A Dragon’s Witch

by Tina Glasneck

  I kept her safe.

  I would always keep her safe.

  My stomach tightened, and the hairs rose on my arms and the back of my neck. Jaz had to be my priority. With my stake hidden in my boot, I sought its comfort, and gulped down some air. Leif would not be what made me waver, right? I’d been fighting this battle for so long to get to this point. Sure, now would not be a great time to have a physical confrontation, but in a room filled with humans, this could become a bloodbath.

  “Did we really have to dress like this, though?” Ros asked, interrupting my thoughts. My concerns needed to rest below the surface. The best thing to do was to get them all out of here safe and sound, without giving away the obvious threat of danger. They were all too blinded by the vampires’ charm.

  Dressed in our makeshift outfits: me as a punk rocker with pink hair and elfish attire, accompanied by a league of badass heroic women, including Jaz in cheetah print.

  “The thing is, I can’t figure out which brother you are talking about.” Natalie chuckled.

  “There is no question about this. It’s the singer. There is no contest,” Ros cooed.

  “Your affections are misplaced,” I said. Foot meet mouth. She blanched. “Doesn’t matter. We should get going.” I faked a yawn.

  “You know, Belle, I don’t understand your need to pop my bubble. He is, like, totally tubular. I mean, like, what’s your damage?” She stared at me awaiting an answer.

  How was I supposed to tell her that all decisions based on a man’s appearance led to problems? I was there to protect us from the danger brewing. My hair stood on end, and I unconsciously rubbed the back of my neck.

  Love sucks.

  Vampires sucked more.

  And being in love with a vampire is a suckfest, sucky!

  It didn’t just suck; even the search for love would only lead to heartache and potential death. It was what bad love did. It took all your emotions, and then used them against you to make you a feeble fool. I was smart enough to keep my heart sealed. I crossed my arms. This was not fun.

  Sigh.

  But what was freedom when no matter who won, our asses were owned?

  Around all of this stuff, I wanted to take a sledgehammer and smash it to pieces. This journey to the here and now felt like I’d lived a million lives—never to remain, always to be a mystery. Friends started asking questions when you didn’t quite follow the script: courtship, marriage, kids, and death. No, for me, only casual dalliances kept me warm. Everything had to be about the mission, and no one understood it, at least no one had appeared to be my godsend in this time of need.

  Once the war broke out in Thule, well, allies disappeared, and my once-royal life was stripped from me. Now, here I sat made up, pretending to be normal, when I was truly fantastical.

  “You’re wasting your life pining away over this rock star; a book boyfriend would be better,” I said, “but instead, you’re choosing to live vicariously through some musician’s songs.”

  This conflict always happened somewhere during the night, and if it hadn’t been Ros’s birthday, I would have gladly unpacked my stuff at Jaz’s apartment. Imagine living life and only seeing things as the victors wished it to be remembered, but not how it truly transpired.

  “No one understands my fascination, and I can’t explain it, either. He means something to me.”

  I shook my head. “If I can get you an autograph, will you at least let it all go?” I asked with a huff.

  “Why are you letting her get under your skin?” Jaz asked. “You know that’s Leif.”

  I could feel her eyes boring into my back.

  Ros had her life all mapped out. She knew exactly where she wanted to be when she turned twenty-five, how she'd meet Mr. Right during her senior year, and more importantly, how she'd spend her life.

  Me? Not so much. All I knew now was Jaz was my assignment, and I had to keep her safe.

  It would be good when the gods could provide a little more clarity in their runic memos. I mean, seriously, couldn’t they, like, implant holograms or whatnot by now.

  “Someone is having her time of the month again,” Natalie chimed in. She, of course, was also dressed like Cheetah from the Thunder Cats. Oh, how the 1980s cartoons were going to be the bane of my existence. Her blonde wig with black cheetah spots slid forward.

  “Awesome tats,” Natalie said and winked at me.

  I glanced down, and under the white light, where my skin was visible, the tattoos glowed.

  I hurried to cover up.

  “Seems like you have a thing for ink. No, don’t.” Natalie continued, “I don’t think anyone cares about your tattoos.”

  Tattoos? Over the years, after each adventure, marks appeared on my skin, appearing like brands with a puckering of the skin decorated with a white ink. In white ink, they traveled from my wrists up my inner arms, and now down my side. I hid them well, usually, except under black light. Even now, the last vampire’s name itched from the god’s glowing ink.

  "Abele, are you listening?" Jax asked.

  I'd dazed off again, a bad habit to have when friendship was not something you could so quickly take for granted.

  "Yeah, sorry. Just wondering about the runes."

  “Sorry, took so long to get back here. The concession stand is horrible. They are serving food from the 1980s if you taste how stale this stuff is. I have to ask for a manager.” Jaz shoved a thing of popcorn into my hands.

  “Why are you turning up your nose?” Angela asked.

  Angela with her raven-black hair had tagged along. The last time we’d gone together, she’d gotten flashed—full schlong—by the bassist. Penises weren’t always pretty, and this one was more of a grower, I guessed, and not a shower. I shuddered at the memory. There was nothing pruned, just a bushy mess.

  “I’m hoping not to get flashed this time. You seem to have a penis target on your back.”

  “Hey, the last time that happened, he scared me. Looked like something ready to attack.”

  “A snake ready to pounce?”

  “No, more like a worm with the wiggles. He was gross,” I muttered.

  The lights dimmed and loud music started to play.

  Ros patted me on the back, a sign of comfort, “Don’t worry.” She shouted. “One day you’ll see a penis you like, too.”

  Before I could respond, the crowd hooted and hollered and the band took the stage: Reaper & the Grey Masked stepped out, and the instruments spurred to life.

  In a crowd, I needed to stay alert. The threat of Ragnarok or only the gods knew what was always there. The gods wanted to stop the ultimate battle at all costs.

  And there were many, like me, fighting the good fight to keep humanity safe—we were the mediators between the gods and the end of the world—mortal, but immortal through the gods’ happenstance and fickleness. As soon as they were done with us, we’d finally be able to rest.

  A song about love, puppy love, and hot sex began, and the girls sang right along. Love, again?

  A lack of love and connection did this every once in a while. The darkness would sweep in, and all I’d long for was an end to it all.

  Instead of focusing on them or the band, I turned away and stared out at the crowd to make sure there wasn’t any approaching threat. I disregarded the concentrated smell of fresh popcorn, pretzels, and beer.

  "You are totally missing out,” Ros said and pulled at me.

  Suddenly, a guitar solo struck up, and the singer crooned:

  “She was my delight

  She met me in the castle’s corridor

  And put a spell on me on the spot

  Cursed us to love

  Cursed us to never die

  Cursed us to never live.

  A dragon’s witch.”

  My heart hitched, and I gulped.

  I knew his voice, and I needed it out of my head.

  Hmm, maybe today was the day of my destiny. Maybe today was the day I'd get some answers.

  I turned ba
ck toward the stage and stared at the performers, scrutinized them. The glaring lights from above came crashing down right where the singer stood.

  I stared up at him, aqua-blue eyes I’d known for centuries. But today, they seemed even more beautiful than I’d remembered.

  “Leif,” I whispered.

  History. It plowed into me like a tractor trailer, a handsome one at that. I’d lied all those years ago, saying it was another I’d loved, but it had been him, always him. I’d loved him to the tips of my toes, and every nuance of a schoolgirl crush crashed into me, like his gaze unthawed it instantaneously.

  I felt him stare at me, as if he recognized me across the crowded room, like everyone else disappeared, and it was only us in the venue.

  “What’s this song called?” I asked Ros.

  “‘Pieces Fall.’ Isn’t it great?” Ros continued to sing while staring at him. All I’d ever wanted tore at the seams, threatening what I’d built up; I couldn’t stitch this back together. There was no type of thread to make us whole, to mend what had simply been cast aside. I stared at him, this stranger I knew.

  If I closed my eyes, I could reach back to when time meant something. Hidden in the recesses of my chest, something loosened, and I didn’t like it. Instead, thoughts of then would keep me awake, as I wondered about what could have been different.

  But nothing was.

  Tonight, I pasted on my smile, and the memories pulled at me, of a long-forgotten time and place I’d once called home.

  I leaned forward and the scent of honeysuckles wafted through the room. Magic. The guitar strummed and the music lulled all who listened. They rocked back and forth, many moving in sensual and tantalizing dances as Leif’s vampiric cronies moved through the crowd.

  LEIF

  The dimly lit room was perfect. Excitement mixed with adrenaline danced in the air. Leif focused in on what his people needed. They’d always found willing people who’d enjoy their touch, their bite.

  Tonight he expected nothing different.

  And tonight, he wouldn’t hide in the shadows. With their music, he could procure what they needed without the dangers of whatever was causing his numbers to decline. A great gift from a goddess down on her luck.

  On stage, under the glaring lights, Leif watched his men move throughout the crowd to sample tonight’s menu. He’d learned music helped to keep those present in such a placid state. If his men acted like mosquitos, they could sneak in and take a sip without anyone noticing.

  Yet, as he reached out, he felt a blockade. “Shit, Jaz?” His maker was there in the crowd, and his allegiance had to be to her.

  With a hand’s wave and higher pitch, he barked for his men to return to the stage. To risk his maker would be the worst of all things. She gave him life, and he must now protect her at all costs.

  Henney frowned. “What? No appetizer tonight?” he mouthed. His face was still in a partial snarl with his canines ready to pounce. Henney had always been a pain in his backside.

  “My orders are my orders. Not tonight.”

  The others fell in line and again played their instruments, while Henney flexed, and rolled his eyes in annoyance like a petulant teenager.

  “We all have to eat,” Henney spat.

  “Disobey me, and you’ll starve. Do you think this stage will save you from what is happening here? They hear not what we do from the music, but just like those guitar strings are plucked, I can rip off your head and shit down your throat. Are you willing to try to see who is quicker?”

  “You’re just growing weak,” Henney muttered. “Soon we’ll need a new leader if you can’t lead or protect us.”

  “Shut up, Henney,” AJ ordered. “You're a fool. He has ordered us down, and that’s what we are to do.”

  Henney picked up Vincent’s triangle, and got back in line. Leif quirked an eyebrow. His rule wasn’t a democracy but a dictatorship. He led in a brutal fashion. If he let Henney’s ways poison the nest, it could lead to upheaval, dissension. He wouldn’t be blindsided by Henney’s power grab.

  Chapter Six

  TINK

  Magic shouldn’t have worked on me, but something did. I blinked to clear my vision.

  The band stopped playing and a round of applause broke out.

  Thankfully, the party was over. No more watching people bump and grind all over each other. In part, it seemed like a sausage fest, and I’d dodged enough wieners tonight.

  In the back of the room, all I wanted was to get out of there. This was dangerous, at the least. I pulled on Jaz’s arm. We needed to get going. Why would the gods do this to me?

  Even now, I could smell the vampires moving around the room. This wasn’t a handful, but a nest.

  Could this party have been a setup, a meet-cute to make the room run red?

  From my area on the sidelines, I watched the girls dance to the DJ’s rocking music. Eyeing the perimeter, my gaze came to rest on Leif’s debonair form.

  For a moment, I couldn’t look away, and hoped he wouldn’t notice me noticing him.

  I must have been smiling, as Angela snapped her fingers in front of my face and frowned at me. “For one so into the lead singer, I’m surprised you’re so unhappy.”

  “No, he reminds me of someone,” I said and rubbed the back of my neck. “We might as well have a seat. We’re not getting out of here anytime soon with all of these people.”

  As soon as I said that, a big bald man of a bouncer came up, and he had an earpiece in his right ear.

  “I’m looking for a Jaz and Lady Abele,” he said.

  Crap. Crappity crap.

  I raised my hand, and grabbed on to Angela’s hand.

  The man nodded. “If you’ll follow me.”

  “Well, wherever she is going, so are we,” Angela said.

  “Yeah,” Ros and Natalie chimed in.

  It took him a moment, and after speaking into his mic, he nodded his head. “That’s fine. I’ve been sent out to invite you backstage.”

  “Backstage,” Ros squealed. “Oh, my gosh! How is this possible, Belle?”

  Leif, as a vampire, had more than perfect vision. He could see as clearly as an eagle, but in the throng of people, I wasn’t sure how he found me.

  “Did you tell him you were coming tonight?” I whispered into Jaz’s ear. No one in the group knew Leif was a vampire and Jaz was his sire. How things went down between them would set the scene for how they would communicate in the future.

  We followed the bouncer, and the other girls were giddy at the possibility of being invited backstage.

  Of course they didn’t know the supernatural existed, and I could hope that my charges weren’t about to be bled out, or that I’d have to try to incinerate the Vampire that still made my heart go piddy-paddy-pat.

  Backstage overflowed with vamps. It wasn’t just the band. The way this was, it was cast and crew.

  The further we moved through the maze of corridors, the louder the music and voices grew. There were tons of women back here, in an array of sparkly outfits, fish netting, and wild hair.

  They all lined up waiting for a chance to be snacked on, I guessed.

  Finally, we neared the door, and the sweet aroma of magic smacked me in the face. I grabbed Jaz’s hand, and felt the magic wrap around her.

  “You can calm down. He’s not going to do anything to me,” she whispered.

  “He might not, but there are others with him.”

  She was my charge, and special to the gods. Vampires liked magic, and many liked to feast on it.

  The bouncer knocked on a door with a large star taped to it. “Here they are, sir” he said, bowed, and allowed us to pass.

  “Leif,” Jaz called out, and Leif bowed to her, rose to his towering six-foot-four height and hugged and kissed Jaz on each cheek.

  “Mother,” he said. Mother, even in Old Norse, the word was filled with respect, admiration, and love—and considering their history, I was shocked. Not too long ago, he’d been out to kill her. But now,
he enjoyed the link they had. “Are we still on for dinner on Sunday?”

  “Lady Abele,” Leif said, and I automatically curtsied, as he placed a chaste kiss on my hand. “You look more beautiful than ever.”

  He wasn’t the only vampire alive, but his power radiated around him like a bright sun. His lineage was pure, direct from a dragon, and therefore not watered down.

  “Whoa!” I heard the others say.

  I hated myself. I hated him. I hated that for so many nights I’d pretended something like this might happen, and he might find me.

  “Ladies, welcome backstage. Would you like to chill with us tonight?” Leif asked.

  He stood there and towered over me with his six feet four inches: tall, athletic, and chiseled. Kissable lips and his brownish-red hair perfectly styled. His shirt was opened down to the waist, and his leather pants highlighted everything perfectly. His hair was ridiculously 80s styled, and on each wrist, he wore spiked leather armbands.

  “I don’t know if this is a good idea,” I warned.

  “Nothing can go wrong. They are under my protection,” he responded.

  Something would always go wrong.

  Something within me tugged and remembered.

  I didn’t need to suffer from “time” wanderlust, where rules made sense, and where I knew what all of this could have meant.

  “Is there anywhere we can discuss things?”

  “I’m not going anywhere quite yet,” Angela said. “You two know each other? You called her Lady Abele?”

  I’d not been called “Lady” in over five-hundred years, but this was not the place to reveal the truth.

  I wasn’t sure why he was there, but in all of my years, we’d never been at the same place at the same time—none of us, unless something was up—something terrible was about to happen.

  “Yes, this is my ex-boyfriend—”

  “Brother,” Leif spat.

  “He’s my ex-boyfriend’s brother,” I said. I could feel my cheeks warming at my lie, and as I watched Angela’s hazel eyes narrow, I realized she saw it, too.