by Jan Dockter
“There’s an international phone in there too, in case you need to call. Be safe, son.”
“Thanks, Dad. For everything. I promise you I’ll come back and make you proud.”
“You already do. Now, go.”
Ryan walked into a stand of trees and took off his clothes and shoes and stuffed them in the bag. He let out the strap as much as he could then slung the pack over his shoulder. He hoped that would work because the idea of carrying the thing in his mouth while he was flying did not appeal to him at all.
He stood in the grove as the afternoon sun trickled down on him, hoping that no one happened upon him while he was naked. Ryan didn’t need to be arrested again.
He thought about Steph, how beautiful she was and how much he wanted to be with her. He got an image of her standing in on a grassy oval with a ruined building around it and he knew where she was. He grew furious then, knowing she was taken there against her will.
She was probably frightened and she most definitely was alone in that nest of vipers. And with his anger his body expanded. Instead of being in the middle of a stand of trees, he brushed up against them. With a huge roar and a great leap from his hind legs he was airborne.
He had one purpose now as his wings beat against the air taking him higher. He loved the feeling of wind against his wings but he wasn’t going to get lost in the sensation of flight. He had to get to Steph.
His heart hammered in his great chest as he gained altitude, then sensing the right moment and taking a deep breath he dove. Ryan fixed his thoughts on Steph willing his dragon body to take him where she was.
He dropped rapidly into the atmosphere. In his haste, he was going too fast. The friction of his passage danced along his scales bringing back the memory of pain from the fire. But nothing was going to stop him. He scanned the area below and found the grassy oval and the ring of ruined building. Looking even closer he saw Steph with her glorious red hair standing near the stone table and the dragons that surrounded her.
They were waiting for him.
Ryan dove, roaring his displeasure. He wasn’t going to hide. He was outnumbered so he had to make a show of bravado to pull off he plan he formulated in his head.
He lighted on the ground, flapping his wings. And then he transformed.
Steph’s eyes widened and then she ran to him.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“They knew I couldn’t stay away.” He slung the backpack off his shoulder and placed it in front of him. It would like he was trying to be modest. But Ryan’s plan depended on an object his father placed in the backpack. He felt around for it, covering his actions by Steph standing in front of him.
“Come here, baby,” he said, pulling her to the side with one hand. As he did he pressed the object into her hand she placed it behind his back. He leaned to her ear. “Go for Rhea,” whispered.
Steph stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Ok, baby,” she whispered.
“Stand away from my son,” said Rhea haughtily.
“No, Steph, you stay right here.”
“Rhea,” said Reanne. “You should reconsider this. If you harm his mate, Ryan will not ally himself with us. It is better if—”
“Silence,” yelled Rhea. “I did not ask for your editorial, Reanne. No dragon will mate with humans. Period.”
“Sorry, Rhea,” said Ryan. “It already happened. You can’t change me and Steph no more than you can swap the moon for the sun.”
“I will kill her myself,” said Rhea advancing.
“You know,” said Steph. “I’ve heard of monsters-in-law before, but this is ridiculous.”
“What are you talking about?” said Rhea advancing on the pair. She was within ten feet of them, which for Steph was just about perfect.
“Now, sweetheart,” said Ryan.
Steph whipped out the gun Ryan had pressed in her hand and aimed for the space right between Rhea Gentrix’s eyes. She released the safety, took a quick breath and squeezed the trigger just as she was taught. The report of the pistol rang on the decayed walls of the one great palace.
Rhea screamed, and her face morphed strangely from human to dragon to human again. She stood with a look of total surprise on her face and then fell to the ground twitching.
“It doesn’t seem to be a kill shot,” Steph said.
“Doesn’t need to be,” said Ryan. “Hold this.” He stuffed the backpack into her hands and then shifted as the other dragons ran toward Rhea and shifted and leapt into the air again, holding Steph as close to his heart as he could while they flew away from the dragon palace.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Steph
“Mom, Dad, you’re here!” squealed Steph in her excitement.
“Yes,” said her mother. “And your brothers will be here shortly. They are all coming in on the same plane from Frankfurt.”
“I’m so happy.”
“So where is this man of yours that you’ve hidden from us?” said her mother pointedly.
“I haven’t hidden him, Mom. It’s just Ryan has been busy helping his father with the business. They got that new government contract and it’s a lot more work than they thought.”
“Well take us to him,” said her father gruffly. “I want to meet this man who didn’t bother to ask for my permission to marry you.”
“Dad! You absolutely won’t harass, Ryan. He’s been very good to me.”
Ivan Kaur walked to the group.
“Mr. And Mrs. Brooks,” said the elder Kaur smiling. “I’m Ivan. Ryan is my son.”
Steph put her hands to her face thinking that her father would say something to Mr. Kaur to embarrass her, but her father merely smiled and stuck out his hand.
“Ivan. Pleasure to meet you. Though,” he said with a glance to Steph, “I wish I could have met you sooner.”
“I understand. It’s not always easy to get a furlough from the Marines.”
“Yes, I suspect someone must have put in a good word for me.”
Ivan Kaur’s face flushed which Steph never saw before. “I don’t know what you mean. Let’s let the ladies chat and come to the bar with me. I could use a drink.”
“Well,” said her father, “a beer might be good. It’s hot in this dress uniform.”
“Wool, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then a beer it is.”
Mr. Kaur led her father off and Steph was alone with her mother.
“I see your hair and make-up are done. Why aren’t you dressed, dear?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, the dress the wedding planner talked me into is too much for me to handle on my own.”
“Don’t you have bridesmaids?”
“Oh, yes,” said Steph. “A bunch of debutantes from the Kaur’s social circle. I need someone who knows how to deploy camouflage.”
“You would think,” her mother started as they walked toward the house. But she stopped talking looking at the different people gathered near the bar. Many were dressed in formal attire and her mother looked down at her dress and blushed.
“Don’t worry mom. I got you a mother-of-the-bride dress. I hope you don’t mind. The wedding planner insisted.”
“Are you going to blame everything today on the wedding planner?”
“Ryan tells me he has it on good authority that the wedding planner’s primary function is take the blame for everything. It’s why the good ones are so outrageously priced.
Stephanie took her mother to the bedroom upstairs that was set up as Steph’s dressing room for the day. The make-up artist and the hairdresser sat on the bed chatting but stood quickly when Steph walked in.
Steph pulled a dress from her closet. It was beautiful royal blue taffeta that would float gracefully over her mother’s generous frame.
“This? For me?”
“Sure, mom. You deserve a beautiful dress.”
“I can’t, this is too much.”
“No it isn’t,” said a deeper voice from the d
oor. “Anyone who raised such a wonderful woman deserves it.”
Ryan stood leaning against the doorjamb dressed in a black tuxedo that made him even more devastatingly handsome than he was. Steph wanted to melt into his arms right there, but that wouldn’t be right especially in front of her mother.
“Ryan!” scolded Steph. “You aren’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding.”
“Why not? I’ve seen her every other time,” he said with a smirk.
“You are a bad, bad man. Get out, before I call this off.”
Ryan stepped in and winding his arm around her waist gave her a deep and passionate kiss. “You can’t get rid of me, Stephanie Kaur.”
“I’m not Stephanie Kaur yet. And if you don’t let me get dressed, I might not be.”
“Okay. I know when I’m beat. It was good to meet you, Mrs. Brooks. I’ll meet you later on the dance floor.” He winked at her and left the room.
Her mother let go a deep breath.
“Oh, my,” said her mother. “Were did you find him? He’s perfect.”
Steph smiled. She and Ryan had every good thing to look forward to. Once Ryan settled in with her and the business his wild ways were finished. Ryan’s father insisted she take the job as liaison between legal service and the family and found herself immersed in her work. Ivan Kaur did something he wouldn’t talk about that forced Mr. Watins into retirement. And they hadn’t heard from Rhea Gentrix or any other dragon for nearly a year.
“At work,” she said lightly. “Now let’s get dressed. We’ve got a wedding to deploy.”
End of Book
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The Vampire’s Embrace
The Gift of Blood:
Book 1
Lucy Lyons
© 2017
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 1
Ashe lay on the roof of the music building looking up at the foul grey clouds as they raced across the sky. Her head lay on her backpack and her feet rested on the raised lip of the flat roof. Anyone looking up would only be able to see the worn soles of her shoes peeking over the ledge. A book lay open across her stomach: a collection of short stories for her English literature class. Though it was November, Ashe wore nothing more than a simple t-shirt and a pair of tight jeans with holes in the knees and up the thigh. She was never bothered by the cold. In fact, she loved the winter and the quiet cool months leading up to them.
Ashe was in the first semester of her final year at college. While those around her were preparing for their lives after graduation, Ashe found herself feeling just as lost as when she had first stepped onto campus three years ago, everyone had told her she would find her passion in time and to take as many different classes as she could until she found the ones that fit. However, in all this time nothing had sparked her interest in the slightest. She liked to read— she knew that much— and she liked to play the piano in the music building below her, but those two things alone did not make a future. She wasn’t enrolled in any music classes. She only liked the building for its practice rooms and easily accessible roof. Besides, she had been reading books and playing music long before coming to college.
What she needed was something to wake her back up. She sighed and stretched her arms out in front of her. The bell in the tower of the campus cathedral started chiming out the hour, its somber melody ringing out across the quad and distorting against the sides of buildings before it reached Ashe’s ears. She had a few minutes yet until class. She sat up, letting the book tumble off her stomach as she reached for her backpack. She tossed the book inside and zipped it up then got to her feet, dusting the concrete grit from the back of her jeans.
The door to the roof was set in at an angle, like the trapdoor to a tornado shelter. Ashe yanked it open with a grunt and slid herself in through the opening. When her boots hit the metal rungs of the ladder, she reached up again to close the door behind her. She wasn’t really supposed to be up there, but the door to the roof was never locked and she hadn’t gotten in trouble about it yet. She climbed down the ladder into the vast room that comprised half of the music building’s third floor. Once used as a rehearsal studio, it was now filled with dusty old boxes and empty instrument cases. Ashe often took loose sheets of music from the boxes and tried them out on the pianos downstairs. Their melodies were often macabre; sometimes atonal, and Ashe could see why they had been hidden away in the unused part of the building.
Ashe could almost feel the energy crackling in the air outside. It wasn’t a matter of if it would rain, but rather when. The wind whipped her long auburn hair in front of her face and she tucked it behind an ear so she could see. Students hurried between buildings with their coats clutched close, hoping to get inside before the downpour. Ashe set off towards the lecture hall with a small smile on her face. She liked the idea of a coming storm.
Angry red marks glared at Ashe from the paper. They slashed down the page like cuts wet with blood. Ashe glanced up at the students filling the lecture hall around her, but no one was paying her any mind. They never did. At the bottom of the last page was her failing grade and a message from the professor: SEE ME. The way it was written, in all caps with two sharp underlines for emphasis told Ashe this was just the beginning of her headaches. Three years of college and she was still just dragging herself along. She swept her long hair to one side and shoved the paper into her backpack. As she stood up to leave the lecture hall, a pen toppled onto the floor. She stooped to pick it up and hooked it onto the collar of her loose black V-neck so that she wouldn't lose it a second time.
She hadn’t studied for this test, not really, and if she was being completely honest with herself she could have done better. But her midterm on medieval European folklore had come at a time when all she wanted to do was curl u
p in her bed and sleep all day, hiding away from the world’s crap. Days like that happened more often than Ashe would have liked to admit, especially since going to college and realizing that the drama didn’t stop after high school. She kept to herself mostly and could count on one hand the number of people she bothered to keep in touch with. Campus was small, but her world was microscopic.
Ashe was nearly out the door when Professor Sharp called her name. She debated pretending she hadn’t heard him, but she had tried that tactic before and the man had followed her out into the hallway making the situation all the more embarrassing. This time she stopped and turned around, facing her professor with a poorly-hidden scowl on her face.
Her mythology professor was like a library come to life, not so much in his vast knowledge of all things related to folklore and myth, but rather in his appearance. He wore a corduroy jacket of a dusty brown with matching brown leather elbow pads sown in. His trousers were of the same fabric as the jacket. Though he couldn’t have been much older than Ashe’s father, his hair was a uniform white as if he had personally watched the centuries go by instead of merely studying them.
The man gave Ashe a searching look through his thick wireframe glasses. “You know I have office hours after class,” he said. “And if there’s anyone who could benefit from them right now it would be you.”
“I was going to go to the library,” Ashe replied. “There’s a book I need for my next class.” This was not entirely the truth, but Ashe was not prepared to spend an afternoon listening to her professor’s motivational words about the value of education and the rewards of hard work. She already knew what her problem was—she just wasn’t that interested in mythology.
Professor Sharp smiled. “I’ll make sure you still have plenty of time to get to the library when we’re finished. Walk with me to my office.”