The Dracove (The Prophecy series)

by N. L. Gervasio

  “Yes, please do get on with it. You’ve disturbed my beauty rest.”

  “Is that what you call it? Well, you’re still as ugly as you’ll ever be, dear.” Dana smiled. They were all alike, so incredibly vain.

  Shealynn shrieked, lunged, and knocked the Katana from her hands.

  It happened every time.

  Dana sometimes wondered why she even carried the damn thing.

  Shealynn turned around and attacked again, her foot heading straight for Dana’s head. Dana ducked and flipped backward. Her feet landed on the wall. She pushed off, somersaulted and twisted in the air, landing flat on her feet in the center of the room, facing her enemy.

  “I didn’t know mortals could do that,” Shealynn said.

  Dana raised her eyebrows. “There’s a lot you don’t know.”

  “No matter, you’re already dead.” Shealynn jumped at her.

  “I believe you’re the one who’s dead.” She counter-attacked, kicking her mid-air. Her foot slammed into Shealynn’s chest. The vampyre fell back and landed hard on the floor. She jumped to her feet and spun around, looking for her. Dana came up from behind. Shealynn turned and grabbed her arm, blocking the dagger coming toward her back.

  “Oh, you’re good, and quiet. How’d you manage that? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a vampyre.”

  “I had a good master.”

  Shealynn back-handed her across the room. She hit the wall and dropped to the floor beside the dagger. Shealynn walked toward her, but stopped halfway with the most curious expression upon her face.

  “Who was this master?”

  “Mako,” Dana replied. She knelt before the vampyre. The dagger lay concealed beneath her leg.

  “I don’t believe this.” Shealynn threw her hands up in the air and clapped yet again. “I had the privilege of killing him, and now I get to kill one of his pupils? Oh, this is too good.”

  A surge of anger swept through Dana’s body, but she suppressed it as much as she could. “Why’s that?”

  “Because, I’ll bestow upon you the same honor I gave him—a slow and painful death. He killed many of my kind, my family, and for that he had to suffer greatly.”

  “Sounds exciting,” she said, trying to keep her distracted.

  “Well, for me, yes. Not so much for you, I’m afraid, unless you’re into that sort of thing.” Shealynn tilted her head and grinned.

  “You talk too much.”

  “Yes. I suppose you’re bored again. I guess I’ll kill you now and get it done with so I can go back to bed.”

  Dana smiled at her. “Go ahead you ugly bitch, kill me if you can.”

  Shealynn leapt through the air in a full rage. Dana moved her leg, picked up the dagger by the blade, and threw it with lightning speed. It plunged into Shealynn’s heart. She dropped to the floor. The dagger embedded deeper into her chest when she hit the floor, and she screamed. Dana jumped up, flipped over her to the Katana and picked it up in the midst of a cartwheel. On the balls of her feet, she quickly turned. Shealynn began to crawl across the floor. The older ones were never completely paralyzed with a pierce to the heart. She ran toward her, jumped, somersaulted mid-air, and landed beside her. Dana brought the blade down, severing her neck.

  Shealynn’s head rolled a few feet before it stopped.

  That’s why I carry the Katana.

  “That one was for you, Mako.” She kicked the body and pushed it over with her foot. Leaving her foot on Shealynn’s chest, she bent over and grabbed the handle of the dagger. “I’ll take my dagger back now.” She extracted it from Shealynn’s body and walked over to the head.

  “You lose.” She pulled out a lock of hair and threw the head across the room with a grin.

  She wiped the blood from her weapons and put them away. She walked over to the curtains. This will do. She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. A green flame appeared, and she moved her hand to the curtains. They ignited immediately. She turned around and walked out of the house with her Katana, dagger, and a lock of Shealynn DiGrassi’s hair safely tucked away in a vile.

  From a safe distance, she watched the house burn to the ground. She had to be sure even though she took the vampyre’s head off and took the hair. When the house was nothing but ash, she jumped into her Jeep and drove off.

  Now, what was she saying about a quest? She wondered who Shealynn was talking about. And I didn’t have the power to stop him. She tried to piece the puzzle together. That I’ve never had the power to stop him—

  Her mind drifted to when Shealynn read her thoughts. It’s daytime, how? I didn’t know they could do that. She wondered what else they could do when the sun was up. It was bad enough the sun didn’t kill these older ones, but now she discovered they could use some of their powers when it was daylight. It would seem the older they were, the more they could do. She was going to have to tell the others about this.

  The power . . . .

  He almost killed me once before. So many of them had almost done so, but she’d killed them all.

  The power . . . .

  . . . almost killed me once bef—

  THE POWER.

  She slammed her foot down on the brake pedal and the Jeep came to a screeching halt on the asphalt. The Jeep slid, throwing her tail end out a few feet to the side.

  “Mother of all vampyres!”

  She picked up her cell phone and pressed the first number on speed dial. “Well, more like ‘Father’, but whatever.” Danny picked up on the other end after a short ring.

  “Wasabi, Ni?”

  “Hey bro, I need all the information you have on MacLeer, and I mean everything you can find.”

  “Why, what’s up, Dana? Did you find him again?”

  “I think we have a problem, if not yet, very soon.”

  * * * * *

  Cianán sat on the floor with his legs crossed, eyes wide open, not seeing what was before him, but what was in his mind’s eye. He watched Shealynn talking to the Asian woman, Yang. The slayer who had tried to kill him a few years back.

  The vision paralyzed him. He knew Shealynn was about to die, and he could do nothing to stop it. It was meant to be.

  He chuckled when he heard Shealynn speak of Mako, remembering the master slayer very well. He was present the day Shealynn killed him. And Mako did suffer; he made certain of it. He wished Shealynn hadn’t mentioned his quest, though. Yang was not a simple-minded woman and would figure it out. He didn’t have a problem with killing her. On the contrary, he would enjoy every minute of it; however, he hoped it wouldn’t interfere with his plans. If so, he’d have to send a few of his elder children to deal with her. She shouldn’t be able to survive two or three attacking her at once. To be certain, he’d send ten.

  In the vision, the dagger plunged into Shealynn’s heart. She’s grown soft. He clutched his chest, feeling her pain. At one time, she was a great warrior.

  Shealynn fell to the ground. He spoke to her . . . My beautiful Amazon; I wish I could help you.

  I know, my lord, she said in her mind. I’ve lived long enough. It’s time for me to die.

  Cianán smiled. She was always a brave woman and he’d miss her greatly. You’ll be with your sisters again, Shealynn. Always know I love you.

  I love y—

  The blade fell upon her neck.

  His mind went black. He doubled over on the floor, feeling as though his own neck had been severed.

  He shut his eyes tightly and sat back on the floor where he’d been meditating before the vision came to him. A single tear fell down his cheek for the woman who, at one time, had been his lover.

  “Yang must die.” He rose to his feet and walked out of the room.

  Grant found Kylie in her garden. She seemed so peaceful staring out at the desert. Her mind must be wandering—No, wait, something’s wrong. Damn. He wished his powers weren’t so weak during the day. Sometimes, only sometimes, he could catch random thoughts, but of course, not when he needed to. With her, it was
only when she allowed him to, which made it even more difficult. She didn’t know she was blocking him in the first place.

  He sighed. Guess I’ll just have to do this the way normal people do. He walked over to her and knelt at her side, placing his hand on her shoulder.

  She jumped and covered her heart with a hand. “Oh God, Grant, you scared me.”

  Her jump knocked him off balance. He righted himself and smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Are you okay?”

  She stared at her palms, as though she saw something there. Her eyes shifted away, giving the impression she didn’t like what she’d seen.

  Concern swept through him, and he attempted to see into her mind once more. He caught tiny fragments of thoughts. It was enough to tell him Cianán was the cause of her turmoil. I’ll kill him.

  “Kylie, are you okay?”

  “What? Oh . . . no,” she said quietly and shook her head.

  He brushed her hair back with his fingers. “What is it? Did something bad happen?”

  “Sort of . . . .”

  “Tell me,” he urged calmly.

  She looked into his eyes, and told him about Cianán and what had happened on the phone earlier.

  I told him to stay away from you. If he hurts you—

  “I guess I was right,” she said, a weak smile forming on her lips.

  “About what?”

  “I told Ana last week that he was probably some psycho-nut-freak.”

  Grant laughed. His laughter brought a genuine smile to her face.

  “Well, I wouldn’t worry too much,” he said to console her. Let me worry for you.

  She looked at him curiously. “He reminds me of my last boyfriend. He wouldn’t leave me alone, that’s why I moved so much. I wish . . . .”

  “What?”

  “ Nothing.”

  “Come on, Kylie, what do you wish?”

  “It’s really nothing.”

  “Didn’t I tell you, I can grant wishes? Hence, the name ‘Grant’.”

  She giggled. “I wish . . . I wish that you could stay here with me . . . until you leave.”

  He watched the muscles in her face tighten. She braced herself for the rejection. “If that’s what you want—”

  “I don’t know what I want, Grant. I just know that for some reason, I feel safe with you. I feel like I’ve known you all my life and I don’t understand it.”

  He smiled and stroked her hair. “What about after I leave? I don’t have to leave, you know. We could stay right here.”

  * * * * *

  Mahlon strolled along the winding path of his garden. He brushed a hand against the foliage and flowers—roses, he loved roses—and continued down the path to the ancient stone bench situated before the small pool in the ground. He looked up to the sky and breathed deeply of the cool, crisp air. Daylight would be gone soon. He watched the clouds move swiftly, changing in shape and color. He saw them differently than others. To him, they slid across the sky in fast-forward, or perhaps it was that he moved slower than everyone else, when he chose to.

  He sat on the bench and stared into the pool. Gradually, a white mist formed across the top of the water, spreading to cover the pool completely. He threw a couple of stones into its depths. The water didn’t ripple, but the mist separated, leaving the center open to him so he could see.

  He didn’t really care to look into the portal. He knew what Cianán had been up to. It troubled him, but he looked into the vision pool to find her again. He’d seen her with Grantlund once before in the pool and hoped the vampyre was still near, protecting her. At least, that was Grantlund’s thought at the time. Mahlon tried not to read others’ thoughts too often; especially those vampyres who shared the gift. They could sometimes sense his invasion, but Grantlund had been distracted at the time. The woman, on the other hand, sensed it every time he tried. He didn’t understand it. The last time, she knew he was in her mind. She was much older, then; it startled her, so he ceased. He continued to watch her from the vision pool, but he had the feeling she sensed that as well.

  When she was a small child, he visited her dreams, pretending to be a child as well, someone her mind created. They played all sorts of games together. Truth be known, he actually missed that. He never really experienced a childhood of his own. Her dreams were about as close as he came to achieving that particular aspect of life. He’d shared childhood fantasies, fairy tales, and even those dreaded nightmares with her.

  The latter, he could have done without.

  His mind refocused on Cianán. He knew Cianán wouldn’t try anything yet. Not with Grantlund around. He also knew the bastard would continue his plan until he found a way. Luckily, Kylie and Grant were still in Arizona, and Cianán needed her in Ireland for his ritual. After what he’d witnessed earlier, he didn’t think she’d go there willingly with Cianán.

  White energy trickled from his fingertips, surrounding the pool. A vision formed in its waters, Kylie and Grantlund sitting in a garden. She looked troubled.

  * * * * *

  “I’ve already called the travel agent. I’ll be there the day after you,” Kylie said.

  His eyes widened. “Really? You’ve decided to go?”

  “Yes.” She needed to get away for a while. The problem with Cianán clarified that. “I know it’s strange—”

  “Are you kidding, that’s the best news I’ve had all day.” He pulled her to him, hugged her tightly, and nuzzled his face in her hair. “I promise you, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

  She wasn’t too concerned with his behavior, bad or not. She felt soul-deep sadness in him. It’d begun the moment he touched her shoulder. At first, she thought the feeling came from within her, thanks to the lovely experience earlier, but the moment Grant held her, the feeling grew stronger.

  She pushed away and cupped his face with one hand. “Are you okay?”

  He smiled. “Always, when I’m with you.”

  Kylie pushed him back into the dirt, and crawled over to lie on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her body, like he never wanted to let go. Her hair fell down around his face, framing it and protecting it from the sun. He pulled her closer and kissed her.

  “Why do you make me feel so good?” she whispered.

  “I guess I just have that way about me.”

  “Then don’t ever change.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  The smile stretching across his face spoke of a thousand lifetimes. For once in her life, Kylie stopped worrying about her future.

  * * * * *

  “No,” Mahlon groaned when he heard Grantlund agreed to the meeting in Ireland. He lowered his head. The vision disappeared along with the mist, and the pool remained untouched. He’d hoped this wouldn’t happen. It had been foretold. The words not so much written in stone, but carved in his mind, relayed to him so many eons ago. Words he wished he’d never heard.

  “The prophecy.” He ran his hand through his shoulder length white hair. He wondered when the prophecy would unfold, and now had the answer. Thousands of years of preparation meant nothing because he worried if he truly was prepared for what was about to take place.

  “I hope you’re up to this my friend. It won’t be easy,” he said to Grantlund, though Grantlund couldn’t hear his words. “You play a vital role.”

  Mahlon stood and walked slowly back to the house to search for a few things he might need. He was, after all, going to be taking a trip to a place he hadn’t been to in a very long time. The place where he watched the earth itself swallow his only child.

  He paused a moment in her memory, choking back the tears. His beloved child had been gone more than five centuries. His heart ached as though it’d happened yesterday. He drew in a deep breath and continued on, looking for what he needed.

  The wind howled outside the walls of his home as he prepared. The snow whipped about the mountain peaks, yet the wind and snow never touched his peaceful garden.

  * * * * *

  Grant l
eft for Ireland late Tuesday morning. Ana was on her way over at Kylie’s request to keep an eye on her house and Tobak while she was gone.

  She’d just finished packing when the doorbell rang. Kylie sprinted to it, prepared to greet Ana and tell her all about Grant. First she’d have to give her a hard time about being an hour late. She flung the door open. That girl would be late to her own—

  “Hey, you’re—”

  Cianán stood before her with a warm, apologetic, smile.

  “Oh, sorry. I thought you were my friend.”

  “I’d like to be.”

  She shook her head. “I meant that I’m expecting someone. What are you doing here?”

  “I ‘ad to see ye. I must apologize for my behavior t’other day.”

  “Please, don’t.”

  “No, I was rude to ye an’ I’m deeply sorry. I wasn’t at my best, though there’s truly no s’cuse.” He stepped inside the entry. “I ‘ad a bad business meetin’ that mornin’. I hope I didn’t frighten ye.” He gently took her hand in his and placed his other over hers.

  “Cianán—”

  “Please forgive me. I’d ne’er do anythin’ to harm ye. I know you’ve ‘ad men in your life who have. I’m not them.”

  She smiled awkwardly. At least he’s trying to be nice. She did love the way he talked, and he wasn’t Rob—asshole. She forgave him, albeit reluctantly.

  His eyes flicked to the bags near the door. “When are ye leavin’?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “An’ tonight?”

  “My girlfriend is coming over. It’s kind of a girls’ night.”

  “I understand. I’m goin’ out of town as well, on business,” He smiled, trying hard to make polite conversation.

  She got the feeling the act was a lie, but went along with it anyway.

  “Out of the country, for a few days, maybe longer. May I see ye when I get back?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Please, I know ye believe yourself not ready. At least let me take ye out to dinner to amend my behavior. I’m truly ashamed of the way I conducted myself. It was inappropriate an’ ye deserve better. You deserve to be treated like a goddess, Kylie, an’ I promise ye, I’ll do so from now on.”