“Enya?” Cole had a glass of champagne in his hand–crisp, cold and reminding him of his own world. He had been surprisingly half enjoying himself, letting her do most of the talking, while he watched the colors swirl around him. This world did have good aspects as well as bad, and soon they would all be his. He had been picturing himself ruling over them and perhaps throwing a ball as grand as this to celebrate. But the bigger picture left his mind as Enya became pale, and his vision tunneled to her eyes.
“I'm alright,” she replied, putting a hand on the table. “I just...”
And then she wavered again, shivering with such a passion that he was forced to grab both of her hands.
“Your hands are like ice, love,” he said. Her collarbone was covered in sweat, and he realized how glassy her eyes looked. “What's going on?”
“Nothing. It's nothing,” she closed her eyes. “It'll pass, I promise.”
“What will pass?” he asked, and she winced.
“Sometimes, it just…we should keep asking people.”
“Forget people,” he said. “You're no use to me dead.”
“I…” her sentences weren't coming out in full and she groaned, loud enough to be heard over the clink of champagne glasses. Her teeth were chattering, and he could hear that her heartbeat was out of control. “Oh, God.”
To avoid drawing attention, he pulled her close as if he was simply showing her affection. In his arms, she felt so small, so fragile.
“Tell me what's going to happen,” he said in her ear.
“I need to lie down,” she managed. “Could you take me–”
“You aren't going to make it home,” he replied, looking around for the entrance back to the hotel lobby. “Here, give me the scroll and hold onto my arm.”
“Where are we going?”
Her voice sounded far away and childish.
“This is a hotel, isn't it?” he asked. “And you need to lie down? The solution seems logical enough to me.”
“Cole, the rooms here are–”
“Never mind that,” he answered, as her teeth chattered harder. Although her hands were like ice, her body burned, and he knew that she must have been feeling ill half the night. “Come on.”
He dragged her through the lobby, barely managing to convince her to sit in a chair, while he went to the front desk. She was hunched over, eyes closed, and he couldn't take his gaze off her while he ordered a room.
Humans were so mortal–so fragile. Was this how she was to perish, close to immortality, but not quite within reach? He opened and closed his palms as they registered for a room, fighting for magic, but knowing none would come. He had truly drained his supply to transform into a dragon, and he wouldn't have any for a few days yet. If he was on Umora, he could heal her in a moment. He hated this planet for that. Hated the pull of its gravity and the quality of its air.
What startled him most of all, however, was how worried about her he was. He told himself it was because his chance of ruling slipped away with every gasping breath she took. She was the only person he could trust, and her mind was always half clouded with pain and fear. But he knew deep in his heart that the truth was about more than the scroll. It had been about more than the scroll from the moment he saw her.
This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be heartless and cruel, an ice king ruling with an iron fist. That was how they described him on Umora. They bowed to his brothers and his father out of respect; but they bowed to him out of fear. How much would they fear him if they could see him now, helping this fragile girl under the covers?
“It's so cold,” she said, the blankets drawn up. “This room is like ice.”
“It's not,” he glanced at the thermostat, the primitive technology confusing him. “It's set as high as it will go, I think.”
“I'm sure it is.” She wrapped the blanket tighter, drawing it up to her chin. “Jesus, I can't even think straight. Ow.” Her eyes clouded again, and she gritted her teeth.
He was helpless, standing by the foot of the bed, his empty palms flexing for nothing. He felt his heart half shatter when she looked up at him. He was trying to remain calm, trying to remain impartial. But nobody could remain impartial when such eyes pleaded for help.
“Can you–”
“I can't,” he said, although it nearly broke him to admit it. “I told you that the dragon transformation would use up my stockpile. I have nothing left, even if I wanted to.”
“Would you want to?” She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.
“Yes.” He was standing paralyzed at the foot of her bed, his own chest rising and falling harshly. “If I could.”
She considered that answer, and then held her hand out.
“Come,” she said. “Please. You're warm, at least.”
“I…” He was about to protest about the indecency of it, the lack of proper form. But despite her pain, she looked so beautiful–so tempting–so angelic. He couldn't stop himself from moving forward.
He gently climbed onto the bed beside her, easing her body until she was mostly in his arms. She buried her face in his chest, and he squeezed tightly, resting his chin on the top of her head.
“The scroll–”
“The scroll will still be there in the morning,” he said. “I'm not sure that you will be.”
“This isn't death,” she said, although it felt like it. “When I feel like this, I always assume this is a worse fate than death. Like I'm being punished for something I did in a past life.”
“What could you have possibly done in a past life to deserve this?” he wondered.
“I didn't solve a scroll for another Dragon Lord?”
He laughed at that, brushing her hair away from her face.
“Probably,” he said. “Maybe we've done this all before.”
“Is that a thing?” she managed. “Past lives?”
“No,” he sighed. “There is only one life as far as we know. For some of us, it's longer than others, but there is only one.”
“Is there a heaven?” she asked. “Up in the clouds, where you are from?”
He was silent for quite a while on that front.
“There may be,” he said. “I'm sure you'll find out one day. Although, it's unlikely that I'll meet you there.”
She grasped his hand as a fresh wave of pain hit her. Their fingers intertwined, and he didn't want to let go.
“How often does this happen?”
“Not so often,” she said. “Although more often than not lately. The weeks when you first touched me were blessed.”
“And they will be again,” he said.
“When?”
“Soon. A few days, at least. Unless,” he thought, carefully, “I could go back.”
“Go back where?”
“To Umora,” he replied. “It would replenish the supply faster.”
“You haven't been going back?” That made her raise her head in surprise. “Why not?”
He sighed, moving the stray hair again.
“It's complicated, Enya,” he said. “And it takes far more energy than you have at the moment. Rest now. We'll take about it later.”
She seemed to accept that answer, lying her head on his chest again. The spasms soon subsided, and she lay peacefully, their hands still intertwined.
Making sure that she was okay, was the first time in a long time that he had not thought about the scroll. She tossed and turned half the night, and he made sure that she was comfortable, covered, and safe.
When her hand squeezed his in her sleep, perhaps for comfort, he squeezed back, his eyes never closing.
This was not part of the plan; this girl clung to him like he was her lifeline.
He was her lifeline, he realized, as the dawn sun rose. Even without magic, he could feel her life force dwindling. She had to trust him. She had to work hard, because there was no other hope.
But was that why she lay so peacefully upon him, looking more comfortable than she had since they ha
d met?
Did she feel for him what he felt for her? Confusion, riddled with fondness and warmth in the heart?
Her phone which had been left on the bedside table went off, and he got to it before she did.
Class said the alarm, but he didn't really care. She needed to sleep, that much was clear. And in his heart, he didn't want her to move.
It was half past ten when her eyes finally started to flutter open. He relaxed his grip, so she could move as she needed to, stretching, but not reacting in shock when she found him there.
“Have you been watching over me all night?” she asked.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, deflecting the question.
“Better.” She sank onto the pillow beside him, taking her hand. “Did you use magic?”
“No,” he replied. “I just was here.”
“Apparently, that's enough,” she smiled at him, and his heart warmed.
“Apparently, it is,” he said.
Chapter 6
“I didn't know what to bring you,” he said, as she pulled open the door. “So, I brought you everything.”
Enya's mouth fell open in a giggle as Cole made his way through the hotel room door. There was free breakfast that ended half an hour after she woke up, so she sent him down to get it while she showered. There were no fresh clothes, since their sleepover hadn’t been planned, but at least she felt more alive.
“Did you bring me the entire buffet?” she said, as he set down three plates piled high. “How much do you think I eat?”
“I wanted you to have choices,” he admitted, as the plates almost toppled over.
“Do you eat?” she asked, and he smirked.
“Yes, darling.”
“Sorry, silly question,” she sat down at the desk. But Enya's interest in the food was second only to the scroll. She was typing frantically on her phone, and then scribbling on a spare napkin.
“I've got it,” she said suddenly. Cole looked at her in shock.
“What?”
“I cracked it,” she said, squinting at her scribbles. “That old man was right. Are you ready?”
He felt his stomach lurch as he sat at the end of the bed.
“Yes?” he said.
In a way, he’d gotten used to the fact that she would never solve it. Of course, he still had his mind on the goal. But the idea of spending all this time with her, in a constant limbo, did not sadden him.
She cleared her throat.
“In front of the pillars of Hercules, you will find the key. On this island, there exists a confederation of kings, of great and marvelous power. You will have sway of the world, if you climb the tower.”
“What the hell does that mean?” he asked, in confusion. The words were too fast, and he felt like they were no closer to what they needed.
“It's Plato,” she said. “Plato was...don't worry, it doesn't matter. And apparently, someone is either quoting him or Plato knew of magic, which explains so much. The fact is, I remember those verses. He's referring to Atlantis.”
“Well, where's that?” he asked, and she sighed.
“No one even thought Atlantis was real.” She typed a few more things on her phone. “I mean, it appears in hundreds of things as myths, but it looks like Plato thought it was Gibraltar….”
“Which is?”
“Very far from here,” she said. “We'd have to travel.”
“We?” he answered, and she shrugged.
“Do you honestly think I'd let you get this far and not come along for the ride?”
“What about your life here?” he asked, even though secretly, he was thrilled that she was considering coming along. “You have class, you have–”
“What difference does my life here make if you are going to take control of Earth?” she asked. “Or, let me put it another way; without you, I'm going to die. The safest place is with you. In more ways than one.”
He paused, picking at the bedspread.
“Is that the only reason?” he asked, cautiously. “Safety?”
Enya paused, and his heart thudded in his chest.
“No,” she said, coming to sit beside him. “It's not.”
He turned to look at her, and found that their lips were inches apart.
He knew this was a terrible idea. He knew that she was so different from him, so fragile, stuck in human form. They had grown up on such different worlds; they were such different creatures.
None of that stopped him from meeting her lips, and pulling her close.
She didn't pull away, nor did she seem surprised by this development. She kissed him back, her lips nipping and biting at his. At first, she was hesitant, but then the kiss deepened. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her warm body against his.
When they finally broke apart, they were both panting.
“Wow,” she said. “I didn't expect that. Sorry, I don't have a toothbrush.”
He laughed at that, taking her hand.
“Do they not teach you humans romance?”
“Of course, they do,” she said. “But nothing taught me about kissing a dragon. Which, by the way, was excellent.”
Her stomach growled then, and her attention went back to breakfast. He let go of her hand, so she could pick at the bagels.
“Do you really want to come with me?” he asked. “Because I would be delighted to have you along.”
“I would,” she said. “I'm not the easiest person to travel with, though. There's meds, as I'm sure you've figured out by now.”
“We'll figure it out,” he assured her. “And my magic should return in a few days, so I'll be able to help you.”
“To cure me?” she asked, and he looked away. Regardless of the developments between them, he couldn't give over his whole heart, not yet. There had been too many times he had trusted and had his trust shattered. Even though she made his heart beat faster, and that he thought he was falling in love, he couldn't give her what she wanted. What if she lied? What if she left him? What if all of this was a ruse?
After all, if his own family had been that way, why would this be any different?”
“I will cure you when we’ve succeeded,” he said, at last. “But I’ll help you.”
“Mmm,” she didn't seem impressed, but her mind was already on the next step. “When do you want to go?”
“As soon as possible,” he said. “Without putting you in danger. You still need rest after last night, and I'm not willing to take any more chances.”
“I'm fine,” she tried to assure him. “But if we're going to be headed to a country where my doctor isn't, I need time to gather some meds. And maybe pack a suitcase.”
“I can get you whatever you need,” he said. “Why don't you stay here and give me a list?”
“I’m not going to break,” she said. “You need to believe in me. I mean, I got this far without you, didn't I?”
“That you did,” he said. “But we need to make sure that is true a little longer. Now, make me a list. Include things like paying your rent, anything that you need to do so your life isn't in shambles, should you return to it.”
“There won't be a return,” she was clear about that. “If we don't succeed, you know I’m not coming back here.”
He held her gaze for a long moment, and then sighed.
“Make me a list,” he said, turning to look out the window. He didn't want to tell her that she wouldn't die under his watch, even if they failed. Even if saving her was his last dying breath, he would probably do it. He hated himself for it; feelings this intense scared him. But it was true, and she'd be able to read it in his face if she looked at him any longer. “I'm going to extend our stay here. You're comfortable, and I don't want to overexert you more than you need.”
“Are you going to get my clothes, too?” she asked, teasing him.
“If that's what I need to do.” He pointed to the note paper on the desk. “Write.”
She made a list and handed over her apartment key, coming to term
s with the fact that she would likely never return to it. Enya had never been obsessed with material goods; her apartment was sparse. Anything of value to her was still at her parent's house.
Her parents. She fiddled with her phone after Cole left, contemplating on whether she should text them. But what would she say?
I think I have a boyfriend? He's going to take over the world, and he's a dragon?
My boyfriend can cure me?
I just kissed a Dragon?
Going to Atlantis. Brb?
Clearly, there was not a right answer.
She climbed back under the warm covers, enjoying the simplicity of the hotel room. For when they left here, their entire life would be different.
Cole returned in two hours, and she chuckled as she let him in for the second time that day. He was even more burdened than that morning–with suitcases, and a back pack, as well as juggling various things in his hand.
“Thank you,” she said, as she realized he had gotten everything on the list. “That was fast.”
“It's easy when you know where you're going.” He winked at her. “I didn't end up going in the wrong direction.”
“Are you ever going to let me live that down?” she answered, as she sat back on the bed.
“Maybe,” he said. “How are you feeling? I assume that there’s a flight we have to take to get to where we need to go.”
“I'm alright,” she said. “There is a flight that leaves tonight, but I don't know if that's too soon. It’s expensive.”
“Hmm,” he flexed his palms, and she saw a tiny bit of magic spark. She looked at him, hopeful, and he winced.
“I could probably convince someone at the airport to give us a flight for free,” he said. “But that'd be it, we'd be back at zero. So, tell me honestly, how are you feeling?”
“I survived without you for a while,” she said. “And now that you've brought me meds, we'll just have to combat it the old fashion way. Have you ever flown before?”
He smirked, raising an eyebrow.
“Not what I meant,” she cried, throwing a pillow at him with a giggle. “In an airplane. Do you have those?”
The Vampire Touch 1: The Forsaken Page 79