by Meg Ripley
“That was an oversight,” Natalie admitted. “I should have known, and I apologize for that.”
She was properly remorseful for silencing Susanna, and Thomas was glad to see it. The five of them were gathered in their backyard as the sun made its slow downward trek, lighting up the space underneath it in brilliant yellow and red hues. Charlie, Thomas, and Leslie stood together as Natalie apologized to a visibly uncomfortable Susanna.
“I put my comfort in the illusion of safety above your actual feelings,” she said tearfully. “I failed you, and now there’s a human out there looking to do us real harm.”
“You didn’t fail us,” Susanna said, her cheeks flushed and warm. Thomas wished he could take some of the attention away from her, but this needed to be done.
“I failed you,” Natalie repeated. “I’m your matriarch; I’m supposed to protect you and help you become stronger, not make you think you’re weak and ineffective.”
To everyone’s surprise, she dropped to her knees and hung her head in shame. Susanna stared at her, open mouthed, until she remembered the customary gesture of forgiveness and held out one shaking palm.
Natalie pressed her face against it and burst into tears, and Charlie came behind her to help her up. Thomas knew the tears were most likely because of her pregnancy, but Susanna looked grateful all the same, though her cheeks were still a little pink with embarrassment. After she’d risen, Natalie insisted on leading the charge into the field herself, but Thomas turned her down.
“Susanna and I are going to take point on this one,” he said, his voice sounding more confident than he felt. “These were her flashes, and it could even be a human from her bloodline.” Though I hope it isn’t, he thought. He knew it would hurt her more than anyone else if it turned out she was somehow linked to this crazy assailant.
“I need to do this,” she said to Natalie, her green eyes burning with determination. “I kept quiet on this, and I know I should have spoken up earlier.”
“It’s not your fault; I shut you down,” their matriarch reminded her.
“That may be, but I have to do this. Let me take point.”
Natalie frowned, then finally nodded. She hesitated before she spoke again.
“I don’t like it,” she said. “But I respect it.”
That was all Susanna wanted, Thomas knew. She was never the type to need praise or extra affection, only the type to demand she be given what she was due. It was part of the reason he’d fallen in love with her. His eyes traveled over her sharp features now, and he was happy to see that she looked oddly at peace as they headed toward the squat building on the horizon. After they’d walked a mile past the edge of the Doyle property, they caught sight of the barn. Susanna let out a cry that was a mixture of pain and relief when she saw it, and Thomas shivered, as though he were feeling the echoes of whatever had caused her to shout. As they got closer, they could see it was a faded, rust-red barn that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. When they were a hundred feet away, the five of them stopped and stared at the building, huddled together in fear and anticipation.
“Why do I feel so…cold?” Leslie asked, her brown eyes glossy as she gazed at the structure. “Why is this place making me feel so bad?”
“I don’t know,” Susanna said. “But I really think I’m gonna need a vacation after this.”
Thomas laughed, a dry chuckle that sounded more like twigs snapping in the grass. Then it dawned on him that the sound really was twigs snapping in the grass, and they all whirled around, ready to lunge toward whoever it was.
Standing not twenty feet away from them was a wiry man with an unkempt beard and baggy black sweats. He was holding two guns, one in each hand; they were identical, down to their sawed-off barrels. Thomas had to stare for nearly a full ten seconds before he realized who it was: Frank Donovan, the human who ran Frank’s tires. What the hell was he doing here?
“Frank?” Natalie asked nervously. She took a step forward, putting herself in the front of the group, and the man swung one of his guns wide until it settled on her head. Leslie screamed, and he moved his second gun to settle on her at chest level.
He grinned, and Thomas saw that his teeth were yellowed with flecks of brown on the surface. “Yeah, it’s old Frank. Finally remembered me, eh? Finally remembered I exist?” The muscles in his arms were twitching, and Thomas didn’t like what that meant for his trigger finger.
“What do you mean?” Thomas asked loudly, hoping to split the man’s attention. What the hell are you doing? asked a voice in his head, and he wasn’t sure if it was meant for him or the man with the guns.
“You know what I mean, freak,” Frank growled, his eyes dark with hatred. “I know what you’ve been doing. Think you can drive us out of town? Out of this state?” his hands tightened on the handles as he screeched at them, spit flying out of his mouth. “Guess again. You can’t keep the humans drugged up with memory serums forever, and I got an antidote. Know what that means? I figured it out, freaks; old Frank figured it out!”
“Figured what out?” Susanna asked then, and she didn’t even flinch when he moved one of his guns to her. Her face hardened, but she didn’t move.
“That you guys are demons, senorita,” he sneered. “Seen you with my own eyes, sprouting fur and claws as sharp as the day is long. Tried to tell the others, but they didn’t believe me. It’s those damn drugs you use to keep us docile. They wanted to see you for themselves, and since they’re not enlightened, like me…” he laughed, and the sound was crazed. “They didn’t see you. But I see you.” His smile slipped as he gazed at Susanna, and Thomas wanted to leap in front of her and shield her from everything—even his steely gaze.
“So, you were trying to kill us from the start?” Susanna’s voice didn’t portray any fear, while Thomas was struggling to keep his pulse under control. How can I get us out of this?
“Not from the start,” Frank admitted. “At first, when I didn’t know for sure you were demons, I just wanted you gone. Then I saw you change, when I was hiding down in the community center…I guess you guys do have blind spots.”
Thomas looked at him then. “Blind spots?”
Frank beamed, looking genuinely proud of himself. “You all are nose blind, just like any other human. Can’t smell your own shit. So, I took advantage of that.” He paused, and his smile faltered. “Not literally. But I dressed in some of your clothes, and used the rest to make quilts and blanket so you wouldn’t see me coming. You could pick up a little of my scent, but not enough to pin me. Once I figured out you couldn’t see humans clearly in visions, I was all set.”
A frisson of terror moved through Thomas’ body, and he didn’t have to think of more questions to keep the man occupied—they just came pouring out of him.
“How did you know about the visions?”
Frank smiled nastily. “You think you’re the only people who know how to spy? I’ve been a lot closer than you think, Loverboy.” He winked, and a wave of revulsion moved through him. He must have seen us the other day.
“Why are you doing this?” Thomas demanded. “Why are you messing with us? We were going to fix your shop for you, and then move on with our lives. We had nothing to do with its destruction, you have to know that.”
“If you hadn’t been here, none of this would have happened!”
Thomas sucked air into his lungs sharply as Frank swung both of his guns toward him until they both pointed at his chest. His heart stopped, and he heard screams, but they seemed soft and distant.
Frank’s mouth set into a thin line, and he narrowed his eyes.
“No,” Thomas said frantically. He saw Natalie and Charlie exchange a look, but he didn’t dare move his head to see what it was. “Frank. Why are you doing this?”
“Because my niece got stuck by one of you beasts, and when I demanded she cut ties with him, she cut me off instead!” Thomas noticed that even the whites of Frank’s eyes were yellow. “My own flesh and blood shunned me. I know you don
’t care about humans, but my niece was the last good thing I had in this god forsaken town.”
Frank’s thumbs pulled down on the hammers of both guns, and adrenaline shot through Thomas’ body. “I didn’t get to burn you to death, but I’ll burn you after. Wanna know something?” he smirked. “Your girl Leslie wasn’t completely wrong about the burial ground. There’s shifter bodies under that barn. Men like me have been putting them there for years. That’s why you’re all drawn to this land. That’s why you’re all transfixed on it.”
That’s how you snuck up on us, Thomas realized. Some weird shifter magic. Thanks a lot, metaphysics.
“Now, I think I’ll get this over with,” he said finally, and his voice was choked with tears. “None of you try anything funny, now. I’ll get you one at a time. Would have been better in the barn, but then you had to go and figure out my plan.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You know, it’s—”
A loud boom sounded, and the next moment, Frank was dropping toward the ground, both guns falling from his lifeless hands. Thomas blinked rapidly, trying to make sense out of the scene before him; everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. The grass fluttered beneath his body as his weight settled on it, and a dark red stain was spreading out around him, turning the soil brown and wet. His eyes finally told his brain that Frank’s head was missing—it had been torn clean off his shoulders by the lioness standing over him, wearing an expression as bewildered as the rest of the pride’s.
Susanna stared around at them with her eyes wide, panting from the effort of ripping the man’s head off. She’d gotten over to him before he realized she’d moved; but how? Before he could ask, she started speaking.
“Everything slowed down,” Susanna said numbly. “It came to me in a flash…and then it just slowed down. And I got to him before he could…” she trailed off, and her vivid green eyes filled with tears. The boom must have come from her faster-than light movement.
Natalie was crying, and Charlie wrapped his arms around his wife as she sobbed into his chest. Leslie was staring at the body, unable to pull her eyes away from the darkening red pool around his frame. Her face was bone-white, and Thomas had a feeling she wouldn’t be volunteering for any more adventures for a while.
Susanna let out a strangled sob, and Thomas felt his heart wrench in his chest even as relief started to wash into his bloodstream. “It’s okay,” Thomas said, hurrying forward and stepping over Frank’s corpse. “It’s okay. We’re safe now. You saved us.”
“We’re safe?” Susanna asked. She turned her eyes toward him quizzically and drew in a deep, shuddering breath, apparently gathering her air to speak again.
Then, for the first time ever, she fainted before he got the chance to faint first.
****
They sat together in their wicker rocking chairs every day afterward, holding hands and sipping mixed drinks while they stared at the sunset. Susanna would sometimes go out before the sunset started and sit on the grass, ripping individual blades from the soil absentmindedly until Thomas joined her. After everything that had happened, it felt nice to be able to stare blankly ahead without anticipation of anything ruining their marvelous sunset. Evan would drop by on occasion, or Natalie, but for the most part, everyone’s lives returned to their normal swing. Only Susanna and Thomas seemed frozen for a while—trapped in place like ghostly images of their former selves.
“Anything today?” he would ask as he slipped his hand into hers.
“Just normal stuff,” she would say. Or, “Kylie is going to lose her keys down a storm drain tomorrow; it’ll tie up our pride’s schedule since we’ll be down one car for the caravan.” Then they would talk about television, or black holes; anything at all that wasn’t about Sierra Leandra. Thomas kept thinking about the vacation she’d mentioned, wondering if it was closer now, or further away.
Sometimes when he spoke she wouldn’t say anything, and he knew that she was thinking about seeing Frank’s body crumple to the ground, or how close Thomas had been to being shot to death. She wouldn’t move, and it seemed like she wasn’t even breathing, so he would put an arm around her shoulders as she let her feelings spread out and float away down the gentle slope of their back yard and out over the fields, toward the fertile farmland and the promise it held.
Then she started coming to him with predictions; just weather changes at first, and then a few basketball game scores a day or more in advance. It warmed his heart immeasurably to see the twinkle in her deep green eyes as she spoke about the flash of clairvoyance excitedly, stumbling over her words in trademark Susanna fashion. Slowly, the thin layer of ice that had surrounded her since they’d been targeted started to crack and fall away. She was laughing again, and singing. She stopped hiding when their friends came over, and they all visibly reacted to the change in her demeanor. On one particularly cool evening, he sat next to her in the grass, and she turned to him with a slow smile moving across her face.
“Guess what I saw today?” she asked.
“What?” he said, expecting to hear about new horse at the stables just outside of town, or the renewal of their favorite sitcom.
“The mountains,” she answered. “Covered in snow. Beautiful peaks dusted in fluffy white flakes, three or four feet of it falling at a time. A lodge, some rum, and a fire.”
Thomas blinked, not daring to believe what he was hearing. “Where might this ski lodge be?” he asked casually.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe Aspen? Perhaps Vermont?” She closed her eyes thoughtfully. “I’m not quite sure, but I do know there was a hot tub on the patio, which was also covered.”
Thomas turned to his mate and kissed her on the lips. When he pulled back, she giggled, and the roughened chuckle was like music to his ears. “What was that for?”
“Just because,” he answered. “Isn’t that reason enough?”
Susanna pecked him on the cheek and gazed at him dreamily, the sunset painting her skin even brighter and warmer than usual. “It’s reason enough for me.”
THE END
Fated Mate Of The Dragon Princes
A Story By Eva Pierce
Story Description
As an avid student of Renaissance era literature, Sarah dreams of dragons. But when these dreams become particularly vivid--showing her two mysterious dragon princes who also assume irresistibly gorgeous human forms--she knows somehow that her nocturnal imaginings are far more real than she imagined.
Regal princes of the Planet Vertania, an emerald gem flying high in the universe, Lachan and Gabriel enjoy a carefree life in both their dragon and human forms. When their father commands them to find their fated princesses, however, they are dismayed to discover that they are both destined to wed the same woman: an enchanting Earthling named Sarah Coleman.
Invading her dreams and reality with their romantic charms and seductive ways, the brothers are forced to compete for the affections of witty, spirited Sarah. Could it be, however, that both of the dragon princes are tied and bound to one particular princess?
Only in flight did they discover true freedom.
Although the brothers Lachan and Gabriel reigned as the crown princes of Vertania, they gladly exchanged their royal silks and lofty gold jeweled crowns for the regal beauty and divine strength of their nature made forms.
As often as possible the brothers abandoned their daily duties and took leave of their home palace; a sparkling, towering structure of mint hued domes, towers and turrets, bordered and encircled by sprawling balconies and porches and topped with a royal flag that depicted a mighty dragon king in all its mystical glory.
Assuming their form in a single smooth flourish, the brothers launched their newly morphed bodies—enchanted concoctions of majestic wings, long contoured tails, lengthy noses and gleaming eyes, and claws that cut the air before them—high into the air, looking down upon the crystalline kingdom that they called home.
The world was theirs and they knew as much; their green second skin fitting much like
a king’s coat as they raced with a whisper soft bank of billowing clouds beneath a glowing golden sun.
Yet as much as the brothers savored their freedom and reveled in their singular strength, they never did lose sight of the fact that they did not rule and reign as the kings of their land. Indeed, that title belonged only to the man who occupied the throne room of their lustrous home castle.
No matter how high they ventured to fly, their mighty forms traversing the vast expanse of a pure gem green sky, they knew that the call of a single bugle could send them careening in a downward spiral in the direction of the ground beneath them, landing finally before the gold double doors that fronted their emerald castle.
Returning with frustrated sighs to their more conventional, more manageable human forms, the brothers slipped on the long bejeweled tunics and sleek black leather pantaloons that comprised their earthbound wardrobe.
Wincing as the tenor of their father’s calling bugle grew louder and louder by the moment, the brothers rushed inward into the vast tiled entryway of their grand childhood home, rushing headfirst down the long winding corridors that would take them to their father’s throne room.
Soon they found themselves crossing the arched entryway that would take them to the glowing centerpiece of their shining regal residence; a room whose walls glowed with a layer of bejeweled forest green tapestries, exquisite artworks overseen by a lush vaulted ceiling and a glimmering bank of candle-lined chandeliers.
Forming the head of this illustrious room was a velvet-cushioned golden throne, the sitting place of a stoic silver-haired man who looked down upon his two sons with grave, concerned eyes.
“My sons,” the good King Dracor spoke finally, his loud booming voice filling the room as his sons stood just a bit straighter in response. “You missed our meeting of council this morn, an important and relevant event that passes just once per moon on the Vertanian calendar.” He paused here, leaning forward on his high seat as he continued, “Where, may I ask, were you?”