Chasing The Whirlwind (Dragon Within Book 2)
CHASING THE WHIRLWIND
Dragon Within: Book Two
BY KYRA DUNE
SHADOW PORTAL BOOKS
CHASING THE WHIRLWIND
Copyright © 2014 Kyra Dune
All rights reserved under International Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Shadow Portal Books, a division of Shadow Portal Productions, USA.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from Kyra Dune.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SPB First Edition
Cover Art by
Shadow Portal Productions
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like
to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy
for each recipient.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
SHADOW PORTAL BOOKS
CHAPTER ONE
I’ve been nervous lots of times in my life. Like in second grade, when I had to get up on stage in front of a crowded auditorium to recite my lines for the school play. I only had three, but I was so scared I would get them wrong and everybody would laugh at me.
Or the time at a friend’s twelfth birthday party where I was teased into playing Seven Minutes In Heaven and ended up in a broom closet with a boy I barely knew. A boy who, I am most happy to report, was no more interested in kissing than I was.
But nothing had ever twisted me up inside like the moment the airplane carrying me to my new life touched down on the little runway which serviced the compound. However, my anxiety was not only for myself. I glanced over at Derek, stretched out across two chairs on the other side of the narrow aisle.
He whimpered, not in his sleep, but in a drug induced haze which barely seemed to dull his pain. His skin was ashen and spotted with sweat. I couldn’t understand it. I broke my arm when I was seven, and I didn’t remember it hurting me as badly as his was hurting him. Of course, it was possible his fight with Megara had done more damage than we could see, I knew this, but I didn’t want to think about it.
It took us three days after facing off with Megara before we could find a small plane to rent. We couldn’t go back for Rick’s plane because it was broken down and we were too afraid she might find us there before it could be repaired.
Three days with no treatment for Derek’s injury but the mild painkillers in the first aid kit and Zack’s jacket as a makeshift sling to try and hold the arm still. If you’re wondering why we didn’t take him to a hospital, well, it’s kind of complicated. You see, I was supposed to be dead and it would have been hard to explain to the police why I wasn’t. Dangerous too. My faked death in a truck stop fire was to protect my family and friends from Megara, I couldn’t risk the truth being found out. Not even if it cost Derek his life. Maybe that’s sick and horrible, I don’t know. I can’t be objective about it. I’ll let you decide.
Anyway, nervous as I was at the idea of starting my new life, I was relieved when we reached the compound where Derek could finally get some real help. The airplane taxied to a stop and Alice hopped up from her seat, her magenta ponytail swinging.
She opened the door and turned to smile at me. “Come on, Abigail, Zack will take you to meet your grandparents.”
I stood, wiping my sweaty palms on my blue jean shorts. “What about Derek?”
“Rick and I will get him to the hospital. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”
Zack brushed past me and stomped out the door. He hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words since the fight, which I figured was all because I had insisted we bring Derek with us. Even before I met Derek, Zack had made it plain he hated the guy. What wasn’t so clear, was why.
Zack and I walked in silence from the airport down a paved road into a small town not much different from the one I grew up in. I don’t know exactly what I had expected the compound to be like, but I certainly hadn’t thought it would so normal.
The only weird thing I could see was what I didn’t see. Cars. I saw people walking and biking and even a few kids rollerblading, but nothing with a motor. “You don’t have cars?” I asked, unable to keep the shock from my voice.
“Only Council Members have personal vehicles,” Zack said. “There are also communal trucks and buses for use outside the compound. Within these walls, most of us walk.”
“So, is your motorcycle a communal vehicle?” The words felt weird on my tongue. Communal vehicle was not a concept which had ever crossed my mind before.
Zack made a face. “No. It’s personal.”
“Are you a Council Member?” I found the idea strange, and not only because of his age. Zack didn’t seem the type to be on some council discussing things. For one thing, he hardly ever talked, and for another he seemed more like the kind of guy who would break a rule, rather than enforcing it.
“You’re full of questions, aren’t you?” He was scowling again. This seemed to be his default expression, so I took no offense.
“Yeah, I guess I am. This is all kind of new to me, you know.”
He glanced at me. “I have the motorcycle because I’m a tracker.”
“What’s a tracker?”
“What does it sound like it is?”
Snappy much? I mean, jeez, I was only asking a question. He was so hard to talk to I probably would have given up on him already if he wasn’t so cute. Oh, don’t look at me like that, I bet you’ve put up with plenty to get closer to somebody you’re attracted to. Besides, it wasn’t only his cuteness which attracted me, he was also a mystery. A sullen, hot tempered, kind of dangerous mystery, all wrapped up in long, lean muscles, with dark, wavy hair and the kind of eyes a girl could... Sorry, lost my train of thought. What was I saying? Oh yeah, right, Zack was being snappy and rude.
“You don’t have to bite my head off,” I muttered. “If you don’t want to talk you could just say so.” The words barely left my mouth before he replied.
“I don’t want to talk.”
I shrugged and pretended to be fascinated with the stores we were passing. “Fine with me.” It wasn’t, really but what could I do about it? It’s not like I could make him talk and anyway, I didn’t want to irritate him. Something I seemed to be good at.
We turned down a tree shaded side street into a neighborhood of elegant homes much like the one my best friend Brandy lived in. I saw more people on foot, some talking on their cell phones, some walking their dogs, some seeming to be just enjoying the day. It was all so normal it felt like a dream. Why, you might ask? The answer is simple. All these seemingly normal people walking around in this seemingly normal town, were dragons.
Yeah, you heard me right. Dragons. No, I’m not crazy, but I don’t blame you for thinking so. I certainly thought it was crazy when Zack first told me. But it’s true. Only it’s not like you imagine. Not like the stories and the movies with the big flying, fire breathing lizards. No. Wrong. Dragons are people. People with certain powers. They’ve always been people, but being different, being not ‘normal’, made them the target for a lot of hatred.
All this stuff about scales and wings and destroying villages are nothing more than stories which were made up long ago to turn dragons into fearsome beasts. It got so bad the
y had to go into hiding, which was why my clan lived here at the compound.
My clan, you may ask? Yeah, that’s right. I’m a dragon too. Only I didn’t know until my sixteenth birthday rolled around and I came into my powers. As you can imagine, I was pretty freaked out by the whole deal. From that moment on, my life was forever changed.
At the end of the street stood a two story, white house with a pillared porch. I swear it looked like something straight off the set of some pre-Civil War movie. It did not look like it belonged in southern California, barely thirty miles from Los Angeles.
As I followed Zack up the steps, I half expected the door to be answered by a woman in a flowing white dress who would welcome me home in a soft, southern drawl. Zack rang the bell while I stood behind him chewing on my lower lip. What were these people going to think of me in my cut offs and tank top, with my blonde hair a mess, and a big bruise on my forehead that I got when Derek made me wreck my car?
The woman who answered the door was around sixty with graying hair pulled back in a loose bun. She was not dressed like a southern belle, but in tan slacks and a paisley blouse. She was smiling until she saw me. Then her blue eyes widened as she pressed a hand to her chest.
“Oh my god,” she breathed out. I silently prayed she wasn’t about to have a heart attack or something “Abigail, is it really you?”
“Uh, hi.” I lifted my hand in a feeble wave. I know, lame, right? Yeah, well, I would like to see you do better under such circumstances. It was a miracle I could talk at all when my mouth felt as dry as the Sahara Desert.
“Alastair,” the woman called out, her gaze never leaving my face. “Alastair, come quick. She’s here.”
I shifted my feet, wishing she would stop looking at me like I was her long lost granddaughter. Even though I was. It’s weird to have someone you don’t even know looking at you all teary eyed and it made me uncomfortable.
Footsteps echoed from inside the house. Alastair came to a stop behind the woman and he stared at me too. Have you ever read a book and come to a part where it said someone was beaming? I have, and I got to say until that exact moment, I had no idea what a ‘beam’ was. But I was pretty sure I was looking at one on the face of my grandfather. It was a smile all right, but stretched too wide. It looked kind of painful, like it was one quick twist away from being a grimace.
Alastair stepped past his wife, past Zack, and before I knew what to do, he was wrapping me up in his arms. When I didn’t return the hug, he let me go and took a quick step back. “I’m sorry. I’m just so...so overwhelmed. We knew Zack was bringing you home, but to actually see you...” He shook his head. “You look exactly like your mother.”
His words hit me like a physical blow, bringing tears to my eyes. I used to joke with my parents about how I didn’t really look like anybody in the family. I would insist I had been left on their doorstep by gypsies or aliens or something and we would all get a big laugh. But it had turned out my jokes weren’t so funny after all. In a lot of ways, finding out I was adopted was even harder to take than finding out I was a dragon.
“Doesn’t she look like Liza, Mi Mi?” Alastair asked, looking back at his wife.
She nodded. “Except for her eyes. She has Mike’s eyes.”
Hearing the names of my birth parents for the first time was a strange experience for me. I was torn between wanting to know more about them, and feeling as if wanting it was somehow a betrayal to my real parents, to Frank and Maureen Freeman who had raised me as their own. Who had loved me and taken care of me when I was sick. Who punished me for doing wrong and praised me when I did right. Who helped me with my homework and embarrassed me in front of my friends. Who loved me unconditionally. Because that’s what parents are. It’s not about some genes floating around in your blood or whatever, it’s about love. And I felt wrong for wanting to know about these people who died so long ago and had nothing to do with the person I had grown up to be.
Zack cleared his throat. “I don’t mean in intrude on your reunion, sir, but I have a few things I need to talk to you about. Things I couldn’t say over the phone.”
Sir? The word sounded weird coming out of Zack’s mouth. Why was he calling my grandfather sir and acting all... un-Zack-like? It occurred to me then, maybe my grandfather was someone important in the clan. Things had been so crazy since I first met Zack, and I hadn’t once thought to ask him any questions about my grandparents.
“It can’t wait until I’ve had a chance to speak to my granddaughter?” Alastair asked.
“If you say so, sir,” Zack said, his gaze fixed firmly on his shoes. “But I really do think it’s important.”
Alastair nodded. “All right. Mi Mi, why don’t you take Abigail inside and fix her something cold to drink? She must be exhausted after all she’s been through.”
A panicked flutter set up residence in my chest. I did not want to go off alone with this strange woman who looked as if she might burst into tears at any moment. I wanted to stay with Zack, where I felt safe. Which was crazy, because I barely knew the guy. I mean sure he was cute and all, but that was no reason to want to cling to him like he was a security blanket.
But I had no choice in the matter. Zack was walking off with Alastair and Mi Mi was motioning for me to follow her inside the house. I did so, but with great reluctance. The inside of the house was the same as the outside, all elegant and fancy. Everything gleamed and shone so I wondered if Mi Mi did anything all day besides working to keep the place spotless. I tried to imagine my birth father growing up here and felt kind of bad for him. It didn’t look at all kid friendly.
I found myself imagining my father as this uptight, proper kind of guy, raised in a strict environment his whole life, then going off to college and meeting my mom. In my mind, she was this rebel who brought out the wild side in him and taught him how to live. His parents wouldn’t approve of the match, so they had to run away together, leaving their family and clans behind in pursuit of true love.
It was all very romantic and exciting the way it played out in my head, but not terribly realistic. Derek was five years older than I was, so mom couldn’t have been this rebel child I was imagining when she met my dad. Not unless she was younger than me when she had Derek, which was possible but kind of creepy.
“Do you like lemonade?” Mi Mi asked as we entered the kitchen.
“Sure.” The room was all white tile and silver appliances and I was afraid to touch anything. I hadn’t had a shower in five days and I was certain I must be even grimier than I felt.
“Have a seat, dear.” Mi Mi indicated the table with its pristine cream colored tablecloth. A slim, silver vase filled with fake sunflowers rested in its center. “Make yourself at home.”
Yeah, right, like that was going to happen. This place was nothing like my home. I sat, folding my hands first on top of the table, then moving them to my lap in case that wasn’t good manners or something.
Mi Mi poured lemonade into two yellow glasses and brought them over. She sat down in the chair opposite mine and stared at my face as if she were trying to memorize every inch of it. I busied myself with drinking my lemonade so I wouldn’t have to look at or speak to her for at least a few seconds. But then my glass was empty and the silence was full. I looked at my hand wrapped around the glass. I couldn’t take much more of her silent staring. It was creeping me out. If she wasn’t going to say something, then I would.
“So, uh, my birth parents, their names were Mike and Liz?”
“Michael and Elizabeth. And I’m Naomi, but everyone calls me Mi Mi. Alastair is, well,” she laughed, “simply Alastair. He’s not much on nicknames, really.” Her expression softened. She reached out as if to touch my hand, then seemed to think better of it. “I’m so sorry, dear. I know how hard this must be. How much did Zack and Alice tell you?”
“The simple stuff.” I shrugged, working to keep my voice emotionless as I spoke. “I’m a hybrid dragon. The only one alive except Megara, who murdered my parents and
is now trying to kill me.”
“Oh. Oh my. They weren’t supposed to mention... her. We were hoping to ease you into that slowly.”
“They kind of had to mention her,” I said, “since she blew up a truck stop trying to get at me.”
Her gazed shifted to the bruise on my forehead as if she were seeing it for the first time, which was kind of hard to believe since she’d hardly looked anywhere but at my face since we met.
“You were hurt fighting Megara?”
“No.” I lifted my hand to touch the bruise. It didn’t hurt much anymore. “I didn’t do much fighting, actually. I got this when Derek made me wreck my car before he kidnapped me.”
Her eyes widened and I immediately felt like a jerk for making Derek sound like some kind of bad guy. “Oh, but he didn’t mean for me to wreck my car,” I said quickly. “It was totally my fault for not watching where I was going. Plus, he saved me from Megara even though he was hurt. And speaking of Derek, could you take me to the hospital so I can check on him? He was in pretty bad shape when I left him on the plane.”
Mi Mi pressed both hands against the tabletop. “Derek is here?”
“Yes, he is.”
I twisted in my seat to see Alastair standing in the doorway, his expression grim. No sign of Zack, which was way more upsetting than I wanted to admit, even to myself.
“He was hurt and Abigail insisted they bring him along,” he said. “She knows he’s Liza’s son.”
“Oh, dear.” Mi Mi clasped her hands. “This is all so...unexpected.”
I didn’t like the way they were acting. Not one bit. I’m mean, okay so Derek wasn’t their flesh and blood, but their son had married his mother, which sort of made him their grandson. They should have been happy he was alive or at least concerned to hear he was hurt. Instead they were acting as if Derek being here was bad news. It made me nervous. Made me wonder if Zack had some good reason to hate him after all.