Dragon's Choice

by Juniper Hart

  Her mind raced through what he could possibly have been, but she couldn’t pinpoint it. She didn’t remember seeing sharp claws, long protruding fangs, or anything else out of the ordinary about his looks. The only thing she could remember were those piercing blue eyes and his colossal strength.

  It wasn’t until she slammed her apartment door shut that her feet finally slowed, and she dropped back against the hard wood, panting from her strenuous exertion. She hadn’t run like that, in well, ever, and she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure that her quick escape had to do with her own natural instincts to survive. Something about her running abilities was not quite right. It felt as if she hadn’t been in complete control of herself. All she remembered were the last words the stranger had said to her, and suddenly she found herself looking back over her shoulder, as though the reflex to do so had been delayed by something more powerful.

  “It can’t be,” she told herself, shaking her head though she wasn’t at all sure. She thought of the folklore everybody hears about where creatures can take control of human minds or manipulate them into doing something they wouldn’t normally do. “No! It’s not true!” she couldn’t allow herself to believe it. But that couldn’t be real, could it? She could think of no other explanation for what she had just witnessed in the alleyway.

  Shrugging out of her jacket, she reached into the pocket, only to realize that the phone she was looking for was not there. Her heart sunk as she remembered how she’d been forced to empty her pockets onto the floor. A smile spread across her face as she remembered how she’d planted her knee in the face of the man who’d bent down to pick it up.

  Lucy crossed her small apartment to the bathroom and stopped in front of the mirror to take in the sight before her. Her blonde hair was lank, plastered to her head with a layer of sweat, possibly from her run or maybe from the nauseous feeling that wasn’t going away. Her green eyes were dulled from lack of sleep, and dark bags hung beneath them. Brownish red smears covered the lower half of her face, and she couldn’t figure out what she was seeing in the mirror. The realization quickly came to her; the stranger’s bloodied hand had covered her mouth.

  Lucy quickly turned on the faucet, scrubbed soap over her face, and rinsed with the hottest water she could tolerate. The metallic scent of blood still lingered in her nostrils long after she’d washed away its remnants. The water scalded her hands and face, though she didn’t care. After scrubbing and rinsing several more times, she still didn’t feel clean.

  Part of her knew that feeling clean after what she’d witnessed was impossible. She’d never feel the same again.

  Drenched in sweat and covered with dirt, Lucy stripped from her clothes and threw them in the garbage. She turned on the shower and stepped into the downpour of hot water. It could have been hours or just a few minutes. She’d lost track of time. Trying to block out everything that just happened, Lucy tried to focus on the warm beads of water trickling down her body, washing away the grunge. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes and allowed the water to wash over her face.

  6

  Erik

  Erik's heart sank down into his boots. He'd found him. Not only that, but he'd found him with a woman—a woman whose life he'd just saved. A woman who he’d grown to care about while watching her from afar.

  Erik wanted to race after her, grab hold of her and force her back into the shadows, when a loud buzzing sound filled his overly sensitive ears. Wincing at the harsh noise, he glanced down the alleyway to see the screen of a cell phone lighting up from where it had fallen onto the cobbles.

  Zipping over, he crouched to pick up the device and pressed the lock button to silence it. He thought back and remembered how the woman had dropped it from her pocket when the men had first attacked her—the men who were now spread all around him. The scent of blood coming from his victims was overwhelming. Fangs pierced his gums.

  He shoved the phone into his pocket before dropping to his knees, beside his nearest victim. Picking up the man, Erik pulled the body onto his lap and wrapped his mouth around his neck. As soon as his fangs pierced the skin, the blood started to flow into his mouth. It was already growing cold, the taste of death already lacing his tongue, yet he forced the blood down, attempting not to gag. He needed his strength if he was going to face the source of the scent that still lingered in his nostrils like a bad omen.

  First, he needed to cover his tracks. That meant getting rid of the bodies of the three men he'd just killed. As soon as he'd drained all three, he piled them into the huge double dumpster further down the alleyway. Each one was heavier than the last, though he had no trouble hiking them over his shoulder and dropping them in.

  Once the three were piled on top of each other, face down in the garbage, he reached into his jeans’ pocket and pulled out his Zippo lighter. Flicking it open, he sparked the flame and threw it into the dumpster. The top man's flannel shirt caught instantly and the smell of burning flesh soon filled the air all around him.

  Straightening his jacket, he stepped out of the alleyway, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth to remove any traces of blood from his feed. Then he lifted his nose to the air and inhaled deeply in an attempt to pick up the fresh scent of the woman he'd already saved once that night. He had a feeling that before the sun rose, he was going to have to do it again.

  Her phone buzzed in his pocket, and he ignored it again as he began to race in the direction her scent led, all too aware that it was laced with that of another, someone who wanted to cause him pain. Taking the life of an innocent because of him would be enough pain, but she would not be the first, and certainly not the last.

  7

  Lucy

  Those brilliant blue eyes stared at her from the shadows. Though she could not see him, she could see his eyes glowing. Knowing it was him, the monster who had killed three people to save her from a fate worse than death, she felt oddly happy to see him.

  As he stepped out of the shadows at the edge of the room, her heart thundered rapidly in her chest. He walked towards her at an agonizingly slow pace.

  He was much slower than he had been in the alleyway, yet he moved with the smooth stealth of a feline. His eyes anchored her from movement as she reclined on the soft mountain of pillows that covered the bed. Red silk sheets caressed her bare skin and were the only thing that covered her modesty. The man stepped up to the foot of the bed.

  When he reached forward and tightened a handful of sheets into his fist, she knew exactly what he was going to do, but she didn’t scream. Instead, she bit her lip, her hunger for him palpable as she watched his eyes drink in her smooth pale skin and luscious curves, the curves she had once tried to hide with baggy clothes and oversized sweatshirts. Now she felt like a goddess as his eyes worshipped every inch of her body. He looked her up and down, from head to toe, before slipping into the bed.

  His bare body slid its way up hers before his lips came down to possess her lips. She breathed a sigh as his tongue brushed her mouth, and she opened her lips to allow her own to meet his. His kiss was cold and took her breath away, like the first winds of winter that tingled one’s nose and refreshed the senses. It was a kiss of such passion and danger that it sent Lucy’s head spinning as he forced her back into the pillows. Their chests connected, and she felt her heart race as his body pinned her to the mattress. His muscular body felt rock hard beneath her hands as she brought them up to run over his taught, muscular body.

  A low rumble erupted from his throat, much like the sound she had heard back in the alleyway. This time, it didn’t scare her, but had the opposite effect. It made her want to hear it again. With that thought, she dug her fingernails into his flesh and dragged them back down his ribs. He deep, rumbling sound again, and her entire body shivered with delight.

  He pulled his face back from hers, and their gaze met. The hunger present in his eyes was filled with raw passion and desire. It startled her, and her body froze. He grinned. Something gleamed behind his lips, but Lucy didn’t
have time to react before her lunged forward. A sharp pain burned in her neck and she screamed. The paralyzing sensation was gone, and suddenly she wriggled beneath him, pounding her fists against his chest helplessly as he held her against the mattress.

  Lucy bolted upright in bed. Her heart thundered so rapidly against her ribcage that she felt like it was going to rip free of her chest. She panted for breath as her hand flew to her throat. There was nothing but the rough texture of scabs that began to form where her attacker had held the knife to her throat earlier that night.

  As her eyes blinked and adjusted to the darkness of the room, she was almost sure she could see a figure standing at the bottom of the bed. Hurriedly, she leaned over and flicked on the lamp that was set on the bedside table. As soon as light illuminated the room, she turned her attention to the foot of the bed again. To her relief, nothing was there.

  Inhaling deeply, she steadied her breath in the hopes that her heart would follow suit. Reaching up, she wiped her forehead with the palm of her hand, only for it to come away dripping with sweat.

  “God damn it,” she snapped at herself, as she pushed back the covers and clambered out of the bed. Am I ill or something? It was the only explanation she had for the events that just took place.

  “Maybe I never woke up this morning?” she said out loud as she headed for the bathroom. Maybe I’m really lying in bed hallucinating everything that happened? Maybe it’s a dream? Yet, when she pinched her arm in the hopes she would wake, nothing happened but a stinging pain in her skin.

  With a sigh, she turned on the faucet and waited for the water to run cold before splashing it all over her face. It did little to cool her feverish skin, but it helped to wash away some of the sweat.

  Too agitated to climb back into bed, she turned off the tap, slipped on a robe, and walked back through the bedroom to the window that led out onto the metal fire exit steps. A sudden sensation overwhelmed her as she drew closer to the glass. It was a sensation she frequently felt, but had become stronger since leaving the bar. It was the familiar burning of being watched, yet she had no idea where it was coming from. No one was close by. She lived on the fifth floor, on her own. Nobody else even had a key to her apartment.

  You’ve been working yourself too hard, she thought, making up even more excuses as she reached down and took hold of the window to pull it up. When it clicked into place, she swept herself under the now open window and out onto the metal grate balcony. Sitting down on the windowsill, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes as the cold air of night washed over her.

  No matter how hard she tried, she could not push away the feeling of being watched, and eventually she found herself gazing around in the hopes of finding someone she could yell at to leave her alone. Nobody was there.

  8

  Erik

  After following her home many nights to silently watch over her, Erik knew where Lucy was headed. He just hoped he could get to her first. The sweet scent—a medley of lavender and vanilla—that hummed off her was a unique, and he knew his enemy would be able to find her with little effort. He reached the five-story building, and briefly felt relieved, but that feeling was short-lived.

  A flash out of the corner of his eye told him what he already knew. Somebody else had beaten him there. Following the black flash that streaked from the roof of the next building, Erik’s eyes landed on the one person he’d hoped to never see again.

  He had to get to her first. He couldn’t bear to think what would happen to her if he didn’t. Running at top speed, he began to zip up the fire escape before his nemesis saw her through a crack in the curtains, a hole in the blinds, or maybe even caught a fresh whiff of her scent.

  Finally, he reached the second window of the fifth floor and saw her. Her blonde hair billowing over the pillows as she tossed and turned. He could hear a soft whimpering escaping her lips, even though a thick double-gazed window stood between them. He fought the urge to wake her as he reached down and gently opened the window.

  Slipping inside, he carefully dropped the window back into place and turned to gaze down at the sleeping woman. Still, she wriggled as though she was having a bad dream, and Erik knew that he was to blame for that, too. There was only one reason humans had bad dreams, and that was the stress of something they’d experienced. His murderous rampage in the alleyway was enough to send most humans into hysterical fits of hyperventilation, yet this human reacted differently. She had thanked him. It made his feelings for her even stronger. It was as if she could see his good intentions and past his monstrous exterior.

  The clicking sound of another window opening alerted him that they were no longer alone in the apartment. He had to force down fury that raged from within as the woman abruptly awoke and sat upright. Her green eyes flashed with fear for a moment. Erik didn’t hang around. He rushed for the open bedroom door and was stopped in his tracks when he saw the shadow that had followed him for centuries.

  “Stephen,” he scowled, as he looked into the dark, twisted eyes of the man who stood before him.

  “Erik,” the man said in a voice filled with malice. Though they whispered, each could hear the other clearly.

  “I thought we were through with this?” Erik asked, his voice still low to avoid alerting the woman to their presence.

  “You thought wrong,” Stephen replied, and the angry burn of his eyes was enough to tell Erik what he already knew deep down, it would never be done. “We won’t be finished until you feel the pain you’ve inflicted on me.”

  “Stephen, it was three centuries ago,” Erik tried to keep himself calm. “You can’t keep killing innocents for something that happened so long ago. And, it wasn’t my fault.”

  “You’re wrong,” Stephen’s voice rose and octave. “I feel the pain again every evening. Every time I wake in the darkness alone, as the monster you made me!”

  “You begged me to do it!” Erik reasoned. “You wanted me to do it.”

  “And that makes it alright? I was so young! I didn’t know what I was asking for.”

  “Young? You were twenty-five years old. You had seen enough in the world to make your own decisions. I can’t change that. What can I do to make it up to you?” Erik asked, already knowing that nothing could be done to bring back what he had taken from the man who stood before him. Like himself, Stephen was dark-haired, and his skin gleamed with the paleness of avoiding the sun for centuries. Stephen’s eyes were much darker, almost the color of slate, and he stood several inches shorter than Erik.

  Stephen glared at Erik as though he wanted to rip his heart out. Yet Erik knew he would never do such a thing. That would end everything; Stephen’s revenge would be over. Erik half-wished it would happen that way. It would be simpler, at least for him, but that was selfish.

  “Get out of my way, but be sure to keep your eyes open when I drain her of every last drop of blood,” Stephen’s voice was a hiss as he spoke. Erik shuttered at the coldness in his tone. “You care about her, don’t you? I see it in your eyes. Her blood will taste even sweeter, knowing that draining her life will make you suffer.”

  “I can’t let you do that, Stephen, and you know it,” Erik shook his head; he was tired and fed up of the centuries of fighting. He straightened up to his full height to block the doorway behind him.

  “Are you challenging me? What fun,” Stephen said mockingly. “You know I won’t kill you, but I will get my hands on her. That I promise you.”

  “Not while I’m around,” Erik vowed.

  “Isn’t that what you said about Rachel?” Stephen smirked as Erik’s cold dead heart twisted in what would have been heartache, had he been a living, breathing human. The image of a beautiful raven-haired woman flashed in his mind’s eye, and his anger blazed. His fangs pricked his gums, and his age-old hunger tempted him once again. The scent of fresh blood wafted from the bedroom door behind him as he heard the woman’s footsteps crossing the room in the direction of the window Erik had used to climb in.

  �
�You can’t catch her every second of the day,” Stephen said loudly, and Erik hoped the woman didn’t hear him. “I’ll get to her eventually. You might as well just sit back and relax to make this easier. Don’t worry, I will make it quick.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Erik asked. “You like the chase; you like the suspense.”

  “And I will like seeing the guilt and pain on your face even more when you realize another innocent woman is dead because of you!”

  The sound of the window opening made Erik look around. He turned just in time to see the woman push open the window and climb out. Erik panicked. She was completely exposed to Stephen.

  Erik turned to face Stephen, but he was already gone.

  9

  Lucy

  The sensation grew until she could take it no longer. Her heart thundered as she pushed herself up onto her bare feet and moved to the railing. The metal was cold as she held on to it and leaned over to look down into the alleyway below.

  “Hello?” she yelled loudly, in the hopes that whomever was watching her wouldn’t hear the fear in her voice. “Is somebody there?” she hoped she’d be able to handle whatever answer she received.

  Nothing happened. Nobody answered. She felt as though she was going crazy, staring down into the alleyway in the middle of the night like a lunatic.

  Then it happened. Nothing had ever scared Lucy more than when those ice-cold fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist. The jerking motion that brought her backwards through the window was enough to send pain shooting through her arm.

  She screamed out until she felt a hand clamp over her mouth. An oddly familiar scent washed over her as she dropped down onto the carpet. Her back was held firmly against the muscular chest of whomever grabbed her.