The Witch's Dragon

  The Witch’s Dragon

  Melania tolan

  Copyright © 2019 by Melania Tolan

  Editor: Jenn McDonnell

  Cover Artist: Andrew Dobell www.creativeedgestudios.co.uk

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  To Morning Word Warriors

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Melania tolan

  Chapter 1

  I woke up drenched in sweat. My white T-shirt clung to my body, stained with different shades of pink—thanks to my undead pores that perspired a little blood mixed with my sweat. Just one of the many side effects of being a strigoi, a Romanian vampire.

  “Gah.” I gasped as I felt the silver knife pierce repeatedly between my ribs, but it wasn’t happening to me.

  This occurred often lately, ever since Padrick helped me escape from Northern Africa and Traian had gotten caught again. I’d been in hiding with the elf, but multiple times through the night and even through the day when I slept, I’d wake up feeling the pain of his torture.

  Traian had sacrificed himself so I could escape, but because we had exchanged large amounts of blood, it bonded us, and I could feel everything he experienced, even though there were thousands of miles between us.

  The shitty part about all this was his torturer happened to be my father. He hoped he could get me out of hiding by tormenting the man I loved. Although I had discovered a few weeks before that Octavian was my father, I still believed he was a monster. I didn’t care if DNA bonded us. He never once cared for me when I was a human girl living at home. He never supported my mother. The longer my life stretched as an undead, the stranger it became.

  The woman who raised me and who I had called ‘Mom’, turned out to be my sister, but she would always be my mom. She’d taken care of me as one of her own. Grandmother Grace, the woman who died the day I was born, was my real mother. It was all still confusing, and I kept trying to figure out why and how this had all happened—why I had been lied to my entire life.

  Padrick, my elf friend, knew, but he hadn’t said a single thing… even though he had been there when Eva, the gypsy witch, conspired the whole plot. My entire life had been dictated by someone I’m supposedly connected to but never met. Eva had known my mother and Padrick. Traian had also known the gypsy witch and had carried a torch for her until I showed up nearly twenty years after her death. He also had withheld vital information until it had been too late. Had he told me the truth about himself, I might still be living in Seattle with a beating heart.

  The entire nineteen years of my human life, I’d had a multitude of health problems, only to realize that I had magical powers too. Everything ended when I took out a whole city block with a blast of electricity from my hand. I’d died shortly thereafter, but Traian brought me back. He had saved me. My powers should have died with my humanity, but they didn’t.

  No one with special capabilities could keep them once they transitioned to an undead creature. Sure, you get extra strength, keen senses, and can grow your power over time, but magic was supposed to die with your human body.

  Except me.

  Even in death, I was still a freak. I had somehow kept all the powers I’d had before my transition—which shouldn’t be possible—so along with the standard increased strength and keener senses I had the ability to manipulate fire and electricity. Unfortunately, I hadn’t learned to control them yet, but I was getting better. The potions from Satra and the crystals from Padrick helped, however I needed to learn to control these powers on my own, in case I found myself in a situation where I didn’t have access to those magic tools.

  Padrick had me hidden in an ancient underwater Atlantean fortress in the Black Sea. The elf had been watching over me since the day I was born, and I regarded him as a brother and a kind of guardian. Sort of. I didn’t know. Most of the time I wanted to slap the shit out of him, but then I’d remember all he’d sacrificed to keep me alive when I was a sickly human and wanted to hug him. His insufferable arrogance kept me from throwing my arms around him though.

  However, I needed him in my life, because how else would I figure out my powers?

  I am a strigoi and a witch.

  The combination also wasn’t supposed to be possible, but I had proved otherwise. This much power had threatened my dad, which was why he wanted me under his control.

  I should stop calling him my ‘dad’. Just because he passed his DNA onto me does not make him so.

  Come to think of it, I never had a father. Stella, my sister… I mean niece… had a father. He tried to adopt me, but then he ran away when the first round of serious medical issues started as a toddler.

  No wonder she hated me. I’d ruined her happy little life when I came into this world. Her hurtful words at my funeral still echoed in the back of my mind. I wanted to make it right, but didn’t know how.

  A wave of sadness washed over me. I missed my family. It had been three months since I’d been home… since I’d died and gone to my funeral. This was the longest I’d ever gone without seeing my mom and sister—I mean sister and niece. But the person I missed the most was Mindy, my best friend.

  She’d always been there for me to help me solve problems. She helped me get into Community College and then University of Washington, and finally find a job. And now I was thousands and thousands of miles away from her on the other side of the planet. What I wouldn’t give just to hang out in my cozy living room sipping a cup of tea, or go to Taco Tuesday with her.

  But none of that mattered right now. I couldn’t do anything to help Mindy except send my gypsy allies to watch over her and my family. It would only be a matter of time before Octavian found them too.

  The only thing I could do now was figure out how to get Traian away from Octavian before it was too late. Although, I didn’t think he would kill him. Traian was my maker. If he died during the seven-year fledgling stage of my existence, I would die too. After my display of power when I escaped, and the little episode in Seattle, I doubted Octavian would want that.

  I lay down to sleep, but then realized my shirt was still wet. I peeled it off and tossed the sweat-drenched top into a tub of special cleaning potion with the other shirts. This method was the only way I could get the bloodstains out of the fabric. Kind of hard to find bleach and soap, stuck in these ancient ruins that nobody knew existed.

  I slipped into a cotton tunic, a pair of leggings, and some wool socks, then curled up on the cot. I laid on my side, with my hand touching the small amount of earth Padrick had spread along the edge of the bed.

  Apparently, the old rule said for seven years a new strigoi needed to sleep in their coffin surrounded with the earth from the cemetery where they had been buried. Once they achieved
the seven-year mark, they could continue their existence as a living strigoi. They got the best of both worlds. They could eat, go out in the sun, and blend in with humans, doing all the human activities, but also maintain their immortality without having to depend on too much blood.

  I hadn’t reached that point, obviously, since only three months had passed, however, I didn’t sleep in my coffin because Octavian still had it in his fortress in North Africa.

  Padrick had saved a handful of earth from the cemetery in Seattle where I had been buried, and just to be safe, had spread it on the cot where I slept. It seemed to work. My body hadn’t disintegrated yet, and I hadn’t felt weak, except for the times when I felt Traian’s pain through our bond.

  I breathed through the current bout of discomfort until it subsided, grateful that Padrick hadn’t come running into my room to check on me. I didn’t need to breathe for oxygen, but the distraction of the smells and tastes of the underground environment helped keep me calm.

  I closed my eyes and suddenly I wasn’t in the underwater cave off the coast of the Black Sea, but in a different cavern—one in a place far from here.

  I’d been here before, in other dreams. They’d started the first night we arrived at our hideout.

  This cave was located somewhere in the Alps. I couldn’t tell if it was Switzerland or France or Germany. The only detail from my dream surroundings I saw was the amazing mountain sheep. They had impressive long horns that stuck straight out from their heads. Each time, I would catch a glimpse of them before I would get pulled inside the mountain, into a cave where at the center, bones lay around a silver sphere.

  Each time, the sphere glowed as I approached. This time, it shimmered like usual, and I heard the familiar hiss.

  “Everly, come find me. Chosen One, I wait for thee.”

  And then I was back in the damp cavern under the sea. Padrick stood over me with a cup of warm blood.

  “You’ve had another vision.” His green eyes flickered in the dark room.

  I nodded as the burn in my throat flared, and I sat up, taking the cup from him.

  “Did you see anything different?” he asked. “Besides the sheep, that is.”

  “No.” I ran a hand through my salt-crusted hair. I could really use a shower.

  “Try to look for something specific. Those bloody sheep could be in any of the countries that share the Alps.”

  “I’m trying.” I gritted my teeth.

  A warm hand rested on my shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry for pushing you. But the sooner you find the dragon egg, the sooner we can get your lover to safety.”

  I closed my eyes as another knife sliced through my groin into my ballsack.

  I don’t have a ballsack, I reminded myself. It sure felt like I did though. “Aggghhhhh.”

  The cup slipped from my hand. Padrick caught the mug and took it away from me.

  “Why don’t you let me sever the blood bond?” he suggested. “You will be of no use in saving Traian if you haven’t rested and recharged yourself.”

  I gave him the middle finger. “Jesus, they’re stabbing his testicles.” My eyes flew open.

  The elf shuddered and grunted. “You really need to let me…”

  He didn’t finish his sentence, because I slapped him, sending him into the wall to the left of my cot. The cup shattered, blood splattering everywhere. I felt sorry for the wasted nourishment, although I would have preferred a good hunt.

  I glared at Padrick. “If you ever again offer to sever the only connection I have with the man I love, I will rip your pretty goddamn head right off. Got it?”

  “Loud and clear.” He stood and rubbed the red mark on his right cheek.

  My palms covered my eyes, my fingers clawing at the edges of my hairline. Why did I have to be so volatile?

  “Sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to react so badly.”

  Padrick held a hand up. “It’s all right, I don’t break easily. At least your aim is getting better. But we need to keep training.”

  “I don’t feel like sparring right now.” I looked down at my hand, feeling shame.

  “I didn’t mean right now. Take a breath, and I will go get you more blood.” He left the room.

  I needed to get a hold of myself. My heart hurt—this time from my terrible behavior. I hated how I overreacted more and more each day. It wasn’t Padrick that bothered me… It was that I couldn’t be with Traian. The longer I was away from him, the harder it was for me to control my emotions. He’d always been my rock—the person I could depend on when shit hit the fan.

  Padrick came back a few moments later with another cup of blood. While I drank my meal, he cleaned up the mess I had made. I offered to help, but he refused. When I finished the last drop, he took the cup from me.

  “You need to get more sleep,” he decided. And then he left.

  I curled into a ball on my cot, pulling the blanket over my shoulders and burrowing down into the musty mattress. Only one thing could get me out of this melancholy mood—a visit with Traian.

  I closed my eyes like I’d done countless times and focused on the silver cord, the one that bound me to him. I pulled on the rope hand over hand, and it drew my spirit from my body toward my love. Each time, the process got harder. It became more difficult to reach him as the blood we had exchanged slowly diminished from our bodies—mostly his, as he was being drained.

  Regardless, I felt him.

  After pulling on the cord a few more times, I reached the dungeon thousands of miles away in the deserts of North Africa, where he lay tied to a silver-lined table, bleeding to death. He was unconscious and unaware of my presence. Just as I had felt earlier, long, thin blades stuck out of his groin and testicles, nearly severing his manly bits. I noted the ashen color of his skin and how his ribs protruded from his chest, reminding me of an emaciated person in a third-world country.

  Octavian is starving him to death, I realized. “My darling,” I whispered near his ear. “Please hold on. Don’t give up. I can’t lose you too.”

  Traian let out a soft groan. That was all. He lay there, still as a corpse.

  I released the silver cord, and my spirit snapped back into my body. Instead of giving into the tears and desperation, I felt a new resolve solidify in my heart. I needed to find this goddamn dragon egg, and soon, or the love of my life would die, and I would follow him not far behind.

  Chapter 2

  Padrick finally let me use a computer. After months of being cut off from all technology—partially because of my uncontrolled, electrical powers—he finally let me search the Internet to look for clues and pictures of the Alps where I believed the dragon egg lay hidden.

  I squashed the urge to search for my sister’s social media accounts. Or rather, my niece, Stella. Although, who knows what kind of crap she may have put out about me.

  I longed to see a familiar face. I would have looked for Mindy’s stuff, but she didn’t believe in social media. Besides the online classes my best friend took for her herbologist certificate, she pretty much stayed off the computer. Like my mom, I mean sister… whatever… she had never been one for technology.

  I scanned thousands of pictures of mountains. So many ranges of the Alps traversed central Europe. After a while, they all looked the same. Every single one had snow with jagged peaks and they even seemed to be under the same patch of sky. But then I narrowed my search to include the longhorn sheep.

  In my mind’s eye, I tried to recall the last ram I had seen in a vision. His horns were about two or three feet long, and on each were rings. These rings, however, looked much different from the ones I saw in the photos on my screen. The ones pictured were brown, but the rings in my vision had a thin band of gold. And then I remembered the sheep’s eyes… they were golden too.

  “Padrick?” I turned around in my seat toward him.

  He had his back turned but grunted in acknowledgment.

  “Do you think the sheep in the Alps might have some magical attributes?
” I asked.

  Padrick slowly turned to face me, his green eyes wide. “Why would you say such a thing?”

  I pointed to the screen. “The ram I dreamed about had golden rings around his horns, these don’t. He also had golden, intelligent eyes. Do you think he was a shapeshifter? A vârcolac?”

  Padrick shook his head. “Not vârcolac. They are only predators found among the Romani Clan. Although…” His voice trailed off into the silence of thought.

  I waited a few moments to let him continue before pressing him. “Although what?”

  He met my gaze. “I’ve heard recent rumors of other clans of shapeshifters in various parts of the world. I didn’t have time to research, as I’ve spent the last twenty years trying to keep you alive, and the twenty-five before that keeping Eva safe.”

  “You watched over Eva too?” I asked, taken aback. Why am I surprised?

  “I’m the one who helped call her spirit to this side of the world.”

  “You and Traian, right?” I shifted in my seat, the creaky metal groaning under my weight.

  “Yes. He was bonded to Evelina, and I needed his blood.”

  Padrick’s tone might have been calm, but the subtle twitch in the muscles of his neck told me he didn’t like to talk about the subject.

  “Did Eva know she had Evelina’s spirit in her?”

  He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Yes, she figured it out once the dreams and visions of Evelina’s memories started.”

  I’d had dreams and visions from both Eva and Evelina’s lives. They always left me feeling a little unsettled because each time, I felt like I was in someone else’s body, except I could still think for myself, however my voice sounded different, and I couldn’t control them. Sometimes our thoughts would meld into one, and I couldn’t tell who was Eva, Evelina, or me. I still didn’t understand why I had been chosen to carry their spirits.