Chapter 1

1

“ C ome out. Come out wherever you are,” the sing-songing voice of her friend danced upon the breeze as it blew through the canyon.

Trying with all her might not to laugh out loud, she tightly clenched her lips as her shoulders bounced up and down, and her whole body vibrated with excitement. It was so hard not to giggle and give away her location, but she was determined to win this round of their favorite game.

“I know you’re here, Abigail Annabelle Addams.” Stopping right before the low-hanging branches of a rather large Texas Madrone tree bopped her in the head, the blond curls flowing from the crown of her head floated like fairy wings as she snapped her head from side to side. “Don’t make me pull out the big wand. You won’t like it if I pull out the big wand.”

"You say that crap all the time," Abbie teased. "Like you need a wand." Chuckling, she threw her voice to the other side of McKittrick Creek, hoping to keep her friend guessing. "I can feel your Magic from a mile away, and you're not even using it. A wand would be a waste of Ashwood and space."

“Ha! I got you now.” Sydney Kavanaugh, the closest thing Abbie had to a best friend, barked with laughter. “You messed up and gave me a clue. You’re a mile away, aren’t ya’? You just told me to meet you here to keep me on my toes, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Teleporting to one of the top branches of an ancient Maple tree, she ended up about seventy feet in the air and loved every minute of it. She could see the land she loved for miles, and best of all, Syd would never think to look up.

Another flash and she was fifty yards closer and a few feet higher. Kneeling on the thick, sturdy limb, she took cover among the dense, brilliantly colored red, yellow, and brown leaves and tried to object, "I said…"

“You said that you could sense me from a mile away, therefore…”

“Therefore, you put two and two together and came up with fourteen.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Stopping short, the curvy blond propped her left hand on her hip, rolled her eyes, and shook her head. Then, with a twinkle in her bright blue eyes, she teased, “Like I said, don’t make me pull out my big girl wand. You know I’ll do it, ‘cause of how much I hate to lose.”

“Like I said, you don’t need-nor do you have a wand. And I know how much you hate to lose, but no matter what, you always play fair. So, buckle up, Buttercup. We’re about to have some fun.”

Standing up, she once again thanked the Great Creator and all The Powers That Be for her short stature. Being just barely five feet tall definitely had its advantages. She never understood why so many of her friends wanted to be taller. Abbie loved being shorter than the average bear. Not only could she hide in places others wouldn’t fit, but she also rarely bumped her head when she was exploring treacherous terrain and scouting locations for one of her many photo shoots. Getting the perfect shot had always been the goal, and there wasn’t much that stopped her.

From the moment her dad's mom, Grandma Mary, put a camera in her hand to help with the overwhelming grief of losing her parents, Abbie knew it was what she was meant to do. Through the lens of that Leica, the best camera money could buy at the time, and with the Enchantment she'd inherited from both her mom and dad, the world literally came to life.

She'd been asked to take pictures for the yearbook at school, and that had been fun. Portraits were okay, and candid shots could be fun because teenagers were such goofballs.

But her passion was always in the beautiful sites of the great outdoors.

Whether it was a landscape featuring the yellow blossoms of the Guadalupe violets that only grew on the vertical cliff faces she’d seen every day of her life or the Rainbow trout jumping and splashing in McKitterick Creek, that was where she wanted to be. Those were the images she wanted to share with the world. Everyone needed to see how special things could be outside their little bubbles.

She’d captured the stunning sight of a tornado tearing a path through the Chihuahuan Desert and even gotten a shot of the massive, lumbering, yet still incredibly elusive, Mexican Gopher Tortoise digging a hole on the apron of her burrow to lay her eggs. The subjects she sought out and the pictures she took spoke not only to her heart but also immortalized the beauty and majesty of things most people would never see. They told the story of the land she loved and the beauty that could be found if a person slowed down, took a deep breath, and realized the gifts of the Great Creator, the Universe, God with a capital G, and all The Powers That Be had given them when those incredible Beings breathed life into the big blue and green ball all living beings called home.

At eighteen, she ventured off the Reservation after being accepted into the very prestigious Photography program at the New York Institute of Photography. She would always remember the day she got the letter. It had been the surprise of a lifetime, and she would spend her life thanking her Grandmother for it.

The squeak of the screen door as she pulled it open always made her smile. No matter what kind of day she'd had, that sound told her that she was home. Most thought she smiled because she and Grandma Mary had forgotten to buy WD40 so often that it had become a joke amongst all their friends and family, but they couldn't have been more wrong.

That whine of aluminum rubbing against aluminum said, 'You've done it. You're in your happy place, Abbie Addams.' And the genuine, heartfelt happiness came when Marilyn, the mixed breed Chow Chow she’d rescued ten years earlier, raced down the long, galley-like breezeway with a twinkle in her eye and so much unconditional love in her heart that it made her golden and auburn fur shine in the fading rays of the sun.

The breezeway, sort of like a sun porch, was narrow and long, with windows on one side to let the beautiful sunlight in to wash away the shadows. Behind those windows that were a bugger to wash, there were screens.

Grandma threw open the windows at the first warm breeze, letting the cool winds carry in the glorious aroma of the bluish violet Gayfeathers and bright red blossoms of the Cardinal flowers from the Guadalupe Mountains. It was glorious and just one of the many perks of living on the Res.

Opposite the windows were knotty pine panels that had been put over the red brick to allow for decorating. Of course, Grandma Mary had hung hooks for coats and jackets, made rows of short steps from the hardwood of a fallen tree for muddy boots, and collected loads of mismatched, eclectic furniture that somehow all fit together just the way she wanted them to. That porch or breezeway or whatever anyone wanted to call it became the unofficial welcoming room for any and all who came to visit pretty much the day after it was built, and it was Abbie's favorite place in the whole house.

“I’m home, Grandma,” she called out. “It’s my turn to cook. Whatcha want for dinner?” Not waiting for an answer, she kept right on going. “I was thinkin’ we could try out that new brick oven the MacAllen boys built. Doesn’t a homemade pizza sound ah-mazing? I’ve been thinking about it all day."

"Anything works for me," Grandma answered, sunshine in her voice. "But first, you need to come here. I've got something important to show you."

Furrowing her brow as she ruffled Marilyn’s fur, Abbie whispered, “What is she up to, Girl?”

Grumbling, her version of talking, the Chow Chow mix rubbed her nose in Abbie’s outstretched palm, looking for the treats she knew were in the young woman’s pockets. “Yeah, well, I have no clue what you said, but you can have your cookies anyway. I know you’ve been waitin' all day.”

Tossing one of the heart-shaped treats into the air, she clapped and cheered when Marilyn jumped so high her feet left the ground and snatched the treat between her teeth. “There ya’ go! That’s my girl.”

Loving that her furry friend yipped and danced on her hind feet after devouring the treat, Abbie handed the pup another and headed toward the doorway into the kitchen. Stopping when both feet were barely over the threshold, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

Inhaling sharply, she held her breath while taking in the most extensive array of camera equipment she'd ever seen anywhere other than the Photo and Hobby Shop on Mills Avenue in downtown Valentine. From a first-rate leather bag with a crossbody strap, to lenses of every variety, to a tripod so new she'd only seen it in a trade magazine, there was so much stuff she didn't know where to start.

Gaze flying to her Grandmother’s, she breathed, “What is…? How did you…? I can’t even…”

“You can’t even finish a sentence?” Grandma Mary laughed, her smoky voice so filled with love and adoration that Abbie’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re at a loss for words? Wow! That’s a first.”

Before she could ask the matriarch of the Addams Family what was happening, the older woman was off her stool and across the room with a smile so bright it rivaled the sun over Guadalupe Peak. Handing her an envelope, she ordered in the most loving way, “Open that thing before I lose my mind. Even though I know…” She tapped her temple with the tip of the index finger of her free hand. “…what it says, I still need to see it in black and white.”

Doing as she was told without the slightest hesitation, Abbie tore into the envelope, pulled out the tri-folded paper, and with a flourish that rivaled Indiana Jones’ crack of a whip, she had the fancy, embossed stationary flat on the counter in less than a minute.

It took several starts and three complete readings of the letter before she looked up at her Grandmother in complete shock. "But how can this be? I didn't…"

“You didn’t have to,” Mary Addams proudly announced. “I did it. I put together your portfolio, filled out the application, and even got letters of recommendation from your teachers, Principal Shultz, and the Mayor himself.”

“But how did you know…?”

“Darlin, haven’t you learned by now that nothin’ gets past me?”

Opening her mouth, not sure what was going to come out, Abbie was almost happy when her grandma once again cut her off. “I promised your momma and daddy that I would take care of you. From the day your momma found out she was pregnant, all those two ever talked about was wanting the best for you. They wanted to make all your dreams come true. They…” Stopping as her voice cracked, Grandma Mary inhaled deeply, smiled the smile Abbie had come to count on, and exhaled.

Running her fingers through the tight salt and pepper curls atop her head, she nodded, “Kari and Andrew wanted you to be proud of your heritage, to accomplish all your dreams, and to be whatever your little heart desired–no matter what that happened to be.” Moving closer, she laid her hand on Abbie’s shoulder. “They are looking down from the Heavens with such pride. Can you feel it? I know I can.”

“Yes, Grandma, I sure can feel them.” Closing the scant distance between them, Abbie pushed up on her toes and hugged Mary with everything she had.

Pulling back when Marilyn whined and pushed between them, she knew her eyes were full of unshed tears as she looked at Grandma and confidently professed, “Thank you so very much. I’m gonna make all of you so proud.”

“Oh, darlin’, you already do that every day, in every way.”

Forcing herself out of one of her happiest memories, Abbie walked as close to the end of the branch as she dared. Smiling down at Sydney, it was all she could do not to laugh out loud. The poor dear was looking everywhere but up. She used tiny bits of her immense Magic to delve under rocks, piles of fallen leaves, and even into the creek. Sadly, nothing worked, and she got more frustrated every time she came up empty-handed.

“Time to make my grand entrance,” Abbie whispered to herself. “And claim the victory once and for all.”

Still cloaked by the thick foliage and a good amount of the N?nn?’h? Enchantment that filled her heart and soul, Abbie floated to the ground. The second her feet touched the Fluff Grass growing on the banks of the McKittrick Creek, she let go of the Magic keeping her invisible from her friend, stuck out her tongue, then happily teased, “Nanny-nanny-booboo, I got you!”

“Yes!” Sydney laughed. “I do so love that trick. I don’t even care that you beat me. I just love when you do that, and someday you’re gonna have to teach me.”

Leaning forward, Abbie waggled her eyebrows and, in a conspiratorial whisper, teased, "I could teach you, but then I'd have to kill ya’. You know how us Little People are.”

Unable to hold back her laughter any longer, she loved that her bestie thought her joke was just as funny as she did. Their goofy sense of humor was just one of the many things they had in common. From the first time they’d met, Abbie and Sydney made each other laugh so hard that they had tears running down their faces and were gasping for air. It was always a party every time they were together.

Waiting until their last case of giggles dwindled, Abbie tried to get tough, and with her best Brenda Lee Johnson impression, she questioned, "Okay, give it up. What the hell are you doing all the way out here when your momma just gave birth to your baby sister? I mean, yes, the Chihuahuan Desert and the Res, well, pretty much all of Texas, is God's country, but what the heck? I can't even imagine how you got away without Lance tying you to a chair while Sam cheered him on as she threw questions at you like they were bullets from a Tommy gun. The little bit I know about your momma says that she would want a blow-by-blow account of the last ten years of your life."

Chuckling all over again, Sydney shook her head and bumped her elbow into Abbie's as they turned toward the path to the Reservation and started walking. "It was nothing like that." Her shoulders slumped, and her voice took on an almost haunted tone. "They didn't even know I was there."

"They what?!" Stopping mid-step, Abbie spun to the left. Gently grabbing her friend's upper arm, she turned the blonde and added, "How did you accomplish that? What happened? Are you okay?"

"I didn't accomplish anything. Something weird happened. Really, really weird. Mind-blowing even." Inhaling deeply, she assured, "Yes, I'm fine. Thanks for askin’, kiddo.

"Well, it had to be oh-my-God weird and then some for you not to, at the very least, see your mom, dad, and new sister. Spill, Girl. Spill! I'm 'bout to bust over here. My mind is workin' overtime, and nothin’ it’s comin’ up with is good.”

“I’m spillin’,” Syd sighed. Then, to let her buddy know she was irritated with herself and not her, she quickly added, “And you’re right, it was oh-my-God weird and then some.”

Nodding toward the large rocks on the banks of the creek, the blond slowly put one foot in front of the other, and Abbie slipped into step beside her. Patience was never something the Photographer possessed, unless it had to do with getting the perfect picture and it was even worse when she was nervous or knew someone she cared about was in pain. It was all she could do not to ball up her fists, pump them in the air, and yell, "Just put me out of my misery and tell me what happened so I can come up with a way to make you feel better."

Thankfully, she didn't have to lose her mind or her self-respect because, at that moment, Sydney started to explain. "Halfway to their house– our house –with all the guys from dad's Force, all their Mates, and pretty much every other Dragon, human, and everybody else in the whole Clan racing with us, my feet just stopped. They simply refused to move. I was stuck in place with everybody zoomin’ past me, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.”

“What the hell? Was it…?”

“Nope, it wasn’t Magic of any kind, not Black, not White, not anywhere in between,” Syd answered even before Abbie finished. “It was like nothing I’ve ever felt before–good, bad, or ugly.” Pushing the curls on the right side of her face behind her ear, she looked out at the stream as it rushed by and finally picked up where she’d left off. “I was just about to yell for help when my heart skipped about four beats, and it took everything in me just to draw a single breath. It was like I’d been gut punched by some invisible force, and there wasn’t a darn thing I could do.”

Bending at the waist, she plucked a flowering weed from the ground and fiddled with the petals. "I even had spots dancing before my eyes like I got one time when I flew too high with one of the Oracles. I knew something wasn't right, but I also knew Mom and Dad and the baby needed everyone more than I did." Audibly inhaling then exhaling, she added, "To make things even weirder, it was like no one saw me standing there. No one stopped to ask what was wrong? Not even the guy, one of the MacAllen Dragons who was at Rayne and Kyndel’s. They just ran past me without so much as a sideways glance. ”

"Okay," Abbie drew out the word, unsure what else to say.

Smiling as her friend slid her eyes to the right, looking at her through her long, dark eyelashes, the Photographer added with a snicker she hoped would ease her friend's troubled heart, "Besides, if you had been in real trouble, Shavon or one of the other Oracles or Special Beings or whoever lives up there in the Citadel would’ve come flashing out of the Other Realms and saved your booty, right?”

"Yeah," Sydney nodded, her eyes getting back some of their usual luster. "I thought of that after the fact." Snorting a sarcastic laugh, she continued, "But in the moment, I was freakin’ out, then I heard Garrett’s voice.”

“Like Garrett-Garrett? Your…?” Jumping to her feet, her finger moved between them so quickly that it was little more than a blur. “…Mate? The one man made for you by the Universe? Your hunka-hunka….”

“…burnin' love Dragon Man?" Syd chuckled, and that made Abbie snicker. "Yep, that's the only Garrett we know."

The Photographer couldn’t stop the wheezing laughter that slipped from her lips. Hunka-hunka-burnin' love was what she called her Fated Mate because she didn't know his name. She knew absolutely nothing about him except that when he wanted to, the dude could sprout wings and scales and blow flames in every direction.

It was exasperating at best and downright irritating if she thought about it too long. Just like everything that came along with being a Supernatural Being, there was mystery, intrigue, and a stark lack of hard evidence to put to anything. All she knew for sure was what she'd been told by one of the three N?nn?'h? who appeared on her twenty-first birthday.

Thankfully, she'd known they were coming–not a definite time, but the date was as good as written in stone. It was more than legend. It was a fact, and for that, she was grateful. However, what bothered her more than a little bit was that out of everything important the N?nn?'h? said, all the instructions they gave, the only tidbit they dropped about her Mate, the man made for her by the Universe and the Great Creator, was that he was a Dragon Shifter, one of the Universe’s Chosen Warriors, a Dragon Guardsman.

Sure, she'd begged, badgered, and tried to outsmart the N?nn?'h?, but it got her absolutely nowhere. Those Immortal Beings, known as The People Who Will Live Forever by the Cherokee Nation, were more tight-lipped than Santa and his Elves the day before Christmas–which also just happened to be Abigail Annabelle Addams's birthday.

Being born on Christmas Eve wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She just thanked the Heavens that her parents hadn’t given her a hokey, holiday-themed name. That would’ve been too much to handle and not befitting the N?nn?’h? she found out she was destined to be.

Likened to the Fairies of the English world, the N?nn?'h? were so much more to those blessed to carry the Blood of the Cherokee Ancestors within them. They were the Benevolent Ones. They cared for the lost and wandering, guiding them safely home from wherever they happened to be. They also protected the people forced to relocate to other lands and safeguarded them from harm.

The coolest thing was, for the most part, the N?nn?'h? stayed invisible. If, by some miracle or the need of those they were assisting, they had to be seen, they always resembled the person they appeared to–in most cases, pretty much every case, it was a member of the Cherokee Nation or a relative .

When Abbie first realized that she’d inherited the heart and soul of the N?nn?’h? from her mom, she could not have been happier. Not only was she one of The People Who Would Live Forever, but she finally understood where her love of nature, music, and dancing had come from and why she possessed the unquenchable desire to spread happiness everywhere she went. Oh, and it also shed light on her need to protect life in all its many forms and help anyone and everyone in need who crossed her path. It was as if her eyes had been opened, and she'd been introduced to another side of herself–an important side.

Of course, the N?nn?’h? had given her some parting advice and ended with, “When the time is right, you will understand everything we could not tell you. Be happy, A-da-ge-yu-di , for you are more special than you can ever imagine.”

Being called ‘beloved one’ in the Cherokee language had been sweet, but did they have to make everything a riddle? Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Abbie understood at least a little bit of her destiny.

Less than a week after the three N?nn?'h? visited, she had a dream that further portrayed the importance of The Immortal Ones, The People Who Would Live Forever. It also explained why, even though Abigail Annabelle Addams was a true member of the Cherokee Nation, she had a beautiful mane of long red hair. The dream had been so real, so vivid, that she never forgot the feel of the cool, dry breeze of the desert on her cheeks or the way the soft cotton of her gown wrapped around her legs.

Brushing the tangles of long, auburn curls from her face, Abbie looked upon the battleground she’d visited many times. However, on this occasion, it was very different. There was no wrought iron fence, no plaques paying homage to the brave men and women who’d lost their lives, and no bronze statues of the Timber Wolves and Dragons who had fought alongside those of the Thorntree Tribe to protect their lands, their home, and their people.

No, on this fateful night, one lone woman stood in the center of what had originally been a pasture. Facing her were at least twenty figures surrounded in an evil, malevolent, swirling fog that obscured some of the long, grotesque shadows they cast.

From her place on the sidelines, Abbie could just barely make out the true silhouette of the leader. Ten feet tall if he was an inch, jagged, misshapen horns jutted from either side of his head. His nose and mouth formed a ghoulish snout, but it was the thick, pitted tusks jutting from his bottom lip and curving until their steely points almost touched the rotting flesh beneath his eyes that gave her pause.

Then, a viscous blob of horrific goo dripped from those massive tusks. Everything moved in slow motion. Abbie's heart stopped, and the breath was frozen in her lungs as the globule that glowed a fluorescent green in the moonlight fell to the ground.

The smattering sizzle broke the spell. Everything moved at the speed of sound. The blob exploded like an atomic bomb. A mushroom cloud filled the air with noxious fumes. The dark, dense, almost impenetrable smoke spread like wild fire. It was everywhere.

And that was when all Hell really broke lose.

The leader threw back his head. His bottom jaw unhinged, falling onto the scarred and disfigured flesh of his enormous chest. Fire, brimstone, and ash flew from his lips, reigning down and torching every living thing as his battle cry ripped through the airwaves.

Dropping his head, the monster–that’s the only name she could think to call him–raised the staff, topped with a contorted skull, high in the air. Waiting for a single beat of her heart, the bastard’s head snapped to the side.

Spearing her with a look so evil she felt it in every fiber of her being, his crimson eyes glowed, blood flowing from their depths as he growled, “Kill them all!”

Everything happened so fast that it took years for Abbie to piece it all together. The Skeenah, as she found out they were called, Shifted into all sorts of mismatched, animated creatures from the depths of the Underworld. They advanced on the single female Warrior still standing tall in the middle of the battlefield. Their hate–a living, breathing entity Abbie felt in the depths of her soul–drove them faster and faster. Even the most hideous of them, the ones with the most unrelated, mutilated parts, ran so fast they were impossible to track.

Unable to scream, her mouth was opened so wide that her jaws ached. There simply was no sound, no mist from her breath, absolutely nothing as she tried with all her might to warn the beautiful Ditlihi–Chosen Warrior– to move… to act… to do anything to save her own life.

Just as the Skeenah were about to descend upon her, a bright, white light filled every atom, every particle, every molecule of absolutely everything. In the blink of an eye, in every square foot of the battlefield, stood a Cherokee Warrior. Ditlihi one and all, they moved together like a well-oiled machine. Their formations were perfection. It was instinctual. Each knew what all the others were doing without so much as a glance or a thought.

Surrounding the Skeenah, the Ditlihi never drew a weapon, never raised a hand, and never said a word. The only movement they made was a single nod and one solitary stomp of their right foot.

The ground beneath the feet of the Skeenah opened into the biggest, deepest crater she could ever imagine. Flames shot into the air. Tentacles, dripping with black, oily, fetid blood, slithered and slid from the hole, wrapping around the Demons until they were nothing more than undulating, variegated flesh.

In one coordinated effort, the tentacle constricted. The bloodcurdling howls of agony and torment attacked her ears as whatever unholy essence had animated them was squeezed from their bodies. Pulled into the crater with a single, swift tug, the Skeenah were gone as quickly as they’d appeared.

Eyes snapping to the Ditlihi, she found only the stunning, stoic redhead as a reassuring voice floated through her mind. "Dear Abigail, I feel the Spirit of the N?nn?'h? alive within you and the Soul of the Great Thorntree Timber Wolf standing guard. We are one, A-da-ge-yu-di. Remember this night. Remember this vision. You are the Hope. You are N?nn?’h?.”

The snap of fingers pulled Abbie from her thoughts. Eyes meeting her friend's, she immediately grabbed Syd's hands and apologized. "I am so sorry! I don't know what is going on in my brain. That is the second time…"

“That’s the second time your memories have taken over when you least expected it and refused to let go until they’d shown you what you didn’t know you needed to see.”

“Okay.” Drawing out the word, she opened her eyes wide. “You didn’t ask. You said that like you knew.” Squeezing Syd’s hand, she added, “So, what gives? What aren’t you tellin’ me?”

“Well, hold onto your hat, my friend, I may not know much about the People Who Will Live Forever, but after almost ten years with the Oracles, I’ve picked up a few things. When your memories start talking, demanding to be heard, something big, monumental, life-changing is about to happen, and… ”

“And…” Abbie begged and demanded in the same breath.”

“And I’m pretty sure I met the Dragon made for you by the Universe.”