Wait Till Your Vampire Gets Home

by Michele Bardsley

  Stan led us into the RV’s gleaming, well-stocked laboratory. I sat on a stool and watched Stan prepare what he needed to take samples. Ralph stood nearby, just an arm’s length away.

  “I thought the hospital had all the bells and whistles you need,” said Ralph. “Why are we here?”

  “The workers over there play with my toys,” said Stan. “And break them. Do you know how long it takes to replace a gas chromatography-mass spectrometer?”

  “I can’t pronounce it, much less figure out how to replace it,” said Ralph.

  “Exactly. So I do my more sensitive work here.” He looked at me. “This is where I worked full-time before the other lab was built. I kinda missed it in a weird way.”

  “I miss a lot of things, too, Uncle Archie,” I said. “Mostly being able to make my own decisions.”

  He shut up.

  I didn’t really want to play nice. Just because he’d gotten away with carving on me and I’d saved his life (sorta) didn’t mean we were going to be pals again.

  Stan withdrew several vials of blood, swabbed my cheek twice, and yanked out a few strands of hair.

  “Ow.” I rubbed my scalp. “Aren’t you gonna pull Ralph’s hair, too?”

  “Yep.” Stan reached over and plucked a few of Ralph’s locks.

  “Gee, thanks.” Ralph scratched his head.

  “I’ll need blood, too. And cheek swabs.”

  After he was done tormenting me and Ralph, Stan stood back. “That should do it. I hope to isolate what in your blood has affected Patrick. And figure out if your DNA has changed.”

  “Do you really believe . . . we’re part dragon?”

  “Yes. I think you believe it, too.”

  All this talk about me being hybrid, any kind of freaking hybrid, made me want to talk to my mom. She always knew how to comfort me.

  “I don’t know a lot about dragons,” said Stan. “Like Ruadan said, they’re rare. You know, Libby, the thing I most admired about your parents was how open they were to the supernatural possibilities. I thought you would be, too.”

  “Don’t tell me how to feel about this,” I said. “I’ve spent my whole life studying the paranormal world. It’s one thing to hope for it, and another to see it with your own eyes. And now you’re telling me I’m paranormal.”

  “You should be thrilled,” said Stan.

  “And you should’ve been blown up.” Ralph put his hand on my shoulder and I calmed down. I sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry, Stan. I’m glad you’re not dead. Well, you know what I mean.”

  Even so, whatever friendship we might’ve resurrected had died on the surgical table, the one he put me on without asking.

  Was being a dragon so ridiculous? More ridiculous than falling in lust with a vampire or living in a town run by the loup de sang, or even being attacked by dragons?

  “Can we go?” I asked Ralph. “I don’t like it in here.”

  “Sure.” Ralph ushered me out of the lab, and Stan followed us. He opened the door and I stepped out, happy to be free of the claustrophobic RV.

  “How long until you get the results?” I asked.

  “A few hours.”

  “That’s fast,” I said. “Doesn’t it normally take much longer to do those kinds of tests?”

  “Not with my equipment.” Stan touched my shoulder. I turned to look at him. “I’m sorry, Libby. I really am. For everything.”

  I wanted to forgive him, but I couldn’t. Maybe I just needed more time.

  “I appreciate what you’re saying,” I said. That’s all I could give him, and he seemed to realize he wasn’t getting absolution.

  I followed Ralph off the stairs. Behind us, I heard the door shut. No more lab, needles, poking, or prodding. Tension drained, and I sighed with relief.

  Ralph looked at me. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay. Thanks.” I got the warm fuzzies all over again. He really was my advocate. I blinked at him. “Hey . . . uh, you’re getting a little fangy.”

  “Sorry. I haven’t eaten yet.” He looked at me, then at the Honda. “Do you mind stopping at my donor’s?”

  I didn’t want him to starve, even though breakfast for Ralph would be a tasty human. He would be gnawing on someone’s neck. I was kinda jealous.

  “Sure. As long as I don’t have to watch.”

  “No problem.”

  We walked toward the car.

  “I meant to ask how you got the windshield replaced so fast.”

  “Simone Sweet. She runs the garage. She keeps lots of replacement parts on hand.”

  I heard the soft, low sounds of music. Fire singing, and it was familiar. Yes. The same music I’d heard during the blast that killed Stan.

  Ralph stopped walking, then turned to me, his gaze questioning.

  “I hear it, too,” I said.

  A red dragon swooped out of the sky. With one big, fiery breath, it blew up Stan’s white minivan.

  The blast threw us to the ground. Coughing and wheezing, I sat up. I was shaken and gritty, but not hurt. The same could not be said for Ralph. I scrabbled toward him and checked his carotid pulse.

  Oh, right. No pulse.

  “That was Linda’s van!” Stan was hanging out of the RV door. His gaze was on the destroyed vehicle. “She’s gonna kill me.”

  “Not if the dragon does first,” I called. What an idiot.

  The dragon turned its big, horned head in the direction of the RV. The creature was the size of a bus. Its red scales shimmered in the firelight. Its aura was black. I could discern it from the night sky easily. Dragon vision? Whoa.

  The heat from the fire rolled over me. The odd music blared, rising and flowing and beckoning. We are one, it whispered seductively. Join with me, daughter. Let me show you beauty. Let me give you life.

  “Get out of here, you moron!” I yelled at Stan, who was still gaping at the destruction. “Don’t let the damned lab get blown up again!”

  “What about you guys?” he cried. “Come on!”

  I knew there was no way I could drag Ralph the twenty or so feet to the RV. If Stan tried to help us, he could get killed. I already knew that fire couldn’t hurt me and Ralph, but Stan would be barbecued vampire in an instant.

  “Just go! Hurry!”

  The dragon issued an unearthly shriek. Twin streams of fire shot out from its nostrils and skimmed across the top of the RV.

  “I’ll get help!” Stan slammed the door. Seconds later the RV started up and sped out of the parking lot.

  The dragon returned its attention to us; we made much easier targets. I stood up and grabbed Ralph under the arms. I dragged him toward the Honda, which wasn’t exactly great protection. But there was nowhere else to hide.

  I barely made it a couple of feet.

  Fire engulfed us.

  Chapter 14

  I dropped Ralph and covered him. His body was lifeless. No breath, no heartbeat, no warmth.

  Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and thought about how much I didn’t want to die. And then I thought about how often my life had been in jeopardy since coming to Broken Heart.

  I cracked open my eyes. The dragon’s flames flowed over us. Fire tore at our clothes with hot, sharp claws. I could feel its heat, its stinging caress on my face and hands, but it didn’t burn me. The flames rolled along our exposed skin with lover’s fingers.

  “Stop,” I shouted, unsure who I was talking to. The dragon? The fire? The little voice in my head telling me I was nuts?

  The fire was extinguished instantly. I could control it. Well, hell. I guess I was a dragon after all. That was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to me, and that was saying a lot.

  I crawled off Ralph, the acrid smell of burned plastic and charred metal plugging my nose. Our clothes were singed, but otherwise okay. I could taste the soot, feel the magnetic draw of the fire. I had to resist its call.

  For Ralph.

  Once again, I grabbed him under
the arms and heaved him toward the Honda.

  With a snort of its nostrils, the dragon turned the soccer field behind us into a lake of fire. How much longer would we survive? Panic squeezed me, but I refused to give in to it.

  I got Ralph to the car. My hands were shaking and my head was filled with the fire’s song. I prayed the dragon wouldn’t attack us again. We needed the car to get away. I wondered if Stan had called for help, and if so, when the hell it would get here.

  The passenger door was locked.

  Shit, shit, shit. Ralph had had the keys in his hand. Where were they now? I didn’t have time to search the parking lot.

  My mind raced. The heat of the torched car battered my back and legs. Sweat popped out of every pore. Dragonfire was damned hot. And yet, it felt so good.

  I wished I had my purse, but it had never been returned. I had all kinds of useful tools inside it, including just the item I needed to unlock the passenger door. Instead, I took off my coat, wrapped a sleeve around my hand, and punched the edge of the window. Tempered glass never shattered when hit in the middle, but the edges were weaker. My dad had taught me that.

  I unlocked the door and kneeled on the driver’s seat, leaning over to take Ralph under the arms and pull him into the car. I got him settled and strapped on the seat belt. I sat down, heart pounding.

  Why hadn’t the dragon attacked again? It was only a matter of time.

  Ralph was still unconscious. At least I hoped he was only unconscious. Weren’t vampires supposed to be fast healers? Not to mention he had an affinity for dragonfire, too. If it didn’t hurt me, then it shouldn’t hurt him.

  My dad had also taught me how to hotwire a car. Luckily, the Honda was an older model, so it was easy to pluck out the needed wires.

  The engine turned over. Yes!

  Something rapped on my window.

  “Aaaaaaahhhhh!” My heart nearly stuttered out of my chest. The fire song was menacing now; its perilous tones made my hair stand on end. I didn’t want to look, but I did anyway.

  The man standing next to the car was more than six feet tall and built like a linebacker. His eyes were completely black. His clothing was odd; the iridescent material gleamed like a million jewels. The color was very similar to . . . oh, crap. He wasn’t wearing clothes. Those were scales.

  He was the dragon. The one who’d killed the woman at the cemetery.

  “I will only tell you once,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Get out.”

  I nodded and smiled and revved the gas, my hand on the gear shift. I looked behind me and whipped the Honda into reverse, pressing the gas hard. The tires spun as the car fishtailed wildly.

  If this had been a movie, I would’ve expertly whipped the car around and sped away. Instead, I went twenty miles an hour, the car weaving. I had forgotten to turn on the lights, but I didn’t want to try and risk wrecking us.

  I stared over my shoulder, trying to maneuver toward the exit, when I heard a big whump. The front of the car dipped. Startled, I turned around and saw the man crouched on the hood.

  He placed his palms on the car. Purplish blue light emanated from his hands.

  The engine died.

  “What’s going on?” asked Ralph groggily.

  “Something really, really bad,” I said, frantically turning the wheel back and forth, my foot pressing the pedal to the floor. The car didn’t budge.

  I saw Ralph’s eyes widen. “Get out,” he yelled, echoing the demands of the dragon. He wrestled with the seat belt, but I knew it was too late.

  “Can’t you hear the song?” I whispered. Our death dirge was woven inside it.

  Gripping the steering wheel so hard my fingers hurt, I sucked in a shaky breath. Fear jitterbugged through me.

  The dragon walked to the passenger side. He leaned in through the broken window, his empty gaze on mine. “I don’t repeat myself.”

  He ripped off the door and flung it over the car. It scudded across the parking lot. Vaguely, I noticed the red dragon still circling above us.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “You.”

  “Leave her alone!” Ralph tried to push him away, but the guy didn’t move.

  He grabbed Ralph by the shoulders and ripped him out of the car, seat belt and all.

  “Ralph!” It took precious seconds to get out of my seat belt. I stumbled out of the car and rounded it, not sure what I planned to do.

  The dragon flung his magic at me and, suddenly, it was as if I was welded to the ground. I couldn’t move my feet.

  Helpless and frustrated, I watched as he threw Ralph to the ground and banged his head again and again against the blacktop. The fifth time his skull bounced off the parking lot, he passed out.

  “Ralph!” I looked at the dragon, my eyes hot with tears. “Don’t hurt him, please.”

  “Give me your power now or I will remove his head.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “My sister gave you her dragon soul. You have all her power. And, it appears, her morality.” He chuckled. “Give me her power and I promise your deaths will be quick.”

  “That’s quite the bargain,” I said. “But I can’t give you my power.” I really couldn’t. I didn’t know how to do it. His sister had kissed me, and I sure as heck wasn’t about to kiss him.

  His smile revealed double rows of needle-sharp teeth. The better to eat you with, my dear. He walked to me and grabbed my shoulder, dragging me closer and looking at me like I was crud he’d scraped off his boot. His meaty hand gripped my shoulder, and he raised his other hand. Ralph’s limp body rose into the air and slowly spun in a circle.

  “Give me your power, or I will kill your lover.”

  “I can’t!” I screamed. My heart thundered in my chest, and fear squeezed my insides. I had no doubt that this dragon-man meant what he said. I’d seen this in the movies a dozen times. The bad guy got what he wanted, then killed the hapless victims anyway. Our lives were forfeit. I couldn’t help but think of his twin sons, who’d already lost their mother.

  “I’ll give you my power,” I said, “if you promise to let Ralph live.”

  His answer to my request was to drop Ralph onto the pavement.

  “Libby?” Ralph was awake. He rolled onto his side, his gaze lifting to mine.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “It’s okay.”

  Then Ralph lifted his hands and fire shot from his palms. The flames wrapped around the dragon’s head. He was more startled than harmed by the action, but he let me go. I scrambled toward Ralph, who got to his feet, keeping his fire aimed at the dragon. I stood behind him, feeling helpless.

  “Vampire fire is weak,” said the dragon-man. “Would you like to see real power?”

  He lifted his hands, and I knew we were gonna die.

  Take Ralph’s fire, daughter. The fire wasn’t just singing now. It was offering instructions. It will protect you.

  I wrapped my arms around Ralph’s midsection and listened with all my heart to the fire. Flames surrounded us. Safe. We were so safe. Our fires joined—mine orange and Ralph’s red—and those strands of security wound together.

  Light exploded around us.

  I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against Ralph’s back. He held on to my quivering arms.

  The heat was intense.

  “No!” shouted our enemy. “No!”

  I could hear the fire protesting his magic. I knew, from the wavering music, that our bubble of protection would weaken soon.

  I smelled burning cotton and felt my clothes peel away from my body. I didn’t want to look. Ralph and I could withstand the flames. Our clothing, however, wasn’t dragon-proof.

  I don’t know how long I stood there waiting for our protection to dissolve and the bad guy to cut us both down.

  The music changed. The menacing song of the dragon-man disappeared. I heard the triumph of our fire rise up like a choir of angels.

  Then the fire was silenced.

  “Libb
y?” Ralph’s voice was hoarse.

  “Yeah?”

  “You okay?”

  I didn’t get a chance to answer. I heard shouting voices and feet scuttling on the blacktop. And then an Irish-tinged voice yelled, “Over here.”

  I opened my eyes, too afraid to let go of Ralph. All the fire was gone—the minivan, the soccer field, our shield, too.

  Sparks floated around us like dancing fireflies. Ash filled the air like snow—our clothes.

  Oh, jeez. We were practically naked.

  The only clothing left between us was the piece of Ralph’s shirt where my cheek had been pressed. Nearly everything else had burned away.

  I peeked over Ralph’s shoulder. The only thing I saw was Stan and his friend in the silver suit.

  “Aw, crap,” I muttered.

  They aimed fire extinguishers at us and white foam spurted. The nasty chemical puffs covered us from head to toe.

  Well, at least we weren’t naked anymore.

  Chapter 15

  “No offense, Patsy,” said Ralph, “but nowhere in Broken Heart is safe. Not even the mansion.”

  We were wrapped in blankets and sitting on the trunk of Ralph’s car. I was so tired. Ralph was feeling better because a donor had arrived and let him nosh. That’s why he’d been so easily knocked out—he’d been weakened by lack of blood.

  I was hungry, too, and I wanted meat. I was ashamed I craved the cooked flesh of an animal, but the desire was there. Steak. Medium-rare. I was salivating at the thought.

  Patsy, Gabriel, the scary green-eyed dude, and Lorcan stood in front of us. Other people ran around the area, doing what I didn’t know. Nothing was salvageable here. We’d gone over what had happened a hundred times, but they kept asking questions and picked at parts of our story. I knew they were trying to find something—anything—that would help them prepare for the next attack.

  The dragons would be back. Everyone knew it.

  “This whole situation has gotten bigger than all of us,” said Patsy. “But you’re right, Ralph. I don’t know where safe is anymore.”

  Ralph and I wanted to go back to his house and chill out. I wanted a shower. And I wanted to pretend to be normal for just a little while.