The Dragon Prophecy Page 5

  Then why does the name Eorricris sound so familiar?

  What he’d said earlier was true. He really didn’t have any idea how to spell it, yet, it seemed to roll off his tongue without effort.

  “Eorricris,” he whispered, the vapor from his breath causing a small, round, foggy circle to form on the window.

  As if she’d heard him, Tirvu’s head rose, and she opened her eyes, staring directly at him. He gasped at the topaz-blue orbs that glowed the same color they had when she’d saved him from the demon.

  He wanted to move away from the window, but it seemed his feet had been set in concrete. Their gazes locked, and his breath caught in his throat as his heart thundered in his chest. The room suddenly became very warm, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

  She stared at him for a long moment, then rose onto all four legs. He guessed she stood about seven feet tall, the muscles in her body rolling beneath her skin, reminding him of the surf on an ocean shore. Her tail began thick, but then tapered down into a fine point. She flicked it around and stretched as a cat would.

  Lying back down, she glanced up at him once more, then curled up again and shut her eyes.

  Eric stepped away from the window and lay back down on the bed, his chest heaving as he tried to calm the waves of desire that rolled through him.

  He hated to admit it, but seeing Tirvu in her dragon form had become the single most erotic image he’d ever witnessed.

  7

  The next morning, Tirvu paced the living room, just as Eric had done the previous night. She watched the clock and assumed that each time the small hand passed around once, it would be considered a beat, or the passing of time in her land. If Eric didn’t rise within ten more beats, she would go wake him. Yes, she wanted him rested because one couldn’t be completely effective without proper sleep, but they had an important task to complete, and only six days to do it.

  The tenth rotation completed, she turned to the stairs, prepared to climb them and look into each room until she found Eric. To her surprise, he stood on the top landing, rubbing his eyes.

  “I feared you would sleep the rest of the day away,” she said with a grin.

  The Eric, or Eorricris, she knew preferred to sleep in, as well, while she believed the best things happened in the early morning hours. A pang of longing for home hit her as she recalled the suns rising and warming the forest floor of her own lands, the sweet smells reviving her from a deep slumber.

  That was before the war. Now, she rarely slept through the darkness and always woke to the smell of blood.

  “The sun just came up,” Eric replied as he came down the stairs. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

  She shook her head. “No. We must hurry. I prefer to begin the search right away.”

  “Let me at least get some coffee in me, okay?”

  With a sigh of frustration, she stepped aside so he could pass, and she followed him into the kitchen. White cabinets with purple etchings of flowers greeted her. The white countertops sparkled clean while the table had been covered with a flowered tablecloth. It struck her as homey, a comfortable place to be.

  Because she’d spent so many centuries trying to communicate with him, she’d become quite accustomed to the human world. When she gazed at it from her own realm, it was like she looked down a long cylinder. Her view had been highly focused as she concentrated on Eric, but she had caught many of the human rituals, such as this consummation of coffee in the morning.

  Eric usually drank three cups, black. The bitter smell did nothing to entice her as it dripped into the glass pot. She didn’t fully understand how the liquid made a difference in one’s life, but since she was here, she decided to find out.

  “I would like a cup, as well, please.”

  Eric nodded and reached up into the cabinet and pulled down a purple mug that reminded her of the daylight sky in her world, and she sighed, guessing the empty feeling in her stomach could be attributed to homesickness.

  When the pot had filled, he poured two cups and handed one to her.

  She brought the mug to her lips as he sipped his, the scent a vicious assault on her nose.

  “Oh, that tastes good,” Eric murmured as he shut his eyes.

  The hot, bitter liquid burned her tongue as her face contorted in disgust. What in the world was pleasant about this awful brew?

  “I take it you don’t have coffee in your world.”

  She looked up at Eric, who stared at her with twinkling eyes and a grin as if he’d just witnessed something terribly funny.

  Setting her mug on the counter, she shook her head. “No, we don’t. And I must say, I’m grateful for that.”

  He turned and opened the refrigerator. “Try it with a little milk. That softens the taste a bit.”

  As he poured, the black liquid became a tawny color. She reached for the mug hesitantly, then took another sip. Now this, she could stomach, but it still didn’t taste as wonderful as Eric made it out to be.

  “Probably some sugar. You look like you’re a sugar type of woman,” Eric said.

  He found a box, then pulled out a spoon from a drawer. Dipping the spoon into the box, he came out with a heaping of white granules and dumped them into her mug. After stirring, he motioned for her to try the concoction.

  As the coffee slid down her throat this time, she didn’t taste any of the bitterness. In fact, she enjoyed the drink very much.

  “This is very good,” she said. “I like this.”

  Eric grinned, but didn’t meet her gaze. “I was right. A sugar girl, you are.”

  They drank in silence, leaning up against the counter. No matter how much she was enjoying her newfound love of coffee and being in close proximity to Eric, they needed to get moving.

  Tirvu handed him her mug. “We shall have one more cup each, and then we shall leave.”

  “I want to walk along the edge of town,” Eric said. “In the forest where we can’t be seen by anyone.”

  “Why is that?”

  His gaze flitted over to her, then he cleared his throat as if embarrassed. “Because you’re naked.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. As Eorricris, he’d always been attracted to her human form, as well as her dragon. Did Eric feel differently?

  Steeling herself for the answer, she asked, “What is wrong with my human form? Why shouldn’t others see me as I am?”

  He rubbed the top of his head before meeting her stare. “There’s nothing wrong with it, Tirvu. It’s … it’s nice. You’re very pretty. But, here in the human realm, we don’t walk around naked out in public. We have no idea what the authorities are doing in town. For all we know, they’re grabbing anyone who doesn’t look fully human and locking them up. Until we get into town and I can get you some clothes, we need to keep you hidden.”

  Although she looked as human as any other woman, her skin was paler, and her eyes a bit brighter. Most human women did not make public appearances without clothing, so she understood his point.

  “Very well,” she replied. “Gloria said there is a place that sells clothing close to the Historical Museum. We can find some there.”

  “Exactly. Then, you can walk around without issue, and we don’t have to hide from anyone.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him staring at her legs, his longing gaze making its way up over her hip to her waist. Her hair covered her breasts, as was custom in her land.

  She turned her back to him because she couldn’t hide her smile. He may not remember what they’d had all those centuries ago, but he obviously still found her attractive.

  * * *

  An hour later, Tirvu walked behind Eric, a small grin on her face. She found it amusing she could turn into a dragon at a moment’s notice, yet, Eric insisted that he take the lead. She hadn’t bothered to point out the ridiculousness of his plan, or to remind him how she’d been the one to save him from a demon. Instead, she allowed him to take the more dominant role.

  In their secret time
together all those centuries ago, he’d been the same way. Of course, back then, he’d been an alpha dragon, one of immense strength and power. As a Sky Protector, his wingspan alone had topped eight feet. What a beautiful sight he’d been as he glided through the purple sky!

  Perhaps it was the two cups of coffee she’d drunk, but it seemed as though every nerve ending throughout her body pulsated and hummed as she glanced around the forest. Her sixth sense didn’t detect anyone who would want to hurt them, and she came to the conclusion that Eric’s idea of staying away from town had been an intelligent one. Traveling through the day had also been a good call. The vampires preferred the night, and demons tended to keep a low profile, as well. Although she liked to stick to a plant-based diet, she’d eat a werewolf without a second thought, and fairies and the rest of the paranormal species tended to leave those like her, the stronger ones, alone.

  Eric stopped and held up his hand, indicating she should, as well.

  “I think we’re getting close,” he whispered. “I’m going to head toward town and see where we’re at.”

  She longed to follow him, knowing that if he did run into trouble, he’d need her. The demon attack on him last night had proven that, in his current human form, he was no match for the paranormal entities that had invaded this world.

  Yet, she chose to stay put, determined to wait for him.

  Crouching on the forest floor, she lifted a handful of dirt to her nose and sniffed. The damp smell reminded her of home a little, yet, the scent didn’t hold the same sweetness as her own land. In fact, if she added a bit of the sugar she’d dumped into her coffee earlier, it may come close.

  To her right, small, round fruit caught her eye, their color a dark blue, and her stomach growled with hunger. She grabbed a few and popped them into her mouth, grinning as the sugary flavor burst against her tongue. She reached out for more.

  Sitting down, she wondered what could be taking Eric so long. As she ate, she listened for danger and sniffed the air for the trace of anything that wanted to do her harm. She hadn’t lied when she said she’d gladly rip out a demon’s insides and bathe in its blood, even if it did reek of rotting flesh and sulfur. If it hadn’t been for them, her world wouldn’t be in chaos, but in harmony. She’d kill every last one if given the opportunity.

  She hadn’t murdered the demon from last night because she knew that if she fully turned into a dragon, she’d simply be drawing attention to herself, something she didn’t want at that point. Besides, Eric would have most likely run from her, which she couldn’t have blamed him for. If one had never seen a dragon, she imagined it could be quite frightening.

  She heard footsteps and jumped to her feet, ready to change into her dragon form and kill, if necessary.

  “Tirvu!” Eric whispered as he emerged from the foliage. “It’s me!”

  He approached, his arms outstretched. She took the garment he handed her and held it up, then frowned.

  “You want me to wear this?” she asked.

  The pink and green flowered dress seemed as if it would be large enough for her, but those definitely weren’t the colors a warrior would wear.

  “It’s the only thing in the store that looked like it would fit. I don’t know anything about sizes, so I just grabbed what I thought would work.”

  She slipped it over her head as Eric turned away from her.

  “Was anyone in the store?” she asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder, then bending down to grab more of the lovely berries.

  He turned to her. “No. What are you eating?”

  She pointed to the bush as she chewed.

  Eric’s eyes widened, and he leaned over the plant.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He stood and sighed. “There are plants around here that are poisonous. You can’t just eat anything. It can kill you.”

  Her eyes widened, and her stomach coiled. “Am I going to die?”

  “No,” he replied, shaking his head. “These are blueberries, which are fine. Just ask me if you run across any other plants you want to eat.”

  “Of course,” she murmured as her shoulders sagged in relief.

  Why in the world would a realm have foliage growing that could kill one of its inhabitants? It didn’t seem logical, but then, she remembered that very few humans ate from the land. They had large stores where they paid money for their food, also a strange concept to her.

  “The Historical Museum is right next to the clothing store,” Eric said. “Let’s head down there and see if we can find those diaries.”

  She followed him through the forest until they reached a clearing. A line of houses sat before them.

  “The museum’s the one on the right,” he whispered, leaning close so their shoulders touched, his face just a few inches from hers.

  She inhaled his scent, smelling a tinge of sweat mixed in with a woodsy aroma. He smelled different than he had all that time ago, but she did enjoy it.

  “We can go through the two buildings and we’ll be right at the main square again,” he went on, seemingly oblivious to her sniffing him. “Hopefully, someone will be at the museum, and we can get those diaries.”

  They continued their walk, and he grabbed her hand and almost pulled her behind him. Although his antics had amused her before, she now clamped her jaw in irritation. There simply wasn’t any reason for them to sneak around like this. She could turn into a dragon, for the sake of her gods. As far as the entities running around Saint’s Grove, she stood at the top of the food chain. Yet, Eric seemed to consistently forget this fact and acted like she was the one who needed protection.

  Indeed, very chivalrous, but highly annoying.

  The house seemed to be older than its neighbor, but it looked as if it had been well-maintained.

  They walked up to the front door, and Eric knocked. After waiting a moment, he rapped his knuckles harder, and finally, they heard footsteps from inside.

  A tall man with a long, dark ponytail answered and eyed them warily.

  “How may I assist you?”

  She tilted her head at his strange accent. Based on his clothing—a vest, pants tucked into his stockings, and a cravat—he seemed out of place, as if he didn’t belong in this time period.

  “My name’s Eric, and this is Tirvu. We understand that there are diaries of Beatrice Saint, the founder’s wife, kept here, and we were wondering if we could take a look at them.”

  He narrowed his gaze on them as if suspicious of their motives. “You wish to look at artifacts this museum holds? Have you not seen what has gone on in this town?”

  “Of course we have, and that’s why we’re here to look at the books. We think they may be able to help us.”

  “May I inquire, help you with what?”

  Time was ticking away, every beat a loud sound in her head, reminding her that each second she stood around waiting for Eric to navigate this world with manners and etiquette was a second lost.

  She pushed past him and met the man eye-to-eye. “I want to see the books right now,” she said, her voice a low growl.

  As she was about to shift to her dragon form and eat her way through the human, she knew her eyes flashed bright blue. He gasped and stepped back, obviously surprised.

  After a moment, he grinned. “Ah, I see. Another entity that has been misplaced in this mêlée. I do not wish to see what lies beneath that brilliant gaze.”

  As she entered the house, she inhaled deeply, but didn’t detect any nefarious beings. In fact, the human she’d almost eaten held the strangest scent of all, but his dress and mannerisms indicated that he didn’t belong in Saint’s Grove in this period of time, either. She determined him a misplaced being, either here by mistake or, like her, he had a mission to accomplish.

  “I’m Alexander,” he said, extending his hand to Eric, who shook it. “The diaries are in through there. We were just trying to clean up, so be careful of the glass. We haven’t got the room tidied just yet.”

  Tirvu fo
llowed his direction as Alexander and Eric trailed behind her, not surprised by the mess she encountered. The wooden and glass cases had been shattered, and artifacts lay around the room, almost as if a cyclone had moved through the house. The soles of her feet resembled leather, so she doubted any glass would penetrate them, but she still remained vigilant and took care of where she stepped.

  Eric bent down and picked up a small, brown leather tome. The binding cracked when he opened it.

  “This must be one of them,” he murmured.

  She walked over to his side and looked at the words on the page, unable to read the English language.

  “Ah, yes. You’re correct,” Alexander said. “There’s more in the back. I’ll fetch them for you.”

  As he left, he kept his gaze on her, like he expected her to rip his throat out at any moment.

  She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. If she couldn’t decipher the books, the only thing she could do was remain quiet and wait for Eric to do so.

  And still, the moments ticked away, each one precious, each one a reminder that if she didn’t find the Moonstone, her world would perish.

  8

  Eric stared at the yellowed pages with the flourished writing, excited that he held a piece of history in his grasp. He’d never visited the Historical Museum in his previous travels, and now wished he had. The weight of his task of finding Tirvu’s Moonstone seemed to grow heavier by the moment, and he hoped that by reading the diaries, he would be able to help her. He didn’t understand why, but finding that damn rock had become almost as important to him as it appeared to be to her.

  He glanced over at her. She’d gone back to the front of the house and stared out a window. She looked ridiculous in the dress. The flowered pattern reminded him of an old lady’s curtains. The garment hung on her like a tent, and he could see the curves of her body through the thin fabric against the light coming in from the pane. He pulled his gaze away as heat ripped through his body, his groin aching.