Kiss the Dragon (Maidens Book One)

Chapter One

The voice inside me screamed.

They’re coming!

Someone was out there.

I didn’t need warning on this one, though. The malevolent energy of a presence coming straight for me hung in the air, pressing on my shoulders. It pierced the muted summer light of Scotland’s moody sky and raced over my skin, pulling at my hair, zapping me with an electric tingle that made my scars ache.

For a brief moment, I closed my eyes, willing it to not be real, but the voice beat against my brain like a legion of merciless fists.

They’re coming. Fast. Go.

It was real. The damned voice didn’t lie.

They were coming.

Again.

Just like Italy.

But I ignored the voice and continued to lather maple icing on the latest batch of peanut butter cupcakes, trying not to be scared. Fear wouldn’t protect me. I knew that. Knew it was just a waste of energy. Knew it was more important to be smart and fast. I’d been telling myself all that for the last ten years, but it didn’t help. I’d seen the things that chased me up close and personal. I couldn’t not be afraid, but I tried.

Was it the witches again?

Or some other group of monsters?

Or humans who knew about the magic of the world? Magic I’d never asked for.

The voice didn’t answer. It was a fickle curse.

I shuddered, my imagination kicking into overdrive.

Come on, Sara, don’t let it get to you, I coached myself. My mom had named me Sara after a great aunt who’d been a rabble rouser in the family. She’d stood tall and wide and never took shit from anyone. Mom told me, I named you after the strongest woman I know. Too bad it hadn’t imparted any actual strength.

And now someone bigger and badder than even my namesake lurked outside my little cupcake shop, the one I’d just opened on the main tourist drag of Inverness, Scotland, threatening to ruin it all. I’d dreamed of running a bakery since I was five. The shop was small, but it was perfect for me. The last time a criminal syndicate tried to grab me, I got their money on my way out. I could bankroll anything, but I’d chosen the cupcakes, yearning for something cozy and twee and innocent.

I’d painted the walls in light pastels and hung art nouveau prints on the walls—Alphonse Mucha was a favorite of mine. Wrought iron tables and chairs sat back against the wall, leaving just enough space for customers to stand and peruse the offerings in the display case.

This was supposed to be my gig for at least the next year. That’s how long it usually took them to find me.

I bit my lip. I really hoped it wasn’t some weird ass monster.

Weirdly, the voice wasn’t always big on details. I never knew what I was dealing with until it happened. Sometimes they were humans. Or they were...others, beings who were not quite human. I still wasn’t clear on how many things existed beyond my own native human species. Although, judging from the variety I’d seen, there were a lot of them.

Some had wings, others had squashed faces with beady eyes. Once, there’d been tentacles. Definitely not human, but I couldn’t say what they were other than the stuff of nightmares and fairytales. There’d only been one repeat so far; a particularly nasty coven of witches.

The coven had almost grabbed me in Rome, but I dodged them by jumping into a stranger’s car. The driver found me cute enough that, when I urged him to speed away, suddenly speaking fluent Italian, he complied. Getting away from him had been quite the feat. He became very attached in the afternoon we spent together.

Now someone or something had found me again. And I’d just paid the one-year lease in full. Dammit. I’d been counting on everything I’d learned about hiding to see me through.

Apparently, that was too much to expect.

I sighed and abandoned the cupcakes to close out the cash register. I stuffed money into my pockets and mentally prodded the voice, hoping it’d tell me who I’d be running from this time. But the voice was done with me. I never got to call the shots in our twisted relationship. The damn thing was like an infection. It only flared when it wanted to.

I crossed my fingers and sent a silent prayer up to whatever forces controlled my life that it wasn’t too bad. Please let it be humans. Regular humans didn’t bother me so much. Yes, they had henchmen with guns and tasers, but they were also predictable. I didn’t need my skills to stay one step ahead. They always offered me money before trying to outright kidnap me. So, I pretended to be interested, told them to show me the money or no deal, and split the first chance I got. They fell for it every time.

I checked to make sure my backpack was where I’d hung it on the hook by the rear entrance. I kept my life in that bag. It held everything I needed to start over and hide; fake passports, Visa gift cards that couldn’t be tracked, a change of clothes, cash in various currencies and guidebooks for Europe as well as Asia. Those two continents were the focus of my efforts to stay out of trouble.

I didn’t dare go back home to Ohio. My friends would talk and give me away to the people trying to hunt me down. Better to stick to places where no one had ever heard of me, let alone knew my face.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I stepped outside. I left the lights on in the bakery and didn’t bother to flip the sign over to ‘closed.’ No sense in tipping them off. I hoped whoever ventured in to buy a cupcake would be brave enough to just help themselves.

The late summer weather greeted me with a gloomy roll of thunder. The sun was gone now, replaced with dark clouds rolling like demons. Scotland weather had a lot of Reverse Uno cards. I squinted at the sky and trotted as fast as I could without breaking into a panicked run that would attract attention. It looked like my escape would be in the rain. Great.

No, countered that small, certain, always right, never wrong voice in my gut. I hated that voice so much. Once, I’d stabbed my stomach with a knife trying to cut it out. That was before I really understood what had happened to me. Before I’d comprehended what I’d become and the awful mistakes I’d made.

Negative energy pressed on me, threatening to flatten me into the uneven cobblestone sidewalk. They were really close. I needed to hurry and disappear before they laid eyes on me. Rummaging in my backpack as I walked, I pulled out a scarf and sunglasses. Wrapping the scarf around my head, I then perched the sunglasses on my nose. There. Try to match a photo to that, bad guys.

I would miss Inverness. The remote town hadn’t sounded particularly attractive to me initially, but the voice had urged me on.

Safe, it had whispered in my ear.

Such a bullshit artist, that voice. Always holding out hope, only to wrench it away with a twist on a word’s meaning. In the early days, when I had no idea what was going on, the voice told me my house was safe, but then my parents were killed in the living room. Shot by one of the many contingents who thought I would be useful to have.

Not employ.

Not consult.

Have as in own.

Whoever had been giving orders didn’t want anyone left behind to ask questions. The only reason I survived was because the voice forced me to leave the house. But it didn’t bother to save my parents. That was