by Shéa MacLeod
I wondered vaguely why they didn't just use electricity like everyone else, but I was too overwhelmed by everything to focus on the mundane thought. My head felt hazy and full. It was all I could do not to fall to my knees and either cry my eyes out or beg the gods I didn't believe in to save Inigo.
The mellow light gleamed off row upon row of shiny stones inside the circle of fire. The enormous stones, each as big as a large man, were irregular in shape, but smooth and polished like the walls outside the gold doors. Unlike those walls, these stones shone in a myriad of colors, from deep rose to pale blue.
Drago turned and waved me forward. I glanced at Tanith, who gave me an encouraging nod. Sucking in a deep breath, I stepped past the long row of dragons still in their human forms and faced the Dragon King, brother of my beloved. Drago placed his hands on my shoulders and held my gaze. I read compassion in his eyes, and it made me want to weep.
"Morgan, this is the first time in centuries we have allowed a human to pass through the gates of our most sacred place. What you see here you must not tell anyone."
I nodded, swallowing the giant lump in my throat that was half sorrow and half trepidation. In the dancing light of the surrounding fires, Drago's golden eyes gleamed eerily. In that moment he was anything but human.
He squeezed my shoulders. "You must swear it, Morgan. Aloud."
"On my life?"
He shook his head. "On your Fire."
Inside me, the Fire woke up, straining against the bonds I'd placed on it. My hands trembled, and I clenched them into fists. Clearing my throat, I spoke loud enough for the entire gathering to hear. "I am Fire Bringer. On the Fire within me, I solemnly swear nothing I see within this sacred place shall pass from my lips." It was embarrassingly melodramatic, but I would have done anything for a chance to save Inigo.
Drago let go of my shoulders and beckoned me forward. I followed him past the first line of braziers and into the rows of stones. The others disappeared from view as he led me deeper into the cavern. There were dozens of stones. Maybe even hundreds. I squinted at the closest one, a pale pink with an undertone of gold. Had something moved inside? Surely not. That was impossible. Things didn't move inside rocks.
We finally stopped in front of the most beautiful of all the rocks I'd seen so far. It stood as high as my head and was perhaps four feet wide and equally deep. It shimmered in iridescent tones of peacock blue, green, and gold.
"This is gorgeous," I breathed. "What is it?" I held my hand out, not touching the stone, but close enough to feel the tingling energy radiating off it. I felt heat, as if a fire burned inside it. Startled, I glanced up at Drago.
"That is what your people call a dragon egg. Touch it."
Baffled, I laid my hand gently against the side of the rock. Except it wasn't a rock at all. The surface gave slightly beneath my hand, like one of those stress-relieving gel balls. The heat felt good. It was gentle and welcoming, and the Fire inside me basked in it, rolling around like a dog wanting its belly scratched. Could it be? Surely not.
I cleared my throat. "An egg? I thought dragons gave birth like humans do." Give me a little longer to pretend.
"We do," he said. "We are not born from eggs. We are reborn from them."
I blinked, still not wanting to accept the truth. Knowing I had no choice. "You mean... "
Drago placed his hand beside mine on the brightly colored egg. "Inside this egg is my brother and the man you love."
* * *
I jerked my hand back, staring at the egg in confusion and horror. "Inigo's in there?"
"Yes."
"How do we get him out?" I stepped toward the egg as if I would single-handedly rescue him.
Drago grabbed my arm. "We don't. This is how we heal our wounded. Even those near death have been known to recover."
Hope sprang up inside me. "This will heal him?"
Drago hesitated. "Maybe."
I whirled on him. "What do you mean, maybe? Will it heal him or won't it?"
"Morgan, please. I cannot answer what I do not know. Inigo was badly injured; he’s a hairsbreadth from death. The egg is keeping him alive, but beyond that,"—he shook his head, a heavy line forming between his eyes—"we do not know. He is a halfling, and we have no idea if the egg can repair the damage. Or how long it will take."
I placed my hand against the egg once again, feeling the welcoming warmth. I tried to reach out somehow, to communicate. But it was Inigo who had the mind-speak, not me. I sensed nothing.
"What do you mean?" I spoke barely above a whisper, choked with tears, but Drago heard me.
"His injuries were extensive and, because of his human blood, he is more difficult to heal. If the egg works... it could take a long time."
I caught his gaze and held it, determined to wrangle the truth from him. "How long, Drago?"
This time the sympathy was like a dagger to my heart. The only thing that kept me upright was the egg beneath my hand.
"You'll be dead, Morgan," Drago said. "By the time the egg heals him, if it does, you'll have long been ashes and dust."
The bottom fell out of my world. And then a thread of hope. "Jack said I might be a Sunwalker," I whispered so low only Drago could hear me.
He squeezed my hand. "If that's true, you might have a chance."
Chapter 3
Heavy mist swirled around my feet, curling its way up my ankles to my calves. It was cool and cloying. I couldn't seem to find my way out of it. The more I pushed, the thicker the mist became. I couldn't see the ground beneath it, either, so I stepped cautiously, feeling my way along. No telling what was underneath.
A tendril slid across my face, sticky as a wet spider web. I slapped at it. There'd better not be any spiders hiding in the mist. Spiders freaked me out.
Ahead was a shimmering wall of white light dancing with sparkles of color. It stretched from one side to the other as far as the eye could see. I moved toward it. As I drew closer, I realized it wasn't a wall at all, but a curtain of energy more like a force field. How strange. It was warm and gave of a faint sound almost like a wind chime in a gentle breeze. The sparkles danced faster, like facets on a disco ball. I felt dizzy, disconnected from my body. I reached out to touch the wall, drawn by some force beyond myself.
"I wouldn't do that." The voice brought me back to myself with a crash.
I whirled around, startled. "Inigo? Oh my gods." I started to run toward him, but the mist grabbed at my ankles, holding me back.
Inigo gave me that adorable lopsided smile that flashed a perfect set of dimples. "Hi, Morgan."
"I miss you. Are you okay? How did you get here? Where are we?" Words spilled from me as I tried desperately to pull myself free from the mist and run to him. The harder I fought, the tighter it pulled until it felt as though I was rooted to the spot. "What the hell? Why can't I move?"
"You can't touch me, Morgan. It's not safe."
I looked into his beautiful sapphire eyes and hot tears welled in my own. All I wanted to do was touch him. To know this was real. "What do you mean? Why isn't it safe?"
"You have to move on, sweetheart." His expression was sad, but his tone was firm.
>"Move on? Are you nuts? I'm never giving up on you. Never. You are going to wake up." I didn't much care that Drago thought otherwise.
"Maybe. Someday. But by then, years will have passed. If you're still alive, you will be an old woman, and you will have wasted your life waiting. I will not let that happen." He gave me a fierce look. "You will not waste your life on me, do you understand? You must forget me and move on."
"No... "
"Move on, Morgan. Promise me."
"I won't." Had he faded a bit?
"Move on, or I will never have peace." He was definitely fading. Disappearing before my eyes.
"Wait, Inigo, don't go." I tried to reach out, but realized the mist had moved up, wrapping itself around my waist, my arms, holding me in place. "Inigo!"
"Forget me."
I woke up
thrashing in bed, the blankets and sheets tangled tight around me and my face wet with tears. With a sob, I managed to free myself. The duvet, with its cheerful aqua and coral cover, slid to the floor. I didn't bother picking it up even though the coolness of the room made me shiver. It was no worse that the mist.
Without thinking of the time, I grabbed my cellphone and dialed Cordelia. It rang several times before my friend answered. She sounded half asleep.
"Cordy." It was all I could choke out past the sorrow that welled in my throat.
"Morgan? Is that you?" Sleep disappeared from her voice.
"Yes." A sob caught at my throat.
"Oh, my goodness, I haven't heard from you in weeks. Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"I had another dream." I'd had one nearly every night in the weeks since I'd left dragon land and Inigo's... egg. Each one was worse than the last, and each time, my heart broke a little more.
"Tell me." Cordy's tone was completely alert. No sign now I'd woken her from a dead sleep.
I told her about Inigo and the dream. Every detail I could remember. By the time I was finished, I felt like my heart was shattering all over again.
"Oh, Morgan," she whispered. "I'm so very sorry."
"What do I do?" I sobbed. "I can't let him go. I can't."
She was silent for a moment. "Listen to me carefully, Morgan. I know you put a lot of faith in your dreams, and that's good. They've shown you a lot. Dreams are important. But you must remember one very important rule: you can't always trust your dreams."
I frowned. "Why not?" So far my dreams had never led me wrong. They'd always been dead accurate, which was kind of scary, but also oddly comforting. Until now. This time, I hoped Cordy was right because beneath it all what I felt was fear and guilt. Fear that the dreams came from me, that part of me really wanted to just move on. Guilt, because I still wasn't over Jack.
"Because," Cordelia said softly. "Dreams can be meddled with."
* * *
The kitchen tile was cold against my bare feet. Despite the warm spring days, the nights were still chilly. I thought vaguely about grabbing a pair of socks from the bedroom, but didn't have the energy to move. So I stood there, feet freezing, staring out the window at the moonlit backyard.
After the dream and the chat with Cordy, I couldn't sleep. Par for the course these days. Ever since Inigo...
I shook off the memories. I wished I could shake off the soul biting sorrow as easily. And the hot tears that tightened my throat and threatened to spill over.
Cordelia hadn't been able to tell me much more about the dream manipulation. Part of me hoped she was right, because that would mean Inigo wasn't really telling me to move on. The problem with that was, if she was right, and Cordy usually was about such things, somebody was messing around with my head. I definitely did not like that idea. Still, if my amulet had meddled with my dreams in order to show me truth, why couldn't someone else meddle with them for another reason? Maybe a bad reason.
But who? And why?
Running a hand through my short hair, I turned on the faucet and splashed my face with cold water. I poured myself a glass of the stuff and chugged it down. The lump in my throat remained. I was getting used to it.
I fingered the amulet that hung around my neck. Sometimes I wished the thing had never chosen me.
I went back to bed, but sleep would not come. My brain kept churning until I wanted to scream in frustration. I sat up and braced my head in my hands, willing my mind to still.
No. The voice whispered through my head.
"What the hell?" I shook my head. Crazy. I was finally going batshit crazy for real.
Kill. Dark tendrils leaked out of their hiding place, wrapping themselves around my heart. Kill.
"This is insane. You are now officially certifiable." I guessed playing hermit for weeks on end had finally done what years of hunting hadn't.
Images flashed through my head. Visions of blood and death. My hand itched for a blade so I did what any hunter would do: I got up and threw on some clothes.
It was time to hunt.
Chapter 4
It was that time between night and dawn when everything was perfectly still. Even the birds were silent, as if the entire world was waiting to exhale. The ancients called it the hour of the wolf. I called it the hunting hour.
I parked my car in front of one of the enormous houses perched in the hills of Arlington Heights, near the International Rose Test Garden. This one looked like it belonged in an English forest. It even had the cottage garden to match. Technically, it was illegal to park here this time of night unless you were a resident, but Kabita didn't run a fake PI firm for nothing. I pulled a resident permit out of my glove box and stuck it in my front window.
My trunk held an entire arsenal of vampire hunting equipment: knives, swords, and a machete, not to mention UV guns and flash bangs. There was even a small bucket of salt and an old detergent bottle full of holy water, which, by the way, only worked on demons. I found myself staring at them, mind blank. Inside, the Darkness whispered. All these weapons made it too easy to hunt. Too easy to kill. I needed a challenge.
I nodded as if the Darkness could actually see me. I curled my hand around one of the simplest, most humble weapons I owned: a machete. Perfect for killing vampires. It would be all I hunted with tonight. Sliding the naked blade into the sheath strapped to my leg, I headed into the park.
The Rose Test Garden was the oldest of its kind in the entire United States. The purpose of the garden was to test new varieties of roses in our Pacific Northwest climate. Those that survived were joined by hundreds of other varieties over the years. Acres of roses stretched out across the hillside, interspersed with walkways, statues, and water features set within miles of forested parkland. During the day, the place was crawling with tourists. At night, it was supposedly deserted.
Much like Pittock Mansion nearby, the Rose Test Garden with its sweeping views and heady scents was a hangout for daring lovers and stargazers. It wasn't like the place was fenced or guarded. Anyone could walk in at any time, and the vampires knew it.
I finally found a break in the line of tennis courts bordering the street and followed the narrow pathway between them. A long flight of concrete steps led down to the main parking lot, now barricaded until morning. From there, I took a second flight of concrete steps down into the gardens themselves.
The sweet smell of thousands of roses hit my nose. I inhaled, dragging their perfume into my lungs. For the first time in what seemed like forever, the tight ball of pain inside me relaxed.
I gave myself a mental slap. I didn't need to relax. I needed to hunt, to fight, to kill. Such thoughts should have given me pause, but instead I found my heart pounding with excitement as I hurried deeper into the gardens, eager for a fight.
A slight breeze kicked up, rustling the leaves all around me. I ignored the sound and the natural inclination to believe it meant something. Instead, I honed in on that other sense of mine, the one that told me when a vampire was near.
The amphitheater was the natural place to check first. With its wide grassy steps open to the sky, it was the perfect place to stargaze. Tonight, however, it was empty.
As I moved around the upper rim of the amphitheater, I felt that gripping at the back of my skull that told me a vampire lurked nearby. I paused to listen, trying to tune out the natural rustle of wind and foliage. There, just beyond the tall evergreens marking the back of the amphitheater stage. Voices.
I took the stairs down as quickly as I could without breaking something. Like my neck. Granted, I'd be more likely to survive the fall than a normal human, but it would hurt like hell.
The farther down I went, the tighter the gripping on my skull. Definitely getting closer.
The thick wall of evergreens ended before the edge of the hillside began. A narrow pathway wound between the trees, partially hidden by a low-hanging branch. I darted beneath the branch, into the grassy hideaway behind the stage, and
stopped dead in my tracks.
Two faces stared up at me from a rather... compromising position. Clearly, the young men had thought this secluded section of the garden would make for a perfect trysting place. They hadn't counted on yours truly crashing the party. Nor had they counted on the vampire currently hiding in the bushes on the other side of the clearing. It must have seen me, though, because it took off down the hill with very little finesse and a whole lot of noise.
"Er, hi, boys. Just out for an evening stroll. Don't mind me." I scurried across the grass to the other side as quickly as possible, trying really hard not to stare at their rather spectacular physiques. "As you were." I gave an airy wave as I slipped into the bushes.
The minute I was out of sight, I broke into a full run. Well, as full a run as I could get while running headlong through rose bushes and other flora. The vampire was hella fast.
The waffle soles of my leather boots thudded against the hard ground as I hit the edge of the rose beds and plunged into the forested area below. Branches snagged at my leather jacket and swiped at my exposed skin. After a few hundred feet, I burst out onto one of the blacktop drives circling through the park. I saw a flash of movement farther down the road and took off after it. The vampire was headed toward one of the reservoirs.
A smiled tugged at my lips as I pushed myself a little faster. If the vamp thought it could hide underwater, it had another "think" coming. I happened to know that particular reservoir was empty for repairs.
Sure enough, the vampire paused at the edge of the reservoir and let out an angry howl. His hesitation allowed me to close the gap. Now I could tell it was a male, and a young one at that. No more than a year old. Maybe two. He looked kind of scrawny and malnourished.
With nowhere to go, he turned and snarled at me, curling his fingers into fists. Definitely new. Vampires didn't usually fist-fight.
"Hey, big boy," I taunted as I pulled my machete out of its sheath, the blade gleaming dully in the starlight. "Wanna dance?"
