Wait Till Your Vampire Gets Home (Broken Heart #4)

Wait Till Your Vampire Gets Home (Broken Heart #4) Page 4
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Wait Till Your Vampire Gets Home (Broken Heart #4) Page 4

"Holy shit!" shouted Ralph. He scooped me into his arms and took off like a shot. Before I knew it, we were safely on the road that Ralph had been aiming for when the car died. We were far enough away to be out of danger, but close enough to watch the action. He put me down and lucky, lucky me . . . he kept his arm around my shoulders.

I won't say anything about how nice his arm felt or how warm fuzzies turned into dancing butterflies in my belly. Because, y'know, that would be wrong. My timing always did suck. We turned to watch the fiery creatures. They plowed into the earth, screeching and burning, like two huge, jeweled meteors. Dirt and grass exploded. The ground under our feet shook. We wobbled and held on to each other to keep upright.

I might as well say it: Dragons. Yep. And they landed on the zombie and the vampire.

"Oh. Ouch." I flinched. "Do you think . . ."

"No," said Ralph, answering the question I couldn't quite ask. "They're toast."

"Maybe squished by dragons should be added to the list of ways to kill vampires." It was inane to say, I admit, but I was tired of screaming. My throat hurt. And if I was trying to appear cool under pressure and failing miserably, so what?

"Noted," said Ralph. "Beheading, intense light, and dragon squishing. Bad for vamps."

I bit my lip because I wanted to laugh, and it was sooooo not the time to exhibit a sense of humor. I mean, really, who laughs at a time like this? Not me. No, sirree. I gazed up at Ralph, but he looked all stoic and cute. He had a nice jaw. A little cleft in his chin. A thick fringe of lashes that so nicely framed his baby blues. Why did guys always get the great lashes?

My ruminations were cut short because Ralph gathered his wits before I did. He whipped out a cell phone and made a call. I took the cell out of my coat pocket and tried to call my parents, but with no luck. Worry gnawed at me; I pushed it away. We'd gotten out of a lot of jams over the years. If anyone was good at surviving peril, it was Dora and Elmore Monroe.

The dragons kept breathing fire on each other and slashing at each other with sharp, black talons. One dragon was blue-green, and the other orange-red. The only positive thing about their battle was that their fire turned the freezing February air darn near tropic.

"Does this happen a lot?" I asked.

"Um . . . no. Not really." He squeezed me in a very nice (oh, baby!) hug. Then he seemed to realize what he'd done and let me go like I was on fire. He cleared his throat. "Don't worry. Help is on the way."

Uh, yeah. What kind of help could possibly resolve two dragons duking it out? I couldn't see Broken Heart cops showing up and hauling them off to jail.

"Oh! My purse!" My bag was just a few feet away. Wow. That vampire had lobbed it a huge distance. It had landed upright and, hey, no spillage. I ran toward it, thinking only about scooping it up. It had a lot of stuff inside, stuff I used and needed and didn't want to accumulate all over again.

"Libby!"

I didn't heed the warning in Ralph's voice because I had my eyes on the prize. I crouched near a headstone and reached for the strap.

ROOOOOOAAAAAR!

The orange-red dragon flew over me, its belly so close I could see the intricate pattern of its glistening scales. Its wing tip brushed my head.

Heart pounding and adrenaline spiking, I grabbed my purse and flattened to the grass. The dragon landed on its side. The ground rolled underneath me, then shook violently. I squeezed my eyes shut and curled into a protective ball.

"Help me," cried a female voice.

I opened one eye. A couple of yards away lay a woman whom I can only describe as a dragon-woman.

Her body was covered in a strange, shimmery material, which gleamed orange and red. Black liquid streaked her abdomen and chest. She coughed and the same liquid burbled from her lips. Oh, God.

"Please," she cried. Desperation and pain filled her gaze.

The last thing I wanted to do was get anywhere near her. I wasn't a genius, but even I could figure out that she'd been the orange dragon. I'd studied shape-shifters. Rare was the mention of a were-dragon. And yet there she was, begging for my help.

Ruby Two and Sapphire Three would be really disappointed in me if I failed to help any living creature in trouble.

With the purse strap clenched in my fist, I rolled to my hands and knees. Where was the other dragon?

Where was Ralph? Where was my common sense?

Ralph zipped past us, leaping over the injured woman. He aimed both palms at the sky. Fire erupted. Ralph made hand motions and the fire shaped into large spheres. I couldn't wrap my brain around this new development. Ralph was a vampire who could wield fire?

Wasn't that an odd ability for a creature deathly allergic to all things light?

I didn't really have much time to ponder the question. Apparently a dragon could be as quiet as a stealth bomber. The blue-green soared toward us, soundless, its maw opening as flames licked its teeth. My heart leapt into my throat and I nearly choked.

The fire bombs struck it in the mouth, the chin, and the neck. Ralph relentlessly threw the fire at the creature. It flew higher into the sky, obviously pissed, trying to get out of range. Throwing fire at a dragon didn't seem all that smart. After all, dragons were fireproof. Maybe vampire fire was different. The blue dragon didn't seem to like it much.

I reached the girl. Up close, I could see her injuries were bad. Her odd skin had slashes from legs to shoulders, and several wounds were so deep I could see muscle and bone. My gorge rose. No. I had to keep it together. I could freak out later.

"What can I do?" I unzipped my purse and took out my box of wet wipes. I dabbed her face, wiped off her mouth, scrubbed her neck.

"Please." Her voice was a mere whisper.

From a side pocket, I pulled out my half-drunk bottle of Mountain Dew, my own little gustatory sin. I was a vegan. But that didn't mean I was immune to the sensual delights of junk food.

"I'm sorry." Tears crowded my eyes. God, I felt so helpless. She had to be in a lot of pain. "It's all I have. I promise I don't have cooties."

She smiled and I raised the bottle of soda to her mouth. She drank some, but it took effort. I could hear Ralph's shouts, the constant roar of fire, and the growls of the blue dragon. Their battle continued, but I feared this woman's was over.

"No more time." She grasped my jacket with her long, orange fingers. Her red nails pierced the material.

"My brother must not get my powers." She pulled me closer. "Kiss me."

"Oh. Uh . . ." I was all for granting last requests, but kissing a girl? "I'm really sorry. I'm not a lesbian."

Her laugh was hoarse. "I promise I don't have cooties."

She yanked me down and clamped her mouth on mine. The first thought that entered my mind was "No tongue!" The next thought was "Seriously! No tongue!" And then I realized the kiss wasn't a kiss. There was nothing sexual about it.

Fire shot from her mouth to mine. It roared through me, licking my skin, enveloping my insides. I tried to pull away, but we were sealed together. I felt her fingertips against my temples. God, it was so hot. Not porno hot. Falling-into-the-sun hot.

I was burning, burning.

"Libby!"

Ralph's voice sounded far away. I couldn't respond. I couldn't do anything but accept the fiery gift of the dragon.

Then it was over.

She collapsed to the ground, her hands falling away from my face. I knelt next to her, shivering, trying to draw in breath. Energy pulsed at the base of my spine, and spun a web of throbbing heat to every nerve ending. It was almost as if my blood had been burned away, leaving only the cleansing magical fire racing through my veins.

Streaks of red and orange blurred my vision.

My stomach rebelled and I fell to my side, vomiting black liquid. What had she done to me?

"Libby!"

My vision cleared and I saw Ralph's legs. His white sneakers were battered and muddy. He squatted next to me, avoiding my puddle of ick, and helped me sit up.

"Jesus," he muttered. He grabbed the box of wipes and yanked one out. He cleaned my face, but the swipes were painful. Every inch of me felt raw, exposed. "What did she do to you?"

I gripped his wrist and he stopped wiping my cheeks.

"The . . . other . . . dragon," I managed to whisper.

"As soon as you and the other woman went inferno, the blue one took off."

"How . . . is . . . she?"

"She's gone, honey," he said gently. "Whatever she did to you, it was her last act on this Earth."

Some act. Where before it had felt like lava pouring through me, now it was as though I had been submersed in an Arctic sea. My teeth chattered and my vision grayed. I felt like I was sinking under the inky black of the cold ocean. Drowning in it.

I grabbed Ralph by the arms. "My . . . p-parents."

"We'll find them. I promise." He pressed his lips against my forehead. Electricity arced between us. Ralph was thrust away from me, his body writhing in orange-red flames. I reached for him, tried to call his name.

My traitorous eyes closed and I unwillingly sank into the beckoning dark.

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