CHARLIE
As consciousness returned to me, jumbled impressions flashed through my mind.
Those terrible ghostly beings. Their hands and fists and blades.
Their empty eyes as they stalked toward me.
Then, billowing fire. The scents of charred wood, flesh, and hair.
Something rough scraping repeatedly across my face…
My eyes snapped open—and I found another eye staring back at me.
This one was orange and reptilian, and below it grinned a mouth full of long, sharp teeth.
I screamed and tried to roll away, but found my legs were pinned in place.
I tried to brandish my weapons, but my hands were empty.
Then, the monster struck—lashing out with a lolling, forked tongue that dragged across my cheek like that of a dog licking its master.
It was only then that I understood.
“Parthar?” I whispered.
The dragon was bigger. Scarier looking. The buds on his head had grown into horns and his shoulders were broader than mine. But there was no doubt who this red-scaled beast was. I shouted his name: “Parthar!”
He nuzzled me then, alternately licking my face with his gritty tongue and rubbing his scaly cheek against mine while his long tail made happy loops in the air like a gymnast’s ribbon.
“Parthar!” I laughed. “How did you find me? Look at you, kid. You’re huge.”
He gazed at me intently, and I could tell he was trying to speak to me via simnal—but I wasn’t getting anything. Not a single word or sensation.
Parthar tilted his head at me, annoyed.
My smile faltered.
“I’m sorry. There’s… something that’s changed about me.”
He leaned in, nostrils flaring as he sniffed me. Then he tilted his head again.
I raised my upper lip, showing him my teeth. Even though I’d just awakened, the blood hunger was already echoing inside me, and I could feel my incisors getting long. When Parthar saw them, he recoiled and gave a little snarl.
“I know,” I sighed. “It’s not pretty. But it was either that or let me die, so I guess I can’t blame Kitty too much…”
Parthar huffed, as if he wasn’t so sure.
With a grunt, I sat up and took stock of my surroundings.
I was still at the center of the circle of stones, but the pale light of a cloudy dawn had replaced the night.
My legs were buried calf-deep, but the ground that had seemed like quicksand last night had become normal turf.
After some digging and cursing, I got my legs free and stood.
From my new vantage point, I could see that the ground around me had been scorched in a wide arc.
The only signs of my attackers were the patches of green grass the fire had not burned—where I guessed they had been standing when Parthar attacked.
What had they been? Zombies? Ghosts? Wisps. That was a name I’d heard used before.
Whatever they were, they’d almost gotten me…
I turned and saw that Parthar had retreated from me a few yards. He now watched me warily, his tail wrapped around himself protectively.
“You saved me, didn’t you? With your fire?” I asked.
He blinked.
“Thank you,” I said.
He just kept looking at me. He was a formidable beast now, but he still had those huge, baby-dragon eyes. And he looked… sad.
I sighed. “Listen. Before. When I left you… I had no choice. Okay? I wasn’t really who I was pretending to be, and I had to go home. Ironberg isn’t exactly the best place to raise a baby dragon. Hell, my officer’s apartment doesn’t even allow dogs. Okay? You understand?”
He just looked at me with those damned big eyes.
This was no good. If I had simnal, I could make him understand.
But the simnal was gone, just like my humanity.
And Essa. And my career as an ace. I was a vampyre now.
And an exile. If I’d been a piss-poor candidate to be a dragon daddy before, I was even less fit for the task now.
With a grunt of frustration, I cast around for my things.
My oilskin flight bag, service rifle, and saber were all on the ground nearby, and I gathered them up.
As I did, I saw something else glinting in one of the patches of undisturbed grass.
A dagger. I picked it up and examined it.
It was ancient, judging from the patina of dust on it.
But it was beautifully made, with a dark blue stone in its cross guard and another in its pommel, and a grip made of some sort of bone or antler.
Already, my conflict with the wisps seemed like a strange nightmare.
But the dagger made it seem real—that and the wounds on my body.
I had many cuts and bruises—but none of them were as bad as they’d seemed during the attack, as if those shades had the strength to terrify me, but not to harm me—much.
Absently, I stuck the dagger in my belt and turned back to Parthar.
The blood hunger was getting worse now. I felt it with each beat of my heart, pounding like a drumbeat in my head.
“Well… thanks again,” I said. “Good luck, kid.”
I turned and started walking. But I’d only gone a few steps before I heard Parthar’s big feet plodding along behind me. I turned back. Parthar cocked his head, watching me hopefully.
“Listen,” I said. “I know I took care of you when you were young. And I know we bonded or whatever. But I’m not the same as I was, okay?
Something happened to me. Even right now, all I can think about is blood.
That’s what being a vampyre is, apparently.
Blood, blood, blood. But I’ll be damned if I drink the blood of a person.
So instead, I have this terrible… like… headache.
You understand? And I can barely concentrate on getting to Essa, much less think about taking care of a little dragon—or a medium-sized one or whatever.
Does that make sense? I’d be no good for you.
You’d be way better off without me. It seems like you’ve done fine so far, right? ”
He just looked at me. I couldn’t tell if I was getting through or not. With yet another sigh, I turned to go.
But I heard a sound behind me, a small whimper.
I wheeled back around to find Parthar had the end of his tail in his mouth and was biting down on it.
When he took it out, the place where he’d bitten was glistening with blood.
He extended it toward me, an offering, a look of incredible vulnerability in those huge, expressive orange eyes.
I felt my own eyes fill with tears in spite of myself.
“Dammit,” I said, my voice thick with sudden emotion. “I’m not drinking your blood. Come here.”
I swept him into a hug, my arms around his serpentine neck, his head resting on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m—” I tried to say it again, but a sob choked off the words. I squeezed him tighter, and he pressed himself against me harder.
I grunted, trying to staunch the wave of emotion that had come over me. “Ugh. God dammit. I don’t deserve you, you know that?”
I pulled back to look at him. We might not have the simnal anymore, but the look of eager hopefulness on his face was unmistakable. I sniffed.
“Alright, you can come with me. Alright? I won’t leave you again. I promise.”