Fire of Stars and Dragons (11 page)

“Then your efforts have failed.”

“What efforts?” I ask rather rhetorically, throwing my hands up in frustration. “Am I to believe it is right of me to interfere with her destiny, to affect her in such a way out of my own desires… and my own confusion?”

“What if her path is unclear to you because you cannot make the decision required to keep her on it? Perhaps it is your part which blurs the vision.” Oliver offers his perspective with a calm wisdom as always, yet with no experience in this particular matter to guide him.

“I hold hope Claaron may shed light on the issue.” Ignoring his mild sneer, I move closer to my brother, dropping my voice. “The only thing I see clearly is Cait happy, loved, and in love. I want nothing less for her, Oliver.”

“And you need to know if Rainelm felt that with Claaron.” He states his understanding of my expectations, with a stiff edge in his tone when speaking our brother’s name. “If he provides you with the answer you need, will you pursue her?”

Unwavering, I meet his eyes. “The Goddess herself could not stop me.”

*Corrin*

Even on a Thursday night the last week of October, the Quincy Market, Faneuil Hall area of touristy shops and restaurants are booming with business. A crowd gathers at the sight of the caravan carrying my entourage this evening, and the second we step out of the limo, Cait and I meet with camera flashes and a few exuberant citizens screaming out to us.

“Do you mind?” I ask with polite civility, quite positive this is part of what must make her dislike me: the public persona, gratifying the people’s need for my attention. “I do try assuaging them with a few autographs and photo ops.”

She glances to Theo, who looks far less than pleased with any of this. “Alright. Go ahead if you must, Corrin.” Her voice is soft, I might venture a guess to say saddened, though she continues to behave and appear as if nothing is wrong. Without a doubt, she learned well raised by a vampire of status such as Sir Greyson.

“Do not be silly, Cait. I want you at my side. The people of my kingdom wish to meet the first woman I have taken public since my coronation.” Adding a charming smile to win her over, I lead her toward a group of enthusiastic gatherers.

Cait endears my people with natural ease and graciousness, signing a few requested autographs, posing for photographs with me, even reaching out and shaking hands with several people, an interaction I refuse, preferring to choose who touches me.

We’re about to go inside, and one last woman calls out to us. “King Corrin, could we get a picture of you giving her a kiss, please?”

A kiss. The vampire king who never settles with one woman kissing the lovely human heiress, making a royal couple fit for the media machine to churn up into quite a frenzy. Anyone stepping in the way of King Corrin and the people’s future Queen Cait would become the target of public outrage.

I look to Cait, finding she’s wide-eyed, though schooling her expression in a reasonable pretense of not reacting to the request. Either she cannot believe someone asked, or cannot believe I’m asking her to do it. But I
need
her to. I want her to. I cannot allow her to choose one of the others. Everything revolves around her decision. My very existence hinges upon it.

Her eyes plead with me, saying,
no, walk away
. Instead, I gather my resolve.

“Cait, I
can
love you.”

Before she responds, I press my lips to hers, a tender effort, the smallest gesture, a desperate show of my need for her, of my willingness to give her what she needs, too, and every word she wants to hear but that I do not know how to say.

The words themselves come out quiet, though I know she heard them, as her expression told she missed nothing. None of the humans gathered could have heard, but they cheer with great exuberance, snapping pictures, and clapping until I release Cait’s lips from mine.

Her heart races, and I turn waving to the crowd when Theo appears in front of me, his back to us. “That is enough. The king and Miss Hayden would like to enjoy the rest of their evening in peace.” He turns, glaring a dark warning, lips curled in a silent snarl, shoving me forward as he directs Cait with gentle care to the door. I do not fail noticing the meeting of their eyes, the unspoken exchange between them, though it confounds me what she could mean to a dragon. They know nothing of the way a woman yearns for love.

Oliver comes to my side, taking hold of me as if guiding me in a matter of security yet far harsher. “I am so very glad you had the good sense to offer some welcoming preamble first,” he growls out low. “Had you kissed her without such, I daresay the news playing across the world tonight would be of two dragons fighting to the death in downtown Boston and the bloody end of the king.”

Entering The Black Rose, we approach the host. “Good evening. Sir Oliver Pendragon.” My dragon introduces himself out of formal habit despite the entire sovereignty, nay, the world recognizing the distinguished Captain of the King’s Guard. “I called ahead on behalf of His Royal Majesty.”

Pulling my arm away from Oliver’s grasp, I reach to take Cait’s hand, thankful she responds in kind, although more hesitant than I would like, slow in moving away from Theo with a glance back to him before joining me.

Having come into the establishment several times with my brother, even since crowned king, I know the man rather well. “Danny, how’ve you been?” I ask, keen on a casual introduction, putting Cait at ease with me once again. “I’d like you to meet the lovely Cait Hayden.”

Danny pats me on the arm. “Doing good. How’s the high life of king treatin’ ya?” Working at The Black Rose well over six decades, he remembers a time predating my past fifty-three years on the throne, before everyone here knew I was a vampire, a secret held close for my own protection. “Ah, see ya found a beauty finally, one who’ll stick around and put up wit’ ya.”

He reaches over, kissing her on the cheek, and I’m prepared to stop him, expecting Theo to take the good man’s head off, but Theo doesn’t make a move, and Cait kisses Danny’s cheek as well, sweet and endearing, just as she was outside. “Clearly, you don’t know me if you think I’m the one putting up with him, and it’s not the other way around, but I appreciate the kind words.” She’s playful and teasing, though I’m well aware how she dislikes me; and yet her public sensibilities and decorum indicate nothing amiss in outward appearance.

“Ah, a sassy Irish lass to keep the king in his place,” the older man quips, leading us through the lower level dining area rather than to the upstairs pub, toward a reserved booth in the back corner with an excellent view of the night’s live band. “Well, it’s ‘bout time he had a good woman.… Here ya go, saved ya best seats in the house. Guinness for the king?” I nod. Danny knows my vice in the realm of human food and drink. “And for the lovely Cait?”

“I’ll have the same.”

“A woman after my own heart, she is. We’ll get those out and give ya a chance to look o’er the menu.”

Seated together in the booth, we are let alone to dine, though Oliver and Theo remain less than ten feet away, Theo demanding to stand nearest us. I know we could have sat opposite one another, but I couldn’t bear to loosen the grip I held on her hand, and as she slid into the booth, I slipped in beside her. It feels natural to be near her, to touch her.

And I find this notion terrifying.

“So, tell me why you picked this place, of all the Irish pubs in Boston.” A genuine smile speaks to a genuine desire to know. Cait has a natural curiosity, quite refreshing after decades surrounded by women wanting from me: favors, gifts,
things
. Always wanting. Surprising me, she is willing to give, though on her own terms.

“It’s the energy. I’ve been to them all, and I’ve always liked this one best. I know people say it’s too touristy and such, but I love the energy of The Black Rose, the live music every night, and the Guinness, of course.” Cait’s the first person outside of my family or the Pendragons I’ve felt at ease talking to this way, that I’ve believed capable of such trust. Nothing she has done shows she feels there is anything to gain from becoming close to me. It is I who gains most from her nearness.

We thank the waitress bringing our drinks, and Cait says she hasn’t decided what to order yet. The silence falling between us leaves me uncomfortable, requiring me to continue speaking, and I answer the question she asked. “Before everyone knew about us, about vampires and the rest, I could come here and fit in. No one questioned my odd accent, though it’s such an archaic one, not the familiar modern Irish. People here overlooked it, didn’t bother me with questions, offering up a pint and a good laugh when I’d sit up at the bar. I’d sometimes find others who spoke fluent Irish to converse with. Older patrons.… Of course, little did they know how comparatively young they were.”

I laugh, and she joins me. She’s willing to listen and not ask me a thousand questions, not make demands of me, or have expectations. “This is my favorite place to come with my brother as well. I think that’s why I thought of it when considering where to bring you tonight,” I admit. “In some ways, you remind me of Evan, though you’re not one to mince words, and he’s often far too careful of what he says, but you have a deep compassion for others, like my brother… I believe even more than for yourself.” Few humans would offer themselves for a vampire to feed upon without expectations of their own, not even giving in to our seduction.

Turning, I meet her eyes, holding steady, wanting the safety of the harsh distances I hold so much easier. “It’s one of the many traits I dearly love in my brother, and one I know I can love in you, Cait.”

She shakes her head and laughs a little. “Then I didn’t just imagine the ice-hearted king grew a little soft and said that outside?”

“No.” Fearful of what her comment might mean, I try explaining. “What you did this morning, Cait… before I changed my mind. I had decided not to involve myself in this matter, allowing Dante or Theo to have you if they wished.” Cait leans back from me, looking away. “But after this morning, I realized what I would have lost in doing so. I have every intention of pursuing your affections to the fullest, Cait.”

“You would have died. That’s what you would have lost, Corrin.” Her voice is a mere whisper, her face still turned from me. “I’m not yours, never was, and you’re so far behind in this that I never will be.”

Hearing the faint sound of glass cracking, I pull my hand off the pint of Guinness on the table. “I am your king, Cait, and you will not be so rude as to refuse my advances when I pursue your interest out of…” My jaw clenches, not wanting to speak the words aloud, to admit to courting her as Evan deems proper, but there seems no other way. “… out of my own genuine affection for you. I grow quite fond of you, Cait, and that holds a great deal of value.”

She faces me and laughs rather sardonically. “In this situation, you aren’t my king, Corrin. You’re just a man like any other, and all the affection and fondness you can muster has no value to me if I feel nothing more than compassionate pity for you in return.”

Infuriated, I let my fangs drop and grab her by the throat, slamming her into the wall of the booth.

*Theo*

He hears my instinctive growl first, and though he’s quick to let go, it’s too late. The damage is done, in my opinion, and vampires are not nearly as fast as dragons. Corrin moves to escape the booth, but I have his arm in my grasp. Turning on me, fangs down, he goes on the defensive, preparing to attack.

“Corrin, don’t be foolhardy, boy,” Oliver yells behind me, grabbing at my shoulder, attempting to pull me away, barely causing me to waver in my stance.

With diners already gawking at the king’s presence, this turn of events does not go unnoticed, and people flee the restaurant in a hurry, thank the Goddess. I’m controlling the shift as best I can, but the faint scent of Cait’s blood in the air fuels an urgent need to let go, to free myself of human restraints into my natural dragon form. He tries to run, finding a partially shifted dragon digging talons into his arm, and I can wait no longer, the burning intensifying beyond control.

The vampire’s eyes widen in shock when I let the rush of the burn take over, all human characteristics dissipating, talons gripping him still. The king dangles a good twenty feet off the ground, surrounded by the screaming of a few patrons not yet out, the building filling with fully shifted dragons. Oliver followed suit upon seeing my change, Liam and Clifford quick to defend the king as well. Furniture falls to kindling and toothpicks, scrap metal and rubbish underneath us.

“Theo, hand him over. I will see to it he stays away from her.”
He reaches an arm toward the troublesome boy.

I growl, letting out a hiss of small flame, a warning, and whip my long spiked tail to coil around Corrin, freeing my talons for a fight, if necessary, not at all careful when I slap my tail down, slamming him onto the floor, ignoring his pained moans. He’ll have no pity from me.
“He will never learn. I told you, brother.”

Shifting their stances, I know both Liam and Clifford are prepared to attack, but I bide my time, watching Cait’s movements out of the corner of my eye. She’s injured, seemingly disoriented, but should be alright. I’m sure of it when I see her touch the ring she wears.

“Corrin is not your ward. Allow me to judge his soul.”
Oliver steps toward me, horned head scraping against the ceiling in the crowded space, wings held close to his body.

There’s a crackle and the flash of lightning I waited for, and Dante appears beside the booth where Cait is. He wastes no time taking her into his arms, looking to me, eyes blazing, every light in the room glowing brilliantly before exploding, and in another flash, they’re both gone.

“Catch him if you can, brother.”
With a deep roar I spread my wings and twist, using my hind legs to smash through the front wall of the building before careening out, dragging a rather angry vampire along by my tail, then take to the darkening sky.