by Sophia North
Mariam looked over her shoulder at him, her cornflower blue eyes twinkling in merriment. "Hrmph, I should have been more specific...there are none anyone can access except me."
The trio walked along the carved path for what felt like miles, until reaching an old oak door.
Turning to Vlad, Mariam asked, "Where would you like to go? Mind, you must be very specific when naming the place. General descriptions tend to have mixed results."
Vlad gave the door a suspicious glance. "What is this? A rendition of the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe?"
"What do you care if it takes you to where you want to go? Hurry it along, Penny needs you. And remember, Haan now knows we are also seeking the Dragon. He will do everything in his power to find her first."
With only the clothes on his back, Vlad hesitated. He would be entering the world again without one of his most valuable assets.
"Here. You'll be requiring this contraption, I believe," Mariam said, handing Vlad his mobile.
"You read minds well, Mariam."
Mariam bowed her head graciously. "Location?"
"The MacGregor croft in Stonehaven."
She rapped on the door three times. "Please note: this is a one way affair. You will need to find your own mode of travel back."
Vlad had already dialled the number he needed by the time he walked through the door and into the yard of the croft. Above him the night sky glowed with the silvery light of the full moon. "Alfred," he barked into his mobile, "I have need of Zack Bancroft. Get a pen."
Chapter Thirty
PENNY STOMPED HER FOOT. "I won't do it!"
"Oh, aye. I knew it be too good to be true. Me wee Thistle's back to her prickly self," her Gran remarked, a spoonful of broth suspended halfway to her lips. It was hard to believe she'd been at death's door hours earlier. Her pale cheeks were once again rosy, her obstinate chin firmly set in its usual pig-headed way. "Ye must, childe. 'Tis time. Long past. Ye canna run ferever, ye know that."
Penny wanted to snap back 'watch me' but knew it would be futile. Her grandmother would never accept Penny's resistance.
"The curse is nonsense," she snapped petulantly.
Her grandmother's emerald eyes said differently. They narrowed and turned stormy. "Yer mother be proof, tis nae nonsense. And I will nae allow that to happen to ye. I tried to deny the truth, yer mother tried to deny it...and look at the consequences wrought. Ye know I speak the truth...'tis why ye were coming to see me."
Penny swallowed. "I don't know what you mean," she murmured unconvincingly. The last thing she wanted to do was get into that particular discussion right now. She'd been hoping her Gran would be able to tell how to make her emerging powers go away, not unleash them.
"Aye, ye do, Thistle. Yer Dragon nature will not be denied."
Her cheeks flamed red. "I'm no Dragon," she said obstinately, foolishly clinging on to the hope that wishing for it to be true, made it so.
"But ye are," her Gran returned forcefully. Racked by a coughing fit, the old woman laid back in the bed.
Penny rushed to bring her a glass of water. Holding the straw steady, she gazed at the woman who had raised her. How could such a petite woman still command such a hold over her? Most grandchildren her age, not that there were many, would not be so attached to someone from her grandmother’s generation. The world was such a different place now.
Born in nineteen twenty, Esmeralda MacGregor had always been a force of nature. At the age of twenty, she'd signed up to be a nurse in the war, in direct defiance of her father's wishes.
Angus MacGregor had been a simple man. His family meant everything to him. Until one by one they'd all been taken away. First, his wife died giving birth to Esmeralda and later in life, his two sons enlisted in the Highland's Black Watch Regiment and died in France the very first year of World War II.
So when Essie had announced she was shipping out to Normandy, Angus MacGregor disowned her completely in his fury over her defying his expressed orders. But Essie would not be stopped once she made her mind up about something. The loss of her brothers had stirred her into action and during her time at the front she blossomed into an indomitable force that few dared to question.
Known for her skill as a healer, Essie was able to save a soldier's life as easily as seeing him over to the other side, and this made her indispensable to her medical unit.
After the war, she took up residence in Aberdeen as Head Nurse at the local hospital. It wasn't until her father's death in nineteen fifty-two that Essie returned to Stonehaven. She and her father had never seen or spoken to one another again, despite her efforts to reach out.
It was during this visit to the sleepy seaside village that one of the most terrible experiences of her life occurred. Essie had never married, having sworn it off as being too conventional for her. She'd even shocked the town by arriving at her father's funeral on the arm of Rick, an American she'd been living with for almost a year. Essie was definitely a trend-setter.
Staying behind on her own to see to the business of her father's death, Essie had been attacked and raped at the family croft. Nine months later, Penny's mother Caitlyn was born.
Essie could have easily torched the place and walked away from Stonehaven forever. But instead she left her life in Aberdeen to give birth and raise her daughter in the very croft where she'd been defiled. Not that anyone in Stonehaven knew the truth. She'd never reported the rape to the police and most believed Caitlyn was Rick's illegitimate daughter.
As for who the true father of her baby was, no one - not even Penny - knew his identity. Essie had only told her granddaughter about being raped to try and protect Penny from the same fate. Hence, Penny's phobia about unprotected sex was born.
It wasn't that her Gran had meant to put such a fear into her. But Essie's distrust of men left an indelible mark. And the rape, along with her mother's suicide, had only served to cement the notion that MacGregor women ended up cursed for refusing the power of their Dragon bloodline.
"Penelope, yer the greatest gift ever given me. I cherish ye, me wee Thistle. Please do this...fer me. I canna protect ye anymore. Ye must take the power...become the Dragon, as ye have always been destined to be."
With tears streaming down her face, Penny raised her grandmother's frail hand to her cheek. "Very well, Grandmother. For you, I will."
“Be gone now, wee Thistle. The moon nears its apex of power soon. Remember what ye learned, remember who ye be. Remember!” Esmeralda commanded in a low voice.
"LEO! ME PRECIOUS."
With an excited ‘burrrrup’, the tuxedo cat leapt onto Esmeralda's bed, tail up in greeting and purring like a little locomotive.
"Ye come along too, Viking. I can hear ye lurking out there. I promise not to bite."
Vlad froze in the hallway outside Penny's grandmother's door. Not only did the old woman have incredible hearing, she also seemed to know a hell of a lot more about him than was comforting. But then again, he was dealing with an ancient witch bloodline purported to be Dragons. So he should be surprised by nothing.
Vlad took a deep breath. Here goes nothing, he thought, hopefully she won't be able to smote my ass.
"Good evening, Ms MacGregor," he announced, entering her room. “My name is..."
"Viking. And ye may call me, Essie. As ye once did."
Vlad gaped. "Esmeralda! This cannot be happening."
The old woman smirked. "I told ye we'd meet again, Viking. And it's about time ye bleeding well showed up."
"Why, so you can shoot me in the ass again?"
Esmeralda MacGregor let out a wee cackle in delight. "Served ye right. I needed those supplies."
Vlad had played his part in the war effort too. And although their paths crossed only briefly, he had never forgotten Esmeralda, the brave Scottish nurse with other-worldly powers and nerves of steel.
"But this makes you..."
"Oh, aye. Bloody old for a mortal. I’ve changed a bit, eh? ‘Ave you been enjoying me granddaugh
ter, vampyre?"
Vlad grimaced. It wasn't clever to be in Essie's bad graces. "How long have you known about...us?"
"Centuries. But the night we met in Normandy, confirmed it." Was her enigmatic reply.
"Essie, you've always been a mystery. Glad to see old age hasn't dampened the spirit," he teased. Centuries, indeed.
"Nae, Viking. Tis stronger than it's ever been. Which is why ye be here, finally."
Vlad raised a brow. "Penny did mention her family had a chequered past. Is this your way of telling me you're a witch, Essie? Don't worry, I knew that a long time ago."
"Ye know we be more than that. I can see it in the way ye look at me, ye know the truth now. Shame ye ignored yer Viking blood for so lang that it's had to come to this. But who I am to question the why of the three sisters' web."
The conversation had taken a decidedly strange twist. What his Viking blood and three sisters had to do with Penny being a Dragon was beyond him.
"What do you mean 'come to this'? Where's Penny? I thought she'd be here with you."
The heart monitor started to beep erratically. Jesus, why was he being such an argumentative asshole? She was an old woman on her deathbed.
Vlad flashed to her bedside. "Easy, Essie. Let me go find Penny for you, alright?"
Esmeralda waved him closer. "She's gone to take the power...become the Dragon," she gasped, struggling for air. "Dunnottar Castle. Must go to her. I be gone soon. Protect her."
"Let me call for a nurse, a doctor. Essie, don't go. Stay until I fetch Penny. She'll want to say...good bye..."
Grasping Vlad's hand tightly, she whispered, "Make her yours...completely. Tonight. Take her far away, never come back. Promise, Viking. Haan canna have her."
The heart monitor flat-lined. "Essie? Essie!"
Esmeralda was gone. Penny. He had to get to Penny. She was in terrible danger.
After speeding into the night, Vlad's departure brought on a curious effect. The heart monitor started beeping again. Leo purred affectionately at the sound.
Cracking open an eye, Essie smiled. "Leo, me precious. I hope ye remembered the bottle. I feel like celebrating me birthday now."
Chapter Thirty-One
DUNNOTTAR CASTLE SAT atop a rocky cliff staring imperiously out at the churning waters of the North Sea. The fortress dated back as far as the fifth century and boasted that its chapel had been founded by St Columba, Scotland's most famous saint.
A legendary healer and slayer of water beasts, Columba brought his Christian ways to the wild and unruly Northern Picts. Tribes, who in time, became the fierce Highland clans that any sane conqueror feared to face.
Fought over by many great clans, it finally settled into the hands of Clan Keith until it was stripped from the tenth Earl Marischal following his role in the Jacobite Rising of 1715. After which, it fell into ruin.
Penny stood draped in a long crimson robe, its thick folds pooling on the wet cobblestones beneath her feet. Naked beneath the heavily embroidered red velvet, she glanced up at the full moon, noting its position in the sky. The moment of its apex drew nearer, and shining down from on high, its bright light filled the expansive walled grounds of the fortress.
Nestled in a far corner, twelve jagged stones rose majestically in the moonlight, their black granite surfaces catching the silvery light, making them appear like obsidian mirrors.
Crossing the wet grass, the bottom of the cloak became saturated from the recently fallen rain. There had been storms on and off all day. But the moment Penny donned her ceremonial garb, the rain had stopped. The clouds suddenly parted to allow the moon's light to illuminate her way.
The Ancestors were clearly happy that Penny had finally come to take the power, and become the Dragon. Her family's great legacy. Her family's great curse.
Her mother had refused the power when her time came. The result was years of suffering, ending in suicide. The chosen women of the Keith bloodline were never able to break the curse. Turning the power down invoked terrible consequences. Penny had been foolish to think her fate would be any different.
The ancient standing circle loomed in the moonlight. To think she once played here as a child, under grandmother's watchful eye. For her, the circle felt like home. The silly notions of children. Standing stones were strange, mysterious places with equally mysterious purposes. They were no one's home.
Inside the stones, a trickle of childish laughter sounded. Penny's eyes widened, as she scanned the perimeter, searching for its source. None could be found.
Again, a giggle whispered on the wind.
"Och nae, wee Thistle. Do ye want to play a game with yer Gran?"
The interior surfaces of the stones transformed into mirrors where images of Penny's past played. A young girl, with a riotous mop of curly red hair, ran in circles, arms splayed under a bright sunny sky. It was her.
Remember...her Gran's voice whispered in her ear.
Penny's childish voice replied, "I'll play yer game, Gran."
"Then here we go...take this red bit of yarn, and go like this," the much younger version of Penny's grandmother instructed, as she held up her index finger and started wrapping the red string around it. "Now, repeat me words, Thistle. I ask of ye to bind my strength, I ask of ye to bind my breath."
Mini-Penny mimicked her dutifully.
Esmeralda removed a long sharp pin from her pocket.
"I am the Fire, I am the Ice, I am the Power. Heed my words until the hour, I come again and restore the Dragon."
The vision ceased with a bright flash of light, momentarily blinding Penny. How could she have forgotten that day? And yet, until she'd entered the standing stones, the memory of it had remained locked away, deep in her psyche.
Images from her Mystery paintings returned to her, the stone circle...the fortress...the fire. Her obsession with Pagan scenes now made sense. The binding ceremony she'd performed here as a child could only last for so long until her unconsciousness rebelled. And with grandmother's anchoring of the spell now diminishing, the truth would no longer be denied.
Standing at the centre of the circle, Penny watched as storm clouds gathered above, obscuring the face of the moon with their billowing forms.
The night's full moon was special, it was the Paschal Moon...the moon of Passover and Easter. The moon of the Lamb, the sacrifice. The sort of power required to unleash that which had been bound by earth magic.
In the distance, flashes of lightning lit up the sky. Thunder rumbled. The storm was coming. The Dragon was about to rise once more.
Penny lowered the hood of her cloak. Her long, red, unbound hair stirred in the breeze. Her trembling fingers moved to undo the large iron broach of a fire breathing dragon that fastened her cloak. It dropped to pool at her feet.
Her exposed skin goose pimpled but she made no move to cover her nakedness. Adorned by a ruby-encrusted golden girdle, its links hung from her hips to form a 'V' over her womanhood. The intricate goldsmithing on each chain depicted various scenes from dragon folklore.
Raising her hands to the sky, she threw back her head and yelled for the power to come, as her grandmother had once taught her.
The winds began to build at her invocation. The storm had finally arrived and the heavens opened.
VLAD SLAMMED THE BUGATTI Chiron into third as he reopened the throttle. The tight corners of Scottish coastal roads did not allow for high speeds but Vlad pushed the sports car to its limits every opportunity he could. He needed to get to Penny. Fast.
Not usually a fan of foreign abominations masquerading as quality automotive engineering, he had to tip his hat to the Italians occasionally. The speedster took the sharp, slick corners effortlessly.
He'd also have to remember to reward Alfred for his efforts tonight. The car, along with the private jet waiting for him at the airport, had arrived in record time.
The car screeched to a halt at the base of the cliff. The rain fell in torrents now, its heaviness obscuring the dirt path leading up to the c
astle. Thankfully, Vlad did not require sight to find what he searched for, his entire being could feel Penny's presence.
Tearing along the path, he reached the battlements in no time at all. Standing with a foot braced against a low stone wall, Vlad surveyed the wide open space contained within the fortress's crumbling defences.
Drawn to a far corner blanketed in darkness, he felt a presence there. Penny!
In answer to his silent declaration, a flash of lightning broke overhead, exposing the stone circle on the spot where he'd been looking. Focusing his vamp vision, he saw a crumpled form at its centre.
Racing along the crumbling walls of the castle's once impressive defences, Vlad propelled himself from their towering heights to land with a soft thud close to the circle. Without breaking his stride, he was at the centre moments later.
The rain abruptly stopped and the clouds parted once again to allow the light of the full moon to shine. A few feet from him, Penny laid on top of a red garment, her long red hair plastered to her naked body.
Fearful she was hurt or worse, Vlad rushed to her side. Gently lifting her inert body into his arms, he carefully brushed the tangled red locks from her face. "My darling, I'm here...open your eyes, please," he pleaded to her.
Penny stirred. Pressing her cheek into the palm of his hand, she opened her beautiful blue eyes at him. "Vlad...is it really you?"
His heart rejoiced. She was alive! "I'll never leave you again," he whispered, pressing kisses atop of her head and drawing her closer. "I promise."
Penny's body hummed with the power of the dragon. She could feel it rushing through every vein of her body, infusing her with its magic. But the sensation paled in comparison to the desire Vlad's touch unleashed. Her hunger for him was frightening.
Reaching up, she traced the hard contours of his face, her fingers lingering on his full chiselled lips. He was so beautiful, so strong...so hers. "Make me yours, Vlad. Completely," she entreated in his ear. "I need you inside me...I need to be inside of you."