The Vampire Touch 3: A New Dawn

by Sarah J. Stone

  “Oh, God,” she whimpered, as he put a hand on her shoulder. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

  “It's OK, Enya,” he said, kissing the back of her head. “It's OK.”

  Finally, she fell backwards onto the pillow. Her head was throbbing, and her mouth felt like sawdust. He managed to find a water bottle, handing it to her to take small sips.

  “If I was flying the plane, this never would have happened,” he growled. “Some people just weren't meant to fly.”

  “Could we do that with you as a dragon?” she asked. “Fly long distances like this?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “It's absolutely possible. But I can't go as fast as this, of course. By myself, it's fine. But if you were to ride on my back, it might not be so pleasant.”

  “You did seem pretty cuddly, though, when you transformed,” she put the water bottle down on the bedside table. “Should we call someone to clean up?”

  “I think you should rest.” He pulled her back into his arms. “We can deal with things like that later.”

  She sighed, curling into his side.

  “This is what it's going to be like,” she said. “The whole time. Things are going to be fine and wonderful, and then my body is going to rebel against me.”

  “Well,” he replied, “we will deal with those things when they come up. For now, everything will be fine, alright, my love?”

  “Where did they teach you such compassion?” she asked. “In prince school?”

  “Compassion?” the word surprised him. “Most people on my planet say that I have no compassion.”

  “Well, they are wrong,” she said. “Of course, you do.”

  Even after she slipped back into sleep, he contemplated the word.

  Compassion.

  There had been so many times that the people he had helped slaughter in battle begged him to have some. He and his brothers had been heroes on one side. But there were others who called him a villain, who called him a monster.

  Yet, here was this innocent-hearted girl who called him compassionate, who snuggled up to him like he was the safest place in the whole world.

  When they finally landed, he was sober, but his head was a million miles away. He wanted to hear her say it again–that he was compassionate, that he was kind, that he was not the monster they screamed he was.

  “Do you think you could help me?” she asked, as they waited to exit the plane.

  “With?” he asked, standing at the door, waiting for the signal.

  “I feel like my legs might collapse if I walk right now,” she said, and he turned around in alarm.

  “Enya?” he asked, in concern. “What can I do? How can I help?”

  “Don't look so worried,” she said. “This just happens sometimes. Especially after I throw up, I get so shaky.”

  “Tell me what to do,” he said, plainly. She gritted her teeth, and it was clear that she hated admitting weakness. But at this moment, she had no choice.

  “Just ask them if they could get a wheelchair,” she said. He cocked his head, the word unfamiliar. They had been through this a few times, and she stayed still, looking him right in the eye. “Wheelchair.”

  “Wheelchair,” he repeated, just as their private attendant came in.

  “My girlfriend needs a wheelchair.”

  That startled Enya more than the speed of the attendant entering the room.

  “Do you know what that word means?” she asked as they were left alone.

  “Wheelchair?” he asked.

  “Girlfriend,” she replied.

  “Oh,” he colored at that. “It was the easiest word. I didn't want...I mean... I wanted to honor you, so that people knew you weren't just my mistress.”

  She laughed at that.

  “Things are different on Earth. No one would think that. I supposed that they would think that of a Prince, but here you're just normal. We're just two young people traveling.”

  “Normal.” He smirked at that. “I don't think anyone has ever described me using that word. If they have, it's usually proceeded by ‘why can't you be...’”

  “My mother used to ask me that all the time as well,” she said. “Especially when everyone else around me would get a cold, and I would get bronchitis or something.”

  “Do I want to know what that is?” he asked, as the attendant arrived with a wheelchair.

  “No,” she answered. “You do not want to know what that is.”

  They had a layover between Belgium and Spain, which Enya had originally thought was going to be an easy transition. But she could see there was something wrong as soon as they got out into the main section of the airport.

  Nearly everyone was crowded around a single board, and she could see red on it everywhere.

  “Uh oh,” she replied. “Push me closer.”

  “If you tell me what to look for....”

  “I could, but it's complicated,” she said, and so he obliged. As soon as she scanned the board, she realized what was happening. There must be a problem at the highest level, for everything said ‘Delayed’ or ‘Canceled.’

  “Excuse me, sir?” she turned to the man next to her. “Do you know why everything is lit up?”

  “Problem with air traffic control,” he replied. “Could be hours, or could be a minute.”

  “Amazing,” she said, and turned to Cole. “Alright. We better find some place to settle down.”

  “What's air traffic control?”

  “Don't worry about it.” She could explain everything to him, but it seemed an insurmountable task at this point. She was already incredibly weary after a transatlantic flight. She couldn't imagine how she might have felt had they not had a bed. Last night had been mostly amazing, but it certainly hadn't been restful. “All you need to know is that until it's fixed, no one in this entire airport is going anywhere.”

  “This does not inspire confidence in humans,” he said, as he found them a bench. “It's also incredibly frustrating. I can fly.”

  “You can't fly,” she pointed out. “Not unless your magic has returned.”

  She lowered her voice when she realized she was getting a few stares from people around her.

  He laid a hand over hers. “Even if it has, I'd want to preserve it for you. I hate that you don't feel well and I can do nothing about it.”

  She gave him a soft smile.

  “It's kind of you. But I'd feel better if we could just get to our destination. Airports aren't exactly designed for comfort, so perhaps the wait won't be long.”

  “Is there another way?” he asked, and she shook her head.

  “No. We need a plane, unless we enjoy 48 hours of boats, trains, and walking.”

  “Humans are dumb,” he said, and she chuckled.

  “They don't teach you much patience, do they?”

  “I'm a Prince,” he reminded her. “We never had to wait for anything.”

  “But you're...,” her face contorted. “Are you immortal?”

  “No,” he answered, softly. “My lifespan will be far longer than yours, but we can perish, and eventually, we do grow old.”

  “Are you old, though?” she asked. These were all things she had wondered many times before, but never got around to asking. Now, it seemed as if they had all the time in the world.

  “No,” his answer surprised her. “Not even for a human.”

  She met his eyes.

  “So, you can probably guess what my next question is going to be.”

  “32,” he answered. “Exactly as I appear.”

  “Huh,” she leaned back. “I expected you to say 292 or something. That's not bad at all.”

  “It's the age of majority,” he replied. “Which is probably why my father chose this year to tell me the truth. He thought I could handle everything I knew being a lie easily when I reached majority. Turns out, it's harder the longer you believe a lie.”

  “Cole,” she squeezed his hand. “We all make our own path in life.”

  “My Enya,” he answ
ered. “So ridiculously positive, even though we're stuck in a God-forsaken place.”

  She glanced around. “We could go shopping. I have a bit of room left on my credit card, and I've never shopped in an airport before.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Why? Are things different here?”

  “It's the experience,” she said, and he rolled his eyes but rose to oblige her. At that point, his heart would have given her anything that she wanted. He dreaded spending time in this place. It seemed overly chaotic, tempers were running high, and everywhere he looked felt dirty. The effect on Enya's fragile state was not going to be a good one.

  As the hours ticked by, it was exactly as he feared. They lost their spots on the bench, long since taken after a shopping spree. Despite his better judgment, he let himself be convinced to sit on the floor, so she could lie in his lap. He wasn't quite sure that she was sleeping, but she was quiet, still, and her body warmed as she snuggled against him.

  Eventually, an announcement came over the PA, offering to re-book flights for the following days. But by the time he got the front of the line, they only had seats for two days down the road.

  “It'll be fine,” Enya said, barely sitting up when he returned. “We can explore Belgium. Unless you have a time limit?”

  “I don't,” he answered, crouching down to meet her eyes. “But I am concerned about you.”

  “One last time,” she said, with a smile. “To have an adventure and act normal before you take over the world. What do you say?”

  If it was anyone else, he would have smote them. But instead, he leaned forward, kissing her soft lips.

  “One last time it is, then,” he said, pulling back. But, he worried it would be more than just one last chance for a normal life. Perhaps this would be one last chance at life itself.

  Chapter 9

  She fiddled on her phone as he returned with the luggage they had collected. “There’s a hotel downtown that's pretty cheap. Right off the train station, and then we could be close to all the sights.”

  “I shudder at the word ‘cheap,’” he said, crouching down to look at the picture. “And if you don't want to vomit now, I'm sure you will by the time we get in there. There must be something better.”

  “Again, room on my credit card,” she answered. “Unless you can conjure up some compulsive magic.”

  He flexed his hand, thinking. He really didn't want to use an ounce of the returning magic in case she needed him. At this point, though, he wasn't sure he could convince any innkeeper to even give them a smile.

  “It will be good for you to see how the other half lives.” She smiled.

  “I don't like it,” he said. “But then, I haven't liked much since I came here, apart from you. Tell me which way to go.”

  “Um.” She glanced at her phone and coughed. “We have to catch the train downtown, I think it connects to the airport. This way, up a flight.”

  “Sir, do you need any help?” a porter stopped them, pointed at the bags, and Cole realized it was going to be quite a challenge. Everything was a challenge in this human form, and what frustrated him the most was everyone else seemed to be managing quite well. It was as if they spent half their lives pulling roll-away suitcases through airports. Enya not being stable on her feet presented a problem at this moment, but it was more than that. This human form was weak–physically, and emotionally. He never felt so strongly swayed by another being when he was a dragon. He didn't know how to deal with his feelings half the time. Of all the challenges he expected to meet on Earth, this was not one of them.

  “I uh...,” he looked to Enya.

  “It's alright,” she said, reaching for Cole's hand and using his weight to struggle up. “We'll manage. Won't we?”

  “Will we now?” He kissed the top of her head, “I guess we will.”

  Her sense of direction seemed to have improved since the night of the ball, and she figured out how to buy tickets and board the train. He had one arm wrapped around her waist, and they both pulled a suitcase onto the crowded train. He felt like such a commoner and such a failure as she curled against his chest. The countryside of Belgium flew by as they passed the few stops to downtown.

  “Have you ever been here before?” he asked her, and she shook her head.

  “No. I've flown at home, but never across the ocean. I've always imagined Europe as a place with great castles from fairy tales. I suppose they are around here somewhere.”

  “Pardon, Madame. Est-ce que cette place est occupée?”

  “Non,” she answered the stranger without a second thought, waving her hand as he sat down. Cole raised an eyebrow at her.

  “French,” she said. “They speak French in Belgium.”

  “Excellent,” he said, leaning his head against the window behind them. “I'm stuck in a country I don't intend to be in, for two days, and they speak a language I don't know.”

  “They speak Dutch, too,” she replied.

  “Oh, that makes things so much better.” He rolled his eyes.

  She clung to his waist. “Cole, we only have two days. Let's make it the best two days either of us have ever had. Think back. What was the best day of your life? We'll re-create it.”

  He looked down at her eager face, despite her tired eyes, and couldn't help but smile. He didn't want to appear so sentimental, so emotional, but there was only one answer that had truth in its words. There were happy memories with his brothers at home, laughter in his days. Despite being the black sheep and often in trouble, his life hadn't been terrible. But there was nothing that stood out as the best day of his life until he met her. That was a day he would remember, no matter how many days he lived. So, he gave the simplest answer he could.

  “Walking in the park,” he said, and she took it at face value.

  “They have parks here, I think,” she said, as the train chugged along.

  “And you, my dear?” he asked. “What was the happiest day of your life?”

  She looked up to meet his eyes and said words that warmed his heart.

  “I think that a park would suit me just well. Just walking, just sitting, and just being. No stress, no pressure, no school. Just me and you.”

  The train signboard announced their next stop and they rose, his arm still around her waist. Looking around, he saw other couples just like them–young, tired, burdened down with baggage and yet happy. No one gave them a second glance; no one even blinked an eye.

  Anonymous in a crowd–no one bowing down to him. No one fearing him. It was surprisingly refreshing.

  The hotel was exactly as he feared it was. It wasn't the worst thing he had ever seen. There weren't bugs or dirt. But the room was small and cramped, and he didn't get the feeling of comfort or luxury, Enya sank onto the sheets though, her head happy to be on a soft surface.

  Deciding to put his thoughts aside, he crawled onto the bed over her, smiling devilishly as he kissed her. Her body reacted, arching up to meet his.

  “Mmm,” she said, as he lay beside her. “I feel so gross. But that was nice.”

  “You're not gross,” he assured her. “That plane shower was quite the thing, wasn't it?”

  She chuckled.

  “What's the plan?” she asked. “Short nap and then explore?”

  “If you're feeling well enough,” he said, “then I'd love to. But if not, we can do whatever you desire. Do you need some food?”

  “I don't know,” she squeezed his hand. “I just need you.”

  “Mmm,” he lay his head on her stomach, calmed by her breathing.

  “You don't mind, do you?” she asked, tangling her hands in his hair. He had never felt anything more glorious in his life. “That we're a bit delayed?”

  He could barely form words as she scratched his head. He could waste his whole life lying here, having her touch him.

  “No,” he said, as tingles ran up and down his spine. “Not for just two days.”

  “What will it be like when you take over?” she
asked.

  He raised his head. “What do you mean?”

  “It won't be some biblical tale of terror, will it? Humans enslaved and a reign of fire?”

  He once thought that it would be exactly that. But her shining eyes changed his mind every moment.

  “No,” he said. “But even you must agree that there are things on your planet that need fixing and that need a strong leader.”

  “Yes,” she said. “There's so much chaos and destruction, and I have often wished for unity.”

  “You will have nothing to fear from me,” he promised her. “How could you even think otherwise?”

  “I suppose I wonder what my place will be,” she said. “Will I go back to my old life, just healthier? Or do you have other plans?”

  “There will be a place for you,” he promised her. His heart was breaking at what he wanted to tell her. But he couldn't. Not yet. He couldn't promise her the whole world, not when he had been so broken. The thought of betrayal outweighed the love he was feeling. “But this is not the time to worry. I thought we were going to spend two days being normal.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Is that what we're calling it?”

  “Yes,” he snuggled onto her flat stomach. Their hands were tangled together as the sunlight streamed in through the window, warming them both up. “What's the most normal thing you can think of, since you obviously don't want to get up?”

  “Ordering pizza and watching a movie?” she suggested and he smiled as he rose.

  “Consider it done.” He glanced from the television to the phone. “As soon as you teach me how to do both those things.”

  That made her laugh out loud, and she propped herself up on her pillows.

  “Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” she teased him.

  In the end, it was the most normal evening of his life, and the happiest. They didn't leave the hotel room all day, snuggled in each other's arms. They watched hours of stupid TV, making fun of whatever they saw. The pizza was delicious, and after dinner, they made love for an hour–lazily and happily.

  He knew there was a whole world out there with so many things that had to be done. But he was content here and now.

  But in the middle of the night, he got up, sliding slowly away from her arms to gaze out the window.