A Dragon's Heart: (Dragons of Paragon - Book 1)

by Jan Dockter

  “Who are you?” Isabel pulled the blanket around her, feeling self-conscious in her nakedness.

  “Still clinging to some of your more human impulses, I see,” the woman said, sitting in the same chair that Gavin had taken when he entered earlier. “Those will go away soon enough.”

  “You didn’t answer my question?” Isabel held the woman’s gaze, remembering Gavin’s commands to her.

  “I’m here to sort of … explain a few things to you,” the woman said. Isabel hadn’t completely noticed before, but she spoke with a slight, strange accent; one she had never heard before.

  “I know I’m a succubus,” Isabel said, ticking her points off on her fingers. “I know I have to ‘feed’ on people or no matter how much I eat, I’ll starve to death.”

  The woman nodded.

  “I also know that you’re a vampire, and that Oz is an angel, and I know that you kidnapped me from the mall.” Isabel licked her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. “So, I assume you’re going to continue from there?”

  “Do you know why we took you out of Oz’s keeping, Isabel?” Isabel resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

  “I know why Oz said you would try and take me out of his keeping,” Isabel replied. “But I’m open to hearing an alternative explanation.”

  “Succubi are special,” the woman told her. “You make people feel the most divine pleasure, and you feed off of it. You’re a combination of the best traits of vampires and angels.”

  “Not hearing an explanation,” Isabel said, grateful that there was no way – to the best of her knowledge – that the woman could force her to listen quietly, or make her obey any particular command.

  “Your needs and talents make you a natural ally for vampires,” the woman said matter-of-factly. “Ultimately, what’s good for us is good for you.”

  “Okay, so you kidnapped me in order to show me how good I could have it?” Isabel gestured around the room. “Maybe I’ll understand better how wonderful it is to be kept in a dark room that I can’t leave all by myself for hours at a time when I fully transition.” She had – in the interests of making sure – checked the door at some point during her time in the darkness after Gavin had left. There was no way to open the door from her side of it.

  “We wanted you to be properly receptive,” the woman explained. “The lights will stay on after I leave, and of course you can order food if you like it; there’s a voice address system. You can bathe, dress yourself, whatever you like. You just can’t leave this room unless you’re invited out of it.” Isabel pressed her lips together.

  “Oh yes, I can see how wonderful it will be to be a prisoner,” she said tartly. “What an improvement on my previous existence.”

  “We have to make sure that you understand your new existence,” the woman said. “Oz made a mistake in trying to keep you from us. In order to function properly as a succubus, you will need tutelage from vampires, not just from angels.” Isabel rolled her eyes.

  “What am I supposed to be learning from vampires?”

  “How to feed without feeling shame,” the woman replied. “How to take what you want and ignore your silly human inclinations.” Isabel stared at her in shock. “We have a mutual interest, Isabel, and soon enough, you’ll see it.”

  “Maybe you could tell me what that mutual interest is?”

  The woman smiled slightly.

  “Vampires want the ability to exist in the world without being covered by myth,” the woman replied. “We want to be able to feed when and on whomever we want.” She inclined her head towards Isabel. “Doesn’t that sound like a cause you can get behind?”

  Isabel shrugged.

  “Considering the fact that I apparently can control men’s minds and get what I want from them, I don’t see the issue.”

  The woman chuckled.

  “Isabel, don’t you think that if regular humans find out what you are; an immortal creature who feeds on desire and pleasure, then your life will probably not be quite so easy?”

  “You haven’t given me a chance to find out,” Isabel replied.

  “I’ll make sure someone comes in later to show you the records,” the woman told her. “Succubi have not been treated well by normal human society…. or incubi, for that matter. The only supernatural creatures who have been treated well are the angels. Is it any wonder why they’re fine with maintaining the status quo?”

  Before Isabel could digest the question, the door opened again; Gavin came into the room, looking every bit at ease as he had hours earlier. “Ah, Portia. I see you’re giving my new creation her catechism.”

  “Oz had his chance to pervert her thinking,” —Portia said, shrugging. “Why shouldn’t I get my innings in?”

  “She’s mine to train,” Gavin told the other vampire. “The council agreed.”

  “Why the council trusts you is beyond me,” Portia said, rising to her feet. “You’ve never shown an ounce of loyalty to anyone but yourself.”

  “You’re just worried that I’ll succeed with her,” Gavin said with a knowing grin. “Then you don’t get to get off on torturing the poor thing.” Isabel watched the two, thinking to herself that the vampires looked like nothing so much as dogs circling a bone.

  Without warning, they advanced on each other, and Isabel slid back on the bed instinctively as she heard sounds of fabric ripping. From behind the woman’s back, a pair of dark red-brown wings emerged; at almost the same moment, Isabel saw the fabric give way at the back of Gavin’s blazer, and through the tears, a pair of dark gray wings appeared and then unfurled, spreading out to their full expanse.

  “Do you want to scare our new recruit, Portia? Because I believe you’re defeating your own purpose here, as they say these days,” Gavin said, sounding almost bored.

  “Do not fuck with me, Gavin,” Portia said. She turned to Isabel. “There will be plenty of time later for you to get to know us better.” The woman smiled, revealing sharp teeth, fangs extended. “But Gavin clearly wants another mutual feeding, and far be it for me to prevent him.” Her wings folded back against her shoulders and Portia turned away, walking towards the door.

  Gavin waited until the woman had left, and then Isabel watched as he pulled his own wings back in, and watched them disappear. “Sneaky little bitch,” he murmured towards the door. He looked at Isabel. “So, what did you think of our dear Portia?”

  “I think she’s annoying,” Isabel replied. “She reminds me of a friend I ditched back in college.” Gavin laughed and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Manipulative, bitchy, too wealthy for her own good?” Isabel shrugged.

  “Something like that,” she said, remembering Cara; her former friend had dangled paid trips to the spa, or weekend outings to resorts her parents owned, as an exchange for friendship. Yet, whenever Isabel had gone with her, she’d received more or less constant insults.

  “So I don’t have to warn you not to trust her, I assume,” Gavin said. He held out an arm. “Come here.”

  Isabel found herself moving towards him almost before she could think of it, and her annoyance at the ready obedience of her body to Gavin’s commands returned. Gavin pulled her onto his lap, and Isabel felt a pulse of lust run through her body at the awareness of his masculinity, and the knowledge of what there was under his clothes. “I’m not going to feed you just yet,” Gavin said. “I want you to be a little hungry, you see, I do want to train you some.”

  “Train me?” Isabel looked up into his face, irritable. “Like a dog?”

  “Dogs are easier to train than succubi,” Gavin said wryly. “They actually want to obey.”

  “If you’re just here to lord over how I can’t resist you or disobey you, I could kind of do without it,” Isabel told him. Gavin chuckled, slipping one hand down between her legs. He cupped her already-slick vulva, touching her lightly.

  “Even if I hadn’t made you,” he murmured, “you would still have this reaction to me.”

  “I would?” Is
abel raised an eyebrow, disbelieving.

  “Your body is going to have a continuous low-level arousal for the rest of your existence, whenever you see a man,” Gavin told her. “Especially one you’ve fed from.”

  “You fed from me, too,” Isabel said, remembering that fact. She reached down and touched the marks on her lower leg; they were already starting to heal – much faster than the first ones she had received from Gavin, less than a week before.

  “Of course,” Gavin said. “Succubus blood is like honey for us.” He grinned. “Not exactly a meal, but a sweet treat.”

  “Oh.” Isabel closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. “You know, I would really appreciate it if, when people offer to explain things to me, they actually, you know, explain.”

  “It takes too long,” Gavin said. He withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his lips to lick the traces of her fluids off of them. “We’ve existed as long as humans have, as long as angels have – that’s millennia of politics, of history – you can’t expect to learn everything about the supernatural world in a week.”

  “It would be helpful if I could at least know the full reasons why vampires and angels are fighting over me,” Isabel countered.

  “You’ll learn them all,” Gavin said. “In the meantime, we need to get you out of here. Oz, too.”

  “How are we going to do that?” Isabel gestured around the room. “I have kind of a suspicion that I’m supposed to be forced to stay here.”

  “Oh, of course,” Gavin said. “But you see, my little greedy succubus, I’ve been working very hard to get an opening for something.”

  “Why do you want to get Oz out?” Gavin looked away for a moment.

  “Oz needs to be out of here because if we don’t get him out, they’ll kill him,” Gavin said.

  “How do you kill an angel?” Gavin took a deep breath, and Isabel wondered if anything that the mythology said about vampires – that they were undead, never ate, and had to avoid churches and the sun – was true.

  “Angels have a natural impulse – an instinct – to make people feel good,” Gavin said. “Some of the more advanced ones can heal injuries, but even the most basic, the weakest of them, can soothe pain and create feelings of peace, relief, pleasure.”

  “Okay,” Isabel said. “That’s where that part of the whole succubus thing comes from.” Gavin nodded.

  “But it drains them,” he explained. “They have to recharge – music, kindness, warmth, those kinds of things.” Gavin looked at Isabel intently. “The vampires are basically sending a steady stream of injured, depressed, or otherwise people – and entities – in pain into Oz’s cell.” Isabel considered that and shuddered.

  “They’re making him heal them, and not giving him what he needs to recharge,” she said. Gavin nodded again.

  “They want to warp him, to eventually use him against you,” Gavin said. He smiled slightly. “Fortunately for you, and for Oz, that fits perfectly into my plans.” Isabel frowned, confused.

  “How?”

  “Just suffice it to say that I am going to bring you to Oz,” Gavin told her. “You will not show anything other than hunger when we leave this room, and you are not to tell anyone – no matter how they try and manipulate you – about what I said.” He brushed his lips against her temple, and down to her ear. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Isabel said.

  “You’re in real danger here, Isabel. Don’t let Portia’s juvenile behavior blind you to the fact that there are stronger, smarter minds behind her. Minds that see in you a treasure trove.”

  “Why?” Isabel shook her head, unable to quite believe it.

  “Because you are valuable,” Gavin told her. “You are one of the more powerful succubi we’ve managed to create in recent years. Good luck on my part, I suppose.” Gavin smiled against her skin. “Oz has excellent taste.”

  “You talk like you like him,” Isabel said.

  “I respect him,” Gavin replied. “I’d hate to see him drained to death. And I don’t want you being wasted on converting the masses.”

  “You don’t?” Gavin chuckled lowly, and Isabel shivered as she felt his sharp teeth graze her neck.

  “I have my own plans for you, little Isabel,” Gavin said. “And I need Oz to make those plans happen. Do exactly what I tell you, and you’ll never want for feedings. That’s all you need to know.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Isabel emerged from the shower attached to her room, feeling on edge almost as much as she felt energized and relaxed by the opportunity to get good and clean. It’s kind of amazing how much a shower can change your mood, she thought, stepping into the main room of her prison cell without even bothering to put on any clothes.

  The transformation was still continuing; Isabel had seen her reflection in the mirror, and knew that she was almost at the peak of her beauty as a succubus; her hair seemed to shine with an almost crystalline gleam, and her eyes were bigger and brighter than ever. Her skin was utterly flawless, and the curves of her body were so ripe that if she had seen a picture of herself the way she had become back before the strange turn of events that led to her new existence, she would have insisted that nothing short of intensive, life-threateningly extreme plastic surgery could have accomplished it.

  She turned around in front of a full-length mirror in her room, shaking her head at herself once more. The woman at Nordstrom had measured her bra size at a 34 F – and certainly, that size of bra had felt the most comfortable, but the woman Isabel saw in the mirror managed to have almost comically full breasts that drooped only just enough to be real. There was not a single stretch mark, not even the suggestion of a cellulite dimple on her body. One development that somewhat disturbed her was the fact that she didn’t seem to have any hair below her neck, almost anywhere. Her legs were flawlessly smooth, and as she had showered, Isabel had been alarmed to watch as the trimmed hair on her vulva slide away from her body, revealing utterly smooth skin underneath – so smooth, in fact, that it looked as though there had never been hair there in the first place. Her underarms were equally bare, and her eyebrows looked as if they had been professionally seen to.

  “Well, I guess there’s something to be said about beauty standards,” Isabel murmured to herself, trying to dismiss the implications of her hairless body. She finished drying herself off and sat down on the edge of her bed, trying to decide whether or not she even wanted to get dressed.

  Hours before – how long exactly, Isabel wasn’t sure, since a clock was not one of the room’s features – Gavin had told her that he had personal plans for her, and that they were somehow going to work together to free Oz. He had suggested that she would have to participate in a threesome in order to make that happen; and the part of Isabel’s mind that was still mostly human--and tied to her previous life--couldn’t quite believe that she would ever be so starved. Even though she’d managed to have sex with two men in the span of one evening, the thought of having sex with two men at the same time was beyond her. On the other hand, my job is basically to be as big of a slut as possible, Isabel thought, grimacing to herself.

  As she considered the prospect of having sex with Oz and Gavin at the same time, Isabel couldn’t deny that she felt the heat beginning to start up in her body once again, the sense of something akin to hunger beginning to stir inside of her. As she had progressed in her transformation, the stomach-gnawing feeling had started to subside, replaced by a deeper kind of hunger that she hadn’t experienced since high school. Even at that, she thought, she didn’t quite feel it in her stomach anymore; it made sense that she wouldn’t--since she was more than capable of eating actual food, and since the source of the hunger wasn’t her digestive system, but rather something else.

  “One of these days,” Isabel mused quietly to herself, “I will figure out everything there is to know about being a succubus, instead of having people only tell me as much as they want me to know about it.” She sighed and looked around the room. It
was difficult to prepare herself for some rescue attempt that Gavin might make when she had no idea what he might want her to do, or when he might come to spring her. She thought about the other vampire she had met, Portia, who had definitely taken the wrong approach if she had wanted to earn Isabel’s trust. Isabel thought about the dark wings on the two vampires in her room and shuddered. Where Oz’s wings had been amazing – and somehow comforting – the darker wings of the vampires had reminded Isabel of predatory birds.

  The door to her room opened and Isabel resisted the human urge to cover herself; instead she glanced in the direction of the noise and saw Portia walk in, with a man she had never seen before, looking almost drugged. “Thought you might be hungry,” Portia said, smiling broadly enough to show the sharpness of her teeth.

  In spite of herself, Isabel felt the jolt of arousal course through her at the sight of the man. The human part of her mind argued that the man wasn’t even particularly attractive; he was maybe forty years old, with a flat stomach that looked as though it were starting to lose its tone, sunburned skin dusted with freckles and dark hair that had started to go gray at the temples. If he was mundane to Isabel, it was obvious from his immediate reaction to her that she was irresistible to him; the man’s eyes widened, and he opened and then closed his mouth, speechless for a moment. “God, I would pay my life savings to fuck you,” the man told her. “You’re probably tight as a virgin and wet as a slip-n-slide, aren’t you?”