Chapter One

 

I was lying on my back in the emergency room of St. Lucia's Hospital, experiencing a vague sense of deja vu.  St. Lucia's was a large building, one of the few in Albuquerque that did not have a Southwest theme to it.  It was just big and blocky, a generic facility.  It was nice but it was still a hospital.  I have been in so many of them in the past four years that it had all blurred into a single experience. 

The last time had been for a beating I'd taken when I first came to New Mexico.  An ancient Aztec vampire that called itself the Red Woman's Husband had nearly killed me from a distance.  He'd roared over my mind and taken me.  I hadn't been able to stop him.  The vampire kidnapped me and would have drained my essence if Ramirez and the police hadn't shown up.

I was only in the state because of Edward.  A while back, Edward had come to my aid and brought his friend, Harley, as back up.  Long story short, I killed Harley in self-defense and Edward had taken it personally.  Edward offered me a choice: either he and I could draw down on each other and find out which one of us was better or I could owe him a favor.  I chose the favor and I am still alive to talk about it.  As fate would have it I was back in the hospital again and for a strangely normal reason.  I had a car accident on my way to see Edward.  He'd contracted a secondary infection from the substance the bad guy smeared on the stake.  Edward had relapsed the day that I planned to leave for home and I stayed to watch over him.  Donna and I took turns sitting by Edward's and Becca' beds.  After two days of doing absolutely nothing but worrying, I decided to make the most of it and rented a red convertible.

The hood had been crushed where I'd been broad sided by the speeding vehicle.  It looked like it was made of shiny paper instead of solid steel.  I had been going thirty-five miles an hour.  The other guy was going at least sixty and the wrong way down a one-way street.  Even though I had buckled up, my head almost went through the windshield when the drunk driver hit me.  I banged my head on the dashboard instead and bruised my side on the passenger's side door.

After the impact, I had crawled out of the car on my hands and knees, passed out on the side of the road for a few minutes, and then used the other driver's cell phone to call the ambulance.  The other driver was out cold, a crack in his front windshield and blood dripping from a severe head wound.  He died before the ambulance even got there.  I suspect that if I had not possessed the ability to heal at a fast rate that I would've died too.  I made it to the hospital in tact and felt fine but my vacation was ruined before it even began.

The emergency room that I was in was white and sterile.  There was a thick chair to my right and an empty bed to my left.  Machines surrounded both beds but seeing as how I wasn't connected to any, I couldn't complain.  Doctor Cunningham was not pleased to see me when he came in to treat my wounds.

"Dr. Cunningham.  Long time no see," I joked.  The good doctor flipped through my charts and adjusted his silver-rimmed glasses before addressing me.

"Ms. Blake, what happened to that vacation you were planning to take?"

"I am on vacation," I protested lamely.

The doctor shook his head and sighed. "I'd like for you to stay in the hospital for at least twenty-four hours for observation."

"All right," I said simply.  He raised his eyebrows at me and pulled a black penlight from his coat pocket.

"You're not going to argue with me?"

"Nope," I replied, shrugging.

Dr. Cunningham shone the light in my left eye.  I followed it as best as I could but found it difficult to focus.  Then he scribbled something down on my chart and handed it to a male nurse as he was leaving the room. 

"You must feel worse than I thought," he said evenly. "Now, get some rest.  That is not a request."

"I'm supposed to sleep?" I raised my eyebrows at him. "Aren't you afraid I'll slip into a coma?"

"You and I know that isn't a possibility," he said as he was walking out.  "But I'll have someone wake you up every hour on the hour just to be safe."

Falling asleep was not as difficult as I thought it would be.  Five minutes after the doctor left the room I was standing in the middle of a grassy field, looking towards a beautiful black-and-white stripped lighthouse.  The house sat on a green hill near cliffs that overlooked the sea.  It was very peaceful here.  I breathed in the salty ocean air and bathed in the sun's wonderful light.  I walked through the sea of green, picking flowers and humming as I went and then someone touched my hand.  I looked down to find a little blond boy standing there next to me.  He was no more than three and a half feet tall with dark blue eyes and purple eyelashes.  The curiosity that his bright blue eyes exuded seemed out of place on his cherubic face.

"You're here to kill it, aren't you?" he asked, tilting his head to study my reaction.

"I'm not here to kill anything," I frowned.

He shook his head stubbornly. "But you are. She said you were and she's never wrong."

"Who is never wrong?" I asked.

"The seer," a voice said in the distance.  I turned to see a little girl with wavy blond hair staring at me from near the lighthouse.  I blinked and she was right there next to the other child.  She took his hand possessively.  Her joyless sapphire eyes bearing into mine.

"What did she say I was here to kill?"

"The green-eyed dragon," she said seriously, pointing towards the darkening sky.     

Flying directly above our heads was a ferocious beast with brilliant emerald scales.  The scales went closer to true blue as the color moved up towards the head, until the square snout was the same color as the sky.  I'd seen this very dragon before.  Now it was sitting atop the lighthouse, red smoke billowing from its mouth.  It turned its head to stare at me and its round eyes glowed like burning coals.

"What does it want?"

"I think you already know," the girl said coldly.

I shook my head. "I don't.  I don't know what it wants."

"Hyoka," the children replied in unison.  The beast shrieked at the name and hurled itself towards as if to tear us to pieces.