Kissed by Fire: High School Dragons

By Katharina Gerlach

a love story with dragons

The flames of a car crash have killed Lydia's parents and erased her former life from her mind. No matter how much she tries, all she remembers is the agony of losing her family. To be able to go on, she seals her emotions in a hidden corner of her mind. She no longer cares that she's got to live with a foster mother or that she must to go to school again. The world has lost all color, all scent, and all sense.

But on her first day in Hilldale High School, she meets two young men that break through her barriers. Harm – strong, dark, and strangely old-fashioned, with a scent of smoking wood – lights up her senses. His mere presence forces her to face life again rather than the numbness of the half-life she chose. And then, there's Colin, whose gentle jokes and easy camaraderie soothe her soul and fill her with peace.

When a waste paper basket spontaneously ignites on its own, Lydia begins to dream of dragons. Now, the world she thought she knew confronts her with riddles she can only solve if she frees the memories she's bottled up so securely. Will she be able to find out who she is and what she wants before her past catches up with her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Independent Bookworm
• Release date: Feb 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9783956810930

Katharina Gerlach

Katharina Gerlach was born in Germany in 1968. She and her three younger brothers grew up in the middle of a forest in the heart of the Luneburgian Heather. After romping through the forest with imagination as her guide, the tomboy learned to read and disappeared into magical adventures, past times, or eerie fairytale woods. She didn’t stop at reading. During her training as a landscape gardener, she wrote her first novel, a manuscript full of a beginner’s mistakes. Fortunately, she found books on Creative Writing and soon her stories improved. For a while, reality interfered with her writing but after finishing a degree in forestry and a PhD in Science she returned to her vocation. She likes to write Fantasy, Science Fiction and Historical Novels for all age groups. At present, she is writing at her next project in a small house near Hildesheim, Germany, where she lives with her husband, her children and her dog.

Book preview

Prolog

Mordekay felt the warmth of his son under his wing as scales rubbed on scales. With their bodies hidden in the clouds like this, no human would ever see them; neither from below nor flying above in one of their loud, stinky machines. For a moment he indulged in the idea of snatching one such airplane from the sky. Maybe that would teach those pests that the sky wasn’t theirs. They’d already taken too much of the world.

We need to inform the Council, Mordekay said.

What about Lydia? His son stuck his head out of their hiding place to get a better view of the carnage below. The car was completely burnt out. Bits and pieces had flown as far as the trees on the other side of the road. It really was a surprise that Lydia had survived. She was now strapped to a stretcher and carried to a box-shaped car with bright red and yellow markings. She’s one of us. We can’t just leave her there.

Mordekay grinned a toothy grin. If he was lucky, the hatchling below would die. Humans didn’t have a clue how to treat a dragon’s injuries. Of course he wouldn’t admit having thoughts like that. He needed a better reason to leave the kid to the humans.

If we take her along, she’ll die. Look how much skin she’s lost. Let the humans take care of her for now. With the tip of his tail, Mordekay changed direction. It was time to show his son the destiny that awaited him. But first he had to fulfill a pleasurable duty. The Council needs to know that the king is dead.

First Chapter

My steps rang through the crisp morning air solid and more real than anything I’d lived through in the last few months. School. The word felt strange in my mind. I knew I should feel something; anticipation, fear, anything. But I didn’t.

I glanced at the tiny trees lining the street. Their reds, greens, and yellows seemed as faded as the song of the birds in the neighborhood, as unreal as the scent of freshly mowed grass wafting over from the football field. We’d be there soon.

My foster mother was walking beside me. Angie, her name was Angie. I needed to remember that. Sure, at sixteen it wasn’t cool to be accompanied to school by a grown up. But I just couldn’t take the car. Not after what happened. I slid the fingers of my right hand over the scar on my left. There were more under my shirt and my jeans. And big holes in my soul. Due to amnesia, I could not remember much but the bits and pieces I did recall were important … two faces looking at me with love … and fire, a lot of fire. It seemed my parents had been fire fighters of some sorts, but I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t recall their voices or the smell of their skins. And even though the doc said that’d come back in time, I felt the loss of my memories like a crater in my mind.

We’re nearly there. My fost… Angie pointed to a red brick building ahead of us. Many, many children hurried toward an entrance that reminded me of a gapping jaw. My throat fell dry. So many people although it was said to be a small school. By all I had been told, I came from a backwater village somewhere in the mountains, so my urge to flee probably came from not being used to crowds like this.

Jostled by one of the other school kids who threw a casual apology my way without looking, I stopped and watched the steady stream of students enter the building like waves of a sea. At least they didn’t remind me of fire. Too many things did. I sighed.

Are you alright? My fost… Angie put a hand on my shoulder. I know it’s bad enough to start a new school mid-term. Do you want me to go?

All of a sudden, my heart constricted. The air burned on its way down my throat, and everything turned red. Red like the flames that &hellip

No! I wouldn’t think of it. Not now. Not ever. Freaking out on my first day in school would most definitely not do.

Angie obviously thought I’d answered her. She was already climbing the stairs to the entrance. I breathed deeply to regain my composure. I couldn’t allow panic to paralyze me. Pressing my lips together, I followed Angie inside, ignoring elbows and schoolbags digging into my back and sides. Right behind the entrance, a man wearing a badge with the label supervising teacher on it searched through my school- and Angie’s handbag. He took my and Angie’s mobile, labeled them, and put them into a box.

Sorry, but the use of mobiles is prohibited during school hours, he said. You can pick up your phones when you leave.

Angie simply smiled and nodded. When she noticed me frown, she put a hand on my arm and said, It’s a new rule to see if the kids can concentrate better without distractions. It’s a month long trial.

I lowered my gaze and took other stuff back. After we got everything, we were allowed to walk on. A seemingly endless row of lockers stretched along a corridor filled with milling students. My heart kept beating a steady rhythm and I did my best to keep the lid on my emotions. Emotions were dangerous. I fixed my gaze on Angie’s back and followed her like a puppet. We had barely gone past the first few lockers, when a commotion behind us caught my attention.

Not so fast, young man! The voice rang through the hall like a trumpet, drowning out the constant hum of the arriving students. Involuntarily, I turned—like 99% of the people in the hall.

Please empty your pockets completely, boy, the supervising teacher said. The dark haired youth in black leather stared at him. He was already taller than the teacher and broad shouldered if a bit gangly. Still, my breath caught. There was something animalistic about him that made the bones in my body sing. What a guy. I didn’t know why but I took a step toward him before I caught myself. No emotions, I told myself but it seemed impossible to shake the instant attraction. What was wrong with me? That wasn’t normal.

What I carry in my pockets in not your business. His voice was deeper than I had expected and sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. If he had looked at me with those big, blue eyes, I would probably have stood rooted to the spot blushing redder than a royal cloak (now, where did that comparison come from, I wondered).

It is my duty to make sure you’re not carrying weapons or other forbidden items into this school. The supervising teacher didn’t budge. This also applies to new students like you, Harm.

The two stared at each other for a while, and then the new boy gave in. With a shrug he emptied the pockets of his jacket and jeans. They didn’t hold much, just some chewing gum, a wallet, a ripped necklace, his mobile, and a silver pendant depicting a dragon. I know I shouldn’t have been able to identify the dragon from this distance, but it somehow seemed to grow bigger as I looked at it. I pulled my gaze away and studied its owner. With the situation resolved, the other students returned to whatever they had been doing, but I couldn’t take my eyes of the young man. In a world of washed out colors and scents he stood out like a sore thumb or, more precisely, like the one beam of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

Don’t dawdle, Lydia. The head teacher is waiting for us. Angie took my arm, the boy’s presence faded, and my emotions went back to sleep. I welcomed the familiar numbness. It was better than risking another panic attack.

Angie and I maneuvered through the corridor and up a flight of stairs. My gaze clung to the boy for as long as I could see him. When we finally turned a corner, I sighed. The attraction I had experienced felt natural, and that bothered me. As far as I knew, I didn’t get along with most people very well. I’d been out of hospital for six weeks already before I spoke to my fos…, ehm Angie, for the first time. So why did the strange boy attract me so? Why did he wake emotions I didn’t want to have? How could I fancy him when my parents were dead? We turned another corner and entered the school bureau. A secretary with a friendly smile greeted us.

Ah, Mrs. Molda. You’re right on time. She held out her hand to Angie and then to me. So you must be Lydia. Welcome to Tangerine High. I know everything will seem confusing, but I’m sure you’ll settle in in no time. Compared with the other local High Schools, we’re a small school.

I forced a smile and managed a lopsided grin, but evaded her gaze.

Mr. Miller-Fielding is waiting for you. The secretary pointed to a door and put her hand on my back. I froze. Oops, sorry. I hope that didn’t hurt.

I cringed at her assumption. Sure, my body was quite scarred, at least under my clothes, but there were no open wounds left. After a year in hospital with countless skin transplantations, I was finally pain free—physically, not psychologically although I managed to keep my feelings bottled most of the time. For a split second I thought of the strange boy but pushed the thought aside.

Without a word, I followed Angie into the head teacher’s room. It was much smaller than I had expected and stuffed to the brim with shelves bending under the weight of the files stored within. In the middle stood a desk—empty except for one folder—with a bald, thin man sitting behind it. He greeted me with a smile and handed me the lock for my locker, a room plan, a lesson plan, and a leaflet about the school.

I tried to fit you into the smallest classes we currently have according to the lessons you chose, he said. I thought it would help you better to get used to your fellow students.

Such a thoughtful gesture, and it meant nothing to me. Since I couldn’t tell him how grateful I was, it would have been a lie, I lowered my head to hide my face and nodded.

She appreciates the thought, Angie said. Please remember to tell her teachers that she’s not speaking very much yet, but we’re working on it.

That’s perfectly fine by me, Mr. Miller-Fielding said.

Someone knocked at the door.

Come in, Colin. The head teacher seemed to know who was coming. I looked up and stared at the slowly opening door. A boy who looked my age entered. He was a little shorter than I was with a shock of blond hair in need of a cut with a slight reddish tinge that invited grown ups to ruffle it, and his brown doe-like eyes sparkled with mischief. He kept them trained on the head teacher, studiously struggling to not look at me. It was as if he already knew how much it bothered me to be stared at. I felt my heart thaw. Had it really been frozen?

At your service, Mr. Miller-Fielding, sir. He saluted.

How often do I have to tell you to stop that nonsense? The head teacher fought a smile. He pointed at me, and for the first time, Colin looked at me.

I instantly liked the freckles on his nose, so I did my best to smile. When he did the same, his whole face lit up as if someone had aimed a spotlight on him. He radiated fun and happiness, something I really needed right now. The cold numbness that filled my mind when the panic attacks didn’t claim me eased and for