The Fire Eater and Her Dragon: A Dragon Rider Urban Fantasy Novel (Setting Fires with Dragons Book 3)

by S. W. Clarke

  Frank’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he kept his eyes strictly off Lust. He stared at Seleema as he said, “Sixty-four.” Even so, the answer came almost without hesitation, as though he didn’t really have a choice. She was Lust, and he was but a human born to sin by her and her six deadly siblings.

  “Sixty-four,” Lust repeated. “So many for a human, but so few to me. Do you know, Franklin Stubemeyer, that I know of a thousand more pleasures even a courtesan of heaven is unacquainted with?”

  Frank didn’t answer. His neck had flushed.

  “And do you know,” Lust went on, “the possibilities for lovemaking if you and Seleema were to come to me now, to stand by my side, to sleep in my bed? Can you imagine us beside you, Franklin? Sliding, slipping, sucking—”

  “That’s enough,” Frank called out, his voice cracking. “Stop it. Seleema, what are you doing?”

  Seleema had taken one step forward, then another. “A thousand pleasures?”

  “And I will teach you and Franklin every one of them,” Lust purred. “Together, the three of us. We will be eternally satisfied.”

  Seleema’s hand, still entwined with Frank’s, stretched out behind her as she moved beyond him. As he held back, she pressed forward, their arms reaching their full length as he resisted and she succumbed.

  “Don’t go, Seleema,” Frank begged.

  “Seleema,” I called to her. “She’s lying. Stay with us.”

  But it was already too late. If Frank couldn’t stop her, no one could.

  She approached Lust with unfaltering intent, her long, powerful legs carrying her toward the threshold. And finally, as a testament to Lust’s power, she let go of Frank’s hand.

  Without even pausing, Seleema passed through the flames.

  Chapter 14

  Seleema’s slender, beautiful frame filled the doorway as she stepped through. Her black hair swept over her shoulders, the warm night air washing over her.

  “No!” Frank yelled, taking two steps forward and falling to both knees. “Seleema, please. Please don’t.”

  It was useless. Erik knew it, too. “Don’t get any closer, Frank,” he said. “Seleema’s under Lust’s spell. She isn’t herself.”

  How was Erik so resistant to Lust? So level-headed? There was something he wasn’t telling me, because as a red-blooded man, he should have been falling all over himself to get to her.

  Then I realized: the World Army had been hunting Lust for weeks, maybe months. He’d had anti-magic weaponry from the beginning, and probably training to boot. He knew to close his eyes. He knew about her spell.

  Of all of us, he was the best equipped to resist her.

  Frank turned wide, terrified eyes on Erik. “So how do we get her out from under the spell?”

  “We can’t,” Erik bit out. “Not unless we find a way to put Lust in a box where Seleema can’t see her or hear her.”

  I glanced at the World Army soldier in my periphery. “Let me go. I can put her in that box.”

  He held tight. “You think you can take on two angels and that little army standing on the front lawn?”

  “I’ll try that over standing here and watching.”

  “We’re insects to her. I know you love that dragon, but running through that door isn’t the way, Tara.”

  “The human is right,” another voice growled from beside me.

  My head swiveled around to find Valdis standing not a foot from me, his dark eyes fixated on Lust.

  Finally.

  “What are we waiting for?” I shot at the vampire. “Your front door’s gone. We’ve already lost one dragon and one houri.”

  Valdis didn’t respond. His nostrils flared, and his chest moved with a great intake of air. It occurred to me for the first time that he still needed to breathe, that he wasn’t fully a vampire as yet.

  He was still a little bit mortal. And he was about to step into the greatest fight of his life.

  Outside, Seleema came face to face with Lust. The sin raised one hand and set it to Seleema’s cheek, speaking soft words to her. Whatever was exchanged between them, I knew it was only deepening the enchantment.

  “When she attempts to enter,” Valdis whispered to me and Erik, “I have only one request. Fight her. Fight her with everything you have. Do not let her have my daughter.”

  I stared at Valdis. Earlier this evening, he had told us that if Lust ever possessed Ariadne, the world would end. And he meant it. The world would actually end. I didn’t know what that meant at the time, but I had an inkling of it now.

  I had seen her power over Percy. I had seen her power over Seleema. I had seen the serene faces of those angels standing at either side of her.

  Lust’s power already encompassed those around her. If possessing Ariadne enhanced that power, she wouldn’t just be formidable. She would be devastating. The whole world would fall to its knees, just as Lust had promised Mariana.

  We might never rise to our feet again.

  My eyes slowly trailed back to Lust. Seleema had taken up her place at the sin’s side, her gaze fixed in perfect adoration on her new mistress. No matter that Frank was on his knees, sobbing for her to come back to him. No matter that he had the Brad Pitt of souls.

  Seleema didn’t hear. She didn’t see.

  It was heartbreaking. Infuriating.

  I clenched my fists, fixing on Percy. I would fight to keep Lust from having Ariadne, sure. But what really got my blood up was fighting for my dragon. He was an innocent, and I would never let him be her puppet. Which meant I couldn’t let her walk out of here with him.

  “Now,” Lust said to us, her voice tinkling through the doorway, “I’d like to meet the lady of the house. I have yet to introduce myself to the remarkable creature you call Ariadne.”

  Before she could take another step forward, two figures came around me from either side.

  On my left, Valdis.

  On my right, the Soul Hunter. His flail clinked, the ball swaying as he stood shoulder to shoulder with the vampire.

  “If you take one more step, concupiscent whore,” Valdis said in a low, steely tone, “I will rend your head from your shoulders.”

  Chapter 15

  Lust didn’t move. Her smile didn’t fade.

  Her chest rose as she breathed, eyes flicking to the ghoul. “And you, Soul Hunter? Why do you stand in my path?”

  “The half-soul is a boon to this world,” he growled. The half-soul was Ariadne, I realized. “And if I allow you to have her—to make her into an abomination—I will have forfeited my principles.”

  “Principles.” Lust’s throat closed with a chuckle, two tiny dimples appearing at either side of her mouth. Damn, why did Lust get to have dimples, too? “What are principles in the face of desire? The world is not run by philosophers or men of great principle, ghoul. It is fueled by desire, by want—by need. Take water from a man’s lips for a day and watch how he grovels for its return.”

  “Man is weak,” the Soul Hunter said. “But man alone does not inhabit this world.”

  Sin’s smile deepened. “Yes, we do as well, don’t we? And why is that, Soul Hunter? Is it because the gods forsook us and left us to be ruled by man, whom you call weak?”

  I had to admit, she had him in a bit of a logical bind there.

  “We live alongside the humans,” he said. “Not ruled by them.”

  “Oh?” Sin shook her head. “You know better than that, ghoul. Look at whom you protect. Look upon the vampire holding your leash. Would it not be better for you to join me? I know of better uses for that flail.”

  The Soul Hunter gripped the weapon harder. “I have protected this world for thousands of years. I will not let it fall to a denizen of Sin.”

  As they talked, I kept trying to catch Percy’s eye. Maybe if he looked at me, he’d remember. Maybe if I could get his attention, I could win him back.

  Lust sighed. “Still impervious to real pleasure, I see. You lack luster, ghoul. I bore of looking at you.” Her eyes shifted to
Valdis. “Well, vampire, I never thought one such as you and one such as I would be at such odds. But I suppose this is the way of things when children are involved. And since we are not otherwise at odds, I shall tell you once: aside with you—I’m coming forward.”

  When Lust took another step closer, Valdis did exactly what he’d promised he would do.

  He blurred through the doorway, the flames washing after him. I barely caught sight of his outstretched arms, the fingers curled to close around Lust’s throat. But he didn’t reach her neck, or even to within a foot of it. He was blocked by an enormous, white-feathered wing.

  An angel’s wing.

  One of the angels had stepped in his way, his massive wing outstretched to stop Valdis’s hands from ever touching Lust’s body.

  Above the wing, I caught a glimpse of Lust’s amused eyes. She was enjoying this—immensely. Of course she was. What would a mortal sin like her relish more than anything else? Attention. Adoration. To be fought over. She wasn’t just enjoying this … she was loving it. “You will have to do better than that, vampire.”

  The moment of stillness passed, and then everything happened quickly. Almost too quickly for me to process, like I was watching the fight not at double speed, but at triple; my eyes struggled to keep up as Valdis attempted to skirt the angel, swinging around and closing in on the other side.

  The angel blocked him a second time. The enormous Other didn’t attack—he just extended an arm or a wing, fully closing Lust off from Valdis. For as quick as the vampire was, the angel was quicker. And bigger. And just as devoted to his cause, it seemed, as Valdis was to protecting Ariadne.

  A soft voice sounded in my head. Mariana. I hadn’t heard her since the moment she’d been ripped to shreds by the demon inside me. Of course she wasn’t gone; her presence inside me was stronger than that. “Trust Valdis and wait for your moment. It will come.”

  And just like that, my impulsive fury passed. Mariana was right, as much as I didn’t like to admit it. I needed to wait for my moment.

  “Erik,” I said over my shoulder. “Let me go. I won’t run.”

  Evidently I’d been convincing enough this time, because Erik’s hands loosened. When I came free, I unholstered both whips, lowering my stance and keeping one eye on Percy, one eye on the battle.

  “Shall we kill them all?” I heard the angel ask Lust, even as he blocked Valdis a third time.

  A tiny smile touched Lust’s lips just before the angel’s wing extended again to fend off another of Valdis’s attacks. “No,” she said. “They are but insects to us.”

  Insects. We were nothing to her.

  But it was more than that. When the question was asked, Seleema’s eyes had widened. Her head had turned away from Lust, and she stared at Frank through the doorway. A new light entered her pupils, and I saw her true self floating back to the surface.

  I glanced between Seleema and Frank. What had changed? Why was Seleema paying attention to him now? And then it hit me: Frank was the object of Seleema’s truest, deepest affections. If Lust killed him—or tried to—her spell would be broken.

  And Lust noticed it, too. She set delicate fingers on Seleema’s shoulder. “But Franklin is a king,” she whispered.

  Seleema’s eyes lidded as she sank back into the dream.

  The Soul Hunter joined the fray, the ball of his flail flashing under the light as he stepped through the flaming doorway. It arced straight toward Lust’s gorgeous head, but was deflected by the second angel’s upraised broadsword.

  As Valdis crashed into the first angel, the Soul Hunter faced off against the other. Together, vampire and ghoul battled the angels, both of whom had now unsheathed the greatswords at their waists. Metal clanged on metal. At some point, Valdis had withdrawn a short blade and now fought on with it, still swinging and stabbing faster than my eyes could follow.

  The angel parried, blocked, refused to allow Valdis to draw any nearer to the object of his desire. He bore no fear, no real emotion—his face was a thrall’s, sunken deep into the pit of lust. It seemed his wingbones were hard as adamantium, because they never moved an inch. Instead, the blade bounced off them.

  The Soul Hunter swung the flail fast and hard at the other angel, whose wings never extended. Instead, the seven-foot Other met every swing of the flail with his greatsword. When he turned, I saw why he didn’t use his wings: they had been hobbled. That must have been the Soul Hunter’s doing when they had attempted to ambush the angels to get to the helicopter.

  I didn’t know much about angels, but I did know one thing: when you stabbed them in just the right place in the back, you could really cripple their wings. Permanently. Which meant that angel had good reason to be pissed at the ghoul.

  This was a personal vendetta.

  ↔

  Only a few seconds had elapsed since all this began—long enough for me to arm myself and not much else. My hands had gone automatically to Thelma and Louise, unholstering them before the thought had even crossed my mind.

  But as much as I thought of my fighting prowess, this battle was beyond a human’s senses.

  On Lust’s other side, the angel’s wing knocked Valdis straight into Seleema. The two of them scuffled, and then the houri thrust him back. She stepped toward Valdis as he dodged a swing from the angel’s sword, leaned back and kicked him square in the chest.

  Valdis went flying off the porch and hit the tree in the yard with an enormous crack. The tree’s branches shuddered, the whole trunk crumpling as the vampire’s semi-immortal body made contact with the kind of force that would obliterate a human.

  I swear, as he slid down the trunk to the ground, I saw the outline of his body where he’d hit that tremendous old tree.

  My mouth opened. Seleema was capable of a kick like that? All this time, I hadn’t known.

  Meanwhile, Lust didn’t move. She didn’t even turn to look at Valdis. She didn’t need to; those in her thrall would never allow Lust’s enemies to set one finger on her.

  Lust raised her hand—clearly a signal. As she did, one of the angels and Seleema stepped down off the porch and started toward Valdis, who had by some magical miracle gotten back to his feet.

  Meanwhile, the battle between the Soul Hunter and the hobbled angel raged on beside Lust, the two of them circling and clashing as metal sang on metal.

  Oh, screw this, I thought.

  This wasn’t time for holding back, even if I was an insect to Lust.

  If I could give Valdis and the Soul Hunter even the slightest advantage over her—the smallest opening—I would do so. I wasn’t afraid for my life so much as Percy’s, and I knew the only way to save Percy was to kill Lust.

  Her death was the only way to break her spell, permanently.

  I had an opening. While the first angel was occupied with Valdis and the hobbled angel with the Soul Hunter, Lust stood alone.

  Unprotected.

  Vulnerable.

  As much as Mariana wanted me to trust Valdis, he’d just been made one with an oak tree. Now it was time for me to make my move.

  I passed through the flaming doorway, uncoiling Thelma and cracking her sidelong at Lust’s face. I would put a groove so deep it would pass right through skin and muscle, drive straight to bone.

  But I should have known that Lust is never vulnerable.

  Not with a seven-foot-tall houri by her side. Seleema stepped in my way before Thelma made contact.

  “Seleema,” I breathed just as the houri’s leg lifted, the knee bending and her foot rising, rising until it was directly at the level of my chest. Above that foot, Seleema’s dark eyes flashed with anger.

  I was attacking the object of her adoration. I was the enemy.

  I managed to strafe just far enough to the left that her foot only connected with my shoulder. Nonetheless, I went spinning from the force. GoneGods, I’d never known how powerful Seleema was until now.

  It felt like I’d been hit by a cement block. I heard a crack, and I hoped it wasn’t on
e of my bones.

  The world raced around me, and then I hit the porch with a thud. Pain shot through my opposite shoulder, and my head knocked the ground.

  But I didn’t have time to care.

  Metal clanged, and I pushed myself half upright just in time to avoid the Soul Hunter’s spiked ball as it arced low. The hobbled angel met the swing with his greatsword, and it gleamed under the porchlight as the two fought on.

  I pushed myself up, still gripping Thelma and Louise. Life as a carnie and street performer had taught me an important lesson: if you can help it, never lose hold of your crucial props, no matter what they are.

  I swung in on the hobbled angel with Thelma, cracking him across the chest even as he raised his greatsword to swing down on the Soul Hunter. Even though it did absolutely zilch to hurt him—well, maybe it stung a little—it did throw off his aim, and the swing came down at an angle, missing the Soul Hunter and cracking the wooden boards between me and the ghoul.

  The two of us leapt away from the sword; I fell against the side of the house, and the Soul Hunter against the porch railing. And I could have sworn we met eyes for a second. I realized with a start that we were fighting side by side.

  Then the moment passed, and the Soul Hunter’s flail came up and around in a whistle, crashing into the angel’s shoulder.

  I followed up with Louise, overhead-cracking her across the angel’s beautiful, pristine face. It was only in the moment I was attempting to permanently scar him that I processed what an incredible creature he was.

  An angel straight from the heavens, his blond hair streaming to his shoulders, his features all in perfect synchrony with one another—square jaw, aquiline nose, blue eyes.

  The angel squeezed his eyes shut and grunted with the two blows, took a bracing step as the flail’s spikes clanged against the pauldron of his platemail, half-crushing the armor and surely breaking a bone or two. No way a swing like that couldn’t break something, even if you were an angel.

  But I was wrong.

  Because in the next breath, the battle between the Soul Hunter and the hobbled angel came to an abrupt end.