“We’re are in Phuket. About five hundred miles from the Andamans.”
I leaned back in my bed. Khaldon and Harris waved at me. My fingers wiggled back at them, and instantly my anxiety lowered a few notches.
The stench of burned hair permeated my nose and a slight moan parted my lips. How long would it take to grow back?
I closed my eyelids, still so exhausted from the mission. “There were sharks.” My eyes flew open and I sat up bolt-right. “How did we get here?” My heart raced, and I pointed. “They—they were burning under the water.”
“We were saved by Merfolk. They surrounded us and the sharks swam away. We have them to thank for escorting us here to this hospital. Would ye believe there’s a specialty unit for supernaturals and their ailments all the way out here?”
I blinked at him, not sure if I’d heard him right. “Merfolk?”
“Oh, aye.” He nodded, and then he looked at the rest of the team.
“Dakota? We didn’t have time—she blew up—” I could barely choke out the words. “She’s gone.”
“Don’t be worrying yerself right now, lass. You need to tend to healing, ya kin? Be minding yer lucky stars above for these folks over there.” Torchy waved his hand to the nursing staff. “They saved yer vision, and they say after a few more pints of blood, your sight should be fully restored.”
I looked across the room to Briggs, and the four hospital staff members turned to stare at me. One guy had a deep purple black eye. Another orderly had several bite marks on his arms and hands. The woman, whom I suspected was the disembodied voice, held nothing but disdain on her face.
Well … maybe they deserved it for not explaining things to me.
There was nothing more I could do. Torchy was right. I needed more sleep, and the only thing to do was to heal.
I rolled away from him and faced the wall. Privately, I cried myself into oblivion. I had failed my sister, my family. It should have been me who died in that wretched cave.
Even through the tears, there was no peace in the escape of sleep. Only nightmares that had plagued me since Halloween.
* * *
Hauntingly familiar, the creature’s hideous, maniacal laughter crawled a frigid, wet, dead finger up my spine. He forced his hand around my jaw and smashed my lips with his fingers.
The beast bit into my cheek and chin.
I kicked, screamed, thrashed, and struggled in vain to wrench away from his vice-like grip. His hand clamped on my face and sent shattering fractures of pain through my jaw.
Flight or fight. Self-preservation time.
A guttural wail escaped my throat. I pulled my hands free and gouged his face with my fingernails, trying desperately to dig into his eye sockets to blind him.
The cretin’s hands gripped like he wanted to rip off my jaw. He shoved his fingers into my mouth for a better hold. I grabbed his hand and pushed his fingers in deeper. My back molars crunched hard. I ground my jaw back and forth, stripping off flesh between my teeth. His blood gushed into my mouth, filling it with hot, coppery spurts. The beast relinquished his hold with a grunt of pain and let go of my face.
I fell backward, away from him. In an instant, he yanked me up by the arms and shook me like a rag doll. He held me there, panting. Face-to-face.
Time stopped.
For a split moment, milliseconds of reality, his eyes softened. Spider web creases around his eyes made him seem almost human. Glowing vermillion, an intense fire filled them with hatred.
I froze, cemented to the ground.
His eyes met mine once again. They were wide and conscious. At that moment, I emblazoned his image forever on my soul. It was the Red Man from my nightmares.
He seized me by the hair, and his hands stretched my neck in an unnatural arc to the left.
All I could do was watch him in paralytic horror, my heart pounding out of my chest. Black dots clouded my vision. He held my neck on display, his bountiful banquet awaiting him.
I watched as he licked his lips. He tenderly lavished my neck, stroking it, kissing it, basking in his sumptuous feast. His eyes danced time with the throbbing artery pulsing viciously under my skin.
“911—is this an emergency?” The voice from the phone came just in time to hear the devil sink his teeth deep into my neck and attenuate the life force out of me.
* * *
“We’re losing him! We need a dragon donor for adrenaline, or he’s not going to make it.”
I awoke to the anxious voice of the physician treating us at Phuket Hospital. My heart skipped a beat as I listened to Dr. Rattanakosin behind the hanging sheet between our hospital beds.
I tried to sit up, but the silver embedded in my skin had weakened me to the point of exhaustion. We were still in critical condition, even though we had been in the hospital for close to sixteen hours treating each of our specific injuries. Thankfully, my vision had fully returned after I had been given several pints of whole human blood. My head continued to ache from the silver poisoning, and I prayed the dreaded metal hangover would subside soon enough.
I croaked out words to the closed curtain. “Can Torchy donate the adrenaline?”
The curtain inched aside and revealed the doctor who had been treating all of us. Dr. Rattanakosin peered at me through his pop-bottle eyeglasses. His brown eyes were magnified as if they were four inches wide, and his eyebrows bushed out over the top rims. Some of the hairs over three inches long. The doctor opened the flimsy privacy curtain farther.
I urged on his curiosity. “It’s true. The gentleman who brought us in here is another dragon. Can he donate, or do you need a family donor?”
The doctor nodded at his nurse. “See if you can locate Mr. Gravenor.”
Briggs moaned, grinding his teeth against the pain. He looked terrible lying in the fetal position with his nostrils flaring and his jaw clenched. His labored breathing spewed thick spittle across his lips. The bleeding had slowed from his abdomen, but his color was awful. He was beginning to turn shades of green.
“Can you give him something to help him change into his dragon form, so he can heal himself?” I asked the doctor.
“I’m afraid it isn’t that easy, Miss O’Cuinn. You see, he has been gouged with a dragon scythe. These are elusive, magical blades. I’ve never seen one until tonight, but I’ve read about them in my medical journals.”
“What does that mean? That the scythe blade took away his ability to shift?” I heard Harris ask from across the room. His voice thick and labored since his lips were swollen.
“What it means is that the magical scythe has damaged his internal energy core vortex, which impairs the power source needed to transform. The injury looks to be remarkably precise. The creature who wielded this weapon knew exactly where to make the blow. Until Mr. Briggs has renewed strength, he cannot complete his healing. We have stopped most of the bleeding, but we need the dragon adrenaline to help him overcome the fatal damage of that magical blade.”
Briggs bunched up his fists to combat the pain. Utterly helpless to take away his agony, he never would’ve been in this situation if it weren’t for Dakota.
“Can’t you give him something for the pain?”
Dr. Rattanakosin replied, “We’ve maxed out the morphine dosages for him. His body is burning through it and is unable to provide relief.”
I slid off my bed and reached for his hands. “Hang in there, Briggs,” I whispered. “We’ll find you the help you need. Is there anyone you want us to call—someone you might know on this side of the planet who can help?”
His skin felt clammy under my palms. He swallowed hard as even more color drained from his face. He choked out the words. “Sister, father. I’ve sent for Kalina. Here, soon.”
“Good. You rest now. I’ll let the nurse know she should let them in as soon as they arrive.” A faint, anguished smile crossed my lips, and I kissed his forehead. His skin was hot as the asphalt of Disney World’s parking lot in August.
A slow tear car
essed my cheek as my grief over Dakota overwhelmed me once again.
I am to blame for his pain.
I turned to walk through the hanging curtain to check on Khaldon and Harris. Still weakened, I tripped, fell forward, and caught hold of my IV pole to keep from crashing to the ground. I took the privacy curtain down with me in a clang of metal, spasm of pain, and tangle of canvas.
Khaldon leaned forward to help me, and I raised my hand to signal him to stop. The nurse grunted and tsked at me. She helped me to my feet, untangling the curtain from my blood line. She yanked the privacy sheet out of my arms, offering a thank you very much look, and she whisked it away into a laundry hamper.
I was pretty sure the nursing staff was still mad at me because of the way I kept biting them while they dug the silver out of my skin and muscles. I tried my best to not bare my fangs at her through most of the extraction, but I found it harder than I could manage. To finish removing the deeper pieces of silver embedded in my bones, the hospital staff had to secure me to the bed and sedate me several times. When I came to, I wouldn’t remember where I had been or what had happened, even though it had been explained to me several times prior.
Overall, I was lucky to be alive but the whole blood transfusions were taking longer than expected for healing. Dr. Rattanakosin had explained how after a severe silver breach, mending always took its toll and time on unlucky victims, especially newbies. Bagged blood was sufficient, but I needed to live-feed. We all did.
I took a step toward Khaldon and glanced over at Harris and the girl. She was conscious and drinking water. None of us presented much better than Briggs, but at least we were alive.
Khaldon sat on the edge of his bed across the narrow walkway with silver thermite oxide burns deep into his legs, hands, chest, and face. His skin had blackened from the third-degree burns. He also had a pint of whole blood draining into him, but his wounds were healing slowly due to the extensive damage from the silver poisoning as well.
I picked up the weapons lying on the sheet and then sat on the bed beside him. “Where did these come from?” I examined the dragon scythe blade, burnt metal arrow, and a crossbow bolt.
“This is the blade the Rakshasa used on Briggs. And this—” Khaldon plucked the arrow from my hand. He centered it over his left thigh. “This was the flaming silver thermite arrow I dug out of my leg.”
“Masochistic much? Do you like being reminded of horrible things that have happened to you?”
He shrugged and then winced at the effort. “Warriors historically keep their battle implements.” Khaldon handed me back the arrow and gingerly picked up the blade. “Figured Briggs would like to have this one, especially since it has caused him so much strife.” Khaldon grimaced as he tried to sit up straighter then leaned back against the pillows.
“So you’re going to give it to him as a souvenir? You want to keep the thing which almost burned you alive?”
“Indeed. And just for the record, the silver thermite did burn me—while I was alive.” He tried to dance his eyebrows at me, but failed miserably. “I have a couple of souvenirs for you too.”
I tilted my head in interest, wondering just what in hell he would take from that gawd-forsaken place—especially something that I would want to remember.
He leaned forward wincing and whispered close to my ear. “It’s in my satchel, but I don’t think you should take it out in here. Just open it.”
Intrigued and a little worried, I was hoping it wasn’t a severed head of a Rakshasa. I picked up the leather satchel stowed under his bed, carefully looking for any puddling body fluids. When the bag seemed innocent enough, I brought it up top and unbuckled the leather strap containing the elusive contents.
My eyes narrowed in disbelief. My hand flew to my mouth and immediately the pace of my heart jumped tenfold.
Khaldon covered my other hand with his and squeezed. His quiet reassurance helped me to catch my breath. “I noticed for some reason it glows more when it’s close to you, so I snagged it.” His devilish grin revealed secret mission accomplished all over his face.
Inside the bag, the green orb from the staff I was carrying in the cave was wrapped in an oil cloth. The staff had snapped in pieces, but the ornate carvings in the wood held the orb in place. I stared at Khaldon in disbelief. He guided my hand to touch it and I ran my fingertips across the runes carved in the wood. A zing of tingle rippled across my fingers when my hand caressed the cool gem. The warm green glow of the orb purred a connection between us. I could feel it humming.
Removing my hand, I re-covered it with the oilcloth. I hissed in a rushed whispered and looked around the room hoping nobody was paying any attention to us. “Are you insane? Haven’t you ever watched Heavy Metal?” I quickly closed the satchel and stowed it back under the bed. “That thing could represent all the evil in the Universe and be the demise of us all!”
He smiled as best he could and pulled me in close. “Who knows, maybe you’re the new Taarakian, ready to defend and protect us against the evil of the Loc-Nar.”
I shook my head again in disbelief that he would remove such a relic from their island. “In your dreams, Bucko. You must be feeling better.” I grinned a small smile and my heart sighed a tiny amount of relief knowing, in time, he was going to be just fine. “I think you just want to see me dressed up in red, thigh-high leather boots.” I checked his eyes for acknowledgment and they beamed with devious intent. “What in the world am I going to do with that thing? We have no idea what it is. Seriously, you may have just opened up the wrath of Sekmet or something on us.”
Khaldon made an erotic, appreciative noise in the back of his throat. “Right, leather boots … I think you should dress as a Taarakian for the next Comic Con.”
I would have punched him in the arm if we all weren’t still in so much pain.
“But not to worry your bonny head, since Sekmet is my direct ancestor, you needn’t worry about her wrath anytime soon.” He sat up a little straighter on the bed. “If you want, we can keep the orb at my house. I’m just trying to think how I’m going to get it past customs.”
“Yeah, well I’m just waiting for the Rakshasa to crash through those doors to recover their ancient relic.” Feeling an imminent sense of foreboding, I peeked over my shoulder toward the door. Just in case.
“I’ve the perfect place for the orb next to our crossbow bolts. I’ll hang it next to the one I dug out of my shoulder in the Civil War.”
“Our bolts?”
“Indeed, m’lady.” He flipped a bolt into the air and caught it. “This is the one I dug out of Torchy’s side and through your calf. I guess technically, the bolt is both of yours.”
He picked up the dragon scythe and pointed it at me. “That silver thermite arrow will make an excellent addition to my gallery.”
A humble smile emerged through the pain as flakes of ash fell from above his eyebrow. “Keeping mementos like these helps me to appreciate the days when life is simple.” He whisked away the ash with his hands.
“Never expected such exciting adventures when we started to date, huh?” I ran my hand down the side of his cheek where there weren’t any burns.
“Blimey, Chey, you do manage to keep things interesting. I’ll give you that.” He tried to wink, but winced in pain as scorched flesh fell off in chunks, revealing pink shiny skin underneath. Even though he looked as though he would never recover, it was miraculous to watch how his skin repaired itself.
“Looks like you’re going to need more blood. Is there any way they can bring us live donors?”
Khaldon shrugged and reclined back on the bed, slowly closing his eyes obviously still too tired to care.
“I’ll ask and see what I can find out.” I stood and tentatively stretched my newly formed calf muscles and leaned up against the windowsill beside Khaldon’s bed. It looked as though we would have a shy pink and orange sunset in a few hours. In some oddball way, the setting sun offered a renewed hope that we might live to see another day.
/>
I picked at a silver scab pockmark on my elbow, not trying to think about why we were here recovering in the first place. “Ya know, it was really weird. Right before the explosion, I found a key around Dakota’s waist. It glowed the same as the green orb and it had a serpent’s eye in it. It was so Lords of the Rings cliché, but the weird thing was, the key actually called to me. It wanted me to insert it into the lock. Like it was enchanted or something.”
“What did you do with it? Do you still have it?”
“I didn’t do anything with it. Ludovic snatched the key out of my hands and called me a witch. The next thing I knew—Dakota and Ludovic were gone.”
“Wait—what? He called you a witch? Are you sure?”
I tilted my head from side to side, not saying yes, not saying no. “No, not really. I’m not sure. But Briggs accused him of calling me that and I’d never heard the word before.” I shrugged. “It’s no big deal, it just made me wonder who planted that key as the trigger for the countdown. Someone spent a lot of time planning to kill us.”
Khaldon breathed in as deep a breath as he could. “This whole shite show is nutters, but are you all right? This has been very difficult for you.” His voice was kind. So kind, it made me feel guilty for focusing my own needs and not paying more attention to him. He was hurt just as badly as I was.
“Truthfully?”
“No, please, lie to me,” he teased. “Of course, tell me what’s going on in that burnt, red head of yours.” His grin reached his green eyes, and I hoped he really didn’t care what I looked like after what we had been through.
“Please don’t remind me. It’s going to take forever to regrow at this point.” I shook my head. “Physically, I’m better. But earlier, I thought I would lose my mind when I couldn’t see. I still just can’t believe we failed.”
Khaldon reached out a hand to me. I accepted it and ran a finger up and down where the skin had grown back. My own hand was pink and rosy with renewed flesh.
“Mentally, I can’t wrap my head around who would want to do that to Dakota. To any of us. They used her as a lure to kill us.” I looked at our hands once again. My breath hitched in my chest as emotion swelled. My words were thick with shock. “I feel like my mind is refusing to believe how my heart is breaking. My brain is in complete denial of what happened. Everything I remember happening on that island was true. I feel more numb than anything and I want to crawl into a hole and hit the reset button on life.”
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