Blood of Stars and Gods

by Melissa Petreshock

  Jai gestures toward Cait’s knife, on the ground a few feet away from me, and I hand it to him. He sniffs at the blood on its blade and wrinkles his nose. “Agtos correct. Oracle. Not Oracle. Blood Mage.”

  “Goddess of all creation! That’s outrageous, unlawful by nature!” The exclamation slips out unintentionally. A Blood Mage. Goddess, help us all. The warring furious and fearful sides of me haven’t yet resolved into full-blown vengeance, and I steady myself with one hand on the ground, nauseated.

  Theo’s voice breaks the silence fallen among us. “Agtos said it was Z’s brother, Valoin.”

  “The sovereignty’s elfin Minister of Defense had a vampire brother, and no one was aware?” I don’t need to look at Falcon to know he’s sneering. Even his voice sneers. I want to tear his sneering face off, but I will not leave Cait’s side, will not miss each breath she takes, not if any one may be her last.

  “Z told me his brother no longer lived.” Corrin speaking catches me off guard. I’d nearly forgotten him in his silence. Falcon growls at the vampire’s interjection, but Theo holds up a hand, allowing it. “Foolishly, I believed that meant him to be dead, not ‘undead.’ Such as it is an antiquated and derogatory term, full of bigotry and hate for that beyond the understanding of limited minds, I did not expect him to see it fit for use.” He falls short of words, his tone guilt-ridden when he speaks again. “It seems my trusted counselor filled my head full of more deception than he did wise advisement … can she be saved?”

  Oliver looks to me, looks for hope to give his ward, but I’m afraid I have none to spare.

  “Corrin, dragon blood might save her, but the risks are far too great, or any one of us would have done so without hesitation.”

  “How? How can any risk outweigh the loss of Cait?” He demands answers to questions beyond his scope of understanding, daring to approach. Coming too near the scent of Cait’s blood, his fangs drop. The distinct snick draws threatening growls from each of us surrounding her. His own dragon warns him off.

  Falcon darts over to Corrin, snarling in his face. “Retract those fangs, vampire. No king exists in my presence, merely a threat to the North Star.”

  Corrin hangs his head, stepping back, silent and embarrassed. With a sigh, I shake my head, exasperated by everything. It is simply too much. “Falcon, he is but a child. A child with no understanding of what he asks or the consequences.”

  “Cait not human. Cait not eternal.” Jai runs a finger along Cait’s cheek as he speaks, his eyes remaining on her. “Dragon blood not good.”

  “Biologically, Cait is in transition,” Clifford further explains on Jai’s behalf, quick to fill in the blanks left. “She is not fully human nor is she fully eternal. Her blood is a mix of both. The very nature of dragon blood’s healing properties works on humans, seeking out all foreign bodies and destroying them, leaving the human blood cleansed of all disease and healing any damage of the flesh.” I keep my eyes fixed on her, praying to the Goddess for another path, a way to save Cait. “Our blood would also attack and destroy any of Cait’s blood that has already transformed, determining it to be some mutation, perhaps a virus. One risk is that this would prevent her from being capable of ever transforming, stifling her destiny.” He pauses, voice dropping lower. “The greater peril … if the change is beyond fifty percent complete, too much of her blood would be destroyed, and she …” Clifford trails off, saying nothing more, and Corrin does not ask.

  “There must be another option.” He whispers the words with a tinge of hope we all want.

  “Vampire blood.” Theo’s tone is dull, lifeless. His eyes remain on Cait.

  “I shall tear this one to pieces,” Falcon growls low, inching closer to Corrin. “The North Star can have all of his.”

  “Me?”

  “You were tasked as a member of her Guard, were you not?” A deep rumbling rises from his chest, and Oliver stiffens, glancing to Theo. “You were present in the room when the attack occurred. You failed her.” He unleashes a snarl. Oliver clenches a fist in Cait’s hair. Falcon could just as easily place the blame on his shoulders. He would accept every ounce of it.

  “Enough,” Theo states, tone low, menacing, warning. “He failed. We failed. I failed. Who bears the blame for not seeing what we believed impossible? Which of us has known an Oracle, other than Agtos, to rush into battle? They are not warriors. They are seers. They are not fighters. They are mild-mannered mystics. How could we anticipate a Blood Mage? Not one has been seen in over two thousand years.” He exhales a great sigh, defeat inscribed on his every feature. “Corrin’s blood is tainted with great illness. Every drop in his body could not suffice to undo what has been done. I must call upon Dante.”

  With that, he reaches over her body and picks up Cait’s right hand, rubbing her limp thumb across the ring she wears, the protection talisman given by the demigod. When I prayed for another path, a way to save her, I wasn’t asking for this sacrifice instead.

  In a blinding flash of azure lightning and deafening crack of thunder, the demigod appears at Cait’s feet. “Caitriona.” His broken whisper fills the silent void as he steps around to kneel at her right side. “What has happened?”

  “Agtos said the Oracle we suspected sided with Z was not an Oracle. He was all-too-right.” Theo’s eyes fall to Cait. “Valoin is a Blood Mage.”

  Dante quickly moves his hands to her neck. “Was she bitten?”

  “I cannot say,” Oliver replies. “He brought three others. Perhaps to distract us. We did not see every move he made toward Caitie.”

  In a hushed tone, Dante curses in long-dead languages, a behavior I would find amusing from him in another situation. Worrisome is the only thing I can say it is now.

  “The ring I gave her, I ensured it could heal the bite of a vampire, yet I can still detect the fresh healed punctures here on the left side. They are not of a depth with lethal intent. I do not believe he desired her death. Valoin wanted to sample the strength within her.” He pulls his hands away from her, staring at the blood on them. “Whatever Z’s desires in this war may be, his brother has other plans. Z cannot control such a vile-souled vampire and the darkest of magick that is a Blood Mage. Amassing blood-borne powers such as Caitriona’s would unleash an atrocity upon this world the likes of which have never been seen. My darkest days were a mild nuisance in comparison.”

  “None of their intentions matter if she dies, Dante. You must save her.” Theo eyes him in a way that would run most men’s blood cold.

  “Theo …”

  “Do what you must.”

  Taking Cait’s hand in his, Dante runs a finger over her ring. “I cannot deny what I feel for her, Theo. … You realize what you are asking, do you not?” He pauses; gazing at her face, and the truth blazes in his eyes, a love deeper than I once believed him capable of bearing for anyone. “She is not without love for me, not as she holds for you, but there is love for me in her heart and has been from the beginning. You know what outcome those circumstances may bring.”

  “To let her die is a selfish act that all dragons would pay the price for, and I would bear the weight of such a choice. To see her live in this manner is a sacrifice I suffer to ensure my brothers reap the benefit of her life. If she truly belongs to me, she will find her way back, Dante.”

  *Corrin*

  I realize Falcon has stepped away from me, watching this scene play out, not one among us unaffected by the pain in the moment. Theo tenderly lays Cait’s left hand on her chest, and a tear escapes my eye to see her appear prepared for death. Jai moves to pull the dagger from the home it found embedded in her body. I believe she may flinch at the painful action, but cannot be sure if it is only the deepest desire for hope. Her breaths come so shallowly and far between; they are almost nonexistent.

  Cait belongs to the dragons, and they to her. Whatever loss or thankfulness I may feel at the outcome; this will be their devastation or their miracle. She became my conscience, yet she is their heart and soul.


  Perhaps Cait is my soul beyond my physical body. I know I feel as if I am truly dying as I see her lying in the grass, her life seeping into the ground beneath.

  “Corrin, come.” Dante calls to me, but I hesitate, afraid of reacting to the scent of her blood again. He turns, brows knit together in anger. “What is wrong with you, boy? Waste no time.”

  “Her blood—”

  “Precisely,” he replies quite harsh. “I have it on my hands. You must bite my wrist.” I stumble for a reply, and he grows impatient. “Should I ingest even a drop and her heart stop beating, the outcome shall not be healing, Corrin. I swore never to turn another after your father, and I will not, most definitely not Caitriona.”

  As I walk toward him, I imagine for a moment a world where Cait’s heart did not beat, her face did not flush when breathless and excited after dancing, her touch lacked warmth. “No. I cannot see her happy with such a life.” Reaching my grandfather, taking his arm in my hands, I kneel at his side, not restraining my fangs’ descent this time.

  His eyes fall to Cait. “No. Never.”

  Nodding, I lean forward, sinking my fangs into his wrist. Not a muscle of his body flinches nor does a feature on his face falter in its expression, completely passive, unresponsive, as if he feels nothing, fully tolerant of the bite. Yet Dante’s blood is unlike anything ever to touch my tongue, a decadent ambrosia my body craves while my conscience wars, demanding it be spat out. I made my peace with death, not to be undone.

  “Drinking a small amount will not save you, Corrin, only prolong your life. Danger lurks in the shadows for Caitriona. Accepting death now is cowardice when you may live to serve her still.”

  Pulling away, I choke down the blood that filled my mouth, glaring at him. “You tricked me.”

  He gestures to Jai, who holds Cait’s mouth open as my grandfather holds his bleeding wrist to her lips, urging into her body the very crimson liquid passed on to give me this strangely impermanent immortal life. “Nonsense, Corrin. I simply play an excellent game of chess and protected a valuable piece from being taken before I am prepared to relinquish it.”

  Rising to my feet, I turn away. “A pawn, not a king.” The words come out quiet, a hurtful reminder of all that has happened, and I walk past Falcon, unable to face any of them.

  “Even pawns have immense value in the eyes of a masterful player,” Dante calls behind me. “Her heartbeat steadies already.” He no longer speaks to me, but I return to watching, standing a small distance behind Falcon. Lifting her shirt modestly, he examines the wound. “It heals.” There is a deep relief in his voice. “I have no doubt her transformation made Caitriona’s blood vastly more suitable to mine, hastening the process.”

  “And Cait will know how suited she is to you now.” Theo stands, taking a step back. “You swore to love her if I failed, Dante.”

  His bitten wrist already healed, my demigod grandfather runs a thumb along Cait’s cheek. “I do love her, Theo, but I will not take advantage of this. Caitriona is not mine to keep.”

  “I love her as well, but if she does not remember her love for me, she will not return to me. Do not make her unhappy.”

  Cait’s eyes flutter open, and she takes a deep breath, choking on the blood in her mouth. Oliver assists her to sit up, leaning her back against him for support, Claaron staying at her side as Jai checks over her. “Cait good. North Star safe now.” He beams with excitement, unable to stop touching her as if he believes she may disappear in one of his own little tricks, finally kissing her cheek before calming to sit back on his feet at her side.

  She reaches a hand to Dante, and he glances up at Theo before taking it. “What happened to me? Why am I covered in blood?” Cait looks around at the dragons hovering over her. “And why is everyone acting as if I’m dead?”

  “You nearly were, Caitriona. By no means are they overreacting.” He speaks in gentle, soft words laced with worry. “It became necessary that I give you my blood … as a last resort.”

  Cait stares at him for a rather long moment before speaking again. “Am I … I’m not …” Her free hand jumps to her chest, and I know she’s ensuring she still has a heartbeat.

  “No. No, love.” Dante stops himself, closing his eyes for a second, trying to control the emotions unleashed within, the undeniable bond forged. “No, Caitriona. I took precautions to guarantee that would not happen under any circumstances. You are just as you were before … just as healthy,” he corrects, knowing she is quite deeply changed.

  Despite how well his blood as a vampire heals her, his blood as a deity can wipe clean any romantic interests disturbing her desire for him. Goddess willing, Cait being the North Star shall allow some way she may find her way back to Theo. As great as my grandfather’s love for her is, the very values he has struggled to instill in me would never permit him to find this entirely acceptable, but he made promises to Theo as well, and now finds himself in a quandary of most epic proportions. Nothing less could be said for this matter between dragons and deities.

  “The ways in which Agtos shall find this matter quite disappointing and entirely disagreeable are well beyond my ability to account for.” Falcon’s sharp statement earns glares from his brethren, but Theo roars, leaping to shift mid-air. I barely move to escape the entanglement, Falcon shifting in time to catch the force of Theo’s fierce attack.

  “Well, Hades’s balls of fire, this night seems quite intent on turning into some dramatic romance novel gone awry,” Claaron quips, shaking his head.

  Liam walks over, watching the two dragons at each other’s throats in a lethal battle for dominance. “Considering what an asinine fuck Falcon always is and Theo turning full-blown True Alpha, I’m hoping for a good suspense-horror-action-murder kind of thing.”

  Claaron smirks. “Is that even a genre?”

  Shrugging, Liam casually replies, “I don’t know, but are you gonna tell me these two can’t make it up if it doesn’t already exist? As for the murder—spoiler alert—Falcon dies, and Theo did it. If he doesn’t, I think I will.”

  Catching me by surprise, Cait walks up beside Liam, teasingly bumping into his side. “Nice to know that I nearly die, and you don’t change one bit, my Scary Dragon.”

  He wraps an arm around her, his laugh sounding forlorn rather than humorous as he looks down at her for a moment before turning back to the action playing out in the side yard. “Oh, Caitie-Cat, I wish nothing changed.”

  Behind her, I hear the chorus of agreement from her dragons—and Dante. None of us do not wish we could rewind the clock a few hours, making decisions anew, but that is not how destiny operates, and this is the path we must walk.

  Chapter 8

  *Cait*

  “Oh, yikes!” I jump, watching Theo lash at Falcon with his tail, the spikes tearing into his side, gouging at the scale-protected flesh, drawing blood. “Is this normal? I mean, I know Falcon’s an ass, but is Theo going to kill him?”

  Theo slashes the red dragon’s throat with his front talons, but Falcon’s teeth catch him, cutting his forearm. Without a moment’s thought, I run toward him, finding myself caught in Liam’s arms before I get two feet away. “Exactly where do you think you’re going? North Star or not, that …” He points directly to the two dragons battling in the yard, barely visible in the light of the moon and stars. “ … is no place for you. Why would you even try that?”

  “He’s my dragon.” Seething, I wrestle free of his grasp. “Theo is my dragon, and he’s hurt.”

  Coming to stand beside me, Dante rests a hand lightly on my upper back, smiling. “Yes, Caitriona, Theo is your dragon, so very much your dragon, yet in an assertion of dominance such as this, when his rank as the True Alpha has been questioned, that would not prevent accidental harm from coming to you. Despite the depth of his love, Theo is not thinking quite clearheadedly at the moment.”

  “Love …” I laugh awkwardly, slipping my arm around his back and stepping closer, unsure why that word makes me feel uneasy thinking of T
heo. “Only a demigod could be so comfortable with his wife having that odd dragon/ward connection, I suppose.”

  Inhaling a sharp breath, he releases it slow and calm, watching Theo and Falcon. Understanding why they do this or not, I can’t imagine he enjoys watching his friend in such a dangerous situation.

  “Of course … only a demigod likely could,” replies Dante, and I think he’s not quite as comfortable with it as he lets on.

  Not wanting to discuss this now, I turn back to see Falcon attempt to take to the air, provoking Theo, but Theo buries his lethal teeth into Falcon’s leg, and tosses him onto the ground again, vicious in his power. Falcon lands unceremoniously on his back, one wing crumpling at a painful angle with a sickening crunch. In no time, the massive emerald green body of my dragon lunges to pin down the Kielgard dragon, growls erupting into deafening roars of triumph as his clawed hand grips his defeated opponent around the neck.

  Theo leans down, clenching his wickedly sharp teeth into Falcon’s neck. The dragons surrounding me hoot, cheer, and growl encouragingly, prepared for a bloody end, but my body feels as though I’m erupting into flames. “Stop,” I demand, screaming at them … all of them, and immediately, both Theo and Falcon shift into their human forms, jean-clad, shirtless, bloodied.

  Picking Falcon up by his arm, Theo drags him toward me. As they come closer, I can see the deep red blood mingling with the dark color of Falcon’s low-slung jeans, though the injury is mostly healed already and only blood remains. Theo forces him to his knees at my feet, and Falcon’s jaw tenses, refusing to appear weak, looking directly up, into my eyes.

  “It pleases you that I leave him to live, shamed by his defeat?” Theo asks, but my eyes are drawn to a bead of sweat, glistening in the moonlight as it lazily slides from his chest, creeping onto the planes and ripples of his abdomen.