Fallen Angel Reclaimed: The Complete Series by Lacey Carter Andersen

14

Tristan could not takehis gaze from the dragon. Gargoyles were not quick to anger. Their decisions were made with intelligence and strategy, not influenced by emotion. But rage consumed him now. This… was wrong.

The dragon had black scales at one point, but now they were nearly gray. Its flesh hung from its grotesquely thin body, and its wings had patchy holes. The chains that bound its neck were thick and covered in spikes, which even now bit into its flesh, sending dark blood running down its scales in rivulets.

His fists clenched. Whoever had done this would die for their cruelty.

The creature was immortal. No matter how it starved. No matter how it bled, it could not die. This was an existence he would not wish on his greatest enemy.

The dragon roared again, but only a puff of smoke left its lips. There was no chance a dragon in this condition could breathe fire.

“That’s the Immortal,” Mark whispered beside him, leaning against the cave wall.

Tristan nodded. “So, how do we free him?”

Mark shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Tristan allowed his senses to stretch out. The chains contained a spell that prevented the dragon from shifting and from breaking the chain. The magic was ancient, powerful, and perhaps created by Caine himself.

As he stared at the chain, he realized that there was a good chance he could break it. Gargoyles were good with stone and metal, anything that could be used to create.

“I think I could free it.”

“It’d kill you before you could,” Mark said, pushing off from the wall. “If we could reason with it—“

“Him,” Tristan added, because now he was sure it was a male. “Shifters cannot remain in one form or the other for too long. Being a dragon for so long means that he has almost entirely given into the animal within him. I don’t even know if he could understand us now.”

“But we can try,” Mark asserted.

Tristan didn’t have a better idea, so he nodded.

Mark cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “Uh, hello—“

The dragon roared. He tried several times to climb to his feet, sending bird bones scattering with every movement, but eventually collapsed back down. His head lay on the ground, but his spinning silver eyes never left them. He looked hungry. And desperate.

Mark took a slight step closer. “We’re here to help you. We know that you’re an Immortal. We know that Caine imprisoned you here, and we can free you, if you’ll let us.”

The dragon neither moved nor responded. He just watched. And waited.

Mark inched forward.

Tristan looked between the druid and the dragon’s chain. “Not too much closer or he’ll reach you.”

“He can’t even get up,” Mark said, frowning.

“For a meal, he can.”

Mark paled a bit and nodded. “Do you understand us? Can we help you?”

Still, the dragon said nothing.

The druid inched forward, and everything happened at once. The dragon shot toward him, and Tristan yanked him back, far out of the dragon’s reach.

He roared, massive teeth snapping. Drool rolling from his mouth as he struggled against the chain, flinging his body over and over toward them.

Tristan patted Mark’s shoulder. “He is a beast now and nothing more.”

A second later, they heard something behind them.

Surcy gasped. “What have they done to him?”

“The bastards tortured him,” Daniel muttered.

“And now he’s lost to his primal side,” Mark explained, sounding hopeless. “Tristan may be able to break the chains, but we can’t get close enough without it killing us.”

“So then, let’s feed it,” Daniel said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

They all turned to the fire mage as one.

He shrugged. “The best way to gain an animal’s trust is to feed it and show it that you won’t hurt it. We won’t rescue him quickly, but we can rescue him.”

Mark smiled. “You’re a freaking genius!”

Their plan was harder said than done. Surcy teleported away and appeared back on the ledge below. Tristan plucked her off of it, brought her back to the dragon’s cave, and they threw the dragon whatever meat Surcy had bought. They spent the afternoon doing nothing but feeding the dragon, but even so, it continued to stare at them, waiting for more.

And yet when Tristan moved forward, the creature was always watching, ready to make him his next meal.

They left in the evening and came back each day for seven days. And each day they sensed a change in the dragon. He seemed… less angry. He didn’t roar at their approach, and he didn’t snap when they got closer.

He wasn’t ready yet, but Tristan felt confident that soon he would trust them.

On the seventh day, as they sat at the cave entrance, waiting for the dragon to finish, they heard a strange sound from the back of the cave.

The dragon stiffened and turned slowly, staring into the darkness.

They tensed. Was it Caine’s angels? Or something even more dangerous?

And then, three haggard people appeared at the entrance to a small tunnel. The dragon lunged at them, and the people cowered back, but his chain took him nowhere near them.

One of the people, a woman with long, tangled black hair and a dirt-streaked face looked at them in shock. “We thought… we thought we heard voices.”

Tristan could not take his eyes off of her. She looked as thin and filthy as the dragon. Was she a prisoner here too?

“We’re here to free the dragon,” Surcy said, her voice hesitant.

The woman’s eyes widened, and she looked between them and the dragon. “You won’t survive that.”

“We have to try.”

For a long minute, tension sung between them. At last, the woman spoke, “I’m Winter. This is Autumn and Spring. And that dragon,” she said, pointing at it, “is Summer. We are the Immortals of the seasons, and Caine has trapped us here longer than we can remember.”

More Immortals?

“Is there no other way out?” Surcy asked, although they all already knew the answer.

Winter shook her head. “Only past Summer. And he’s no longer himself… just a mindless dragon.”

Surcy stood, and they followed her suit. “Well, we’re here to save all of you from Caine.”

Winter nodded. “I don’t think you’ll succeed, but you’re the first ones to try.”

The man named Autumn took a step closer to them. At one point, his long hair was likely the color of fall leaves, but now it was covered in dirt and grime, so much that the color was a muted brown. “We’ve been surviving on the bugs and rats we find in the tunnels. I’m all for anything that might get us out of this hell. That fucking bastard Caine, leaving us down here like animals, knowing we’ll starve but not die.”

Mark spoke, his words soft. “I’m so sorry he did that to you. But we have a plan, we’re feeding him. We’re going to try to calm him enough to remove his chains. And once he can shift, he should regain some of his mind.”

Autumn looked at the dragon. “Sure you don’t have any dragon tranquilizers?”

Daniel laughed. “If only.”

Spring moved forward. Her hair fell down to her ankles, hair that had once been blonde. And her skin was pale. Dead flowers sprouted from her hair, and her expression was that of hopelessness. “You should know there is another reason why we emerged from the tunnels today.”

Tristan frowned. This doesn’t sound good.

“This is the day the angels come. They give us scraps of food and ask us if we have forgotten the outside world yet.”

His heart sped up. Angels? If they came, there was evidence everywhere that people had been here. The bones of all the meat they’d been feeding the dragon littered the floor, and the creature no longer looked nearly as starved and crazed.

“If they come, our plan is doomed,” Tristan said, low enough so the Immortals wouldn’t catch his words.

“But—“ Mark began.

“If they do not kill them in fear of us saving them, they will wait here and spring a trap for the next time we come.”

“We can’t save him today,” Surcy said. “He isn’t ready. He’ll kill you.”

Tristan looked between the beast and the Immortals. He had no choice. He couldn’t leave them to suffer, not knowing what Caine and his angels would do now that they’d been found. Yes, the dragon still seemed unable to communicate with them, and gave no indication of his human-side, but Tristan would take the risk.

He had to.

“I remove his chains. Today.”

“And what if you actually succeed in releasing him, and he immediately eats all of us?” Daniel asked, with a frown.

“All of you will go to safety.”

“Like fucking hell,” Daniel said, shaking his head.

“I’m made of stone. I can endure some of the dragon’s attack.”

“Some,” Daniel emphasized. “Not all. His teeth will turn you to dust.”

Tristan shrugged. “Then, I’ll avoid his teeth.”

“Surcy, tell him what a dumbass he’s being,” Daniel shouted, drawing the gazes of the Immortals and the dragon.

Tristan’s gaze swung to her, and their eyes met. For a minute it was hard to breathe. Did his little angel have any idea the effect she had on him? He was certain she didn’t have a clue.

She didn’t remember their many moments together, or their nights spent tangled in each other’s arms, but he did. And it killed him to not be allowed to touch her now.

Curling his hands into fists, he willed himself to look at her without seeing her. To not notice how fluid, how graceful her movements were as she moved toward him. He told himself that her skin wasn’t flushed and healthy, that her long, black hair wasn’t silky and begging to be touched, and that the curves of her face and full lips weren’t flawless.

But even his own mind screamed that he lied.

She was… stunning.

Her breathing increased, and his gaze moved to her breasts. The slight rise and fall of the twin mounds were intoxicating to watch. His body begged him to reach out and stroke them, to cup them in his hard hands and feel their delicious weight.

But he could not touch her. He would not touch her. Not until she loved him again.

“Tristan?” she said his name softly.

Does she feel our connection too?

“Yes.”

“Do you really think you can do this?”

He nodded. Of course he could do it. It was dangerous, but he was not easy to kill.

Reaching up, she pushed his hair back from his face, tucking it behind his ear. A thousand memories came back to him in a rush. Of the first time they met. Even as an angel hunting demons, the connection between them had been powerful. Her slightest touch made him feel more than he had in all his years as a gargoyle, and the power that moved between them was there, even now.

Rising up on her tiptoes, she pressed the lightest kiss to his lips.

He held himself still, afraid of what he might do if he let the wall between them crumble.

“You be careful,” she whispered. “Do you understand me? Because if you let that dragon hurt you. I’ll kick your ass.”

He smiled. “You won’t be rid of me so easily, little angel.”

Her gaze darkened, and she leaned up again. This time when she kissed him it wasn’t lightly, and he felt the wall between them falling. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, and his lips slanted over hers. She was so soft, his angel. Her mouth hot and hungry against his. And when she parted her lips, her tongue tangling with his, he forgot all about the dragons and the Immortals.

This was all he wanted. Surcy. In his arms. Safe and loved forever.

When she pulled back, breaking their kiss, they were both breathing hard. He stared at her, wanting to see the familiar face of a lover. Instead, her expression was surprised. Like it was their first kiss. It both hurt and fascinated him.

She might never remember him, but maybe she could love him again.

“So,” Mark cleared his throat. “What’s the plan?”

Tristan tore his gaze from his love and stared at the tired druid. “You three find a place to hide. When the dragon is released, we do not know what he will do. He may instinctually shift into his human form. He might become crazed and hunt like a starved animal. You do not wish to be his next meal.”

“And if he does that, what will you do?” Mark asked, looking as if he disapproved of their plan.

“I will get as far from him as quickly as I can.”

Daniel laughed. “I guess that’s a plan.”

Tristan looked between the two men. One frowning. One smiling. And yet, they were both worried. Do not be concerned. I won’t leave you so easily.

“Take care of her,” he ordered them.

Daniel nodded. “We will.”

And there it was. He didn’t just mean right now. He meant if anything went wrong. And they both knew it.

He didn’t watch them as they slowly left the cave. He might feel something then, and he couldn’t waste time with such things now. Instead, he turned his gaze to the Immortals on the other side of the cave.

“I am releasing him now. Stay far enough back that he cannot reach you.”

Their eyes widened, but they obeyed him.

Turning to the dragon, they openly evaluated each other. Gargoyles and dragons were typically allies. For all the rumors about dragons’ tempers and selfishness, they didn’t like powerful beings preying on humans either. There were times in the past the creatures had even fought at his side.

We are the same, he sent the thought to the dragon.

Perhaps it was his imagination, but he thought the beast stiffened.

I am going to free you. And you are not going to kill any of us. You may shift. You may hunt. But we are not your enemies.

The dragon’s silver eyes swirled, but he didn’t send a thought in return.

Truly, Tristan wasn’t certain whether he’d forgotten how to respond, but understood, or if he was completely lost to the beast.

Closing his eyes, he shifted into his gargoyle form. It took only seconds for his flesh to become hard stone, and for his stone wings to sprout from his back. When he was finished, he took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and inched forward.

When he drew close enough for the beast to attack, the dragon remained still, watching.

Tristan hoped that was a good sign as he closed in. The dragon’s leg twitched as he drew near his foot, but still, the beast did not attack.

His heart raced as he came to stand just beside his head. This close up, the dragon was even larger. Big enough to close its jaws around him in one deadly bite. Never before had he approached a wild creature this large and this unpredictable. And he hoped never to have to do it again.

I will remove your chains now. It may hurt, but then you’ll be free.

To his shock, the dragon turned its head, showing him the chains around its throat.

Dark blood ran from the sharp tips that pressed into its throat from the collar, more flowing with his movement. It turned Tristan’s stomach, but he forced himself to focus. The collar was strong and thick, but he sensed the weak points in it. Reaching forward, he wrapped his hands on either side of the weakest point and began to pull.

A low growl emanated from the dragon’s chest, but he didn’t attack.

Tristan took that as a good sign and continued to pull. A crack formed in the metal. He was breathing hard, pulling with all his might. His stone hands commanded the metal to weaken, to break. He seemed to press a vibration into the material that sent the crack deeper and deeper. Every muscle in his body strained. His teeth clenching painfully together. He was so close.

So close.

But still, the chain held.

The dragon moved slightly. More blood ran from where Tristan was unintentionally digging the spikes deeper into its throat. Soon the beast would become impatient. Soon he would attack.

Tristan could feel his one chance ticking away with each second that passed.

And then, like a crack of lightning, the collar broke, hitting the ground.

The sound seemed to echo around them. Tristan inched back as the dragon rose onto its feet. Rotating its neck, he seemed to be testing whether the collar was truly gone. And then, he threw back his head and roared.

Only this was a sound of triumph.

Tristan smiled. Soon the haggard creature would be powerful once more.

And then, the air changed. Tristan frowned and looked to the cave entrance. What was wrong?

Something hit the ground outside of the cave. The dragon’s head whirled to the sound.

And there, in the entrance, angels approached. Three of them, holding dead birds in their hands. One spoke. The other two laughed.

Tristan tried to move back, but he wasn’t fast enough. The dragon moved like lightning, knocking him back against the cave wall with a power that made his vision blacken.

The screams of the angels echoed around him, and the most horrible sound came. Of bones cracking and blood gushing.

Tristan sucked in deep breaths. He knew enough of battle to know what happened. As his vision returned, he struggled to his feet. His chest, back, and head ached, but he was fine. Stumbling to the back cave, he barely entered before spotting the Immortals.

They ran to him.

“Our collars,” Spring whispered, pointing to the thin bands of steel.

Steadying himself, he grasped hers and snapped it with a flick of his wrist. She wept happy tears as he moved to Autumn and Winter. When all of their collars hit the ground, Autumn grabbed his shoulder.

“Thank you. The Seasons are in your debt.”

“You are not safe yet. Caine will simply catch you once more. There is a sanctuary for your kind. You must go there, until it is time to overthrow him.”

Autumn’s cracked lips curled into a smile. “Send me the image, demon, and we’ll get there.”

The Immortal closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Tristan’s. Tristan thought of the paths to the sanctuary, and then of the sanctuary itself. He tried to show it from the ground and sky, seeking to give them as much information as possible.

At last, the Immortal pulled back. “Thank you. That will do.”

He nodded, and the three battered Immortals left the cave, backs straight.

There was something wrong. He was certain of it the moment they came out into the dragon’s empty space. It wasn’t the entrance, which was splattered with blood. It was something in the air that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Walking out into the open, his jaw dropped.

Dozens of angels surrounded the weakened dragon as it struggled to flap its wings. Their soul-blades were lit with light, and they swung each time he snapped at them. The dragon turned its head, saw him, and roared, only it was a sound of desperation.

A shiver moved through his body, and his hand went to the sword at his back.

“They’ll kill him,” Summer whispered.

“No, they won’t,” Tristan told her.

Moving forward, he severed a head from one of the angels. That got the others attention. Two turned to look at him. The dragon clamped its teeth over one of them, and threw back its head, devouring the angel.

Chaos erupted in the white-winged angels, a few raced at him, while the others spread out their circle around the dragon. Tension hung between them as he faced them, hoping they wouldn’t notice the helpless Immortals behind him.

One sword struck his. The sound of metal on metal rang through the air.

He pushed back his opponent. Caught the blade of another angel, and kicked it in the stomach, sending the massive man back.

A blade struck his shoulder, vibrating through his stone body.

Fool.

He whirled, catching the angel’s shocked expression as he sliced his head off.

More attacked. Blades struck him from every angle. At first only an annoyance, but after a time, the soul-blade sent aches through his body. The damn blades were different than regular ones, imbued with angel magic.

Unfortunately.

Gritting his teeth, he continued to move until the dragon was behind his back. His large wings flapping hopelessly. And then, to Tristan’s shock, the beast began to rise into the air.

The angels, damn them, followed the beast as it wobbled in the sky on its broken wings.

Tristan felt fury uncurl within him. Clutching his blade more tightly, he shot into the sky after them. The battle was a dangerous one. The dragon was driven by a need to survive. Tristan had to stay close, had to knock the angels back as they attacked the dragon’s wings.

And yet, the angels were everywhere, teleporting into the sky, surrounding them. The sky filled with white-winged bastards hell-bent on destroying an innocent creature.

The dragon let out the most horrible sound, and then, it shifted in midair. A man fell from the sky, his eyes closed, his face pale.

Tristan dove for him, catching the shifter in his arms. His heart raced as he refused to look back at the angels who surrounded them. He just flew with all his might, choosing a direction at random. He could not let the Immortal die. He had to save him. Not because of Caine, or the fight, but because this man was an innocent who had been tortured and destroyed as a person.

Tristan knew what that felt like.

His heartbeat filled his ears. He could sense the angels just behind him. They shouted for him to stop, but an angel couldn’t compete with a gargoyle.

Slowly, the noise faded away. He continued to fly without slowing, but he also glanced down at the man in his arms. He was massive, even for a shifter. It was clear from his broad shoulders and the size of his hands that he had once been a muscular man.

His filthy blond hair had grown long, and a straggly beard hung to his belly. Tristan thought of the dragon with its broken wings and its sagging scales.

Looking behind him, he saw the angels far in the distance, still losing ground. Soon, this man would be safe.

But what of Surcy? And Mark? And Daniel? What of the other Immortals?

His instincts screamed to turn back, but it would mean death for the broken shifter in his arms. And so, he kept flying but he never stopped worrying.