Flamechild Part Two

Dragon and Jon walked through the dark streets, both walking with the light quick step of the hunter.

Absently the vampire watched the moonlight patterns shifting on the cobbles, thinking idly what a pair they made; tall, dark vampire and petite silver-eyed girl.. They were close friends, of a sort, but sometimes...Dragon drove him *mad*. She didn't seem to understand how fragile the balance of power was, how you couldn't just charge in and kick hell out of everyone all the time.

They were heading back to their home for the last week, a cramped flat on the third floor of a multi-storey building.

No one knew how the angels' leader, Shadow, managed to find the tacky places they had to stay in on missions. One thing was sure though - no one would think of looking for them there. More than one team had come back with tails of rat infestations and sudden power cuts.

Anyone who complained to the elusive Shadow, a dark, dull-eyed but quick-witted lamia, had the fact that they had remained undiscovered calmly pointed out to them.

He glanced at Dragon. She was quiet. Too quiet.

"All right," he said finally, "spit it out, Tiamat. I know you've got something on your mind."

A startled look, then she smiled ruefully. "I was just wondering why all the fuss about these Wild Powers. There's no proof they even exist. People with blue fire, garbled prophecies about blood. The Nightworld's gone insane." Scorn rich in her voice.

Jon shrugged. "Insane, maybe, but what if they exist? That kind of power's valuable, Dragon. Legend says the Wild Powers are utterly unstoppable."

"*I* could stop them." She bent a cool look on him. "Any dragon could."

"Daybreak say different," Jon informed her. Maybe he didn't like Daybreak's earnest pacifism and high ideals, but from what he knew, they had Thierry Descoudres running the show, and he wasn't the sort to believe in fairy stories.

She snorted, disgusted and Jon steeled himself for the rant he had heard so often. "Daybreak! Pacifists and vermin! And another thing, what’s all this soulmate rubbish?" With that, she shook her head, the pale elflocks falling away to show four small pointed horns. The bases for her 'shifting powers.

She could shift into any animal - keen-eyed hawk, wild pony, swift cheetah; no creature's form was exempt. But now, she was only a girl, if a witch - she was only half dragon, related to the 'lost' Amidefeu line who were of course, not at all lost, but every member fully aware and able to use their witch powers.

She was glaring, seeing in her mind, no doubt, hosts of humans and Nightpeople smiling happily at one another, but her eyes were sparkling indignantly, slender body drawn up to its full height of just over five feet.

The vampire kept quiet. He didn't want to get into this argument again - last time, he had set off her quicksilver temper, and been hit halfway across the room. Ice maiden she might appear, but there was fire in her veins.

The Angels were lucky to have Dragon; in addition to being a powerful shapeshifter, she had stunning witch powers. She was the only dragon awake - the rest were still locked in slumber within the earth. More importantly, she was fighting with them, not against them. Although why she was helping to protect humans, Daybreakers and Nightpeople, Jon didn’t know, and couldn’t figure out.

Still, he had his own motives, not all of them entirely selfless.

Glancing at her, he saw with some surprise that her ears were now tawny, pointed lynx ears. He blinked a couple of times, then looked again. Still cat eared. He carried on walking, curious.

"Why the ears?" he murmured in an undertone, knowing she would hear him.

Without turning her head to look at him, she hissed softly, "Being followed." Jon groaned inwardly. Couldn't they just have one mission where someone didn't follow or attack them? Was it really too much to ask?

"Split." he heard her order in a voice filled with the power of waterfalls. She turned her head towards him, smiled wickedly, then slid off into the blackest shadows in her feline way. Jon glared after her, muttering under his breath, "Yes sir."

As he reached the next side street, Jon strolled off, out of the dim moonlight. He glanced round the wall, saw a figure step out from behind a building. It walked towards where Dragon had gone. As it came closer, he could see it was the blond vampire Dragon had knocked out.

Jon cursed under his breath. More trouble. And trouble with an attitude at that. The stalker strode purposefully towards the darkness, eyes liquid silver, matching Dragon's eyes - only she was no vampire – fangs extended to a milky-white needlepoint. Mutely, Jon followed him across the wide street.

He could see Dragon, standing in the shadows, waiting for the vampire, but seemingly innocent as she crouched down, searching for an earring Jon could see glinting on the slabs. He guessed she had ripped it out of her ear to distract the vampire.

Jon walked a little faster, catching the vampire in easy strides. Adrenaline was running through his veins now, a comfortable buzz that gave his limbs extra power. He politely tapped him on the shoulder, then when their pursuer turned round, hit the vampire as hard as he could. And that was *hard*.

He had the advantage of surprise, and used it to his benefit. When he did a karate-style kick on the vampire, he slumped on the floor in a moaning heap. Jon's shoes, a deceptively scruffy pair of Reeboks, had wood added on the end, just a thin layer attached to give the fighting a little extra 'kick'. He knocked the vampire out before he recovered and pulled out a length of wire that he wrapped around the vampire’s feet and wrists as an added deterrent.

Dragon walked forward. "I could've handled him," she said reproachfully. She looked down at the blond Nightperson. "But good work anyway. I couldn't have done any better,” she added grudgingly.

"Well, I wanted a little of the action, for once." Jon said. "Now can we go, before any other nutters decide to attack us?" He started walking back down the road, towards the apartment.

~*~

It was two months later when Jon announced he was leaving. Dragon could hardly believe it – and even more strangely, he was leaving to marry the lamia they had saved that night. Before he left, Shadow erased all his memories of the past two years; he had to for the safety of their society. He left Dragon without a partner and the angels’ rule was that they *always* worked in teams of two or more.

Instead, she was paired with Shadow, the leader of their society...

Lanaka looked up as Dragon stormed in. Her relative’s eyes blazed so bright they were almost fire instead of silver, her muscles tense with anger and something Lanaka couldn’t quite define.

“Gods cursed *idiots*!” the silver haired girl hissed, her feet slamming onto the floor. “You will not believe this!”

Lanaka Amidefeu was a direct descendant of Dragon’s mother.

It was a well-known family story; back in the days of dragons, Kallissa, a young witch, had fallen madly - why, Lanaka often wondered, did one never fall sanely in love? - in love with a dragon prince called Drax.

It had been forbidden, of course, but the affair had continued undiscovered for eighteen years and consequently, Kallissa’s sister had murdered the dragon when she found out; put him to sleep and then administered a deadly poison. Dragon Tiamat was their daughter, a fey creature with the wild looks to match her character.

Legend had it that the girl had been put to sleep by her mother before Kallissa left, eventually remarrying and birthing the woman who had been the first Amidefeu. Dragon herself had been in danger; a half-breed with renegade parents, there had been no hope for her in her own time. Her location had been handed down through the family for the day when Kallissa had foreseen her daughter awakening; the day Lanaka turned sixteen.

A day etched on her memory, as though it were but a heartbeat ago...

~*~

Lanaka crept along the passage as quietly as she could, afraid in the darkness that seemed to swallow even her voice. It had grown steadily colder the further down she went and now she was glad of the thick fleece that was wrapped around her body.

“Are you *sure* about this?” the other witch hissed unhappily. He thought it was all rubbish anyway, but put up with his girlfriend’s eccentric ideas because he knew how level-headed she was usually.

She nodded then realised he couldn’t see in the dim light her torch threw off. “As the sky is blue.”

At the edge of her hearing, Vidian muttered, “There is no sky here.”

She mentally cursed him for his pessimism, when she needed some support most of all.

Because Lanaka was scared. Her parents should have been here, to guide her through the ceremony, but when their car had swerved into a wall going too fast, it had been all over for them. Her mother had left her no advice, nothing but the house she held onto through the influence of the Angels.

She had to wake this dragon alone. Lanaka had heard enough about the dragons – what if she woke up insane, or refused to help, or in a killing rage? What if she didn’t wake up at all? All she had was a half-rotting scroll and the help of Vidian Arlin.

She started as the light hit a reflective surface. Metal. She stopped and Vid almost cannoned into her, but merely stepped back, silent with awe.

The door was a gigantic mirror. There were runes carved in it that Lanaka had never seen, but she felt power heating the air around them. Cautiously, she inched forwards, hoping that the warding spells would accept her, and traced the sigil she had been taught. It was an automatic motion now and almost anti-climatic.

The door swung back and a rush of cool air lashed her long hair against her face, stinging. She saw a room beyond…Lanaka frowned. It was filled with golden light, the floor a flat carpet of black stone that resembled jet. In the centre of the room hovered a crystal the light came from, perfectly spherical – impossibly so. The room was filled with magick, old magick that was powerful beyond anything Lanaka had seen.

It looked like a typical bedroom, a carved bed tucked against the wall, a miniature on the wall of a dignified woman and a stern-faced man. Kallissa and Drax? Lanaka wondered. But they were not her concern.

She walked over to the bed and leaned over the girl who was asleep there. Lanaka’s eyes widened at her startling appearance; her hair was pure silver – not grey, but sparkling silver and her skin was creamy, the white that came from being inside for so long. She was smaller than Lanaka had expected, why, she couldn’t be much over five feet. But then, they hadn’t evolved so much back in dragon times.

“That’s her?” she heard Vidian breathe in her ear, his eyes huge and brown. He was staring in faint disbelief. “*She’s* a dragon?”

“Guess so,” Lanaka replied, unrolling the scroll carefully. It was cracked in places, but she could just make out the words.

She read them, her voice hushed and reverent, and fell silent. But the girl was silent. Beside her, Vid sighed. “I don’t think it’s—”

Suddenly, the girl sat bolt upright, her eyes flying open to glow metal at them as she glared at Vidian and Lanaka. “Who are you?” There was a heavy accent on her words. Of course, Lanaka thought, the language had changed over time. But still, this girl was making a pretty fair attempt at it…too good, in fact.

“I’m Lanaka Amidefeu—”

She was cut off as the silver-haired creature waved a hand. “Ah! So you’re the one. Well, I’m most grateful to you,” and the girl smiled quite sweetly, though there was sadness in her eyes. “You look like my mother.”

“I’m sorry.” Lanaka said gently, for she had seen the grief flicker across the girl’s face.

“No, it’s...what is it you say? It’s OK?” The dragon-witch looked at her wryly. “It’s good...to know that she’s still alive in a way.”

Vidian had kept silent until now, but he couldn’t seem to contain himself. “Ms. Dragon? Uh...for someone who’s thirty thousand years out of date, you’re very coherent.”

She looked amused, almost queenly, and replied in an even voice. “Of course, I don’t suppose you would know. All my sleep, I dreamed of the outside world. I have seen a lot.” She smiled at Lanaka. “Your life. All of my family’s life. That is how I know your language and your history.”

Lanaka nodded quickly, her mind rearranging all her plans. “That makes things a lot easier. You’ll be able to fit in....”

“With your angels?” The girl asked. Her voice, Lanaka realised now, had no accent. The dragon had mimicked her voice until she had the same accent and inflections. No one would know that she was over thirty millennia old.

“Yes,” she said, ignoring Vid’s enquiring glance. He didn’t know about them. And now Lanaka would have to tell him something. “Do you have a name?”

The silver haired girl slid off the bed in one smooth movement. “Dragon Tiamat,” she said absently, glancing around with watchful eyes. “Show me your world then,” she said. “I’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

~*~

And that was how it had started.

They didn’t look alike, apart from the silver hair which both had, but even that was different; Dragon's hair curled wildly, whilst Lanaka's fell straight down her back, with just a vague wave at the ends. Otherwise, they were completely contrary; Lanaka was taller than Dragon by a few inches. She had the Harman purple eyes, from a male witch a few generations back and a gentle nature, slow to anger.

Where as Dragon's features were fine, delicately defined, her relative's blended harmoniously into one another. And Lanaka admitted ruefully, where Dragon was beautiful, she was merely plain.

"So, why has your day been so terrible?" she said, knowing that whatever it was, to get Dragon worked up so much, it was...it was going to be bad.

"It’s the latest mission. Shadow just told me, which is why I was so late. You aren't going to like it at all."

Lanaka stared at Dragon, surprised at how grim the 'shifter's face was. The skin was drawn tight over her delicate features, her eyes were angry, but resigned. She was in what Lanaka privately called her 'Doomcrow' mode. The witch felt her body tense involuntarily. She leaned forward and said urgently, "What is it?"