Microsoft Word - The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance.doc (60 page)

In the moonlight, he arched his neck, lifted his head and roared. Along with  the mighty sound, a stream of fire shot out from his mouth.

If he was trying to scare her again, he had  succeeded. But she managed to stand her ground. She had come too far to run

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form him now. He looked dangerous. No, he
 
was
 
dangerous.  But not to her. She knew he would never hurt her. Not on

purpose.

His voice roared out of him, as he crouched low to the ground. “Climb on my back. Use my scales to pull yourself up.”

Teeth clenched, she climbed onto the dragon’s massive back, straddling him like a great  horse. There was a kind of saddle for her to sit on and his shoulder blades stuck up like two handles. It seemed that he had shaped his back so she could ride easily and hang on. She grabbed on with her two hands.

“Are you ready?” he boomed.

“Yes,” she  answered, wondering if it was true.

Garon leapt into the air, his great wings flapping as he gained altitude, carrying her up and up, high above the forest and into the black velvet night where she thought she might touch the stars.

She had envied the freedom of birds that could fly away to a new place any time they wanted. Now she looked down in wonder, awed by the moon-silvered view below her.

It was cold. She was glad of the armour’s protection but still

the wind stung her face as they flew high above  the forest.

His strong wings beat the air, eating up the distance. She had taken three days to walk to his mountain lair. The moon had barely moved in the sky when she saw the castle and the barbarians camped around it.

“Press yourself down and hold on,” the dragon boomed as

he dived towards the invaders. She flattened herself against his

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back and dug her fingers into his shoulder blades as he hurtled

downwards.

Below on the plains around the castle, she heard men shouting and pointing towards them. Soldiers in the castle were shouting and pointing too. Some of the barbarians aimed their bows into the air. Arrows flew past Morgan only to bounce off the dragon’s scales.

Garon plunged downwards towards the Digons. When he was almost on them, fire shot from his mouth, enveloping the camp below. Tents went up in flames. Men’s clothing caught fire, and they ran screaming towards the river. Their cries and the smell of their burning flesh rose into the air.

Morgan turned her head away. She didn’t want to see  the death of these men, but she knew what they would have done to her people if they had won. So she hung on as the dragon wheeled and dived, scorching the men and the land around the castle.

The barbarians left standing scattered, running for their lives. The dragon hunted them down  –  picking them off one by one. When he was finished, he landed on the field, in the middle of the destruction.

Morgan looked towards the castle. Men inside cranked the gears that lowered the great drawbridge and raised the gate. She expected her father to come out with cries of thanks.

Instead, archers rushed through the opening, firing at the

dragon as they charged him.

Morgan screamed.

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Garon bellowed in anger. Whipping his head from side to side, he sprayed the soldiers with fire, then rose into the air with his rider still clinging to his back.

Arrows followed them upwards but fell back to earth.

Morgan pressed her face to the dragon’s back, hot tears stinging her eyes. He had saved her father’s kingdom and this was his  reward. Reaching for the chain around her neck, she pulled it over her head and flung it into the air, watching it plummet towards the ground. The soldiers would find it. And maybe Nedda would understand that she had not died after all.  That she was all right.

They flew back the way they had come. Back to the mountain cave. And when they landed, she slipped to the ground.

The dragon backed away from her, transforming once more so that the man she had come to know was standing before her, his face hard and set.

“You saved them and they tried to kill you,” she cried out.

“They fear me.”

“You knew what would happen,” she accused.

“Not for certain. But it was my guess.”

“And you wanted me to see.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So you will go back where you belong.”

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“How can I?”

“I can give you proof that you brought the monster that

saved them.”

“What proof?”

“You can carry back scales from the dragon.”

She didn’t hesitate in her answer. “I don’t want to carry

anything back. I want to stay here.”

“You are human  and I am not. There can be nothing more

between us.”

She felt his words like physical blows. But she stood her

ground. “You would send me back to my father?”

“Yes.”

“No. I do not belong with him. He has never cared for me or

my happiness. He only wants  to use me for his own good.”

“Yet you came here to save him.”

“I came to stop the suffering of his people. In a few years,  my brother, Kerwin, will be the ruler, and he will be a good  king. But I do not want to go back to Balacord.”

“Then I will take you to the other side of the mountain and

buy you a husband.”

His voice dismissed her but she ran to him and clasped her arms around his waist. “Let me stay with you. I feel closer to you than any man I have ever met.”

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He was so much stronger than she. He  could have wrenched himself away, but he stayed in her embrace. His voice was low and sad when he answered. “You cannot.”

“Why?”

“I am old. Hundreds of years old. I am not human. And I

live on blood.”

“I do not care about that.”

“You will grow lonely  in this place.”

She raised her head and met his gaze. “I will not grow lonely. I will have you to teach me all the things you know and all the things I have longed to learn.” She let her joy shine in her voice. “We will argue about politics and religion and philosophy the way educated men do. And we will discover new things in science together.”

For a moment she saw the joy echoed in his eyes. But it quickly faded. “You are human. And you will grow old and die.”

She gave him a cocky grin that welled up from the depths of

her soul. “And you are magic. You will keep me young.”

“You have too much faith in my magic.”

“We’ll see. We can figure it out. Together. And if my life is  shorter than yours, I will be content. For it will be the life I have  chosen for  myself. A life of freedom, not the narrow existence  my father planned for me.”

His voice was gritty as he asked. “Where did you get such

wisdom?”

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“From the place inside myself where I spent most of my

time, because that was the only escape for me. Until  now.”

He starred at her in wonder. “You are so different from the

other virgins they brought here. They were frightened. And  shallow. They had no thirst for knowledge. They only craved  safety and comfort.”

“I’m older than they were. I am a king’s daughter. And I

have been punished many times for being . . . different.”

“Thank the gods you are.”

She clasped the back of his head and brought his mouth down to hers for a long, hungry kiss. She felt his response. Felt her desire leap to meet his. And she felt the armour she was wearing vanish.

By magic.

He began to kiss her as he ran his hands over her body. And

all the passion she had held in check burst forth.

They staggered together into the cave and managed to make it as far as a thick carpet before they fell in a tangle of arms and legs, kissing and stroking, and driving each other to the peak of need.

Then he was inside her, staring down at her in wonder moving in a rhythm that fuelled her desire, building the intensity to a level neither one of them could sustain for long.

They spun off into space together. And when his teeth pierced the flesh of her neck, climax rolled through her, through them.

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He was still inside her when he lifted his head. “I took only

a little of your blood. Just enough.”

She reached to stroke his damp face. “And I gave it gladly.

Out of love.”

She saw a flash of disbelief on his face. “Love?”

“Oh yes.”

“You don’t know what I am.”

“Of course I do. You went to great pains to show me the  worst that you could think of.” She  smiled up at him, touching  his lips, where a small red drop glistened. “But I saw more than  you intended. Much more. Your power is so much greater than  my father’s, yet you use it wisely. He is a petty ruler. But you  are truly noble.”

His face registered  his shock. “How can you call me that?”

“Because it’s true. That and more. Your wisdom stretches  beyond the reach of any man. You have sacrificed much, but  you do not always know what is best for yourself. I pray that I  can teach you.”

With that, she clasped him tightly, knowing it would take

time for him to accept everything she offered.

But they had time. And she hugged that knowledge to

herself, even as she clasped him.

Her monster, Her devil. Her dragon. Her teacher. And her

lover.

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The Midday

Ma ngler Meets his

Match

R achel V incent

“. . . and we’ve got your weather report coming up in a  minute, so stay tuned for a list of area schools expected to be  closed this evening. But first, the morning headlines . . ."

I groaned and glared uselessly at  the television, looking up from my history book. I didn’t want current events. I just wanted to know whether or not school had been cancelled, because if it had, I’d have a reprieve from the first chapter on  Global Conflict the Second.

On screen, a flawlessly composed and impeccably dressed woman sat at a desk behind an open laptop, her eyes on the camera, the pristine points of her fangs pressed into a plump lower lip.

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“Early last night, area police found the charred remains of  another child, the latest target of the Midday Mangler, in the  parking lot of the Gateview Mall. Like previous victims, she had  been drained, then bound and left exposed to a deadly dose of  morning sunlight. There’s been no official word on the child’s  identity, but inside sources say the body is almost certainly that  of nine-year-old Phoebe Hayes, who was reported missing after  school two nights ago.”

What?
 
I’d heard about the other bodies, of course. We all had. But Gateview Mall was only ten minutes away. The  Midday Mangler had been practically in my backyard.

“This makes the fourth disappearance and grisly murder of a  child in the last month, and the first in the metropolitan area.  Police are urging parents to supervise their children closely and  check in with them often. And, of course, if you see anything  suspicious, call the police immediately.”

The school closing forgotten. I hit the power button on the remote in disgust. What kind of
 
sick fuck
 
would feed from another person, much less a
 
child?
 
And  leave their bodies to fry in the sun? That just added insult to injury, and robbed the poor parents of one last glimpse of their child resting in peace.

And really: the ‘Midday Mangler’? The national media had obviously run out of good serial-killer nicknames (which worried me almost as much as the fact that they needed them).

“Ewww, sick!” a high-pitched voice cried from the back of  the house. I looked up from my work again, worried for a  moment that Luci had heard the news report. “She
 
bit
 
the little  girl?!” My sister giggled and I relaxed.

She hadn’t heard.

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“Yeah, because the kind old woman was really an evil  witch,” Oscar said, his still-changing voice deepening with the  drama of the story. “What’d you
 
think
 
she was going to do? Pat  the kids on the head and send them on their  way?”

I dropped my book on the couch and stood, my homework momentarily forgotten. When Oscar and I were little, our mother had told us that same story over and over. It was our favourite. Especially the part where the little girl shoved the witch out of  the door into the blazing sunlight, where she was scorched to a crisp, black shell. Then the girl freed her brother and they waited out the deadly sun until dusk, when they could escape into the safety of the dark woods.