Touched by A Dragon:

by K. T. Stryker

  The car’s tires crunched against the cracked asphalt as Ashe pulled into the library parking lot. Most of the spaces were already filled, which was an odd sight for the usually lifeless building. It was then that Ashe remembered the town meeting that Will had invited her to. She didn’t know if she could face everyone now that she was aware of the town’s bloody past.

  She was about to get back into her car when the old man from the gas station came out from the front doors of the library. He waved.

  “First town meeting, I see,” he said.

  She faked a smile and approached him. “Yeah, Will Morris invited me.”

  “Well if you've got his approval, no complaint from me.”

  The old man led her into the library through a side door that opened directly into a small classroom used for school trips and community events. The desks had been pushed to the walls and the chairs sat in a circle in the center of the room. Ashe recognized Peter’s coworkers from the theater among the group, as well as some people she seen around town but did not know by name. All together it was a fairly small group, even for a town the size of Morris. Will was there too, as he said he would be. His face looked drawn and his shoulders stooped.

  A few curious glances flickered her way as she approached the ring of chairs.

  “Ashe is joining us today,” the old man announced. “Will invited her.” The curious glances stopped.

  Ashe took the only remaining empty seat, which happened to be next to Will.

  “I didn’t think you were going to come,” he said as she sat down.

  “I almost didn’t,” Ashe replied. She could feel eyes on her and said no more. She hoped they could talk privately after the meeting.

  Will stood from his chair and cleared his throat. “Now that everyone’s here, we can begin.” The group went quiet. “As you all know, tonight’s the anniversary of the night the old theater closed its doors for good twenty-two years ago. So many of our loved ones, my father included, lost their lives protecting our town that night. Though Jerry and Greg are working hard to rebuild the place and bring back some of those good memories that the theater kept for us, there is still a lot of healing that needs to be done.” He paused to give a solemn look. “Which is why I’ve set aside some time for us to talk about that night, and to give closure to those of us who need it.”

  Ashe felt vaguely nervous knowing that she was about to hear more about the incident that had made Morris a place she was no longer welcome. It was one thing to read dusty old diary accounts in some back room of the town archives, but quite another to hear the words come to life through the very person who had experienced the event first-hand.

  As Will sat down, he whispered to her, “Listen with an open mind. You might not believe what you hear tonight, but I assure you it’s all true.”

  Ashe knew what Will was referring to, and needed no preface to the horrors she was about to hear. She debated briefly whether to use her illness as an excuse to leave, but the first story had already started.

  “We were stupid kids, eighteen and just married. The stupidest you can get,” Jerry said, his hands still fidgeting in his lap. “But not stupid enough to believe the rumors going around, the ones about satanic rituals and new street drugs turning people into zombies. Of course, we had noticed some of our old friends acting distant but we just assumed it was because we’d gotten married and tended to do things as a couple rather than hang out with everyone as a group.

  “Anyway, people started to go missing and eventually some people got wise to what was really going on. At first I didn’t believe it, but when my wife’s sister got turned we knew we had to do something. The town was readying for its attack and they needed volunteers. We were still just kids, but my wife was always a firecracker and she signed us up without any thought.”

  Ashe thought she knew where his story was going, and could already feel the tug of pain in her heart. The fact that Jerry had come to the meeting alone was indication enough that his wife was no longer alive.

  Jerry continued. “We were supposed to be outside, helping chain the doors shut and making sure none of the bloodsuckers got out. I only looked away for a second but it was enough. One of them had escaped out a window and was on Martha before any of us could do anything. I’ll never forget how black her blood looked or the sound of her sobs as I ran to save her.”

  Jerry’s voice cracked, his eyes filling with tears. His shoulders slumped in his chair and he looked utterly empty, like the effort of telling his story had used up the last reserves of his being and he was now just a dry husk of a man. The woman sitting next to him patted his back in a gesture of consolation while waving her other hand to let someone else speak.

  One by one, the people in the circle recounted their own stories of that terrible night. Some spoke at length while others gave little more than a few words of memorial to a lost friend or loved one. Ashe felt her heart breaking with every word, knowing that for every vampire like Peter there were a hundred more that were no better than monsters. She was truly lucky to have met him and to have his protection from the worst of his kind.

  The last person to speak was Will. He turned to Ashe so that he was addressing her directly rather than the group as a whole.

  “My dad died that night,” he said, his blue eyes searching her face for sympathy, perhaps, or disbelief.

  “I’m sorry,” Ashe muttered.

  Will nodded in gratitude. He said, “I know it’s a lot to ask you, to believe what you’ve heard tonight. But Morris is different from other towns. We know of the dangers that lurk in the darkness, and more importantly we know how to fight them.”

  His words sent daggers through Ashe. The night at the theater had not been the end of the town’s vampire hunting. They were still active.

  “It’s okay, I believe you,” Ashe forced herself to reply calmly even though she wanted so badly to leave the meeting. She hoped it was over.

  “Thank you,” Will said to her, and then to the whole group, “I believe we have something of immediate concern to discuss tonight.”

  There was a murmur through the crowd, but a sharp look from Will silenced them. “Is there something you want to say?” he asked Jerry, singling him out.

  Jerry’s hands shifted nervously in his lap as he found himself put on the spot. “Are you sure it’s okay for her to be here?”

  Will glanced at Ashe. “She’s part of the town. She heard our stories. She has a right to know.”

  “But—” Jerry began.

  Will clasped a hand on Ashe’s shoulder. “We’re meant to protect the members of this town, aren’t we? Though Ashe has only been here a short time, she deserves the same protection as any of us. Isn’t it better for her to know of the danger than to be left in the dark?”

  Jerry muttered something incoherent, but made no further rebuttal. Ashe had almost hoped he would, so that she would have a good excuse to leave the meeting. A cold sweat had broken across her brow and goose bumps prickled her skin. She was sure she had the flu, and being here was doing her no good.

  Ashe spoke up, “I can leave. It’s no problem.”

  Will shook his head. “It’s important that you stay.”

  “Let her leave,” Jerry grumbled.

  Ashe rose from her chair. It was becoming clear that she was still an outsider, and while Will did not seem to see it as a problem the other members of the meeting did. She started, “I appreciate you inviting me here, but I’m not feeling well and—”

  Will grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him. “Peter’s a vampire.”

  Ashe was stunned and stared blankly at Will. He let go of her arm.

  “We only became sure of it today, but we’ve suspected for a while. I know this must be a shock to you.”

  It wasn’t the fact that Peter was a vampire that had caught Ashe by surprise, but rather that the people of Morris had found his secret out so quickly. Had something given him away, or was Will simply singling him out because Ashe had re
jected Will earlier? Ashe didn't want to believe that Will could be so cruel.

  “You’re not going to hurt him, are you?” Ashe asked.

  Will said, “Our biggest concern is keeping you, and everyone else, safe from him. It’s only a matter of time before he reveals his true nature to you, and I worry that he intends to turn you into one of his kind. We need to stop the vampire plague now before it spreads like it did twenty years ago.”

  Ashe could see the regret in Will’s eyes even before he replied, but his words still pierced through her heart like a lance. She looked around the room at the once-friendly faces now staring back at her with pity. They thought they were helping her, teaching her of the real dangers present in the world, but they were wrong.

  “Peter’s different,” Ashe said. “He would never hurt any of you.” Her fever was making her vision blur, and her legs felt like jelly underneath her. She hoped she would still be able to drive herself home. She needed to warn Peter and leave town as soon as possible.

  “How can you be so sure?” Will asked.

  Peter was no monster. He was a good man. But the look in Will’s face told her that there would be no convincing him of this no matter hard she tried.

  “I can’t,” Ashe lied, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “But I need a little time first. Time to say,” her voice cracked, “goodbye.”

  Will nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry it had to come to this. We’ll give you the weekend, but that’s all we can afford.”

  Jerry spoke up, “But what if he decides to turn her before then?”

  Will cast him a dark look. “We’re giving her the weekend, that’s final. You of all people should understand how difficult it is to say goodbye to the one you love. Ashe has been warned of the danger and we can trust she’ll be careful.”

  Jerry looked at Will, then at Ashe, his expression troubled. He turned to the others in the group for backup, but their lack of support seemed to take all the fight out of him. The woman next to him who had comforted him earlier was now shaking her head as if to discourage him from even trying. Ashe could see the mix of pity, sadness, and fear the people of Morris felt for her. The fear was the strongest, and it was what troubled Ashe the most. She had learned enough about history to know that fear ruled reason.

  “I think that’s all we’re going to discuss for tonight,” Will said. People got up from their chairs and milled about the room, seemingly hesitant to leave. A few headed in Jerry’s general direction and hovered there silently. Ashe suspected that they wanted to discuss matters themselves once Ashe was out of earshot. She knew it would be easier for them to make their decision on what to do without the human consequence of their actions staring them in the face.

  Ashe headed for the door and Will followed. He called for her but she didn’t stop for him. She had wanted to say goodbye but she couldn’t now. Will mustn’t know that she and Peter planned to leave.

  Will caught up with her at her car and put his hand on the door to stop her from getting in. It wasn’t a threatening gesture, but one of supplication. He wanted her to hear what he had to say.

  “I wish all of this could have turned out differently,” Will said. “I really do.”

  Ashe kept digging for her keys.

  Will continued, “I’m not upset about what happened today, and I’m not going after Peter because of jealousy. The only reason I think we need to do something about him is because I don’t want to see you hurt. I care about you.”

  How did Will expect things to turn out after all of this? Even if it went how Will planned, with the town taking down Peter and saving Ashe from the threat of vampirism, it wasn’t like Ashe was going leap right into his arms once Peter was out of the picture. Ashe felt some of her old self coming back to her, the girl who preferred to shut the world out rather than deal with all of the stupidity of other people. Will was just another person trying to get what they wanted with no regard to the feelings of others. He had tried to bait her with the heartbreaking stories about the night in the theater, but it wouldn’t work. Ashe too had lost her father when she was young, but it hadn’t turned her into a murderer. Will had no excuse.

  “I liked you. I really did,” Ashe replied, leaning a little against the car for support. Sweat rolled in sheets down her back and she was starting to shiver. “You were a good friend when I didn’t know anyone here, and you welcomed me as part of this town. But you know I can’t stay, not after...”

  Ashe choked on her words. Though she trusted that she and Peter would be long gone from Morris before the angry mob came for them, just imagining the alternative was almost too much.

  Will hung his head. “You don't have to say anything. I understand.” Then, after a pause, “I guess this is goodbye, then.”

  “Goodbye,” Ashe replied, getting into her car.

  She had gotten her goodbye after all, she thought as she pulled blurrily out of the parking lot. She knew why those few words with Will had been so important to her. They had both suffered a loss early in life, and knew what it was like to feel abandoned without even a simple farewell. Though they had only known each other for a short time, Ashe felt a kinship with Will in the pain that lay in their pasts. She only wished she could have gotten to know each other better, and that Will’s attraction to her hadn’t gotten in the way. He could have been a good friend.

  Peter’s hands shook as he dialed Winnie’s number. The jealousy he had previously felt was now a distant memory to the fear threatening to consume him. He had managed to open and close the door with his mind several more times, as well as rearrange items around the house. Though Winnie had reassured him that the acceleration of his abilities was nothing to be worried about, Peter knew that the manifestation of this new power was well beyond the scope of normal. Even for vampires.

  A shattered glass lay in the sink, having slipped from his grip when he had been testing out the scope of his new power. Unlike the mind reading, his telekinesis was easier to manipulate. It was different, too, from his mental conversations with Ashe. With the telekinesis, he could almost feel the power pooling in his mind and reaching out to the objects around him. It was like a muscle he could flex at will. It was hard for him to put into coherent thought, but it seemed like his telepathy was more like an external force, something he had no agency over. Though he had only been aware of his telekinetic power for a few minutes, he already felt that it was much more a tangible part of him than the telepathy ever would be.

  There was a click on the other end of the phone as Winnie answered, and Peter immediately started on his explanation of what had happened with Ashe and the argument, and the manifestation of his new power. Winnie apparently realized the gravity of the situation right away and did not attempt to interrupt him. Peter left out nothing except the nature of the specific memory that had sparked his sudden outburst. As upset as he was, he didn’t think Ashe would have appreciated his sharing of such a personal matter. Peter himself didn’t even know the truth behind what he had seen, and the more time passed the greater his doubt became. Peter hadn’t seen the kiss itself. He had only assumed there was one before the door had slammed and the memory had cut out. It was quite possible that Ashe had rejected Will’s advance. Not only possible, but almost certain. Peter knew the bond that he had with Ashe could not be broken so easily.

  Peter waited for Winnie’s response.

  The old woman sighed heavily. “I was hoping you wouldn’t call me with something like this. It’s apparently much worse than I thought.” She sounded regretful, with none of the usual playfulness in her tone.

  “But you said the powers would drain me, make me hungrier. I feel fine apart from the new powers. Nothing has changed,” Peter said, more to reassure himself than anything else.

  “Of course you’d feel fine,” Winnie replied. “It’s Ashe I’m worried about.”

  Peter gulped. “Why Ashe?”

  Winnie countered with another question. “Has Ashe been feeling sick lately? Maybe looking more tire
d than usual or acting strangely, out of character?”

  Peter thought about the dark circles under Ashe’s eyes and the drawn look to her face that had concerned him recently. She seemed to have lost an unhealthy amount of weight in the span of days. He then remembered the way she had choked while trying to drink water, as if swallowing had hurt her throat. Peter had written it off as the onset of a flu, but Winnie’s concerned tone made him think it was something far worse. Peter relayed this to Winnie.

  “It was my mistake,” Winnie said. “I never should have given you those earrings without knowing what they truly were.”

  “The family heirlooms,” he said. “The ones I gave to Ashe for Christmas. But what do they have to do with Ashe being sick?”

  “You knew what they meant when you gave them to her.”

  They meant that Ashe was part of his clan. She was under their protection for as long as she lived. He thought that by giving Ashe the earrings he was keeping her safe, not endangering her as he apparently had.

  Winnie replied, “By giving Ashe those earrings, you were bonding her to your family by more than just your word. What I didn’t know was that those earrings carry the very blood of your clan’s matriarch. They are, in essence, a vessel containing her power, a means to pass down her abilities to future generations in order to create a line of vampires stronger than any other. In this case, your matriarch’s ability to project thoughts and emotions at will.”

  Peter listened uneasily as Winnie explained. “You’re telling me that Ashe is the one manifesting the powers?”

  “The telepathy, yes,” Winnie replied. “I’m sure you’ve found that your efforts to stem the flow of thoughts coming from Ashe have been useless. That’s because Ashe is the one controlling the power. Just as you have found that you can control your telekinesis at will, Ashe has the ability to stop projecting her thoughts to you. She can’t control the power because she doesn’t know she has it. It’s also what’s making her sick.