by T. S. Ryder
“He’s not happy we’re dating,” Michelle said. “I feel bad about that. You two have been friends for so long. I don’t want to mess that up.”
“You haven't,” Brock said. “All three of us are adults. We can make our own decisions. Cain can’t claim you. He’s mad now, but he’ll come around. We’ve been friends a long time. We’ll get through this.”
“When did the two of you meet?” Michelle asked.
“It’s a strange story actually. I’m sure you heard about how Cain grew up, pretty far from civilization.”
“His father ran a weather station in the middle of the Yukon, right?” Michelle asked.
“Yeah. It was just his mom, him and his dad way out in the middle of nowhere. They almost never saw any other people. They lived in this isolated building far back in the forest. There was only one lone road to get to town. It was impossible most of the time due to the snow.
“It wasn’t until he was fourteen that they left the weather station and he was enrolled in a real school, my school. He was an odd looking kid. His hair was long and he didn’t know anything about movies or TV or video games. He was just strange,” Brock continued.
“I was a hockey player and he joined our team. At first, we were all wondering who this weird kid from the woods was. We were all ready to pounce on him and haze him until he quit.”
“Then he started playing and we saw how good he was. The kid had spent his entire life in winter. He ice skated year round. Hockey was his whole life. The coach tasked me with keeping him company and making sure he didn’t get in any trouble. We got along right away. I taught him everything he needed to know about surviving public school and he drilled me in hockey. We’ve been friends ever since,” he added.
“I don’t want to be the thing that comes between that,” Michelle said.
“You won’t,” Brock said, reaching over and taking her hand. “Cain will get over this. He knows he has no right to be mad.”
They finished their meal and Brock swept up the check right as the waiter dropped it off. Michelle offered to pay half, but he waved her off. Brock wasn’t the kind of guy who went Dutch. He knew how a man was supposed to treat a woman.
“Feel like taking a walk?” he asked her.
“I would love that,” she responded.
They strolled along Lake Michigan, a cool breeze ruffling their hair. The sky was clear and even with the bright city lights, Brock could see a smattering of stars above them. He looked up at the stars as he reached for Michelle’s hand. He took her warm fingers in his and stroked her palm with his thumb. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her smiling.
“So what about you? Where did you grow up?” he asked.
“Tennessee,” she answered. “I hated it. It was hot and swampy and when I told people I wanted to be a lawyer they laughed at me and told me to mind my place,” she shook her head as a tinge of bitterness entered her voice. “I couldn't wait to get out of there. I worked so hard all through high school so that I could get a free ride to a college somewhere north. I wanted to see snow and watch the trees change.”
“What about your parents?” Brock answered.
“They always supported me. They wanted me to have a better life. Both of my parents were blue collar workers, they had never gone to college. My mother never even graduated from high school. But I do my best to take care of them now. They’re both retired and having a great time in Florida.”
“Sounds like you're a hard worker, driven. I like that in a woman,” he said, turning to face her.
“I don’t do it for you,” she said while raising one eyebrow and smiling at him. “I do it for me.”
He nodded and took a step closer. She didn’t step back, but instead looked up through her lashes at him. He brought his hand up and placed it gently on her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch as he leaned down and kissed her.
He could feel the goose bumps on her arms. She leaned into him and her hand came around his waist. He pulled her close, his tongue sliding into her mouth. He wrapped her up in his arms and she melted into him as their kiss continued.
A horn honked loudly and a group of teenagers leaned out of their car and started hooting and hollering.
“Get it, man. She’s hot!” One of them screamed. And Michelle laughed, a sweet sound that was like chimes on a windy day. Everything about her was perfect. If only she hadn’t specifically requested no funny business. He would have brought her home and shown her the time of her life.
His mother had always said that patience is a virtue and he knew that was true now more than ever. Michelle was perfect, there was a chance that this could be the real thing. He didn’t want to ruin this by being impatient. He would wait if that was what she wanted.
She smiled at him and turned to walk again. They were headed down a long pier that led out into the water. There were boats moored on either side as they walked farther out, away from the bright lights of the city.
Michelle opened her mouth to say something, but before she could get a word out, the air was pierced with a loud, unearthly scream. The sound hit his ears like knives and he instinctively grabbed for Michelle and wrapped her up in his arms to protect her.
“What is that?” he asked as the scream came again.
“It’s a dragon,” Michelle said.
Chapter Eight
Brock’s strong arms were wrapped around her, but Michelle knew they wouldn’t be enough. He couldn’t protect her, she needed to protect him. The screams of the dragon matched the ones from her dream. It had been a prophecy.
She could hear the whooshing sounds of the wings beating and she felt his shadow as it passed over them. Its giant wings spread wide as it swooped around the two figures huddled on the pier. It was circling them, the circles getting tighter and tighter.
The dragon screamed again, a loud painful cry that hurt her ears. But what followed was worse. The dragon’s mouth was open and as it screamed a burst of orange fire flew from its mouth. The flames hit the water and steam sprung up and surround them. The dragon continued to loop around them spewing fire into the water.
They were surrounded by steam. Brock’s arms were around her holding her tight. She was trying to free herself, but he was holding her back, trying to protect her. But she needed to be free, she needed to look the dragon in the eyes in order to charm it. She couldn’t be wrapped in another man’s arms when she did so.
“Let me go!” she shouted, struggling to be heard over the scream of the dragon and thumping of its wings.
“No, it’s not safe,” he said.
“I can take it,” she yelled.
They were surrounded by steam, the water beneath the pier was boiling and bubbling from the dragon’s flames. She couldn’t see anything. The steam was too thick. It was a fog that surrounded them.
“What do you mean you can take it?” Brock asked.
She struggled to free herself from his arms. Brock finally released her, but he kept a hand on her wrist.
Where was it? Where was the dragon? If she could see it, then she could charm it. The screaming and beating of the wings had stopped. It was no longer flying over them, it was somewhere else.
“Let’s go,” Brock said as he pulled her back by her wrist down the other side of the pier towards the street. The pier was long. It seemed to stretch in front of them for miles. They would never make it to the other side. There was no way the dragon was done with them. It had come for them.
Brock pulled her behind him, but they didn’t get far. A few feet in front of the pier, the boards rumbled and moved. They bumped up and down. Something was swimming underneath them. They stumbled backwards as the boards rattled and bumped and struggled to contain the monster pushing up against them.
The boards were pushing up, something was about to break free. With a scream the boards cracked and splintered and broke as a large, scaly head attached to a long neck poked through.
They were trapped. The pier was broken, th
ere would be no way to get back to land without swimming. The dragon was staring at them. Its yellow, lizard eyes flicked between them as its tongue snaked out and tasted the air. It could clearly see them and when those cold eyes turned on Brock, it bared its teeth and opened its jaw.
Before she could stop him, Brock grabbed one of the splintered boards and raced towards the dragon holding the board above his head. He let out a scream and swung the board at the dragon. Had it been a man it would have knocked him off his feet. But this was no man, the dragon caught the board between its teeth and snapped closed, breaking the board in its jaws.
Brock fell back and in an instant the dragon was on him. He grabbed Brock’s leg and began to pull him towards the water.
“No!” Michelle screamed holding her hand up.
“Michelle, don’t,” Brock said as he cried out from the pain. He threw his arm out to keep her back, but instead Michelle grabbed his hand.
She knelt next to Brock, holding his hand as she stared into the dragon’s cold yellow eyes. “Stop,” she said clearly. The dragon only bit down harder. Brock screamed out and squeezed down on her hand. “Stop,” she said louder.
The dragon snarled at her. Everything smelled like sulfur and smoke, her eyes were watering. The dragon was in front of her. Michelle reached her hand forward and placed it on his snout.
The scales were cold, but felt surprisingly clean. The dragon shifted his eyes from Brock to her. And to her surprise, it almost felt like it was purring. She stared into his eyes, searching for the connection that she knew had to be there.
It came to her slowly, images of fire and snow and burning trees. There was a frozen lake and a hockey stick. Underneath the fire, anger and sulfur was something else. It was humanity. There was a person underneath all of that.
“Shifter,” Michelle gasped.
“What?” Brock said. His teeth were clenched and tears were streaming down his face, but he wasn’t screaming or crying. He was lying still, holding her hand, waiting to be let free.
“Who are you?” Michelle asked. She asked it out loud and within her mind.
The dragon let go of Brock’s leg and Brock let out a loud groan and pulled himself back and away from the dragon. Michelle stayed where she was, her hand resting on the dragon’s snout.
“Who are you?” she asked again. “You can tell me. You can trust me. Let me help you.”
The dragon blinked slowly and then she saw him. Buried underneath layers of anger, confusion and rage was Cain Samson. He was hiding within himself. The dragon had gained control and Cain was now trapped inside.
“Cain?” She whispered.
The dragon didn’t like that. It reared its head back and pulled away from her. It let out a loud painful scream and its wings began to flap. Water sprayed all around them as the beast slowly rose in the air. Her mouth hanging open, Michelle stared in awe as she knelt in the dragon’s shadow.
It took one last look at her and then with one final scream it rose up into the air and flew out over the water of Lake Michigan. She and Brock stared at it and watched it disappear over the horizon. Slowly the steam around them evaporated and they could see the skyline and the world around them.
Brock let out a groan of pain and grabbed his leg. Michelle ripped off her sweater and wrapped it around his leg, securing it tightly to stem the flow of blood. But it wasn’t enough. There was poison in a dragon’s bite. Brock’s normal human aura wasn’t normal anymore. There was something infecting it.
There was a bile green infecting the clean light. It started at his leg, but it was spreading. There was a foul smell coming from the wound. It smelled like rotten eggs and swamp and already a yellow puss was mingling with the blood.
“What’s going on? Do you know what’s going on?” Brock asked. But his voice was slurring. His eyes were losing focus. He was propped up on his shaking arms until they gave way and he fell back on the pier.
“Did you call the dragon Cain?” he murmured.
“Just lie still. Try and stay calm. Keep your heart rate down,” she said. She rested her hand on his head and felt a fever there. She jumped to her feet. She needed to get out of there. She grabbed three loose boards and laid them over the gap until it was wide enough for them to walk over.
“Okay,” she said going over to Brock. “I know it hurts to walk, but you have to try.” She threw his arm over her shoulder and helped him to his feet. He leaned heavily against her, his head lolling on her shoulder.
“I don’t feel well,” he murmured.
“I know,” Michelle said. Slowly and carefully they made their way over the shaky planks and to the other side of the pier where people were running towards them.
“What happened?”
“Are you ok?”
“What was that thing?”
They were peppered with questions, but Michelle ignored them all and pushed back towards the street. Police cars were arriving, sirens were drawing closer and flashing red and blue lights lit up the air around them. Michelle refused to stop. She kept pushing past people, supporting Brock with her arm.
Chapter Nine
Thankfully, they weren’t far from Michelle’s car. She managed to drag Brock there and she put him in the back seat, letting him stretch out his leg.
“It burns,” he said reaching down to the wound.
“Don’t, just leave it alone,” Michelle said, gently pushing his hand back. “It’ll be ok.”
She opened her trunk and pulled out her first aid kit. She unwrapped her sweater from around Brock’s leg and the car was filled with the noxious, foul smell of his wound. She resisted the urge to gag as she found a pair of scissors and cut his jeans up to the knee. She tore the blood-soaked material off him and threw it to the side.
The wound had stopped bleeding, but she could see the indentations from each of the dragon’s teeth. A yellow-green bile was pooling in the teeth marks and dangerous looking black streaks of poison were traveling up and down his leg.
She swabbed the wound with alcohol and Brock lifted his head up and let out an anguished scream.
“I know, I know,” Michelle said. “I know it hurts, but you have to try and be quiet.” He clenched his teeth and took gasping, painful breaths. Michelle grabbed a roll of gauze and wrapped it around his leg. It cut the smell and when she was done, Brock’s head fell back on the seat and he let out a haggard cry.
He looked awful. His face was pale and sweaty and he could barely keep his eyes open. She didn’t have much time. He had only been bitten a few minutes ago and already the poison was taking hold. A hospital would never help him. This wasn’t normal poison, it was magic.
The problem was, she had no idea how to deal with a dragon bite. She had never even heard of a Dragon Shifter. She knew there were people who could transform into wolves and bears, but she had never heard of a man turning into a dragon.
Cain, it was Cain. The dragon was Cain. He would be the only person who could save Brock.
Michelle grabbed a paper map out of her glove box and spread it out on the hood of her car. There was a crystal dangling from her rear-view mirror and she grabbed that as well. She held the crystal over the map and focused on Cain. She ignored the sirens and people and thought only of Cain. She remembered his long blond hair, his cocky smile. She could see him clearly in her mind.
The crystal spun above the map. It moved in slow circles as the image of Cain became clearer in her mind. Suddenly, the string holding the crystal jerked twice and she opened her eyes to see that it had stopped on the edge of Lake Michigan. She took a pen and circled the spot. Taking the map, she hopped in the driver’s seat and headed around the lake.
Brock moaned quietly behind her and Michelle forced herself to focus on the road. The only thing she could do for him was bring him to Cain. Cain would have to know how to cure the dragon’s bite. After a while there was no noise from the back and then she couldn’t help but constantly check on him. She kept glancing at Brock in the rearview mirror, mak
ing sure he was breathing.
It took twenty minutes to find the house on the lake. It was a rustic cabin tucked away in the woods at the end of a long, dirt drive. Cain’s truck was sitting in the driveway. She had the right place. It was dark out here, they were far from the city and the only sounds were the chirping of crickets.
The house was dark. Michelle left her headlights on, letting them illuminate the driveway. She stumbled towards the door in her high heels.
“Cain?” She called out. “Cain, are you here?”
There was no answer. She took the steps to the porch and looked around. It was a small, one-story hunting cabin, simple and rustic. Not like Cain’s normal style at all. She knocked on the door and to her surprise, it creaked open.
Inside, the house was dusty and dark. There was a faded green couch over a bearskin rug, a cold fireplace along one wall and a small kitchen. She could see a bedroom through an open door, but it didn’t look like anyone was here.
“Michelle?”
She screamed and jumped straight up in the air. She spun around and saw a haggard looking Cain.
“Did I kill him?” he asked, his voice thick and slurring. “Did I kill my best friend?”
“No,” Michelle said, shaking her head. She put her hands on his arms and felt that he was shaking. “He’s alive. He’s in the car, but there’s some sort of poison-”
Cain spun around, breaking free of her grip and stumbling towards the car. He opened the back door to reveal Brock, unconscious and splayed out in the back seat. He was covered in sweat and shaking.
Cain pulled his best friend out of the car and hefted him over his shoulder. As gently as possible, Cain carried Brock inside, depositing him on the bed in the bedroom.
“How did you find me?” he asked.
“I’m a witch,” she said looking into his blue eyes. “I always knew there was something magical about you, but I didn’t know what it was. Why did you attack us?”
He hung his head and said. “I lost control. I had been fighting it ever since I heard that you agreed to go out with Brock. I was so angry. I tried to contain the dragon. I came out here to find some peace and quiet and try to control myself. But I couldn’t...” He shook his head. “I lost control. It’s been years since this happened and now I’ve killed my best friend.”
