Blood and Scales: An Anthology

By Victoria Escobar, Ruthi Kight, Jacinta Maree and 7 more

Dragons are a race of mythical creatures shrouded in magic and mystery. Whether good or evil, countless stories have been written detailing their majesty. For centuries, mankind has searched for the facts regarding the true nature of these fantastic beasts.

Today, another quest for knowledge has struck our attention; a cure for diabetes. In this dragon themed anthology, ten authors have come together to create this collection of short stories to benefit the American Diabetes Association.

Authors are: E.C. Hibbs, Jacinta Maree, Victoria Escobar, Susan Burdorf, Luke McCallin, C.L. Matthews, Ruthi Kight, J.K. Radalyac, Bobbie Palmer and Heather Clawson.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Victoria Escobar
• Release date: Jun 8, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311661876

Victoria Escobar

Born in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, but with the ability to claim eight states as home; Victoria Escobar writes fiction from her current home in New York. She writes whatever comes to mind and because of such has a variety of genres written including Young Adult, New Adult, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, and Contemporary Fiction.In spare time if not with family, and friends Victoria enjoys curling up with a book from a favorite author with music playing. If not reading or writing she spends time drawing, sketching, crocheting, or some other random art project. She enjoys staying busy, but most of all enjoys staying creative.

Book preview

Allana Kephart & Melissa Simmons

Diabetes, to me, is one of the scariest diseases out there. When not tended to properly it can destroy lives, it can kill. I know this from experience; I watched my father battle with his diagnosis for years. It ravaged his body-taking his ability to walk and destroying his kidneys until he was on dialysis and in a wheelchair, dependent on others to care for him. I watched diabetes break my father down from the inside out. It aged him too fast and ultimately took him from me long before I was ready for him to be gone. It’s so important to me that we do everything possible to help find a cure for this disease. Thank you to the ten extremely talented authors who have donated their time and talent to this project, it really means the world to me.

~Mel

My dad was diagnosed with diabetes when I was really young—five, maybe six. I was too little to know just how horrible this disease could be, how it could creep in and ruin a person’s life, so it didn’t scare me like it does now. He was my hero (still is)—invincible. Nothing could take him down in my opinion, especially not some silly little blood condition. But after living with it for 15+ years, I know just how deadly it can be. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve seen the way it’s affected him and his life. And last year, my mom was diagnosed as pre-diabetic, and it’s taken a toll on how she lives, as well.

There is absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do to somehow gain the knowledge on how to somehow destroy this sickness and wipe it from not just my parents’ lives, but every person struggling with it every day. That being said, I can’t say enough thanks to all the authors involved in this project and to you, the readers that purchased a copy of this anthology and therefore donated to our charity. I appreciate you all so much and I am sending big, fluffy snuggles to you all. Much love.

~Allana

Dedication

To all the people out there who are struggling with diabetes every day. Know that we are right here fighting alongside you, and we will never stop looking until we find a cure.

We love you.

Burn it all. There’s nothing salvageable here.

Bayou Louisa.

I jerked upright in an automatic response to being shouted at, and then gagged on the thick, black clouds of smoke clogging the tiny room.

Even half asleep, school lessons took over on autopilot and I dropped down rolling off my bed to the floor. I waited there for a heartbeat, allowed my mind to engage, and breathed some less polluted air. My head pounded and blackness edged around my vision. My eyes darted around the room to survey my options. I knew I had to get out.

I turned to my window and kicked the glass out, knowing that would be the fastest option. Why waste time in a struggle with the frame?

Screams and something else, something that made the throb in my head worse, filled the room through the broken glass. My building wasn’t the only one that burned. From my vantage point ten stories up, I saw the entire city washed in red flame.

Before I could change my mind, I climbed down to street level. The mass of screaming, panicked people knocked me to the ground the moment my feet touched the pavement. Every time I tried to climb to my feet, I met the concrete once more. I wasn’t large enough to fight the wave of frantic motion.

The sudden swoosh and violent gust of air froze me in place and my eyes lifted to the sky. For one single instant, the incessant throb in my head grew so intense my vision wavered. I didn’t think there could be something worse than the city on fire, but the great, bronze beast that seemed to pause just overhead made everything worse just by existing.

I knew what to call it; after all, they held a leading role in many fairy tales. My mind, however, refused to believe what my eyes saw. Dragons didn’t exist.

It is done.

Startled, I looked around with the expectation someone stood close by, but a single glance informed me I sat alone in an empty street. The loud populace had vanished to cower in corners when the flying beast arrived.

I looked up again and could just make out the outline of another dragon. The smaller black creature dipped lazily in and out of the smoke billows. I almost believed the ache in my head, the voices I heard, could be them. But how?

The ones remaining are fortunate. This voice rumbled deeper, richer than the other.

At that moment there was no way to say for certain it wasn’t them, but I still pushed away the idea the voices belonged to the dragons. On one hand, no one stood near me talking. On the other hand, no other plausible explanation could clarify how I could hear them so far in the sky.

More manageable, anyway. You should be pleased, the original voice spoke again. The carelessness in the tone insinuated a shrug.

Perhaps. This world is worse than we thought. We waited too long to act. Take the brothers and do a final pass. I’ll move in from the islands.

The black dragon circled casually with a wing dipped to the much larger bronze dragon before he turned and headed north. The large dragon flapped his great wings in a hard thrust and turned south.

I didn’t gape any longer. I may not have been the greatest student, but I knew what the dragons intended to do. Even at twelve years old, their actions were obvious.

I headed for the river as fast as I could. The pounding in my head lessened for a few blocks and then increased to dizzying pain as eight black dragons appeared on the horizon, breathing liquid fire down on the city. Horrified, I watched as they drew near. The closer they came the worse my head pounded, until it reached excruciating levels. I collapsed to the concrete and curled into a fetal position. I waited for the inevitable fire to come with eyes tightly shut against the red sky.

Ten Years Later

Ma’am? Miss Lunitari?

My eyes snapped open. I warned the villagers not to touch me while I slept. Not that I had been completely asleep. Sleep didn’t come when the ghosts of the past demanded attention.

‘Lunitari’ was my huntress name. A dragon couldn’t enchant without a real name, which was why most hunters changed their name every few years for safety. I’d never had to, but then I wasn’t most hunters.

The boy that stood in the doorway had taken my threat to heart. He had no visible inclination to enter the little room the town mayor offered for free.

I’ll be right out, I told him in a crisp, clear tone that gave no hint I had been asleep only moments before. The boy nodded and stepped back, closing the door quietly.

I stretched before lowering my feet from the table they propped on. I napped in the chair; no chance of being stabbed in the back that way. I stretched out of routine to warm up and then began to check my gear.

I’d never been nervous before an assignment, but my hands shook as I tightened straps on bracers and greaves. Broken rules came with heavy consequences.

Never hunt without a partner. The first rule of the hunters was ingrained deeply before we ever left the academy. If the dragon survived a hunt, he would retaliate on the town. Never hunt when there wasn’t someone to cut off the head if you missed the heart, and yet I intended to do just that.

What did I hope to achieve by breaking one of the most important rules? I couldn’t kill two dragons on my own, and regardless of what the people here said, I knew there were two dragons.

Dragons only had one elemental power. There was no dragon who breathed fire during the spring and summer, and ice in the autumn and winter. Then again, typical dragons didn’t share territories, either.

My hands steadied when I tucked my shirt neatly into the leggings. The black shirt created from dragon’s skin looked like linen. The material would protect my ribs and organs from almost any impact.

The vest on top ribbed in a very distinguishable dragon’s scale fashion. Most focused attention on the vest, not the long sleeved shirt. Both cost a fortune, but were worth it in the long run.

The swords on my back were another obvious tell–tale sign of my profession. If I wore only mine, perhaps I wouldn’t be in this mess. Lack of foresight on my part.

The added sword belonged to Tulkas. Weapons of the fallen were to be returned to the academy so the proper respect could be paid. I followed the tradition, no matter how much trouble it got me into.

I checked to make sure my pale, golden hair still retained the three–foot braid before going to the wash basin to rinse my face. The image in the mirror made me grimace.

My blue eyes sported freckles of brown, as if someone flicked a paint brush over the irises. The color didn’t cause problems, but the heavy, dark circles gave an impression of fatigue and beaten–downness I could do without.

I shouldn’t be here. I should have moved on and taken the sword to Freyja. Then I could have comfortably slept away the fatigue until assigned to a new partner and went through the process of bonding with him or her.

The academy I called home was still weeks away on foot. A transport in the next town would carry me for a few hundred miles. Once I reached the mountains I’d have to walk through what used to be the Carolinas.

Dammit, Tulkas. I dropped my head against the glass. What did I think I could accomplish here? No glory could be gained from this.

I rushed to meet death. Why? Stupidity rewarded no one–another lesson from the academy–but I couldn’t turn back now. I’d given my word.

Since I couldn’t do anything about the dead or the weariness that dragged from failure, I straightened and gave myself a steady, firm look.

I am the protector of the people, I told my reflection. It is me they count on. I am the hope bringer. I am the strength of the weak. Saying part of the manifesto helped. I would do this; I could do this. The town relied on me.

Lady Huntress, the mayor, a short man gone soft from too many years of gluttony while others starved, greeted me as I emerged from the inn into the cool fog of predawn.

Perhaps I called him short unfairly, but everyone was short to me. At just over six feet, I posed an intimidating image. The weapons were just an added bonus.

Mister Mayor, is everyone safely inside? I scanned the sky but knew nothing flew above yet.

Yes, your instructions were delivered. We’re about to set out the dragon’s tribute for this month.

Only set out half of it, I commented with my attention on the tiny specks lining the horizon. I pressed against the wall in my mind that let me feel a dragon’s psyche. Just birds, I confirmed, and mentally kept a hand on my wall.

Half? the mayor sputtered. But the dragon…

Must land and transform. Dragons are much easier to kill in their human shell than in their natural skin. You’ll stand next to the tribute. The dragon will want to know why it’s only half. He’ll land and transform to speak to you. He can’t speak to you otherwise. Dragons don’t have vocal cords in their natural state. I dismissed his fear with a waved hand. If you cannot, one of your sons can surely retain his bowels long enough to get the dragon on the ground.

But, the dragon will sense your presence, the mayor protested.

My smile sharpened and the mayor visibly paled. No. He won’t. I’ve done this several times, Mister Mayor. Do as I say, and you will be dragon free before the breakfast fires start.

He licked his lips and nodded. All right. Excuse me while I go tell the men what to do.

I nodded and turned from him to the tribute circle. I crouched back against the king stone, slightly in front of where the mayor would stand. The dragon would have to pass me to speak to the mayor. If he came from the cliff side as the mayor insisted he always did, then he wouldn’t see me at all.

The mayor took twenty minutes to relay his instructions, and then stood wringing his hands where he’d been instructed to wait. The dragon would want to land as close to the edge as possible, as their instincts told them to leave an easy retreat.

I closed my eyes for the wait and felt fatigue try to grab me with cold fingers. Not yet. I pushed it away. Not quite yet.

I felt the spark of a dragon press against my mental wall after a few minutes of tense waiting. As a child it had blinded me; doubled me up in pain, but my teachers at the academy recognized the gift I held and taught me how to hone it. More importantly, they taught me how to build the wall. My gift allowed me complete invisibility from a dragon, but not they from me.

I could sense them and judge their distance through the mental wall without touching it. If I pressed against the barricade I could hear what they said, and if I touched their minds without the shield I could pull their thoughts directly.

However, the price of the latter act was discovery. If I touched their minds even briefly, they would know my presence.

I felt the dragon split into two pieces and confirmed one of my suspicions. There were two of them.

I will wait in the clouds above. The day is overcast.

All right.

If I guessed right, it would be the fire breather to come down and collect. Fire dragons were harder to kill than ice ones. I’d rather kill him first. The other would come in for an attack once his counterpart screamed his death cry.

It’s not all there. His tone held puzzlement.

Find out why. Maybe they need some encouragement, the other replied. Hurry up; we have women at home.

I carefully kept my scoff silent and to myself. Typical male. The behavior couldn’t even be considered exclusive to dragons.

I counted the beat of the wings to stay calm. The magic that prickled the air made the hairs on my arms rise. The dragon had transformed into the likeness of a man. He should be almost eight feet tall or taller.

He can’t hide his tail or his horns, I told myself, trying to recite lessons to help me remain calm. He could–if he wanted to–be aware of everything that generated heat, which would have made this plan useless. However, like an air dragon being aware of everyone that breathed, it held too much awareness and blinded more than it helped.

What is the meaning—

I didn’t let him finish. I lunged from where I crouched, drawing dirks from my greaves as I moved. Violently, I drove my right blade into his back and the left in between his ribs. He roared and threw himself backwards, taking me to the ground with him.

I struggled to maintain my grip–his strength made mine look pitiful–and I was forced to remove and thrust the dirk in my left hand a little lower at a different angle. I had missed the heart the first time; a stupid mistake that could cost greatly. He screamed and rolled again, throwing us both over the cliff’s edge.

The knowledge that there was still a dragon in the sky forced me to let go and grab for the cliff side. When my hand caught, I released the tumbling dragon, not tracking his descent as I hastily climbed up.

Landis. The other dragon shouted his partner’s name repeatedly. My ears rang from the trill and I pulled away from the mental wall.

Inside, I shouted as I pulled myself over the ridge and ran towards the mayor. Get inside now. The other one comes.

I didn’t have to point up; the dragon’s roar of outrage shook the trees and disturbed the birds. As the mayor tripped over his feet towards the inn, I jumped up onto a king stone and drew a child–sized crossbow from my vest.

The crossbow shot like automatic guns of old and I filled the sky with barbs. The dragon opened his wings, at the last moment slowing his dive and accepting the barbs. I dove recklessly to avoid the spray of ice.

The dragon screamed in raged agony as he spiraled to the ground. Wings were soft, flexible, and not as protected as the rest of the body. When he ignored the onslaught of barbs to attack me, I doubted he suspected they would rip through the tender flesh and inject a poison that hunters called Priscilla.

Normal cross bolts didn’t have the strength to pierce dragon skin, and normal poison was a waste of time due to their blood contents. Nothing about what I did, however, could be classified as normal.

The ground shuddered with the impact as he crashed to the solid earth. He thrashed and moaned, unable to get the barbs out to stop the flow of poison. He wouldn’t stop the poison unless he transformed, but to allow the vulnerable opening while he did so wasn’t a risk any dragon would willingly take.

I drew Tulkas’s sword from my back. This one would have been his. Warily, I approached.

The dragon might manage to free himself from Priscilla, but not likely as his thrashing slowed and his breathing grew more labored by the second.

I advanced from his left, since dragons had a weak spot of scales where the joints met. From there I could thrust the sword into his heart and be done with him. With a great heave, the icy monster flicked his tail in my blind spot. The serpentine appendage caught me across the chest and flipped my body against one of the stones.

My ears rang and my vision grayed with the force of the impact. My head connected with stone and I felt the slight trickle of blood from just above my brow and from my nose. My sword was now out of reach, but I didn’t worry yet. I always had a backup plan.

We can die together, I told him and he turned his head to watch. His eyes were smoke gray, the color of snow clouds.

Lifting a leg to reach the boot beneath the greaves, I pulled a butterfly sword out. He watched as I approached, oddly calm. Priscilla held him tightly, which left him out of strength.

Instead of taking chances this time, I climbed his hulking chest and sat right above his heart. With him unable to deflect, nothing stopped me from scraping away a few scales and leaving his heart open for attack. When the scales clattered to the ground, he closed his eyes.

I raised the sword, but as I did the sudden blinding pulse in my head made me jump and dive on instinct. Fire rained over the ice dragon and several of the nearby buildings went up in flames.

I rolled several feet from my jump, not only from momentum, but because I hadn’t quite jumped fast enough. My right leg blazed and although it was only minimal contact, the fire dragon’s breath burned hotter and faster than human fire.

When I regained my feet, the dragon Landis had already banked and bore back down on me. I could only hope the pitiful moan from the ice dragon stalled the fire breather long enough for me to get away. That’s when I did the only thing I could think to do…I limped to the cliff’s edge and jumped.

Landis didn’t follow me over the side to char my body against stone. His psyche remained above, near the other dragon. His reaction was only to protect, which saved my life… for the moment.

I pressed my feet firmly against the cliff and pushed, jumping out away from the stone in one swift, fluid motion. The trees were almost close enough that I might be able to break my fall among the branches. Since my hand still clutched the butterfly sword in a white knuckle grip, I might be able to stick it into a tree. While I might yank my arm out of socket, there wouldn’t be a sudden and unwelcome death at the bottom. There were a lot of mights in that equation, but I didn’t have time to reevaluate my choices.

Admittedly I had panicked, and at the time it seemed like a good idea to jump off a cliff instead of roasting to a crisp. However, dragon fire was fast becoming a less painful death then one at the end of this fall.

I missed the tree I aimed for–probably because my vision wavered in and out from the pain of the burn–and struck a wide branch with my shoulders.

The resulting wild spiral successfully smashed me into other branches and I felt like a hundred men beat me on the way to the ground. Each strike knocked out what little air I could inhale and made my vision spotty from the lack of oxygen.

The trees did break my fall, but not as much as I hoped. The sudden stop from twelve feet of uncluttered air slammed me against the ground with probably the same amount of force an uninterrupted fall from the cliff top might have been. My shirt and vest kept ribs from snapping, but did nothing for the bruises or very sudden lack of breath.

Since I wore nothing to protect my head, not only did it hit the tree branches on the way down, but my skull impacted solidly against the ground, too. Only training and severe fear of death by dragon prevented me from blacking out completely.

Climbing to my feet took more effort and energy than anticipated. Have to keep moving, I told myself. Have to get to the hidden supplies.

Rule number two of being a hunter: always have a backup plan for the backup. Late in the night after the town had slept, I walked until I found a cave in the cliff’s side that could only be accessed by a narrow opening. I had to turn sideways and suck in, which made it ideal. Most people wouldn’t put themselves in such an uncomfortable position out of curiosity. Children, maybe. Adults, not so much.

I wasn’t sure if I could make it to the hiding place before the sun fully came up, but I had to damn well try. Sheer stubbornness helped me manage the slow, staggering walk.

Sweat marred my brow and my breath came in ghastly wheezes. My leg burned as if acid had been poured on it. Fire would have been kinder.

When I reached the gap in the stone face my abused body protested as I wiggled. My lungs stabbed with defiance while I attempted to hold my breath long enough to force my body into the small space where supplies were hidden.

My tent stood anchored in place, and crawling inside revealed all the equipment exactly as I had left it. If needed, I could hide in the little cave until I was well enough to travel again. The better plan would be to wipe on some balm and salve, pack up, and move as fast as possible out of the dragons’ territory.

First things first, I told myself. I kicked out of my boots and carefully took the butterfly sword to what remained of my pants. I couldn’t wiggle out of them while injured in the limited space without making it worse.

It’s not so bad, I mused aloud to hear myself. Some of Morrigan’s salve and a wrap and I should be able to walk without drawing attention by tomorrow morning.

The healers made the salve from a fire dragon’s oils. The dragons were good for many things—once dead. Healing items were only one of the few.

I rubbed a thick layer on and sighed in relief as the continuous burning sensation faded to a dull ache. The burn itself would take longer to heal, but the effects of the fire would be muted. I made sure to add another charitable layer of salve on the wound before wrapping it as tightly as I dared.

With the wound dealt with, I cleaned the sword and put it away before pulling out the small, flat communicator. The dragons burned all the radio towers to ash, but they couldn’t control the satellites in space. Lucky us.

There’s nothing salvageable here. The thought came unbidden and I squashed it. There were plenty of salvageable things left in the world.

I flicked on the communicator and waited for the flashing red light to turn solid. Valinor, this is Lunitari, en route, delayed. Complementaries, Ozarks, over.

‘Complementaries’ were dragons, and like the art form were opposites. However, they mirrored each other like ying and yang. They didn’t usually share territories, but instead had territories that bordered each other. Dragons were often helpful towards one another, just not towards humanity.

Understood. Package from Jade Emperor received. Paladine is waiting. ETA, over.

I winced. Paladine wasn’t known for patience, and for the Chinese to have delivered their portion of Xiang already–the dragon that killed Tulkas–they must have worked around the clock to harvest, preserve, and pack. I should have arrived before the dragon did.

I had no choice but to rely on honesty. ETA unknown. Complementaries didn’t wash out. Over.

The pause lengthened uncomfortably and I felt a bead of sweat run down my back. They could turn me out for the broken rules. I would be considered rogue from the academy and would have to take on mercenary jobs for work. As a woman that thought wasn’t pleasant, but I was damned if I’d whore out like so many others did.

Understood. Deadline, fourteen days. Out. The red line on the communicator returned to blinking. Valinor had cut the connection.

I exhaled slowly. I had two weeks to get to Valinor or I would be cast out. I didn’t think about the implications of that. If I did, I would freak out.

Robotically, I ate rations and washed it down with lukewarm water. I’d rest today and move in the dark. Dragons had great night vision, but I felt more comfortable in the shadows. When I reached the Mississippi I’d take a ferry south and buy a horse to make the deadline.

The village would have to take care of itself for now. I couldn’t help them any further; not until I could get to Valinor and request a team be sent out to clean up my mess.

With my appetite sated for the moment, I lay down and tried to get comfortable on the hard ground without bothering my leg. With my head resting on the supply of clothes for a pillow, I closed my eyes and tumbled into sleep.

The spidery tingles on my ribcage made me scream and jolt. Then I struggled in a panic when I couldn’t move or see. The quiet male laughter froze my blood. There were no spiders.

You were difficult to track down. The hot words whispered against my neck and over my bare shoulder. Wait, what?

I struggled to use my other senses, a skill I wasn’t particularly good at. My eyes were my best tool, and I had been blindfolded. My hands were tied behind my back and as far as I could tell, I laid against a furnace.

The form had to be Landis, the fire dragon. That would explain the unnatural heat.

The ground dipped and gave when another body drew close and pressed against the front of my torso; a mattress, not hard earth. I really wished I had paid more attention in the sensory lessons.

Tsk, tsk. A great and powerful dragon hunter scared of spiders. What would the people think if they found out? The voice floated from in front of me and his body chilled my naked flesh when he pressed closer.

I closed my eyes behind the blindfold. The dragons had stripped my clothes off and taken me someplace, probably their labyrinth. Life just went from bad to worse.

I knew what came next. The academy prepped everyone well. Dragons couldn’t reproduce with each other. Males needed a fertile female from another species, and female dragons needed males from another species. Coincidence made humanity the new procreators of dragons.

However no one knew the process, exactly. Dragon births had never been witnessed. Did they need nests like reptiles or birds? Was delivery one at a time like humans? No one had ever found evidence in any labyrinths to support the theories.

Let me go. I hated the way my voice quaked, so I cleared my throat before continuing, I can’t help you.

Help? Landis nuzzled my neck again. What help do you think we want from a murderer?

I save lives, I countered. I end tyranny. I kill monsters.

Is that how you justify it? The cold one pressed harder against my chest. Is that how you sleep at night?

Lexis. Landis’s voice held a warning. We know you’re sterile, little girl. His hands travelled over the scar that covered most of my hip and pelvic bone. It’s obvious this bite did quite a bit of damage.

That doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, Lexis murmured, and I felt his breath on my cheek.

They should be dead. Priscilla should have killed them. If not Landis, then certainly Lexis. He’d been a pitiful lump of flesh when I jumped.

I braced myself and asked, How did you survive?

The better question is why a skilled hunter like yourself believes poison would kill us, Landis countered. My blood runs too hot, but you already knew that.

And mine too cold, Lexis breathed, centimeters from my mouth. What was in those bolts, little hunter?

I did the only thing I could think of to do. I spit in his face. I would die before giving secrets to dragons.

That was, Landis jerked my head back by my hair, incredibly foolish.

Incredibly, Lexis agreed.

I felt a tongue lick over my shoulder before Lexis bit in. I screamed and jerked to get out of his grasp, but Landis held tightly. Lexis’s double incisors were katana sharp, and he added just enough of his ice to the bite for it to burn worse than fire.

When Landis sunk his teeth into my other shoulder I thought I would die. The pain of his fire on my leg didn’t hold a candle to the misery created by his teeth in my skin. My screams turned to ragged gasps before I finally passed out from the agony.

The weeping woke me from disturbed dreams. My eyes flickered a moment, almost in a silent refusal to awaken, before the lids slowly lifted. The weeping faded to a barely audible whisper once fully awake and aware.

I sat up slowly and groaned when my head spun. The events of the last few hours crashed back and I mentally examined myself. I didn’t feel physically violated, but that thought didn’t relax me as much as it should have.

A white haired man in loose pants but no shirt sat in a chair in front of the low fire, swishing a glass and staring right at me. Good evening. There’s a dressing gown on the post there. He gestured towards it with his glass.

I couldn’t help but stare at the gazelle–like horns protruding from his head. They jutted from just above his ears at a forty–five degree angle and were ramrod straight. The low fire accented their rigor and made them appear as if they dripped with blood.

Reluctantly, I climbed from the bed and pulled on the robe that hung on one of the four posts. The material gave easily and felt like silk. The robe covered neck to ankle, and surprisingly, at my height, dragged a little on the floor. With the way it clung, the garment didn’t cover any part of me modestly and I felt more exposed in it than I had naked.

There’s a tray of food, he continued, and gestured with his glass again before sipping.

Did he not hear the weeping? He seemed almost casual; friend to friend instead of prey and hunter. My back stiffened.

I didn’t go for the tray. I wouldn’t risk whatever they’d put in it. Instead, I walked over to him and crossed my arms. What do you want from me?

Up close, I could see his eyes were the same as they were in his dragon form. They watched silently for a moment and he sipped his glass again. Have you heard of Stockholm Syndrome?

I frowned, not understanding. So what?

I’m Lexis. He stood, and automatically I stepped back. My hand reached for a blade that wasn’t there.

He didn’t dwarf me as much as I had anticipated. Landis, the fire dragon, was taller. Somehow, I expected them to be the same.

I still had to tilt my head up even with my height, but I wasn’t craning my neck. Just in case, I took another deliberate step back. I didn’t want him within arm’s reach.

His lips quirked in amusement. There’s no need for that. I won’t hurt you.

My hand moved to my shoulder where I could still very clearly feel his teeth marks. I’m sure. My dry tone didn’t go unnoticed.

He laughed. Only a precaution. He flicked a finger down my nose. Come eat, Bayou. You know you’re hungry. He walked over to the table and sat down opposite the tray.

I froze in place. He’d called me by name. How did he know my name? I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat, and with no other option, joined him at the table.

Lexis lifted the dome from the tray. Steak, potatoes, broccoli, and some bread and butter. I do believe there might be some pie later if you eat all your food like a good girl.

I didn’t reach for the silverware. What do you want? I asked again with something close to irritation in my tone.

Lexis shrugged, and the motion drew my attention to a silver design rippling over his shoulder and down his bare chest. The light hadn’t been right to see it before, and there still wasn’t enough strength in the illumination to make out what design created.

Eat, Bayou. He gave a charmed smile. If we wanted you dead, you would be. This is far more fun.

How do you know my name? I kept my hands in my lap. I didn’t know what kind of game they played, but I didn’t want to participate.

He sighed and picked up the fork and knife to cut the steak. I’ll feed you if I have to. Landis is out, but I know he’d be cross with me if you didn’t eat.

Baring my teeth, I snatched the silverware from his hands before he lifted it to feed me. How do you know my name? I’m getting tired of repeating myself.

Lexis leaned back with a shrug just as infuriating as his smile. "I’m not