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  “Return with me, now, and I will spare him.” His eyes glared and smoke seeped from his nostrils. Glossy black scales reflected the morning sun, as the enemy guns continued their battering of Fort Sumter, and Shaw.

  Time was running out.

  An idea popped into her head. If she eliminated the black bastard, and his threats against the man she loved, the humans would continue toward a natural end; an end not aided by a creature as mean, vile, and deranged as the Black Dragon.

  Humans were, for the most part, intelligent creatures. Their caring souls must fight their own battles. Had Shaw not told her in his own words that he had a duty to his men and his country, as well as her?

  She would do her best to give the humans a chance to fight, surrender, or find peace. To do so, meant she had to eliminate the Black Dragon and his threats. As one of her own kind, she cringed at the reality of aiding in his death. Their race neared extinction. However, Dru had decided quite recently to end her days in Shaw's arms.

  As a human.

  “Answer me, dragon. Or, I shall personally rip out his throat.”

  Revulsion, fueled by a sudden hate for the despicable creature hovering before her, drove Dru to dive toward Fort Johnson and its cannons.

  “Stop! Come back.”

  Dru prayed the Black Dragon would choose to follow her. Unfortunately, her death loomed as well. The trick was to manage to outrun her tormentor while avoiding the secessionist’s cannon bursts.

  Flames singed her tail. The bastard had taken the bait. She flapped her wings faster, then dipped and rose through the rising smoke.

  Dru called on her dragon senses to avoid the whistling balls flying by her head. She hovered and waited, listening. She hadn’t waited long when her ears rang with a sickening thud, followed by a horrific scream. Scales, blood, and flames rained down on her, yet a grin pulled at her scaly lips. Dru folded her wings and plummeted into the harbor before the smoke cleared.

  ***

  Shaw stood behind his gunners, as they finally fired Fort Sumter’s cannons. Even as wall after wall crumbled around them, the men stayed at their posts. The order to retaliate, anticipated ever since the enemy bombardments began before dawn, brought cheers from the men.

  We are at war, but not licked. Not yet.

  Supplies had dwindled, and the Fort was not as protected as Major Anderson had hoped. The three story high walls were built to withstand low flying cannons aboard enemy vessels. The batteries on the shore were able to lob their shells high, sending burning shrapnel inside the fort. Fires burned in several areas spewed flames and smoke. Their food-stores, sleeping quarters, and most of their ammunition were at risk. Morale was low ever since the soldiers learned that Major Anderson wanted the gunners to wait.

  The wait was over.

  At one desperate moment, while Shaw rescued a man overcome by smoke, cannon shells crumbled the floor above. He pushed the man to safety as bricks, mortar, and thick, black smoke rained down. Slammed against a wall, all breath whooshed from his lungs.

  In complete darkness, struggling to breathe, his thoughts drifted to Dru and their love. His chest ached, not from injury, but from one last chance to explain to her why they could not be together. She wouldn’t understand his need to stay with his regiment. Hadn’t she tried to press him to fly away with her? His men looked to him for guidance. How could he turn his back on them in their time of need?

  If I die defending Fort Sumter, so be it.

  Shaw prayed for Dru’s safety and long life, even as something warm and wet trickled down his face. The pain radiating down his back and hip could not compete with the sorrow piercing his heart. He would miss her. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. She was a joyful handful. His quiet life as a soldier certainly changed for the better once he’d kissed her in an alley.

  A kiss I shall never forget.

  Shaking dirt from his hair, he grabbed his hat from the rubble, and gazed around his makeshift tomb. Would anyone realize falling walls had trapped him? The thunderous roar of shells battered the fortress and sent more debris raining down, choking him in the dark cave.

  Before he could shout for assistance, the rocks and debris tumbled away. A shaft of sunlight warmed his face. He lunged toward the light, and freedom.

  “I'm here. I'm coming out.”

  As Shaw stepped into the light, a small hand pulled him under another shadow-filled archway. The guns in this area of the fort faced the sea, and were not in use. The eerie silence confused him until he noticed that he and his savior were alone.

  “Yer a mess, soldier.”

  Shaw, suddenly wrapped in a familiar embrace, breathed in a recognizable scent. His heart raced. “Dru?”

  Dru’s silky lips kissed his, and he drank in her heady taste. Inhaling her earthy fragrance, his lungs filled to bursting. She kissed him thoroughly, and he kissed her back with abandon before he pulled away, and coughed.

  “Are ye well, love?” she asked.

  Her face was barely visible, but fire blazed in her eyes. “Is it really you, lass?”

  “Aye. Blazes! When the wall collapsed, I thought ye were dead.”

  “Me, too. Thanks.”

  “Thanks? ‘Tis all I get for saving ye, ye wretch? And, what’s this?” She rubbed three fingers across his forehead. They came away wet with his blood.

  “Blast it! I'm bleeding.”

  She pulled him closer, then swept the hair from his face. Pulling him near a cannon hole in the wall, he saw the concern etched on her face. Her brow furrowed as she leaned in closer.

  “ ‘Tis a scratch,” she said.

  Shaw shook his head, and regretted the action immediately. “Blast it! My head aches.”

  “Then stop a’shakin yer head, silly.”

  He turned serious, and glared down at her innocent smile. “Why are you here? You could get hurt as well.”

  “Not me. I’m a dragon, remember? I am fast and tough-skinned.”

  He grabbed her upper arm and headed for the stairs. Not one corner inside the Fort was safe, not with shells constantly bombarding the disintegrating fortress’ walls. She wasn’t immortal, was she?

  “Can you die?”

  “Aye, but I doubt—”

  “You will leave. Now.” He pulled her up the stairs leading to the battlements, above. She’d leave even if he had to push her off the wall.

  At the top of the stairs, Shaw verified the area stood clear, then pulled her to the edge facing the sea. Cannon fire blasted the walls facing the coastal batteries, on the opposite side of the fort. Some landed inside and debris flew too close.

  “The only way I can assure your safety is to get you off this rock. Go!”

  “Wait,” she said, pulling back from the edge.

  “You have something to add before I toss you off?”

  Dru grinned, flashing a pair of fangs. “You’re worried about me?”

  The surprise in her expression made him hesitate. Had he not told her how much she meant to him? Her origins made no matter, he suddenly realized. He no longer thought of her as a mythical creature.

  A dragon from the isles of faraway Scotland.

  He’d grown up with the tales his parents brought from their homeland, yet here she stood. In the flesh, so to speak.

  Boom!

  The wall below them shook. Another cannon shell had found its mark and sent fragments of the wall skyward. The smoke blocked the sun and choked the air from his lungs, again. He carefully pulled her close to the wall’s edge.

  “This is surreal. We are finally at war, a civil war, and I'm more worried about a dragon.”

  “What dragon?” Dru cried.

  “What other dragon is there?”

  When she trembled beneath the fingers he’d clasped around her forearm, he turned and squinted at her face through the smoke. She refused to look him in the eye. “Dru?”

  “The Black Dragon.”

  “I knew it. A creature followed you the night you informed me of your true
origin. Who is he? Where is he?” The smoke cleared. Shaw peered over the edge, then up at the sky.

  “Shaw, please.”

  “Now, Dru!”

  “I…I knew him in Scotland. He is a vile, horrid creature who discovered me working at the Millhouse Inn. In his human form, he met with General Beauregard and his men. He assumed the shape of one of the general’s messengers. He was the bastard who wanted your soldiers shot.”

  “Where is he, Dru?”

  “He threatened me and I flew away toward the coast. I made it through the bombardment. He didn’t.”

  Her coy grin stole his breath. She’d risked her life? “You might have died as well. What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking to save your life. Besides, I was in no real danger. I’m a small and agile dragon. He flew too close to a cannonball. ‘Tis what he deserves for threatening ye.”

  “You were protecting me?”

  “Aye.”

  He swept aside his pride. She cared for him. She’d put her life on the line to keep another creature from hurting him. Shaking off his male ego, he hugged her. She melted into his chest, and he kissed the top of her head, even while more shells landed around them. A horrible thought brought his head back up. He peered over the battlement.

  “What if someone saw you?”

  “The cannons Fort Johnson fired had filled the air with smoke. Those soldiers will never know they blew him from the sky and sent his carcass into the briny deep. Good riddance, says I.”

  Shaw wanted to laugh, but laughing at someone’s death was not right, no matter how despicable the victim. He kissed the smooth human skin beneath her left ear. She trembled, and he gently pushed her away.

  “Dru, promise to return to Charleston. You and I are destined to live out our lives together, but not today.” He had no notion how they would accomplish an entwined future, but he vowed to make it work.

  “How can I leave my heart behind?”

  “Dru, trust me. I will not leave my men.”

  “Aye, so you’ve said.”

  “I’ll sleep better knowing you are safe and waiting for me.”

  “My heart says you speak the truth. How can I deny the love filling my heart for ye? I will wait for ye forever, if need be.”

  “The truth? I love you so much, Dru Little.”

  She stood on tiptoes, licked the bloody scratch on his forehead, then kissed him on the lips. “Yum, good enough to eat.”

  “Keep those fangs to yourself, lass.” He kissed her back, and slipped his tongue inside her mouth. The fangs had conveniently disappeared. He tasted the sea. Her earthy fragrance, usually reminiscent of cinnamon and apples, smelled of gunpowder and soot.

  “Please. Leave.”

  “I love ye, Lieutenant Stenhouse. Ye know where to find me. I will always find ye.” Dru stepped back and shimmered. A mighty Scottish dragon peered down at Shaw.

  He inhaled a deep breath, then forced a smile in order to speed her on her way. He had to make her leave before someone spotted her, or an errant cannon ball destroyed her.

  “Off with you, you cursed beast.”

  “Aye, my love,” she growled, “we shall be together soon. This accursed war cannot last forever.”

  CHAPTER 15

  April 14, 1861

  Two days later

  “Where have ye been, lass?” Maggie asked, placing the kettle on to boil. She returned her attention to Dru. “Ye been moping around and star-gazing for two days.”

  “I was…I overslept today. Sorry,” Dru whispered.

  “While ye have been sleeping, I’ve been talking with our early-rising patrons.”

  Dru hung her head. The guilt for shirking her duties for several days only added to her sorrow. Once she’d kissed Shaw, flown away from the fort, and had arrived back on shore, she’d refused to shed tears.

  “I’m here, now, and ready to help ye.” Dru forced a smile to pull up both corners of her mouth. Tying her apron around her waist, she walked over and gave Maggie a gentle hug.

  “Bless ye, lass. My nerves are frazzled, what with cannons blasting all around, a war a’starting, and them all drinking, laughing, and tellin’ tales about Fort Sumter.”

  “What did ye hear, Maggie?” Dru asked, perking up at the mention of the fort.

  “The commander of Fort Sumter has surrendered.”

  The blood rushed from Dru’s head. Her human heart thudded and the urge to fly drove her toward the alley door. Maggie suddenly blocked her path.

  “Child, think of what yer doing.”

  “He needs me,” Dru whispered. Her words rang false, even to her ears. If Shaw and his regiment had evacuated the fort, how would she find him? “Where are the soldiers?”

  “Rumor has it they left on a local steamer, heading for a rendezvous with one of them northern ships.”

  “You believe this?”

  “Aye. If taken prisoner, the secessionist troops would be a’marching those men down King’s Street.”

  Dru nodded in agreement. Inhaling a calming breath, she reluctantly filled jugs with cider and ale, then went about her duties. The tavern’s atmosphere was quite jovial. The men ate and drank while they tossed about several dire predictions, including how every man in the room hoped that the ship carrying the soldiers northward would sink.

  After the breakfast crowd dwindled, Dru returned to her tiny room to contemplate her next step. She peered out her window at the blue of Charleston Harbor. Eerie quiet had replaced the continuing boom of cannon fire. A salty breeze fought the baser smells of the alley. Could she smell Shaw from this distance?

  She sniffed, then laughed. The only way to smell his manly scent was to locate his ship and spy on him from high above.

  Dru gathered a few treasures—her best shoes, a small primer she was learning to read, the cherished bottle of shells—and pounded down the stairs to the kitchen.

  “Where ye off to, lass?” Maggie said, as she bent and placed a tray of biscuits in to bake. “Yer not aiming to go outside, are ye?”

  Dru shifted the bag hanging from her shoulder. “I am leaving.”

  “Leaving? With all them shells dropping and war a’brewing?” Maggie’s voice rose, and she glared at Dru.

  “The cannons are not aimed at us, Maggie.”

  “Aye. ‘Tis why staying right here is best.”

  “You said yourself the fort surrendered. I have not heard any cannons for hours. Ye do not understand. I must get to Shaw—”

  “Are ye daft?” Maggie crossed the kitchen and poked her head through the door to the dining hall. She turned back and propped her chubby fists on her hips. “He’s halfway to New York by now.”

  “I have to go.” Dru hugged Maggie, slipped by her, and headed for the door.

  “Wait. Take this.” Maggie reached inside the flour bin, grabbed a tied flour sack, then stuffed it in the bag on Dru’s shoulder. Dru kissed her friend’s cheek in thanks for what she assumed was day old bread for her journey.

  Shards of sunlight filtered into the corners as she marched toward the docks. Before she left the empty alley, she shimmered into a mighty dragon. Oddly enough, she no longer considered the wings, tail, and long snout as her real identity. Shaw’s love had shown her a new future. A better way of life.

  Finding him and assuring his safety would keep her heart from breaking. Their forced separation was fact. He would never leave his men. His actions reminded her of the fierce Highland warriors who gave their all fighting for their clans. Shaw’s accomplishments would make his Scottish ancestors proud.

  Grasping the bundle in her talons, she took to the sky. Within moments, she flew high above the wispy clouds. A single tear escaped as the city of Charleston grew farther and farther away. She would miss Maggie, of course, but nothing mattered except finding Shaw.

  Dru followed the coastline, and headed north. She squinted through the smoke drifting from her nostrils.

  There!

  A large vessel steamed northward. Flames thre
atened to escape from her throat. Before she could accidently light up the sky with her happiness and make her presence known, she tamped down the urge.

  Dipping low, she kept out of sight by hovering off the stern. The familiar flag that once flew over Fort Sumter, now flew from the large steamship’s stern. Dru’s throat constricted at the sight of its threadbare, fire-damaged appearance. She pulled her attention to an officer on the deck below the flag. She recognized the man’s swagger.

  Shaw.

  He paced the ship’s deck with long, sure strides. Agitation radiated from his stiff shoulders, and he clasped his fist around the hilt of his sword. With other soldiers as well as the ship’s crew milling about, Dru searched for an inconspicuous way to make him aware of her existence.

  His head rose.

  Though she rode silently behind a small bank of clouds, their eyes locked. Her heart pounded. She should watch for the other men, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from his hard-eyed stare.

  Then, Shaw tipped his hat and smiled ever so briefly. The weight of the world lifted from her scaly back. She flapped her wings and planned her next move.

  ***

  Over the next several days, Dru followed his ship until it sailed into what she assumed was the New York Harbor, and made berth. She skillfully landed between two smelly chimneys, close enough to the wharf to watch Shaw as he supervised the offloading of men and supplies. As dusk fell, she watched and waited.

  Her waiting earned a reward when he strode down a dark alley, alone. Dru, spying from a rooftop, understood his actions. Keeping her dragon self a secret meant Dru’s continued survival. Neither of them dare take any chances. His actions proved he really cared for her. When her senses ruled out other humans in the vicinity, she shimmered into human form and joined him.

  “Dru. You are safe.” He gathered her in his arms, then pressed gentle kisses across her forehead.

  Her human form melted into his warm embrace and she immediately felt at home.

  Home.

  Home was wherever she could touch Shaw Stenhouse. Charleston, New York, or the moors of Scotland—nowhere mattered more than the simple act of touching one another.

  “A simple thing, is touching,” she whispered.