Talon the Black (Dragonwall Series # 1)

Chapter 14 - Too Late

Battle Ground, Indiana

Claire was vaguely aware of estranged voices in her mind. Arguing. She wished they would shut up the hell up as she did her best to ignore them. Her body shook with sobs. She was draped over Cyrus. Nothing mattered anymore. She was numb to it.

Cyrus was dead, and it was all her fault. Cyrus warned her this would happen. He told her that his death was certain. Each warning was brushed aside and discarded. She refused to believe it before, and now she had no choice.

There were things she could have done differently, and maybe it would have saved him. Maybe they could have gone somewhere safer together—somewhere the Vodar wouldn't have found them. Maybe she should have insisted he go to the hospital and done everything in her power to get him there. She shouldn't have waited so long before shooting the Vodar. If she'd killed them faster. If....

Guilt settled into the pit of her stomach, making her sick. She was to blame for this. Cyrus was her responsibility, her patient, and she had failed him. "All those days sitting around chatting," she gasped between sobs. "I was so stupid! I wasted all your time with my stupid fantasies."

She lifted her head to look at his face, disgusted by what the poison had done to him. "I'm so sorry. So sorry." She collapsed across his chest again. "Please forgive me..."

You are not to blame, said a voice of reason.

"But I am! This is all my fault."

There were other voices too. Voices in her mind. She heard them just as clearly as if they stood beside her on the lawn. "Cyrus is there, Reyr!" said one. "He's dead."

She sat up and looked around, wiping her eyes with the backs of her bloodied hands. "Who is that beside him? His killer?"

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She was being watched. Someone could see her, but she could not see them. Her eyes darted along the cornfield.

"Gods above! It's a female! Probably an evil mage. Kill her!"

She found nothing—no one.

"When we we land, take her. Do not let her escape. Something isn't right."

Land? She tensed. Her gaze darted to the sky. She gasped, blinking. Three giant dragons were diving towards her, wings tucked to their bodies. Her mouth fell open. Their bodies morphed into men moments later. In an instant, harsh hands gripped her, dragging her up and away from Cyrus.

"No!" she screamed, fighting, trying to reach for him.

She was forced to her feet. The sharp edge of a blade met her throat in warning. She froze, the fight going out of her.

One of the Drengr fell to his knees, hands fluttering over Cyrus with care, examining his body. "No! It cannot be!" His body shook with sobs. Another Drengr stood beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. She couldn't see their faces.

These were his friends, she realized, and they were too late.

The one kneeling had golden hair, layers of thick locks that fell to the nape of his neck. The one standing beside him had brown hair with auburn highlights. She wasn't sure about the one behind her.

More tears fell down her cheeks. Cyrus believed himself forgotten. He thought no one would come for him, but they had. They were here. Little good it did!

Her body flushed with heat. "This is all your fault," she hissed, ignoring the blade at her throat. She struggled against the iron grip holding her. It was easy to place blame on someone else, and she was eager for it. "You're too late. Too late to save him. He's dead because you couldn't get here faster."