Page 13 of Dragon’s Rebel

Chapter 6

Back in the Batcave, Tempest lay on one of the couches, watching a rerun of Touched by an Angel while the others played poker. She could tell their hearts weren’t really in it, though. It was just something to do while waiting for Thorne and Rebel to get back from their mission.

So many things could go wrong. And even if everything went right, what if Thorne still couldn’t turn human?

What if they couldn’t find the next Seal?

But this growing feeling of anxiety in her stomach wasn’t about that.

It was still about the dragons. All of them, lying dead, and even though it couldn’t happen like that because Thorne wasn’t here, she still felt like it was about to.

Part of her wanted to go over and sit next to Tyr. When she was with him, the bad feelings went away, and so did the visions. Sometimes she wished she could just be his mate the way he wanted, and be with him all the time.

She liked Tyr. Really like-liked him. He was sweet and funny and kind, and unbelievably hot. Way hotter than any guy who had ever noticed her before.

She even liked his dirty mouth. The things he said made her laugh.

But if she couldn’t see her visions when she was with him, she didn’t know if they could be together. Her visions told her important things, and she knew, deep inside, that one day soon she would need them.

What if something really, really bad was going to happen—like the dragons dying or Vyrkos coming out of the mountain or something happening to Rebel—and she didn’t know because she was all snuggled up to Tyr?

What if she didn’t fix it?

The feeling in her gut grew even stronger; she felt almost nauseated. In her head, all around her, she could see dead dragons. Sometimes they were down here, in their dragon forms. Sometimes they were upstairs, in the house, lying in the hallways, human but still dead.

There was never any blood. No wounds. Just their still faces and their blank eyes staring up at her accusingly.

Finally she couldn’t stand it any longer. Very quietly, she rose and slipped out of the room, like she was just going to the bathroom.

Really, she was patrolling. The way she used to patrol the neighborhood around her store in St. Johns. Walking up one street and down another, fixing things so that the visions she saw wouldn’t happen.

Giving money to the crazy man outside the coffee shop, so he’d go off to buy a bottle and wouldn’t hurt the blond lady that said nasty things to him as she passed.

Stopping the man outside the bar and asking him what time it was, so he didn’t go inside at the wrong time and start a fight and get hit over the head with a jagged bottle.

Moving a trash can that somebody was going to trip over, and break their leg.

Just making sure everything was okay.

But as soon as she walked out the door of the Batcave into the big arching atrium that led to all the other tunnels, she knew it wasn’t okay.

She saw it again, clear as anything: all the dragons lying dead.

She had to fix it. She had to change it so the story ended differently.

She stood with her eyes closed, running one scenario after another. Get in the elevator and go upstairs to the mansion. Go down to the portal room that led to Vyrkos’ tomb.

Go down the corridor that led to Tyr’s lair. Zane’s. Thorne’s.

That was it. She walked down the corridor, her sneakers making hardly any sound on the big stone floor. She passed door after door, all huge and carved with amazing designs—animals, trees, suns and moons and planets, abstract designs.

Some of them still had hoards of dragon gold behind them. She imagined she could hear the gold singing, the way Blaze told her Zane’s hoard sang.

That must be amazing. She’d like to see Tyr’s hoard, but it was the one thing he hadn’t shown her.

She came to a fork in the tunnel and closed her eyes again. Left. Not towards Thorne’s lair after all, but down the tunnel that led toward the entrance that the dragons used when they wanted to go outside from the tunnels. It led to an opening in the cliffside, one that could only be accessed by someone flying.

Tempest felt a breeze and smelled rain. She opened her eyes. Rain? That wasn’t right. The magical forcefield on the entrance was supposed to keep out people and animals and weather.