The Vampire Touch 2: Into the Uknown

by Sarah J. Stone

  Peter looked frustrated by this, but eventually sat.

  “Earth,” he said, slowly. “Because…we are…connected?”

  “Connected?” Yvette said, sitting up a bit straighter. “How?”

  “We are…” Peter looked to Enya, who screwed up her face in difficulty.

  “Related,” she said. “Oh. Dragons and humans descended from the same ancestors. All shifters did. From Earth.”

  “From Earth?” Yvette said. “So we are the same? Once upon a time?”

  “Once,” Peter replied.

  “Oh,” Yvette said, meeting his eyes. Again, there was that feeling–that odd connection–that she couldn't explain. Peter dropped his gaze first, and Yvette drifted back to her phone.

  Maybe he wasn't an evil, overlord king. Maybe he was just a confused, lost soul like she was.

  Chapter 6

  “So, they colonized America, and were successful for a while until the American Revolution…,” Yvette had decided that today's lesson was going to be about one of the most famous moments in American history. They alternated between language lessons, history lessons, and culture lessons. It seemed Peter knew absolutely nothing about Earth. The dragon princes had started learning about Earth a lot in the last ten years, understanding that they needed to keep an eye on the lesser planet. There were thousands of planets in the galaxy, but Earth, of course, had a special connection to the dragons.

  It had been three weeks since she arrived there. Yvette spent three hours a day sitting on the couch with Peter, with binders and books, and her brains stretched to the limit. Peter would duck in to spend time with her when he wasn't on the throne, in a meeting, or screaming at his brothers. It wasn't the best time to learn anything. He would sit with her, staring glassy-eyed, distracted, or moody. His language was improving slightly, but everything she taught him seemed to confuse or annoy him. He wasn't mean to her, but he was clearly miserable, baffled, and unsatisfied in general.

  “To leave their king,” Peter scoffed. “And now they are a mess.”

  Yvette smirked at that as she closed the book.

  “Yes. And we learned last week that many places on Earth left their monarchy…their king.” she recognized the confused look on his face right away and changed her wording. Whenever a word was lost on Peter, his brow furrowed in a certain way. She thought it was adorable until he followed it up with a snarl.

  “Heathens,” he answered. “Ruling is hard.”

  “I see that,” Yvette replied. “Every day.”

  Peter looked at her for the first time all day. His weary eyes were red-rimmed, and she wondered if he had slept at all. He focused on her a moment, processing the words.

  “We do not get to choose,” he said at last. She wasn't sure that it was the right translation, but he was trying.

  “No,” she said. “But that is the case with everyone.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “No one else is king.”

  “I mean, about other things,” she said. “I mean, I didn't choose to get sick. But I have to work with what I have.”

  “But it is cured?”

  “No,” she said, shifting her legs around. “Not on Earth, and not here, as far as I know.”

  Peter scoffed.

  “There is nothing that we cannot–”

  “Enya,” she met his eyes. “Enya is not cured. She told me her story, that the magic and the science forced into her cannot cure her.”

  “Pfft,” Peter answered, and suddenly reached his arm out. Yvette angled backwards, surprised at the sudden gesture. He stopped, his face softening. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

  “I know” she replied, although she stayed still. Carefully, he reached out, the confident king that he was supposed to be.

  She closed her eyes. Dragons had touched her with magic before. Thomas had a very unique brand of magic, compared to Armand's gently healing touch. But neither of them could rearrange her bodily organs in a way that was safe. The grey matter was too far down her brain stem, and even those who had the surgery weren't always cured.

  Peter's magic was so different. It felt so strong, so pure, as magic flowed into every one of her veins. She felt it touch the tips of her fingers, down her spine, and up into her head. The pressure she had been feeling all day was slightly relieved, and her energy began to return. But more than any of it, it was Peter's hands on her face–his cool, long-fingered hand reaching around the back of her head. His hand was soon gently tangled in her hair as his fingers moved downwards. He could identify the problem, but it wasn't until he touched it that he realized how bad it was.

  Peter gasped suddenly, just as Yvette felt a white light in front of her eyes. There was pain, and she felt dizzy, her stomach turning. Her eyes flew open, her green meeting his yellow ones. There was one moment where everything seemed to stand still. And then she fell forward into his arms.

  He had never felt damage like that; never felt something that expanded through someone's whole body. A dragon would throw themselves off a cliff for less. He hated to admit it, but he had chosen to enter the Other without anything physically wrong with him. And yet this girl walked around with this every day with a smile on her face.

  He realized that he was holding her unconscious body on the couch. She was slumped against him, and her chest rose and fell steadily.

  He didn't dare move except to untangle his hands from her hair. Had he hurt her? Had he done damage that couldn't be reversed?

  He had never seen anything that couldn't be cured. He thought that Cole just wasn't taking care of his wife properly, or that she preferred to be treated on Earth.

  He had never thought that it would be a problem that couldn't be solved.

  “Ah,” she took a deep breath, her eyes fluttering open. He gently pulled back to show her that he was there. She was still nestled in his arms. “Oh my God.”

  “I hurt you,” he said. “I'm sorry.”

  Peter was a ruthless king from a long line of ruthless kings. However, hurting innocents was not part of his plan.

  “I don't know what happened,” she said. “It hurt for a moment, but then it just felt strange.”

  “I saw into your body,” he said. “The damage you have.”

  “Not so confident now, are you?” she teased him lightly. “I told you.”

  “I've never seen anything like that.”

  “It's rare,” she said. “Dr. Donizetti was very helpful.”

  “We can be helpful,” he said, still unmoving. “I'm sorry.”

  “You didn't mean to hurt me,” she said. “You were trying to help.”

  “I never mean…,” he lost the words and shook his head. She sat back up slowly, leaning against the arm of the chair.

  She waved her hand. “It's okay. Don't worry about it. Do you want to continue?”

  “No.” He was clear on that. “You should rest.”

  “My job is here,” she said. “I have to finish.”

  “There is tomorrow,” he said, standing up. “Come, I will take you to your room.”

  “But–” Yvette wanted to protest that she could finish; she could try. The longer that they waited and the longer that it took, was the longer that she couldn't go home.

  It wasn't that she was treated like a prisoner; it was nothing like that. She was free to come and go within the palace grounds as she pleased. She walked in the gardens, she spoke to the girls, and she saw beautiful sights. But the dragons were under strict orders to not take her home, not even for a visit. Peter had to be ready to take the throne full-time before she could go.

  “Come,” he held out his arm. She got up slowly, slipping her arm into his.

  They got stares as they walked down the hallway. People tried not to stare, but she saw heads turned as they walked to her room. Once at her doorway, Peter withdrew his support.

  “Thank you,” he said for the first time. She nodded, unable to speak because of the lump in her throat. At least if she couldn't be home, and
the homesickness was killing her, he was starting to be kind to her.

  Once she was inside, Peter snapped his fingers to two passing guards. They were probably headed on break, but he didn't care.

  They bowed right away, almost stumbling over each other.

  “Station yourselves outside this door,” he said. “The young girl, Yvette, is not well. If you get even one indication that she is in danger, send for the medical team right away.”

  “Yes, my king,” they said, pushing past each other to go to the door. Peter gave one last glance at the closed marble door, and then headed down the hallway.

  How could there be so many humans with incurable conditions? How had Earth changed so much? How were dragons not as powerful as he thought?

  “Peter,” Alexander found him staring out the window, his hands behind his back. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” Peter said, shaking himself out of his daze. “Can you speak to me in English?”

  “English?” Alexander asked, surprised.

  “I want to practice,” Peter replied. “Practice is what makes us stronger.”

  “Yes,” Alexander switched tongues. “But I think you can understand this in both languages. There are reports that Father might have returned.”

  A pin could have dropped in the room, and both of them would have jumped. Peter forgot his request for English; he forgot everything but the image of his father.

  “What? Where?”

  “Sporadic,” he said. “But possibly on Earth. There's a report in the south that is much more questionable, but on Earth, they are more considerate.”

  Peter stayed silent for a moment.

  “I didn't expect to feel this way at this moment,” Peter said. “I have not seen Father in so long, and I thought I would be happy to hear that he has returned. But your words strike dread into my heart.”

  “Why?” Alexander asked, trying to get him to speak his feelings. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear Peter vocalize it.

  “The progress we've made–the progress that you have made–would be undone.”

  “Yes,” Alexander said. “We have made a lot of choices that Father disagreed with. Never mind that he would dethrone you if he did come back. Do you want that?”

  Peter sighed, turning back to look out the window. “If you asked me a month ago, I would have said ‘yes, of course.’ I do not want this; you know that. And you know you don't want it either. But now, the idea that he would come back now…I'm not sure about it.”

  “Well, should we verify that these rumors are true?” Alexander asked. “After all, it's not the first time that we've had false reports of the others returning before.”

  “Yes,” Peter said. “Whatever resources you need to dedicate to the search,” Peter replied. “Time, money, it means nothing if we can't verify it.”

  “I can get on it,” Alexander replied. “How was your lesson today?”

  “Oh,” Peter ran a hand over his face for a moment. “It was interesting. She is quite ill, Alexander. I felt it today, and I think I hurt her.”

  “How?”

  “Just investigating. I thought it was impossible that we couldn't cure her. And once upon a time, that was true.”

  “The world has changed since you have been away,” Alexander said. “More and more humans are being born with conditions that can be managed. In addition, the stigma attached to mixed-race relationships is much less. Every day, we hear of human-dragon, human-wolf, and other shifter mixing. Look at Cole. Look at Thomas. These are becoming much more normal. The world is more complicated than it was.”

  “Father would be a fish out of water, only being gone a few years,” Peter replied. “Let me know if you find him.”

  “Of course,” Alexander gave him a little head dip, and then headed off. Peter leaned against the windowsill.

  He thought that he couldn't feel anything anymore. But he felt a twinge in his heart today–a twinge of wanting to do more. At the very least, he wanted to make sure a moment like today never happened to poor Yvette again.

  Chapter 7

  “Do you know what the margins are on that?” Nicholas asked Alexander, as they looked at the rents they were collecting from their tenants. As dragon lords, they technically owned the whole kingdom, except for what was delegated to the lesser lords.

  “Well, it's higher than Father's ever were,” Alexander said, his eyebrow raised. “Why?”

  “Because our profits off rents are higher. I checked the accounts,” Nicholas said. “But the amount of properties we are collecting from is low. Father raised the taxes, and you raised them again when you saw the numbers, but you didn't look at what we were collecting from, I think. If we were to lower the taxes, we would have less trouble collecting the rents. So many of them are in hiding, avoiding the high taxes.”

  “Terror is what you are trying to say,” Alexander replied. “Father started a reign of terror, and we unknowingly continued it. Well, you can propose your offer to Peter.”

  There was a silence from Nicholas as he looked at the papers again.

  “Peter is more like Father than you are.”

  “Do not underestimate him, brother,” Alexander replied. “He is changing. He was stuck in hell.”

  “I've heard that the Other was heaven,” Nicholas said softly. “I am afraid to bring this to him. Everything I've brought to him in the last month, he has shot down.”

  “Keep trying,” he said. “Peter can't say no forever.”

  “Perhaps we should shelve this for a while,” Nicholas said. “Until he is more capable.”

  “We cannot wait forever, but I'll leave it up to you. I have a meeting to attend to,” Alexander said.

  “Wonderful,” Nicholas replied, as his brother left the room. The truth was, he never got along with Peter, even as children. “If you could just decide who was king around here, it would make life a little bit easier.”

  “Would it, boy?”

  Nicholas felt shivers go down his spine at that voice. He spun around quickly, his eyes flashing. He was ready to transform, ready to breathe fire. He knew that voice; it sent terror into his very veins.

  But when he spun around, the room was completely empty. His father was nowhere to be found. Nicholas could barely move for a moment, the terror still in his veins. He knew what he heard. He even felt a hint of magic in the room that was reminiscent of his father. But there was nothing.

  “Who's there?” he barked to the empty room. “Show yourself!”

  But there was no answer, as expected.

  Nicholas grabbed the papers on the table, storming out of the room. He didn't want to be alone anymore. Afraid was not something he ever admitted to, but the tyrant that his Father had been was not something he was eager to relive.

  Out in the hallway, Peter and Yvette were seated on side-by-side window ledges, watching the clouds drift by. Yvette had a binder on her lap, although they didn't seem to be paying any attention to it. They were both talking quietly, and Nicholas did not miss the closeness of their hands. He wasn't sure what was brewing between the two of them, but at this moment, he didn't care.

  “What are you two up to?” he asked, switching to English.

  Yvette looked up suddenly, as if they were caught at something.

  “Just learning,” she said, shrinking back against the cool window.

  “What are you doing, Nicholas?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow at his seemingly nervous brother. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

  “Speak English brother,” Nicholas tried to put an easy smile on his face. “Want to go to Earth?”

  “What?” Yvette turned fully at that, practically standing up in one moment. “Earth? Now?”

  “Yes,” Nicholas said. “I have a few errands to run there, a few people to see. I could be your tour guide in a new city.”

  Peter raised an eyebrow.

  “You don't want to be alone on Earth?”

  “Why does everything I do have
to have another motive?” Nicholas asked. “Surely, Alexander cannot object if two of us take Yvette to Earth. She can't escape both of us.”

  “I don't…,” Yvette's voice was quivering. “I wouldn't do that. But I would very much like a visit to Earth. Please.”

  “What do you say, Brother?” Nicholas asked.

  “Alexander is not king,” Peter replied. “If I say she can go, of course she can.”

  “You will come?” Yvette asked him. “It can be a learning opportunity.”

  “On Earth?” Peter asked. “What am I going to learn?”

  “I…” She thought rapidly. “I have a friend who has a birthday coming up. Perhaps I could buy her a present and send it to her? You could learn about malls?”

  “Malls?” he cocked his head.

  “Big places to shop. Like a giant indoor market.”

  “Anything you need can be delivered to the palace,” Peter pointed out. Yvette smiled.

  “I know that. But getting it to her might be a bit difficult.”

  “Come on, brother,” Nicholas said. “I don't want to sit around all day. Let's go.”

  “You are impatient,” Peter finally rose. The truth was, he was enjoying the quiet moment by the windowsill. Yvette had asked for a quiet day, her health failing her today. She was quiet about her problems, but Peter only had to accidentally brush against her to know how bad it was. She was desperate for magic, desperate for healing. However, aside from a touch by accident, she wasn't accepting much help.

  “I thought you just said yes,” Nicholas said, and Peter rolled his eyes.

  “Let's go,” he held his hand out to Yvette. She was the only one who didn't constantly ask him questions about his ruling choices; didn't ask him questions about the throne, or his opinions. She simply flooded him with information and let him figure out things on his own.

  “Shall I bring anything?” Yvette asked.

  “Just yourself,” Nicholas said. “Antechamber this way.”

  “Wait,” Ariel shouted at them, just before they closed the door. “Take me, one of you.”

  Nicholas smiled, holding the door open.