Dragon Heat (24 page)

Read Dragon Heat Online

Authors: Ella J. Phoenix

explode, her throat was as dry as a desert.
That was not a very nice way of

arriving in Apa Sâmbetei
, she thought. She was probably still lying down on

the rocks before the first river. Tentatively, she opened her eyes.
Hmm,

that’s weird.
The room before her did not look like anything in Apa

Sâmbetei. It actually looked a lot like Tardieh’s sleeping quarters.

‚Hi.‛ Tardieh’s deep voice warmed her heart. She would miss him;

she would miss him dearly.

Wanting to hear his voice one last time, Zoricah turned her head

and saw Tardieh’s handsome face in front of her. He was sitting on the

chase long next to the bed.

‚How are you feeling?‛ he asked softly.

That couldn’t be happening. Zoricah had felt Apa Sâmbetei
calling

her.
She had even seen her father. Or had she? Confusing images popped

into her head. The mist near Apa Sâmbetei’s first river, Ucidhere’s light

warming her, Ucidhere talking to Tardieh, strong hands smoothing her

aching skin with a warm washcloth.

‚Where am I?‛ She tried to say, but her throat was so dry that no

words came out.

He answered her anyway. ‚You are in my sleeping quarters,‛

Tardieh said, caressing her cheeks.

Tardieh stood up and brought her a glass of water. It was difficult

to lift her head, so he helped her, and she managed to drink the soothing

liquid. Her headache dwindled a bit.

After regaining a bit of her strength, she asked. ‚I don’t

understand. How

‚Did it happen?‛ He finished her question, helping her drink a

second glass of water. ‚Well, we are now linked forever.‛

Zoricah chocked and started coughing desperately. His statement

did the job; it had definitely woke her up. Sitting down on the bed, she

swallowed hard. ‚What do you mean ‘we are linked forever’?‛

Diligently, Tardieh explained what had happened from the minute

she passed out on the ground near the slaughterhouse to the moment he

brought her back to his castle. He told her about Zmyzel and the vision he

had had with the dragons and vampires congregating and about what he

had to do to save her life. Zoricah listened intently and flabbergasted. She

could not believe Zmyzel had come to his aid. The goddess of life was not

well known for her generosity, especially with demigoddesses who

refused to procreate, like Zoricah.

‚We also found out that Yerik had other facilities in Europe,‛

Tardieh continued. ‚Three of the fifteen female vampires we rescued were

abducted in London.‛

‚London?‛

‚Yes and were taken to some place near there before being flown to

New York,‛ he added, handing her a food plate full of dried meat, cheese,

and bread.

Taking a few slices of succulent Serrano Ham, Zoricah said, ‚But

that can only mean that Yerik wasn’t working alone, that<‛

‚He had an associate,‛ Tardieh said, finishing her sentence.

‚Or associates.‛ Resolutely, Zoricah took a deep breath. ‚We need

to go to Europe.‛

Nodding in agreement, Tardieh informed her of their progress.

‚Joel and Dyam are analyzing those strange acid bullets they hit us with

while Sam and Yara are trying to find any useful information through

your connections in London.‛ Then filling up her glass with orange juice,

he added, ‚We’ll leave as soon as you’re well enough to travel.‛

After giving her time to enjoy a few sips of the juice, he said warily,

‚You’ve had an interesting visitor.‛

‚Who?‛ Zoricah asked raising an eyebrow.

‚Ucidhere.‛

‚What?‛ Zoricah asked, trying not to have another chocking fit.

Then she remembered her father’s ridiculous deadline. ‚Oh, dear Apa

Dobrý, what time is it? What day is today? How long have I been

unconscious?‛

Zoricah tried to get out of the bed but did it too fast. Her head spun

around a couple of times, making her lose her balance. The next second,

she was being held by Tardieh’s strong arms, and the food plate she had

been holding sat safely on the bedside table. He had pulled his speedy act

again.

‚I know you are eager to get out of bed, my love, but you will have

to take it easy,‛ Tardieh said helping her sit down again.

‚No, you don’t understand,‛ Zoricah said, trying hard not to just

lay there in his arms and enjoy the miracle of being given one more chance

with him. ‚I need to return the balance to Apa Sâmbetei.‛

At his confused frown, she explained, ‚Ucidhere let me take

Deirdre out of Apa Sâmbetei, well, actually she wasn’t officially in Apa

Sâmbetei yet, but anyway, he wanted your soul as a replacement for

Deirdre’s.‛

‚Oh?‛

‚But I said no,‛ she added quickly. ‚I told him I would find another

inimă and bring it to him within forty-eight hours.‛ Zoricah looked

frantically at the large clock on the wall. It didn’t provide much comfort. It

just told her it was three o’clock but of what day?

‚Well, that explains it, then,‛ Tardieh said pensively.

Zoricah darted her glance back to meet his gorgeous green eyes.

‚Ucidhere told me to give you a message. He said, ‘Tell Zoricah her

debt is settled.’ I didn’t understand it then, but I do now.‛

‚So please enlighten me because I’m completely lost.‛ Zoricah tried

to stand up again, but the room spun around for a second time. She

decided it was best to stay where she was.

Tardieh took her hands in his and said softly, ‚Our lives are linked,

my love. I am not immortal anymore.‛

The coin dropped like a brick in an empty well. Holy Apa Dobrý!

Dragons had extensive lives, a million years sometimes, but they did get

old and wither until their bodies were no longer capable of holding their

inimăs in. When that happened, the soul took its last journey and crossed

the three rivers of Apa Sâmbetei. By giving his blood to save her life,

Tardieh had linked up their existence forever. So once Zoricah’s dragon

body withered and her inimă went to rest in Apa Sâmbetei, Tardieh’s

would, too.

Zoricah looked incredulously at those gemstone green eyes and

asked weakly, ‚Why? Why did you do it?‛

‚I love you,‛ he said tenderly. ‚I don’t want to carry on living in a

world where you are not.‛

Zoricah felt the lump in her throat suffocate her. She lowered her

head. Hot tears ran silently down her cheeks. ‚Tardieh, I love you, too.‛

She managed to say without choking. ‚But it’s almost impossible for us to

be together.‛

‚No, it’s not,‛ he replied softly, lifting her chin up with his fingers.

‚We’ll make it work.‛

‚Your senate will crucify you.‛ More tears fell down and dripped

on their hands, which were still linked together. ‚I am a sujha dragon, and

you are the vampire king. Our races have been enemies for millennia. It’s

become a tradition.‛

‚Well, it’s time we started new traditions, then.‛ His lips touched

hers lovingly. His tongue parted her mouth invitingly while his arms

wrapped around her waist and pulled her up onto his lap. Zoricah would

never cease to be amazed by how instantly her body responded to his.

Kissing him back, she rocked her hips against his. Delicious heat engulfed

them both, and she had to struggle to stop herself from opening his

trousers and plunging his long shaft inside her.

Zoricah knew that their relationship was a political suicide for both

of them. But after feeling his lips on hers, his heat, his passion once more,

she decided she didn’t care. She had been granted her wish, she had been

given a second chance with Tardieh, and by Apa Dobrý,
she would not

waste any more time with what ifs and maybes. She would enjoy their

time together with all her heart until her name was woven by the Soartas’

spinning wheel.

Zoricah raised her lips from his and brought their foreheads

together. ‚The last thing that came to my mind when I heard Apa

Sâmbetei’s call was that I wished we had had more time together, that I

had told you how I felt,‛ Zoricah said softly against his lips. Then she

raised her head up and looked straight into his warm eyes. ‚So, here it is

King Tardieh. I love you. And I will welcome the challenge of making our

races accept us as a couple because it’s simply not worth it being brought

back to life if I have to endure it without you.‛

Tardieh’s eyes filled with tears. He pulled her close and kissed her

passionately once more. After a few moments where Zoricah thought she

would explode with so much fervor, he touched her cheeks and

whispered, ‚So be my queen.‛

Zoricah’s heart skipped a beat. ‚Be your what?‛

Epilogue

London, a few weeks later

Sam opened the taxi door and looked up. Yep, it was still raining.

She paid the fare and sheltering herself with her overcoat got out of the

car. The pub across the street carried an old wooden sign displaying the

name PIG AND WHISTLE. There were a couple of drunkards near the

entrance but nothing to worry about. She had lived around that area when

she had first come to London with Zoricah a few decades before. Islington

had its rough streets and dark alleyways, but all in all, it was a fairly safe

place—for a trained fighter.

Sam crossed the street and entered the old pub. The wooden bar

area with bronze rims topped by the now ugly maroon carpet

corroborated Sam’s suspicions: the pub had probably last seen a cleaner

the day it was opened, a couple of hundred years before.

The small round light wooden tables cramped along the dining

area were the only thing that remotely suggested she had not entered a

time machine and was still in the twenty-first century. A few old men

were drinking at the bar, another bunch was trying their luck at the slot

machines by the back door, and a couple more were finishing a game at

the billiard table. Instantly, Sam was overwhelmed by the stench of stale

beer and body odor. Man, she missed the time when people could smoke

inside those pubs. Not that Sam smoked or was pro-smoking—she did

agree that it was a foul habit—but at least it concealed the real smell of

those stinking patrons who insisted on rushing to the pub as soon as the

five-o’clock bell rang at the local factory. Like the one sitting on the bar

and looking at her through his yellow cirrhosisitic eyes.
Charming.

Ignoring his attempts to get her attention, Sam look around and tried to

spot the reason why she was in such a classy establishment.

The tall draco named Phillip was sitting at one of the tables by the

window. Blond wavy hair, large blue inviting eyes, and biceps to die for.

Yep, that was Phillip all right
, she thought, taking a deep breath.

Their eyes met, and he nodded in acknowledgement. He was

bigger than she remembered. She had met Phillip only once years before.

She had been helping Zoricah crack down a series of murders in the Fae

community in Manchester. They met Phillip in one of the most popular

S&M nightclubs at the time. The whole evening felt extremely surreal to

Sam, but it had been worth it. Phillip, with his infinite network of

connections, had given them the ultimate lead that had taken them

straight to the killer’s den. Sam hoped history would repeat itself.

Taking her drenched overcoat off, she walked to the table where he

was sitting. ‚Hello, Phillip‛, she greeted him. She was wearing dark blue

jeans and a white and blue tank top that, according to Yara, despite its

simplicity, brought out her eyes and complimented her figure. She hadn’t

known what to wear for the occasion, and Yara’s skin-showing Brazilian

style was not her thing. After having wasted a good hour trying on a

number of outfits—from easy casual to slutty minis—she convinced Yara

to let her settle for the classic T-shirt and jeans style.

‚Please,‛ Phillip replied, beckoning for her to take a sit. He gave

her a very impish once-over and asked, ‚What would you like to drink?‛

‚Nothing, thank you.‛

Big blue eyes met hers. ‚Oh, come, come, Sammy,‛ he said

charmingly. ‚I remember how much you love a vodka cocktail.‛ His

British accent was very distinguished; she remembered it being quite

annoying. On that first occasion when she met Phillip, he had been

accompanied by two voluptuous bimbos who kept touching him in front

of Zoricah and Sam. She remembered being extremely uncomfortable and

aroused throughout the whole encounter. Phillip was a very attractive

draco, after all.

Ignoring her refusal, Phillip raised his glass to the barman, who

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