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LENGTH: Full Novel
SENSUALITY: Carnal

Cover art (c) Vanessa Hawthorne 2006
ISBN 1-58608-977-3
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Bitten by a demon wolf, Mackenzie Wallace discovers that she has only two choices, neither of which appeal to her--she can remain a demon wolf and try to stay ahead of the hunters, or she can allow the Defender, Christopher, to turn her into something else--an Eskarian--an immortal being that's far too much like a vampire to suit her.

It isn't much of a choice really--she's already killed and she can't bear to live with what she's become, but although the dark, infinitely appealing and dangerous Christopher stirs her blood in a way she's never known before, she doesn't trust him. And she very quickly learns that that mistrust was not misplaced.

For she discovers once the strangely compelling Christopher has 'turned' her, he has also marked her as his own--his mate for life.

Rating: Contains graphic violence, adult language, and explicit sexual content.

SEVENTH DRAGON

By

Tyler Blackwood

© copyright October 2006 Tyler Blackwood

Cover art by Vanessa Hawthorne, © copyright October 2006

ISBN 1-58608-977-3

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's

imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or

events is merely coincidence.

Chapter One

Vashon Island, Washington October 2002

The Bermudan Water Dragon had taken a human life.

One minute the old man was standing, the next he was on the ground, gasping for air, gnarled fingers clutching his bloodied neck. Whatever breath he'd had caught in his throat and then he died.

The dragon had been fast. Though several people milled about farther down the rocky shoreline, no one saw the small, scaly creature explode from beneath the water's surface. No one saw the razor-sharp talons breach the man's neck to take what it needed.

No one but Christopher Bartholomew.

Most of the time, the dragons hunted near the Pacific coast, far from where they were now. Why this small school had ventured into the Puget Sound, he didn't know. Didn't care either. That they were here was enough. They'd already been deemed threats to humanity, so his duty was clear.

Eliminate the threat. Permanently.

He'd been waiting for this particular dragon, the leader of the school, to make a mistake. They were intelligent, but not infallible. It took a few nights, but his patience finally paid off, and now the damn thing was dead.

Christopher was pissed off anyway. He should've been faster. If he hadn't been tired and distracted by a hundred other things, maybe the old man wouldn't have died.

Maybe. Who knew? Maybe it was just the old man's time and nothing would've made a difference. Christopher let out a small snort. Yeah, right.

Reaching into the pocket of his rain coat, he pulled out his cell phone and punched in the number for his commanding officer. "I'm done. The dragon's dead," he said after Blair picked up. "Some other dragon has already assumed the lead and now they're heading out toward the ocean. I suspect we won't see them for some time."

"Excellent. Well done, Christopher."

Christopher mentally shrugged. He'd been doing this so long, the accolades really meant very little. His gaze dropped to the dragon. "Yeah, thanks."

"I've got one more job for you," Blair said. "That demon wolf you were tracking was seen near the marina just before dawn this morning. Find it, kill it, and you can call knock off early. Sounds like you need it."

"Maybe." And do what? "I'm close to the marina, but I left my bow at the house. Can you have someone bring it to me? I still need to get rid of the dragon carcass."

"I'll be there in a few minutes."

Christopher snapped the phone shut and tucked it back into his pocket.

Closing his eyes, he called his telekinetic energies into focus. Summoning the fire was difficult and exhausting at times, but necessary. It wouldn't do to have humans discover a slain Water Dragon. There would be too many questions, too many investigations. Too many ways for them to overlook important details and make a wrong decision. Better they not know about this hidden world. Easier for everyone.

He inhaled deeply, then turned his energies outward.

The dragon's body exploded in a single, white-hot flash. Christopher took a step back, pulled dark sunglasses from his coat pocket and put them on. The fire consumed the dragon in less than a second--before anyone even noticed--reducing it to soft, gray ash.

His people were dedicated to the destruction of the myriad unnatural threats to humans, like water dragons, demon wolves, and a thousand other beings, all determined to destroy mankind or the planet.

The battle was always waiting.

And he was always ready. Had been now, for over two hundred years.

He bent to rinse off his dagger in the salty black water of Puget Sound. Sore muscles protested the move, but he ignored them. An early night, an old movie, maybe a small pot of Livendium to soothe his mind as well as his body, and he'd be good as new. Probably.

"Nice work."

Christopher sheathed his blades and faced his commander. "That was quick."

Blair approached with Christopher's old wooden bow and quiver in his hands. He nodded toward the thicket of trees just to the west. "I was at the park. Anastasia's got the grandkids today. I'm trying to help without getting in her way."

Funny thought, considering Blair looked like every other thirty-year-old man, save for, maybe, the shoulder-length black hair. Never mind that he was really as old as time itself.

"You actually left your bow at my place yesterday," he continued. "It's not like you to forget things like this. How are you feeling?"

Christopher shrugged and took the bow. The quiver he slung over his shoulder. "I'm fine."

Blair nodded, scanning the surface of the water. "Sure you are. Let me see what I can do to arrange some time off. I think it's time you took a little vacation. Maybe take a trip somewhere. Go do something fun."

Christopher thought about that. "I guess I could do that." He scanned the calm waters of Puget Sound and drank in the transient calmness of the moment. A wisp of dark hair wafted over his eyes, carried by the afternoon breeze. Absently, he pushed it aside and scanned the ground. The shadows had become very long. Nightfall approached.

Soon, they would awaken.

He huffed out a breath. All he did was think about this threat or that one, or like now, what the time was. When would the demon wolves awaken? He was always scanning his surroundings, searching for something out of place. Waiting for water dragons or sand demons or even that Black Diamond witch, who had some weird thing for Joshua. "Yeah." He nodded. "I really should go somewhere."

"You should. I know how hard you've been working." Blair returned his obsidian gaze to Christopher. Sunlight caught in his eyes, highlighting the silver iridescent rings at the outer edges of his irises, one of several unique attributes of their kind.

Christopher instinctively pushed his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. Those rings were visible only in bright light, and while he didn't expect to see any humans before the sun set, it was better to not risk exposure like that. Glowing eyes did not sit well with most people.

In fact, some got quite upset. Christopher was used to it, of course. He'd been hiding the glow in his own eyes since he became immortal--an Eskarian--two hundred and twenty nine years ago.

"You know what I'd like to do? Take off on a month-long cruise to Alaska," he said, not waiting for Blair to answer. "Just Ivan and me, for at least a month. No, make that six months. We'd do the inside passage. He'd love it."

Blair smiled. "I'll bet. Sounds like a good time."

"Yeah, it does." Christopher plucked a toothpick from his shirt pocket, popped it into his mouth, and thought about the Siberian Husky he'd rescued as a pup. Ivan's former owner had lost a battle with a demon wolf two years ago. Christopher couldn't bear to see the little guy homeless, so he'd taken in the small black and white pup, given him a name, and built an elaborate house for him.

Never mind that Ivan slept with Christopher most of the time.

"Wouldn't it be cool to just drop everything and go without telling a soul?" He waved away thoughts of responsibility and duty. Protection. His life as a Defender wasn't much of a life, truth be told, but pride filled him when he thought about the human lives he'd saved.

It was an honorable life, but he was tired.

Christopher's gaze swung to a sailboat gliding out from the harbor. "You know, I can't keep fighting like this much longer, Blair," Christopher admitted. "The demon wolves alone breed like rabbits. Have you noticed that? I feel like I'm fighting a battle I can't win. It's starting to wear on me." He shook his head. "It was easier when they weren't so smart. Easier when they just morphed into animals at sunset. Now that they keep their human intelligence and emotion, it just takes too long to chase them down. What's worse, every time I corner one, I hear the human thoughts inside the wolf. I hear him plead for his life. It's difficult, even when I know that wolf has been killing humans. It's a hundred times worse when I know it's a woman."

Blair sighed. "I understand completely. Several Defenders from other regions have complained. They feel the same as you. The wolves are taking more and more of our resources. I've already put out a call for volunteers. Griffin, Jason, Alex, and Michael have responded. They should be arriving over the next few days. Randy and Aaron will come from Canada in a week or two. Unfortunately, I still need you here a little bit longer."

Christopher shook his head and smiled. "Sucks to be me."

The demon wolf population was more concentrated in the Pacific Northwest than other parts of the country. Christopher's elite position in the Defender ranks was unchallenged, so it was logical that he'd have to remain and finish the job. Damn it.

He spat the toothpick into the black water.

Blair continued. "The sooner we can exterminate these wolves, the better off we'll all be--and the sooner you and Ivan can take that trip. Right now, we need your speed to gain an advantage over them. Once all the boys are here, you'll work in teams, at least for the next few days. I want you to pair up with Griffin." Blair paused and held up one hand. "I know what you're thinking, but I need you two to work together. You're both fast and accurate hunters. Our best. Set aside your differences for a little while. Let's see if we can wrap up this problem once and for all."

"Sure," Christopher said with a grim smile. He glanced at the bow, which had been carved in Rome a thousand years ago. Arden's Bow, named after the original owner, had seen enough blood and death over the centuries to last an eternity, much like its current owner.

Christ, he didn't want to work with Griffin. Not now. Griffin McCallum was difficult to handle on a good day. On a bad day, forget it.

"Just make sure he keeps his yap shut. I'm in no mood for his blather," he added.

Blair nodded. "Understood. You know he won't, though. He only listens to Ian. I have control of him when he tolerates it, but that's seldom."

Christopher looked away. "Yeah, I know." Great. How many days would this hunt take? Like it mattered. Five minutes with Griffin was too much.

He removed a small wooden pipe and plastic baggie from the pocket of his black raincoat. Pulling out a few silver-tipped Livendium leaves from the baggie, he stuffed the pipe and lit the leaves with his telekinetics. The herb was cultivated as a tool to center the mind and body, prepare for battle, and sharpen telepathic ability. He liked that it also dissolved the little worries that pestered him from time to time. Like demon wolves who thought they were clever enough to escape a Defender.

He inhaled deeply. The spicy-sweet fragrance, a mixture of sage and mint, drifted in long smoky tendrils around him. His body quickly accepted the soothing elements of the herb, and, a moment later, he relaxed. Even his sore muscles felt better. He closed his eyes while he exhaled. "You know, for two days now, I've hunted that same wolf. I can't believe the damn thing got away again last night. I don't know where my head has been."

"I'm sure you'll get it tonight." Blair paused and thought for a moment. "Have I ever mentioned that Jason said you'd end up to be one of our best warriors? He said that just after he started your training."

"You might've said something about it once or twice." Or ten times. Christopher drew on his pipe again and blew out a small smoke ring. Then he blew out a larger ring to encompass the smaller one and grinned at the results.

"It's a remarkable feat that you did it in only two hundred years."

Christopher shrugged again. "It's nothing, really."

Blair's eyebrows shot up. "Ah, but it is. Nonetheless, I know how tired you are. As soon as I'm able, I'll rotate you out to somewhere more sedate. Until then, Griffin and the others will do what they can to help." He placed his hand on Christopher's shoulder and offered a paternal smile. "I need to use you while I can. It won't always be like this."

"I'm sure." Christopher nodded, not really feeling sure at all. "Do you remember the Priestess of Aulterran?" He paused and thought about the vicious battle between the beautiful enchantress and him. Her long fingers, tipped with retractable needle-like extensions, were lethal and fast. Good thing he'd been faster.

"How could I forget? Her idea of fun was bleeding the life-force from humans."

"Yeah, that's right." He glanced at the once-intricate carvings on the old bow, twirling it around absently. "Before I took out her heart, she told me I wouldn't always be alone."

Blair chuckled. "Of course not. Given your life span, it's hardly logical that you'd never find a mate."

"Maybe, but that was almost a hundred years ago and I've never come across anyone who did anything more than excite my hormones. How do you know I'll find her? Isn't it possible that some people are meant to be alone?"

Blair tilted his head. "Do you really think that?"

"I don't know. Maybe." He paused then let out a snort. "I don't even know what I would do with myself if I wasn't a Defender. It's been my life for over two hundred years. I can't imagine waking up next to someone now."

"The day will come when you can't imagine not waking up next to someone."

Christopher paused to consider Blair's words. "I can't see it. I wish I could, though. I really do."

Blair scanned the shimmering water. "The day will come, Christopher. Have faith in the gods."

Christopher waved dismissively. He'd already lost faith in the creative forces they referred to as gods. "We'll see, I guess." The long shadows told him the sun was about to set.

Time for another battle.

He lifted his boot and tapped the pipe against it to empty the spent contents. "Time for you to go. Anastasia would bleed me dry if anything were to happen to you."

Blair chuckled. "She probably would. Very well, then. I'll leave you to your work." He touched Christopher's shoulder then hurried back toward the park.

Christopher's gaze lingered on Blair. The elder Eskarian had been the commander of the Defender forces for as long as anyone could remember. His authority was unquestioned and absolute. They all depended on him to keep the Defender ranks in order and functioning efficiently. Christopher hoped that never changed.

After all, Griffin was second in command. If Blair ever passed the torch to Griffin, Christopher would leave Service in a heart beat. Hell would freeze over before he ever answered to Griffin. No way.

Griffin affected most everyone like that, except maybe old Nic. These days, no one saw much of Dominic De Santo. Just as well. If Griffin was abrasive, Nic gave caustic new meaning.

Screw 'em. They could both rot.

Christopher stuffed the warm pipe into the back pocket of his faded blue jeans. He turned up the collar of his black raincoat and brushed a wayward strand of hair from his eyes.

Minutes remained. Despite the peaceful appearance of the island, the setting sun brought out some truly dangerous creatures.

Like him. Like Demon wolves.

Human by day, wolf by night. They sought human blood, sometimes banding together to take down a group of unwary travelers. Given the freedom, the wolf could take one, sometimes two human lives per night. Christopher's job was to stop the wolf before that happened.

He dropped into a crouch, leaning against the bow to wait for the wolves to awaken.

Moments later, his extraordinary hearing picked up the muffled cry of a man in pain.

The nightly transformation from human to wolf had begun.

Christopher sprang to his feet and whirled toward the sound, knowing that he had only seconds to catch the creature before it vanished into the woods.

Ensuring his dagger was safely sheathed and secured to his belt, he headed toward the cry. The sound was faint, subdued. Demon wolves knew they were hunted, condemned creatures--at least the seasoned ones did. They knew they had precious little time to complete the terrible transformation from human to animal before a Defender came.

The man's cry set the nearby dogs to barking, a stark reminder that time raced against him. Humans lived in the surrounding homes. Families.

Only moments later, the wolf howled.

Following the sound, Christopher sifted through the brush beneath maple and fir trees for shredded clothes and blood, signs of the human's painful transformation.

A change in the wind allowed him to catch the wolf's scent. He spun to follow it toward the water's edge. The beast had doubled back and Christopher suspected it would use the water to hide its scent. An Eskarian's sense of smell was so highly developed tracking the creature would not be difficult, even through water.

He raced for the harbor over fallen trees, soft ferns and leaves. Twigs snapped beneath his boots, pine needles stung his face as he shot past. He soared over a fallen tree, startling two deer who hadn't heard his rapid approach.

Seconds later, he burst through the dense forest onto the rocky shoreline.

He skidded to a halt, kicking up a rooster tail of dirt, rock and shells. The wolf wasn't on the waterfront as he'd suspected and now the scent was gone.

Christopher had made a novice's mistake and lost his target.

"Damn it," he whispered. Another mistake. He hissed in a breath and chastised himself again for being so tired.

Get over it. Find the wolf.

He turned an ear to listen for new evidence that would give away the wolf's position. If he didn't find it quickly, the next sound would be someone choking to death, caught in the powerful jaws of a wolf whose need for blood and soft flesh overwhelmed reason and logic.

The soft rustle of grass and dead leaves caught Christopher's attention.

Shit.

The wolf had already attacked. He swung toward the sound, which came from a waterfront house set back into a natural landscape of trees, bushes and ferns. With preternatural speed, he rushed into the forest surrounding the house and once again found the acrid scent of the wolf. Rounding the corner of the house, he caught another smell. Blood. The beast had killed.

He saw in the middle of the yard-a tall gray wolf.

He was too late.

"Damn it!" He slammed back against the wall in anger and shoved strands of dark hair from his eyes. Not again.

He peered around the corner. The wolf had indeed made the kill and was now feeding from the body of a young woman.

There was just no way to keep up. They really were losing the battle.

The attack had been quick. The woman's face was calm, her glazed eyes cast upwards, as if she hadn't seen what was coming.

Which meant this was a seasoned wolf, one that had learned how to survive and evade Defenders.

Until tonight.

No way in hell was this thing getting away this time.

Without a sound, he slipped the bow off his shoulder and pulled an arrow from the quiver. Drawing it back, he stretched the bowstring, and stepped away from the house. He aimed carefully at the center of the wolf's body.

"Amy? Where are you?"

Christopher tensed at the sound of the woman's voice. He lowered the bow, retreating into the shadows.

She appeared on the other side of the house, dressed in torn jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, concern etched on her face as she searched for Amy. She was tall and her fluid movements stole his complete attention. She walked from the porch toward the thick canopy of tree--toward the wolf. Wisps of long black hair danced about her pale face. She was exquisite.

He leaned against the house as something--with a fierce, dark hunger--inside him awoke.

"Jesus," he whispered, shocked by his reaction to the woman. Who was she?

Peering around the corner again, he watched her walk out into the open yard. The wolf and its victim were farther into the shadows, but it wouldn't be long before she saw it.

More importantly, it would be only seconds before the wolf saw her.

Amy had been the first kill of the night. Now the woman who searched for her was in danger. The wolf would likely see Amy's friend as an easy meal and take it.

Christopher closed his eyes and forced himself to focus on the task, forced his emotions back to sleep.

He stepped out, once again, from the protection of the shadows.

The wolf raised its head, licking its bloodstained mouth. Black eyes focused on the unsuspecting woman.

Powerful legs lunged toward her.

Christopher raised the bow, took aim and released. The white arrow struck the animal's back, hurling it onto its side. Angered, hurting, the wolf tried to rip out the arrow with strong jaws, but Christopher's aim had been precise and calculated. That arrow wasn't going to move.

The woman's gaze shot to the wolf. She gasped, stumbled back, and covered her mouth with both hands.

The noise drew the wolf's attention again. Rising up on its forelegs, the animal dragged its weakened hind legs in pursuit, teeth bared in preparation for the attack.

She screamed, spun on her heel and fled.

Good. Now he could finish the job and get the hell out of here.

Christopher drew another arrow and nocked it. He carefully aimed for the wolf's throat and released. The arrow struck its target perfectly, pinning the wolf to the ground. Blood, oozing from the new wound, pooled at the base of its neck. He slipped the wooden bow over his shoulder and trotted to the downed demon creature. Poised behind it, he removed his forked dagger from the sheath. The long, engraved blades were used to cut and separate the demon wolf's head from the body, the only way to ensure they remained dead. Without a head, they'll stay dead.

"Get away from that wolf."

Christopher looked up. The woman had returned, a rifle in her hands.

He met her gaze. "This isn't a wolf. It's an aberration of nature."

She peered over the sights of the rifle. "Then I want to study it."

Christopher shook his head. "I can't allow that."

"Allow? You're on my property. I don't give a rip what you think you should allow. Step away from the wolf, or you get the tranquilizer dart. Your choice."

He looked at her in disbelief. "Look, I really need to finish this."

"Fine." She took aim and fired the rifle.