon and…well. Then he brought us here. Is he all right?”
“Five by five,” Kett said distantly. Bael had rescued them all? Deliberately? Well, maybe he’d just happened upon them, but she didn’t suppose it was very likely.
Why? If it had been his men who’d attacked the village, why had he rescued them?
Still completely disgusted with herself for spending half the night crying over a man who was possibly-well, probably-involved with the Federación, she reached for more coffee and wondered whether Nuala would allow her to raid the sideboard for something to add to it.