Dragon Slayers: Slayers & Protectors, #1

By Kristin D. Van Risseghem

A reverse harem with a powerful magical heroine, a mystery that's dying to be solved, and four smoking hot dragon shifters. This series will be your latest reading addiction!

Brooklyn is New York's newest up-and-coming dragon slayer. Known as a Kill Shot, an elite assassin who can destroy dragons with one blow, Brooklyn is descended from slayer royalty. As her magic becomes more powerful—and more destructive—than it should, she seeks the help of four guys with unique abilities of their own.

Then love happens. The boys are hiding something, and are more than they appear. They're stronger. Faster. Dangerous.

But things are about to go from bad to worse. Brooklyn isn't just the strongest slayer alive—she also has no idea who she really is, and once she discovers the truth, her entire world will be changed forever. 

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A suspenseful urban fantasy combined with the best of paranormal romance, Dragon Slayers is a young adult novel packed with spells, secret kisses, and multiple forbidden romances. This edgy book by USA Today Bestselling author Kristin D. Van Risseghem will have you turning the pages all night!

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This is a reverse harem urban fantasy - paranormal romance series appropriate for ages 16+.

Mild language/swearing, open mouth kissing, low burn heat level, behind closed-door sex scenes, while the 17yo main character is dating four guys.

If you want to ease yourself into reverse harem, find out what the hype is all about, then this Dragon's Story series is right for you!

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This book ends on a cliffhanger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kasian Publishing LLC
• Release date: Mar 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9781943207589

Kristin D. Van Risseghem

Kristin D. Van Risseghem grew up in a small town along the Mississippi River with her parents and older sister. Currently, Kristin lives in Minnesota with her husband and two Calico cats. She also loves attending book clubs, going shopping, and hanging out with friends. She has come to realize that she absolutely has an addiction to purses and shoes. They are her weakness and probably has way too many of both. In the summer months, Kristin can usually be found lounging on her boat, drinking an ice cold something. Being an avid reader of YA and Women’s Literature stories, she still finds time to read a ton of books in-between writing. And in the winter months, her main goal is to stay warm from the Minnesota cold! Kristin’s books are published by Kasian Publishing.

Book preview

It’s graduation night , and I’m lucky enough to be part of it. My classmates of Level One surround me in the large conference room. Fifty of us have gathered to hear our mission and if we pass, we move onto Level Two.

Everyone sit down, please, Mr. Astor says, walking into the room. The York Academy Head Instructor has on brown pants with his trademark sweater vest. We have a big night ahead of us, so let’s not waste time.

The students scramble to find a seat in the middle section. Level Two and Three take the outer rows. I’m left standing in the back corner. No one offers me a seat next to them, nor saves me a seat. It’s not a big deal, really: they’ve been acting this way since I arrived eleven months ago to the prestigious school. I think it’s because they’re afraid of me, my family position on the Council, or it could be that I’m socially awkward and they know it.

As I look around the room and scan the faces of my would-be friends, I realize some of them may not come back tonight. In fact, I could be one who doesn’t.

Maybe it’s a good thing I never got close to anyone. If I don’t make it back, no one would miss me. Except my parents.

Most everyone in my Level is seventeen years old. Anyone can apply. Only the best applicants are accepted and after months of academic training, they can attend graduation night.

Congratulations on making it this far, Mr. Astor says. Stay focused and vigilant, and tomorrow evening you’ll be inducted into Level Two. We know for sure your target is out tonight. One has been spotted near Claremont Village. Manny Lauren will be your Senior Team Lead. We’ll be dropping you off about ten blocks outside of the village. He points to the large map behind him. Now, go and select your weapons and be at the front gate in fifteen minutes.

We are dismissed.

Manny Lauren is going to be our Lead? Get it together, Brooklyn. I close my eyes and steady my breathing.

I shouldn’t be thinking of my crush. I need to get my head in the game and focus on the mission. It’s our first, and hopefully last, mission as a Level One. I wring my hands together.

Are you ready? I know that deep, husky voice. My eyes open, and I’m staring directly into emerald green ones. You’re the last to leave, Manny says.

When my father dropped me off at the York gates eleven months ago, Manny was my personal tour guide. That’s a perk for my parents being very wealthy. All the other students were sectioned into groups and led around campus by other Level Three students.

Um, yeah, it’s just nerves, I say, wiping my sweaty palms on my black jeans from jitters about my mission, and if I’m honest, from him being so close. He scans my body and nods in approval.

My mother bought my attire: a black silk corset that’s infused with magic to mold to my skin like a second layer. It has hidden pockets near the small of my back that sheaths a set of knives, and under that a white V-neck tank top that flares at the bottom hem. To cover it all is a black leather duster, threaded with titanium. It’s one of a kind and can defend against talons. It’s a good thing I also wear black leather, knee-high boots that have six Velcro strips. Twelve throwing knives are strapped onto my legs. They won’t kill my quarry, but it will annoy them. All I need is a split second to flee.

I’ll just go ... and get my crossbow, I say.

Don’t forget the arrows. A sly smile forms on his lips.

As the Level One students board the awaiting vans parked outside the main gate, my thoughts linger to my first week of school as I wait in line.

You’d think since my parents are old money, everyone would want to be my friend. To be in good graces with the power couple who owns half of New York City. I have the best of everything: clothes that have been seen on the runways in the current season, high-tech gadgets, and one of the few students to have a car at the academy. Many people think that my parents bought my seat here. I’ve earned my spot because of my outstanding grades and effort.

Maybe they resent me for what I have, passing judgement instead of getting to know me first.

I only have one friend, and I say that loosely. Manny and I hit it off on that first day, while he gave me the tour of the school. He showed me the dorms, gym, cafeteria, and the class halls, the final stop was the Lounge. All the students, no matter what Level you were, go there to hang out and relax. After spending hours with him showing me around campus, I had a full-on crush. After the initial shock of where I’d become a dragon slayer, and his handsome looks, our banter came easy.

Since then, I managed to keep myself company. Before the rest of the student population is awake, I’ve already been training in the gym or studying in the library for at least two hours. A couple times, I’d see Manny also doing drills. He’d wave, or smile, and on rare occasions we’d chat.

My classmates steer clear of me. Maybe because of the two guards who chaperoned me on that first day. My father pitched it to the board where he insisted my security follow me, especially out on the missions. He lost that battle. The school wouldn’t allow them on campus or while on missions since they are school sanctioned activities.

Hey, are you getting on? the driver asks.

I’m the last person to get into the van. I stand behind the driver’s seat. He’s waiting for me to sit.

Here, this is open. Manny waves his hand and scoots over.

Thanks, I say.

Manny is smoking hot with wavy, brown hair that looks silky soft. I know he works out a lot since he is our Skills Instructor, and during some of those classes he’s worn tight-fitting shirts that shows impeccable abs and well-sculpted arms. It’s not only his physical appearance that makes Manny so irresistible to me. He’s compassionate and sweet, while his emotions play out in his wonderful green eyes. Which is why my body always heats up when I see him. But he’s our Level One Skills teacher, and I won’t cross that line. It’d normally be weird crushing on him, but he’s a Level Three and only nineteen years old.

I stare at his eyes that remind me of well, green gems. His tough exterior hints at a badass, which send chills down my spine. Nervous? he asks.

No. I can’t keep my hands from shaking. He winds his fingers through mine. We’ve always had this thing between us. I don’t see him much, unless we’re out on missions or training. Up until now, Oners were the back-up group. Tonight is our graduation night, and Levels Two and Three scout.

After this evening, I’ll officially be a dragon slayer.

Dragons are real. In fact, they pre-date the dinosaurs. How do I know this? My family is old. I mean, really old. Our history goes as far back as when humans first roamed the earth. Groups of us went after the dragons and not many returned. As centuries passed our fighting skills, weapons, and tactics changed with the technological advances we made throughout time. At first sling shots and clubs were used, then bows and arrows, and finally the gun when it was introduced in the thirteenth century.

The dragons did not have any weapons to use. They were the weapon. Back in the early days, what was used against them couldn’t penetrate through their thick scales. Eventually we found out that they had magic on their side and could conceal their human bodies. What could humans do against beasts the size of dinosaurs? Not much. So their numbers grew and spread across the world. Using ginormous leathery wings they are creatures like a pterodactyl on steroids.

As time went on, a Slayer Council was created to gather and pass data to other regions of the world. My parents are the only two who remain from the original members’ line. So, I guess you could say that I’m kinda like royalty, which may also be a reason why I’m alone.

The stop of the van jolts me from my absent staring out of the window. The ride doesn’t take long at all. New York City has an underground tunneling system that matches the roads above it. The Slayers built it before the city became what it is today. Yes, we’ve been around that long. Our school and Council are the only ones who know about the secret passageways and the hidden doors. It cuts the time in half when we’re needed across town since if we don’t have to battle the bumper to bumper traffic above.

Manny squeezes my hand. I look down at our threaded fingers and wonder why he’s holding it. Butterflies flutter in my belly and my heart pounds.

I give him a tentative smile, and he lets go of my fingers. Each Oner grabs a titanium shield as they pass us and step through a magical doorway and up onto a vacant street. The van leaves as we huddle around Manny and wait for our instructions.

A dragon has been seen around this area, Manny says. Your mission is to capture and slay it. He stares at each Oner, and his gaze lingers on me for a split second longer. Stay in a tight formation, and we’ll all get through this together. Now, let’s head off that way. He points and we scatter. It’s not as tight of a group as I’d like it to be, or Manny would probably like.

Normal humans who don’t possess magic can’t see us, or the dragons. Our magic keeps us hidden and our Social Media Team at the school knows how to spins stories when things gets out of hand.

I take off and follow the tail end of my classmates and then veer toward the Morrisania neighborhood. The old brick buildings are nestled in between newly refurbished ones. The neighborhood is trying to give its self a facelift. After jogging three blocks, I realize that I’m alone. Between my looking around and not paying attention, my class has left me behind. I slow my pace to regroup. There are two options I can take: go back the way or proceed forward in hopes that I meet up with my team. Neither option is great. My breathing races and palms start to sweat. Every noise jerks my head in different directions.

Then the night becomes eerily quiet. Even the flickering streetlight above me doesn’t make a popping sound as it rotates between on and off. I’m crouched next to a blue dumpster that has tangled one too many times with a truck and lost. The smell makes me nauseous.

A large shadow from an animal passes over the alley, blocking out the buildings’ lights, the moon, and the stars.

Come on Brooklyn, you can do this. You’ve been training for this moment, and you must pass to graduate to the next Level.

I slowly unfold myself from my squatting position, but then a haunting screech breaks the silent evening, stopping me in my tracks.

It’s close.

I briefly wonder where the rest of my classmates are and where Manny is. We are supposed to stay together.

As the Senior Team Leader on this mission, he should have stayed by me. Maybe he’s with the others. He wouldn’t abandon us and leave anyone to die. He’s not like that. Manny is one of the best students in Level Three, which is why he’s our Leader tonight and has been our Skills instructor.

A massive fireball zooms toward my face, breaking me out of my thoughts. I hold my shield up to cover my body, not wanting to get my clothes burned off. Reaching behind me, the comforting feel of my stainless-steal crossbow is lifted and ready to take aim. Titanium is the only thing that can penetrate through the thick scales that coats the beasts we hunt. It’s infused into our shields, weapons, and if you can afford it, into clothing.

The enormous shadow disappears from the entrance of the alley. It takes five seconds for it to finally pass.

Come on; show yourself.

I know it’s near. I can feel its magic soaking into my skin. The tiny hairs on my neck rise. Heat drips down my back as if the air itself is being scorched.

My eyes lift, and then they widen.

Looming over me is my target, but it seems now that I’m its prey. The darkness of the night hides the dragon. I can’t tell the true size or color. I aim an arrow, but another fireball launches from its open mouth, streaming toward me. I leap out of the way, just in time. Panic ensnares my body as the smell of something burning floats to my nose. The bell sleeve of my jacket catches fire, and I quickly snuff out the flames.

With shaking hands, I readjust the notch and let it fly. It misses as I watch the silver tip soar past its mark. I’ll have to retrieve the arrow later, if I survive. I would like to see my eighteenth birthday.

Then another earth-shattering cry vibrates through to my toes as the massive beast lands on the rooftop next to me. Rubble pelts down the side of the four-story structure. Violet eyes narrow, focusing directly on me. The head of the dragon hangs over the edge by its long neck. This close, the scales are midnight black. Stained teeth as long as cars drip with goo. Its body covers the width of the building and is just as tall. Even with the wings tucked in, they droop over the side. The rank breath blows from the opened maw, forcing me to stumble back.

Regaining my balance, I freeze in place. Then I remember my training. Being a sitting duck will get me killed.

Giant leathery wings flap, creating a gust of wind that makes me falter backward. I check my quiver. Three silver-tipped arrows are left. Taking aim at the violet colored eye, I better make them count.

Then a line of fire is hurled down the alley, burning everything in its path. No number of weapons can save me from a fiery death.

I’m trapped.

B rooklyn! I turn my head toward the street. Someone is running at lightning speed to get to me. I knew he wouldn’t have forgotten me. I’m coming. Hold on.

Fire persists against my shield, but my cover is still cool to the touch. A small thanks to the magic that’s infused with the titanium we use to create our weapons.

Manny slides like a baseball player toward me, and his shield meets mine, creating a larger barrier from the flames. Are you okay? His wide eyes scan my body.

Relief washes over me.

I thought I lost ... He shakes his head. You went the wrong direction at the drop point. His voice is all business.

I thought we were going left, I say.

"No, the dragons were hiding to the left, and we were all going to the right to surprise them from behind. We’ll sort that out later. Right now, we need a plan to get us out of here.

For all my studying of weapons, anatomy, and combat skills, it can’t make up for me botching the mission. It’s not my first mistake, and I have confidence that it won’t be my last. Maybe this is why no one wants to associate with me? Sometimes, I think he can read my thoughts, but I know he can’t. He’s told me on occasions that he can’t. It’s how I wear my thoughts on my face, and it doesn’t