Immortal Heat (The Guardians of Dacia Book 1) (5 page)

All he could do was nod his head in agreement and back up until the solid wall was behind him. If a four foot-six inch woman could make any man feel smaller—she would be the one to do it.

"Nonni, I'm just the messenger…no, I'm not letting her go with Vamier…Rick warned me…I know, I know."

Nonni spoke heatedly to Marilyn, first talking about her lack of manners and then laying down the law to her. But Marilyn stood her ground. Draylon couldn't read her mind. That thick blanket continued to block him from her inner thoughts. Then he thought he heard a low throaty growl come from her. It never burst forth from her mouth but it was there.

Nonni stopped, mid curse and lowered her finger. Her eyes widened, at first with shock and then interest and then a sudden calm broke over the old woman. Her eyes closed, chanting something Draylon couldn't understand. Opening her eyes, Nonni relaxed and walked away.

"What the hell?"

"Who's got Nonni in a tiff? I'll kill 'em."

Two naked men stood near the table. Draylon looked at the floor where the two wolves
had
been sleeping.

"Relax Ren, you don't need to kill anyone today." He looked over to see Marilyn checking out the two men's physiques. A slight pang of protectiveness clouded his vision. "Would you two go and put some clothes on. You're in the presence of a lady."

"So?" Ron, the other shrugged, making a point of crossing his meaty arms over his chest and flexing them.

Draylon took a deep breath. "Just put on some clothes."

"You gonna make me, Dray? You and whose Army?"

About to retaliate the way they always did, Draylon was shoved aside as Marilyn muscled past him. Ron and Ren's voices growled deep within their chests at her approach. Ron's eyes turned a stunning blue as his lips peeled back in a snarl.

Stepping in between the two, Marilyn squared her jaw and growled back at the naked man, setting him to back off.

The clink of something metal hitting the ground caused all of them to stop their ruckus. Draylon rushed to Nonni's side as she grabbed at her chest. Marilyn hurried over, too. She picked up the metal ladle Nonni dropped and looked to see if she could help.

"Is she okay? We need to get her to a hospital."

"No…no hospital," Nonni rasped, tossing her head from side to side. "That is where old people go to die."

Draylon supported the woman's head on his lap as she fought for breath.

"Are you sure, Nonni? You look pale and you're in pain."

"Pain is fear leaving the body…fear is gone now…time for this woman's work to be done." She nodded to Draylon. "Help me. I need to do what needs to be done."

Draylon wasn't sure that Nonni would be okay, but he helped her to stand and got her to at least sit in her rocking chair then placed a quilt around her frail body.

"Get her some water." Draylon glanced around to see the two men still standing there like naked sentries. "And damn it, would you two put some clothes on."

"I've got the water. Go get dressed," Marilyn commanded the naked twins. She leveled them a look, and her voice growled low as they tried to defy her.

Both men appeared to understand her tone. Looking at each other, they went to do her bidding. Draylon watched until they left—so did Marilyn, her eyes never leaving their retreat. Her nose twitched and her lip curled around the edges. Or was that his imagination?

Finally, she turned and pumped out a dipper of water from the hand pump fountain at the sink. Bringing it over to Nonni, she sat at the woman's feet, holding the dipper out to her as an offering.

Nonni's hands trembled as they reached out. Draylon worried about this new side to the old witch. He'd never seen her so shaken. Something passed between the older and younger woman, as if they were reading each other's thoughts. Then he saw it—whatever
it
was. Marilyn's intense stare, her eyes, turned emerald green, the rims around their fiery irises black as night. The change was only momentary and then, gone as if he'd imagined it all. He was not one to imagine anything—not when he himself was a mere creature of fantasies and folklore.

When Nonni had her fill of the water she sat back in her chair, weariness pinching her weathered features. She closed her eyes and chanted in tongues. A language he'd never witnessed her speak. It sounded ancient—like a prayer perhaps, and then she became quiet and a soft snore erupted.

Marilyn lowered the dipper and smiled. "Nonni is something else."

So are you, Draylon thought to himself. But he wasn't sure what.

Chapter Three

The room was small but tidy. The rustic wooden bed and large armoire were the main pieces of furniture and they took up most of the room. No television or any other electronics and only an oil lamp on a small bedside table gave her enough light to prepare for bed.

Glancing around, Marilyn removed her clothing and folded them. She changed into her oversized Baltimore Raven's football jersey, the only good thing she'd gotten out of her last relationship, and crawled into bed.

The half-medallion weighed heavy against her breastbone where it laid, the silver chain tangled in her hair. She didn't feel safe taking it off in the company of strangers. She rubbed the jagged edges and traced the detailed relief of the wolf's head. She knew the image intimately by touch as well as sight. The open jaws of the mighty wolf swallowing the serpentine tail of a missing beast.

It was one of the reasons she was here in Romania, to find the missing piece. On her twenty-first birthday she'd received a package from a friend of her father's. There'd been no name, no return address, just a letter explaining this had been an ancient Dacian artifact that her father had found, and he wished for her to have it when she turned twenty-one. She was to keep it a secret from everyone, but it would protect her and be the answer to her heritage.

Why would her father want her to have it? According to her mother, her father never accepted the fact she was his. Her father had accused her mother of being unfaithful because he was infertile. He'd never be able to have children. He'd left her mother claiming he'd divorce her when he returned from his trip to Romania…but he never returned.

And now she'd been sent this piece of Dacian history from a stranger who claimed
her father
wanted her to have it. This from a man who claimed she couldn't be his daughter? Maybe he'd had a change of heart at the last minute and never had the chance to apologize to her mother before he went missing. Or maybe he was still out there somewhere, hiding. But from her research into the Hoia Forest where he'd disappeared…it wasn't uncommon. People who ventured in sometimes never returned. The place held a paranormal aura that scientists were still baffled over.

Her interest in her heritage, the medallion and Romanian history in general led her to contact one of the top history/archeological professors in the country, Aiden Vamier. Her interest and the paper she'd done on Ancient Dacia and what background she knew had piqued the man's interest, and he'd offered her a chance to spend this semester, finishing her Master's Degree, learning at his side.

She never expected any of
this
to happen. What was it with exploding vampire-like creatures, wolves that morphed into naked men and Draylon Conier? She had to be in some crazy drug induced dream from the medications Jon gave her for her recent pains and sleep issues. The muscle aches, cramps and dizzy spells she suffered were too much to deal with. She'd talked to her mother about her conditions, and she'd suggested going to see Doc Johnston for an examination.

Yawning, Marilyn rolled to her side. She knew she should sleep. It was bad enough this was a dream. She didn't want to sleep within a dream and not know the difference between reality and fantasy. The press of the heavy bronze jagged edge digging into the side of her breast irritated her. Finally giving in, she slipped the chained emblem off and wrapped the necklace around the palm of her hand, lacing it through her fingers. No one would be able to take her medallion without waking her up. She wouldn't lose the only connection she had to her heritage.

#

Sunlight dappled across her face. Focusing on her surroundings, Marilyn's eyes tried to open but felt heavy, her lashes matted and crusted. Turning her head from side to side, prisms of light and pain shot behind her lids.

"Rest. Rest easy, zmeoaică."

"Thirsty…" Marilyn mumbled.

Cool water dribbled past her parched lips. Nothing ever tasted so good.

"You've been on a long journey, my friend," the kind voice whispered. "I knew you would come eventually. But your journey is not over."

A door creaked open and the bed weighted down. Wet snouts burrowed beneath her hands. She rubbed their noses.

"Get those two mutts off the bed, Nonni. They don't need to be up there."

The heavy male voice sounded familiar. If only she could remember …

"They are fine, Draylon. They are not hurting anyone—except you."

There was silence but Marilyn picked up on troubled thoughts. Not hers but someone else's.

"How is she, Nonni?"

"Her fever broke this morning. But she is still weak."

Nonni. She'd heard the name recently…yes? She couldn't remember and thinking caused her head to pound. She inhaled the spicy musk to calm the thumping. It reminded her of something…no, someone.

"All right, all right—" the woman stated with exasperation, "Therron, Kurren…shoo! Go sleep by the fire."

The weight by her side shifted and was replaced by a different weight. A hand brushed a strand of hair out of her face. A finger swept along her cheek.

"Are you sure she is going to be okay?"

"Yes. She's young and healthy—just adjusting to…things, Draylon."

Ah, Draylon!
Yes, she remembered the name.

"But she's been sick for two days. It can't be jet lag. There is no fever with jet lag. Something is not right, Nonni. I'm calling Rick."

"No!"

The outburst from Nonni brought her awake, peeling her burning eyelids open. She watched as the old woman and the young man dressed in black stared holes in the other.

"He wouldn't know what to do with her. She's a woman. Besides, if you think Therron and Kurren are an issue, what do you suppose putting her in the wolves' den would do? No, she must be kept safe…and away from others."

"What do you purpose then? Keep her here?"

"No, she won't be safe here for long. Vamier would find her. You know what you must do. Follow your natural instincts."

Marilyn couldn't make out his mumbled words. She was so tired and weak. What was wrong with her? She heard the door open and close and sensed that Draylon had left. Nonni returned to her side and smiled a toothless grin down at her.

"He is so old but so young, too. But you will show him the way."

What was she talking about? She spoke in English but what she said didn't make sense to her. She raised her hand only to have it drop across her chest. Chest…hand…her medallion! Panic set in.

Nonni gentled her. "It is safe within your belongings, my child." A cool cloth fell across her heated forehead. "You must have a care with it, though. It must not fall into the wrong hands. Keep it on you at all times when you leave. Keep it close to your heart, and it will lead you home."

More nonsense and riddles. Her brain wasn't equipped with enough neurons to figure out what she said. She sensed her brain working, keeping her inner organs alive. But using it for thinking or focus drained her completely.

"Rest…rest, zmeoaică. You will be home soon."

#

Follow my natural instincts?
The one thing about the old woman was she talked in riddles and Draylon didn't always have time to figure them out. If he could just have someone tell him what he had to do, he'd do it. Someone like Rick. Rick always gave it to him straight. He knew where he stood with his old friend.

Rick Delvante had saved his life many years ago. During a battle in which his family had been destroyed, Rick had found him and nursed him back to health. He owed the man and promised to find a way to pay him back. But the man never accepted his offers over the centuries…not until three days ago when he sent him to intercept Marilyn Reddlin and keep her from getting to Aiden Vamier.

What was it about this young woman? Why after centuries of strife, wars and issues Draylon could've taken care of for Rick, why was it now—and with this woman?

Okay, she was the daughter of the most influential executives at Livedel, Rick Delvante's medical research facility. He'd heard about Diane Reddlin. No wonder Marilyn had issues. If she had Diane for a mother, it was a wonder the girl could think for herself. He'd heard the woman ate testicles for a mid-morning snack and washed them down with the blood of every man she'd bested behind the desk. Rumor had it she even had the United States Senate and half the Representatives by the gonads. She ate, breathed and pissed power but because of her, Livedel was the dominant international industry it had become in the past couple of decades.

Rick needed him to keep Marilyn from Romania. She needed to go home then. She'd refused him, wouldn't follow his command, verbal or telepathic. Something told him she still wouldn't listen to him. But right now, she was weak and vulnerable. With Vamier's goons hunting her down she wouldn't be safe. His instincts told him she needed to get back home, away from the immediate danger. That is what Rick wanted. Draylon knew what he had to do.