by Katie Cherry
“Luckily those days are past!” the mom exclaimed as the baby in her arms squirmed. “So, I believe we talked about getting some pictures by the water?”
“Right! I just got things set up,” Myra responded, hastily leading the little family toward the gazebo by the pond. “I was thinking of focusing the bulk of the pictures in the gazebo, outside it, and in the trees.”
“Sounds great,” the mom replied, rubbing her arms, her short, flowery dress not doing much to keep her warm.
Positioning the family each time luckily didn’t take long, although they had to deal with the baby being fussy in most of the pictures. She was, however, proud of the picture she was able to take of just the baby just after she got her to laugh and focus on a passing butterfly.
Soon rain began to drizzle around them. Quickly passing her a check, the mom thanked Myra before leading her little family in a beeline toward their waiting van.
The rain was pouring hard by the time Myra had shoved all her equipment into her compact car and jumped in after it. She shook her dripping head and blew out a breath, rubbing her hands together before the vents, which gently blew warm air that seemed to caress her icy skin. She always got cold easier than others, but she hadn’t been prepared for the rainstorm, thanks to Harper’s surprise taking up all her thoughts leading up to the shoot. Still, she was grateful for it helping to hurry the family. Now she had the rest of the day to work on her art, which she had been neglecting. Not out of lack of desire to paint, but because most days, it was around this time when she was finally able to get out of bed. Her day had been so productive already, and she didn’t want to let rain- or purple hair- keep her from taking advantage of this rare bout of energy.
Driving home, her thoughts were on the painting she would hopefully be able to finish, thinking of how to add rain to the landscape. Her thoughts of painting quickly ended when she stopped at a crosswalk to allow two men in long raincoats and hats to pass in front of her. They both turned their heads to stare at her and paused, just inches away from her car. When they finally turned away, Myra could have sworn she saw their eyes flash yellow. Shaking off the thought, she scolded herself for being paranoid as she pressed the gas and moved slowly past the men, now walking down the sidewalk with their heads bowed like everyone else. It was probably just headlights from another car. She repeated the rationalization until the worry faded from her mind and her thoughts returned to her art and wondering if she would be able to sell it, and if so, for how much.
When she reached the house, Harper and Daniel were still out, leaving her to the small, peaceful house, the rain drumming softly on the windows. Taking a deep, happy breath, she felt calm as she focused on the storm as it cleansed the air, the buildings, the streets… the people. Smiling as she tossed her jacket onto their small couch, she headed straight for her painting, feeling inspired enough by the weather to keep her from thinking about her hunger.
Pulling the canvas, paints, and brushes out of her closet, she studied what she already had. It was a lush mountainside, overlooking a valley. Not everything was alive and perfect, however, and that was how she had intended it. Dead trees were scattered throughout. The sky seemed to be in turmoil as well, with a mix of sunny, clear blue sky, and dark rolling clouds. Pulling out her palette, she squirted just a little blue, grey, and white, carefully mixing it together. Choosing her smallest, thinnest brush, she dipped it in water, then carefully into the mixture. Focusing intently, she began to press gently upon the mostly-finished painting, creating small raindrops falling from the tumultuous clouds.
An hour, maybe more, passed before the door to the small house opened, letting in the sound of laughter, shattering Myra’s peace. Only a few moments passed before Harper appeared at Myra’s door, beaming. “Hey, thought I’d find you here,” she greeted with her usual bubbling energy that perpetually made Myra feel exhausted. “So, Daniel and I were hoping to go out and celebrate my birthday tonight!”
“But it’s not for another week,” Myra stated, confused.
“Yeah, but we were talking, and I decided what I want from you for my birthday.” Her eyes glittered with excitement. I’m not going to be able to afford whatever she wants now, Myra groaned to herself. “I want to see you out of this house, being social, and doing things that others our age are doing,” she declared, taking another step toward Myra. “And that’s why I picked today, since you’re already doing so well.”
“You… just want me to get out?”
“If I could have anything, my wish would be for you to do something adventurous! Spontaneous!” Harper excitedly explained. “So please… please go with us? I’ll pay for everything!”
Myra paused, pondering this. She would have to go out, but it would make Harper’s entire year if she could convince her to do something crazy for one night. And she would be paying, which meant Myra’s scant artist salary wouldn’t be hurt by her definition of ‘adventure.’
“…Where are we going?” Myra finally sighed, setting down her paint palette and her brush.
Squealing with excitement, Harper ushered Myra out of her room and over to her own, babbling about an outfit that she just had to wear. Closing her eyes, Myra focused on putting aside her cares and accepting whatever Harper threw her way tonight.
*****
She was not expecting a loose, glittery red shirt with deep cuts under the straps and in the front that would be exposing cleavage had she not insisted on at least wearing a black tank top underneath. Paired with it? A black skirt that fit a little too tightly for her tastes, and tights since she hadn’t shaved for a few days. Harper had re-curled her hair since it had been ruined by the rain, and had helped her with her makeup, making it far more bold than Myra’s usual mascara-only look. Eyeing her approvingly, Harper held out a pair of black high-heeled sandals.
“Really?” Myra couldn’t help but complain.
“Oh, come on, they’re not even two inches,” Harper pleaded. Groaning to herself, Myra finally accepted the footwear, slipping them on and buckling them. “Good thing we’re the same shoe size!” Harper said happily, her eyes running Myra up and down once more, then giving a sharp nod. “Perfect. We’re going to rock all those guys out there tonight!” As for herself, Harper was wearing a tight, shimmery black dress with a low back, and glittering red heels. Her eye makeup had blue and gold. Myra was glad she was able to talk her into just doing gold for herself.
As they walked to the door where Daniel was waiting, Myra snatched her denim jacket from the back of the couch, pulling it on before Harper could protest. Still, she frowned. “Just take it off when we get there, okay?”
“Fine.”
“Great! Daniel, honey, we’re all ready to go!”
“Perfect,” he smiles, his eyes locked on Harper’s body as she walked. Sighing, Myra followed them out the door and to the waiting Uber, where she climbed into the front, letting Daniel and Harper sit together in the back.
“Are you kidding me?” Myra exclaimed as the car stopped in front of a dark building, the neon sign flashing Finley’s Pub. “A bar?”
“A pub is a little different,” Harper smiled, her excitement untouched by Myra’s cynicism. Daniel got out and walked to open her door as she talked. “You can just get dinner here. You don’t have to drink. Though I would love it if you’d try,” she winked, accepting Daniel’s hand to help get out of the car. Frowning, Myra opened her door and followed with a grunt. The rain was lighter now, but they still hurried to get inside before all of Harper’s work got ruined.
Inside, it did look like a restaurant, but with a bar on the side, and a pool table along another side. They got a few stares as the door closed behind them, the bell tinkling as it brushed it. Harper beamed, clearly happy to see her work succeeding. Myra, however, quickly ducked her head and scurried, as fast as she could in heels, to the nearest table, sliding into the worn wooden seat. Harper chuckled as she followed, more slowly and elegantly, slipping into the seat across from her. Daniel sat
between them, staring down any man who looked at his fiancé too long.
“Welcome to Finley’s Pub,” a man said, standing to Myra’s left, by the open seat at the table. She didn’t look up, trying to hide her red face behind her shortened hair. “What would you like to drink to get started?”
“Water,” Myra quickly ordered before Harper could say anything.
“Alright,” the man agreed, his voice soft. Myra glanced up at him through her hair. He seemed nice enough, a clean-shaven face, soft stormy-blue eyes, and a sharp outfit. He smiled at her, revealing a dimple to the left of his mouth, and handed her a menu. “Let me know if you change your mind,” he added with a wink she almost didn’t catch before he turned to Harper and Daniel. “And for you two?”
After taking their drink orders- both alcoholic, Myra was pretty sure- the man left. “Ooooh, he was cute!” Harper gushed as soon as he was out of earshot. “Right, Myra? Tall, sweet, that dimple, those muscles…” Daniel glanced at her, and she hastily continued. “I mean, he’s obviously not my type, but you should totally talk to him! I caught his name from his name tag. Rhys Rune. Sounds like a cool guy, right? Myra Rune…”
“Oh my- Stop!” Myra exclaimed, her face beet red. “You’re seriously already tacking a stranger’s name onto mine?”
“Well, if you want to be spontaneous…”
“I don’t!” Myra suddenly snapped, shocking Harper into silence. After a moment, Myra shyly continued. “I’m trying, okay? Just… don’t push it too far. I’m doing this for you, but you can’t make anyone fall in love or anything, so just please… don’t even fantasize about it.” She hadn’t meant to lash out, but her love life had been pretty barren since high school, thanks to her perpetual illness. Whatever it was.
“Okay. Sorry,” Harper whispered, taken aback by Myra’s out of character outburst. An awkward silence persisted around the table until Rhys returned with their drinks, everyone just staring at their menu. After they ordered their food, Myra followed them to the bar, taking the last open stool without persuasion. “Do… do you want to…” Harper hesitantly began, one eyebrow arched questioningly.
Myra responded with a sharp, decisive nod. Apparently I’m going to need alcohol to get me through tonight. “What’s the best drink for a beginner?” she asked the bartender.
“I know just the thing,” he grinned, electric blue eyes staring back into her own. “Baileys Irish Cream. It’s practically a desert,” he smiled, pouring her some into a glass she had only seen in TV shows before now.
“Thanks,” she awkwardly responded, hesitantly reaching out for the glass. Running a finger along the edge, she was acutely aware of everyone’s eyes on her. Apparently, as a virgin to alcohol, she was interesting enough to draw the gaze of everyone within hearing. Steeling herself, she smoothly lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip. Harper watched, biting her lip as she tried to contain her excitement.
It was sweet and felt smooth as it slid down her throat, and surprisingly didn’t burn as she expected it to. “Not bad,” she said, feeling obligated to announce her judgement to all those who watched. She was greeted with smiles and nods as they all turned back to their own, stronger drinks. Apparently Irish Cream was a favorite. Myra smiled, feeling she had dodged a bullet. Relaxing into the barstool, she closed her eyes, relief pouring through her.
“…Due to their yellow eyes.”
Spinning, Myra searched for the voice, quickly finding it coming from the small TV near them. The caption read ‘Denver Demons still at large.’ Myra began to sweat nervously as the broadcast went on, talking about two men who were suspected kidnappers who wore yellow contacts, hence spurring the name ‘demons.’
It took a few minutes and a few gulps of her drink to calm down, but eventually she did. Just because I saw them in passing doesn’t mean I’m in any sort of danger. They came into closer contact with like, ten people just while I watched them.
Still, she was glad for the drink beginning to dull her senses as the night wore on- especially as guys started coming over and flirting with her. Finally, Myra had enough once the fifth guy had come over to introduce himself. “I’m gonna head home now,” she announced to a now very drunk Harper.
“Noooo,” Harper moaned, pulling her in for a hug. “I’m having so much fun!”
“I’m sure, but I’m getting tired,” Myra responded, not expanding upon her explanation with why social outings were draining to her.
“Okayyyyy, fine,” Harper replied, turning to Rhys and pointing to him. “But you have to go home with him!”
Myra couldn’t help but laugh at her friend, as well as Rhys’s surprised expression. “Harper, I’ll be fine. It’s not a long walk, and it’s stopped raining.” She began to walk away before Harper could demand more of her, slipping her jacket back on as she approached the door and grabbing the small purse Harper had lent to her for the night. Pushing against the door eagerly, she smiled at the cool, damp breeze that greeted her and seemed to pull her back to her senses a little more. She didn’t think she was drunk, likely thanks to how much food she ate, and that she only had the one or two shots the bartender gave her to drink, but she still felt a little affected by it.
It’s not too bad, she thought to herself, smiling as she walked down the street with an energy she hadn’t felt in years. I should have tried this earlier. A giggle burst from her lips, surprising her, but she just grinned and laughed as she continued home, feeling better than she had in longer than she cared to remember. She could almost forget about her constant stomach pain. She winced as the thought sharpened the pain, cutting through the nice haze the drink had put her in. Sighing, she continued home, picking up her pace as her toes, wet from the rainwater pooling on the dark roads and sidewalks, begin to freeze.
She froze as she neared a corner, noticing two men, in long raincoats, standing beneath a streetlight ahead, their faces shadowed by their hats. Panic rising into her throat, she darted across the street, clinging to the shadows, praying they didn’t notice her. She ran the near half mile remaining to the house, cursing the heals the whole way, eventually taking them off and holding them in her hand to run faster. Finally reaching the small house, she leaned against the door, panting, as she looked back the way she came. Relief flooded her as she saw nothing.
That’s when the pain in her abdomen seemed to explode. Crying out, she crumpled to the ground, clutching her stomach as tears began to run down her cheeks. The pain gradually increased, pulsing through her. She managed to look up as it reached a peak.
Right into a pair of yellow eyes.
Chapter Three
Her mind was a haze, and her body seemed extraordinarily weak. Opening her eyes was an effort as she swam out of the murkiness that she seemed to be drowning in. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d wake before you were completely drained,” a voice said next to her ear, sounding almost bored. Panic at the closeness of a man she was completely vulnerable to provided the push needed to bring her fully back to consciousness. Whipping her head to the side, she took in the captor before her, her eyes wide and panicked.
He was young, probably about her age, with some stubble on his face and long hair that seemed to be permanently wind swept. He smirked at her deer-in-the-headlights look. “Look, I don’t really want to be bothered with babying another scared human, so I’m just gonna give you the rundown real quick, you can call me crazy, we finish draining you, and I move on with my life. Alright? Great,” he huffs, tossing his body back about a foot to land heavily in a chair. He continued to look bored as Myra inspected her restraints. She was tied to a table, with a needle in each arm, collecting blood. No wonder she was getting light-headed.
“Alright. My name is Jake, and I’m a dragon mutt. Like you, and like Hagen over there,” he continued, gesturing across the small house to a kitchen, where the other kidnapper seemed to be preparing something. “That’s how we found you. When we first saw you, we saw the power concentrated in your gut- yes, that’s why you’v
e had chronic pain most of your life- and we Marked you. When we saw you later tonight, we followed you, then contacted your power with our own to incapacitate you. Makes it easier,” he shrugged, picking at his fingernails as he reclined. “Now we’re taking your power. It makes us more dragon and less human, which is pretty much the only cure for that chronic pain we mutts have to live with.”
“I don’t suppose I’ll live through this?” Myra asked, nearly choking on the question as her dry throat scraped against itself.
He finally looked up at her again, an eyebrow lifted in bewilderment and his lips lifted in amusement. “Well, no, but I’ve heard rumor of another way to turn us both full dragon. If you’re game,” he chuckled, his eyes roaming her body. She suddenly became acutely aware that she was still wearing much more revealing clothing than she usually did. Her face got red as she struggled to concentrate through the fog that gradually increased around her brain as her blood steadily dripped away. Dragons, huh? I’m gullible, but really? With the blood thing I’d be more inclined to believe vampires, honestly.
“What’s my other option?” she rasped, barely getting the question out through a dry cough.
“Impregnating a mutt is supposed to turn her into a dragon. I figure it should work the other way around, too,” he smirked, eyeing the end of her skirt, his eyes beginning to smolder.
“Jake, you know as well as I that that rumor says the male has to have completed the transition already,” Hagen sighed, entering the room with two plates holding sandwiches loaded with meat. He was older, heavier set, but had a presence about him that Myra couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“Can’t hurt to try,” Jake responded, finally releasing Myra from his heavy, demanding gaze.
“It’s not worth it. We just have to do what we always do, and siphon her power out of her blood.”