Page 13 of Avelina

Fear and hope coursed through me in equal measure, followed by confusion, loneliness, resentment, and a dozen other emotions I could barely identify. They were like my feelings, but more insistent than anything I’d ever felt and so fierce that they threatened to sear the inside of my skull. My vision swam, and I sucked in a breath, then released a pathetic whimper.

Aaron jerked his hand away, and the feeling abruptly vanished. He stared at me, his ice-blue eyes so wide that the color absorbed my whole attention as I stared back, panting as if I had just run a race. He leaned back cautiously, his face reflecting what I knew but didn’t want to believe. Those feelings weren’t mine. They were his. Something inside me had latched onto him and rushed in. I had connected to him and felt his emotions, and what I found was mostly pain.

I blinked away a tear, swallowing hard. His eyes searched mine, though I couldn’t guess what he looked for. I knew he was afraid of something out there, but the bulk of his torment was old. He was a man who had endured something terrible, had stayed the course, and now felt a hesitant hope which balanced precariously atop years and years of grief.

“So much grief,” I whispered before I could stop myself. His blue eyes glistened for a moment then went flat. “I’m sorry,” I said and averted my eyes. I didn’t know what I apologized for, but it felt crucial. Embarrassed, I pulled away from him, and he let me.

Rogue whined, but he wasn’t paying attention to us. I glanced back at Aaron for direction. His gaze dropped to my mouth, then quickly away. He stretched to see through the grass, but whatever he’d seen must have vanished because he stood, silently scanning the clearing.

“Come on, we’re almost there,” he said. “We need to hurry before the fog completely blocks our ability to see him.”

“See who?” I asked.

Aaron walked past where I still lay on the ground, hesitated, then backtracked to stand above me. “The dragon,” he said. Then, warily, he held his hand out to me. Heat still radiated from him, but it was more subdued than before.

I considered his hand for a moment, indecisive, then shuddered and sat up without his help. I hugged myself across my stomach to steady my nerves. I wanted to be brave, but I just wasn’t. It was all too much. I was lost and at the mercy of a stranger. I had no choice but to follow him, but I didn’t know where we were going. For all I knew, he could be leading me to his murder cabin, where Kathy Bates waited to break my ankles. I was feeling some kind of weird super-empathy crap. God only knew what the hell that was. And now, dragons.

My throat tightened. I squeezed my eyes shut. I shouldn’t let this guy see me cry.

Rogue pressed himself against my shoulder, and I opened my eyes to see him scrutinizing me like a worried older brother. My vision was blurry, but no tears fell as I reached up to scratch the back of his neck. I steadied my breath.

You can do this. At least there’s no cockroaches.

I ground my teeth and took Aaron’s hand. There was no rush of feeling this time. Instead, I got only the impression of confusion with something buried beneath that. Distrust, for sure. Very loud distrust. And shame, maybe?

Huh.

He nodded. “Maybe you won’t be completely useless,” he said and turned away again.

Wow, this guy really is a dick.

I huffed out another breath and followed him. Rogue trotted closely next to me, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth and his tail wagging, as happy as a kid on Christmas. I scowled down at him.

“What are you so freaking happy about?” I asked.

I swear, he made a sound like, “Ri ron’t row.” Despite everything, it made me laugh. My Roogy-Roo. At least I had him.

Aaron turned his head back to glance at Rogue. His blue eyes crinkled a little at the corners.

Now we’re getting somewhere, Evilina and I thought.

That’s when the dragon struck. It appeared above Aaron’s head like a Klingon warship, which is a pretty apt comparison given that it looked more like a pterodactyl than the standard mythical dragon I had expected.

Its flight had been completely silent, but Aaron had somehow sensed the creature. He jumped backward and fell hard. His stumble was all that kept the thing from plucking out his larynx as it dive-bombed him. Aaron threw his arms up, but the dragon was too fast and clipped his forehead with one talon. Rogue jumped back, too, knocking into me so hard that I was thrown backward. Rogue stood over me, growling viciously at the creature.

The dragon swooped over Aaron, landing between us. Smoke rose from its nostrils. Its eyes, focused on Rogue, were as big as my fist and glowed a bright orange red. It was a mass of sinewy crimson as it stalked the snarling dog, his long tail whipping back and forth like an agitated lion. It didn’t have any teeth that I could see, but its beak didn’t look like it needed any. I was fairly certain that if the thing got to me, it could crunch my head off like a Blow Pop. As it approached, it opened its beak and made a coughing sound reminiscent of someone trying to start a lawn mower.

“Holy shit!” I gasped, scrambling to get up and run away. Rogue didn’t allow it. He crouched over me, pinning me down. It was a good thing. The creature’s throat exploded with a wet thwack, and it crumpled to the ground, rolling a couple of times before flopping down a few feet away, still thrashing.

Rogue and I were sprayed with scalding hot blood as it convulsed. The blood spattered my face and I screeched, wiping it off desperately with my bare hands. The dragon flailed weakly a few more times, then went still.

For a moment, all was quiet except for the thudding of my heart. Then, for the first time since I arrived, a bird chirped somewhere in the distance. Rogue finally stepped off me and cautiously circled the thing. I wobbled into a sitting position, shaking violently and hyperventilating.

I had tried so hard not to cry, and I had really done well considering the circumstances, but I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Crying isn’t always about being distraught. Sometimes crying is just a generic way of releasing stress. I cry when I’m upset, sure, but I also cry when I’m pissed off and, apparently, when I’m attacked by a dragon.

Aaron walked up to the creature cautiously, holding a scrap of cloth to his forehead. Blood dripped into his right eye, down his cheek, past his chin, and into his previously well-kept beard. The front of his tunic displayed a sizable splotch of it, as well. His brow furrowed, and the corners of his mouth pulled down.

“That was my last bolt,” he grumbled, crouching down by the thing. “Dragons.”

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