Dragonfire: Freedom in Flames (Secrets of the Makai Book 3) (21 page)

A shadowy shape approached in the darkness. Tristan’s scattered attention snapped into focus and his wings were suddenly not an issue. In fact, he felt them strengthen with each steady heartbeat that had gone from frantic confusion to absolute authority without missing a beat.

A wolf stood before him, with his jaws adding an odd cadence to his growls. It was probably a coyote.

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter if it was trying to communicate or not; the kittens were not up for discussion. He could fly away, instead of staring the animal down, but then the mother lion wouldn’t find her kittens and he wasn’t about to raise them himself. He had things to do and this wasn’t one of them.

Anger flared in his shoulders and his wings lifted higher at the joints.

The coyote sensed it immediately and lowered its nose. He seemed unsure what to do, and finally walked away at an angle, prepared to take off at a run if necessary. His pack waited quietly in the distance.

Tristan lifted the kittens higher and buried his nose against their soft fur. They smelled real enough, but were they? Did someone think a litter of kittens was the best way to distract him from finding Jacques? From finding the way out of this place?

An involuntary shudder racked through his limbs in the cold air. He curled his wings around himself without thinking.

Each joint rotated quite easily, like a second set of arms, but with two elbows and a wrist. The skin felt exactly like his normal skin; full of nerve endings and blood vessels. He stretched experimentally; each wing expanded about ten feet, maybe a little more. And though they were bony, they were surprisingly light and maneuverable—though he was already feeling the strain of holding them out for so long.

He shuddered again, more in confusion than cold. There was so much to think about all of a sudden. Could he lay on his wings without cutting off the circulation? How would his heart handle the extra work to maintain such a circulation? Could he conceal them if he wore a long coat? He couldn’t see how high they protruded over his head.

They were making him cold, he realized, as his blood flowed through the thin membrane against the night air. His mind raced in a million directions as the purring kittens fell asleep, cradled in his arms.

OASIS

TRISTAN SMILED AS
the kittens tackled each other with tiny roars, tumbling over his outstretched arm. He was lying on his side, one wing tucked tightly behind him and the other covering him and the kittens like a tent.

He’d kept guard over the little fur-balls for most of the night, kept awake by all his crazy thoughts, until a single idea changed everything.

So what if he could be easily distracted by kittens? It only proved he valued life, and felt a duty to protect. It seemed silly to think he’d eat Landon or Victor if he was hungry enough, without thought. Why would he? They were his trusted friends. He’d protect them with his last breath if necessary.

A rasping hum sent a shiver down his spine.

Tristan rose to an elbow, collecting the three kittens as they tried to make a run for the outside. All the doubt was back in his head at a full rampage—why hadn’t he sensed any danger? The hairs on his neck bristled and his eyes shifted naturally.

He got to his feet and swept back his wing in one fluid motion, then froze.

Lying a few feet away was the biggest cougar he’d ever seen, with thick golden fur. A dead rabbit lay between her huge front paws.

The fact that the cat was laying down had to be a good sign, but how long had she been there? Surely he would have heard her breathing.

They stared at each other. But not as he’d done with the wolf. This was more for establishing an understanding. She’d trusted him with her kittens all night, and he was trusting her not to change her mind, now that the night was over.

He lowered the kittens to the ground, then stood again. They ran toward their mother, stumbling a little in their eagerness to see her. She rolled to her side and let them nurse at her belly.

Tristan observed with fascination for a few moments, shocked she would put herself and her kittens at such a risk in the open desert, then took a few steps back. He would keep watch over her until she was done, but then he would have to keep moving.

Jacques, then home.

He picked up a sharp stick and scratched the words into the dry skin of his arm to make sure he didn’t forget, and circled around the mother and her kittens.

An hour passed and the air was finally gathering some warmth. His first priority should be water. Then shelter from the sun and a safe place to spend the night, if he was still here by then. He glanced at the spot where he the mother cat was sleeping. Maybe this was a good time to get moving. It’s not like he had to wait to say goodbye or anything. He picked a direction, one with a possible shimmer of a mountain on the horizon, and headed that way.

Not fifteen minutes had passed before the need to get back had him forgetting the purpose of his mission. He took to the sky and stayed low, straight back the way he’d come. He flew directly over the cougar hiding her kittens and spotted a whole pack of coyotes on the far side—probably a mile out but closing in.

Were they smart enough to know he’d abandoned guard duty? The guilt hit him a bit harder than it should have. The kittens had to be several weeks old. How had she managed for so long by herself? The coyotes took off yipping in every direction. Instead of picking one to follow, he turned back for the mother and her cubs.

By the time he landed, his temper cooled. Maybe there were things he didn’t understand about the pecking order in this place. Maybe the coyotes wouldn’t have considered taking down a mother mountain lion, but they could certainly keep her occupied while others in the pack found the kittens.

She probably couldn’t carry them all at the same time, could she? Maybe she couldn’t travel across the desert because then she’d have to pick one over the others. Maybe it was all she could do to leave them for short times and hope they were still alive when she returned with food for herself. Maybe she didn’t realize he’d leave her unguarded.

“Look,” Tristan said, frustrated the cat seemed so clueless as to what could have happened. “I have to go. I’m searching for a friend, so, you and the kittens are on your own. Got it?”

One of the kittens rolled to her back and the mother started licking its full belly. Tristan tried not to laugh. Such a cute little thing with a big scary predator for a mother. Did he outrank her on the predator scale? Would he be as gentle if he was his full dragon self? He hoped so.

“I’m going that way.” He pointed in the direction he’d been heading originally. “If you want to come with me, I’ll carry the little ones. I’ll be looking for water and shelter, and my friend. My friend is a bird. He won’t hurt you or the kittens.”

Tristan rolled his shoulders and neck. Flying would definitely take some getting used to. The cougar yawned and put her head down.

“No!” How could he make her understand? “We can’t sleep. We have to find water as soon as possible. You might not fry in the sun, with all that fur, but I will. I need shade.” The coyotes yapped away in the great distance, probably trying to find each other so they could regroup and try again. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll sneak up on you while you sleep?”

The cat’s tail twitched, but she didn’t bother lifting her head off the ground.

“Fine. Good luck.” It took him a second to find the other two kittens; they were taking turns chasing some sort of beetle, who was slowly leading them farther and farther away from the mother. He gathered them up and set them next to the one dozing on her back with her feet in the air.

He swept his hand over the sleeping cub to roll it to its side and it tackled his hand in a heartbeat. The others joined in.

“You think I’m playing?” Though it took some effort to hold back a smile. Tristan lifted his hand and the kitten stayed firmly attached. He sat cross-legged next to the drowsy mother and the other kittens clawed their way up into his lap. “Don’t you know your belly will get fried in the sun if you lay like that?” He tickled the cub’s soft belly and the others leaped to the rescue. How could he leave? “Oh, no! The big mean dragon has your little sister! What are you going to do?” Tristan laughed as the two free kittens ignored the hand and went for his arm. He tipped over to be more easily conquered and let them climb higher to his shoulder.

He couldn’t tell if they were boys or girls, but they were all fierce players and their claws would be deadly in a year. Probably sooner. “All right, you little rascals, the wings are off limits.” He pried one of the cubs away from the tender flesh and used the other wing to create a bit of shade for the babies. “Nappy time.”

They tackled each other for all of thirty seconds and settled down to sleep, cradled in a pile between his arm and chest. Not that they needed to stay warm, but it was nice to have them all in one spot, so he could close his eyes and rest along with them.

The thought startled him.
Nappy time?

He’d lost track of his mission as quickly as the kittens had fallen asleep. He got to his hands and knees, careful not to disturb the kittens more than necessary. But where could he leave them? The mother was practically snoring and provided absolutely no shade. They’d bake in the sun and they had no water. It made no sense. How did they survive this long?

“Hey. You.” A giant paw twitched.

The odd thing was, he felt no fear about standing next to a sleeping mountain lion, holding her cubs. Not that he wanted to wake her, but still. She could rip him to shreds, but he’d just shift and swallow her whole. Then take her babies somewhere shady with water.

He sighed. Obviously she knew what she was doing, and he had no intention of raising her cubs. If he did, they’d probably turn out like domesticated housecats, which would do them no favors in the long run. He set them down gently by the mother’s belly and noticed the words scratched in his arm: Jacques. Home.

When he looked back at the mother, she was staring at him lazily.

“I have to go. If I see you again, please remember I mean you no harm.” He was sounding more and more like Donovan; the thought made him a bit homesick. He would not let himself forget the people he knew. “Be well,” Molajah would say.

The mother put her head back down. Tristan had to laugh. She probably had no clue what he was saying, and wouldn’t be bothered in the slightest if he never came back. These were human emotions that didn’t belong in the wild. Weren’t they?

He took a few steps back and turned to walk away, studying the horizon. Where would he go? The only place to get a better view of the land was straight up.

The nearest mountains were closer than he would have guessed. He circled high above the mother and her cubs once, just to make sure there were no predators lurking nearby. What did a mountain lion have to fear out in the wild? Not much, probably. In fact, she probably felt pretty safe knowing the dragon in the area wasn’t a threat to her or her babies.

Tristan laughed at himself. Victor and Landon would think it was funny. He would not forget them.

Jacques. Home.

His wings ached, even though the hot air rising from the desert made gliding unexpectedly easy. On the mountains ahead, there were trees and more greenery, and hopefully watering holes to drink from. The thermals giving him lift suddenly vanished and he plummeted several feet before catching himself.

Had he actually been dozing off in the air?

He shook off the sleep and landed roughly in the sage to give his wings a break. The mountains were barely visible from down here. Yet they seemed so close from the air. He could have sworn they were no more than a mile or two... but zigzagging through the sage seemed so pointless.

Tristan dropped to his knees and lay down within a few steps, pushing himself into the shade as much as he could. When he opened his eyes again, it was dark and one of the kittens was batting at his eyelashes.

Tristan tried not to laugh, and failed. “What are you doing here?”

A second kitten was near his feet. “Where’s the third?” His eyes shifted immediately and he sensed the mother cat a good five miles out, though he couldn’t tell if she was coming or going. He tucked the kittens into his shirt and flew to meet her. How did she even find him?

He landed in front of the cougar and took the kitten from her mouth before realizing she might object. He put the shivering kitty in his shirt with the others. “There. Now you’re all together and safe.”

Tristan’s gaze shifted to the mother, who seemed preoccupied with something in the distance. Tristan rolled his eyes. “Fine. Go hunt or whatever and find me in the morning.”

She leaped into action and ran away.

Tristan frowned. “Seriously? You’re going to leave your babies with the dragon?” He laughed at himself again. What better place was there? “Fine. I’ll babysit. But I’m not walking.” He’d flown the entire way and she found him—he had no doubt she could find him again.

The flying was tougher, without the heat waves pushing him upward, but he made it to the base of the mountain within an hour and set up camp in the first grassy area he came to. He’d let the mother decide where to go from here, being she must know things about the land that he did not.

“Is anyone awake?” Tristan asked, hoping something from the plant kingdom was nocturnal. “I’m looking for water. Any tips?”