Dragon Fire first chapter

Magic was a beautiful thing. I could still remember what it felt like to look up at the sky and make it rain. My hands, that once had a power constantly vibrating inside them, that could create fireballs, now felt cold.

I missed it so much.

I sat on an old wooden bench in the park, waiting for Mark. Everything was quiet, apart from a few kids, having a game of tag in the snow. A chilling wind played with the remains of a newspaper.

Somewhere in my mind, I knew that this was just a dream. That I was safely asleep, that it was summer, and that I still had magic.

No, wait—this wasn’t a dream. Dreams were never this real. This was a premonition.

The tall tree above the bench had a thick trunk that cast a dark shadow on my seat. It suited how I felt as I waited there.

I wasn’t sure what I would say to Mark once we met. I was counting my blessings that he agreed to see me at all, after everything that had happened between us.

We’d lost each other. We didn’t mean to, but it happened despite our best efforts. Maybe he blamed me. I did—because I was supposed to protect him. I was Mark’s Guardian witch, and he was my Charge.

Was… It was all over now. Avalon’s Curse, that had created Guardian Love—that all-powerful bond that protected us—was broken. And I found out the hard way that most of my magic was given to me because of it.

Now, I hardly had anything left. A few minor tricks here and there. Nothing more.

“You had some nerve to ask me to come.”

I rose to the sound of Mark’s voice.

He approached the bench from behind. I used to be able to sense that—know when people approached. Only a few weeks ago, I could have sat here with my eyes closed and felt the kids’ movements, the falling leaves, even the flowing waters of a fountain a few yards away. And Mark. But not anymore.

My breath stopped at the sight of him. The ex-tech star. Handsome like he was on the day we met. That light, sunny hair. His sapphire eyes—a brighter shade of blue than mine—that had once observed me with so much love, admiration almost. They now burned into my soul. With anger, resentment, hatred even.

“Mark. I…you look…”

“You asked for five minutes.” His voice was icy cold and far away.

That hurt. More than anything he could actually say.

“Well?” He stood there, glaring.

“Ah…would you like to sit?”

“Are you for real?” He sneered. “You know, my lawyers told me to never see you again. That was the divorce settlement from hell!”

“I never touched the money.”

That made him pause.

“I was given no choice, Mark. I thought I was saving you.”

“Losing you and everything I’ve ever loved doesn’t save me. Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?!”

“I wish I could take it back. And―”

“And what? Why are you here, Julie?”

“I found a way to reverse the spell!” I said quickly, before this conversation could slip any further down the road of agony.

Mark eyed me. Questioning. Silence passed between us. He took a step toward me.

“Say it again.” His words were almost a whisper.

“The spell can be reversed! I know how to do it. How to prevent it all from happening to us. We’d still be married and magically bound, just like we were before.”

A moment of hope crossed his weary eyes.

He took another step. It seemed like an eternity had passed since we were this close to each other.

“That’s why I came to you,” I said. “We need to work together. That is, if you still want to.” My voice was a plea.

“Want to? Are you joking?! Of course, I want to! What do you think? That I just stopped loving you? All this time, I’ve been desperate, walking around like half a person. I can’t sleep. My food’s tasteless. My life’s tasteless.”

Gosh! “Me too. You’re all I think about.”

He closed the distance between us. “You disappeared. You just walked out. And nothing made sense since. I can fix what happened to my company, but I don’t even want to. Not without you in my life. And suddenly I find out that you still want me?!”

“Of course. I love you! How could you doubt―”

Suddenly, we were kissing. He’d cupped my face with his hands, his lips on mine, taking me with force. With longing. With urgency.

A tear made its way down my cheek from the intensity. He wanted this. He still desired me.

His arms tightened around me, and I allowed myself to feel…like I used to, when this would happen: as if we were the only ones in the world and everything else disappeared.

Mark released his hold, only to grab me again.

When our lips parted once more, he gazed at me, still holding me close. “Tell me. What do we have to do?”

“I once had a premonition. When I was sleeping. I had seen us meet here in this moment, next to this bench. Do you remember—I told you about it?”

“But that was different. We were happy. You were pregnant.”

“I still am.”

“What?!” He looked at me in disbelief.

Yes. My belly didn’t show. Even now, so close to the end.

“God, Julie.” Mark’s hand brushed through his hair. “I thought I’d lost everything.”

“No. Not yet. There’s still a way. But we have to do this now: you must tell me exactly what happened to break our resistance, so that when I see this moment, when I get this premonition, I will know what we must prevent. Then, we’ll do whatever it takes fix it.”

“We will.” He took my hand, resolute. “Right. The first thing they said to me was―”

I woke up with a start.

No!

What? Why?!

Just as I was about to find out what I needed to know.

With my eyes closed, I tried to get back to the vision, back to Mark and the bench. But premonitions were not like dreams. There was nothing I could do.

I cursed and sat up in bed.

The room came into view: the old high ceiling, the heavy curtains, the sturdy desk by the door.

I was on the second floor of a house that once belonged to Mark’s grandparents, Iona and Logan Ralston. In Scotland, near Edinburgh. Far from my home in New York.

My ears caught the soft noise of pen on paper. Someone was breathing intensely in one of the other rooms. The person had a vibe of gentleness.

Kendra. My best friend. She was here tonight too. Last time we were both in this house, it was for my wedding, and she was the planner.

So much had changed since.

I pushed away the sheets and with that, the remains of sleep—there was no way I’d doze off again quickly. I walked toward the door, brushing my fingers through my dark hair, and passing the chair where I’d hung the black dress that I was going to wear tomorrow.

“Hey you.” Kendra opened her door after my soft knock. The low light coming from behind her made her bright brown eyes and braided, long, blonde hair seem darker. “Up in the middle of the night, are we?”

“I can say the same,” I replied.

“I’m busy. I’m eating chocolate pancakes.”

I chuckled. Behind her, on an old table, I saw the offending plate…next to an open laptop, a pile of notebooks, a few printouts, maps, a calculator, old-looking papers, and a collection of pens.

What time was it? The clock above the bed had both hands exactly at the top. Midnight.

“So, are you joining me, or what?” Kendra asked.

I stepped in, pacing the heavy, dark-blue rug.

We sat on the bed, and she handed me a fork. “Best jet lag cure in the world. Or pregnancy cure—whatever is keeping you up.”

“Yes. All part of the charm.” I took a bite, allowing myself to indulge in sweet, delicious chocolate. And to forget that I was a fitness trainer and that this night binge was a big no-no. Forget my troubles for a couple of minutes…and why I was here without Mark.

Kendra tilted her head as she watched. “Are you stressed about tomorrow?”

“Yes.” That went without saying.

“He will be there.”

I sighed. “I have to believe that.”

Her words brought me back to a few months ago. When I met Mark. He was my Charge—the person I was born to fall in love with and magically protect for as long as we both lived, which would be a few centuries—and I was his Guardian.

But right afterward, we got threatened by a powerful mage—Eduard Davies—who was out to kill us. To save us, I had to do something forbidden: I transferred a copy of my powers to Mark. Magic was not compatible with humans. Those born to it had limitations that Mark didn’t. There was just one known case in history when it had been done, and the Charge went mad and vicious, abusing the power.

Mark managed to fight the darkness at first. For almost three months. Until that terrible night…

Mark’s grandparents were killed in front of his eyes—that was the tipping point. The darkness unleashed itself, uncensored. As if a beast had taken over, a deep shadow—like Erebus in Greek mythology.

He left, fearing that being around me would endanger me and the baby.

But I had found a way to reverse the darkness. Now, I had to find him quickly, because every day Erebus would grow worse, until it destroyed him.

Two weeks had passed since that night. I’d been traveling constantly. I knew I had hope because Mark somehow managed to communicate with his staff and keep Ralston, his multinational software company, going. It meant that he had regained control, for the most part. But I couldn’t find out where he was doing it from. I once saw his name in the headlines of a newspaper they gave us on a plane; it was an interview, but it was done online. There were no new pictures of him anywhere, not even in the tabloids.

Mark didn’t want to be found.

That night also changed Kendra. A memory-blocking spell was broken. And she discovered that she was a witch too—a powerful, experienced mage who had survived Salem. Not my twenty-six-year-old friend—my age—who grew up with me.

Things were awkward between us now; we were adjusting. Or trying to. She still looked and spoke like my Kendra. But there was…a certain something. A dissonance between her young body and upbeat nature, and the true weight of the years.

“You can count on it: Mark will be there tomorrow,” she now said.

Tomorrow was Mark’s grandparents’ funeral. I breathed out, tensely. “It would take everything he’s got to come. And he knows I’ll be there—he’ll…do some disappearing act. We’re both running out of time.” In more ways than one—given that vision.

“Actually…I might have something for you.” Kendra rose from the bed. She dug in the pile of papers. “It’s here somewhere.”

As organized as she was, there were some things Kendra couldn’t place: Papers—which was why she did everything on her computer and phone. The phone charger when she travelled. Her watch when she didn’t. Sunglasses. Keys—that one we had in common. And once, last week, her engagement ring.

She was marrying our close friend, James—her Charge, who took it with surprisingly good humor when they discovered who she really was. Guardian love ensured that Charges would accept us; in his case, it came with a little too much enthusiasm. Last time we spoke, he said he wished he could conjure dinner too.

“Here. I was going to give it to you later, but since you’re up.…” She handed me an old, folded page, worn and with heavier weight than normal paper. It had a few lines written on it. “It’s a note from a correspondence my late uncle had.”

“What…language is it in?” I didn’t recognize a single word.

“A Celtic language, spoken before English was invented. What? Don’t look at me like that.”

“Sorry.” I laughed. Yes, she was old enough to have learned older languages from a native speaker.

She chuckled. “The letter is about the limitations of magic. It might help you understand Mark—and save you both some time. You said his healing powers are limitless. You and I both know healing is the worst, most draining magic. It doesn’t just require concentration—you also give your own vitality to someone else. It comes from the same source which gives us such long lives.”She uttered the last words with a mischievous smile.

I laughed again.

“I wrote down the translation for you. I hope it helps.”

“Thank you. So…what’s keeping you up?” I glanced at her busy table.

Her expression went grim. “I’ve been struggling. I can’t find an answer I desperately need. These are my old notes on Okawi.” The Okawi was a rare phoenix-type creature that could block memories by implanting a magical flame in your mind. That was what happened to her and her family, to make them forget who they were.

“To this day, you are considered the best-known authority on the subject,” I said. Long ago, she had researched Okawi—under the pen name Cyanea the Observer, in Greek.

She gave me a glance of pride, which vanished almost immediately, replaced by worry. “Well… Not if I can’t solve this problem. My parents still have no recollection of my brother, or that they have magic.”

“It will all come back. It just takes time, right?”

“Yes, but how long? We all know Okawi spells start to disperse when the Okawi dies and resurrects. I got it all back, but the others didn’t. I now recall times when I suddenly remembered who my brother was, or who I was. There was even once when James and I met—before college.”

“Really?!”

She blushed. “And my powers ascended…”

“Oh. I see.” I was reminded of how my own powers ascended after my first intimacy with Mark.

“But every time I remembered something, the memories got erased afterward. And now it’s all back, but my parents…I need to find out why this is happening like this. Is there a way to affect it? I’m going over my old notes. Maybe it will come to me now. The stillness of the night helps me concentrate.”

The stillness of the night—words a bit out of character for her.

“How’s James handling it?”

“Well…the usual. Said he will one day do magic too, and turn us all into cats, but for now he has to suffice with AI to manipulate our photos.”

I laughed.

“Now, you, missy,” she was back, “need to get some sleep.”

“Thanks, Mother. I thought I’d have another pancake maybe?”

“Nice try.” She laughed and tilted her head, giving me a look that was all-Kendra.

“You need sleep too.”

“I will. But not yet.”

I rose. If I stayed longer, I might be tempted to finish the entire plate—if she let me—or worse: talk to her about my premonition.

I lay awake after that, thinking of the vision again. It was in winter. Mark was alive and well. And…there was no shadow in him. None that I could sense—I was usually the only one who felt it so far. Except for that night, when it got unleashed.

Did breaking the Curse help? Had the universe gone back to how it was thousands of years ago, when mages and not humans ruled the world? I didn’t know much about that time. Maybe back then a mortal could handle magic?

But we were always taught that nobody could reverse the Curse. Was “future me” just about to tell me how it was done? At least she got the warning through—but without any real information.

Still, I knew one important thing: that even without the Curse and the Guardianship, Mark and I loved each other. It wasn’t just magic!

I woke up early the next day. The room was cold. The raindrops tapped on the window with force and the trees swayed with the wind. I wrapped the warm blanket around me and went to sit in the armchair by the window, to watch the rain.

It was as though the whole world was crying over Iona and Logan. I remembered his humor and her laughter. In all my tunnel-visioned focus of finding Mark, I had to sometimes remind myself to feel…that I too was grieving, that I missed them.

Downstairs, someone was making coffee. Dougal or Svetlana Ralston, maybe? Mark’s parents. Or Jim, his brother, or his half-sister Sharon? Everyone was here. All but one. Mark had emailed Jim that he was on a business trip and would arrive straight to the ceremony—here’s hoping. But it was an email, not a phone call—the location couldn’t be traced.

A cab stopped by the front door. I rose, hopeful. But it wasn’t Mark. Or my parents, who were arriving today: George and Helen Evans, mage and Charge for over two centuries. Instead, Kendra’s brother Ralph stepped out, umbrella in hand.

He was here? When we last spoke, he said he wasn’t coming, that he didn’t know Mark’s grandparents that well. Maybe Kendra persuaded him.

I went to get dressed, so I could talk with him.

Ralph was my close friend—and Kendra’s—long before we found out they were siblings. He was helping me find Mark, using his resources as a research journalist. We didn’t succeed, and in hindsight, I should have questioned his methods, which included a lot of travel—suitable for his style and not mine. In two weeks, I’d been from the north of Norway, through the Karakoram mountains in Kashmir, and all the way to Melena del Sur in Bejucal, Cuba. With stops on the way. But he was trying to help.

He was under the gun too. He suffered from the effects of that Okawi flame: he knew who he was, but he had many memory gaps and struggled to control his magic.

I finished dressing and stood in front of the mirror in my high heels. The black dress looked elegant and modest at the same time. I wished Mark could be with me now.

With my eyes closed, I imagined him here, behind me, looking at me through the mirror. The smell of his aftershave, its rough edge that always reminded me of that incredible stubble on the days he didn’t use it. That gorgeous smile. Dimples. The way a white shirt would stretch across his chest muscles. I could almost hear his voice.

“Julie.”

Mark? I opened my eyes. I was alone.

When I got downstairs, Ralph had already left, with Kendra. There was a note for me not to wait for them, and to head out with Mark’s family. That they’d meet me there.

It still rained when the ceremony started, drumming on my umbrella. My shoes got wet, and the water was climbing up toward my knees on the fabric. I had cast a heat spell on myself. But there was not much I could do about the dampness, without it being noticed.

I stood between the many people who had showed up—Iona and Logan had a wide net of friends—and listened to the words about the lives that they’d had. My tears blended with the sprinkles of rain.

All the time, my eyes searched for Mark. In the gathering of people with black coats and umbrellas, and the heavy rain, it was hard to tell who was who. But he had to be here.

Right before the ceremony, someone asked me when he was going to arrive—I said, “Soon.” Thankfully, they didn’t push.

The ceremony was long. Ralph and Kendra stood beside me.

At some point, Ralph leaned and whispered, “How have you been holding up?” His green eyes now observed me with concern. We didn’t get a chance to speak before.

“I’m okay,” I said.

He tried to put a soothing hand on my shoulder. As he moved his hand up, it accidentally brushed on mine. I turned away, but Ralph paused, as if an electric current had passed through him. He flexed his fingers. Next to me, Kendra gave him a glare.

I ignored them both and focused my gaze on the people around us.

And then, I saw him.

Mark.

Suddenly, just like that, he was there. Right between his sister Sharon and his brother Jim.

Our gazes locked. Those penetrating blue eyes looked straight into my soul. A moment passed between us, connecting us as though we were the only people there. I felt that sweetness that I’d felt the first time I ever saw him.

“Mark,” I mumbled as I started to walk to him.

He moved away and shook his head, telling me not to approach. His umbrella separated from the rest as he backed into the crowd behind him.

I followed, losing him and then finding him again, until we were outside the huddle.

He walked fast, away from me and into the building where the reception would be held. I sensed his magic locking the door, and undid the spell.

I entered. He was at the end of the hallway, walking away.

“Stop!” My voice echoed in the high-ceilinged corridor.

He paused, as if considering whether to turn and face me. Then, deciding, he did.

“Julie.”

I wanted to run to him. To fall into those arms and tell him that I was angry and frustrated and sad that he left, even if he was protecting me. That after everything we’d been through, everything I’d done for him, it was cruel. That I hated him for going away when I was pregnant.

But I stood there. Motionless.

He was the one to make the first move. He took a step toward me.

My heart quickened.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he said, stress in his voice.

“I knew you’d be here.”

He looked at me intently. “It’s not safe. You can’t be around me. I won’t be able to control it. It’s a miracle I was able to come back from…that.”

“I trust you.” I started to walk to him, fearful that he would disappear again if I didn’t.

He tensed but remained there, observing me with worry but not moving away.

“I trust you,” I repeated, softly, now that I had reached him, and I looked up to meet his gaze.

A moment of silence passed between us. His eyes moved from mine to my lips and back. His fists clenched at the restraint it took to not act on his desire.

“The hell with it!” And then his lips met mine, with force. With longing. With urgency.

With love.