Fire of Stars and Dragons

by Melissa Petreshock

  “I saw him this morning.” Nothing about this situation says I should have to explain every move I make to each of them. “Is that a problem?” My question is harsh, a drastic sharp edge threatening to cut anyone daring to push me.

  His eyes narrow, mouth turning down, and he steps toward me again, pushing my hair off my shoulders, inspecting my neck, mumbling something to himself that sounds distinctly not English when he sees the bite marks. “It appears you did more than see him.” Dropping his hands, he nods, lips forming a tight line. “You choose to give yourself to Corrin. That is your decision. However, I could never enjoy the intimate pleasures of your company knowing you shared his bed, Caitriona. I am afraid I must dismiss…”

  “No, Dante. No.” Something breaks inside me to think he would believe I could betray him for Corrin, and I grab his hand, not about to let go. “I didn’t. It wasn’t about sex. He’s sick. Starving. I just let him feed from me, nothing more. You can ask Theo.”

  He meets my eyes, studying them with a blazing intensity. “You resisted him, and the allure, the seduction, of the bite. How? Why?” The concept seems to baffle the demigod.

  Holding his hand, I take a step nearer. “I didn’t want him. I don’t want him.” Hoping he won’t use the chance to pull away, I move to slip my fingers through his, lacing them together the way he did last night, and he allows it, clasping his hand around mine, keeping me with him. Closing the distance between us, my forehead brushes along his face, and I lean into him, feeling his arm on my back. “I couldn’t do that to you.”

  There’s a lighter tone in his voice when he speaks again. “And why is that?”

  Recalling our conversation last night, I meet his gaze and don’t look away. “After everything that’s happened and what I know, unless there was some neon sign from the deities, like fire raining down or hell freezing over, I believe I know who I would choose if I had to choose this second, Dante.”

  With a soft smile, he kisses me, tender and loving. “As far as I know, only the Dracopraesi could do anything comparable to raining down fire, and I shall speak with Hades myself, seeing to it he has no inclination of making the Underworld into a winter wonderland over the next few days.”

  “I believe we’re gathering an audience.” Theo’s gruff tone breaks the moment. “It is time to move to the car and leave.”

  ***

  “Do you intend to do it again?”

  Washing down my bite of Caesar salad with a drink of lemon water, I set the glass back on the dining table. “Do what?”

  “Let Corrin feed from you.” He’s finished his shrimp primavera already and relaxes in his chair with a glass of wine. Deities are so fortunate alcohol doesn’t affect them the way it does me. I would love a whole bottle of something right now. “You said you did it because he’s starving. You wanted to help him. Do you intend to continue doing so?”

  I set down my fork, afraid this conversation is taking a turn for the worse. “Yes. I told him I would do it until I made my choice, then he’s on his own.”

  “And he accepted that.”

  “Actually, he asked me what happens if I choose him.” I take a deep breath and blow it out in frustration. “I tried to explain that’s not going to happen.”

  Dante laughs. “I’m quite sure he did not believe that to be true or even remotely possible. Corrin has always enamored women. He would never believe you could be any different, or respond less willingly than others.”

  “There’s a first for everything, isn’t there?” His expression turns serious again. “What?”

  “There most certainly is, Caitriona.… Is that ring of particular sentimental value?” he asks, pointing to my right hand.

  I reach down, covering the sterling silver, Celtic woven design of it. “It’s a family heirloom. Belonged to my great-great grandmother, the one I’m named after. Uncle Thomas gave it to me. She was the only descendant of his who knew who he was before the revolution, who accepted him as he was, as a vampire.”

  “Then, yes, it holds sentimental value.” I nod. “Let me see it.” Without thinking twice, I pull my hand away, placing it in my lap under the table, out of his sight. “I will not damage it, Caitriona. I swear to you, I will not leave this room with it, and I will return it to you forthwith.”

  Hesitant, I slip it off and hand it to him, telling myself if I’m willing to marry him, I have to be at least willing to let him touch my ring. “You know, I will kill you if you do anything bad to that, right?”

  “Did we not already establish I am eternal?” he asks, eyes on my ring, not me.

  “Oh, I’ll find a way. Trust me. I will. I swear that to you.”

  He glances up for a moment, brows raised in amusement, as if he doesn’t think I’m serious. “Do not be frightened of what you see me do, love. I will not harm you.”

  Love. He called me ‘love.’ I want to ask what he means, but I hear the faint snick of fangs dropping and see Dante with razor-sharp, lethal fangs peeking out behind his upper lip. A small gasp escapes me at the unexpected sight. He pricks his thumb on one fang, then retracts them, rubbing his blood on my ring.

  “It is my own detestable gift that created the vampires. I am the one who started it all, the first of their species, and have lived to regret my actions for millennia.” Holding my ring balled in his fist, a blue light glows, a low humming accompanying it, and when he opens his hand, my ring is shinier than it ever has been. I reach for it, but he pulls it away. “Wait. You will burn yourself if you do not let it cool. It is also my gift, my blood, which heals the damage they do, though what I am doing for you will protect you in more ways than one.”

  “And what exactly are you doing?” I ask, watching as my ring dulls.

  “Sealing my blood into something close to your heart,” Dante replies, blowing a gentle breath over my ring, then standing to approach me, taking my hand and slipping the ring back on, looking as it did when I gave it to him, and a warm tingling runs up my arm and through my body. “Blood of the original vampire in existence bound into the silver by power only I hold, given the breath of eternal life.… This is the most powerful protective talisman you may ever own, unless, of course, you were given one by my mother.”

  He sweeps my hair off the right side of my neck, leaning down closer as he does, and I flinch, the image of him with fangs fresh in my mind. “Please, don’t.”

  “Caitriona.” He whispers my name, not moving. “I despise that part of me more than you can fathom to be possible. There is no reason for any of it. I have no bloodlust, no need, and most certainly, no desire to bite you, or to harm you in any way.” Smoothing my hair down with one hand, he runs a finger over my ring. “This is meant to keep you safe, to heal a vampire’s bite since you are so insistent on aiding Corrin for now. I only wanted to be sure it worked properly.” Gently, he kisses the ring. “And with this, you can call for me, even if I’m in the High Realm. I will feel the pull to your side when you need or want me. No matter where I am, I am always here for you, my love.”

  Hearing it again makes me smile, the sweet sound reminiscent of the sweet taste of his kiss. “Why did you call me that? You did a few minutes ago, too.”

  Kneeling beside my chair, he holds my hand in his, eyes on the ring rather than on me. “I did say I believed I would find no difficulty falling in love with you, Caitriona.… And I have spent every moment since I left your side last night unable to escape thoughts of you. The beauty of your eyes and smile, the silken waves of your hair in my fingers and your soft skin under my touch, the sound of your laugh, your voice, your scent, your kiss. I find myself entirely too concerned with what decision you make—whether or not I shall be your chosen—and it has impaired my ability to concentrate on all else.”

  “But if I mean that much to you, how could you say you’d walk away so easily when you thought I’d been with Corrin?” I ask, both angry and confused.

  “Sacra Trinitate Numina: scientia, moribus, pietate,” he says, tone flat and un
wavering. “Sacred Trinity of the Deities: knowledge, morality, and compassion… the principles my mother sanctifies as most godly in all beings. I do best with knowledge. However, believing you when told me how deep your distaste for Corrin was last night, and then you shared his bed this very morning? It was too far from any sense of morality I could abide by, Caitriona. As great as it would have pained me, and believe me, it would have far more than you may imagine, I could not take to wife a woman bearing such disgraces.”

  “I would be an embarrassment.” My tone is cold.

  A long silence stretches between us then he looks up at me, tears in his eyes. “You? How do you believe I felt, so assured of what you said to me, of the feelings you showed in your touch, in your kiss? Do you not think I felt entirely foolish to see the marks on your neck as proof you allowed a vampire to bed you, believing you may very well have turned right from my arms into his?”

  Unsure what to say, I lean down, kissing away a tear rolling down his cheek, and he closes his eyes, face turned up. “I am no mere man, Caitriona. I am the son of the Goddess and belong to the High Realm.” Voice breathy as he speaks, he reopens his vivid blue eyes, gazing up at me. “I could not bear to admit I fell in love with a mortal woman who proved me a fool.”

  Chapter 8

  *Theo*

  Oliver dismisses Liam from his duty at the door to the king’s apartment as he exits, meeting me in the hall. “Miss Hayden is well? I hope she suffered no ill effects from this morning. Corrin did not feed in excess.”

  “See to the care of your own ward, brother, and I will see to the care of mine,” I state, feeling quite irritated, pacing up and down the space with far too much energy and regret.

  “Oh, I am. However, you will not like what has happened since this morning.” Turning to him, I don’t want to go through the list of possible things I may not like to hear at this moment in time. There are far too many, and they all revolve around Cait. Undoubtedly, so does what he’s about to say. “In a rather shocking change of heart, Corrin intends to take Miss Hayden to dinner tonight, a so-called ‘date’ of sorts, to show her his interest in further pursuing his initial proposition is genuine.”

  I respond with a derogatory snort and a glare. Oliver frowns. Crossing my arms over my chest, I maintain my glare. “Exactly what does he expect to accomplish this late in the game, Oliver? Cait quite despises the little bastard, and seems to have settled on Dante.”

  “Then your efforts have failed.”

  “What efforts?” I ask rather rhetorically, throwing my hands up in frustration. “Am I to believe it is right of me to interfere with her destiny, to affect her in such a way out of my own desires… and my own confusion?”

  “What if her path is unclear to you because you cannot make the decision required to keep her on it? Perhaps it is your part which blurs the vision.” Oliver offers his perspective with a calm wisdom as always, yet with no experience in this particular matter to guide him.

  “I hold hope Claaron may shed light on the issue.” Ignoring his mild sneer, I move closer to my brother, dropping my voice. “The only thing I see clearly is Cait happy, loved, and in love. I want nothing less for her, Oliver.”

  “And you need to know if Rainelm felt that with Claaron.” He states his understanding of my expectations, with a stiff edge in his tone when speaking our brother’s name. “If he provides you with the answer you need, will you pursue her?”

  Unwavering, I meet his eyes. “The Goddess herself could not stop me.”

  *Corrin*

  Even on a Thursday night the last week of October, the Quincy Market, Faneuil Hall area of touristy shops and restaurants are booming with business. A crowd gathers at the sight of the caravan carrying my entourage this evening, and the second we step out of the limo, Cait and I meet with camera flashes and a few exuberant citizens screaming out to us.

  “Do you mind?” I ask with polite civility, quite positive this is part of what must make her dislike me: the public persona, gratifying the people’s need for my attention. “I do try assuaging them with a few autographs and photo ops.”

  She glances to Theo, who looks far less than pleased with any of this. “Alright. Go ahead if you must, Corrin.” Her voice is soft, I might venture a guess to say saddened, though she continues to behave and appear as if nothing is wrong. Without a doubt, she learned well raised by a vampire of status such as Sir Greyson.

  “Do not be silly, Cait. I want you at my side. The people of my kingdom wish to meet the first woman I have taken public since my coronation.” Adding a charming smile to win her over, I lead her toward a group of enthusiastic gatherers.

  Cait endears my people with natural ease and graciousness, signing a few requested autographs, posing for photographs with me, even reaching out and shaking hands with several people, an interaction I refuse, preferring to choose who touches me.

  We’re about to go inside, and one last woman calls out to us. “King Corrin, could we get a picture of you giving her a kiss, please?”

  A kiss. The vampire king who never settles with one woman kissing the lovely human heiress, making a royal couple fit for the media machine to churn up into quite a frenzy. Anyone stepping in the way of King Corrin and the people’s future Queen Cait would become the target of public outrage.

  I look to Cait, finding she’s wide-eyed, though schooling her expression in a reasonable pretense of not reacting to the request. Either she cannot believe someone asked, or cannot believe I’m asking her to do it. But I need her to. I want her to. I cannot allow her to choose one of the others. Everything revolves around her decision. My very existence hinges upon it.

  Her eyes plead with me, saying, no, walk away. Instead, I gather my resolve.

  “Cait, I can love you.”

  Before she responds, I press my lips to hers, a tender effort, the smallest gesture, a desperate show of my need for her, of my willingness to give her what she needs, too, and every word she wants to hear but that I do not know how to say.

  The words themselves come out quiet, though I know she heard them, as her expression told she missed nothing. None of the humans gathered could have heard, but they cheer with great exuberance, snapping pictures, and clapping until I release Cait’s lips from mine.

  Her heart races, and I turn waving to the crowd when Theo appears in front of me, his back to us. “That is enough. The king and Miss Hayden would like to enjoy the rest of their evening in peace.” He turns, glaring a dark warning, lips curled in a silent snarl, shoving me forward as he directs Cait with gentle care to the door. I do not fail noticing the meeting of their eyes, the unspoken exchange between them, though it confounds me what she could mean to a dragon. They know nothing of the way a woman yearns for love.

  Oliver comes to my side, taking hold of me as if guiding me in a matter of security yet far harsher. “I am so very glad you had the good sense to offer some welcoming preamble first,” he growls out low. “Had you kissed her without such, I daresay the news playing across the world tonight would be of two dragons fighting to the death in downtown Boston and the bloody end of the king.”

  Entering The Black Rose, we approach the host. “Good evening. Sir Oliver Pendragon.” My dragon introduces himself out of formal habit despite the entire sovereignty, nay, the world recognizing the distinguished Captain of the King’s Guard. “I called ahead on behalf of His Royal Majesty.”

  Pulling my arm away from Oliver’s grasp, I reach to take Cait’s hand, thankful she responds in kind, although more hesitant than I would like, slow in moving away from Theo with a glance back to him before joining me.

  Having come into the establishment several times with my brother, even since crowned king, I know the man rather well. “Danny, how’ve you been?” I ask, keen on a casual introduction, putting Cait at ease with me once again. “I’d like you to meet the lovely Cait Hayden.”

  Danny pats me on the arm. “Doing good. How’s the high life of king treatin’ ya?” Working at The Black
Rose well over six decades, he remembers a time predating my past fifty-three years on the throne, before everyone here knew I was a vampire, a secret held close for my own protection. “Ah, see ya found a beauty finally, one who’ll stick around and put up wit’ ya.”

  He reaches over, kissing her on the cheek, and I’m prepared to stop him, expecting Theo to take the good man’s head off, but Theo doesn’t make a move, and Cait kisses Danny’s cheek as well, sweet and endearing, just as she was outside. “Clearly, you don’t know me if you think I’m the one putting up with him, and it’s not the other way around, but I appreciate the kind words.” She’s playful and teasing, though I’m well aware how she dislikes me; and yet her public sensibilities and decorum indicate nothing amiss in outward appearance.

  “Ah, a sassy Irish lass to keep the king in his place,” the older man quips, leading us through the lower level dining area rather than to the upstairs pub, toward a reserved booth in the back corner with an excellent view of the night’s live band. “Well, it’s ‘bout time he had a good woman.… Here ya go, saved ya best seats in the house. Guinness for the king?” I nod. Danny knows my vice in the realm of human food and drink. “And for the lovely Cait?”

  “I’ll have the same.”

  “A woman after my own heart, she is. We’ll get those out and give ya a chance to look o’er the menu.”

  Seated together in the booth, we are let alone to dine, though Oliver and Theo remain less than ten feet away, Theo demanding to stand nearest us. I know we could have sat opposite one another, but I couldn’t bear to loosen the grip I held on her hand, and as she slid into the booth, I slipped in beside her. It feels natural to be near her, to touch her.