Emma (Dark Fire) (2 page)

She snorted. Fainting was so not happening, not in her lifetime.

Flipping her hand up, she glanced at her bloody finger, realizing the damage was minor and quickly forgotten.

The tiny body, wrapping itself around her bleeding finger, captured her full attention. A delighted grin split across her face.

With spiked hair and fluttering wings, the little fairy was too awesome for words.

The fairy was not fascinated with Emma. The little creature glared at her with fire in her eyes. Four shimmering wings fluttered madly as the small girl stood. Short, red hair stuck up all over the place. Ignoring her messy hair, she smoothed her hands down a dark red dress that clung to her body like a second skin, unsuccessfully trying to fix the wrinkled material.

Emma opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Well, nothing emerged except hot air. Speech wasn’t working. She stopped trying to talk and sucked in a deep breath.

The tiny girl, not much bigger than a regular-sized Snickers bar, didn’t have the same speech problem. “What were you trying to do, shake me to death?” the tiny girl demanded, stomping her bare foot against the palm of Emma’s hand. Four pointed wings quivered.

Emma’s eyes narrowed, and she defensively muttered, “No, but you bit me first, fairy girl.”

“I’m a pixie!” the tiny girl wailed, her face twisting into a look of pure horror at Emma’s words. “Anyway, you were going to squish me!” Her high-pitched squeal of outrage shot through Emma’s eardrums. “You owe me for a pixie bite.”

“You want me to pay you for biting me?” Emma asked, astonished at the bold little creature. “I didn’t ask to be bitten, you little twit. You can’t be serious!”

“Of course, I am. You’ve gotten all of my languages. I demand payment,” she said huffily. Blowing out her cheeks, they bloomed deep burgundy – nearly the same color as her wings – and just as quickly returned to a light creamy tone.

“You’re speaking English…” her words trailed off. Her entire attention focused on a young man stepping out of the forest.

He remained in the shadows, making it hard to see him clearly. It didn’t matter; no two ways about it, he was sinfully gorgeous. He tugged a hooded cloak up, covering golden hair. His face was a bold mixture of strong lines and sensual appeal.

He slowed to a stop, watching her with cold, calculating eyes. So cold and emotionless, his gaze reminded her of a soulless machine.

Fear tingled through her. She tensed, ready to run.

“You will not run,” he said. “I won’t harm you.” A cool, calm sensation filling her with peace, accompanied the words.

Watching him as he stood at the far edge of the woods, she wondered how she heard him from so far away. She frowned, uncertainty flared inside her.

An ice-cold breeze touched her, reassuring her.

Struck by his beauty, absorbing every detail of him, she shrugged the question away.

He began walking toward her. Every step brought him closer to her, every step made her feel hunted. A warning shiver raced up her back. Confused over her conflicting emotions, she let her gaze travel over the length of him. Only his light green eyes were not perfect. Red veins shattered the whites of his eyes, crisscrossing in a bloody tangle.

She tilted her head, questioning her fascination. Something didn’t feel right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

He walked closer, giving her his undivided attention. He skirted the brightly lit meadow, remaining under the shadowed tree line.

“Such a treat I’ve found,” he said with a compelling voice, a voice filled with unspoken promises. “You want to please me.”

A cold breeze blowing through her mind accompanied the words. She shivered, smiling in wonder as he consented to speak with her.

His eyes focused on her, compelling her with their intensity. “You will offer yourself to me.” Cold pressure pressed against her brain, demanding she agree with his words.

Panting as if she’d run a mile, she trembled.

He smiled at her, exposing rapidly lengthening teeth, very sharp, white teeth. He walked closer, moving beneath the far-reaching limbs of the giant mushroom tree. A slender ray of sunshine peeked through the foliage, glinting off deadly looking fangs. He hissed in pain, jerking away from the brilliant sun.

The sight terrified her, yanking her up by the short hairs. Heart thudding a mile a minute, she turned to run.

“Stop,” he ordered, pointing at her.

She tried to move her feet, but an ice-cold breeze rushed through her brain, demanding her surrender. She finally recognized the cold, alien touch slithering through her brain. She jerked her eyes from his, breaking his spellbinding gaze. The move shattered the false feeling of safety. Fear crashed through her, tightening her stomach into a painful knot.

Frozen in place, she couldn’t move, not a single inch. She concentrated her entire being on making her feet move. It didn’t work. Her eyes skidded across his face, refusing to look directly into his hypnotic eyes. She caught a glimpse of pulsing red veins. Bone-chilling fear crashed through her.

She didn’t see death approaching her; she tasted it. Bitter and sharp, the flavor of her oncoming death rose in the back of her throat, choking her with a tight grasp.

He ran his tongue down dangerously wicked looking fangs, licking them in anticipation.

Repulsed, her body tensed, mutely screaming in terror. Her death was moments away and she couldn’t move. She strained against the odd compulsion thrumming through her brain. Her body didn’t budge, remaining in a frozen limbo.

Sharp pain slashed through her finger as the pixie bit her. “Run!” the tiny girl screamed. In a flutter of sparkling wings, the pixie streaked away.

The pain was just enough to break the freak’s tight hold on her brain. Her single thought mirrored the pixie’s action. She jumped up, and threw herself into a mad dash toward the forest behind her. Never once did she consider fighting the deadly creature with the face of an angel. She knew her only chance at living lay in outrunning the fanged creature, the vampire.

Over the thrum of her heart, she heard his laughter. It was dark and ominous just like the earlier thunder. The sound made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, prickling in animalistic fear.

Dodging around mushroom trees and lunging over bulging roots, she tried not to spare any energy wondering where in the world all the freaky stuff came from or why all of it had been dumped in her lap.

Nearly to the edge of the tree line, the tip of her sneaker clipped a thick, purple root. She stumbled. Crying out, she threw her hands outward and tumbled to the ground, landing near the base of another giant mushroom. She rolled, but he was nearly there.

Running her hand across the rough ground, she frantically searched for something she could use as a weapon. Her hand grazed a smooth, hard surface. Not having time to be picky, she clasped the giant thorn in her fist.

His hand clenched around her arm, jerking her around to face him as if she weighed less than a rag doll. Inhuman strength stared her in the face. She’d never had a chance at freedom; he’d just let her think she was escaping.

His dark hiss surrounded her, one filled with anticipation.

She glanced into his eyes, watching in sick horror as the tiny red vessels covering his eyes multiplied, growing thicker. The mass of veins pulsed with the beat of his heart.

He smiled. Up close, his fangs appeared much sharper.

His face blurred.

She rapidly blinked, trying to clear her vision. The movement didn’t help.

His features seemed to melt, shifting as if water flowed down his face. His appearance firmed. No longer did he appear a gorgeous young man. Unkempt blond hair dangled into his face. His large nose, which perfectly matched his mule-shaped face, flared as he inhaled. The intensity of his gaze increased. He looked hungry.

Crouching above her, he sucked in a lungful of air. He held it, appearing to savor the sensation. “Hmmm, I love the smell of fear. It coats the skin making the kill so much sweeter.”

Like a physical blow, the words struck her, terrifying her. Her desperate need to survive urged her toward action before the vampire had time to bite her, but her desire to live was stronger than her fear so she forced herself to wait for the perfect opening.

She flexed her fingers around her makeshift weapon. Old and gray, the banana-sized thorn must have fallen from one of the mushroom trees. Its sharply pointed end curved upward like a thorn from a rose bush, while the flat base fit into the palm of her hand.

The vampire focused on her throat. He didn’t seem to notice the weapon she held at her side. Either that or he arrogantly ignored it.

She glanced toward the forest, desperately needing a diversion but it didn’t look like one would stumble out of the forest at just the right moment. She would’ve welcomed anything, even a bear. Choking back another surge of fear, she knew she would have to make her own distraction.

She bit her lip against a surge of uncertainty and stopped struggling against the vampire.

Looking up at him, she boldly caught his gaze. “Want a taste?” She aimed for a husky, seductive voice, but her question squeaked out of her throat.

He paused. Confusion flitted across his face before he carelessly shrugged. “I’ll be taking more than a taste when I rip into your throat.”

Acting terrified, she pretended to drop in a dead faint, while slipping the thorn in front of her.

“Dammit, I hate a fainter,” he said amid a snarl. “They go limp and there goes all that fear enhanced sweat coating her skin. I like the skin moist and fresh, not limp.”

The edge of the thorn bit into the tender skin of her hand. The thought of killing someone, even a monster, terrified her. She briefly closed her eyes, praying for strength.

Surging upward, she slammed the hand-sized thorn into the vampire’s crotch.

The vampire bellowed in agony, flinging her away from him as if she were no heavier than a baseball.

Screaming, Emma flew through the air, sailing past several trees. Branches slapped at her body, slashing her face. She crashed a dozen feet into the forest, skidding across the hard ground.

For once, luck was on her side and she landed in a patch of scraggly grass and old leaves. She shuddered in relief; grateful she sat covered in dirt and not filled with holes from the thorn covered tree trunk standing less than a foot away.

She struggled to her feet as the vampire’s howl of pain echoed through the trees.

Cursing her own rotten luck, she shivered. She knew his cries would attract more vampires. That was not a good thing. The mere thought of trying to fight another of his kind made her stumble.

In the distance, a bellow, a true roar sounded. Loud and stringent, the sound grew harsh, filling the air with a wild, savage edge. The noise overwhelmed the vampire’s wail of pain.

The fury-laced sound jerked her to a stop, nearly knocking her to her knees. A soft cry of fear slipped past her lips.

Her dark brown eyes grew huge. Terror ripped through her, turning the blood in her veins to ice. Grabbing a tree for support, she held on for dear life. The sapling was the only thing holding her trembling body upright. Blood rushed through her body, thundering a rapid tempo in her ears.

Whatever made that roar had to be huge, huge as in humongous. There was no way she could fight a creature that big.

The vampire’s pained groan filled the air.

Doubt flickered through her. Hesitantly, she stepped toward the meadow. Pushing a limb out of the way, she searched the ground for the wounded vampire.

Pale as death and shaking like a leaf in a windstorm, his hand reached out to her in supplication. His eyes, a web of shattered red, dug a hole through her. The awful sight screwed his attempt to look innocent.

Rocking on the ground, in a pool of blood, he beseechingly said, “Come to me, my beauty. Help me. I’ll not harm you.”

Intense cold filled her mind. A dream-like feeling washed over her and she took an involuntary step forward.

Chapter - The Hunt

Angry with himself for allowing the weird green forest to distract him, Tyler snarled under his breath. Once he smelled vampires, he knew his first guess had been correct. The appearance of the odd trees had to be part of an attack by the Southerners.

Intent on finding the bloodsuckers, he swung his head around seeking the vampire stench but couldn’t lock onto the elusive scent.

Growling in frustration, he unconsciously tugged on his inborn power. Dorcha sparked to life, increasing his natural sense of smell.

He turned into the breeze and immediately captured the bloody stench that shouldn’t be there. He trotted forward, silently crossing the leaf covered ground until he found a narrow path winding through the trees.

Gracefully, he dropped onto his knees, inhaling various unknown scents near the trail’s edge. A new scent teased his nose. He froze. The sweet aroma was as intriguing as the vampire’s smell was infuriating.

Sucking in a lungful of air, he savored the gentle smell. His dragon rolled in it, demanding more. The scent, a girl’s enticing scent, coated the occasional leaf. She smelled of fresh mountain rain infused with honeysuckle and fire. The dragon part of him grew still as if hunting. His entire being focused on the girl, on finding the source of the scent that captured his fascination.

He searched the ground for more clues. He had to find her. Instinctively, he knew the chase might take days, if not weeks, a chase of a lifetime, one that might end in death.

A boy’s wail of pain echoed in the distance, yanking Tyler’s rambling thoughts to a stop.

A second scream echoed through the trees. High-pitched and filled with fear, the sound hit him, smashing him square in the chest. The girl’s terrified scream pounded into his brain. He knew it was the girl with the touch of fire and honeysuckle in her scent.

Fury roared through him. He would allow no one to harm the girl. She was his.

The possessive thought blew his world, making him pause. He shook his head, unable to figure out why he was more concerned with a single girl than hunting down the vampires.