by Riley Storm
She arrived at the destination with ten minutes to spare.
“Well, this just makes too much sense,” she muttered as she exited the car, staring at the ruined remains of a building.
The destruction was recent though. The building, the former broadcast center for Five Peaks, had been the center of the final whirlwind battle between the dragons and their enemy, the rogue government agency that had descended on Five Peaks two months earlier.
It was here, she knew, that the entire world had witnessed the reveal of the dragons. It was this building where they had shown everyone that they existed. It was here that Pietro’s kind had fought for their right to exist.
Much of the world had replied with a resounding agreement, rising up to defend the dragons, to encourage governments to let them exist. Thousands more had descended upon Five Peaks in the wake of the announcement with hopes of seeing a dragon themselves.
It was also where the Agency had come to try and kill the dragon who dared to speak up about them. Claire only had secondhand knowledge of the battle. She’d never asked Pietro about it, but the destruction showed the true power of the dragons when unleashed.
Much of the building was perched atop a jutting rock a hundred feet or more in diameter, brought up from the earth by a dragon. The rest of it had fallen at the base of the new rise, crumbling into pieces, where it still lay.
Fences had been erected around the building, but Claire found her way through the obstacles with ease. She was clearly not the first person to do so and, judging by the way a path had been worked through the debris, quite a few people had come to the site.
“I’m here,” she said as she strode among the rubble. “Where are you?”
“Hello, Claire.”
She lifted her head skyward, finding the preacher in the ruins of the building above her, holding a candle in one hand.
“Ascend, my child, and receive your salvation.”
“I can’t fly,” she muttered just loud enough for him to hear her.
“Unnecessary. Aro here will help.”
Shadows moved at her side, and Claire stifled a scream as a vampire casually picked her up and in one bound leapt up into the exposed side of the crumbling building.
It set her down, and she jerked away from it, moving deeper into the building. More shadows moved, and with barely a whisper, another vampire moved past her. Claire yelped. She hadn’t even known it was there.
The two creatures moved to stand next to one another, their movements creepily similar to one another. They had to be bonded. Pietro had called that one correctly. She just hoped that everything else he’d thought it meant would apply.
“Okay,” she said as the preacher started walking back from the ledge toward her, the candle blowing wildly with the slight breeze making its way through the ruined building. “I’m here. Show me my parents and let them go. I did as you wanted. Now prove to me you’re a holy man, one whose word can be trusted, and not a heretic or blasphemer.”
Claire had chosen her words in advance, selecting them specifically to try and force him to act the way she wanted.
“My child. I am a man of God. My word is my bond. Once you have submitted, as per our agreement, they go free.”
“No,” she said stubbornly, crossing her arms, careful not to put too much pressure on her left side. “You let them go now, or I don’t submit.”
“My child…”
“No,” she said harshly. “I proved that I am willing to come here. You have yet to do anything to show your word is worth anything. Only I’ve done that. Will you let a supposed Satan-spawn lover be more trustworthy than you?”
The preacher paused to study her for a long moment. Claire returned the stare with a level, even gaze, doing her best not to let any of her trepidation or nerves show through.
“You speak with the devil’s manipulation, but I cannot refute your point,” he said at last. “You may choose one of your parents to leave now.”
“My mother,” she said without hesitation.
The preacher looked at the vampires and nodded his head low. “If you would be so kind as to fetch the woman, my lords?”
My lords? Claire tried her best to hide her shock.
All along, she’d been operating under the implication that the creatures worked for the preacher. Now, however, he was acting like they were his superiors.
The creatures looked at the church preacher and then, without a word of acknowledgment, disappeared deeper into the building.
Claire turned to keep her back to a wall while she waited for them to return, resolutely ignoring the preacher as he stared at her.
“You will see the truth eventually,” he said quietly.
“I could say the same for you,” she replied, still staring straight forward, not making eye contact.
She couldn’t face the feverish burn of insanity that lurked in his eyes, amplified by the soft candlelight that was all she had to see by. It was too much for her. Besides, the longer she let him look into her eyes, the more chance he had of seeing that she wasn’t afraid.
“Claire?”
Her head whipped around as her mother shuffled into the room, the two vampires walking behind her like sheep dogs ushering their charges out of the pen.
“Mom!” she cried, rushing forward to embrace her mother.
“Claire, I don’t know what’s going on. Why are you here? You should leave. I—”
“Mom,” she said, taking her mother by the shoulders. “Be quiet. Listen to me. Everything is going to be okay. You have to do what I say. Don’t ask any questions. Don’t try to do anything else, okay?”
Her mom stared. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t get to. Not yet,” Claire snapped, knowing they didn’t have long. “Take my keys. My car is about two hundred feet in that direction. Hit the lock button to hear it beep. Get in it, and drive right home, okay? Don’t go anywhere else. Get inside and lock the doors. Do you understand me?”
“But your father—”
“Mother. Enough,” Claire barked harshly. “Shut up. Listen to me, and do as I say, got it?”
Her mom nodded shakily. Claire reached into her right pocket and pulled out her car keys. “Go.”
“Claire, what about you?”
“Trust me,” she said. “I know what I’m doing. Now go!”
Her mother shuffled to the edge. Claire winced as Aro—or maybe the other, she didn’t know, they looked similar with their grayish, pale skin and near identical features—picked her mother up and jumped down.
Claire ran to the edge, making sure everything went as ordered. She saw her mom hurrying away, and in the distance her car beeped as her mother hit the lock button.
Wind rushed, and the vampire leapt back into the building, almost brushing against her as it walked back to stand next to its pair in disturbing silence.
“Now, shall we proceed?” the preacher said, lifting an arm to lead Claire deeper into the building.
Steeling herself, Claire walked forward, once more crossing her arms, careful not to put too much pressure on her left side. She fidgeted nervously.
They led her into a room where her father was still tied to a chair.
“Claire!” he called as she entered.
“It’s going to be okay, Dad. I promise. You’ll be fine.” She turned to look at the preacher. “You had better be a man of your word.”
“God is always faithful,” the preacher said.
But you aren’t God. You’re just a man. An insane one at that.
The preacher indicated she should sit in the chair vacated by her mother. Claire shifted, hugging herself tighter, hands finding the hem of her shirt. But she sat as directed.
One of the vampires moved like a blur, going from in front of her to behind her in the blink of an eye. It bent her head sideways, exposing her neck.
“Claire what are you doing?” her father asked nervously, struggling against his bonds.
“Making things rig
ht,” she said with steely focus, not fighting as the vampire pulled her hair out of the way with a sickening caress.
“Just remember,” she said, looking up to meet the preacher’s eyes at last. “If you lie to me and don’t let him go, I will kill you. Benefits of becoming a superhuman vampire.”
The preacher smiled at her. “You’re welcome to try, my child. But God protects his own.”
Claire snorted and then grunted as the vampire wrenched her head to the side. She swore she could hear the hiss as its fangs extended.
Her fingers slipped under the left side of her shirt.
Almost there…
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Pietro
Even dragon patience had its limits.
Most of the time, Pietro could outwait whatever it was. Dragons were legendary for being patient.
All of that went out the window when his mate’s safety was in jeopardy. Pietro’s dragon had been bellowing its insistence that they act for over an hour now, even though she’d only disappeared into the building a minute or two ago.
Where is your father? Pietro asked himself the question for the fourth time.
Something was wrong.
That was his first feeling, the gut instinct building in his stomach. He’d watched her mother come out and drive away. She would be headed for their home, hopefully, where she would be safe behind the threshold. Unbeknownst to her, Kladd and Trent were trailing her on the rooftops, ensuring that nobody got in her way.
Claire and Pietro had agreed that it would be best if she didn’t know she was being followed. Her mom had gone through enough already. The dragons would remain unseen unless the vampires tried something on the short drive home.
Meanwhile, he crouched in the debris with Rann, both of them having arrived before Claire, sneaking in slowly and then waiting.
“Her father should be out here by now,” he said quietly enough that only Rann could hear him.
“Something is wrong,” his friend and teammate agreed. “What do we do?”
The final decision was on Pietro. It was his mate who was in there, in harm’s way. Rann wouldn’t break the rules and go without him. Pietro had to make the call. Did he abandon the plan and go with his gut? Or did he wait for her father to exit the building, like they’d agreed upon?
“What do we do?” Rann asked again.
From inside the building came a shrill, piercing shriek. No human could have made such a sound. There was only one creature that could.
A vampire.
Pietro’s dragon roared in response.
“We go,” he snarled, already rising from cover.
Rann must have anticipated the answer because he was moving before Pietro had finished speaking. The two hurdled the rubble in front of them and landed, accelerating at a near sprint as they headed for the opening.
With a grunt, they launched themselves into the air, landing in a crouch on the tiled flooring of the ruined building, nearly twenty feet in the air. The way the building was perched on the outcropping of earth was a strong reminder of the power of an earth dragon unleashed.
Pietro raced through the hallways, searching for the room where his mate was, trying to find her before the vamp recovered. It would only be down for a short period of time. He had to get in there before that was up.
“Claire!” he bellowed, dust drifting down from the ceiling as his voice filled the hallway.
“In here!”
He turned and simply barreled his way through a wall, heading in the direction he’d heard the voice come from, the flimsy interior walls collapsing under his unrestrained power.
Bright, flaming red scales, practically the color of his mate’s hair, rose to cover the surface of his skin as he prepared for battle. He blasted through another wall and came to a stop at a strange tableau in front of him.
Claire was kneeling behind a chair, frantically struggling at the bonds that held her father to it. In her right hand was a long white cylinder emitting a purplish light.
Even as he watched, a vampire came close to her, but Claire waved the wand in its direction, and the creature retreated swiftly with an angry hiss. Nearby, another vampire was on the ground, clutching at its face, rolling around, still making that horrible sound.
Pietro grinned. The plan had worked! The UV wand, meant for sanitizing the house, wasn’t strong enough to kill a vampire, but when shoved into the unhinged jaw of a vampire going in to bite someone it would hit the fleshy, painful inside of its mouth.
“This is enough!” the preacher shrieked, throwing off his shock at Pietro and Rann’s arrival and going for Claire, hoping to stop her.
Pietro darted forward to help her, but the remaining vampire intercepted him, blocking his path with a hiss, fangs extended.
Flame roared to light in his hand.
“Get Claire!” he snapped at Rann, squaring off with the vampire.
It glanced warily at his flame-filled hand, watching it intently. Too intently. Pietro bit down on a smile and led the vampire on like a matador, swirling the fire around, occasionally launching small bursts at the vamp.
Behind him, he heard a grunt and a thud. He smiled. Rann would make short work of the preacher, that was for certain.
He brought his flame-filled hand in close to his chest and then snapped it as far out to the side as he could. The vamp’s eyes tracked it precisely.
Which is when a stream of flame from Pietro’s other hand caught it in the chest and hurled it back against the far wall, burning its clothing and starting to melt its skin.
“Ro!”
He spun to see Rann unconscious on the ground, blood pouring from his head, and the other, injured, vampire standing over him with a long piece of metal in its hand. The creature from the Otherworld must have surprised the dragon, waiting until he was out of visual range to strike.
The vamp raised the pole and prepared to split Rann’s skull open with it.
Dammit.
Pietro flung himself forward, taking the blow in the side even as he collided with the vamp and the pair tumbled to the ground. Pain erupted from his ribs. At least two of them were broken—he’d felt them go—and breathing was excruciating. Even short, shallow breaths were almost more than he could handle.
Getting to his feet, doing his best to ignore the stabbing pain in his side, Pietro faced off against the vampire. Its mouth was a mass of bubbled, bleeding, and blackened flesh, but otherwise it looked to be in decent condition.
Behind the vampire, Claire gave up her struggle with the bonds and, with an ear-piercing shriek, collided with the preacher as he came at her. She was scratching, kicking, and punching like a whirling demon, all the while howling at the top of her lungs as she tried to overpower the Church leader.
This time, it was Pietro who was distracted. While he was busy watching his mate fight like a madwoman, his vampire rushed him and bore him to the ground, trying to overpower him and go for his neck with its razor-sharp fangs. Even his dragon scales wouldn’t protect him from their bite.
“Bad move,” he grunted, wrapping his own arms around the vampire. “Flame on!”
Fire erupted from all over Pietro’s body and the pair were immolated in flames within a heartbeat. Seconds later, the remnants of his clothes, those that had survived the change to his half-dragon form, went up in ash as did those of the vampire.
Then, its skin began to burn.
Pietro squeezed harder, keeping his grip as the vampire shrieked in pain, the sound suddenly cut off as flames found their way down its throat.
Tossing the melting corpse away, Pietro got to his feet, a living avatar of flame, just in time to see the preacher turn and flee as he tore himself free from Claire’s vicious assault.
Pietro went after him, but a sagging, half-melted mass came hurtling out of the shadows and distracted him as it landed a punch on his broken ribs. Shrieking in agony, he went down, his flame-covered fists immediately starting to melt away the tile as he crouched on all fo
urs.
“Ro, get up!” Claire shouted. “Please. I can’t stop him.”
He twisted his head to see the vampire advancing on Claire. She held the wand out in front of her, but the vampire seemed immune to its powers now.
No, not immune. Uncaring. It knows it’s dead. It just wants to inflict as much damage as possible on the way out.
“Down!” he bellowed.
Claire glanced at him as he lifted a hand, then she dropped to the floor, covering her head with her hands.
The vampire paused in surprise, then its head whipped around, the drooping mass of flesh that had been its face twisting in anger.
Pietro thrust a hand in its direction, and a blinding lance of flame struck it square in the chest. The white-hot flame burned so bright, it actually seared right through the vampire and out the other side, hitting the wall and not stopping.
The vampire corpse wobbled and fell to the side, the stream of fire burning its way free from the body before it went out. Pietro slumped to the floor, exhausted.
Safe. Everyone was safe now.
The fire went out, and he slowly began to pull himself together. The agony in his side both hindered and helped him. There was enough pain to make sure he stayed awake, though it wasn’t enough to make him pass out. Nor could he breathe easily, leaving Pietro constantly short of breath.
It would be a long few hours until his wounds healed. Hours he was not looking forward to. But they would heal, and everyone else was okay.
He thought.
“You good?” he asked, looking up.
Claire had just finished freeing her father and was being wrapped up in a hug, even as her head turned so she could look at him. He could read the expression on her face. She wanted to be at his side. To check on him.
Pietro waved it off, doing his best to give her a smile.
Nearby, Rann groaned and began to stir.
Pietro grinned. He wasn’t going to let his friend live this one down anytime soon.
“Okay, everyone,” he said. “Including you, lazy bones. On your feet.”
Rann glared up at him and then winced and lowered his head. “I don’t like you right now.”
Pietro laughed and then immediately regretted it, hissing in pain as he bent over at the side.
