Dragon's Angel Read online




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  Champagne Books

  www.champagnebooks.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Donica Covey

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty One

  Twenty Two

  Twenty Three

  Twenty Four

  Epilogue

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  Champagne Books Presents

  Dragon's Angel

  By

  Donica Covey

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  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Champagne Books www.champagnebooks.com

  Copyright © 2007 by Donica Covey

  ISBN 978-1-897445-13-6

  October 2008

  Cover Art © Champagne Books

  Produced in Canada

  Champagne Books

  #35069-4604 37 ST SW

  Calgary, AB T3E 7C7

  Canada

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  Dedication

  To Becka for sitting up late with me, critiquing my work, encouraging me, and keeping me sane (at least trying to). And to a belfry filled with some truly amazing bats. Thanks ladies, you're the best.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  One

  Keely Morgan pulled into the parking lot behind the bar. A single white light stood on a pole in the middle of the graveled lot. Gooseflesh skittered up her spine. This was a bad idea. She'd never been here before, had never even seen it before, yet she'd inexplicably known it was here and exactly how to find it.

  Her mind hadn't been her own in days. Her dreams were filled with dark, smoky confusion; her days filled with images of green fields and unusual skies. Why come to a strange place, a bar no less. And alone? She wanted to start the engine and drive straight home but a force stronger than her will was at work.

  She got out, locked the car and followed the broken concrete sidewalk to the front. A battered sign identifying the place as the Wandering Minstrel Tavern swayed slightly in a sudden gust of wind. She briskly rubbed at the ripples of goose flesh along her skin before reaching out for the brass plated door knob.

  She pulled open the barrier and entered the room. Never having been a bar person to begin with the smell of thick smoke and stale beer nearly choked her. She needed a good strong breath to steady her nerves, but inhaling such a conglomeration of odors wasn't something she could handle.

  Keely kept a hand hovering near her nose while she made her way from the door to the bar stool nearest the exit.

  The bartender, a man in his fifties, had bushy gray eyebrows arching over dark brown eyes. He flashed her a yellow smile. “What can I get you?"

  "Just a Coke, please."

  "Sure thing."

  There weren't many people. A couple sat at a table against the far wall. They were obviously engrossed in a heavy conversation.

  An older man sat a few stools away. He was a heavyset man. His dark hair fell to his collar; a large mustache completely concealed his upper lip. He wore large metal-framed glasses, and when he looked her way, his gaze roamed down and then back up her body.

  She quickly looked away and in her nervous state almost knocked over the glass she hadn't even notice the bartender set in front of her. Her hand trembled as she lifted the Coke to her lips and sipped at it. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. She felt the invisible weight of someone watching. Using the mirror that ran the length of the wall she scanned the room.

  There, in the back of the room. A pair of golden orbs studied her. Golden? She couldn't resist the pull that dragged her off the stool. She walked past table after table—drawn on an invisible string.

  She closed the space between her and the eyes. As she plowed through the smoke, his image cleared. Those eyes belonged to a handsome man with dark coloring. He appeared to be in his early thirties.

  His eyes were actually a deep shade of emerald green. A strange golden cast circled his irises then the odd shade started to glow. It was ridiculous. She was only imagining things. Sure, it looked like his eyes were glowing. It wasn't possible. Lack of sleep. Mental decline. It was merely hallucination. Keely stiffened her backbone and gave a mental shake. She forced her gaze to lock onto his. “May I sit down?"

  He merely nodded. His dark hair lay on his shoulders in a sleek line. His jaw tightened and loosened, then a slow smile worked its way across his lips. “Well?"

  She sat across the table from him and swallowed hard. “Why am I here?"

  He studied her face. “That is a question philosophers have debated for all ages."

  "Please don't mock me. I'm serious, I need to know why I am here."

  He stared holes into her very core. “Why ask me?"

  She boldly returned his studying glare. “Because something inside me says you have the answer. For weeks I haven't been able to sleep or concentrate. Then tonight, I felt myself pulled to this bar, to this very table—with you. Please tell me, why I am here."

  "What's you're name?"

  "Keely. Keely Morgan."

  He inhaled sharply. His eyes widened; in a matter of seconds he'd recovered and his insolent attitude returned. “I have no idea who you are, or why you're here."

  "You're lying!” she hissed. “I saw it in your face!” Keely leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temple with the heel of her palm. “What's the matter with me?"

  "Maybe you need to sleep it off. I'll bid you goodnight.” With that he pushed up from the table and sauntered away.

  Keely watched him disappear through the hazy room. The world spun. Senseless word-like sounds echoed in her brain. That strange out of control sensation swamped her. She grabbed her purse and hurried after him. His long legged stride made it hard for her to catch up. Finally, out in the lot, she reached his side. “Please. I'm so confused I need your help."

  He paused to peer down at her. “Listen Keely, go home. Sleep off the drink. Call your doctor and tell him of your difficulties, your confusion. You're obviously out of your world here."

  She couldn't move away, couldn't tear her eyes from his. Suddenly there was hot searing pain in her head. “Be gone,” a voice roared in her brain. The intense throbbing made her dizzy and she jerked away. She turned and ran, not looking back, never stopping until her car was parked out front of her apartment building. She ran inside her, slammed the door shut, secured the locks and threw herself on the sofa. What was happening? Maybe she really was losing her mind.

  It wasn't until the wee h
ours, as the pink light of dawn punched between the blinds, that she finally slept.

  Her alarm blared from the other room and she pushed off the sofa trying to work out the painful kinks from a fitful night on it.

  She showered, dressed then went back to the living room. She hadn't ever been late for work since her first job, but this last week she'd twice overslept and been tempted to call in sick.

  Today the temptation was more than she could bear. After phoning in the message she sat back on the sofa and closed her eyes. In seconds a vision filled her mind: a little girl with silver blonde, waist-length hair stood on the soft grassy edge of a crystal-clear creek. Lavender and gold ribbons threaded through the hem and hung from the sleeves of her white gauze dress. Overhead a pale periwinkle sky made everything glow. Standing in the water before her, a white unicorn, a single crimson fleck on its flank.

  The girl pulled a jeweled dirk from her waist belt and carefully removed a large thorn from the unicorn's flank. She reached into the pocket of the dress and drew out a handful of strange orange-green leaves. After crushing them, she dipped the mass into the water then applied them to the injury with gentle pressure. The unicorn dipped his head in a low bow. She lifted her hands and placed them on his golden horn.

  Pain roared through Keely's head. She bit her lips to hold back the cry that threatened to break free. She tried to sit up but the pain was too strong

  Maybe she had some kind of mass in her brain. She'd seen shows where people with brain tumors had all kinds of weird visions and head pain. Once the dizziness passed, she'd call the doctor and schedule an appointment. She had to get her life back.

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  Xavier Blake paced the living room. When Keely appeared, he'd seen his own confusion whirling in her eyes. Something about her name triggered a latent memory but as quickly as it danced on the edges of his brain, it disappeared.

  She'd been so beautiful, her skin as pale as that of a white rose. Her eyes were a strange shade—purple—he'd swear to it. When she looked at him, he felt his soul stripped bare. What memories did she stir in him?

  Xavier moved to the sofa and lay back on the cushions. His eyes slid closed. In minutes the smell of sulphur filled his nostrils, the room became dark and the walls shimmered into the texture of a cavern: it was hot, miserably hot. Perspiration pooled all over his body. A sound drew his eyes to the darkest corner of the cave. Shuffling and rasping sounds drew closer. Suddenly the room was filled with a huge black dragon, his gold trimmed green eyes studied every inch of the room.

  It inhaled long and deep then blew out a massive orange flame. Sounds of shrieking filled the chamber and the entire room exploded with brilliant white light. Then all was dark. The dragon was left as nothing more than a burnt husk on the bottom of the cave floor.

  Pain filled Xavier's chest and head at the same time. He was consumed with heartache at a profound loss. It weighed on him, burying him beneath its load.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Two

  Keely strolled to the window and stared out. The sky darkened to a deep gray and she could sense the storms that filled the air. May in Missouri: the perfect storm season. Beginning in March the probability for severe weather, tornadoes and the like, was almost tripled compared to other times of the year. March, April, May and sometimes even into June the weather could be calm and peaceful one minute and in the blink of an eye it would turn nasty. Just like the emotional turmoil building inside her. One minute she was sure of what was going on and the next nothing made sense.

  Why was she so restless? What was going on? Abruptly, the world wasn't crisp and clear. It was disjointed and, like a pair of too-small shoes, it made her feel cramped and lost.

  "Aldmakeelia. You must come home. They need you. Come home."

  The whisper echoed through her apartment and she spun trying to find where it was coming from. “Who's there?” she shouted.

  She ran through apartment going from room to room throwing doors opened wide. She dug into closets pulling out her clothes to find the villain hiding there. She climbed into the crawl space in the top of the closet searching for a secluded tormentor. Each place she found the same thing: nothing.

  She dropped on her bed and squeezed her eyes tight. Hot tears escaped the clamped lids. They trekked down her cheek and dripped into her ears. Was she becoming mentally ill? She knew absolutely nothing of her past. Her adopted parents, Jake and Jilly Morgan, had never been able to learn of her biological family. It was like she'd just been dropped in from a cloud.

  Maybe her birth mother or father, or both, had suffered some schizophrenia. She pressed a hand to her head. “Get hold of yourself, Keely."

  "Aldmakeelia,” the voice whispered again.

  A sudden wave of homesickness swept over her, dragging her already sinking spirits even lower. She sat on the couch, picked up the phone and dialed her mother's number.

  "Hey Mom, it's Keely."

  "Honey. I'm so glad you called.” There was a short pause. “But shouldn't you be at work?"

  "I didn't feel well today."

  "What is it? What's wrong? Are you running a fever? Have you been eating right?"

  Despite her horrendous mood, Keely couldn't suppress a chuckle. “Take it easy, Mom. I'm just having a bad day that's all. I'm sure it's nothing."

  "Shouldn't worry me like that. Why is the day so bad?"

  Why indeed? She couldn't answer that for herself; how could she explain it to her mom? “I don't know it's just ... I feel like I'm...” She wasn't sure what to say. Hey Mom, see the deal is I think I'm losing my mind. Hearing voices and that sort of thing.

  "Keely?"

  "Have you ever felt like you didn't fit in?” Immediately, Keely regretted asking the question. “Forget it. It's no big deal, really."

  "Has something happened?"

  "Not really. I don't know. I'm just in a bit of a funk."

  "You need a bit of a what?” Her mother's exclamation was nearly deafening.

  "What? No. Funk, F-u-n-k, geez."

  "Sorry. Bad connection. We all feel a little off some days, dear. It's natural. Have you been eating enough fiber?"

  Enough with the diet already. “I'm fine. I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm sorry it's been so long since I called."

  "When are you coming home?"

  "Come home, Aldmakeelia,” the voice whispered louder.

  "Um ... I don't know. I'll come when I can. Listen, I need to go I just wanted to give you a buzz and see how you and Dad are."

  "We're fine. He's got some yearlings to get to auction in a week or two."

  "Let me know when and I'll come give him a hand, okay?"

  "I will. Are you sure you're going to be all right?"

  "I'm sure, Mom. Thanks. Miss you. Love to you both."

  She waited for her mom to hang up and then clicked off the line. What had possessed her to call home? She froze and waited for the voice. Almost on cue it came again.

  "Home,” the pleading tone cut the air. It was so sad with an edge of desperation.

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  Xavier paced the study of his family home. The deep pile of cream-colored carpet muffled his steps. Since seeing the woman last night he couldn't get her out of his mind. Something about her stirred his blood.

  Images gathered and played in his mind.

  A little boy with dark hair and dark eyes ran through the fields, fire consumed the dry grass. It licked at his heels as he ran down a wooded path, through trees, brittle and dry. He made his way to a cavern hidden behind a huge waterfall where he'd be safe from the destruction following him. The parched trees and underbrush fed the flames, fueling the fire into a roaring monstrous beast that lunged after him.

  He jumped through the curtain of water, the fire steamed and hissed, like a ravenous snake on the opposite side. Fear made tremors ripple through his body. “Xiuhcoatl,” the voice boomed in the cavern.

  The large black dragon moved closer. It shifted and soon a w
oman was running to him, arms outstretched. “We must hurry. I must get you to safety."

  She dragged him down the chambers, twisting and turning through the maze of stone. Her terror was as palpable as the rock walls around them.

  Xavier shivered and shook his head. It felt like a memory. But it wasn't possible. The things just seemed too incredible. So, why did it feel so real?

  He hurried from the room and down the marble hall to the bathroom. He breathed deeply, in, out, in, out, trying to slow his breathing, allow his heart rate to decelerate. After splashing cold water on his face he reached for the towel to blot it off. His eyes met his reflection in the glass. Golden yellow rings glowed around the green orbs and his pupils shifted to cat eye slits.

  He shook his head again and peered closer. His fingers pulled the lids apart but the pupils were round once more. What the hell?

  "Xavier?"

  He toweled off and stepped out of the bathroom. His mother's graceful strides brought her in from the foyer. “Hello Mother.” He greeted her with a peck on the cheek.

  Aramantha Blake was an elegant woman in her late sixties. Her brown hair didn't show a single strand of gray; not that she'd allow it to show if she had any. Her silky chocolate eyes sparkled, her smile could light a small city and her tittering laugh reminded him of Katherine Hepburn. He was a true momma's boy. She was his first love and to this day he hated disappointing her.

  "Hello, my darling.” She stepped back, her eyes studying him closely. “Is there something wrong?"

  "No. Should there be?"

  She gave him a playful slap on the arm. “You were out late again last night. Do I want to know with whom and where?"

  "Probably not."

  "I didn't think so. Have you picked up your tuxedo for Saturday night?"

  "Saturday?” He scanned his memory. “Oh damn, I forgot."

  "Language."

  "Sorry Mother. I completely forgot the Conlon's dinner party.” He took her in his arms and pressed his chin down on her head. “You should wear that blue gown with the sapphire and diamonds jewelry set Father gave you for Christmas. You're already a hot momma, you look absolutely stunning in that."