The Ruby Blade

by Amy Cissell

  Eleanor. That’s what’d woken him up. He’d been dreaming of her like he did most nights. The memory of her touch, her laugh, her power controlling his wolf; that’s what was keeping him sane—or at least sane-ish—so far. Something in his dreams. Pain! He growled. Who would hurt her? And then he felt her through their mate bond. Pleasure. Overwhelming pleasure. He’d felt this from her before when they’d made love after their mating. She was close to orgasm with someone else.

  Isaac growled again. She was his! He pulled against his chains until they threatened to cut off his circulation and draw blood. The silver burned into his wrists and ankles and he howled in pain and betrayal and frustration.

  The pleasure he was receiving through the bond with Eleanor slowly backed off and was replaced with a dull ache. She’d been fed from. She’d let a vampire drink from her neck.

  You told her to, he told himself. You said it was okay.

  She didn’t wait very long, his inner voice answered.

  Why should she? You left her.

  There was no way he was going to win this argument, he decided. Best to just concentrate on Eleanor. Even if she was finding pleasure with someone else, at least he could feel a little bit of that himself. It helped offset the hopeless agony. Not much, but tonight, it might be enough.

  “Isaac?” the voice was tentative.

  “Eleanor?” he replied, even knowing it was a dream.

  “I think it’s a true dream,” Eleanor said, and she appeared out of the mist to stand in front of him. “Are you okay?”

  Before he could answer, she answered herself. “No, of course you’re not okay. I shouldn’t have asked. Why am I here?” she looked around at the bars and the chains. “Was it worth it? Is this worth it?”

  “Is she okay?” he asked, voice breaking a bit.

  “She’s a pain in the ass, and I don’t know what you ever saw in her, but she’s okay.”

  Isaac released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding and felt his shoulders slump in relief.

  “When you spoke of her, you never said how much she meant to you, or how long you’d been together. You let me believe she was a passing fancy.”

  “I never said that. I was willing to sacrifice myself for her then, why would you think she meant nothing to me?”

  Eleanor sighed. “I made assumptions. I believed that because I’d never really loved before, neither had you. I was naive.”

  “I’d never loved anyone the way I loved you.”

  “Loved?” hurt flooded her eyes.

  “Why does it hurt you that I say “loved” when you never felt for me what I felt for you.”

  She deflated. “I haven’t the right to be hurt.”

  “Of course you do. We went through the mating ceremony, something I’d not done with anyone else.”

  “You were going to with Emma, though, weren’t you?”

  He nodded once to confirm.

  “Isaac? Did you give me the ring you bought for her?”

  He didn’t answer, which was the only response she needed. He held out his arms, and she walked into them. “Princess, take your pleasure with the vampire. Let him love you and let yourself love him. I’ll still be here.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “I think I could fall in love with him.”

  “You always were,” he answered.

  “What if…”

  “No.” He silenced her with a quick, hard kiss. “No what ifs. I will see you again if I stay alive, but I will not ask you to hold on to that hope. You deserve to be happy, and I don’t know if I was ever the man who could give you that happiness.”

  “I’m waking up,” Eleanor said.

  “Go then. I love you.”

  She faded from view and Isaac watched her go, knowing he’d probably lost her forever.

  Chapter Five

  WE GOT SETTLED in the room. I wondered if I’d get the bed to myself or if I’d have to share with Werewolf Barbie. I wouldn’t mind sharing with Florence. We were besties, after all. Florence shot me a look out of the corner of her eye, and I couldn’t decide if she was amused or irritated. I decided to go with amused. I was amused, and since I was the only royalty in the room, it made sense that my opinion on the matter was the most important. The look she shot me that time was definitely amused. I’m a pro at reading expressions.

  “I’ll sleep on the floor,” Emma announced.

  “That’s not necessary,” I said. “I don’t mind sharing a bed.”

  “I’m not sharing with you.” I had no trouble at that moment imagining her as a wolf. That was about as snarly as a girl could get.

  I smiled as sweetly as I could. “I wasn’t offering to share with you. I can share with Florence.”

  “I don’t know,” Florence said. “You look like the handsy sort.”

  “Oh, I’m a cuddler for sure. But you know you like it.” Florence’s laughter was interrupted by a knock on the door. I drew my sword and cautiously opened the door. A strapping lumberjack-type was standing in the doorway, looking much too sullen for a grown-ass man, and holding an enormous dinner tray and a few bags.

  “Your dinner.” He attempted to push his way past me, but I didn’t want the Pack’s errand boy to dominate me in my sleeping space, so I held my ground.

  “Would you like to come in?” I looked up at him, trying to make eye contact.

  His gaze traveled to my face, and he registered me as an individual and not just some stranger to whom he had to deliver food. I’m not sure what he saw when he looked down into my eyes from his more than considerable height—were all shifters built like giants?—but whatever it was caused him to pale and bow slightly.

  “My apologies. I have your dinner. May I bring it inside?”

  I backed out of the way. “Of course. Thank you. What name should I call you?”

  “William, ma’am.” I was proud of myself when my valiant efforts to let the ‘ma’am’ go paid off and no one died. “I run the restaurant in town. You’ll either see me or my assistant John for all your meal deliveries. I have a message for the mage, too.” He pulled a roll of paper from one of the pockets in his voluminous overcoat and handed it to Florence.

  “We appreciate the dinner, William, and look forward to getting to know our hosts better.”

  He bowed his way out of the room, and I went to inspect the food: T-bones, baked potatoes, and a cabbage slaw. There was also a bottle of wine and a crusty loaf of bread in the first two bags I opened. I ripped off a hunk of bread, shoved it in my mouth, and said, “We are never leaving this place.”

  “You are disgusting,” Emma said, wrinkling her nose.

  “She speaks true,” Florence agreed.

  “What’s in the letter?”

  Florence untied the string that bound the scroll and unrolled it. I took a minute to appreciate that instead of an email or text message, Florence had just received a motherfucking scroll. I missed Google, but there were definite upsides. Scrolls being the only one I’d cataloged so far, but still. Perks.

  “It’s directions and further instructions.”

  “Are you going to tell me what service you agreed to perform to use this as our base of operations?”

  Florence opened her food tray, retrieved the included flatware and cloth napkin, and cut into her steak. “There’s a group of supernaturals about an hour northeast of here that have taken over the Delaware National Recreation Area—the place where the pack usually hunts and runs at the full moon and any other time they need to get furry and chase down bunnies. They’ve asked us to clear it out.”

  “Uhhh, how about we go stay somewhere else, and they take care of their own crazy trespassers? I mean, this steak is good—a little over-cooked for my taste, which seems weird for people who eat their food raw and wiggly—but not worth a pitched battle for someone else’s land.”

  “They did offer more.”

  “I would hope so. Swedish massages with happy endings by their most attractive pack members, Taco Bell for
life, and an espresso machine that runs on magic beans would be a good place to start.”

  “They offered protection up to and during the opening and to allow Emma to run with them during the full moon.”

  My shoulders slumped in defeat—or possibly hunger. I polished off my dinner, poured another glass of wine for everyone, and then opened the last bag.

  “There’s a chocolate cheesecake in here,” I said. “I don’t care how many kids are walking on their lawn. I’m in.”

  “What further instructions did they provide?” Emma asked.

  “A rough accounting of who they think is in the preserve.”

  “And?” Emma asked. She’d barely picked at her steak and potatoes, had eaten all the cabbage—glad I wasn’t sharing a bed with her—and was studiously ignoring the cheesecake.

  “Emma? Don’t shifters have to eat a lot to maintain their energy?”

  “It’s not very ladylike to stuff your face at every opportunity.”

  “We’ve already had this discussion, haven’t we? Maybe it’s not ladylike, but since I prefer strong, energetic, and alive to ladylike, I’ll just keep eating when I’m hungry. I suggest you do the same.”

  “Oh, I’m fine,” she started to say before the growling of her stomach drowned out whatever else she was going to say. She glared at me like I’d somehow engineered it, and then ripped off a hunk of bread and started chewing.

  “Emma, no one is going to judge you for eating. You should worry more about taking care of yourself and less about fitting into outdated gender stereotypes that never should’ve applied to you anyway. You’re a werewolf. Act like one.” I turned my back on her so she could devour the rest of her meal in relative privacy. “Florence, what are we in for?”

  “The best guess of the scout team is that the preserve is held by a vampire clan who’s employed a coven of mages to act as security.”

  “Huh. Any guesses as to how many vamps?”

  “A couple dozen is their best guess.”

  “So, two dozen vampires, a baker’s dozen of mages, and whatever functioning blood servants they have lying about. I would like to call a vote.”

  Florence cocked her head and looked at me as she took another bite of her dinner.

  “I would like to put forth a motion that, if at all possible, we wait for Raj to rejoin us after his unscheduled walkabout before we tackled the horror show in the woods.”

  “I would second that motion,” Florence said.

  “All in favor?” I called out.

  “Aye!” Florence and I said in unison.

  “All opposed?”

  Silence.

  “Florence, please note in the minutes that Emma abstained. Okay, motion carried. We’ll wait for Raj before clearing the woods. In the meantime, we’ll all get fat and happy on this food.”

  Part of the deal Florence had worked out with the pack was unlimited use of the local gym. I wasn’t sure why a pack needed a gym—in my head, they were all cardio nuts, running on four legs in the woods—but I guess a few of them lifted weights to keep their intimidating bulk extra intimidating.

  The main arena, which was primarily utilized as a basketball court, was easily the size of two regular basketball courts and the ceiling was a good three stories up. When Florence wasn’t using me as a training dummy for Emma’s crash course in hand-to-hand self-defense, I spent every moment possible as a dragon, honing my fine motor control and doing short, low flights.

  The gym was barely big enough for me to stretch my wings and get above the ground, but it was well-heated, and that was about as much as I could ask for at this point. It also gave me some excellent opportunities to practice my coordination and moving in tight spaces, two things that I wasn’t very good at, even when I was a human and not the giant, flying reptile version of a toddler learning to walk.

  After a couple hours of what Florence deemed ‘play’ and I preferred to call ‘really fucking hard work,’ I was sweating and panting. Or at least, I would’ve been if I were in my human form. Turns out reptiles neither sweat nor pant, they just wish they could. Presumably. I guess I can’t speak for all reptiles. Maybe it’s just shifters that wish they could because they’ve had the pleasure of both.

  “Enough rest,” Florence barked. “Eleanor, back in the air. Emma, shift and try to take her down. Do not hold back.”

  Emma had shed her clothes and started her shift before I even registered what Florence had said. Holy shit, that woman was fast. I shuddered in awe to think how amazing she’d have been by now if she hadn’t spent the last half-century locked up by an insane vampire. My admiration quickly dissipated when I realized she was taking the last part of Florence’s instructions to heart and not holding back. I executed a clumsy half-hop backwards and managed to barely steer clear of her jaws. Her tongue lolled out, and I had the sneaking suspicion she was laughing at me.

  I wondered if the ‘don’t hold back’ instruction applied to me as well. I jumped to give myself a bit of lift without hitting the ceiling—something I’d done more than once already today—and looked down at Florence. She was sitting on the small bleachers and smiling at me serenely. I cocked my head and looked at her, missing Emma’s flying leap that resulted in her landing on my back.

  Teeth tried to sink into my scaly hide, and I shook until her claws lost purchase and she tumbled to the ground. She was on her feet again in a moment, but instead of making another fruitless leap, she circled me slowly trying to find a weakness. If I was interested in harming her or burning down the gym, I could fry her before she figured out my major weakness. Well, my second major weakness, cold being the first. I didn’t think there was a third, although since I’d only been a dragon for less than half a year, it’s possible that once I got started identifying weaknesses, it’d turn into a Python sketch.

  I shook my head, decided that Florence likely wanted me to remain on defense and not incinerate the werewolf, so I concentrated on staying out of her reach. Moments later, that plan went out the window when I saw her gaze lock onto my delicate wings. She corrected herself moments later and tried to act wolfishly nonchalant, but I was ready for her. Defense time was over. It was time to take her down.

  When she took a running leap, ostensibly aiming for my throat—dammit, that was my third weakness! This was just like the Spanish Inquisition—I was ready for her last-minute shift in direction.

  She changed her aim mid-air, and I was once again left in awe of her power and grace, especially under the circumstances. This time, however, I didn’t let that affect my fighting prowess. I brought my wings down as quickly as I could, which was pretty damn quick, then flung them outwards again, catching her in the snout with one of my finger-claws fist-things. I really needed to get a book on dragon anatomy, so I knew what to call my various parts.

  Emma was flung backwards, and before she could get up and make another attack, I landed on top of her and sat. I did so gently, but firmly, and she was immobilized. I looked over at Florence and let my mouth drop open, hoping my gaping maw and darting tongue would convey my amusement.

  “Get off her, Eleanor,” Florence said. I wiggled my backside a bit, trying to make myself more comfortable on my shaggy werewolf seat. Florence’s gaze pierced through my amusement, though, and I slowly lumbered my way off Emma. I hadn’t gone more than a couple steps when I felt more than heard something move behind me. I pulled my wings in tight and whipped my tail around. I felt it connect with something solid and the sound of claws scraping on the gym floor confirmed that it was Emma who’d been making a last-ditch effort to attack from behind.

  There was a soft whump when her body hit a wall and I took another moment to mentally pat myself on the back in satisfaction. I’ll admit it. I was feeling more than a little smug. My jaw gaped again as I smiled my cheery dragon smile.

  Before I’d had a chance to enjoy my smugitude for more than a couple moments, I was caught in an icy cyclone. Snow and sleet battered my body and I could feel myself starting to shut
down against the sudden onslaught of cold. I tried to keep my eyes open and my brain working long enough to devise a plan to combat Florence’s ice-mage skills, but she’d caught me by surprise and torpor set in before it occurred to me that this would be an excellent time to use a little fire. I struggled to build up enough heat to blast her with a fireball, but didn’t manage to anything but belch a pathetic wisp of smoke.

  Fuck.

  I sank down and curled myself into a ball, trying to keep as much of me as possible out of the way of Florence’s ice storm. My eyes drifted closed and I didn’t have the energy to open them again. Just before I drifted off, I thought I should’ve at least shifted back. I could’ve combatted this magic in my human form. Motherfucker.

  “Wake up!” Emma’s voice was too close to my aural receptors and my head jerked up, catching her on the chin.

  I shook the last vestiges of the melting ice off me and shifted back to my human form. I rose to my feet, and arms akimbo glared at Florence. “That was cruel.”

  “You need to be better prepared,” she said. “You forgot that I was a threat, too, and dropped your guard. Smugness is a terrible trait, even when not in a fight, but it can be deadly if you underestimate your enemy.”

  I sighed. I hated it when she was right. “Point taken. I’ll do better next time.”

  Florence cocked her head to one side then looked at the two naked women—Emma had obviously shifted back during my nap—and said, “You two should get dressed. The wolves are coming.”

  Emma was dressed before I’d even registered what Florence had said. I wasn’t as modest as Emma, but I still wasn’t interested in being peeped at by strange shifters. You never knew when you were going to run into a jerk who thought a glimpse of boob meant you were coming on to him. Always better to err on the side of caution. Which is a life lesson I should really take to heart, considering how many naked confrontations I’d had over the last few months.

  A couple minutes after I dressed and Florence had somehow magically erased all signs of her ice storm, I heard heavy footsteps approaching. They were making no effort to be quiet—something I was sure they could all do with ease—which meant they wanted us to be intimidated. I rolled my eyes and smirked.