Page 269 of Dragon Slayer

Then…

Unmistakable thrum of the elevator. It went up and down dozens of times a day, maybe even hundreds. Butthistime, drawn tight with inspiration, Val let the sound draw a quiet gasp from him.

He waited, barely breathing.

And then footfalls moved overhead, through subbasement one. Two sets. One heavy and purposeful, the other light and uncertain.

God. God, could it…

The outer door opened with a hiss of the lock. And then…

Then he caught her scent.

An unfamiliar female, lavender from the bath soap upstairs, clean underneath. Ripe. Warm. But also nervous. And also sick.

“Oh,” he said aloud, when he detected the tumor, that awful festering thing that didn’t belong in her beautiful head. His eyes burned, and his heart hammered, and he swayed on his cot. “Oh, Mia.”

He tried to stand as the barred door creaked open, but his knees gave out. Still weak, but also shivering with a kind of excitement too acute to name. He was terrified. He wanted to cry. He wanted to touch her.

The only thing louder than the thump of her pulse was his own. He gripped the edge of the cot hard, until his knuckles cracked, and then Vlad stepped into view.

And then…there she was.

He closed his eyes a moment, wanting to stamp the sight of her into his mind, in case this was a hallucination. If she wasn’t really here, he wanted to tuck her away between the pages of his sweetest fantasies, and pretend this was really happening.

Someone had given her black workout gear to wear, clinging black pants and a zippered jacket with a high collar. The dark washed her out a little, highlighted the shadows under her eyes. Her hair, normally pulled back under her helmet, fell in dark gold waves over both shoulders; it looked soft.

He opened his mouth, breathing through it, trying to taste her presence. She burrowed up into his sinuses and set his head to spinning.

He wet his lips and felt that his fangs had extended. “Vlad.” His voice was a cracked, shaky semblance of calm. “Am I dreaming?”

Vlad made an impatient sound. “Open your eyes, stupid.”

He smiled – because that was his big brother alright – and he did open his eyes, and Mia was still there, staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips. She couldn’t believe it either.

Vlad, face set in a way that suggested he thought they were both idiots, unlocked the cell door with the key and held it open. “You have half an hour,” he told Mia, “and then I’ll return. Otherwise, your father will become problematic.”

“Okay,” she said faintly, but didn’t move.

Vlad gave a sweeping gesture of invitation. “You’re not frightened, are you?”

“No–”

“No,” Val said, because she wasn’t. She smelled the way he felt: completely overwhelmed.

Vlad looked between them, unimpressed, then turned and walked away, cell door left open.

They were alone. And they were only ten feet apart. No bars, no cuffs, no thousands of miles and incorporeal forms. They…

They started moving at the same time. Val lurched up from his cot and Mia staggered forward. He saw tears fill her eyes, bright like crystal, and then they crashed together.

There were so many things he wanted to do, ways in which he wanted to touch her – brush her with careful, worshipful fingertips like the priceless piece of art she was. But that would have to come later, when he was less desperate, when he wasn’t choking on her scent for the very first time. He wrapped both arms around her and crushed her to his chest; felt her arms slip around his waist, vise-tight, hands digging into the back of his shirt. She pressed her face, hot, soft skin, into his throat with a gasp.

Val dropped his face into hair, panting, and an embarrassing sound like a groan built in his throat, worked its way past his lips.

He hunched his shoulders, shielding her, hiding her away. They weren’t close enough; he wasn’t sure they could be. “You’re here,” he murmured into the top of her head. Clutched her shoulders, pressed his fingers to her neck to feel the heat there, to know that she was real, her pulse flying under his touch. “You’re here, you’re here.”

“Val,” she said, like a sigh, breath hot across his collarbone.

He wanted to say so much. Everything. An abundance of gratitude, disbelief, and regret that she was here at all. The words gathered in his throat, too many, too fast, a logjam.

They could wait, he decided. He kissed her crown, and breathed her in, and basked in the pressure of her heart pounding against his.

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