Dragonkin: Storms Read online

  Something about it rustled his nerves and made him turn back to the light. The thunderstorm raged outside. The rain-spattered glass bowed from the power of the wind. They had stood up to worse turbulence over the last century. Outside, blackness swirled where the horizon met the waves. Something was wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but somewhere out in the storm something wasn’t right.

  * * * *

  “Can’t you feel it?” Savanna asked the boat captain.

  “It’s just a little storm. Nothing to worry about. I’ve seen it before. This is nothing compared to the squalls I’ve been through. Just go back to your little party and entertain or whatever it was you were hired to do.”

  “But you don’t understand. Something —”

  He turned from the wheel. “Didn’t you hear me the first time? Get the fuck off my bridge.” The captain growled at her and turned his attention back to steering the ship.

  Savanna’s mouth hardened into a scowl. He wasn’t going to listen to her no matter how many times she warned him. She strolled off the bridge and turned back to the bachelorette party inside the boat. It was more of a small yacht, really. As the bachelorette party watched the strippers, Savanna was supposed to be doing psychic readings. However, no one was paying any attention to her. They were all worried about Stefan, or whatever his name was, shaking his scantily clad, sweaty balls in the bride-to-be’s face and swooning. She turned her head away in disgust from the scene. Half naked, oiled-up men were never her thing, at least not when she was in work mode. Instead, she focused on the water and the frigid breeze as it tossed the boat. They hugged the Finger Islands as the captain toured the coastline. Even the birds were smart enough not to leave their nests within the cliffs. The lighthouse’s beacon spun, gracing the boat with its light. Savanna basked in the warmth of it for a few seconds before she caught the chill again that shot down her spine and settled deep within her spirit.

  Something was wrong with this storm.

  She couldn’t put her finger on the tingle in the air that wrapped her nerves the wrong way. Savanna had experienced this sensation a few times before. Something disastrous would happen in the world around her. Her mother had always called it the knowing, and it ran in her family. Others proclaimed her a witch because she had some kind of affinity for the weather. She knew when it would rain, or when something was amiss. Savanna could feel the force of the weather around them, but never understood what the ability was for. Times like tonight she knew the makeup of a perfect storm. If she hadn’t needed the money, she wouldn’t be out on the boat, but bills had to be paid.

  She gripped the railing and stared into the agitated sea. Something captured her attention. In the little bit of light, Savanna saw a form in the mist. She squinted against the violent spray that stung her eyes. It appeared to be the shape of some flying animal. Whatever it was, it was lost once the light passed by them. The form glided past her, the mist brushing her arm. It headed toward the rocks, and a force was within it. Her soul ran cold.

  At that moment, the boat pitched to the left, throwing her backward into the metal wall of the captain’s cabin. It rolled back, and Savanna grabbed a hold of the railing, catching herself from going overboard. At the same time, a crack of lightning divided the sky and hit the cliff in an explosion of rock. The illumination showed off the mansion on the precipice.

  Blackmore. The blight of the town, or so everyone said. The people blamed anything bad that occurred in the town on the curse brought on by the Blackmores. Savanna didn’t see an accursed place. She saw a great piece of history falling into disrepair.

  It was well known that the son had a construction company. Rumors speculated he was fixing it up. Some thought that was a good idea, and others assumed it would spread a darkness over the town. She didn’t think repairing the landmark would blight the city. The loud thumping bass from the bridal party spilled out onto the deck boat when one of the bridesmaids burst through the door, laughing and dropping her champagne. The woman draped herself over one of the strippers as she humped him. Savanna shook her head in disgust.

  A large wave swept over the side of the boat and rocked it to the right. The woman laughed, and Savanna lost her grip on the railing. Another wave sloshed over the side of the boat and caught her up in it as the captain swerved to avoid something else. She tried to scream, but the coldness of the water forced itself down her throat. She tried to grab hold of the rail, but the slippery surface of the boat made it impossible. Savanna caught a few of the rivets in the hull. Pain speared her fingers as her nails tore from trying to hold on. Panic drowned her brain as she spit the water out and cried for help. It was too late. The hard impact of the ocean knocked the air from her lungs. Cold and darkness embraced her and the water took her under.

  Chapter Two

  Drake stood at the top of the lighthouse and stared into the storm. Water splashed around the lighthouse, but this tempest had a different feeling. He couldn’t quite explain it. It reminded him of olden times, when he would roll around with the winds and he could understand the language of the storm. Ever since he lost his way from his home, he had settled into the world he survived in.

  And that was all he did.

  At first he had nothing. The people who found him were primitive and terrified of his true form. It had taken Drake a while to understand they had no use of magic. The knowledge that he had would be lost. He learned to adapt and stay in his human form, which constricted him. As years passed and the weight of the world grew too cumbersome, he slept. During one of those times, he had been woken by a man named Blackmore. The man hadn’t been frightened of him.

  Drake discovered the world around him much changed. Humans had evolved. The world was brimming with people and energy. When the man had awakened Drake, the dragon had sensed no fear within the human. Drake realized that he needed to become a part of this new world. That decision had meshed his destiny with the Blackmores. Drake sighed and gazed out into the darkened sea. The past was behind him, and nothing could change it.

  The power of the tempest called to the dragon buried deep within him. The beast stirred from the sound of the crashing waves pounding into the lighthouse. It had been a long time since Drake felt his other half wake from slumber. He winced at the brilliance of the lighthouse’s light, but the heat chased away the wind’s chill. Drake peered into the heart of the light but didn’t wince at the artificial flame. When the place was first built an actual fire had provided the beacon to guide the ships. Those were simpler days he missed.

  Out of the corner of his eye, something caught his attention. A large form, descended from the clouds in the shape of an enormous dragon. His senses told him the visage had to be a trick of the light. But no, the dragon part of him said, it had a purpose. Power was in it. He followed its path as it flew to the cliffs, heading toward the manor. As he watched it, he caught sight of how the waves sloshed over the side of a charter boat. Drake turned away from it to follow as the shape smashed into the rocks. The waves rolled over it, but within seconds it arose from the rocks, brushed its great wings across the cliff near the mansion, and dipped toward the ship. Drake saw the ship chugging back toward the shore.

  The mist dragon wavered on the wind and nearly disappeared into the beacon, but it swung around. Vaporous wings touched his cheek. The zing of power that speared him made him realize this wasn’t something of this world. If there was magic here, it was locked away. Drake had never really witnessed it except in meeting those few humans that had an otherness about them. They called them psychics or witches. He had been used to spellcasters, wizards who could manipulate the world around them. They had fought side by side in many battles. In this world no such thing existed. The light passed and the form returned to the clouds. This portent meant something. He just didn’t know what. Drake gripped the slippery railing and took in a deep breath, a little bit of his tension easing. It was a strange feeling, as though something in him slipped.

  He closed his eyes and
let the wind caress his face. Drake remembered the days when it would tickle his scales. For a moment he could almost pretend he was back in his original form. A blast moved him back a few steps, but the power passed over him until it was completely gone. When he opened his eyes, Drake saw something sprawled on the rocks below him in the shape of a body. He didn’t think much of it until he realized it was not a trick of the light. It was a person. Sometimes that happened when a corpse washed up on the rocks. Drake almost dismissed it, but he thought about what had happened and decided to investigate instead of contacting the authorities.

  Drake wound down the spiraled metal staircase that precariously clung to the inside of the cylindrical structure. He braced himself against the battering wind and rising water. If he had been in his other form, then the water and the wind would have bowed down before him, knowing he was the majestic beast that ruled the air and the seas. All elements would worship him, along with the rest of the other dragons, but he had resigned himself that he would never see his kind again. Drake shook off the surge of anger and went out to the prostate form sprawled on the rocks. The chill in the air sliced through his clothes and scraped at his skin. Normally, the elements didn’t bother him, but it was somewhat chillier than it should have been. The tourist season was winding down. He figured the body might be one of them. No one in their right mind, not even the captain of that boat, should be out on the seas tonight, but there were people apparently who didn’t listen to the weatherman. He snorted the water from his nose and focused back on the corpse.

  A woman.

  Her flesh was cold to the touch. Under the light, blood matted her hair. Wonderful. I’ll call in the authorities and have them pick up her body. I hate dealing with humans, no matter how little interaction I have with them. He scooped up the corpse. When she moaned, he nearly dropped her. Drake had assumed she was good as dead, but she clung to life. She started to tremble. He hugged her close to his chest, letting the heat of his body warm her. He burned hotter than normal humans. His dragon may have been sleeping, but certain aspects of his anatomy didn’t change and his body temperature was one of them. Drake struggled to get her inside the lighthouse. When he did, he kicked open the swinging door that separated the lighthouse from his actual living quarters.

  Once he got into his bedroom, he laid her on the bed and threw some logs on the fire. Drake closed his eyes and summoned the fire within him. That much of his heritage was still at his fingertips. Heat flushed him, and he flung the ball that gathered in his palm at the wood. They exploded into a blaze. Satisfied it would stay lit, Drake concentrated on the woman. Her breathing was shallow. He stripped off his jacket, shirt, and pants, so he wouldn’t make her any colder. Her lips were blue. Her face ashen. The labored breathing alerted him some water was in her lungs. She was close to death, getting to the point where he could just let her pass on. As he studied her tangled mass of hair, something was roused within him. Drake gritted his teeth. He wasn’t that much of a cold hearted bastard to let her die.

  She wasn’t much dressed for the harsh weather. She was in a red blouse and a black skirt. He lifted her up against him and fumbled to get her soaking blouse over her head. Drake threw it by the fire to worry about it later. Next he pulled off her skirt and tried to untie the knots in her boots, but the water had swollen them. Not budging, he clutched them and with a little bit of strength ripped the laces until they snapped. He yanked them off, along with her stockings, and left her in her bra and panties. Once she was disrobed, he grabbed a few of the old blankets he had and spread them over her. Most important thing was raising her body temperature and then seeing if she sustained any injuries. Once she was underneath the blankets, he examined her head. He had picked up a few things in his long life.

  Drake grabbed a cloth and some alcohol. He was able to clean the gash, and he didn’t feel like her skull was cracked, so she wouldn’t die from her head injury. It was just a matter of getting the bleeding to stop. When he was sure of that, he took stock of her other injuries. Her face was scratched up from rubbing against the rocks and the waves dragging her through the water. Some were deep and he figured they would scar, but color had returned to her face and her lips as she warmed up. Her breathing had gotten better. He lifted her up once more and hit her on the back. She coughed, and water spilled over her lips. Drake patted her back a few more times until the rattle in her lungs stopped. He grabbed another blanket and tucked it over her. After that, Drake set her clothes on a rack to dry by the fireplace and went into the kitchen to put on some coffee and soup.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Three

  Savanna opened her eyes slowly. The small amount of light made her wince and groan. She tried to sit up, but the room spun. God, what happened to me? Every part of her body ached. And she was cold. Her head pounded the longer she tried to move, but the light hurt her worse than anything. She shut her eyes against the illumination.

  “Hey, hey. Don’t try to move,” a male voice said next to her. Savanna wanted to open her eyes again, but she didn’t want to be stabbed with the light, so she kept them closed. “You got a pretty nasty bump on the head.”

  “Where am I?”

  “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  She had been on the dock, getting ready for a party. Then there was cold and darkness. She tried to recall more, but it was all a blur. “I was getting ready to do a bridal shower on this charter boat and then...I don’t know.”

  Something touched her forehead. A soft, cool cloth eased her anxiety. “You’re very lucky to be alive. You’ve been unconscious for a couple of days. A storm blew up two nights ago, and it still hasn’t calmed down enough for me to get you some help. I’ve been making sure you’ve stayed with us. Drink this.”

  A cup was placed against her mouth. Her savior’s hand slipped underneath her head and lifted it. The small pressure made her head spin, but her throat was dry. When the cool water spilled over her lips, Savanna swallowed a bit of it before hot bile crept up her throat, and she had to lie her head back down. After a few long, drawn out breaths, she was able to beat the nausea. “Thank you,” she forced out.

  “It’s fine. From what I can guess, you have a concussion. It’s going to be tough for you to raise your head, you’ll feel queasy, maybe lose a bit of your memory, and see stars, but that seems to be the worst of your injuries. You have a few scrapes and bruises from where you fell off the boat.”

  “I fell off a boat?” How had she fallen off the ship? What happened with the party? “I was booked to do readings for a huge bridal shower on a charter boat. I went down to the marina and then...” She tried to think of what happened after that, but she wasn’t sure.

  “It’s okay. Memory loss is one of the side effects of a concussion.”

  “How do you know so much about concussions?” She tried to open one of her eyes to look at the man who had saved her. The light speared her pupil, and she hissed in a quick breath.

  “I haven’t always been a lighthouse keeper,” he chuckled.

  She heard regret and longing in the chuckle and in his response. There was something else, too, but her brain was too foggy to catch it. “Oh, my head!” Savanna squeezed her eyes shut. Itchy fabric touched her bare skin. When she felt her torso, she couldn’t find her clothes, not even her bra and panties. “Where are my clothes?” she said, wincing at the panic in her voice.

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t take advantage of you. You came in here soaking wet and cold to the bone. I took your clothes off to dry them and make sure you were getting warmer. Once you were, I undressed the rest of you to make sure that you were not hurt anywhere else. I washed everything so you would have something to wear. You don’t have to worry about me getting frisky with you. I’m an honorable man.”

  “Yeah, sure you are.” She pulled her hand out from underneath the blankets and touched her hair. The air was warm outside of the blankets. Savanna raked her fingers through her hair and caught the spot
where she had banged her skull. She winced when she felt the other jagged lines on her cheeks and forehead. “How bad is it?”

  “Your face?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nothing that won’t heal. I didn’t see any broken bones. You might have pulled or strained something. Can you open your eyes for a second?”

  She shook her head. “No. The light hurts too much.”

  “Okay. What’s your name?”

  “Savanna Collins. Who are you?”

  “I’m Drake.”

  “Just Drake. No last name, like Cher or Madonna?”

  “I just go by Drake. I’m...the lighthouse keeper.”

  She snuggled under the blankets. Her stomach growled, and she had the urge to use the bathroom. The idea of getting up and actually moving made her woozy. Hearing him say he was the lighthouse keeper made her realize where she was. The lighthouse on Finger Island. It had always been a mystery who ran it and who kept it up. Now she was inside of it, and she wondered what the man who rescued her looked like. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for saving my life. Although I hate to ask you, can you help me to the bathroom?” She doubted that anyone wanted to hear that question. “I don’t need any help in that department, but any kind of light hurts my eyes. If you could just show me where it is.”

  “Right. It’s not far. Hold on.” Savanna heard shuffling. Drake returned and put something soft in her hand. “This is one of my shirts. It should fit you. I’m going to help you put it on, okay?”