Fire Marked

by Val St. Crowe

  This time it was too fast for Lachlan to move.

  Phelan tackled the Lachlan, knocking the broader man to the ground. He struggled to put his knees against Lachlan’s chest, holding the broader man down. Phelan wrapped his hands around the broader man’s neck. The taller man squeezed.

  Lachlan’s face got red. His eyes were bulging, his tongue protruding from his mouth.

  I rush forward. No, no, no. I wouldn’t let this happen. I summoned my magic, summoned every bit of magical energy that I had—

  And Lachlan raised his hands and gestured.

  Magic flew into Phelan, throwing the taller man back against a tree trunk.

  Lachlan got to his feet. He massaged his neck. His nostrils flared, but other than that, there was no sign of emotion about him.

  Phelan threw out an arm, his face screwed up as if he was concentrating. He was trying to send magic at Lachlan, trying to move the broader man down.

  But Lachlan stood his ground, staring him down mildly. His magic was more powerful than Phelan’s. He was fighting off the other man’s attempts to move him.

  Phelan let out a gasping sound and let his hand drop.

  Lachlan made a casual gesture with one hand.

  And Phelan thudded against the ground. He let out an audible huff.

  Lachlan used magic to pick him up again and then hurl him down into the dirt again. Lachlan did it over and over, and Phelan’s nose started to bleed.

  I chewed on my lip. This was it, then. It would be over soon, wouldn’t it? He was going to—

  But Phelan lifted his head up from where he lay in the dirt before Lachlan could pick the taller man up again. Phelan pointed at Lachlan.

  Magic hit Lachlan hard. He stumbled.

  Phelan scrambled to his feet and sprinted for Lachlan, raising a fist as he did.

  Lachlan turned away from the taller man.

  But Phelan landed a punch on Lachlan’s side.

  Lachlan absorbed the impact, holding his ground.

  Phelan balled up his fist again and drove it into Lachlan’s stomach.

  Lachlan doubled over.

  Phelan used the moment of Lachlan’s lack of concentration to pick the broader man up and and propel his body through the air.

  Lachlan sailed through the air and landed in the lake. His body went under and didn’t resurface.

  Phelan stalked to the edge of the water, his expression screwed-up in concentration. He was using magic to keep Lachlan underwater.

  Now, vampires couldn’t really drown, not exactly, but they could be badly affected by water. They could suck it inside their lungs. They could be rendered unconscious. Breathing was an instinct for vampires, even if they didn’t technically need to do it. It was only a matter of time before Lachlan wouldn’t be able to take it anymore. He’d tell himself not to, but he’d open his mouth, he’d breathe in the water, and then he’d be helpless against Phelan.

  His body would float to the surface, and Phelan would take off his head.

  Right now, I could see Phelan’s expression, triumphant and leering.

  Well, I wasn’t going to let that happen. I rushed down to the lake, throwing magic into the water.

  But wherever my magic hit, nothing was there except water. Where was Lachlan? He’d fallen out there somewhere, I was sure of it. If I could just find him…

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lachlan surfaced, gasping, mere feet away from the place where I’d been searching for him.

  I let out a sound, something like a sob, or maybe a whoop. I wasn’t sure.

  Lachlan saw me. Our eyes locked for a second.

  I mouthed at him, “I love you.”

  He turned back to Phelan grimly. Lachlan waded up out of the lake, water dripping off of his chin and running in rivulets over the muscles in his chest.

  Phelan snarled at him, like an animal. He bared his fangs.

  Lachlan showed his teeth too.

  The two men rushed at each other, like mad beasts in the wild. They collided, and there was a blur of tangled limbs as they grappled each other.

  Then they were on the ground, rolling over and over. Phelan’s teeth were in Lachlan’s skin.

  Lachlan was bleeding, was yelling.

  I tensed, clenching my jaw.

  And then Lachlan was on top of Phelan, pinning him to the ground with his thighs. He thrust his hand forward, stopping a hairbreadth from Phelan’s nose, and made a twisting motion.

  Phelan’s neck twisted. His head jerk violently to the side.

  Lachlan twisted his hand again.

  Phelan’s head twisted backward—unnaturally. There was a cracking sound.

  A scream from someone gathered.

  Lachlan’s nostrils flared. He gritted his teeth in concentration and twisted again. And again.

  And Phelan’s neck twisted and twisted, the skin tearing, his blood spurting… Until it twisted right off.

  A low sound of shock rippled through the gathered members of the clan.

  Lachlan stared down at Phelan’s body for a few seconds, breathing hard. Then he stood up, his chest covered in a sheen of sweat and spatters of Phelan’s blood. The setting sun caught his hair, and it gleamed. He looked like some kind of conquering ancient god. My mouth was dry.

  He stared down at the bloody remains of his opponent. Then he raised his gaze to the surrounding people. “The challenge has been fulfilled. Is the clan satisfied or do more wish to take up the challenge?”

  No one said anything.

  Lachlan stepped over Phelan’s body and headed back into the woods.

  Everyone else watched him go.

  After several moments, I forced my legs to work and I went after him.

  * * *

  He was in the kitchen of the camper when I got there, dripping all over the linoleum. He was gripping the counter, bent down and trying to steady his breath.

  I walked up behind him, putting my hand on his back.

  He was firm and slippery and warm.

  I put my other hand on him too. I ran my fingers over his rib cage, moving higher to his muscular shoulders.

  He let out a strangled sound.

  I pressed my body against him, my clothes getting wet from the river water and his sweat.

  He sighed. He smelled earthy and masculine.

  I lay my cheek against his bare skin.

  He turned, his skin sliding against my skin, against my wet clothes.

  I looked up at him.

  He threaded his hands through my hair and searched my eyes with his own.

  I pressed my palm into his chest and dragged it down over his stomach. I went lower and lower until I found the button to his jeans. They were sopping wet and heavy. My fingers fumbled there. I needed to use my other hand, but I got the button undone.

  He sucked in breath.

  I unzipped his pants, and I reached inside until I found him.

  He was soft but stiffening.

  I wrapped my hand around him and he lengthened and hardened as I began to stroke him.

  His breath hitched.

  I looked into his eyes.

  He gazed back at me, his jaw working. His hands were still tangled in my hair. He began to massage his fingers against my skull in the same rhythm as my strokes.

  I closed my eyes. His fingers sent little trails of warmth and pleasure down my spine.

  He kissed me. His mouth was rough and wet.

  I moaned against his tongue.

  Suddenly, he moved his hands. He picked me up, hauling me up to sit on the counter.

  I lost my grip on his erection.

  He spread my legs and he stood between my thighs. His unzipped wet jeans slid over his hips and pooled around his ankles. He was bare and glorious.

  Now I could see him, and I wanted to touch him again. I reached for him.

  But he stopped me, pushing my skirt up to my hips, his hands on my skin, his hands between my legs.

  I gasped.

  He yanked on my panties.
<
br />   They ripped.

  He threw them out of the way.

  I reached for him again.

  He let me, closing his eyes as my fingers wrapped around his hardness.

  I guided him to the center of me.

  He buried himself in me in one swift stroke.

  I cried out, throaty and raw.

  He put his lips to my neck as he began to move inside me.

  I dug my fingers into his shoulders. It felt good. So, so good.

  “Me inside you,” he muttered, his teeth scraping the flesh of my throat. “You inside me.” And then he broke the skin with his fangs, and my blood was flowing into him.

  And the world was ours. Every bit of it, as the colors grew bright—too bright—like a photograph that was overexposed, and I was flung into bright, hot pleasure, that was building and building and building…

  Until it shattered me with fierce sweetness.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Later, we lay in the bed in the back of the camper, which was where we’d ended up. I wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten into me. Something about Lachlan fresh from a victory like that had been incredibly sexy. I couldn’t quite explain it, but it had seeded in me like some ancestral memory, some old dance that had been played out since before the dawn of time. He was so… male.

  The whole fighting thing was stupid, though. And this place was insane.

  But…

  There was something about living like this, something simple and pure and ferocious, and it was taking root inside me against my better judgment.

  So, as we lay there together, still naked, spooning, his hands on my belly, his chin resting on my shoulder, I whispered, “You wanted to know how far I was willing to go?”

  “Shh, Penny,” he said. “I said that when I was angry.”

  “No,” I said. “You were right. I was holding back. But not anymore. I’m willing to go all the way. Whatever it takes. The only line I won’t cross is hurting the baby or you. Because that’s all that’s important. Everything else is just noise.”

  “Penny…” He sighed. He kissed my neck.

  I sighed. I closed my eyes.

  “You, me, and the baby,” he said. “And everything else can go to hell.”

  “Yes,” I said, wriggling closer to him, wanting us closer.

  He groaned and stopped my movement. “Stop pressing your ass against my cock,” he growled in my ear.

  I laughed softly. “Suddenly that’s a bad thing?”

  “I’m going to want you again.”

  “Mmm,” I breathed. “Maybe I want you too.”

  He let out another gruff noise, his fingers digging into my hips, his pelvis rocking into me.

  And I could feel him now. He was insistent and hard and—

  Something hit the top of the trailer. There was a thud overhead, and then a scratching noise, like the sound of…

  Talons. Dragon claws against the metal roof.

  We both froze.

  “It’s a rogue,” I whispered.

  “It’s got great timing,” Lachlan mumbled, peeling himself away from me.

  I sat up too, casting about for some clothing. I didn’t know what had happened to what I was wearing, but it had been all wet and dirty anyway. I was going to need other clothes. Something from the closet.

  Lachlan was already up, tugging on a new pair of jeans. “No, stay here. I’ll take care of it.”

  “With what?” I said, heading over to my closet. “They made you turn your gun back in when you took leave.”

  “I’ve got magic,” he said.

  It was true that he’d just drunk a lot of my blood.

  “We’ll do better together,” I said. “Besides it’s just going to come after me, anyway. What if it busts out a window in the camper or something because I’m hiding in here?”

  Above us, the scraping noise got more intense, as if the rogue was trying to peel up the roof of the camper like it was a can and the dragon was a can opener. I was the yummy treat inside. Well, no thank you. I was getting out of this death trap. I threw on a pair of pants and a shirt, and I started for the door.

  Lachlan was right behind me. “Come on, at least let me go first.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. “Okay.” I stepped into the kitchen and let him get in front of me.

  He pushed the door open and went outside.

  I walked out behind him.

  The rogue was on top of the trailer all right. It was a big one, and it looked like a sleek black serpent with wings in the darkness. It saw us, and it opened its jaws. Fire leaked out, illuminating its sharp teeth. Embers glowed in in its throat.

  We both jumped back.

  I reached for Lachlan’s hand. “Let’s just burn it.”

  His fingers wrapped around mine.

  We reached into our shared power, finding the white-hot burst of stormy power we could access together.

  But the rogue leaped over our heads and landed behind us.

  We whirled, losing our grip on each other’s hand.

  The dragon blew out a wall of flame.

  We stumbled backwards, avoiding it.

  The rogue flapped its wings, took to the air. It flew above the woods and then dove down into the trees, disappearing from sight.

  I turned to Lachlan. “What do you think that’s about? It’s running away from me? Why is it doing that?” They had never done that before.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, but we can’t just assume it’s gone. It might come back.”

  “You think we should go after it?”

  “I’ll do it,” he said. “You can go back into the trailer.”

  “I’m already out here,” I said. “Let’s just go.” I gestured in the direction the dragon had gone. “Let’s go find it.”

  We took off for the woods, moving past the dark shapes of the RVs and campers that were parked up and down the rows of the campground. No one else in the Bryant clan seemed to be awake, so it was like moving through some abandoned place, as if all the people were gone and had left behind these hulking, shadowy vehicles.

  It was quiet except for the distant sound of some chirping insects. The air was quite cool.

  I shivered. Goosebumps appeared on my arms.

  When we moved into the woods, it was even darker. Now there was nothing to see but the barest outline of black tree trunks, the leaves and branches obscuring the night sky except for a few hints of midnight blue sky peering out here and there.

  The breeze came through, shaking the tree branches, rustling the undergrowth.

  I hugged myself.

  Where was the damned dragon?

  Lachlan spoke, his voice a grating whisper. “I think it came down somewhere in that direction.” He pointed.

  We started to walk that way, picking our way between the trees.

  Old, dead leaves crunched under our feet.

  The dragon was going to hear us coming.

  A noise.

  Crunching leaves, quick and fast, coming from straight ahead.

  We moved faster, ready to intercept the dragon.

  Only to have a deer streak past, running haphazardly through the forest.

  I let out a little yelp of surprise.

  Lachlan grabbed me, pulling me close. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” I said. “Just startled.”

  He seized my hand. “It’s out here somewhere. It’s close.”

  Was it close? I peered around at the tree trunks, the cold darkness of the woods seeming to close in on me, and I wondered if the dragon was just circling us, toying with us…

  “It wouldn’t leave you,” Lachlan said. “It’s drawn to you.”

  That was right. That monster with black eyes and glowing teeth was attracted to me for some unknown reason, and it was going to have me, no matter what.

  I felt trapped, suddenly. Maybe it was the darkness, which seemed to be wrapping tighter and tighter around me. Or maybe it was the woods, the way it seemed to close me in. Maybe i
t was only the knowledge that I was prey.

  I was the hunted one.

  I didn’t like that feeling.

  I gathered up fire inside me. I wanted to prove to myself that I was powerful and strong.

  Because right now I felt weak and afraid.

  Abruptly, the dragon surged out of the woods to our left. It leapt through the air, growling, and it tackled Lachlan.

  I shrieked.

  Lachlan fell down on his back beneath the dragon, which was digging its claws into Lachlan’s stomach.

  I could see blood—smell blood.

  “No!” I blew out fire, all of the fire I’d gathered up, to hell with whether it broke my cover or not.

  The fire glanced off the dragon’s scales like it was nothing.

  I was an idiot. I should have known— I was a dragon myself. Regular fire wouldn’t be enough.

  Lachlan struggled against the dragon.

  But it had its claws in his skin, raking furrows in his chest.

  Lachlan let out an agonized cry.

  I flung magic at the dragon. I picked it up and pulled it off Lachlan’s body. I threw it into the forest on its back, its belly exposed.

  I knelt over Lachlan, my hands fluttering over his wounds. He was bleeding so much. Tears sprang to my eyes. “Oh, God. You’re—”

  “Penny!” he said in a scratchy voice.

  The dragon was coming for us again.

  He leaned into me, touching me wherever he could, and I felt him grab for our shared magic.

  I joined him, putting my determination behind it.

  The power burst out of us, white-hot and bright, a roaring pillar of intensity.

  It caught the dragon right under its chin, and its head vaporized in the middle of the white beam, which kept going, singeing branches, tree trunks, and leaves.

  We let go of each other’s hands.

  The power cut off.

  The dragon’s headless body thudded against the ground.

  I gasped.

  Lachlan grunted.

  I turned back to him. “Oh, God. You’re hurt. You’re bleeding.”

  He flopped back on the forest floor. “I’ll heal,” he murmured. He grunted again.

  * * *

  I used magic to float Lachlan back to the campground. We were met at the edge of the tree line by Jackal.

  “What the fuck was that?” said Jackal.