Victoria Marmot- The Complete Series

by Virginia McClain

  So I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed Rhelia’s hand, and I followed our own bond. The one that she’d left open, so that she could contact me—the only person who was supposed to know that she wasn’t really dead. I was her ward, and apparently that meant something too, because I could feel a place for her inside me, a place that I had thought was shattered when my teeth had sunk into her flesh less than an hour ago.

  I followed that bond with… I’m not sure what. My essence? My magic? Some part of me that was transferable. Something that was me, but that I could manipulate and move outside of myself. Was that dark matter? Whatever it was, I moved it. I sent it flickering along the bond that held us, and I pushed it further, searching for Trev within Rhelia. I wasn’t sure that made any kind of sense, and I sure as shit didn’t know what I was doing, but that felt right. There must be some part of Trev inside of Rhelia, the same way that there was a part of him within me. It was what formed the bond, I figured. Tendrils of one person anchored inside of another, and then they were always connected, even when they were apart.

  I could sense the parts that were Trev now. The ones inside of Rhelia. They weren’t quite the same as the ones within me, but they were unmistakably Trev. Fiery. Fierce. Loving. Kind. Goofy. Fun. They held all of that, and more. Stubborn and reckless, too. It was all there. But they were blocked. There was something between me, between Rhelia, and that part of Trev. Not knowing what else to do, I pushed some of the bits of Trev that were within me against the ones inside Rhelia. At first I thought nothing was happening, but then, slowly, the parts within Rhelia started to writhe, as though they could sense their own kind and wished to reconnect. So I pushed them further, and also added a bit of the Rhelia that I had been surprised to find within me as well, and now the parts of Trev that were within Rhelia were jumping like a live wire.

  I had a brief sense of misgiving as I pushed further, worried what it would mean that I was crossing these lines. These bonds that were so personal might never be the same, after what I was doing, and I didn’t know how to undo anything that I did, but Trev was going to die. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t. I’d lost too damned much lately to lose him again too, and… damn it, even if I hadn’t, he was my twin. He might never forgive me for what had happened with Rhelia, but if he never lived long enough to hate me and love her, and do whatever he was going to do with his life, then I would never forgive myself, for any of it.

  So I pushed again, mixing my own Trevor-bond with Rhelia’s and my Rhelia-bond with Trev’s Rhelia-bond, and this was fucking weird to put into words, but the words didn’t matter. What mattered was that after a few more moments of this strange mingling, I felt a flash of energy, like touching an electric fence, and then I heard Trev cry out.

  When I opened my eyes, still holding Rhelia’s hand, and now holding Trev’s as well, though I wasn’t sure when I’d grabbed it, I saw Trev’s face, streaked with tears, a faint smile curling the corners of his mouth.

  He can ssssensssse me.

  THE BOY HAS STOPPED FIGHTING ME. AT LAST HE BEGINS TO HEAL.

  So, now tears were streaming down my face, too.

  Rhelia’s face was still the mask of death, including the blank, staring eyes that had chilled me so the first time that I’d seen them, but I now understood that all of that was simply part of the enchantment that Gwen hadc placed on her.

  “What a touching scene,” said a voice I had been certain I would never hear again.

  “FUCK, EDIK, YOU’VE really let yourself go,” I said, standing up and putting myself between my brother and the vampire, who was really channeling his inner Walking Dead right now. His head looked like it had only loosely reattached itself to his neck, and his body was coated in mud, dead leaves, and what looked like a few forms of fecal matter from various woodland creatures. His face was in only marginally better shape, and looked like an owl had crapped on it.

  “It took me a rather long time for my body to find my head, but thanks to the healing properties of this glade, I was able to survive.”

  I gave Life a rather judgmental glare, but the tree merely shrugged.

  I CANNOT SIMPLY SWITCH IT OFF, YOU KNOW.

  “Now, Vic, I believe you have some information that I am in need of, and I am no longer in a forgiving mood.”

  And, with that, he charged, not at me, but at my still-prone brother, lying on the ground at the foot of the Tree of Life. Which is how Edik learned what my bad side was really like.

  Even I was surprised at how quickly I was able to shift to my dragon form, but only Edik was surprised at how quickly I used those giant jaws to snap down and remove his precariously attached head.

  Which I then promptly spat on the ground.

  Then I opened my giant maw, and learned that dragon breath gets up to over 900 degrees Celsius in a matter of seconds.

  IMPRESSIVE. I DID NOT KNOW YOU COULD DO THAT. DIAMOND IS NOT EASY TO MELT.

  “Neither did I,” I said, returning to human form and getting thoroughly sick all over the leaves next to the charred remains of what had been Edik’s skull less than minute ago.

  IF YOU ARE WONDERING, HE IS DEFINITELY DEAD THIS TIME. I AM THE TREE OF LIFE. I WOULD KNOW.

  I laughed, threw up a little more, and said, “Yeah, Life, I’d guessed as much this time. But thanks.”

  And then I passed out.

  ONE OF THESE days I was really going to have to get tested for anemia or something. I mean, who passes out this much? Of course, with the number of times I had been healed by the Tree of Life, you would think that I couldn’t have any diseases left. Which made one wonder what was wrong with my life, that I kept fainting. Something to think about another time, I guess.

  “Is she going to be ok?”

  It sounded like it was time to open my eyes.

  “There she is,” Seamus said, as I blinked him into focus before me.

  “Gatita! Nice of you to come back so soon,” Sol added, from next to Seamus.

  They were sitting on chairs, side by side to the left of the bed I was lying in. Which was a bed I didn’t really recognize, though the style of it seemed familiar. When I finally looked at the walls and took a deep breath filled with cool, dusty air, I realized that I recognized where I was.

  “We’re at Rhelia’s house?”

  They both nodded.

  “Gwen showed up with you, Rhelia, and Trevor a few hours ago, and dropped you here.”

  “Are they alright?” I asked, my voice cracking even as the words came out.

  Sol and Seamus didn’t say anything.

  “Seamus?”

  “He said you killed Rhelia, and… is she really dead? She looked dead.”

  “It’s true. Well, sort of true, I guess. It was true, briefly. Or maybe it was never true. Maybe you can’t really ever change the past, I don’t know. But, at any rate, as far as he and I were both concerned, there was a brief period of time in which I definitely killed Rhelia.”

  “I assume it was an accident,” Seamus said.

  I thought about that for a long moment.

  “It was, I guess. The first time, anyway. I mean, I didn’t know it was her, but… honestly, even if I’d known, I don’t know what I would have done differently. If she’d injected him, we all would have died. Not just us, but a half a million people who had no idea what was going on and just had the bad luck to live in the city that Rebecca Dryer decided to use as a testing site, and…” I trailed off when I saw that both Seamus and Sol were staring fixedly at their hands.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Dryer got away,” Sol said.

  I looked at them both again.

  “That’s not all,” I prompted, taking in the pallor that tinged both of their faces. “Go on…”

  “They… MOME captured Siara and two other weredragons.”

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That is sooo not good. So very not good. Where are they? What are we doing to get them back?”

  Sol was quiet for a long time,
while she stared at the wall. Then she said, “We just got word that she injected one of them in Sucre.”

  I felt the urge to faint again. To disappear into some kind of void and never return.

  “How bad is it?” I whispered.

  “It must have been a weaker weredragon… it took out a few city blocks. They’re not sure how many people were killed yet. In the thousands, likely. Luckily, Albert says he hasn’t detected any tears in spacetime yet.”

  “Luckily.” The word felt so flat in my mouth I wanted to spit it out. Instead, I could feel my stomach start to turn.

  “Have we already lost?” I asked, not really expecting an answer. “How do we get them back?”

  Sol and Seamus just stared at me. Right. How would they know? And what could I even do?

  “Did Gwen say anything about Rhelia?” I asked, needing desperately to cling to the only thing that had gone right so far today. Rhelia and Trev were alive. They had to be. I had done everything I could to save them, and they had to be alright.

  “Gwen said she was dead, Vic,” Sol said, her own voice cracking.

  I swallowed. I didn’t think I could handle pretending that it was true with Seamus and Sol. Especially if Trev…

  Trev? Trev. I know you can’t forgive me, but… will you talk to me? Is… is Rhelia alright?

  The silence that followed gutted me a hundred times over. I considered reaching out to Rhelia myself, but something stopped me, maybe just a desperate need to know my brother would still talk to me. Even though it was seeming more and more like he wouldn’t.

  She’s alright, Vic. We won’t have to keep this up for much longer. Gwen just said that the more people who thought she was dead the better, and Rhelia agreed.

  It felt like a hand had finally stopped squeezing my chest when I felt Trev through the bond.

  All will be well, Living Cat. You should resssst.

  I wanted to ask them both a million questions, not least of which was why we had to pretend Rhelia was dead, but I didn’t want to bother them right now, and I wasn’t going to argue with them even if rest was the last thing on my mind, and nothing was going to be "well" anytime soon.

  There were two weredragons out there who were in desperate need of rescue, not to mention all the people who would die if they were weaponized.

  “Rebecca Dryer has declared war against… well, everyone who isn’t MOME, really,” I said, to no one in particular.

  Sol smiled then, and grabbed my hand, and Seamus piled his hand on top.

  “Well, she really picked the wrong people to fuck with, didn’t she?”

  “I DIDN’T EXPECT to see you again,” said a south London accent, somewhere behind me.

  I jumped nearly a foot in the air. I hadn’t expected to find them so easily.

  I turned, my vision sweeping past the strange orange sky dotted with purple clouds, lowering to a low grey rock as I took a reluctant breath of sulphur-tinged air. My eyes settled on a small, ugly rodent with red skin and glowing eyes.

  “I can see why you wanted to return to Earth so badly,” I said, smiling at the small creature, that sat on the low stone in front of me. “But I’m not sure why you came back here so soon after you arrived.”

  Azrael huffed.

  “I wasn’t exactly keen on returning here, but it was better than the alternative.”

  “Which was?” I asked.

  “Continuing to spy on you and your mates,” they replied.

  I wasn’t sure if they meant my friends, or my romantic-partners-as-decided-by-Gaia, but since they were largely the same group of people, I decided it didn’t matter.

  “And sabotage us?” I guessed, thinking of the fire at my old house in Colorado.

  Azrael shrugged.

  “If necessary. MOME wasn’t specific about the particulars, but that angry woman with a stick up her arse wanted to know what you were up to and wanted you out of the way if possible.”

  “Sounds like Dryer,” I said. “So why’d you come back here?”

  “I only agreed because she sicced a mob of bloody vampires on me, and threatened to do the same again, if I didn’t cooperate.”

  I considered that.

  “Vampires don’t seem to pose much trouble for you,” I offered.

  “Not a lone vampire in the woods who isn’t expecting me, no. But a damned bunch of trained ones, yeah. Vampires are—never mind. I don’t owe you an explanation.”

  It was my turn to shrug.

  “I suppose not, but I still don’t understand why you’re here and not on Earth, tailing us and stirring up trouble. Setting houses on fire, or whatever—”

  “I didn’t—” Azrael let out a long sigh and then started again. “Look. I was fine with the idea of keeping a couple of kids out of Dryer's way, yeah? But I am not interested in blowing up cities full of humans, or stripping people of their dark matter to do it, alright? Dryer crossed the line, and I’d rather starve here in the Wastelands than help with that kind of thing. You may hate me for what I’ve done already, I wouldn’t blame you, but even a succubus has morals.”

  That made me smile, and I remembered the shadow I had almost followed in the Dragon Realm, just before we’d gone to La Paz the second time.

  “Besides,” Azrael continued, “I saw what you were doing to help, and I suspect you might be the only thing standing between Dryer and full control of the realms we know.”

  “Well,” I said, reaching out a hand towards the creepy demonic squirrel body that offered such a stark contrast to the angelic forms Azrael could take on Earth, “if that’s how you feel about it, I have a proposition for you, Az.”

  “Oh, and what’s that?” The squirrel asked, sniffing my hand skeptically.

  “I need help taking down Rebecca Dryer, and everyone who supports her,” I said.

  “Oh, is that all?” Azrael said, frowning their little squirrel mouth at me.

  “That’s the short version, yeah.”

  My hand still lingered in the air between us.

  Azrael leapt, clung to my arm, and then ran across my shoulders to perch beside my head.

  “Well, go on then.”

  VICTORIA MARMOT

  and the

  DRAGON’S RAGE

  Virginia McClain

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover design by Natasha Snow

  Copyright © 2019 Virginia McClain

  All rights reserved.

  To Mom, for never giving up.

  THE ALLEY WAS as dark as an elephant’s asshole. I mean, not that I’m super familiar with an elephant’s asshole or anything, but you know… it’d be dark, probably, and wet, and smell like feces, so… pretty close to the alley I was currently standing in. Although I’d wager that the elephant would have to be in extremely ill health to have as much standing water lying around inside of it as this alley did. Ok, the simile falls apart at some point, so sue me. I’m not a writer, I’m just a teenager.

  Well, “just” may not be the best qualifier for someone who can turn into a snow leopard and also a dragon but… Gwendamnit, narrating is hard.

  Look, the alley was dark and wet and I was standing there, surrounded by concrete and refuse, looking around like a dazed meerkat, wishing I had a wand or some shit, so that I could just tap a brick and disappear into Diagon Alley or whatever, but no. Nothing in my life was that easy. There was no wand, there was no half-giant to show me the ropes, there was just me and elephant-ass alley, and a weird tingly feeling in the skin of my hands that got stronger in certain directions and weaker in others. Hence, why I was doing a slow-motion, arrhythmic version of thriller.

  As I stepped in yet another puddle and my nostrils informed me that it was a puddle comprised almost entirely of human urine with perhaps a sprinkling of vomit, I decided that I really wasn’t a city person.


  “Any luck, Gatita?” came a voice from farther down the alley.

  “Depends,” I said, trying not to retch as I took in enough air to speak, “on what you mean by luck. If you mean have I found the seam, then no. If you mean have I stepped in a statistically disproportionate amount of human excrement? Then yes. Yes, lots of luck.”

  Sol laughed, and I smiled at the sound, even if nothing else about this scenario was amusing to me.

  “You’re awfully squeamish for an outdoors-woman.”

  “Fuck that,” I said, turning to glare in Sol’s direction, even though it was too dark to see her from where I stood. “I will pick up scat and rub it in my hands to tell you how long ago the nearest mountain lion passed by, sew a gaping wound shut with nothing but a hotel sewing kit, and make a tourniquet out of sticks to set a protruding bone back in place, if I have to. But humans in the city are fucking gross.”

  For some reason that made Sol laugh even louder.

  “I won’t argue with that, but I think we’re gross everywhere. It’s just that there are more of us in the city.”

  Which was a fair point, and really, La Paz seemed to be no grosser than any other city I’d ever been in—if anything it was cleaner than a few I’d visited—but that wasn’t a point my urine-coated self was willing to concede at the moment. Sol had grown up in La Paz, and had an easy confidence here that I envied at times. I could lead us through the remote parts of the Andes that sheltered her family cabin, and the Colorado Rockies might as well have been my backyard, but I was… less useful in the hustle and bustle of just under a million people.