Dragons and Mages: A Limited Edition Anthology

by Pauline Creeden

  The town healer left his house. “I have news.”

  “My parents have recovered?” Koll asked eagerly, prepared to climb down at once.

  “Not exactly. You see, they and a few others have contracted a strange sickness. The others have recovered…”

  “But my parents have not,” Koll supposed.

  “Not as of yet, no.”

  “Do you think there is hope?” Koll dared to ask.

  The healer lowered his head.

  Ivna lowered her wing, and Koll slid down. To his surprise, she used a claw to slice her scales and caused herself to bleed.

  “Try my blood,” she said. “It may yet heal them.”

  Dragon’s blood could heal a person… or it might not. It most certainly was worth it to try, and Koll almost wept that Ivna would be willing to give of herself like this. Not all dragons would.

  The healer rushed forward and collected the blood in a vial he produced from inside his robe. Together, he and Koll entered the house. All night long, Koll stayed by their side. At first, the dragon’s blood seemed to help. Color returned to their faces, and they managed to drink some water.

  But then, just as the sun began to rise, their bodies trembled with fever. They vomited profusely, and they seemed so very weak that they could not even roll over.

  “They’re even sicker than before, aren’t they?” Koll asked as he and the healer left the house.

  “I’m afraid so. Even a castle healer might not be able to save them at this point.”

  Ivna coughed. “A phoenix might.”

  “Phoenixes don’t exist anymore,” the healer scoffed.

  The dragon shifted her gaze northward, toward the mountains and Keptra.

  Wordlessly, Koll nodded.

  Together, the two flew with minimal rest and stops for food. For three days, they flew above the desolate land, but they never once saw the fiery bird.

  “Is there any other creature with healing properties?” Koll asked desperately.

  “Not that I know of,” Ivna whispered. “Do you wish to continue searching?”

  “No. Let’s go back home.”

  Even though, Ivna flew just as hard and fast as before, when Koll returned, they were too late.

  His parents had already died.

  Through bitter tears and wails, Koll cried over his parents. He felt as if a piece of his heart had been ripped out. He still mourned Promise, but now, his grief overwhelmed him.

  His friends came. Ivna must have found them. Together, all of them buried his parents. Koll clung to his friends. He would need them more than ever before.

  As he struggled to hug them all at the same time, Ivna laid a wing over their backs. His friends and Ivna were his family now. Without Ivna, he would be lost, but with her, he knew that one day, he could be strong and fierce and ready for another adventure. For now, though, he would mourn and grieve and yearn for the light, the same light that his parents had given him when they first dared to believe in his dream of becoming a dragon rider.

  Enjoyed this story? Be sure to leave a review! Want to read more about some of the characters mentioned in the story? Then read the completed Age of Dragons Series.

  About the Author

  Nicole Zoltack is a USA Today bestselling author who loves to write romances. Of course. She did marry her first kiss, after all!

  When she’s not writing about knights, superheroes, or witches, she enjoys spending time with her loving husband, three energetic young boys, and precious baby girl. She enjoys riding horses (pretending they’re unicorns, of course!) and going to the PA Renaissance Faire dressed in garb. She’ll also read anything she can get her hands on. Her current favorite TV shows are Game of Thrones and Stranger Things.

  Sign up for her newsletter to learn when her next book is released as well as excerpts, cover reveals, and giveaways!

  Tainted

  J.E. Feldman

  Tainted © 2020 J.E. Feldman

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Chapter 1

  The sharp tinkling of a glass being struck cut through the chatter, drawing the eyes of every guest up toward the balcony framed by a curved double staircase. Drisy’s gut twisted into a painful knot as she hovered alongside her family while the gaze of every esteemed person within Sector 3 rested heavily on them. Her young niece and nephew shuffled nervously beside her as Drisy noted familiar faces in the sea of colorful gowns and tuxedos.

  Ned Lesden, the inventor of FLEX, waited patiently below, despite avoiding all social gatherings since the tragic loss of his wife to cancer. By creating the blood testing device that differentiated between human and dragon shifter blood, he had helped Meroq Corp save countless lives after a strange epidemic swept through and killed thousands. A new vaccine released in 2045 claimed to cure every illness from chicken pox to cancer. Some reacted positively, but others died or became zombies. Two years of frantically searching for a cure led them to try dragon blood with similar results. The negative result created unrecognizable monsters called vampires. Terrified by the turn of events, the world formed into sectors and began weeding out the dragon shifters by using FLEX. Many were imprisoned and others were left to defend themselves against the creatures abandoned outside the sectors.

  “Tonight, we gather here to celebrate our second daughter’s promotion within our esteemed company, Meroq Corp,” Lord Carson Hughes declared, dramatically sweeping his arm in her direction. He glanced from her to his upturned hand expectantly. She hesitated a moment before stepping forward to accept it, his skin cold in comparison.

  The crowd politely applauded before Carson released her hand and she slipped back into place alongside her sister. Despite being twins, there were distinct differences between them; the most notable was Delia’s dyed blonde hair, an attempt to conceal their family’s trademark silver to better suit her vanity and stave off all appearances of age. Delia’s sparkling green, off-shoulder gown was a perfect example of her casual wardrobe while Drisy preferred a simple shirt and pants. The strappy black gown with flowing skirts pooling at Drisy’s feet was the only one in her possession, reserved for special occasions. Their mother, Gina, always looked down on her for her lack of desire to dress fashionably, among other things. Her mother was of the opinion that somber black gowns should be exclusive to funerals. Celebrations, on the other hand, warranted fresh pops of color and sparkling statement jewelry to match.

  “Backs straight,” their mother hissed as their father loudly proclaimed dinner was to be served.

  They trailed down the staircase together, their parents leading the descent with Delia on their heels and Drisy sandwiched between her niece and nephew. Larson’s silver hair was slicked back from his forehead and Melody’s long, braided locks were snuggly pinned in an elaborate pattern at the back of her head. Drisy smiled warmly, noticing how adorable, yet so grown up, they appeared in a small blue tux and pink gown. The moment their group reached the foot of the staircase, people stepped forward to formally greet the hosts. Drisy managed to step aside nearby, a hand on each of the children’s shoulders as they waited patiently. Thick perfume obnoxiously tickled her throat as each guest passed by, smiles plastered on their faces as beady eyes scoured them from hea
d to toe.

  “Do you know when your husband will be returning?” an older woman draped excessively in diamond jewelry asked Delia.

  The kids immediately perked up at the mention of their father and they shuffled a little closer to listen.

  “Kurt is still stationed in Sector 5, performing a top-secret experiment for Meroq Corp. Once his research is complete, he’ll return home,” Delia said, dismissively. She lifted a champagne flute from the tray of a nearby waiter as he eased his way through the crowd.

  “It must be difficult raising two children on your own, while working a full-time job,” a woman dressed in purple spoke up.

  “That’s what servants are for,” Delia began, glancing over at Drisy, “and family.”

  Drisy tried hard to swallow a retort. Solely focused on her work, her twin barely spent five minutes in the same room with them. Interruptions at dinner never ceased, pulling Delia away for some emergency at the labs. The lives of scientists never slowed and Drisy counted her blessings for receiving natural physical prowess rather than the genetics of a genius. She was better suited for patrolling outside the sector rather than playing with test tubes. Her family constantly reminded her they regarded it as a poor decision, even after she accidentally blew up Delia’s chemistry set as a young girl.

  Stooping low, Drisy whispered to the kids, “Would either of you like anything to eat or drink now?” To her relief, both nodded. “Please excuse us,” she stated to the small group of women before ushering the kids away through a nearby archway and into a cavernous dining room.

  The monstrous table, usually placed in the center, had been replaced by multiple small round tables draped in white cloths surrounded by four black chairs each. Drisy noticed a single, vivid red rose in a glass vase adorned the center of each table as she chose one for them to sit at. Within moments, a couple servants rushed forth with printed lists detailing the selection of food available and hurried away with their orders. She watched quietly as the hall began filling with guests taking their seats and hoped no one would take advantage of the empty chair at their table. Melody drew slow circles across the tablecloth while Larson reached up to fiddle with his tie every few moments.

  “Is your schooling going well?” Drisy asked over the growing din.

  Melody perked up and gushed about learning her letters ahead of the rest of her class before Larson described a molecular science experiment he turned in for a school project.

  “Just like your father,” Drisy said, affectionately. “So bright and talented.”

  Both children beamed at the compliment.

  “How are my favorite kids doing?” a cheerful voice called out. A tall, beautiful young woman with curly red hair framing her face stepped up to their table. Shifting her extravagant blue ball gown, she gracefully claimed the spare seat.

  “Auntie Viv!” the duo exclaimed.

  Side-eyeing Drisy, she conspiratorially raised a white gloved finger toward her painted red lips. “You know you shouldn’t call me that at social gatherings.”

  “Sorry.” Melody’s lower lip puffed out, but she grinned again when the woman winked.

  “How have you been, Vivian?” Drisy spoke up.

  Sighing dramatically while slipping off her lacey, elbow length gloves, the redhead folded both neatly and tucked them away.

  “Besides my best friend ignoring me--”

  “I’ve been training,” Drisy interrupted.

  Vivian continued as though she didn’t hear, “My parents have been reminding me it’s time to get married to someone. The problem is the suitors are intimidated by my height. They want petite women who are quiet and humble. We both know, I’ll never be that.”

  They mutually laughed while the servants returned to set steaming plates down in front of them. When they asked Vivian what she wanted from the menu, she waved them away. After politely unwrapping their silverware and placing napkins in their laps, the kids dug in. Drisy shuffled food around her plate as Vivian gushed about a suitor she had scared off over the last couple of weeks.

  She had known the spunky redhead since they attended elementary school together, when Vivian mistook Drisy’s quiet personality for sadness and had adopted her the first day of class. Despite the rambunctious and naive behavior, she had grown fond of her. As the only child of Lord Peter and Cassandra Bisset, Vivian ended up spoiled beyond repair, but she also inherited their heart of gold.

  “How are your parents? Back from their vacation to Sector 1 yet?”

  “They’re doing well. Father came back sunburned and Mother hasn’t stopped complaining about how poor the coastal water quality has become.”

  “No issues during travel?” Drisy took a few sips of water.

  “Only a handful of zombies, but their escort handled it. You aren’t considering becoming an escort, are you, Drisy?” she asked. “It’s bad enough you’ve been patrolling outside the sector.”

  “Because of that very reason, Father has reassigned me to be a guard in the labs.”

  Vivian’s eyes lit up as she leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table’s edge. “I knew this party was to celebrate a promotion, but this will keep you out of danger.”

  Drisy nodded solemnly as her sister materialized from the crowd with a scowl.

  “Drisy, you know there is a table set up for the family. Why would you bring them over here?”

  “They deserve to eat without being displayed like trophies,” Drisy replied, the cool metal handle of the fork digging into the palm of her hand as her grip tightened.

  “That’s not a decision for you to make,” Delia growled, glancing between her kids. “You two know better as well. Gather your plates and follow me.” She curtly nodded toward Vivian, who turned away.

  With discontented sighs, they did as they were told while Vivian’s cheeks flushed with anger. The trio trailed off into the maze of tables and chairs, leaving the two women alone.

  “I see your sister hasn’t changed,” the redhead growled.

  Setting her fork aside, Drisy inclined her head in response.

  “Why the long faces, ladies?” A blond man in a black tuxedo pulled out a chair closest to Drisy and plopped down.

  “Chris Webber, you’re at the wrong table,” Vivian practically hissed, leaning back and crossing her arms across her ample chest.

  “Seems as good a spot as any to me,” he said, snatching the bread roll off Drisy’s plate.

  “Classy,” she sneered while he stuffed the entirety into his mouth.

  “What do you want?” Drisy asked, resisting picking up her fork to stab his hand when he reached for her food again.

  Music played in the background as guests began filtering out of the dining hall. The next portion of the party entailed dancing in the ballroom and Drisy had suspicions that’s why Chris had arrived. He had been a pompous thorn in her side ever since their parents discussed an arranged marriage a couple years prior. After she’d challenged him to a sword duel and won, his parents had embarrassingly withdrawn their proposition. He took advantage of every social gathering to stalk Drisy, keeping all other potential suitors at bay.

  He spoke up, after rapidly chewing and swallowing. “I want the first dance.”

  Vivian laughed derisively and responded before Drisy could. “Not a chance.”

  “Why? I practically own her. No other man will approach her knowing that,” he stated before munching on a stalk of asparagus.

  Drisy’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, her fingernails digging into the expensive tablecloth. “If you value your life, understand that no one owns me.”

  After catching stares from people seated nearby, she shoved back her chair with a screech and left the dining room, sidling past several guests.

  “Drisy,” her father’s voice called as she headed toward the left side of the staircase.

  Blatantly ignoring him, she made it to the staircase before a cold hand roughly grabbed her elbow and yanked her close. Adrenaline arched through her vein
s as she fought the reflex to fight, looking up into blue eyes similar to her own. He was spry despite his age. Glowering, her father leaned in close.

  “Do not ignore me again. Come meet our guests.”

  She plastered on a fake smile as he tugged her back toward the two handsome young men, both with dark hair and dark eyes. The similarity in their facial features alerted Drisy to their kinship. Still clutching her arm, her father squeezed unnecessarily hard during introductions.

  “Meet Ben and Mark, sons of Ned Lesden, the inventor of FLEX,” he said, motioning toward the shorter of the two first. “Ben works as an epidemiologist for our company and has consulted with Kurt on Project Xephyr in Sector 5. Mark is a world-renowned psychologist.”

  Drisy recalled learning about the Lesden family and FLEX, their handheld blood testing device designed to detect dragon shifter blood. Both served a crucial role in keeping Meroq Corp functioning.

  “A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Ben declared, stepping forward and offering his hand at the same time his brother did, causing them to brush shoulders.

  A faint blush crept along Mark’s cheeks as Drisy shook their proffered hands.

  “How is your wife doing?” she directed at Ben.

  “She’s been very ill as of late, but the doctors are certain she’ll begin improving soon,” he said.

  She nodded in understanding. “Is she residing in Sector 4 until her condition improves?”

  “Of course. They provide the best care. But, enough talk about me! Mark here is still single. As are you, I hear. You two would make a handsome couple,” he declared, playfully cuffing his brother’s shoulder.

  “Really? The last news we heard was you convincing a scientist’s daughter to settle down in Sector 1,” Drisy said.

  Ben dismissively waved his hand. “Just rumors. Our family would never allow that because of our social standing.”