Charred Hope (#3, Heart of Fire)

  Charred Hope

  #3, Heart of Fire

  By Lizzy Ford

  http://www.GuerrillaWordfare.com/

  Cover design by Sarah hansen

  http://www.OkayCreations.com/

  Mobi EDITION

  Charred Hope copyright ©2014 by Lizzy Ford

  http://www.GuerrillaWordfare.com/

  Cover design copyright © 2014 by Sarah Hansen

  http://www.OkayCreations.com/

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  Chace couldn’t sleep, even if he wanted to. Every time he tried, his heart thumped so loudly that he wasn’t able to fall asleep.

  Figures my heart is keeping me awake.

  A few weeks before, when he’d had no heartbeat, he’d been thrilled to hear the first thud. Now, it was like a ticking clock, a reminder that time was passing, and he was helplessly watching it run by him. It wasn’t just the sound keeping him awake this night, but the pain, too. In the solitude of privacy and beneath the curtain of night, he wasn’t able to ignore the ache that pierced him like nothing before ever had. Without his lair, he never really felt safe anymore.

  He came here instead to think. Seated on a charred chunk of cement at The Field, he stared into the night sky overhead. It was chilly in the deserts of southern Arizona, but he didn’t care. The soft glow of warm light came from the once-magic bar a short distance away, the place they’d hoped to make a stand against the slayers three days before, only discover their issues were much, much worse.

  Dragons soared through the night and perched on nearby hills, keeping an eye on the bar and its surroundings, while nocturnal panthers and other great cats loped between the watch points as a secondary layer of defense. Without the magic of the dragon king to protect it, the bar that acted as a refuge for shifters was stranded in the middle of the desert, its location known to all their enemies.

  Because I have no power. The thought no longer filled him with anger or sorrow or any other emotion that left him frustrated. He’d spent the past few days getting over his feelings and now focused on how he was going to change things for the better, if it was even possible.

  “You keep coming back to this spot,” his best friend, Gunner, said, approaching with the silence of the panther shifter he was. He sat down on a piece of the demolished compound nearby.

  “I’m missing something,” Chace said, gaze dropping from the sky to his surroundings. “It’s here. Somewhere.” Only dark lumps of melted metal and smashed concrete blocks remained of The Field. They hadn’t found as much as a pen that wasn’t irreparably damaged, let alone a computer or file cabinet that might offer some clue as to where the slayers’ secret location was.

  “We’ve been over the ruins a million times,” Gunner said.

  “I know.” Chace rose and walked a short distance. “There’s got to be some clue as to where Mason took her. It’s got to be here.”

  Light from a half moon dusted the dark shapes of saguaro cacti and other bushes around The Field. Nothing stirred, aside from the four-legged sentries circling the small valley.

  If you have any sort of mercy, I could use some, he thought at the stars. He missed soaring close to them, peering down at the world.

  His eyes closed, and he imagined what it was like to feel the cold air currents ruffle the fur lining his scales and tug at his wings. He yearned to soar in the heavens again, for the sense of freedom he always experienced when he was flying. Fire blazed through his bloodstream when he was in dragon form, and he sought some small trickle of the magic, praying it remained.

  It’s useless. With a sigh, Chace opened his eyes and focused on the desert. His brow furrowed at what was in front of him. About fifty meters away, a familiar, boxy shape had appeared out of nowhere.

  “Cabin?” he asked skeptically. “Is that you?”

  One window lit up in response. Chace’s heart almost stopped, and he stared, shocked.

  “What’re you talking about?” Gunner asked, twisting to look in the direction Chace did.

  “You don’t see it?” Chace asked, doubting his own eyes.

  “No. I rarely did, though.”

  “True.” Chace strode forward, his long legs closing the distance to the cabin fast. Taking the steps two at a time, he paused in front of the door, elated to see his long time friend.

  His hand shook as it rested on the cold, metal doorknob. He drew a breath to steady his excitement then opened the door.

  Abruptly, the cabin disappeared. He fell the few feet to the ground, jarred by the unexpected drop.

  Chace caught his balance, puzzled. He’d not only seen the cabin but also touched it. It was real, or had been, for a few seconds at least.

  He turned all the way around, spotting the small cabin about a dozen feet away, between him and the hotel.

  “Cabin?” he asked again. “What’s going on?”

  Though it had never spoken to him with words, it always found a way to communicate with him.

  This time, the window and the porch light flickered on, as if the cabin was welcoming him.

  Chace started forward with more caution. He reached it and climbed one stair, waited, then climbed to the top. After another short pause, he went to the door. The lights stayed on strong, the boards beneath his feet solid. Assured the cabin was real, he opened the door.

  And found himself dropping to the ground for a second time.

  “What the hell?” Chace grimaced. He spun, eyes falling to the cabin.

  All its lights were flashing quickly in a communication he recognized as the lair laughing him.

  He ignored Gunner’s chuckle.

  “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” He folded his arms across his chest. “Is that really necessary?”

  The lights all flashed brightly then went dark.

  “Okay. So … you’re pissed at me.” He wiped his mouth. “You gonna tell me why? Or just keep dropping me on my ass?”

  The cabin didn’t respond.

  Damn, moody, passive-aggressive, PMSing cabin. Chace sighed.

  “I missed you,” he admitted gruffly. “A lot. We’ve been together for a thousand years. I never knew how … good that was, until you were gone from my life.”

  One light came on, as if the magic in the cabin was listening.

  “I’m sorry for abandoning you in Oregon. And … for not thinking of you at all when I traded in my magic. It was a selfish decision, one I’ve regretted every second of every day since I made it,” he continued in a softer tone, troubled. “I really missed you. Not because of everything you’ve done for me, but because in some really twisted, crazy way, you’ve been my friend for a thousand years.”

  The front door creaked open to reveal the familiar, cozy, well-lit interior of his home. Knowing how quickly his cabin changed moods, Chace warily approached and ascended the steps once more. He took a tentative step into the interior.

  With relief, he realized the cabin had forgiven him.

  Mostly.

  All his furniture was rearranged, and it had emptied the contents of all the
cupboards and cabinets onto the floor.

  He almost ordered it to clean up then realized it wasn’t right to take advantage of his friend the way he had his whole life.

  “I’ll clean up,” he said. “Pizza?”

  The oven door opened to reveal its glowing interior. The scent of a freshly baked pizza rolled over him. He breathed it in, grinning.

  “Thank you,” he said. “You’re a good friend. A damned moody one, but a good one nonetheless.”

  The oven snapped shut. Chace ignored the mini hissy fit and went to work cleaning up the mess his cabin left him.

  I wish it was this easy to apologize to Skylar.

  His gaze lingered on the door, and he wondered again how she was. Where she was. How he was going to find her and help her.

  What happened if his magic didn’t return, and her luck ran out.

  You’re a dragon, Chace. Why didn’t you help us? Her broken tone and the memory of the hurt in her gaze haunted him every minute of his day. The words played over and over in his mind.

  Chace paused in place, kneeling to pick up a roll of trash bags the cabin seemed to be trying to use as a streamer to decorate the place.

  “I can see it,” Gunner called from the foot of the porch stairs. “I’m afraid it’s mad at me, too, or I’d come in.”

  “Pretty sure it’s only mad at me. Come on up,” Chace replied.

  Gunner did so cautiously and entered. “I’ll let you clean up your own mess this time.”

  Chace shot him a glare.

  Gunner grinned and threw himself down in a chair in the living area, content to watch.

  The scent of his late night dinner soon filled the air, like it often did. Chace was comforted by the flavorful smell and grateful to set foot again in the cabin that had been his home for so long.

  “I told you I needed to be here,” Chace said, sorting his belongings into piles.

  “Yeah. You were right. Wonder how it found you. You’ve got no magic, right?”

  Chace tested himself. No fire trickled or poured into his blood, and he shook his head. “I don’t feel it, but I know it’s there. I was able to heal myself and Sky. I don’t get it.”

  “Did you ask dragon-daddy at any point?”

  Chace didn’t answer. Skylar’s father, Gavin, had told him what it’d take to regain his magic, and he didn’t yet have a clue how to go about winning over the forgiveness of a woman who had too many good reasons to be mad at him.

  “Hey, is this yours?”

  He looked up at Gunner’s curious voice to see his best friend holding up a cell phone. Gunner tapped it, and the screen lit up. A picture of Sky was the wallpaper.

  “No.” Chace rose, drawn to the image of her smiling. He took the phone and studied it, not recognizing the all-black case or the clothing she wore in the picture. “This picture looks old. I can see The Field in the background.”

  He unlocked the screen with a swipe of his thumb. Only the basic apps had been installed on the phone, and there was a text message waiting. He tapped the icon.

  C- I programed Sky’s new number into the phone. I’m not the bad guy here. - Mason

  “Mason!” Chace exclaimed, his breath catching. He showed the message to Gunner, who frowned.

  “Oy. I do not get a warm fuzzy about that cat,” Gunner said. “Why would he do this?”

  “If it’s real, I don’t care.” For the second time within ten minutes, Chace’s insides trembled with excitement. “First cabin, now Sky.”

  “Test it first. Make sure it’s her that responds.”

  For a split second, Chace heard the hum of magic in the air around him. He cocked his head to the side, uncertain how to interpret it.

  “I think cabin is saying it’ll be her,” he said. He gazed at the cell phone, not daring to hope he’d soon know how and where Sky was.

  “What’re you waiting for?” Gunner’s amused question pulled him out of his thoughts. “Send her a note.”

  Chapter Two

  Skylar sat up in her narrow bed, unable to sleep. Starlight slipped through the spaces between the blinds of her small room, and she folded her legs onto the bed. It was warm enough in the hideout located in the mountains of northern Arizona. The setting outside the compound’s tall fences was peaceful and quiet, filled with pine trees and a natural lake whose waters were a muddy green during daylight.

  Every night since the skirmish between griffins and dragons, nightmares had jarred her out of sleep. She kept witnessing her father fall to his death in an attempt to save her life. Over and over he fell, and over and over she experienced the sense of free falling and despair.

  I didn’t even really like him. She barely knew him and didn’t exactly see eye to eye with him … but he was the only family she’d ever known. It wasn’t easy for her to try to process her emotions. Chace should’ve been there for us.

  “That’s not true,” she whispered into the quiet room. “He lost his magic. He couldn’t have helped Gavin, even if he wanted to.”

  Then what hurt? Her father’s death of course. Yet something about Chace hurt, too, and she wasn’t able to pinpoint what. She couldn’t get Chace’s parting words out of her thoughts.

  I love you, Sky. Nothing you do or say to me is going to change that, he’d said.

  He’d meant it. As flawed as Chace admitted to being, he did love her. Would he be there if she needed him again as promised? Because she sensed the day approaching when she was going to need the backup.

  She sighed. Aware she’d get no more sleep this night, she dressed quickly and left her room, exiting into a long hallway lit by fluorescent lighting.

  There were many mysteries about the compound she hadn’t been able to figure out. The most important one: why they let her roam around without restriction. Mason, her slayer-turned-shifter quasi-friend, said he trusted her to remain with them until she’d learned what he needed her to.

  She did stay, and a part of her thought it was as much because she needed to uncover what was going on as it was because she had nowhere else to go.

  Leaving the barracks, she tugged on a jacket and walked out into the quiet night. Within the compound was a small picnic area where she’d found the perfect table to sit on to look out over the lake. The air smelled of pine trees and muddy water, and a cool breeze tickled the back of her neck.

  A tingle went through her, an indication that a shifter was close. She’d been growing more aware of them as the days passed, able to pick up the individual signatures of shifter magic as the creatures moved around the compound.

  “I keep forgetting cats are nocturnal,” she murmured.

  “Your ability to sense us is getting stronger.” Mason’s dark purr came from nearby.

  You have no idea. In the three days she had spent at Mason’s compound, she’d been surrounded by shifters all day, every day. She could not only sense them around her, but she’d begun to identify which shifter it was. It was instinctive, like a tiny whisper that came from the depths of her soul. Not only did she know their names before she saw or spoke to them; she also knew what kind of animal or creature they shifted into. It was a gift stemming from her role as the Protector of shifters.

  For someone who spent most of her adult life capturing and caging shifters, she wasn’t certain how to view her awakening gift or the responsibility that came with it, especially when she had no shifter magic of her own. In the past, every Protector had a champion – a dragon of immense power, capable of enforcing order among the shifters.

  Her champion had no power. She had no influence or knowledge about how to use her emerging skills.

  The world she was supposed to protect was about to plunge into civil war, one that would threaten the human population as well as potentially wipe out the shifters.

  And I’m supposed to fix this? Not for the first time, she grew angry with her deceased father for taking his secrets to the grave.

  “You haven’t answered my question, Sky,” Mason said, drawing her attention
from her thoughts.

  She twisted to see him. His skin was as dark as night, the same color of his fur, when he shifted into his black lion form. She wanted to trust him. Wanted to trust someone after her world was turned on its head.

  But Mason?

  “It’s none of your business, Mason,” she replied.

  “We’ve been friends for a few years, and it’s none of my business if you’re okay?” There was familiar frustration in his voice.

  “Friends don’t betray friends.”

  “I did my best to protect you along the way.”

  “I know. I can see that in my dreams,” she said, meeting his dark gaze. “I don’t know what to think about that either. You knew I was brainwashed, went along with it for six years. I don’t really feel like thanking you right now.”

  “I get it.” Mason took a deep breath. “I don’t blame you. This didn’t end up how it was supposed to, though.” He moved silently to the picnic table and sat beside her.

  “You killed Dillon’s dad. What did you expect would happen?” she asked. “He’s always been on the edge of snapping.”

  “I know.” Mason appeared troubled. “You haven’t said anything about … you know. My shifter ability.”

  “I thanked you for helping defend us,” she said. “I don’t know what to think about everything yet, Mason, including what you want me to do. If what you say is correct, and this war between griffins and dragons has returned, I don’t think it’s possible for you and the other slayers to play nicely with the shifters. You’ve done too much damage caging them over the years, especially with the dragons.”

  “I can hope.”

  She studied him, saddened that her friend had kept so much from her. Mason had taken care of her in more ways than she knew over the years, but she wasn’t able to overlook the pain of his betrayal and all he’d hidden from her.

  “Maybe not hope,” he added. “Maybe … make amends is a better phrase.”