A Dragon’s Witch

by Tina Glasneck

  The archers gathered, as if to repel them, and shot their arrows. They simply bounced off of the dragon’s panzer.

  Horses raced across the field, men screamed out in agony, burning as the beasts created a field of ash and cinder. Black smoke closed around the battlefield. The thick smoke of burnt earth and wood, spiced with the stench of charred flesh, ballooned.

  I was no longer in the clouds, but on the field fighting against the humans, vampires, and werewolves. My hands bled, and fresh blood seeped through my clothes and into the ground like a blood rite offering.

  Again the beast screeched across the sky. “Abele, fight.” His magnificent scream commanded in my head, and for a moment, I wanted nothing more than to obey his every order.

  I came to, pinned down on Mia’s office floor by Honey, Kara, and Mia. What the heck had happened?

  There were different ways of scrying, and although I’d put safety measures in place, they didn’t seem to hold.

  I stopped moving.

  “I think she’s back,” Kara flatly stated. A tendril of her brown hair had come loose from her tightly pulled back ponytail. Honey’s cheek appeared bruised, and Mia grunted and grimaced, holding her ribs.

  “That is not why I asked you here.” Mia pushed up from the floor, dusted herself off, and moved back behind her desk. Kara and Honey, a newer recruit, released me. I knew Honey to be an elite assassin, sent down to Earth after the war between the branches of the gods—specifically the Vanir and Aesir, when Odin then became King, unseating Njord. For her to be holding me down, something was wrong.

  “You can both go now.” She nodded.

  “It’s not every day I need security in the office. I take it you saw something.”

  I still couldn’t wrap my mind around what had happened. Vampires? Werewolves, dragons, and wyvern? Could the scrying have been wrong? I shrugged and remained quiet on the topic. “You have something you need me to review?”

  “I take it you will tell me after you’ve processed it all.” She sighed. “Yes. It looks like there is more information you need to tell the queen about, but last night, Simone noticed a new entry in the family tree line. We know from our holy mother, Freyja took six dragons’ eggs before the dragons were shut away.”

  “And those dragons?”

  “We know of Alistair in Scotland, and he has already taken his position in the Order. He lives close to Inverness. He isn’t a problem, besides his sometimes moonlighting as Nessie.”

  “Uh, the Loch Ness Monster is Jaz’s brother?”

  “In this job, nothing is impossible.”

  “And the others?” I asked.

  “Yes, but we have not found them all, but I called you in as we found information as to one of the dragon’s names on the family tree.” She squinted and looked at the royal tapestry projected on the wall, and there she pointed to the name, Donovan. “Donovan. No last name, but his story seems to appear in Athens. He later popped up in the middle of fourteenth century France, fighting in the Hundred Years’ War, and seemed to be moving north, but no other information was available.”

  “He fought in the war?” The Hundred Years’ War was something I’d heard about before my shift into immortality. The illustrious battle between England and House of Valois over who should rule the French Kingdom. The war lasted one hundred years, through five generations.”

  “Did he serve under those kingdoms and not try to take over? No one noticed his less-than-human side?” I couldn’t fathom a male dragon not getting angry and deciding to make the world bow to him. Everything I knew said if they didn’t align to his expectations, he would have been corrupted and taken what he wanted. What made him not act, I wondered?

  “I expect he is a shifter, which allowed him to shift into an older appearance, a little gray hair here, a wrinkle there. I believe when Jaz passed through the portal, it unlocked time and allowed the supernatural to pass through. And not only did those of a certain goodness come through, but also those with evil intent.”

  “He’s not good or bad, Mia. For god’s sake, we don’t know what he is. He’s simply a name on a tapestry.”

  Mia shrugged and moved to the edge of her desk. She cracked open one of the larger tomes stacked on her desk. “Well, there is this record of Joan of Arc burning at the stake.”

  “Joan was burned by the English by the orders of the Cardinal of Winchester. If Donovan was a dragon, he had no reason to want a mere mortal to be burned. You and I both know thousands of women were burned at the stake, accused of witchcraft. You think these were sacrifices to the dragon, Donovan, who made his way to England?”

  “There is no direct connection, but he wouldn’t be the first dragon to demand a sacrifice to help an army win its battles.”

  “Yes, but what do we know of him?” I asked.

  “The sixteenth century, according to this scroll, showed a rise in paranormal activity, so much so that when the ancestors found it, they erased all copies of the decrees. There was a rise in murder against the supernatural: orcs were hung upside down in the forests, as gifts to the gods. Their blood was used in ceremonies believed to reverse vampirism. Mermaids and sirens were skinned, and then there was the situation with the werewolves. They, too, were attacked, all under the order of some mighty dragon.”

  It all sounded like fiction. I waited for Mia to laugh, but she didn’t crack a smile. I’d never seen an orc except when watching Lord of the Rings. They and mermaids were evidently something she’d just thought up. After all, what good was it for those creatures to be out in society if they were going to be victimized for their magic?

  “So, there was an assault on magic?”

  “And all magical beings. Witchcraft, ancestral magic from the mages, was all outlawed under this dragon’s reign.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  She laughed, and her eyes twinkled. “None of those things worked as the vampires continue to exist, and the underground is still seeking a sacrifice. That is why Jaz was attacked. Many on the black magic market think a dragon’s blood will heal them.”

  “Because a dragon’s blood started the vampirism?”

  Mia nodded. “Even more, it seems to be because they’ve tried almost everything else. It is sort of like the belief still held where ground ivory holds medicinal properties and can cure everything from a headache to boils.”

  “Aspirin can cure a headache.”

  “Yeah, well, try telling that to all of these bloodsuckers who are looking at your best friend as a cure for their disease.”

  That explained the rise in activity, the busy nights and sleepless days.

  “So, what’s my assignment?”

  Mia leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms and frowned. Her pretty face practically puckered as she seemed to truly think about what she wished to say. Mia didn’t spout off at the mouth. She was more bookish and conscientious. No one would call her a fool for sure.

  “To stay on task, and eliminate any and all threats against the queen.”

  TINK

  In the back alley, behind the seedy downtown club, with the loud music blaring nearby, I moved in on my target: the large, brawny vampire with perfect skin, a pompadour and red eyes. The tang of metal spiced the air.

  And leaning in to the sounds, blocking out the music, the chomping, sucking and slurping noises were not to be missed. This big guy’s meal for the night banged against the brick wall; his patent leather shoes kicking in panic before stopping to only dangle.

  “Looks like your prey has stopped struggling, meathead,” I called out.

  Lug Head stopped, raised his head, and dropped the unlucky businessman who must have been looking for an evening “cock” tail—pun intended.

  What fun would it be to stab the big lug in the back, after all of my training? But since I could still hear his heartbeat, no matter how shallow, there was not much I should concern myself with.

  “I needed something to play with,” he spat and wiped the blood from his m
outh and took a step toward me.

  I’d had a bad day. No, I’d had a very bad, no good, awful day where killing a vampire was the respite I needed. I took two steps toward him and waited for him to reach out.

  “You are an abomination,” he sputtered. “How is it you live without consequence?” With a quickness, I moved to stand before him, angled my stake, and struck.

  “Shit.” My stake bounced off of a metal plate he had hidden under his shirt, and he wrapped his thick bratwurst-like fingers around my throat.

  “Ignis,” I whispered and my hands lit up. I punched forward, passing through the metal over his chest. The further I moved in his chest, the more he squeezed.

  Pushing through the skin and bone to touch his still-beating heart with my hands, I gasped my command, “Explodere!” And within his torso, I clapped. The thunderous noise reverberated through him, and he exploded into tiny chunks at my feet.

  “When god and the devil met, they clapped hands, you asshole.”

  I wiped the blood and goo from my face, and called 911. Hopefully, the police would merely think the unconscious man had been mugged or attacked by some weird, wild animal. There had been a lot of these attacks lately, and I didn’t like how or what it meant for the city.

  This used to be a safe zone, but with Jaz’s ascension to the Dragon, more and more of these nighttime predators were coming to the forefront for a sip.

  The treaty should still stand, and if not, more agents would be activated to keep the city safe.

  The sounds of sirens kicked me into gear. I raced down the aisle, jumped up and pulled down the ladder to the fire escape and sprinted away. There would only be problems if they saw me, and Erich could make sure the latest man didn’t die (or even turn).

  Sweat raced down my back and dripped from my brow onto the rooftop. I held my side. Under the night sky, I stared out at the city and took a cleansing breath, waiting for the pain to decrease. Just because of the masquerade, I was often residing behind a mask, and tonight wouldn’t be any different. The pain was my reward, as even now, my skin on my side would begin to pucker, as if the gods chiseled in a design or brand into my sensitive skin to match the other marks barely visible to the naked eye.

  Tonight meant I needed to decompress, and remove the tension from my muscles.

  Under the moon’s glow, I moved in the shadows, with my stake in my hand, moving as one with the air’s warm and gentle caress. The pressure to deliver and quash the rising tide of vampire activity seeping into this world kept me on my toes.

  The vampire movement wasn’t new, but there had always been an evil that sought to prey on those weaker. This was my destiny, and the only reason Freyja hadn’t called in her order.

  The sounds of the city bubbled up from the streets below, and the air sizzled. Kara, the Valkyrie, appeared before me, her raven-black hair pinned on top of her head, her wings tucked behind her, and her Asgardian armor refracted parts of the moonlight.

  “You seem distracted tonight,” Kara commented and crossed her arms.

  I wondered if she’d been watching me fight Lug Head.

  Damn, I wasn’t sure if I should be upset or wonder which side she was on.

  “Nope,” I snipped. “Just in battle mode.” Tonight I didn’t want to deal with what it meant to be called by the gods. Kara was their messenger, my direct supervisor, and that was something I had to respect, on most days.

  “Is this about your cheating spouse? You don’t usually need magic to defeat one of his type.”

  I scrunched my face, gritted my teeth, and continued to shadowbox, striking my invisible target.

  “You need not pretend you’re still fighting. Instead, realize you have to find your voice. For you, this means fulfilling your destiny as the vampire hunter you are, and you know what and who the goddess is requesting you to cleanse.”

  I stopped swinging, and shook my head. “Nope.”

  “What is this nope? Certainly not part of your natural vocabulary?” She raised her hand, and I could feel her pulling at my emotions as if examining me under her angelic presence. “You’re hurting?” She cocked her head to the side and frowned.

  Many emotions played within me. I gripped my wooden stake tighter. This wasn’t ideal.

  “You’ve worked too hard to let emotion stop you from your journey. Instead of dancing with shadows, you must prepare for the grand party, and take your stake with you, as your assignment will be there.” Kara retrieved a scroll and handed it to me.

  The one name I never wished to see on an assignment sheet was there: Prince Leif, Erich’s step-brother.

  Cottoned-mouthed, I stared at the name on the paper. My Leif.

  “Your emotions got you into this, and now it is time for you to rise to the goddess’s command.”

  “And if I fail?”

  Kara shook her head. “We must all choose our destiny, and this night is yours. You will either rise to the occasion or fall. The goddess has given you this chance, and you’ve never failed. Why would you seek to give up now before you even begin? This vampire has attacked the queen and must be put down. He has trespassed against the holy ordinances.”

  The wind turned cold.

  “Now, go get ready for the party. Your task awaits you.”

  Kara disappeared, leaving behind a garment bag.

  How was I supposed to kill the man I’d always longed for? Why couldn’t I simply forget him?

  Chapter Five

  Tink

  The move through time came with its own hindrance: cultural references lacked depth, and despite now living in the twenty-first century, I was still a sixteenth-century woman. The wrinkles disappeared with one bite of the apple, and the youth and vitality slammed into me. My heart quickened and beat stronger. The sagging skin snapped back into place. My figure quickly regained its svelteness, and my dyed red hair its bounce. I glided my tongue over my perfect teeth.

  All a gift from the goddess, but at a cost.

  “I can’t believe you wanted to go to see this dressed like some cosplay 80’s cover band, yet again, as if watching the videos on MTV isn’t enough,” I said, and rolled my eyes.

  In my world this would have been an expensive ball or soiree, where the eligible bachelors would come in hopes of finding a wife, but in this world, dating had replaced such as the promises of a simple dance.

  I didn’t quite understand Jaz’s obsession with dressing up, I guessed, but a lot in this world was different than what I’d expected. The journey here had been eye-opening; from men and women wearing pastel-colored hair, loud music in boom boxes, and their culture. It clashed completely with my own.

  “Does my obsession impede upon your European sensibilities?” Jaz asked. “I mean, it took you forever to embrace “99 Luftballons,” and to experience the New Deutsche Welle, right?”

  Thankfully, my memory was perfect, just like my health.

  Each lifetime brought with it new challenges, social circles, and secrets. Like glass was tinted by metal oxides, wisdom was gained through time, and time was what I’d had so much of. Trying to explain those social faux pas came with its own embarrassment for sure, but nothing quite beat this: rock n’ roll of hairbands.

  Jaz shook her head in an older sister sorta way. Of course, what was I to do, but pull the green hooded cloak closer around my waist and act like these fingerless gloves made sense. We’d joined up with three of our friends, Angela, Natalie and Rosamond, who loved dressing up just as much.

  The girls squealed. They were more Jaz’s friends than mine, and I was accepted into the circle as Jaz’s tagalong. If a car had a fifth wheel, I would be it.

  Rosamond, or Ros as everyone called her, had a thing for musicians. And this party came with not a DJ but a live cover band—Jaz’s favorite, too. She said she enjoyed and embraced her groupie culture, but to be honest, I wasn’t quite sure what a band groupie was? Supposedly it came with tons of bus tickets, torn stockings and popping of bubble gum.

  Angela and Nat
alie flashed their latest manicure designs, while Jaz and I looked on. Despite all Jaz had been through, she still had much to learn, and no matter how quickly I wished to get her caught up, there wasn’t enough grace to prepare her for the upcoming challenge.

  The gods wouldn’t wait until their hero was ready. They’d force it.

  I watched Angela ‘ohh and ahh’ like she did after watching the man-candy from the latest music video. This was a pure cultural difference I didn’t quite understand. Instead of enjoying the music, I frowned.

  What is this with the men swinging their hair and having a large wind machine to blow it? Was it unbearably hot under those lights? And did all 80’s bands wear tight leather pants? No, not like motorcycle or cowboy-styled leather pants, but these were so tight the men mostly looked like they’d skipped leg day at the gym.

  On the other hand, Jaz couldn’t leave her phone long enough to enjoy the band. Instead, she was quietly texting on her phone. She beamed at the screen, which could only mean she was texting with Erich. You couldn’t keep those two apart, for sure.

  But this was just the warm-up band.

  When the showrunner came on, the crowd went wild, and these specimen were all melt-your-panties hot. But then again, they were also all vampires. Handsome to deceive you, lure you in to become a nice tasty snack.

  “It’s him, Abele,” Ros quipped. I shoved the half-empty container of popcorn into the trashcan. A broad smile spread across her face. I smiled. Her excitement was contagious.

  Jaz hid her face in her jacket’s folds. She recognized her son and my target.

  I gulped. This could be the biggest betrayal. Jaz’s blood had created Leif, and they were still reconnecting in spite of the flock of murderous vampires who shared his DNA.

  For the past few weeks, vampiric activity had increased, and came ever closer to Jaz, with even some of the victims resembling her. Although Jaz, a police officer at the time, hadn’t been able to draw the paranormal conclusion that vampires were after her. The only reason she never knew was because of me.