Adored by The Dragon: (The Dragon Lord - Book 3) (The Dragon Lords)

by K. T. Stryker

  Peter pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a shirt, and stumbled out into the hallway. He felt lightheaded and had to brace himself against the wall for a moment until his vision cleared. It seemed that every smell in the hallway was twice as strong as before. He could smell the sour, almost fecal scent of the old cardboard boxes and the odor of the mold growing behind the flowered wallpaper. There was also an iron tang of blood in the air, which Peter could sense was coming from the kitchen. It drew him forward. As he licked his dry lips he could feel the sharp tips of his canines pressing against his tongue. They were growing longer, as if preparing for a hunt. His body was responding to the need for blood.

  The refrigerator, which had been full of blood bags just days ago, was now teetering dangerously close to empty. Peter’s stomach growled as he looked at the barren shelves. The smell of blood was coming from a bag that had torn open and was leaking a steady drip of red onto the shelf below. The smell drove Peter wild and he nearly stooped down to lick the blood from the inside of the refrigerator. Only the shame at his own hunger stopped him.

  Peter had come home from his meeting with Ashe the previous night to find that his family had drained most of the blood bags. Still on edge from nearly kissing Ashe, Peter had had to make do with a sack of weeks-old blood that had likely been brought with them during the move to the city. It had only shaved the edge off his hunger and Peter was still feeling a strong urge to feed.

  Peter grabbed a bag from the back of the refrigerator and tore the cap off the tube with his teeth. He was too hungry to bother with finding a glass. The blood, like last night’s, was nearly too old to drink safely, and Peter felt a rumble in his stomach as it settled. As much as Peter hated it, he had to go see David today about getting more blood.

  A thud from the living room disturbed the quiet house. Peter threw the empty bag into the sink and went to see who or what was the cause of the noise. He arrived just in time to see a groggy Landon sitting up from the sofa. His clothes were rumpled and it looked like he had spent the night there.

  “Morning, Peter,” he said with a fake warmth as he stretched and yawned like he was in his own home.

  “What are you doing here?” Peter replied with ice in his tone. No wonder his family was running low on blood. It seemed they were running a charity for the city’s other clans.

  “Vanessa invited me over.” Landon slicked his hair back with both hands. “But don’t worry. She only brought me here because she knew I’d bring some blood with me. I never let a party run dry. And besides, after seeing the sad state of your refrigerator I thought I’d lend a helping hand. It pains me to see your beautiful sisters going hungry like that.”

  Peter felt the bile rise in his throat.

  Landon continued. “Thanks for the tip, by the way. The new supplier — what’s his name, David? — is really worth his weight in gold.”

  “What did you say?” Peter asked sharply. It was dangerous for suppliers to work for more than one clan. The more David had to steal from the local hospitals, the more chance there was of being caught. Landon should have known this. He had no business taking blood from Peter’s supplier.

  Landon shrugged and lay back down, locking his fingers together behind his head and closing his eyes. It was clear he shared none of Peter’s concern.

  “You’re a leech. You know that right? We only came out here to survive, but if you’re looking for a fight that’s what you’re going to get. David doesn’t work for you. He works for us.” Even as Peter said this, he wished it wasn’t true. If it was up to him, he would never see David again but his family needed the blood.

  Landon opened one eye. “Hey, I’m just trying to get along with everyone. I said I helped your sisters out, didn’t I?”

  Peter clenched his fist at his side. He hated Landon’s smug look and wanted to wipe it off his face for him.

  “I think you’re the one who’s being selfish. I doubt you’re planning to share any of your girlfriend’s blood with the family.” Landon chuckled as if the thought of Peter going after Ashe in that way amused him. Peter only felt disgust and a sharp pang of fear. Maybe Landon understood more about Peter’s motivations for getting closer to Ashe than Peter himself did.

  “Shut up,” Peter growled, trying to banish the voice of doubt in his head. “I would never harm a human.”

  Landon looked like he didn’t believe him. “Okay, whatever you say. I forgot you’re a saint, unlike the rest of us demons.”

  “Get out of my house,” Peter said. He needed to be away from Landon before things got violent. When Landon made no move to leave, Peter picked up his own coat and left the house, slamming the door on his way out. He would have words with Vanessa later. For now, he had to get blood.

  Luckily the sun had disappeared behind a thick wall of clouds and Peter felt no need to put on his jacket once outside. He carried it loosely in one arm as he made his way down the street. With his free hand, he pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and made a quick call to David to set up a meeting. He needed an update on the promised delivery this week. It was only a matter of time before his sisters lost control and started taking live victims. Peter, however, knew he would fight the urge even if it killed him. He was done taking innocent lives.

  David picked up after a couple of rings. Peter pictured the man on the other end of the line; the father who had been smiling with his daughter in the picture Ashe kept with her always.

  It was hard for Peter to keep an even tone as he talked. “I need to see you about the supply,” he said. “A few things happened and the clan’s run low a little earlier than expected. I’m on my way to your place.”

  “I’m not there. I’m out,” David replied. He sounded out of breath, though Peter knew it couldn’t have been from exertion. The man must have been nervous about something.

  “Fine, I’ll go to where you are. Just tell me the place. We need the delivery today.” Peter hung back at the corner, not sure if he should cross the street or turn back the way he had come. A bicyclist stopped at the intersection and turned left.

  “I don’t have the blood now, but I’m on my way to get it.”

  Peter cursed under his breath. If David didn’t have the blood, then why had Peter’s family even followed him out here in the first place? David only had one use to the clan; Peter was in no mood to start giving second chances.

  “I don’t care,” Peter said. “Tell me where you are.”

  David sighed. “I’m in the park across from the hospital. It’s the one on the corner facing the student center of the college.”

  “I know where it is,” Peter snapped. “Just wait for me there.”

  He hung up the phone and shoved it back into his pocket.

  Ashe sat by a window on the second floor of the student center looking out onto the churchyard below. Books lay strewn about on the table in front of her, but she paid them no mind as she gazed down at the tombstones and overgrown grass. All morning she had been hoping for Peter to show up, not so much that she could talk to him but rather so that she could observe him from afar and maybe make some sense of the feelings buzzing around in her chest like a hive of bees.

  She had nearly kissed him last night. In the quiet of the graveyard under the moonlight, she was sure he would kiss her back. The urge had come over her so suddenly that she had not been able to hold back. She had never been so drawn to another person before. It was almost as if he had cast a spell on her, which made his rejection all the harder to bear because Ashe felt that it was entirely Peter’s fault that she felt the way she did.

  But he was her tutor. He had a responsibility to see to it that her grades improved by the end of the semester. Romance was a distraction Ashe knew she couldn't afford, even though every bone in her body yearned for it. Ashe didn’t want to think that there were other reasons beside Peter’s academic obligations that he had stopped her from kissing him.

  Ashe rested her arms on the table and in doing so knocked a book to the floor. It o
pened to the page of Vlad the Impaler that Peter had shown her that first day he had been assigned as her tutor. Ashe remembered her lack of motivation back then, of the way she had been so dismissive of Peter’s idea that myth and truth weren’t nearly as separate as Ashe had thought. But now Ashe was finally starting to get the hang of what both he and Professor Sharpe wanted her to get out of her mythology class. She was starting to see the value of having faith in the unknown.

  Beyond the churchyard there was a fairly busy intersection and past that, just visible over the tops of the trees, was the hospital. It was a large square building of tan stone with little distinction besides the red “H” painted on its side. Ashe remembered having gone there a couple of times to participate in Red Cross donations. She had been surprised at the bright hue of the blood going from her arm through the tube into the pint bag and had needed to look away. It had seemed as if her very life was being sucked out of her, but she had endured it knowing that it would help others.

  Suddenly the image of Vlad’s impaled victims flashed through Ashe’s mind and she felt sick. She needed some air. She promptly stood from the table, leaving her books as they were, knowing she would come back for them later.

  Once outside, she took a deep breath of the chilly air and set a course for the cemetery. Her plan was to cut through to the street and maybe cross the intersection, take a lap around the park, and come back. The pressure to study was keeping her tethered to the student center, though in the back of her mind she couldn’t help thinking that all of it was for nothing. Though the registrar’s office had given her one last extension on her tuition payment and she had managed to squeeze a few more work shifts into her already overwhelming schedule, she still couldn’t see how she would ever get the money to stay in school. At least if she was kicked out, Ashe thought with bitterness, Peter wouldn’t have any excuse for not giving her that kiss.

  One step into the cemetery and Ashe’s memories of the night before came flooding back. Her cheeks burned red under the striped scarf she wore. She picked up her pace until she was out of the plot and safely onto the sidewalk in front of the church. She still couldn’t believe that she had opened up to Peter like that. Her fight had been with her mom, so why had she started talking about her father? There was something about Peter that seemed to draw Ashe’s insecurities into the open and while she had resented him for it at first, she now found herself craving it. She loved feeling like he really saw her for who she was, flaws and all. She loved being able to gaze into those storm cloud eyes of his and not be afraid anymore.

  Ashe shifted her weight from foot to foot as she waited for the light to turn at the intersection. Traffic was heavy today and cars drove past in a steady stream. The light seemed to have no intention of changing. Ashe’s gaze wandered across the street where she could see people strolling through the park despite the cold bite of the air. Two men came into view from behind a stand of trees and Ashe recognized Peter as one of them. The other was facing away from her. He seemed older, maybe one of Peter’s professors. She had the sudden urge to run towards the park and catch up to Peter, but the light was still red and she didn’t want to be flattened by traffic.

  The man Peter was with turned and for a brief moment Ashe could see his face. She gasped aloud in recognition. It was her father, looking exactly as she remembered him from all those years ago. She felt her stomach drop.

  A bus pulled into the intersection, stopping to let out passengers right in front of Ashe. By the time it had left again, Peter and the man were nowhere to be seen. The crosswalk light turned green and Ashe hurried towards the park desperate for another glimpse of the man. It was her father, she was sure. But at the same time, it couldn’t have been. Surely, he would have aged in the time he had been away. His hair would have grayed more; his face would have shown the years in its wrinkles.

  Ashe let her steps slow until she was standing like a lost child in the middle of the park. She felt foolish. Of course the man hadn’t been her father. She had been thinking too much of Peter and their conversation yesterday, and her mind had seen what it wanted to. Still, that voice of doubt, of distrust, that had dogged Ashe ever since her father left her now whispered in her ear: Peter and her father were colluding to hurt her again.

  She turned to go back to the student center and saw Peter coming towards her. He was alone. Ashe put a hand to her head, feeling for all the world like she was losing her mind.

  David looked haggard, with hollow cheeks and visible points to his canine teeth. He wore a brimmed hat to keep off the weak sunlight and a scarf was wrapped tight around his neck. He wore a long grey coat, and on his hands was a pair leather gloves. Not an inch of skin was visible besides his face. He looked like a detective from a 50’s pulp novel. He struggled to keep up with Peter as they walked through the park together. Peter hoped he was not neglecting to feed himself.

  “I told you, it’s all yours. Every last drop.”

  Landon’s clan was draining David dry, taking all of the blood he procured as soon as he got it leaving none for Peter and his family. Peter needed assurances that this time would be different.

  “I’ll be waiting around back for you to come out. You try to stiff me, and you won’t like the consequences. Remember, I’ve been in this game a century longer than you. Don’t think you can pull one over on me.”

  “I’m not trying to deceive you,” David said holding up his hands as if to ward off Peter’s threat. “I thought your blood would last. This city is plenty big enough for me to supply both your clans, as long as you give me the time to do it. You can’t keep going through bags like it’s the Middle Ages. You need to get your sisters under control.”

  Peter kept his voice low so the passerby wouldn’t hear him, but he wanted more than anything to yell at David for trying to dodge the blame. Instead, he let the anger drip through his words like a slow-burning fire lit under David’s feet. “Your duty is to my clan, not theirs. They were able to find blood just fine on their own before you got here, and they can go back to doing it that way. Your only concern is us.”

  David protested, “I told you I can manage. You just have to give me some time. It’s not so simple—”

  “I know about your past,” Peter cut him off. “The family you left behind. Your word is worthless, as far as I’m concerned.” He had not meant to bring Ashe into this, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what she had said to him in the café last night.

  “What are you talking about?” David said, a bead of sweat forming on his brow despite the cold.

  Peter stopped in front of a stand of trees. “I know that you abandoned your young daughter and that she has never forgiven you. You should see the woman she has grown to become. She’s independent, brilliant, and beautiful but she still struggles with the pain you caused her and it’s holding her back. You may have forgotten your life before all this, but the people you left behind have not. They still live in the mess you made all those years ago.”

  David wiped his damp brow with a shaking hand, but there was already too much sweat for him to hide. “You—you’ve seen my daughter? Is she still here?”

  “What do you care?” Peter spat.

  “You have to understand, it wasn’t my choice to leave her,” David said, nearly shouting. Peter had to gesture for him to be quieter. “Just let me explain, please,” David said in a softer tone.

  “Fine,” Peter replied reluctantly. The man seemed desperate and Peter needed him calm before he went into the hospital to steal the blood.

  David began, “Like I said, I didn’t leave my family because I wanted to. I left them to protect them, not to hurt them.

  “I was in a car accident, on my way home from work. I don’t remember much, but I do remember lying on the pavement bleeding out with a piece of the car’s wreckage poking through my side and the thought that I’d never see my wife or daughter again. I was probably in a lot of pain, but all I could think about was my family. I didn’t even notice the woman callin
g my name at first. I’d never seen her before but she seemed to know me. Or maybe she’d read my name from my driver’s license. Anyway, she leaned over me as I lay there dying and told me she could save me. She said that I would not only be healed, but I would also never grow old. However, I would have to become a vampire like her in order to be saved.

  I thought I was delirious from the blood loss and having a hallucination, but her cold hand on my cheek seemed real and the more she explained the more it all seemed to make sense. She said I needed to make my decision fast, because once I was gone there was no bringing me back. I was terrified of becoming like her, but she said it was the only way I’d be able to stay with my family. I believed her, and as soon as the first drops of her blood touched my lips not only was the pain gone, but the world came back into sharp focus and I was able to sit up on my own. I looked down at the bloody hole in my shirt only to find smooth skin beneath. It was as if I’d never been an accident. It was a miracle. I went home to my family never telling them what had happened.”

  Peter listened to David’s story with a knot of dread in his stomach. He had seen enough freshly-turned vampires over the years to know just how strong the desire to feed was during those first months. Control came with practice, and a new vampire was at the highest risk of going feral and attacking those around him.

  “But no one had told me of the hunger, or of the changes that came with my new condition. I tried eating normal food but was violently ill. The only thing I could keep down were raw, bloody steaks but even those settled poorly in my stomach. I kept dreaming of waking up in the night to drain my wife dry and in the day, all I could think about was the sweet smell of blood.