by T. S. Ryder
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, there 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 th
e 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, making 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.”
“There has to be some cure for the poison,” Michelle said. “What’s the cure?”
“There is a way, but there’s not enough time. He won’t survive.”
“Please,” Michelle said, reaching across Brock’s prone form. “I have power. Tell me what the cure is and we’ll find a way to do it.”
“He has to complete his transformation. He has to become a Shifter like me. If he can survive it,” Cain shook his head.
“How does he complete the transformation?” Michelle asked.
“There has to be a third. Someone needs to be a conduit. The magic has to pass from me to the conduit and then to the infected,” he looked up at her sadly. “It’s rare that it works. There aren’t that many of us, most don’t survive the change.”
“I’ll be the conduit,” Michelle said. “Let me help you save him.”
“No,” he said. “I won’t ask that of you.”
“I’m not asking for your permission.”
Chapter Ten
Michelle frantically searched through the cabinets. Sage, myrrh, wine, candles. Thankfully, as a fellow Magical, Cain had all of these things within arm's reach. That was the end of his helpfulness. He stood over Brock watching as his friend shivered and writhed in pain. Brock was moaning quietly, sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Pull the bed out away from the wall,” Michelle ordered and thankfully, Cain was able to follow simple instructions. Michelle poured a circle of salt around the bed and then stepped over the barrier. She wasn’t sure what being a conduit included, but she needed to be able to protect herself if it put her in a vulnerable state.
She put a cast iron pot on the floor within the circle and threw in a few ripped out pages from a paperback and lit them on fire.
“Sit,” she ordered Cain and he obliged.
She threw in the sage and myrrh, filling the air around them with a sweet and smoky smell. “I don’t know what to do, you have to guide me.”
“I’ve never...I’ve never done this before,” he said kneeling on the bed.
“Trusts your instincts, they’ll guide you,” Michelle said. She poured a glass of deep red wine and staring Cain in the eye she took a sip, she handed him the cup and he took a sip, after that they lifted Brock’s head and he sipped the wine down as well.
The smoke and herbs were swimming in the air around them. Even though it had only been one glass of wine, she felt a little tipsy. It was a strong wine, but even stronger was the magic she put into it.
She stared at Cain and his aura erupted around him as he squeezed her hand. Below them, Brock’s aura was an undulating white and green, both colors mixing together, but not blending. The green was slowly overtaking the white.
She took Brock’s hand in hers and kissed his knuckles, looking down at his shivering form. Still holding Brock’s hand with her right hand, she took Cain’s hand with her left hand next, and repeated the action, laying a series of kisses along his knuckles.
“Show us the way,” she whispered. “Save him. You know how to do it.”
He leaned forward and kissed her, his hands holding her by the neck and pulling her closer and closer. The herbs and smoke and wine were mingling and she felt that strange weightlessness that came from magic. Spells were other
worldly, they were something else. They didn’t follow the normal rules of the physical world.
She kissed him back as the smoke blossomed and grew. It was more smoke than her small fire could have made. The smoke was thick and swirling, but it wasn’t burning her lungs or her eyes. The smoke was like a hurricane. It was swirling all around them, obscuring everything else in the room. But they were in the eye, the small bed with the three of them was free of smoke, the air was clear.
Everything was clear. Everything was standing out in harsh light. The sensation of Cain’s hands on her body was intense. It was like electricity coursing through her veins, lighting along her skin. She felt charged. She gasped as Cain moved down to her neck, kissing and licking the sensitive skin there. She leaned into him, desperate for more. Her hands were tangling in his hair.
She looked up at him and saw not his crystal blue eyes, but the dark, yellow eyes of the dragon. She was not afraid. She reached up and caressed the skin of his cheek. He leaned into her touch as his hand moved down her neck and to her breasts.
She felt someone behind her. He touched her skin and his touch was fire. She cried out in pleasure, as he traced fire over her shoulders and neck. It was Brock. He was breathing deeply. It was the harsh ragged breath of the dragon. He pulled her back against him. She could feel his erection pushing against her back as his hands came up and captured her breasts.
Brock was laying kisses along the back of her neck and then Cain was in front of her, kissing her mouth, his tongue dancing with hers. The sensations were too much, she couldn’t tell who was touching what, but she wanted none of it to stop.
“Yes,” she cried out, throwing her head back. Cain took the opportunity to lean down and kiss her chest while Brock unzipped her dress. He traced kisses down her back as the zipper went lower and lower. Goosebumps erupted on her arms when Cain pulled the front of her dress down until she was in nothing but her bra and panties.
