It was the sound of twigs snapping that had him opening his eyes. Lifting his head, he looked around in the darkness.
Night time? That can’t be right. I couldn’t have been lying here for that long.
Slowly he sat up and tried to take in his surroundings. The clouds covering the moon made it almost pitch black and he could barely see two feet in front of him. He jumped at the sound of another twig snapping. His breath quickened as his heart pounded in his chest.
He swallowed past the lump in his throat and managed a shaky whisper, “Tony?” Wes stood up slowly, shaking as he looked out into the darkness.
Where was he? Where were the others? They should have found him by now. Wes felt the warmth of his tears as they rolled down his cheeks.
He whirled around to a sound behind him, his heart was lodged in his throat and he feared he might hyperventilate. Squinting, he scanned what little area he could see around him.
The clouds above him parted, and the light from not one, but two moons shone down.
Wes froze in place at the sound of heavy breathing a little way behind him. The animalistic snort and rumbling of a low growl had Wes shaking from head to toe—his heart two beats away from pounding right out of his chest.
Slowly turning around, Wes raised his head and looked up—and up, and up—and took in the sight of the very large and very terrifying monster.
Its red, slanted eyes glowed in the night. Saliva dripped from the sharp white teeth that protruded from its mouth. The monster’s long, thick neck, body and tail were covered in green scales and its black, veiny wings rested against its sides. A row of blood-red, curved spikes ran along its spine and tail, surrounding the tip.
Mouth wide open and lungs full of air, Wes was ready to let out a bloodcurdling scream when a large hand covered his mouth.
“Shh.” The warm breath of air against his ear made him shudder. The tears fell harder and his shoulders shook from the sobs he was so desperately trying to keep at bay. As his knees began to give out, a body pressed up against him from behind and an arm reached around his waist, holding him up.
The grip over his mouth and waist tightened. “Shh.”
Wes sucked in deep breaths through his nose and nodded. The hand covering his mouth rose above their heads and made a ‘forward’ gesture, then returned to cover his mouth.
Out of the corner of his eye on his right he saw figures move through the trees, then the same on the left. Slowly, four men came out of the shadows with bows and arrows drawn. They crept along silently, stealthily, not making a single noise while taking aim at their prey.
With a light whoosh, one man on his right let the first arrow fly. Even though he couldn’t see, he knew it had hit its target from the ear-piercing shriek.
Wes’ whole body shook as he screamed against the hand covering his mouth. The sounds of the arrows flying through the air and the monster’s cries of pain were nothing compared to the furious roar of the second monster that flew in from above.
He was spun around and shoved up against a tree, a large hand against his chest holding him there.
“If you want to stay alive, then stay here.” Saying nothing more, the stranger released him and ran towards the others. Wes turned and hugged the tree as he watched the man draw his bow and arrow.
The roars of both the men and the monsters filled the night. Wes caught glimpses of arrows flying through the air and large, clawed feet swiping at them. One man was knocked back about thirty feet by a tail and was slammed into a tree. Wes stared in amazement as he stood up and headed back to the fight.
Another thunderous roar had Wes covering his ears.
“Fall back!” The man who was with him before turned towards him. “Run!”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He released the tree and ran as fast as he could. Feeling a rush of heat behind him, he looked back to see five extremely large men barrelling towards him, all narrowly escaping the rain of fire that was let loose by one of the monsters.
Tripping over a root from a tree, Wes hit the ground hard. Scrambling to get back up, he ignored the pain then continued to run. Tree branches slapped against him, stinging his skin. A hand took his and pulled him along as they ran. Wes felt like his arm was going to be ripped out of its socket and he cried out when he stumbled again, pain slicing through his shoulder.
Quickly stopping, the man then lifted Wes up and threw him over his shoulder. The sudden pressure against Wes’ stomach pushed the air from his lungs, but it was the shock of seeing everything behind them disappearing at an unreal speed that made it impossible to breathe. The monsters and fires faded away within seconds.
Only a few minutes had passed, but miles had been put between them and the monsters when they finally began to slow down before eventually stopping. The stranger set Wes on his feet but, dizzy from the speed-of-light sprint, Wes stumbled and fell on his ass.
“Here,” the man said, holding his hand out for Wes. Wes scrambled away. No way was he letting that man pick him up again.
“What was that, Larken?” Wes looked over to see a man advancing on another with a scowl on his face. “You said there was only one Drágun.”
“There was only one Drágun,” Larken said angrily. “In case you missed it, the other one flew in. And I don’t know about you, Damien, but my flying capabilities since, oh I don’t know, birth, have been non-existent. So how was I supposed to know it was coming?”
A third man stepped over to Larken and Damien, and Wes’ heart about pounded out of his chest. It wasn’t so much the threatening growl that resounded as he barged over towards Damien that had Wes shaking—it was the look of the man himself. He had a menacing face with a jagged scar that ran down the right side from his temple, across his cheek and down to his chin. His hair was short and a little dishevelled, with two thin braids hanging from his left temple. Wes had never seen a hairstyle like that before, but it somehow added to the ruggedness of the man’s features. His looks were rough and plain scary, from his black eyes to the scowl on his face. Not to mention he was huge and his aura screamed callousness. All of this had Wes shrinking back further, hoping to go unnoticed by him. Pointing at Damien, the man growled, “Maybe if you hit the Dráguns as many times as you missed them, we could have taken them down.”
“Me? I only missed once!”
“Yeah, but most of yours hit their legs. You have to get them in the neck, head, or upper body, which you barely did.”
Damien’s fists clenched at his sides. “It’s not like they were holding still.”
“I didn’t have a problem,” he said arrogantly.
“That’s enough, Zane,” the man standing next to Wes commanded.
Zane turned to look at him. “What? If he actually went for the kill shots we might have been able to take them down. No one else seemed to have a problem. Any good warrior could have done it.”
Damien dived for Zane with pure hatred in his eyes. Wes had never seen someone move so fast. He’d also never really seen a fight before—he knew the punches and kicks were normal, but the trying to bite each other seemed a little off.
This couldn’t be happening.
Wes’ head ached and he felt dizzy trying to comprehend everything going on around him.
What was that… thing, back there? Did they say dragon?
Who are these people?
Where the hell is Tony?
Wes closed his eyes. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to curl up under his nice, warm fleece blanket and pretend that none of this was happening.
“That’s enough!” Wes jumped at the booming voice next to him.
His breath caught when he got a good look at the man at his side for the first time. Wes could tell the man was in charge by the way he radiated authority.
His sheepskin leather pants and short-sleeved tunic moulded to his lean, taut body. With a bow and quiver across his back, sword at his hip and dagger sticking out of one of his boots, the man looked like someone straight out of th
e medieval times. His shoulder-length black hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck by a leather cord, which made the sharpness of his facial features more prominent. The muscles in his arms flexed from his clenched fists as he stood there, waiting and ready for anything to come his way.
He was stunning.
And that scared the hell out of Wes.
With the help of Larken, Damien and Zane separated, both wiping away the blood from their busted noses and split lips.
“Damien,” the man next to him said, the power behind his voice sending a chill down Wes’ spine. “I want you to go take care of Aliam. He took a good hit to the chest.”
Wes looked over to a man sitting on a log, holding his chest. He had completely forgotten about the fifth man.
“Larken, Zane, I want you two to set up camp. We’re going to rest here for a few hours and give Aliam a chance to heal.”
Zane growled, obviously not liking being told what to do. The man’s gaze slid over to Wes and he felt his blood run cold. Zane stared at him, his look of anger slowly turning into one of lust. With his eyes hooded, he licked his lips. Jerking his chin in Wes’ direction, he asked, “What about him?”
Wes didn’t like the sound of that. He found himself slowly backing up. Sharp rocks dug into his hands but he didn’t care, all he wanted to do was get as far away from the man as he could. He needed no warning about Zane. He could tell just from the way he looked that he was angry, cocky and malevolent.
And the way Zane looked at him had Wes shuddering in fear.
The man at his side stepped in front of him, blocking Zane’s path. His voice lowered an octave as he said, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll take care of him.”
Wes didn’t really like the sound of that either.
God, he just wanted to go home.
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About the Author
Tuesday Morrigan began her love affair with romance at an early age. As a child she was always infatuated with the novels she snuck from her mother. Later, in high school, the public library became her sanctuary with an endless array of romance novels. Tuesday is still an avid reader of books. Thanks to shows like Buffy, Angel, and her latest infatuation, Supernatural, Tuesday prefers her stories to have a little more grit. Her favourite genres have always been fantasy, mystery, romance and erotica, so as a writer, she tries to blend the genres to create her own personal niche.
Email: [email protected]
Tuesday loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.
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A Vampire for Christmas Page 15