Flight From Death

  “So you let her turn you.” Alex stared at him.

  “I let her turn me. I put my affairs in order first, and then . . . I went to her. It was rough, bad—she made it hurt. That’s when I realized she enjoyed the struggle. She got off on pain, but not so much from bloodwhores but other vamps. We spent three years together and every single day she made my life hell. She was really into pain.”

  “Sadist, was she?” Alex’s voice was steady in that icy cold way that I knew meant his temper was up. If he ever found this Zera, she’d be toast. “How did you get away from her, then?”

  Patrick shrugged. “It was actually easy once I decided to do it. Zera wanted to travel to Europe, so she booked passage on a boat. I was supposed to go with her, but instead of going to sleep in my coffin that night, I sneaked out and managed to evade her bodyguards. They never thought I’d disobey my sire. They gave up and left and . . . well . . . I haven’t heard from her since then.”

  “So here you are.”

  “So here I am. I took up a new business. I dropped in on my relatives, but once they found out that I hadn’t died, that I’d been turned, they ordered me out of their house. My own mother and father moved away, refusing to acknowledge me as their son. They think I’m some demon from hell.” He winced at that and I realized that Patrick had no family, either. Not any longer.

  Alex glanced at me with a warning not to say anything. So I sat silent, just listening.

  “Look, mate. You would have lost them anyway, once their time’s up. In a way, consider it a blessing because you don’t have to say good-bye to them. It’s not a walk in the park watching everybody you love die around you, while you never age a day. I think that’s harder than having no family at all.”

  Patrick shrugged again. “I wouldn’t know. I’m still too new at this to know very much. But I do know that I want a bottle of blood while we discuss how to handle this critter who’s taken over my house. I’ll run out and get a six-pack.”

  “You want company, man?” Ralph jumped up. “I could use a mocha and some chips.”

  “Sure, come along, wolf boy, and tell me all about what your boss has been doing for fun the past few years.” With a wink, Patrick caught his keys as I threw them to him, and he and Ralph headed out the door.

  I let out a long breath. “I feel sorry for him.”

  “I do, too, love. I do, too.” Alex scooted his chair back. “Why don’t we put the discussion of how to deal with this forest wight on hold till they get back. I wouldn’t mind a little fresh air. Care for a walk?”

  At my look, he snorted. “I know I don’t have to breathe, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like being outside, now does it? Remember, I came from bush country—”

  “Yeah, how long ago? You’ve been in the USA a long time, so you should be acclimated to city life, I’d think.” Razzing him, I slid into my jacket and followed him outside.

  A few minutes later, we were standing on the porch steps. The storm had abated, the waning moon was out, and the air smelled oh so fresh and clean. The call of the water stirred my heart and I let my head drop back and inhaled deeply, my blood rising at the thought of the waves.

  “You love it. You absolutely love it. The water, the salt in the air. I wish we could be nearer to the actual ocean back in Seattle. I see you like this and I feel guilty about keeping you in the city. But we’ll do everything we can to make it easier on you. I promise.” He paused. “I also . . . it turns me on to watch you when you’re caught up like that. There’s something sensuous about your look . . . wild and rapt and wanton.”

  Our eyes met and he slowly reached out his hand. “Walk with me?” His voice was husky.

  My breath in my throat, I extended my fingers to meet his and he curled his hand around mine. Turning, we silently walked down the porch steps and into the front yard. My heart was thudding so loudly in my chest I was surprised he couldn’t hear it, but if he did, he said nothing, just ran one finger lightly over my hand.

  When we came to the Range Rover he paused, then unlocked the back. The windows were still taped over. He stopped, staring at the tarps. “What on earth?”

  “Like we told you, we had to find a way to get you out of the house safely. Tonya covered the windows with heavy tarps, and Ralph and I wrapped you and Patrick from head to toe and hustled you into the back of the car to get you away from the fire. Then we drove you here in a hearse, in the body bags you were wearing.”

  “You truly saved our lives.” Alex stared at the blacked-out windows a moment more, then slowly walked me against the back of the car, pressing his chest against my breasts. “There’s room in the back,” he said, his voice husky. “Tell me you want me. You have to be the one to make the final decision.”

  Shivering, I could barely breathe. “Take me. Here. Now.”

  Alex spun me to the side and yanked open the rear door. Then he boosted me in. Bracing one hand on the side, he leaped in with one swift, sure movement and shut the door behind us. It was pitch black, but he took a slim flashlight out of his pocket and flicked it on, setting it to the side. In the dim light, he looked feral, and I could see that his fangs were extended.

  “Alex . . . I don’t want . . .”

  “You don’t want me drinking your blood.”

  “Not yet . . . maybe never. That has to be earned.” A bolt of fear shot through me. What if his predator couldn’t handle rejection? But then I stopped myself. I was a dragon. I might not be able to shift my form here, but I was damned strong. I could handle him if need be.

  “Rules understood. My rule? No hard pointy things in the bed unless they’re attached to me.” With a rough laugh, he tumbled me back onto the pile of tarps, straddling me as he leaned down to lock his lips against mine. The feel of his tongue in my mouth, the scent of him and his chill touch, sent shock waves of hunger through my body, rippling in waves from my breasts to my pussy.

  I moaned into his mouth, wanting more, so horny I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin. I shifted position beneath him as he held me down with my arms stretched over my head. His lips traced my face as he kissed my eyes, my cheeks, my mouth, then moved down to lick my neck with one long, luxurious stroke.

  “Oh, Shimmer . . .” Alex shuddered, and I realized he was smelling the blood racing through my body. His eyes were turning crimson and his fangs were out, but he kept his promise, fastening his lips to my throat to suck hard without breaking the skin.

  I was growing wet, so wet, and I let out a growl as I squirmed, spreading my legs so he could fully lean between them. The bulge in his jeans was rock hard against my leg, and he laughed, grinding against me.

  “You like that? Can you feel me, love? Can you feel how much I want you?”

  Panting, I struggled to reach for the zipper on my jeans. “Yes, damn it. Let me out of these things.”

  Alex pulled back and I unzipped my jeans, scrunching them down as he unbuckled his belt. In a frenzy, we were shedding our clothes, heedless of the cold, and then—we were naked, on our knees, staring at one another. I was panting heavily. His chest never rose, never fell, but his gaze was fastened on me and I could feel the hunger rising from both of us, like wild dogs hunting.

  I slid into his arms, and his hands found my breasts, as I wrapped my fingers around his rock-hard cock. He moaned into my ear and then leaned down to lightly tug on my nipple with his teeth. A rising swell spread through my hips, making me ache as he flicked it with his tongue, then sucked hard—so hard that it almost hurt. I let out a cry as the ache spread through my body—the need to be touched and explored everywhere so strong that tears sprang to my eyes.

  He drew me onto his lap, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as his cock hovered between my thighs. With one hand, he braced my back; with his other, he reached down to slide his fingers over my clit, pinching just hard enough to elicit another moan from my lips. I struggled, wanting him inside me, trying to slide forward, but he managed to hold me at bay as he toyed with me, slipping two fi
ngers inside my pussy, which was so wet that he met no resistance at all.

  “You like this, Shimmer? You want more?” The look on his face was one of triumph, of sheer delight as he locked my gaze.

  I licked my lips, hungry and gasping as his touch set off a series of sparks, chaining like lightning through my body. “Yes, I want more. Please, fuck me. Please . . .” I struggled again, reaching for his hips, trying to urge him forward so there would be only one place he could go.

  “Not yet. Oh, love, not quite yet.” And then he pushed me down so I was on my back again, and his head was between my legs. His lips found my clit, and with long strokes, he worried it with his tongue, swirling the nub—at first so gently I shrieked and struggled to get away from the insistent tickle. But he held my hips firmly, and then the tickle turned into a rougher stroke, and he lightly bit down. The sharp pain sliced through the grating tickle and sent me spiraling. I gasped, tears filling my eyes, but then he was sucking steadily, and the rhythm sent a shock wave through me as I came, sudden and unexpectedly, crying out.

  But through it, he never stopped, continuing, and as soon as the dizzying wave passed, I was building up again, caught in a haze of hunger and need. I came again, and once again as he plunged two fingers inside me with his lips still fastened to my clit. Then, he pushed himself up. As I propped myself up on my elbows, panting, he grabbed my wrist and flipped me over. I was on my hands and knees and he began kissing my back, trailing his lips down over the curve of my ass. Wrung out, drenched with sweat and so caught up in the hunger that was still not satisfied, I could feel nothing but the sensation of his touch.

  And then, I felt him, parting the lips of my vagina with his fingers, spreading them wide as he plunged the head of his cock—hard and icy cold and thick—inside me just enough to tease me. He held it there, just stretching the lips, and the pressure in my stomach threatened to overwhelm me. Then, with one long, hard stroke, he drove himself deep, his thrust so hard it pushed me forward. I moaned, leaning down so that my butt was in the air and my breasts were pressed against the bed of the Range Rover.

  “Fuck me, Alex . . . fuck me hard.”

  “Oh, yes, love. I’ll give it to you as hard as you want.” He grunted and drove forward, so deep in me that he was up to the hilt, and I could feel his balls slap against the back of my ass. With every thrust, I let out another cry, as I reached down with one hand to finger my clit. I rubbed, hard, as Alex continued to pump, the girth of his cock thick enough to stretch me wide. I let him set the pace, meeting his strokes with my own rocking.

  As I lost myself in the fucking, the air grew thick with moisture. I could feel it in my lungs, against my skin. I was close—so close again. I rubbed my clit furiously. “Harder, harder . . . please . . .”

  Alex groaned, his pace picking up as he drove himself over and over again into my body. “I’m going to come, baby. I’m close—”

  I squeezed my clit at the moment he gave one final thrust, the head of his cock barreling deep. As he shouted, still pumping against me, I let go, spiraling into the tidal wave that swept through my body; the orgasm sent me into a fit of laughter and tears. Spent, Alex leaned against my back, still inside me. His skin remained icy cool but it felt good against the heat and sweat that covered me.

  The next moment, I felt a gentle rain against my skin—soft droplets that swirled through the back of the car, softly falling against us.

  “What? It’s raining . . .” Alex pushed himself to the side, rolling onto his back. “Look!” His voice was filled with almost a wonderment as he pointed to the ceiling of the car.

  I nestled in his arm as the dew covered us with mist and shimmering droplets and looked up. There, against the metal, was a swirling pattern, coiling like scrollwork, in sparkling blue and silver.

  “I think . . . I think I caused this. My magic—Alex, my water magic. But it’s never happened before like this . . . And I’ve had a lot of sex through the years. Mostly casual encounters, but—”

  “Shush. Just accept it as something beautiful.” Alex stopped my words with a kiss. He kissed me deeply, gently, and then—as we watched in silence—the pattern faded and vanished.

  • • •

  “How bad is Patrick’s house, truly?” Alex stared into the dark street. We were dressed again, sitting on the tail end of the Range Rover. There wasn’t much to say at this point about our tryst, and I had the feeling we were both privately processing our feelings about what had just happened.

  “Not good. The house isn’t totally trashed—it’s not like there isn’t anything left, but it’s not going to be ready for the public anytime soon, spirits or not. If he doesn’t get rid of that forest wight, I’m pretty sure he won’t be able to sell the land. With the Gypsy curse bungling up finances, until we deal with all aspects of this problem, your friend Patrick might as well just walk away and abandon it if he decides he doesn’t want to go through with the bed-and-breakfast idea.”

  “And you think . . . you and Tonya and Ralph . . . that we can tackle this?”

  “I don’t know. We were about to discuss that when you two woke up and joined us. At least we found the murder weapon that killed Lacy. And if Toby’s DNA proves she’s a Buckland, we’ll have some form of identification for her.”

  “Will that change anything, though? It won’t punish her murderer—he, or she, is probably long dead.”

  “I know.” I caught Alex’s gaze again and held it. “But don’t you think she deserves a name? That she deserves to be recognized as someone other than a Jane Doe?”

  He pressed his lips together, then turned to lean back against the car and stare up at the sky. A few stars were creeping through the cloud cover, twinkling down through the chilly night.

  “Names mean a lot to you.” It was a simple statement, but it made my cheeks flush.

  “Yes, they do. Maybe it’s because I don’t have a name.”

  “You’re Shimmer, love. Isn’t that a name? And it fits you, you know. It fit you tonight.” He reached out to stroke my cheek as he smiled, but I couldn’t return this one. The subject hit too close to home.

  “Alex, you know . . . you know that I don’t have a name in the Book of Records. I’m listed as Shimmer, under the Lost and Foundling Registry, but I have no existence in the lineage of the Dragon Reaches. My mother didn’t give me a name; therefore . . . I don’t exist. I’m illegitimate simply by the fact that my parents are unknown. Until I find out who they were, I’ll never have a respectable standing among my people.”

  And there it was in a nutshell. I didn’t exist to the dragons in the Dragon Reaches, not in any proper manner. I wasn’t suitable, or regarded in any fashion. I was lower than the lowest caste . . . A name meant everything—a proper dragon name, given in secret with only the mother and child ever knowing what it was.

  “There’s part of me missing, Alex. I don’t know how to describe it, but it feels like there’s a part of me that was left unborn the day of my birth. My clutch mates probably feel the same way, but I have no idea who they are or where they’d be . . . or even how many of us there were. The Lost and Foundling won’t tell you that—they won’t let you ever meet your siblings. They think it might promote rebellious attitudes. So I don’t even know if I have any brothers or sisters.”

  Alex looked about ready to say something when headlights blinded us as another car pulled in. Glad I’d pulled myself together, I shaded my eyes from the lights till the car pulled up close enough for us to see that it was a police cruiser. Officer Paris again. She waved to us, a tight but friendly wave. We wandered over to her.

  “Hey, Shimmer. I have some news. Can we go inside? It’s a little cold out here for me.” She shivered and I realized again just how fragile humans could be.

  Tonya looked up as we entered, and pushed her book back. She offered Paris a chair.

  Paris sat down but refused the coffee Tonya offered her. “Thanks, but I can’t stay long. I wanted you to know tonight, though. The hamme
r checks out as the murder weapon. As for whether Lacy Buckland left the area, records are so spotty that there’s no real way for us to check. But I asked Mable down at the library—she runs the local genealogy club—if she could do some hunting around. She’s on the case with her group.” Paris leaned back with a soft smile and looked around.

  “Wonderful. I don’t know what they can dig up, but the family-tree clubs tend to yield a lot of good information.” Alex gave her a nod. “I’ve gone to them for cases in the past.”

  “They do, at that, and Mable? Avid researcher. She’ll find anything if there’s anything to be found. But there’s another reason I came over tonight. I was hoping Mr. Strand would be here.” She looked around. “Is he here? I don’t see Ralph, either.”

  “No, they went to the store, but they should be back soon.”

  “Unfortunately, I really can’t wait. I have to question someone about a burglary investigation. I’ll tell you, and you can tell Patrick. The inspector found a frayed wire in the wall that led to the fire. Nothing suspicious about it—just . . . old house, old wiring. They’ve forwarded the information to the insurance agency.” She stood and put her hat back on. “Give my regards to everyone else and have a good evening.” And then she was out the door.

  I looked over at Tonya. “Nothing suspicious, my ass. I know that the forest wight started that fire.”

  “Oh, I’m with you on that,” she said. “But I’m glad it shook out this way. Patrick won’t have a hard time with his insurance in getting money for repairs. That could be problematic if the report had listed suspicious activity—they might think he was torching his own place.” Tonya shrugged. “We know it was the forest wight; the insurance company doesn’t need to.”

  “True enough. It’s not like there’s much they can do about it. And it seems there might not be much we can do about it, either.” Antsy, I reached for the bowl of chips Tonya had put on the sideboard and began to aimlessly munch my way through them. “Is there somebody . . . anybody . . . around here who might know more about these creatures?”