Authors: Jodie B. Cooper
Tags: #young adult, #paranormal romance, #hea, #dragons, #romance, #fantasy, #adventure, #zombies, #shape shifters, #teen love
Exile: The Prequel
Sídhí Summer Camp #3
By Jodie B. Cooper
Book Blurb
Dead bodies, explosions, and monsters within the first week of summer camp created the perfect playground for the Khr'Vurr, Dragon Valley's resident terrorist organization.
Keeping her true nature carefully hidden, ice-cold assassin, Lady Sarah Trellick, reluctantly agrees to play the dragon's game of cat and mouse, all the while searching for a way to protect her home valley.
During the dangerous game, she grows ever desperate for Nick, the mate her Sídhí blood picked as her soul mate, a mate that hates her.
Time is running out.
_______________
Exile: The Prequel
is the first 23,800 words of Sarah’s story (Sídhí Summer Camp series #3 - coming fall 2013). It contains minor curse words and sexual innuendo. 16+ is the recommended reading age.
The prequel is
not
a complete story. It will (most likely) end in a cliffhanger. ;)
It does contain spoilers for books #1 and #2 in the Sídhí Summer Camp series.
Table of Contents: Exile
Excerpt - Forbidden Temptation of a Vampire
(267 words)
Sídhí Glossary
- 1,900 words
Prologue - Dragon Council Proclamation
In order to remain undetected by mundane humans on Earth, The Dragon High Council has decided peace between the Sídhí races is critical.
Therefore, all Sídhí Valleys will participate in a summer camp hosted by Dragon Valley. It is believed the unique blending of races within the summer camp will achieve the first step toward peace.
Participants shall include the eldest two teenage children (or direct descendants) of each council member. Participation in the Peace Camp is not optional. If any Sídhí Valley refuses to participate, all known gateways within that valley will be shut down immediately.
NOTE: A copy of this proclamation has been dispatched to the governmental bodies of all known Sídhí valleys.
Chapter - Dragon Fury
Gloom surrounded the underground lake, mirroring Clarabelle’s grief. Rage turned her soft hazel eyes ruby red. Deep in her throat, deadly dragonfire sparked to life.
“The life of a dragon, any dragon, is worth ten thousand of the filthy interlopers,” the mighty dragon muttered to herself. Her bone-deep growl of fury emphasized her words. Smoke trickled out of her snout. The gut-deep hatred, which had simmered through her blood for years, blazed through the dark gray dragon.
Clarabelle’s beloved half-sister no longer answered her mental touch. Among hundreds of half-siblings, Ella had been her favorite. The powerful dragon had not only been her sister, but a key player in Clarabelle’s plan to return dragons to their rightful glory. Reality was a bitter pill to swallow. Ella had been a dragon with the ability to make her human body appear young or old. Replacing such a powerful ally would prove difficult.
Her roar of pain echoed across the vast underground cavern, demanding vengeance for the loss of her sister.
Clarabelle swung her head around, searching for her prey. A single, slow beat of mighty wings kept her hovering high above the brackish lake. The tips of her wings brushed the ceiling, waking the glow moss. A splotchy carpet of moss, covering the stalactites, bloomed to life filling the cavern with a bright pink glow.
A hundred feet below, on the edge of the shore, stood her enemy. Uncaring to the hideous crime they had committed against the Khr'Vurr, dragon-kind’s greatest warriors.
Determination flowed through her body, enhancing her bloodthirsty vow of vengeance. She couldn’t wait for their screams of pain to begin. She swore the teenagers would not receive a quick death at her hands. She wanted them to suffer, just as she was suffering.
“I’ll rip them into pieces for what they’ve done,” she passionately insisted to herself, hatred toward the teenagers and the Dragon Council crashed through her like a surging river of fire. Her mind replayed her sister’s final scream, the agony filled sound echoed through her.
Clarabelle’s body trembled. She fought to pull herself together. Now was not the time to lose it, not in front of the ones who were responsible. Later, in the safety of her mate’s fortress, she would allow herself the time to grieve. Not now.
Along with the horror of the day remained a single glaring question.
How could her sister have died at the hands of a couple of teenagers? It seemed impossible that two brats cuffed in silver had killed a full-grown Sídhí, much less a dragon.
The answer was blatantly clear. The brats must’ve had help.
She surged forward as warm liquid gushed up her throat. Dragonfire, the most glorious weapon of all dragon kind was incredibly unstable. It was the deadliest weapon in a dragon's arsenal. All Sídhí races feared the destructive fire. The fire’s incredible molten heat burned through nearly anything it touched, including solid rock and even steel.
Flame exploded from her gaping jaws, burning a reddish-orange with the faintest of blue laced throughout. The deep colors hinted at her age, growing stronger year after year.
The teenagers screamed in fear, running toward the unforgiving wall of the cavern.
Clarabelle’s eyes sparkled with a combination of unsuppressed glee and hatred, gloating over their screams of terror. Excitement, as the hunt began, rippled down her back, causing the black spikes buried along her spine to burst upward, quivering in anticipation.
She grieved for her sister, but Clarabelle’s heart sang in joy over the fear she produced within the young Sídhí. Their screams created a fuzzy warm glow within her, reminding her of the numerous villages she torched during earth’s medieval age, a time before the Dragon Council destroyed the dragon’s true place in the world.
She missed the old days so badly. The depressing thought actually perked her up, because if everything worked out as planned, the summer camp would be the first step toward returning to those joyful years of terror, but not on Earth. That was truly the sweetest part. Why should dragons be stuck on a world the mundane humans had mucked-up with billions of offspring?
She surged forward. Black spikes running up her back quivered under the cave’s soft light. Her burning red eyes sparkled with cruel anticipation.
The teenagers ran faster, darting farther away from the shoreline toward a tumble of rocks, trying to escape her retaliation. They wouldn't succeed.
Then she noticed what, or rather who, they raced toward. A man sprawled on a ledge. She snorted her ridicule. Instead of seeking shelter, they stopped to help a third person, destroying any chance of escaping her. Only Clan fools would do something so ‘honorable’ as risk their life for another.
Clarabelle narrowed her sparkling red eyes as the pink light of glow moss glinted off the man’s smooth head.
The image stuck in her brain, repeating itself. The injured man did not have any hair.
“Filthy, wretched dragon guardian,” she growled in recognition of the man. Somehow, the brats had freed her prized prisoner, the arrogant Guardian Alexander. He was a prize she had planned to use in her bid to overthrow the stagnate council of elders.
She roared her displeasure. Dark fury splintered through every inch of her body, erupting in a flashy burst of dragonfire. Before she could contain it, fire spewed from her throat in a torrent of burning flame.
A third teenager suddenly appeared on the rocky shore, teleporting into the cavern without warning.
The new arrival, a tall young woman, seemed overly calm. The absurd over-sized t-shirt didn’t detract from her beauty. The man’s shirt actually enhanced the girl’s unearthly appearance. Her long hair swung around her as she stepped between Clarabelle and her prey.
The mighty dragon was very familiar with the third girl who ported into the cave. Sun-reddened vampire eyes and shocking pale hair gave the lethal freak an edge at frightening her intended victims that Clarabelle’s human form could never achieve.
Clarabelle suddenly grinned. Eagerness filled her at the thought of killing this particular vampire, a stuck-up half-breed from the Dhark Valley. Half elf, half vampire, the Lady Sarah Trellick was an oddity among the teenage campers. The weird combination of the girl’s youth combined with ancient eyes made the gray dragon nervous, not that Clarabelle would ever admit that to anyone.
Honestly. The girl was a freak of nature, moving with the grace of someone several thousand years old as if the very act of walking was a dance. Even the other teenagers, straight from the Dhark Empire, gave the freak a wide berth. The white-haired witch knew things no simple vampire had the right, or the ability, to know.
Clarabelle tilted her head, highly amused as she watched Sarah raise a useless clear shield. The big dragon snorted in contempt.
The girl held a small piece of flimsy armor made of a semi-translucent substance against dragonfire. What a laugh.
Though, Clarabelle had to admit, the shield probably wasn’t flimsy. The little shield had to be synth crystal if the girl was trying to protect herself with it. The shield itself would be impenetrable, even to dragonfire, but hiding behind it was an act of supreme stupidity. Only an idiot would think a shield that small could provide any protection against the deadly fire Clarabelle carried within her.
The shield began to grow.
Shock slammed through Clarabelle’s body, raising the short spikes along her spine to stiff attention.
The small shield expanded outward, growing thinner as it shaped itself into a dome, enclosing Sarah and the three people positioned behind her within a protective shell of living crystal.
Impossible! The mighty dragon hissed to herself. No one had the ability to shape synth crystal, the world’s purest form of energy.
That’s when reality smacked Clarabelle in the snout. Had she been in her human form, she might've collapsed to her knees. As it was, the air froze in her lungs and fear burst through her massive body. She shuddered, sucking in a huge gulp of stagnate air as fear morphed into something darker, more terrifying than she ever dreamed possible.
Still, her mind shied away from the obvious conclusion of who, of what, Sarah had to be.
She surged forward, bellowing her anger and her fear in the form of burning dragonfire, expelling the flame as hard as she could.
The curling flames hit the translucent dome. The strong blast of dragonfire encased the surface, surrounded the globe. The volatile weapon of fire melted rocks on either side of the paper-thin dome, turning the ancient boulders to lava. Liquid rock streamed across the sand.
Seconds later, Clarabelle stopped blasting them. Sucking in a breath of air, she readied herself to hit them again.
The teenage couple showed the appropriate fear of her magnificent dragonfire. The boy roared in helpless anger, putting his body in front of the girl. The girl screamed in terror.
Sarah? The long-legged freak appeared arrogantly pleased.
Clarabelle waited too long before launching her second attack. Later, she realized the length of time she wasted had made no difference to the outcome. Clarabelle had been screwed from the very beginning.
The achingly cold features of the beautiful young woman slowly changed, morphing from bored aristocrat to enchanting ice princess. A slight smile graced Sarah’s elegant features. Her vivid Caribbean blue eyes sparkled, reflecting the pink glow of the ceiling. Flushed with excitement, the half-breed looked straight into Clarabelle’s eyes.
Sarah's reaction turned Clarabelle’s blood to ice.
The dragon soon understood why no person on Earth could have evaded the swift attack.
Sarah moved with the lethal grace of a born killer. The teenager formed a single javelin out of a source of synth crystal Clarabelle couldn't detect.
The simple act confirmed the dragon’s fear. Only a single person had the ability to manipulate raw synth crystal. Sarah was Chi'Kehra, the long awaited supreme ruler of the elves. She could pull synth crystal from any source, whether it was from the earth or from the girl’s own blood.
Sarah reared back and threw the spear at Clarabelle. The dome never wavered. The spear travelled through the dome and arched across the cavern.
She didn't have time to dodge the missile. The sharp projectile slammed into her chest, breaking through a thick layer of dragon scales. The spear sank into her chest. A second and third shaft of crystal followed. Razor-sharp tips ripped through her body, rupturing vital organs.
She roared. Pain consumed her. Dragonfire uselessly scorched the air as she madly twisted in midair, trying to rip the javelins out of her chest.
With her last coherent thought, Clarabelle focused her mind, frantically searching for the mental signature of her mate.
Through their lifeBond, his terror slammed into her, distracting her for a heartbeat.
Her mind latched onto his mental signal and she ported to his location, not caring who might see. She appeared under the brilliant blue sky less than thirty feet from him.
Her mate's fury scorched Clarabelle’s mind, rushing through her like a living flame, hotter than her own fury had been.
She bellowed in agony, clutching at the spears jutting out of her chest. Blood gushed over her claws. Her body constricted. Her failing heart fluttered, skipping unevenly. Her gaze dimmed and she crashed to the ground. Pain exploded through her.
Terror, not her own, flooded her as her mate caressed her mind with his urgent demand for her to hold on, ordering her not to die.