Meagan Hatfield - Shadow Of The Vampire

Caught up in the insane urge to protect her, Declan barely registered the vampire’s monotone words. Then they hit him, each one like a blow to the chest. His brow tightened. The air he breathed dragged like sludge in his lungs.

The Queen. Daughter.

Disgusted, he released her. The chains rippled to the floor, clanking in a pile at his feet.

The instant his grip on her slackened, the iron cell wall creaked. Declan looked up, muttering a silent curse when he realized Lotharus’s full attention was fixed on moving the wall with his mind force. The metal twisted and bowed beneath unseen hands. A second later it sprung free of its frame and jettisoned toward them.

Without a second thought, Declan grabbed the female by the shoulders, tossing her out of the way. He barely saw her fall safely to her knees before the heavy iron crashed into him. The blow picked him up off his feet, slamming him three feet back and into the wall like nothing more than a rag doll. Stones crumbled and a cloud of dust plumed around him from the hole his back dented into the wall. His body ached and pinpricks of pain shot out in all directions. But strength flowed in his replenished veins, taking over any hurt he may have felt. With a heaving grunt, he pitched the heavy iron aside. In one fluid move, he stood alert, braced for whatever else was coming at him.

The vampire smiled approvingly. Bringing his hands up, he began clapping his palms together in hard, methodic slaps. Declan frowned. What the hell was wrong with this freak? He could have killed the girl had Declan not pushed her out of the way. Yet he looked as if he couldn’t have been more pleased.

“Well done, dragon lord. ” He ceased clapping, resting his index finger on his lips. Declan’s eyes flashed on the wide-set ruby stone eating up the width to his knuckle. “That is what my little test proved you to be, correct?” When Declan didn’t answer, the vampire ran his gaze up and down his body. “Strange, but it seems you are completely healed. Let’s see what we can do about that, hmm? Seize him.”

The three guards did not move. Declan smiled and beckoned them to come inside. At the taunt, the first soldier scowled and ran forward. Declan pulled back his arm, landing a stiff jab on the vampire’s nose. He fell to his back. The other two stepped over him, bearing down on Declan. He took one step toward them. His heavy footfall shook the earth with force no human could muster. At the sound, the soldiers looked down. Declan wiggled the toes of his black, clawed foot. When their gazes flew back up, Declan held up his fist, the one that had felled the guard, revealing a swollen club of black scales and talons.

“He’s changing!” The guard in front skidded to a halt, but he was too late to escape. With his strength renewed, Declan transformed to his true state with blinding quickness. Shiny black scales rolled over his flesh. Talons pierced the tips of his fingers and toes and his nose elongated into a horny muzzle of encrusted armor. Dropping to all fours, he let out an earthshaking roar.

Lips curled back, baring his teeth, he stalked his prey like a lion. With a mental cue, he fired up his now healthy and recharged dragonfire glands. Heat billowed inside him. Tendrils of smoke curled out of his nostrils. All he had to do was barbecue this joint and he’d be gone. Without knowing why, he paused, his eyes searching for the female.

Seeing she was safe against the back wall, he turned back to the guards. Opening his jowls, he blasted a torrent of flame on the felled soldier, consuming him in the firestorm. The other two covered their faces with their arms and backed away. Keeping the fire torching, he started swinging his hip, banging the stones with the clubbed end of his tail. Rocks skated down the wall, peppering the floor. The salty sea air teased his nose. He was getting closer. Each blow of his tail brought him another inch to freedom.

Something hit Declan in the chest with the force of a jackhammer. He tipped his head back and roared as agonizing pain speared through him. Another invisible fist jabbed his gut. This time he heard the gunfire. Knew the following blast of pain was another bullet entering his body, followed by another.

Declan shifted back with the force of each slug. The silver bullets spread through him like mercury, melting his insides. The flames in his throat died as the fire within consumed him. He fell forward, bracing himself on his hands and knees. His arms shook, the muscles barely able to support his weight. Like withering vines, his scales curled back, leaving rivers of bloodied flesh in their wake. His mouth opened in a scream, but nothing came out.

The gun skated across the debris-coated floor, followed by the empty magazine. He heard what sounded like handcuffs being unchained from the smoking remains of the fallen guard. Then boots scuffled to a stop by his head. A dark shadow cast over him.

Gasping, Declan moved his knee, trying to stand. A heavy foot stepped square between his shoulder blades.

“Nuh-uh-uh,” the vampire said, stepping down hard. At the pressure, Declan’s arms buckled. He fell face-first into the floor, the foot keeping him there. Hands reached down, sliding something around his head. Declan offered no resistance as the vampire snapped a thick metal collar around his very human, very weak, neck.

“There’s a good boy,” Lotharus said, patting his head like a dog’s and lifting his foot.

Instantly, the cold metal heated. The skin around his neck tingled in an icy burn. Panicked, Declan’s fingers clawed at the device as the flesh beneath the apparatus sizzled. The scent of burnt flesh filled his nose. He recognized the reaction immediately.

Silver.

Declan’s back arched as he fought to wrench the band free. Nostrils flaring, he gasped for breath as the collar sucked even the will to breathe from his labored body.

“It burns, does it not?” The vampire’s deep voice cut through the pain-induced fog. “Can you feel your strength ebb? I must admit, it is one of Alexia’s more ingenious designs.”

Alexia? Declan’s eyes flashed to that female he had fed from. The one he could still taste on his tongue, feel on his lips—the one his body still wanted to ravish. She created this? But of course, she would. Her mother would surely expect no less of her. Well, neither would he.

Narrowing his eyes, he vowed the next time he had her beneath him, she would feel only the pain of his bite as he bled her dry.

LOTHARUS WATCHED THE DRAGON stare at Alexia.

Such hatred in those eyes.

He turned his head to the side, trying to figure out why. Although that dragon lord was now weakened by the collar and clip of silver bullets lodged in his abdomen, he’d somehow regained his strength between the time he was captured and when Lotharus came to check on him. Somehow, in that little bit of time, he had recovered enough strength to use the fiercest and most devastating weapon any dragon owned— dragonfire. But how?

Lotharus’s gaze slid to Alexia. Her leather-clad body was flat against the wall. Crimson streaks and dirt stained her usually pristine blond hair. Under his perusal, her shoulders jumped and her eyes slid to the floor.

Ah, so his future stepdaughter had something to do with it.

Eyes narrowing, Lotharus reached her in two seconds. Curling his fingers around the soft skin of her biceps, he hauled her to him. The tips of those hooker boots she wore, only because he hated them, barely skimmed the floor as he held her up. Instantly, the fear he worked so hard to instill in her fired up her onyx eyes. Lotharus smiled, relishing every minute of it. Like a drug, taking her innocence, her trust, her joy was never enough. He always wanted more.

“Would you know how this dragon came to be fully healed, Alexia?”