by Jaye Shields
While she spoke, Sabin tossed throwing stars into the necks of approaching demons. A vampire misted behind him, and he stabbed it with a swift backward motion.
As her aunts bickered over whether to perform a healing spell or simply wrap her leg up, her consciousness steadied. Not painful enough to pass out, but pain enough for a reality bitch-slap. Lucky me.
“I’m feeling better and better,” she grumbled between the two worried aunts. “How about you just spell me with an aspirin phaser?”
A demon smacked into the protection barrier, a vibration buzzing through the air around them. The aunts looked but refocused on Sparrow when they realized the spell was still firmly in place.
“She’s bleeding out and she wants a painkiller incantation,” Morgana freaked. “She really is delirious.”
“No, seriously, Sabin gutted the demon dog before it did too much damage. I’m just a bleeder.”
“It’s because the healing spell is kicking in, dearie.” Melissandra smiled down at her, happy now that they’d been able to concentrate while Tera and Sabin distracted the demons. “Although if I were you, I’d stay off the ground.”
“Got it. Just gonna call for reinforcements first.”
“Reinforcements?” Morgana questioned.
“I thought we were the reinforcements,” Melissandra added quizzically.
With the help of her aunts, Sparrow got to her feet. “The more the merrier when it comes to epic hell battles on Alcatraz Island, that’s what I’ve always said.” She winked at her family before limping for cover to place the phone call. Her aunts went to work helping Tera, since Sabin was nowhere in sight.
Sparrow clutched her Blackberry. The sounds of screeching demons and cursing vampires nearly drowned out the ring as she dialed Michelle, a were-jaguar. Should be handy enough in battle.
The phone rang, and rang, and the seconds passed by like hours. Sparrow’s eyes darted across the chaotic scene unfolding before her. Tera fought in a whirl of auburn hair and she catapulted in back flips across the terrain to avoid teleporting vampires.
Finally, the call went to voicemail. Sparrow blurted into the receiver as she surveyed the battle. “I know we kinda just met, so I hope you don’t think I’m overstepping my bounds, but I really need your help … ” Sparrow sucked in a breath. “And when I say that we need your help, I mean fighting World War Demon. Long story short: there’s a portal located on Alcatraz Island, and at this moment, demons are spilling out of it. I was hoping your vamp boy toy could teleport you here.” She stepped out of the protective doorway of the prison. “I’m on Alcatraz Isl-.” The phone fell as her feet left the ground.
A painful grip crushed her shoulders, and soon she was surrounded by thick fog. Looking up, Sparrow was horrified by what she saw. The demon soaring through the fog was a skeleton, complete with claws and decaying flesh and muscle. The wings that cut through the clouds were stretched by a thin, bat-like membrane. The skull was a gruesome mix of bone and dead tissues, the eye sockets, deep, black holes. It looked back at her and roared, revealing long, needlelike teeth.
She squirmed in its grip. The fear choking her prevented Sparrow from transforming. She looked down, but couldn’t see the ground through the thick fog to know how far she’d fall.
Another body collided into the soaring demon. Duncan. Apparently, they mystical couple she’d just had received Sparrow’s voicemail. The vampire had teleported to the flying beast and locked on with a tight grip. Together, the trio ascended through the air, but the demon noticed the extra presence and tried to shake the vampire loose.
Clutched by sharp claws, Sparrow watched Duncan climb the grotesque, skeletal creature. He reached up to the giant wing and tore with supernatural might. With a sickening rip, she watched the entire wing sever and fall toward the ground.
Air fled her lungs as she, too, plummeted.
In an instant, Duncan had her in his grip and teleported them to the ground safely. When the demon landed with a thud beside them, the vampire left her side to decapitate the monster. Sparrow tried not to gape at the dark shades of blood spurting in every direction.
“Thanks.” She appraised Duncan. He was the only vampire that resided in Alameda, the small town where she lived.
He didn’t respond, only surveyed the chaotic battle surrounding them with a dangerous glare. Then Sparrow realized Michelle was not with him.
“Duncan, where is Michelle? We need all the help we can get.”
“I’ll be back.” With that, he teleported away.
Sparrow flashed back into the falcon. In an explosion of light, she was air born. Spying a demon headed for Melissandra, she dive-bombed its head with her thick beak.
This gave her aunt just enough time to spin around and stab the creature with the giant sword Sabin had given her. The heavy weapon looked barely usable, and Sparrow noted the exhaustion on her aunt’s face. Help had better get here soon.
As if on cue, she heard the roar of a jaguar, announcing Michelle’s entry to the battle.
Shifting her flight pattern, she was horrified at the sight of Morgana being forced against the ground by a succubus, her aunt too weak to maintain the protection barrier. The voluptuous creature was naked, covered by pale pink skin, dragging a forked tongue down her aunt’s cheek. Michelle’s jaguar form launched onto the demon’s back, ripping through its flesh like butter with long, sharp claws. Sparrow exhaled as Morgana was freed and erected a safety orb once more.
Tera, on the other hand, was taking on three demons at once. Of course, she was holding her own despite being outnumbered. An advantage of being trained by the Goddess of the Hunt.
As Sparrow flew past the prison, she saw Sabin drop through the portal. She halted her path and hovered. He’d brought several other warriors with him, probably all Knights of the Fog. Except for a man with blue scales covering his skin and wings coming out of his back, who seemed to be slightly out of place.
One warrior in particular caught her attention, and her falcon heart nearly stopped as she caught sight of his handsome image. His broad, muscled shoulders were wrapped in artillery. Weapons were strapped over every inch of his hard, bare torso. Even from the sky Sparrow could make out the deep vee carved into his abdomen where low-slung leather pants met skin.
A burst of heat reminded Sparrow of the dragon still at large. No time to ogle the immortal warriors.
Sparrow spied a vampire wrestling with a black jaguar down on the ground and swooped down, landing on her feet as a woman. The vamp was squeezing the big, black cat’s ribcage and a feline roar echoed through the night. Sparrow grabbed a stake in her back pocket and drove it through the vampire’s heart. Or at least she meant to.
The vampire turned on her and hissed, pulling free the stake that had just barely missed its mark. A massive forced knocked Sparrow to the ground. She coughed as air flushed from her lungs but looked up to see one of the knights grab the stake from the vampire, and finish the job before it could teleport.
The man with silver hair watched the vampire slump to the ground and decompose. The flesh gave way to blood, the pale skin shriveling into blackness, and finally, ash. The knight’s eyes were tiny gemstones, like aquamarine, as they shifted from the goo and ash-soaked ground and found her gaze. A long, muscular arm extended her way, and Sparrow was staring at Adonis come to life.
Rather than melt into his arms, she smirked. “Thanks for the help, pretty boy. I don’t usually miss.” And then she flashed into the falcon, her clothes instantly becoming feathers.
Definitely no time to be distracted by some kind of buffed-out, silver-haired James Dean.
She barreled once more through the fog, this time in the direction of the flying beast. Spotting it through the dense fog, it hurled flames haphazardly through the sky. She bet the creature could barely see the battle on the ground through the haz
e — even her own peregrine eyesight strained against the layer.
What the hell was going to be her plan of attack?
A blue-scaled demon rocketed past her in a blur. The idea flashed through her that it might be on their side since it was headed for the other dragon. She watched it land on its back and puncture one side of the dragon’s neck with a dagger. Good enough for her. Sparrow flew to the flying blue dragon’s aid.
In a swift motion, she flew in a circle around the dragon’s mouth, trying to confuse it. The massive beast tried to light her on fire, but she noticed that flames were barely leaking out. She flew in repeating circles around the dragon’s head, realizing that the other demon disabled the brimstone by puncturing the gland in its neck.
She scarcely caught a glimpse of the demon as she twirled acrobatically through the air, but noted that its face seemed very much human, and handsome at that.
The dragon choked on more flames, and let out a roar with the demon’s last thrust to its neck. As she flipped through the air once more, she acrobatically avoided the sharp teeth that chomped at her. The bite force reminded her of a hippo, and in her falcon form, she could’ve easily fit inside.
Mid-flight, Sparrow’s feathers began to disappear. Pain seared through her. Horrified, she realized what was happening. Her new tattoo, which had barely been dry when she left the parlor, was now faltering.
Then she was falling.
Instead of magickally turning back to her womanly form, the tattoo ink caused a slow transition. A few of her feathers gradually turned to fingertips. Enough of her feathers turned to human skin for her to fall through the air, and she was helpless, unable to fly.
The ground came first.
Excruciating pain.
And then, darkness.
Chapter Three
As the battle died down, Rowen crowded with the others around the lifeless girl. The young woman lay on the ground like a fallen angel, her blond hair was sunlight spilled across the dark, cold ground. Feathers dotted the pavement near where she fell. Her pale skin showed no bruises, and the fall hadn’t caused her to bleed. But that just worried him more.
Her bones were probably broken, and surely she was bleeding internally. Profusely. As an immortal, he had seen injuries like this before, and mortals didn’t survive them easily. His heart clenched at the thought. To lose such an incredible beauty was a tragedy. Her face alone rivaled the sweetest of dreams. Her skin was like cream, her lips full and pink. She was the image of innocence, yet she had battled against demons like an immortal.
The sounds of her family, screaming in agony, grated against his nerves. He was a warrior, used to punishing, but not accustomed to tragedy. Truly, she was well loved — just as sweet and kind in life as she looked in her silent state. In her dead state.
The thought nearly brought Rowen to his knees, but he wasn’t sure why.
Rowen looked to Sodor on his right, and they communicated telepathically with each other.
We must make room for the Quetzalem to work.
His comrade nodded in agreement. In a swift, yet gentle maneuver, Rowen swept one of the young woman’s family members into his arms. He and Sodor carried the hysterical women away. “Tis for the good of the girl. She will be okay. Pyrrhus will see to her now,” he tried to reassure the elderly woman.
“How can you know?” She struggled within his firm grasp and her voice choked on anger and desperation. “How can you know she will be okay? I must go to her!”
Rowen didn’t take the time to explain. But he knew that if the young woman was not too far gone, the properties of the dragon demon’s blood would heal all of her injuries and speed up the process of mending bones and binding skin. However, she would be left with some very unique side effects.
Historically, the Quetzalem were hunted for their blood, so a slow evolution now protected the dragon demons with dream-inducing properties laced within their blood. Anyone who drank from a Quetzalem would either have dreams of lust or dreams of fear of the one they drank from. This caused warriors to think twice before stealing blood from a Quetzalem, and the opposite sex from obliging to reproduce.
“She will heal.” Rowen clutched the woman against him, and then peeked over to Sodor to ensure the other was okay. Her tears were drying, her gaze fixed on the dragon demon.
The Quetzalem tucked its wings into its back, and they folded themselves back into his skin. Rowen watched him approach the young woman’s still body. The vampire was also near the girl, accompanied by a black jaguar.
“She’s alive. At least, a little,” the vampire spoke in a low voice. “Her pulse is weak, but it’s there.”
“Good.” Pyrrhus, the Quetzalem, took her dainty wrist in his hand. “But she’ll need to be somewhat conscious for this.”
“No!” Rowen heard a determined cry from within his arms. The voice shook with fury. “Don’t you dare turn her into a vampire.”
The vampire’s eyes darkened until they were black coals. He looked offended as he gritted out a response. “That is not happening.”
Rowen knew it wasn’t. He would have decapitated the vampire with his own bare hands first.
Sabin addressed the women to explain what Rowen had not. “Dragon blood has incredible healing properties. But we don’t want her to choke or suffocate as the blood enters her throat. Is there a way you can jog her consciousness with a spell?”
Rowen set his woman on the ground, and she began to concentrate along with the woman who appeared to be her sister. All the while, Pyrrhus cradled that beautiful ray of light in his arms. A stab of jealousy branded Rowan’s body with heat, but it quickly subsided to shame. He shouldn’t be selfish enough to want to be the one to hold the girl. To be her hero, heal all her wounds, and watch her sapphire eyes open to the world once more.
Then it happened.
The young angel opened her eyes and focused on Pyrrhus. Rowen’s heart ached as fear seized her. And then pain. It twisted across her face in waves as the agony of her injuries arrived with consciousness. He never wanted to see this torment on a woman’s face ever again. Now he understood why Sabin had fought back against him and the other knights when they discovered him and the Dryad, Tera.
Pyrrhus’s voice penetrated the bleak moment. “I can heal you, little one, but you must swallow.”
Instead, she thrashed in his arms, but stilled against the pain. Once more, his heart did a painful flip-flop. He watched Pyrrhus drag his wrist quickly across a hardened scale, and place it against her mouth, giving her no choice but to drink the hot fluid.
Tera, who rolled up frantically on the scene just after the Quetzalem began his work, tried to reassure her friend. “It’ll be okay, Sparrow. I love you, Sparrow, hang on.”
He watched Sparrow’s angelic face slip back into unconsciousness once more. He could only hope that she had drank enough to heal her wounds.
“She will heal. It is probably good that she has fallen back into unconsciousness, because she has much healing to do, but it has begun,” Pyrrhus put the group at ease.
A knight approached the group, blood dripping from his body. “The last have been finished.”
Rowen nodded in appreciation at his comrade. This usually-ill-tempered knight seemed calm, also affected by the mortals’ bravery and the young woman’s condition.
The vampire stepped forward and addressed the girl’s teary-eyed family. “I can mist her to someplace more comfortable. It would be unwise to move her much in her condition.”
With that, Rowen watched all disappear one by one to see to Sparrow. He and the other knights would clean up the area and return to the portal realm. Sabin would stay with Tera, and the mortals, and, hopefully, return later with word of Sparrow’s recovery.
For now, he could only return to the Realm of the Fog, and contemplate the hole that had opened up i
n his heart.
Chapter Four
In the dark depths of her unconsciousness, Sparrow dreamed.
From the obscurity walked a tall, ethereal creature. No, make that a man. His strong jaw and golden eyes were framed by soft, blue skin. His body was a strong, half-naked mass, covered only by low-slung white cloth pants. Through the dreamlike fabric, she could already make out the growing bulge located at the base of his long, hard torso.
As he stalked toward her through the darkness, she was overwhelmed with a sense of joy and happiness. The being radiated heat. When her eyes connected with his, a wave of raw sexual need hit her. She wasn’t sure where she was, but she did know that she needed to be in his arms in the next few seconds or she would die waiting for his touch.
He beckoned to her with a long, blue finger. She stepped toward him through the dark abyss, and watched large wings unfurl from the man’s back. They stretched out majestically and she was in awe.
“Come to me.”
She obliged as if her feet were on rails.
She opened her mouth to speak but found that in her dreamland, she was allowed no words. As she walked toward the visitor, her thin, pink chemise swayed around her thighs. She could feel the air hitting her skin there as she walked, the gauzy fabric sending caresses against her flesh. With every inch she stepped nearer to the man with wings, the space between her legs burned hotter and hotter.
When she was only a foot away, he stepped forward.
“Pyrrhus.” With that, he reached out and cupped her chin with one hand, tilting her face up so that she would meet his gaze. “You will know my name.”
The words were both demanding and erotic. From so close to his body, she made out the scent of his flesh, both sweet like spring and smoky like brimstone.
His muscular bicep flexed as he reached toward her. Slowly, he slid his finger under one of the thin pink straps of her chemise. The moment he touched the skin on her shoulder, fire lit through her body, coursing through her veins. Her entire body became a heater, and her clothes had to come off.
