Chapter Two

Drake stood at the top of the lighthouse and stared into the storm. Water splashed around the lighthouse, but this tempest had a different feeling. He couldn’t quite explain it. It reminded him of olden times, when he would roll around with the winds and he could understand the language of the storm. Ever since he lost his way from his home, he had settled into the world he survived in.

And that was all he did.

At first he had nothing. The people who found him were primitive and terrified of his true form. It had taken Drake a while to understand they had no use of magic. The knowledge that he had would be lost. He learned to adapt and stay in his human form, which constricted him. As years passed and the weight of the world grew too cumbersome, he slept. During one of those times, he had been woken by a man named Blackmore. The man hadn’t been frightened of him.

Drake discovered the world around him much changed. Humans had evolved. The world was brimming with people and energy. When the man had awakened Drake, the dragon had sensed no fear within the human. Drake realized that he needed to become a part of this new world. That decision had meshed his destiny with the Blackmores. Drake sighed and gazed out into the darkened sea. The past was behind him, and nothing could change it.

The power of the tempest called to the dragon buried deep within him. The beast stirred from the sound of the crashing waves pounding into the lighthouse. It had been a long time since Drake felt his other half wake from slumber. He winced at the brilliance of the lighthouse’s light, but the heat chased away the wind’s chill. Drake peered into the heart of the light but didn’t wince at the artificial flame. When the place was first built an actual fire had provided the beacon to guide the ships. Those were simpler days he missed.

Out of the corner of his eye, something caught his attention. A large form, descended from the clouds in the shape of an enormous dragon. His senses told him the visage had to be a trick of the light. But no, the dragon part of him said, it had a purpose. Power was in it. He followed its path as it flew to the cliffs, heading toward the manor. As he watched it, he caught sight of how the waves sloshed over the side of a charter boat. Drake turned away from it to follow as the shape smashed into the rocks. The waves rolled over it, but within seconds it arose from the rocks, brushed its great wings across the cliff near the mansion, and dipped toward the ship. Drake saw the ship chugging back toward the shore.

The mist dragon wavered on the wind and nearly disappeared into the beacon, but it swung around. Vaporous wings touched his cheek. The zing of power that speared him made him realize this wasn’t something of this world. If there was magic here, it was locked away. Drake had never really witnessed it except in meeting those few humans that had an otherness about them. They called them psychics or witches. He had been used to spellcasters, wizards who could manipulate the world around them. They had fought side by side in many battles. In this world no such thing existed. The light passed and the form returned to the clouds. This portent meant something. He just didn’t know what. Drake gripped the slippery railing and took in a deep breath, a little bit of his tension easing. It was a strange feeling, as though something in him slipped.

He closed his eyes and let the wind caress his face. Drake remembered the days when it would tickle his scales. For a moment he could almost pretend he was back in his original form. A blast moved him back a few steps, but the power passed over him until it was completely gone. When he opened his eyes, Drake saw something sprawled on the rocks below him in the shape of a body. He didn’t think much of it until he realized it was not a trick of the light. It was a person. Sometimes that happened when a corpse washed up on the rocks. Drake almost dismissed it, but he thought about what had happened and decided to investigate instead of contacting the authorities.

Drake wound down the spiraled metal staircase that precariously clung to the inside of the cylindrical structure. He braced himself against the battering wind and rising water. If he had been in his other form, then the water and the wind would have bowed down before him, knowing he was the majestic beast that ruled the air and the seas. All elements would worship him, along with the rest of the other dragons, but he had resigned himself that he would never see his kind again. Drake shook off the surge of anger and went out to the prostate form sprawled on the rocks. The chill in the air sliced through his clothes and scraped at his skin. Normally, the elements didn’t bother him, but it was somewhat chillier than it should have been. The tourist season was winding down. He figured the body might be one of them. No one in their right mind, not even the captain of that boat, should be out on the seas tonight, but there were people apparently who didn’t listen to the weatherman. He snorted the water from his nose and focused back on the corpse.

A woman.

Her flesh was cold to the touch. Under the light, blood matted her hair. Wonderful. I’ll call in the authorities and have them pick up her body. I hate dealing with humans, no matter how little interaction I have with them. He scooped up the corpse. When she moaned, he nearly dropped her. Drake had assumed she was good as dead, but she clung to life. She started to tremble. He hugged her close to his chest, letting the heat of his body warm her. He burned hotter than normal humans. His dragon may have been sleeping, but certain aspects of his anatomy didn’t change and his body temperature was one of them. Drake struggled to get her inside the lighthouse. When he did, he kicked open the swinging door that separated the lighthouse from his actual living quarters.

Once he got into his bedroom, he laid her on the bed and threw some logs on the fire. Drake closed his eyes and summoned the fire within him. That much of his heritage was still at his fingertips. Heat flushed him, and he flung the ball that gathered in his palm at the wood. They exploded into a blaze. Satisfied it would stay lit, Drake concentrated on the woman. Her breathing was shallow. He stripped off his jacket, shirt, and pants, so he wouldn’t make her any colder. Her lips were blue. Her face ashen. The labored breathing alerted him some water was in her lungs. She was close to death, getting to the point where he could just let her pass on. As he studied her tangled mass of hair, something was roused within him. Drake gritted his teeth. He wasn’t that much of a cold hearted bastard to let her die.

She wasn’t much dressed for the harsh weather. She was in a red blouse and a black skirt. He lifted her up against him and fumbled to get her soaking blouse over her head. Drake threw it by the fire to worry about it later. Next he pulled off her skirt and tried to untie the knots in her boots, but the water had swollen them. Not budging, he clutched them and with a little bit of strength ripped the laces until they snapped. He yanked them off, along with her stockings, and left her in her bra and panties. Once she was disrobed, he grabbed a few of the old blankets he had and spread them over her. Most important thing was raising her body temperature and then seeing if she sustained any injuries. Once she was underneath the blankets, he examined her head. He had picked up a few things in his long life.

Drake grabbed a cloth and some alcohol. He was able to clean the gash, and he didn’t feel like her skull was cracked, so she wouldn’t die from her head injury. It was just a matter of getting the bleeding to stop. When he was sure of that, he took stock of her other injuries. Her face was scratched up from rubbing against the rocks and the waves dragging her through the water. Some were deep and he figured they would scar, but color had returned to her face and her lips as she warmed up. Her breathing had gotten better. He lifted her up once more and hit her on the back. She coughed, and water spilled over her lips. Drake patted her back a few more times until the rattle in her lungs stopped. He grabbed another blanket and tucked it over her. After that, Drake set her clothes on a rack to dry by the fireplace and went into the kitchen to put on some coffee and soup.

It was going to be a long night.