American Dragons series Box Set

by Aaron Crash

  The reality was, even if Mulk didn’t attack her family, Jared’s disease would eventually take him away. It was hard to think about that. Every second with her brother was precious.

  And she was determined to give him as much time as possible to enjoy life. Jared loved his video games, every flavor of ice cream, movies, and dogs. The entire neighborhood was required to bring their pets around so Jared could pet them. The look on his face when a cat curled up in his lap to purr was priceless. He’d already been dealt a crappy hand. She needed to keep him safe.

  They had to end Mulk and his threat of violence. But how? That was the real question. They needed a secret weapon.

  No. With the Terror Trio in the mix? They needed a miracle.

  If only her leg didn’t hurt so much...

  Chapter Seven

  STEVEN WOKE UP IN THE loft above the Coffee Clutch. It was past midnight and the place was closed, but he smelled coffee. Rich, bold, enticing. Eduardo had been cool about letting them stay in the single-room apartment with a bathroom the size of a closet. The shower hung over the toilet and drained right into the floor. That sucked because now that they’d showered, the floor was wet, so when you went to the bathroom, you’d get your feet wet. Clammy cold feet in the middle of the night made you want to reevaluate your life choices.

  But not Steven. Though they’d lost everything, including Mouse, he was determined to rebuild everything, bigger and better. This time, it would be his—not some hand-me-down from his dead father. And with Aria curled up next to him for warmth, he’d never felt better. It was a tight fit in the room and on the bed, but the three had been so tired, they’d made it work.

  Steven reached for Tessa. She wasn’t there.

  He slipped off the bed and knocked into a little table that held a microwave and a hotplate. Not much of a kitchen. The only sink was in the bathroom, and it was a tiny corner thing. The place was clean, though. Donny might’ve had a little drug problem, but he was the neatest junky there ever was.

  Steven crept down the twisting staircase and into the storage room and then out behind the bar. Tessa was there, at the espresso machine.

  He took a moment to just stare at her—appreciate her. She’d grabbed an oversize T-shirt to sleep in, and though it was basically formless fabric, he could see the curve of her hips and the poke of her nipples. Her calves were so shapely above her cute feet. Her toenails were painted black, but she’d decorated them with speckles like stars.

  A chain of roses circled her left leg while on her right was the Ace bandage covering the burns. He could still see the Celtic patterns rising up from her ankle though. They curled up past her knee and ended at her hip. He hadn’t asked her yet what some of her tattoos meant. Ink was a very personal thing. Her hair was pulled up out of her face and he could see where she’d shaved it above her left ear. While she brewed up her coffee, she had the Drokharis Grimoire open next to her and was studying it intently.

  Steven was brought back to all the millions of times he’d studied her while she worked, trying not to stare, looking at her and then glancing away so she wouldn’t notice. Now, he could lean against the wall and look as much as he wanted. He wore the khaki slacks, which he couldn’t button, but the zipper managed to hold them up.

  Tessa turned. There were tears on her face.

  Steven went quickly to her, taking her hand. “Tessa, what’s wrong?”

  “I hurt,” she whispered. “I hurt so fucking much. I rummaged around for where Eduardo generally keeps his edibles, but he’s out. The Advil is stupid. I don’t want to wimp out, but there’s no way I can sleep with the burns on my leg.”

  “Let’s take you to Denver Health,” Steven said. “They can give you something for the pain.”

  “We’re hiding out,” Tessa said. “We don’t know if Mulk has contacts there. No, it’s safer if I stay here and just deal. I’ve been going over the grimoire. It’s a great primer, but I think there are other books. At least two more volumes. Your dad was smart. He wasn’t going to put everything in one volume. But the thing is, they wouldn’t really help if you didn’t have the grimoire. Also, where it talks about other books, there’s a blank passage. It’s totally strange. It’s like someone erased a whole paragraph.”

  “I noticed that,” Steven said. “I tried pressing the topaz pen there, but nothing happened. Did you try?”

  Tessa nodded. “I did. If only we could find those other books. It might solve the mystery of the missing paragraph.”

  Steven listened intently. He was looking for a secret weapon against Mulk. Modern Dragonsouls shied away from magic and had chosen to embrace modern technologies instead. Except for Stefan Drokharis. And it seemed he’d paid the price for his rebellious spellcasting.

  “Let’s have you sit down,” Steven said. “And no coffee for you. I know you think caffeine doesn’t affect you, but I’m not going to take that chance.”

  “It was half-caf,” Tessa protested weakly. She walked around the bar and sat down at a table. She lifted her leg gingerly and rested it on another chair with a pained wince.

  Steven grabbed the book and brought it with him. So far, he’d only been able to cast the most basic shield spell. The healing spells were still out of his reach.

  But that needed to change. Now. Tessa was suffering—a member of his Escort was suffering—and he had the power to change it.

  First, he gently undid the bandage covering Tessa’s leg. The skin was bright red, blistered, and angry. Burns were an insidious type of injury because infection was always such a threat.

  Tessa turned her head. “This is so embarrassing. I feel so ugly.” She pressed her eyes closed as though she couldn’t bear to look. “If only I could heal myself.”

  “We’ll get there,” Steven said. He thought self-healing was possible at upper levels. But he wasn’t sure. Just like he didn’t know why his shield didn’t work against the Magician’s magic missiles and the green dragon’s fire. Fuck, there was so much he still didn’t understand.

  Steven grabbed a chair and slid it over. He opened the grimoire on his lap and skipped pages until he found the Veneficium section after taking a quick peek at the skill tree.

  <<<>>>

  <<<>>>

  THE RIGHT WING OF THE dragon mapped out the basic spell abilities. Steven focused on the Cura spell. His Animus was low, though. He could manage a shield spell but not a new form of magic. He’d leveled up, which seemed to increase the amount of Animus he could hold and focus at any given point, but he wasn’t clear on how levels affected spellcasting. Or even if they affected spellcasting. For all he knew, a Level One could cast Porta spells, which seemed to be the highest class of spell. Sure, that was probably unlikely, but he couldn’t say with any certainty.

  “Hold on,” Steven said. He hurried through the coffee shop and back up to the loft. He bent and kissed Aria’s cheek. “I need you. Tessa needs you.”

  Aria was awake in seconds. Her hand went between his legs. She expertly drew him out of the tight pants.

  Steven sucked in a breath. He stood up as she shifted in the bed to take him in her mouth. Then it was heaven in her hand, in her mouth, until he found himself on the edge.

  Aria stopped. “Is it her burns? Are you going to try and heal her?”

  “I am,” Steven said.

  “That’s powerful magic,” she replied. “Let’s go downstairs.”

  Aria was naked, but Steven had to squeeze out of the khakis. Naked, both descended the stairs. Tessa had taken over studying the book, clearly trying to ignore her wounds. When she saw them, she smiled. “You both look so hot. I might be able to forget about the pain just watching you. Good idea, Steven!”

  “It’s not just that. I have to heal you. Have to.” Steven led Aria to a table. She climbed on top of it on all fours. She stuck her ass into the air as a clear invitation.

  Steven took a minute to admire her shapely curves and the hidden folds of her sex, which were getting warm, wet, and ready for him.


  The shades had been pulled over the window, so no one would be able to see them.

  Steven pulled Aria’s thighs apart and licked her softly. In no time, he had her wiggling against him.

  Tessa maneuvered around so she could kiss Aria while teasing her breasts. Aria couldn’t wait. “Now, Steven. I’m so hot. I need it now.”

  “Music to my ears,” he quipped. He helped her off the table, and she bent over it, legs spread.

  Tessa was there, her eyes glittering like diamonds.

  Steven gazed into the barista’s face while he entered Aria, who gasped. “Yes, that’s it. I love you in me, Steven. I love it so much.”

  “Powering up never felt so good,” Tessa said in a sultry voice. She sat down on a chair, pulled up her dress, and touched herself as she watched Steven slide in and out of Aria.

  Steven’s chest was warming up as Animus swirled around them, from Tessa, from Aria, and from his own ecstasy.

  “Stop for a minute,” Aria whined. “Stop and let me come. Go deep, grab my hips, but stay in me, deep, so deep, so good.”

  Steven gripped Aria’s pliant hips and drove himself all the way into her core. Aria touched her secret spot, and a moment later, she was orgasming, shuddering. Her skin glowed, and she panted through her pleasure.

  “Watching her come is so hot,” Tessa murmured. “So fucking hot.” She was the next to experience heaven. Light poured out of her eyes and mouth as she radiated with Animus.

  Steven couldn’t help himself. He went back to pounding Aria, gripping her hips, eyes on Tessa’s hard nipples capping her big breasts, clearly visible through the T-shirt.

  Then he fell into an orgasm. Every cell in his body ignited with the mystical energy. His chest felt like an oven, but he loved it, loved the surge of power and gratification he was feeling.

  Still hard, he pulled out of Aria. He went to Tessa, sitting on a chair. He got between her legs and pushed himself into her.

  Tessa lost her breath. He stopped breathing, too. He’d gotten so turned on licking Aria, then watching the two women kiss that he was given another batch of bliss right away. Again, the Animus heated his body.

  He touched Tessa’s face. “Magica Cura,” he whispered, willing the spell to work, pumping all of the Animus flowing through him into the words. All doubts were forgotten. Like before, when he had trouble becoming a full dragon, it was simply embracing his true nature as a Dragonsoul. He was born to fight and fuck, to cast spells, to embrace his destiny as a part of the Drokharis clan.

  “It’s happening again,” Tessa whimpered. “Oh, it’s happening. It’s all happening.”

  He felt her center grip him and then release as she pulsated around him.

  More Animus, a lot more, swept through him, but then he channeled it into Tessa’s body. They were both a supernova of love, lust, and magic.

  Aria went around to kiss Tessa, the act both merciful and passionate.

  Steven felt dizzy, his head swimming, and his muscles ached because he was holding up his own body weight and Tessa’s—both balanced precariously on the chair. Thankfully, the owner of the Coffee Clutch hadn’t skimped on the quality of the furniture or they might’ve been in trouble.

  But this was too much. He couldn’t control his mind nor his body. He felt himself falling, falling, falling.

  But he didn’t hit the floor.

  He found himself back at the center of the universe, where he’d gone when he’d become a full Dragonsoul in the sacred pools of the Lookout Mountain Aerie. For a split second, he wondered if the hot springs had been destroyed in the apocalyptic battle that had killed Mouse. Then the thought was swept away as his mind marveled at the power he felt and the place where he floated. Around him spun stars, planets, nebulas, and every kind of astronomical wonder.

  He was dressed in a white robe, and he was glad for that because his father was floating there as well—and not the rambler, Joe Whipp. No, his real father, Stefan Drokharis.

  The bearded older man wore the suit he’d been wearing in Steven’s very first vision. It was black with a sleek white shirt, no tie.

  Stefan Drokharis smiled at him. “You’ve unlocked the next level of your powers, my son. I can only answer a single question ... for those are the rules of life and death that bind me. One question.” He smiled, small crow’s feet forming at the corners of his eyes. “Think on it carefully.”

  Steven had no idea what to ask. He had a zillion questions. Why had his shield spell failed? How did leveling match the skill tree? But really, any questions about magic came down to one thing. “How can I beat Rhaegen Mulk?”

  His father’s smile deepened. “Yes, that is what you need right now. That is clear. The simple answer is to gather your Escort, acquire your Hoard, and build your Aeries. Let nothing stop you. I pray I have helped in some small way with that.”

  “You have,” Steven replied. “Now, what is the more complicated answer?” He prayed he hadn’t wasted his one question with something so general.

  The elder Drokharis nodded solemnly. “You have the Drokharis Grimoire, at least the first volume. But I had to split the books lest they fall into the wrong hands. Find allies, my son. Find the enemy of your enemy and seek wisdom from him. The power you wield is great, but it’s nothing compared to the Primacy you must build. Working together with friends old and new, lovers old and new, all will give you what you need. Dragonsouls are not meant to be alone, though some of our kind seek that state of unwise solitude.”

  Before Steven could ask about the mysterious missing paragraph in his father’s spell book, the elder Drokharis did the unexpected. He embraced Steven in a bear hug. “I’m proud of you. Everything and everyone is against you, but you shall meet every challenge. The way will be difficult. In the end, however, you will be victorious.”

  Steven felt a wave of emotion crash through him. It was every shade of love, sorrow, hope, pain at being separated from his true family. It was years of longing for a father and some kind of connection to a world that was so full of disappointment, chaos, and suffering.

  An instant later, his father and their astral home were gone, faded to nothing, the Coffee Clutch reforming around him. He blinked and had that same feeling he had after a really good dream. It felt real and fake all at the same time, and he had to force himself to remember that he’d just talked to his father, his real father, who had embraced him for real.

  Steven was on the floor with both Aria and Tessa caressing him, begging him to come back, worry in their voices.

  “It’s okay,” he slurred. “I’m okay. I saw my father ...” He couldn’t talk. Tears were in his eyes and his chest felt heavy. But the Animus, that glorious energy, still filled him.

  He let the women help him onto a chair. “Water,” he whispered. “And something to eat. We can pay Eduardo back.”

  “Perhaps, but that will cut into our Hoard of five hundred dollars,” Aria said sarcastically.

  Steven took what she said hard, but now they had definite answers. He gulped down half a dozen day-old donuts and then drank as much water as he could.

  “You saw your father?” Tessa asked in wonder.

  Steven nodded. He glanced down. Tessa’s leg was completely healed. Now he could see that the Celtic pattern of her tattoo was actually a series of links in a chain. Yeah, he’d have to ask her about that ... but later. First, though, he told them of his vision, reciting what his father said word for word. Aria and Tessa sat on either side of him.

  Tessa nodded as he spoke. “The enemy of your enemy is your friend. Classic. But who do we know who hates Mulk?”

  Aria had the answer. “Liam Strider—the yellow dragon who kidnapped me.”

  “Him?” Tessa asked in wonder. “Uh, not sure if we’re thinking of the same guy, because last time I checked, that guy tried to kill us.”

  “Yes,” Aria agreed. “But afterwards, after he failed, he was driven from his Aerie by Edgar Vale. There can’t be love between Liam and Mulk. All of Li
am’s artwork was destroyed in the fight and fire.”

  “Liam?” Steven shook his head, feeling jealous. “So you’re on a first-name basis with that yellow fucker?”

  “He’s a Ronin,” Aria said simply, then shrugged one shoulder. “He has no allegiance. And he had no interest in me. He’s an odd one, but if anyone can help us, it would be him. He doesn’t have an Escort, for whatever reason.”

  “Okay,” Steven said. “How can we find him?”

  A buzzing sound echoed through the coffee shop. At first, Steven prepared for an attack—he had the Animus for it—but then he realized it was only a cell phone. Tessa’s phone.

  She got up and retrieved her cell from its holster on her gun belt. It was hanging off a chair. Tessa was smart. She’d kept her weapons close.

  She scrolled the phone on. Her eyes widened.

  “It’s a text,” she said with a gasp.

  “From who?” Steven asked, hoping against hope it wasn’t news that her family had been attacked.

  Tessa turned the phone so they could see. “From Mouse.”

  Chapter Eight

  MULK GRIMACED. HUMANS. He was going to have to deal with humans, and not just anyone, but the mother of his enemy. It was a dishonorable move, he knew, and yet it was the next logical step. He sat in a Cadillac Escalade in the early morning hours with Judith and his Magician, Gideon Scaramanga.

  The Thornton neighborhood was just waking up, a few people walking their dogs, most of the humans inside their boxes scurrying around, getting ready for some tedious job. Pathetic. And yet the billions of apes on the planet had their uses.