by Silver Milan
Jett was gone. Not even Ephephany could save him now. Witches could not Heal death.
All of this was for nothing, like Ariel had said. There was no point in going on.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
She and Jett were going to live happily ever after. Have dragon-lion babies.
Now all of that was gone.
She squeezed her hands into knots in his hair. “Jett.”
The absolute sadness was replaced by an overpowering anger, and she tore her fists from his hair, ripping his beautiful locks away.
“How dare you give up on me!” she shouted. “How dare you! I never gave up on you, not once!”
Ariel swallowed hard, trying to get her emotions under control. Jett hadn’t given up on her. He had kept himself alive, willing his body to endure long enough to see her after the battle, just one last time. Just once. That’s all he wanted before he died. His death was entirely beyond his control, as it is for most people.
The thought made fresh tears well.
“I’m not going to let you leave me so easily, my dragon,” she whispered into his ear. “You’re mine, and don’t you forget it. I didn’t give you permission to go. I love you. And I always will.”
She bent over and kissed those lips, ignoring the black blood that stained them. She didn’t care. She wanted him to feel her touch, if a part of him was still alive inside.
And then she breathed into his mouth, giving him the breath of life. Using her CPR training, she repeatedly pressed against his chest, willing his heart to beat.
“I love you,” she whispered into his ear before breathing inside his mouth again.
Her words and actions must have sparked some last strength inside Jett, because his chest began to rise and fall once more.
Hope welled inside of her.
“Come on, my dragon,” Ariel encouraged him.
But he didn’t return to consciousness. His breathing was strained, wheezing, and seemed to be growing weaker with each moment. Some of those black veins had emerged from his collar and were moving up his neck now, crawling toward his face. Left on his own, she knew Jett wouldn’t last for much longer. The poison had penetrated too deep.
But now at least there was a chance he could be Healed. Unfortunately, she knew Ephephany would never get here in time, especially if there were surviving members of the Black Guard still confining her.
Ariel forced the tears away and steeled her resolve.
Jett hadn’t given up. That he was breathing once more was testament to that. She wasn’t going to give up, either.
She was going to save Jett.
She had forgotten who she was: one of the most powerful non-dragon witches this world had ever seen, according to Gwendoline, and others in the Steel Tower who had trained her.
Yes, Ariel knew she had it in her to Heal him. If anyone could do it, she could. She essentially knew the Weave, after all, thanks to Mathis. She’d just never tried it on anything other than a rotten apple before.
She retrieved the severed arm that she had dropped, and wrapped her fingers around the Strength bracelets, trying to touch as many of them at once as possible. Then she reached inside. She could feel the Strength waiting just beyond the bone, but she couldn’t touch it. She was simply too weary after all that fighting. And the magic suppression in this place wasn’t helping, either.
She considered having Jett moved outside the city, to the shoulder of the mountain, but she doubted he’d last long enough. Already those dark veins had reached his face.
She began to despair, but she quickly banished the feeling, knowing that would only make things worse. She would touch the Strength. She would, if it killed her!
Swallowing, and closing her eyes a moment to steady herself, she reached deeper inside herself, searching for the stamina she needed. Then she tried Siphoning through the dragon bones once more.
No good.
She tossed the arm aside, frustrated.
“I’m sorry, Jett, I can’t do it,” she said.
As she stared at his face, his sweet, tender face, watching his breath come in ever weaker wheezes, she realized she didn’t need the arm with its lifeless dragon bone bracelets.
All she needed to touch the Strength was within Jett himself. His living bones.
She wasn’t sure this would work, but she tried anyway.
She rested a gentle palm on his forehead, where the skull was essentially covered only in skin. It was the thinnest bone-skin barrier in all the body. If there was anywhere she could reach through his dragon bones, it would be the forehead.
She searched for the Strength. There, a glimmer, in the frontal bone of his skull. She reached into the bone and found the Strength. Still she couldn’t touch it. She took a long breath, and delved deep inside herself to a reserve well of stamina she didn’t know she had—she had to if she wanted to save the man she cherished more than anything.
And then she touched the Strength.
A river of power swept though her. It was weaker than the amount of Strength she usually Siphoned from other dragon bones, but that was because Jett had no ability to Siphon himself, and was not a witch. She knew she’d find some Strength inside him, though, as all dragons had a little magic in them—it was what let them transform, after all.
Ariel dismissed her wondering thoughts. She had work to do.
From the river of Strength she extracted the necessary affinities, replacing Earth with Life, and recreated the healing Weave Mathis had taught her from memory.
As she worked, she remembered the exploding apples… one mistake and she would be the one to kill the man she loved, not the poison. And so she Weaved with a concentration rooted in devoted love, Weaved as if her life depended on it, because in fact it did: if he died, so would she shortly thereafter, from a broken heart.
When she was done the complicated Strengthwork, she rested it on the source of his affliction—the black wound in his side—and waited for it to take. She held her breath, terrified that she had made a mistake.
Nothing seemed to happen at first. But as the seconds passed, the veins on his face reversed their course, retreating. Soon the spiderweb around the wound was receding, and in moments was gone entirely. The blackness in the wound faded to red, and seconds later it too sealed up. It was almost like watching a video playing in reverse.
She hadn’t expected it to work so quickly, but it was likely the Weave acted in concert with his own dragon healing, speeding the process. In moments all that was left was a puckering red scar, and even that was beginning to fade, already turning pink.
Jett opened his eyes.
“My dragon!” Ariel wrapped her arms around him and lifted his upper body to him. She kissed him on the lips. She had never seen such a sight so beautiful as the opening of those eyes. The utter relief she felt after everything she had been through was indescribable.
He kissed her right back. Powerfully.
She choked up. She couldn’t help it.
When he released her, he said: “What’s wrong? What happened?”
She smiled through the tears and answered each question in turn: “Nothing. Everything.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. “Love you love you love you. Never do that again.”
22
Sevilla sat on top of her Gabriel, riding him in a completely non-sexual manner: her lover had turned into a blue dragon with white streaks along the sides, and his eyes shone a bright jade.
She had summoned local black clouds to blot out the morning sun above her, clouds that followed along with her dragon; it was a relatively easy Strengthwork, at least for one of her skill level, and it provided her with the necessary shade for the flight. Because of her age, the indirect sunlight that reflected from the forest below didn’t bother her too much: she would get the equivalent of a minor tan, nothing more. Gabriel would probably like the change in her skin color. The auto tint feature of her glasses had activated already, protecting her sensitive eye
s from any glare from below.
“Hold on,” Gabriel boomed in his deep dragon voice.
He abruptly spread his wings wide and glided at high speed down the shoulder of the mountain.
Sevilla couldn’t help but mimic the pose, and extended her own arms wide, enjoying the intense ride. Her legs were tightly wrapped around his neck. She was positive she wouldn’t fall, but as the pines passed in a blur below, she was overcome with the sudden worry that she might fall, so she quickly grabbed onto his scales with one arm.
Like riding a bull. But without the bull.
The fear passed, and she relished the experience once more.
She felt so free on his back. And complete, somehow: like she had lived her whole life waiting for this one moment to pass.
She dismissed those thoughts, and the joy she felt, when her keen eyesight picked up the targets fleeing through the forest ahead.
“Do you see them?” Gabriel asked.
“I do,” she replied.
“Be ready.”
Before they arrived, a defensive fireball launched from the forest. It struck Gabriel in the underside, but his scales seemed to absorb the blow easily. The flames momentarily wrapped around his body, and Sevilla created a quick shield of Air to protect herself. The fire vanished half a second later. Gabriel didn’t seem to suffer any lasting damage: Sevilla did notice a slight darkening under his wing area after the impact, but that was it.
Gabriel breathed ice down on Medeia and her minions. Everything struck by his breath immediately froze solid, as if doused in liquid nitrogen. Trees broke away, shattering when they hit the ground. Those vampires that didn’t shelter behind the pines faced a similar fate.
Medeia had created a shield of Air for herself but Sevilla dispelled it easily—it was good to finally be free of Midnight’s magic suppression.
Gabriel turned around for another pass and breathed again. This time Medeia dove behind a pine. Gabriel pulled up and hovered in place. Sevilla launched a Weave and tore the tree out by its roots, revealing the cowering vampire witch.
Medeia immediately created a dark cloud above her to protect her from the sun’s rays. At the same time a black mist materialized in front of her, a smear in the fabric of the world that repelled all light around it, and she hurled it skyward, forming a black missile. Sevilla recognized it as a powerful work of the Death affinity—if it struck Gabriel, he would be sorely wounded even with his resilient scales. It took longer to create such a deadly Strengthwork, which was why Medeia had probably chosen to commence the fight with a simpler fireball.
Sevilla immediately issued the countering Weave, pouring much Death into it, and swept it in the path of the vile smear, narrowly deflecting it.
Gabriel was already breathing his next blast and he caught the vampire witch off guard. One of Medeia’s minions leaped in front of her, sparing her from most of the ice, but her right leg was squarely hit, freezing her to the ground.
Medeia raised a shield of Air and deflected Gabriel’s next blows. Frozen as she was to the ground, Medeia was on the defensive, and the exchange that followed was essentially a war of attrition, with Sevilla countering and dispelling the witch’s shield and Medeia constantly raising it again.
Medeia was slowly outpacing Sevilla, however, because the witch had imbibed fresh dragon blood that morning, drinking a poor dragon to his death. Sevilla had never agreed with the practice, and hadn’t partaken in all the time she had been in Midnight—it wasn’t right to forcefully take blood from anyone, especially to enhance one’s own powers. Sevilla had survived on the blood offered to her by the other vampires.
Medeia also wore more bone accessories than Sevilla, which allowed her to Siphon more than her. Yes, the witch had the advantage.
At the rate Medeia was recovering from each blow, the vampire witch would soon return to the offensive, regardless of whether she was rooted to the ground or not. Sevilla knew Medeia would soon bring the attack to them.
“I can’t get through her defenses,” Sevilla shouted at Gabriel.
“Drink my blood,” Gabriel said.
“No,” Sevilla said. “I swore to myself that I’d never use the blood of dragons to fill myself with power. Especially after being with you. It’s wrong.”
“You must,” Gabriel said.
“But the amount I’d need to draw would weaken you,” Sevilla said. “It’s not like the small prick I gave you in your bedchamber!”
“Do it,” Gabriel said. “Before we lose the advantage.”
She glanced doubtfully at his thick scales. “How?”
And then she saw a small portion of the scales near her hand fade away, replaced with the silky skin of the man she loved.
“Drink!” Gabriel commanded.
She dispelled Medeia’s latest shield, and while Gabriel breathed ice, Sevilla bent over, impelling her fangs to grow so that she could drive them into the soft flesh. She drank deeply, as fast as she was able. There was more blood flowing in him in this form than in his human state, so she imbibed a little more than she would have if he remained a man. She felt the incredible power coursing through her veins, and she suddenly became greedy, unable to stop herself. She forgot where she was, everything around her. She forgot Gabriel. All she wanted was that blood. She wanted more. More.
Everything.
“Quickly!” Gabriel said.
His booming voice roused her, and Sevilla ripped her fangs away, sending a stream of dragon blood into the air at the same time.
Multiple smears of Death were tearing toward them from the ground.
Just in time Sevilla countered the terrible blows.
Filled with power, she launched black missiles of her own and rained down Death on Medeia and her remaining minions. The missiles punched through the trees, seeking out the vampires in their hiding places and blackening them.
Gabriel joined in, bringing his deadly cold breath to bear, and together they defeated Medeia and her last minions. The dark cloud Medeia had created in the air above the forest dissipated, leaving only the protective cloud Sevilla had made.
“We must completely destroy the body,” Sevilla said. “Otherwise, with dragon blood still flowing through her veins, it’s possible she might heal even from this.”
Gabriel breathed his frigid ice onto all the surrounding trees, and broke them away with his wings and talons, forming a clearing, and then he landed.
Sevilla dismounted, and went to what remained of Medeia’s body. She prepared a Weave of Fire, Death and Darkness, and let it settle on the woman’s corpse. With the dragon blood flowing through her veins, the work was enhanced, and when it activated, the resultant fireball instantly incinerated Medeia, leaving not even dust behind. There were no bones. No nothing.
“It’s done.” Sevilla returned to Gabriel and mounted him. “Let’s go home my gorgeous dragon.”
On the flight back they met up with the other members of the pride, as well as the White Swords, who had been dealing with the undead dragons Medeia had left behind outside the mountain to delay them.
“News, Flame?” Gabriel asked the beautiful red dragon Flame who flew in formation beside them.
“We took care of the undead,” Flame said in a voice that boomed with a power equal to Gabriel’s. “The vampire witch?”
“She won’t be bothering us anymore,” Gabriel replied.
Sevilla leaned down and hugged Gabriel, resting her cheek against the scales of his neck. “I love you, Gabe.”
“Gabe?” Gabriel said in a soft voice she didn’t think was possible for such a big dragon. “So we’re calling each other pet names, now? What should I call you, then? Vamp?”
She giggled. “Whatever you want. Though Sevilla is nice. I like hearing my name on your lips.”
“And I yours,” Gabriel said. “Have I told you how much I love you yet, Sevilla?”
“You have,” Sevilla said. How could she forget that moment, when he spoke what he thought were his last words while his
head was on the chopping block, and the executioner had raised the ax to end his life. I love you, Sevilla. “Besides, actions speak louder than words.”
“And so they do,” Gabriel told her.
“You two are disgusting,” a great bronze dragon said from where he flew in formation nearby, his voice thundering. Sevilla had heard the others address him as Brazen. “You know we can hear you, right? Dragons have extremely sensitive hearing. ‘Ohhh Gabey baby, I lovey dovey you!’ ‘Oh my sexy vamp, I love you right back!’ Gahh!”
Sevilla leaned to one side to glance at the pride members below. Racing through the trees, the shifters matched the casual pace of the dragons. They were all in their natural form—lions, plus two bears, a wolf, an elk, and a falcon. She wondered if they could hear, too: all shifters had enhanced hearing.
“This is a talk we’ll have to resume later,” Sevilla softly told her dragon. “In the privacy of our bedroom.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Gabriel said.
Epilogue
Jett stood just inside the door that led to the palatial balcony. Beside him, Ariel, his love, his savior, held his hand. The two of them gazed out upon the crowd that had gathered in front of the main palace beyond, just underneath the balcony.
“They look so... normal,” Ariel said. “It’s hard to believe that only a few days ago they were locked in a war against a rogue vampire band.”
“Yes,” Jett said. “The very heart and soul of Midnight was at stake. And of all of North America. Somehow, we won.” He squeezed her hand tightly. “Because of you.”
“No,” Ariel said. “Because of all of us. I was just one small part.”
“But the most important part,” Jett said.
She glanced at him and said, playfully: “To you, maybe.”
“Always,” Jett said.
He ran his gaze along the pillars bordering the balcony on either side. They were covered with intricate dragon carvings. Next he looked at the rainbow-like curtains that hung from the steel rod above it. Simple objects like these had taken on a newness—a freshness—he had never noticed before, and he regarded them as if for the first time. In fact he looked at everything with a new light, ever since coming back from the dead. He was thankful for every living moment. But most of all he was thankful of her. She had rescued him, as she always did. She was his damsel in shining armor.