The Vampire Touch 3: A New Dawn

by Sarah J. Stone

  “Yvette,” Enya said in surprise. “We didn't expect you.”

  “Have I interrupted something?”

  “No,” Enya said, with a smile. “Stay with me a moment. I'll explain.”

  Yvette was desperate for anyone to explain anything to her at that point. She had just gone to stand beside her when all of a sudden, loud trumpets blasted from inside the throne room. Yvette jumped several feet in the air as the door opened. Peter went in first, the redhead on his arm.

  “Is that the queen?” she asked.

  “It is,” Enya replied, as the rest of the brothers filed in. She signaled to Cole that she would follow later. Cole, the most laid back of the four, shrugged and headed inside with a grin on his face. “But she is not his wife. The dragons follow an equal opportunity rule. The highest-ranking female is queen, even if she isn't married to Peter. In this case, she's married to Alexander. She is called Ariel, and she was a ballerina on Earth. She's a carapace, though, so it's a bit tricky.”

  “I know of carapaces,” Yvette replied. She was surprised to feel relieved that he had no romantic relationship with the redhead. And why did she care anyways? She missed Thomas. She loved Thomas. “It's all caused quite a mess, hasn't it? So, she's a princess?”

  “Queen of the carapaces and the dragons, at least until Peter marries. And never has there been such an unwilling and informal queen,” Enya smiled. “The other one you haven't met is Nicholas, the middle brother. He's a sneaky one, but I like him. He's not often around the palace, preferring to perform the away duties.”

  “He would have been regent, then? Until Peter returned?” Yvette asked, and Enya nodded.

  “That's correct.”

  “Right,” Yvette took a deep breath. “This is all a lot to take in.”

  “It is,” Enya said. “But then, when you consider that you've spent your whole life learning the history of Earth, it's perhaps not that much. It just takes time.”

  “I don't know if I can do this.”

  “You can,” Enya ensured her. “You've endured much worse.”

  The two exchanged a look, the trials of a harsh, medical world passing between them.

  “Doesn't that make you a princess?” Yvette asked, at last. “Part of the royal procession?”

  “Oh,” Enya shrugged. “Yes, but I've done it enough times. I'm used to a very simple, very unglamorous lifestyle, so I don't participate if I don't feel like it.”

  “Flexible princess,” Yvette said, with a smile. Enya shrugged.

  “Sure. You have to be if you want to live here. Do you want to go around and watch them?”

  “I'd rather just wait quietly,” Yvette said. “If that's all right? I understand Peter has some duties, of course, but I'd like to get started as soon as possible.”

  “Of course. Go down the hallway to the left, and you'll find a sitting room. He only has to make an appearance today with Ariel, and then I can send him in.”

  “Thank you.” Yvette squeezed her hand. All she wanted was for this whole thing to be over.

  It was only half an hour before the door opened. Yvette had curled up on the couch, staring at the ceiling. It was beautiful and high, painted with epic drawings of dragons and of what she imagined was the story of their rule. There was a mural on the wall of what looked like Earth, and the dragons circling above. She was focused on it when Peter came in.

  “I can do the balcony,” Ariel said to him, as the door opened. “But just for today, I don't like doing it.”

  “Isn't that what you dream of–an ovation of a kingdom?” Peter snapped, with no regard for the fact that Yvette was sitting in the room.

  “Nice,” Ariel said. “And you wonder why they don't cheer. That, and I'm prettier. Ciao.”

  She half slammed the door, and only then did Peter regard Yvette, who had barely caught any of the conversation.

  “Hello,” Yvette ventured. She had wanted to be a teacher when she was a child. Getting sicker meant that she had never followed through on her dreams. Mind you, she wanted to be a teacher for children, not for dragon kings. “Did you have a good…time?” She didn't know what to call it, and she realized quickly that Peter didn't understand much of what she was saying.

  Peter stared at her for a long moment before he took a step towards her. She looked so fragile, curled up on the couch. She didn't move, she didn't stand up and bow like he was used to.

  “Hello,” he finally repeated, and she smiled. It was the simplest thing, a greeting. He was uncomfortable, and she unsure where to start.

  “Is that Earth?” she pointed to the big mural on the wall. She didn't want to give up, not wanting to startle him. Despite being a regal, handsome king, he looked a bit like a deer in headlights.

  “Earth,” he repeated, in English. He drew closer to the mural, touching it with one hand.

  “It looks like Earth,” Yvette said. She had her hand on her phone. She had been playing a game on it while waiting for Peter. She went to Google something and then realized she couldn't. “Argh.”

  Peter turned back to her, cocking his head. She shrugged, indicating her phone.

  “No data,” she said.

  He took it from her, wordlessly, and began to push some buttons. Yvette thought he was exploring and let him be, picking at a thread at her skirt. But when he handed it back to her, she reacted in surprise.

  “Oh, my goodness,” she said with a smile. “You have Wi-Fi.”

  She wasn't sure that was what it was exactly, but he had connected her to an equivalent of it. She knew Umora was an advanced civilization, despite the medieval looking palace. Enya had filled her in on just how much they had and how the medical procedures were far advanced. Internet was probably basic.

  Just then, Enya came into the room, which made Yvette breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Peter, sit,” Enya said in dragon lore. She was struggling with the language and felt inadequate as a trained linguist. Still, she knew she was learning it far faster than anyone ever had, and she thanked her language training for that. Language that had no basis in what she was used to was of course much harder than one that had similar roots.

  “I wanted to ask him about the history of the murals,” Yvette said. “Why Earth is on the wall?”

  “Uh...” Enya paused, and then rapidly translated to Peter. He started speaking to her, but Enya waived him over to Yvette. “Speak to her. I know you have English words. If you're stuck for a word, I'll give it to you.”

  Peter looked frustrated by this, but eventually sat.

  “Earth,” he said, slowly. “Because…we are…connected?”

  “Connected?” Yvette said, sitting up a bit straighter. “How?”

  “We are…” Peter looked to Enya, who screwed up her face in difficulty.

  “Related,” she said. “Oh. Dragons and humans descended from the same ancestors. All shifters did. From Earth.”

  “From Earth?” Yvette said. “So we are the same? Once upon a time?”

  “Once,” Peter replied.

  “Oh,” Yvette said, meeting his eyes. Again, there was that feeling–that odd connection–that she couldn't explain. Peter dropped his gaze first, and Yvette drifted back to her phone.

  Maybe he wasn't an evil, overlord king. Maybe he was just a confused, lost soul like she was.

  Chapter 6

  “So, they colonized America, and were successful for a while until the American Revolution…,” Yvette had decided that today's lesson was going to be about one of the most famous moments in American history. They alternated between language lessons, history lessons, and culture lessons. It seemed Peter knew absolutely nothing about Earth. The dragon princes had started learning about Earth a lot in the last ten years, understanding that they needed to keep an eye on the lesser planet. There were thousands of planets in the galaxy, but Earth, of course, had a special connection to the dragons.

  It had been three weeks since she arrived there. Yvette spent three hours a day sitting on the couch w
ith Peter, with binders and books, and her brains stretched to the limit. Peter would duck in to spend time with her when he wasn't on the throne, in a meeting, or screaming at his brothers. It wasn't the best time to learn anything. He would sit with her, staring glassy-eyed, distracted, or moody. His language was improving slightly, but everything she taught him seemed to confuse or annoy him. He wasn't mean to her, but he was clearly miserable, baffled, and unsatisfied in general.

  “To leave their king,” Peter scoffed. “And now they are a mess.”

  Yvette smirked at that as she closed the book.

  “Yes. And we learned last week that many places on Earth left their monarchy…their king.” she recognized the confused look on his face right away and changed her wording. Whenever a word was lost on Peter, his brow furrowed in a certain way. She thought it was adorable until he followed it up with a snarl.

  “Heathens,” he answered. “Ruling is hard.”

  “I see that,” Yvette replied. “Every day.”

  Peter looked at her for the first time all day. His weary eyes were red-rimmed, and she wondered if he had slept at all. He focused on her a moment, processing the words.

  “We do not get to choose,” he said at last. She wasn't sure that it was the right translation, but he was trying.

  “No,” she said. “But that is the case with everyone.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “No one else is king.”

  “I mean, about other things,” she said. “I mean, I didn't choose to get sick. But I have to work with what I have.”

  “But it is cured?”

  “No,” she said, shifting her legs around. “Not on Earth, and not here, as far as I know.”

  Peter scoffed.

  “There is nothing that we cannot–”

  “Enya,” she met his eyes. “Enya is not cured. She told me her story, that the magic and the science forced into her cannot cure her.”

  “Pfft,” Peter answered, and suddenly reached his arm out. Yvette angled backwards, surprised at the sudden gesture. He stopped, his face softening. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

  “I know” she replied, although she stayed still. Carefully, he reached out, the confident king that he was supposed to be.

  She closed her eyes. Dragons had touched her with magic before. Thomas had a very unique brand of magic, compared to Armand's gently healing touch. But neither of them could rearrange her bodily organs in a way that was safe. The grey matter was too far down her brain stem, and even those who had the surgery weren't always cured.

  Peter's magic was so different. It felt so strong, so pure, as magic flowed into every one of her veins. She felt it touch the tips of her fingers, down her spine, and up into her head. The pressure she had been feeling all day was slightly relieved, and her energy began to return. But more than any of it, it was Peter's hands on her face–his cool, long-fingered hand reaching around the back of her head. His hand was soon gently tangled in her hair as his fingers moved downwards. He could identify the problem, but it wasn't until he touched it that he realized how bad it was.

  Peter gasped suddenly, just as Yvette felt a white light in front of her eyes. There was pain, and she felt dizzy, her stomach turning. Her eyes flew open, her green meeting his yellow ones. There was one moment where everything seemed to stand still. And then she fell forward into his arms.

  He had never felt damage like that; never felt something that expanded through someone's whole body. A dragon would throw themselves off a cliff for less. He hated to admit it, but he had chosen to enter the Other without anything physically wrong with him. And yet this girl walked around with this every day with a smile on her face.

  He realized that he was holding her unconscious body on the couch. She was slumped against him, and her chest rose and fell steadily.

  He didn't dare move except to untangle his hands from her hair. Had he hurt her? Had he done damage that couldn't be reversed?

  He had never seen anything that couldn't be cured. He thought that Cole just wasn't taking care of his wife properly, or that she preferred to be treated on Earth.

  He had never thought that it would be a problem that couldn't be solved.

  “Ah,” she took a deep breath, her eyes fluttering open. He gently pulled back to show her that he was there. She was still nestled in his arms. “Oh my God.”

  “I hurt you,” he said. “I'm sorry.”

  Peter was a ruthless king from a long line of ruthless kings. However, hurting innocents was not part of his plan.

  “I don't know what happened,” she said. “It hurt for a moment, but then it just felt strange.”

  “I saw into your body,” he said. “The damage you have.”

  “Not so confident now, are you?” she teased him lightly. “I told you.”

  “I've never seen anything like that.”

  “It's rare,” she said. “Dr. Donizetti was very helpful.”

  “We can be helpful,” he said, still unmoving. “I'm sorry.”

  “You didn't mean to hurt me,” she said. “You were trying to help.”

  “I never mean…,” he lost the words and shook his head. She sat back up slowly, leaning against the arm of the chair.

  She waved her hand. “It's okay. Don't worry about it. Do you want to continue?”

  “No.” He was clear on that. “You should rest.”

  “My job is here,” she said. “I have to finish.”

  “There is tomorrow,” he said, standing up. “Come, I will take you to your room.”

  “But–” Yvette wanted to protest that she could finish; she could try. The longer that they waited and the longer that it took, was the longer that she couldn't go home.

  It wasn't that she was treated like a prisoner; it was nothing like that. She was free to come and go within the palace grounds as she pleased. She walked in the gardens, she spoke to the girls, and she saw beautiful sights. But the dragons were under strict orders to not take her home, not even for a visit. Peter had to be ready to take the throne full-time before she could go.

  “Come,” he held out his arm. She got up slowly, slipping her arm into his.

  They got stares as they walked down the hallway. People tried not to stare, but she saw heads turned as they walked to her room. Once at her doorway, Peter withdrew his support.

  “Thank you,” he said for the first time. She nodded, unable to speak because of the lump in her throat. At least if she couldn't be home, and the homesickness was killing her, he was starting to be kind to her.

  Once she was inside, Peter snapped his fingers to two passing guards. They were probably headed on break, but he didn't care.

  They bowed right away, almost stumbling over each other.

  “Station yourselves outside this door,” he said. “The young girl, Yvette, is not well. If you get even one indication that she is in danger, send for the medical team right away.”

  “Yes, my king,” they said, pushing past each other to go to the door. Peter gave one last glance at the closed marble door, and then headed down the hallway.

  How could there be so many humans with incurable conditions? How had Earth changed so much? How were dragons not as powerful as he thought?

  “Peter,” Alexander found him staring out the window, his hands behind his back. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” Peter said, shaking himself out of his daze. “Can you speak to me in English?”

  “English?” Alexander asked, surprised.

  “I want to practice,” Peter replied. “Practice is what makes us stronger.”

  “Yes,” Alexander switched tongues. “But I think you can understand this in both languages. There are reports that Father might have returned.”

  A pin could have dropped in the room, and both of them would have jumped. Peter forgot his request for English; he forgot everything but the image of his father.

  “What? Where?”

  “Sporadic,” he said. “But possibly on Earth. There's a repor
t in the south that is much more questionable, but on Earth, they are more considerate.”

  Peter stayed silent for a moment.

  “I didn't expect to feel this way at this moment,” Peter said. “I have not seen Father in so long, and I thought I would be happy to hear that he has returned. But your words strike dread into my heart.”

  “Why?” Alexander asked, trying to get him to speak his feelings. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear Peter vocalize it.

  “The progress we've made–the progress that you have made–would be undone.”

  “Yes,” Alexander said. “We have made a lot of choices that Father disagreed with. Never mind that he would dethrone you if he did come back. Do you want that?”

  Peter sighed, turning back to look out the window. “If you asked me a month ago, I would have said ‘yes, of course.’ I do not want this; you know that. And you know you don't want it either. But now, the idea that he would come back now…I'm not sure about it.”

  “Well, should we verify that these rumors are true?” Alexander asked. “After all, it's not the first time that we've had false reports of the others returning before.”

  “Yes,” Peter said. “Whatever resources you need to dedicate to the search,” Peter replied. “Time, money, it means nothing if we can't verify it.”

  “I can get on it,” Alexander replied. “How was your lesson today?”

  “Oh,” Peter ran a hand over his face for a moment. “It was interesting. She is quite ill, Alexander. I felt it today, and I think I hurt her.”

  “How?”

  “Just investigating. I thought it was impossible that we couldn't cure her. And once upon a time, that was true.”

  “The world has changed since you have been away,” Alexander said. “More and more humans are being born with conditions that can be managed. In addition, the stigma attached to mixed-race relationships is much less. Every day, we hear of human-dragon, human-wolf, and other shifter mixing. Look at Cole. Look at Thomas. These are becoming much more normal. The world is more complicated than it was.”

  “Father would be a fish out of water, only being gone a few years,” Peter replied. “Let me know if you find him.”