American Dragons series Box Set

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American Dragons series Box Set Page 45

by Aaron Crash


  “Magica Defensio,” Steven called out, whipping one hand forward.

  Mathaal’s claws crashed into his shield. That force field was no match for the sheer fury of the enraged beast. The shield disintegrated, but it had been enough of a deflection to save Steven’s life.

  A book golem dove into Steven’s mouth, trying to wriggle down his throat. Steven spit it out, gave himself another dose of SerpentGrace speed, and darted beneath Mathaal’s grasping talons until he was inside the ancient dragon’s guard. With a flick of his own claws, he pried the book off Old Matchstick’s chest. It went tumbling to the floor. But not before Steven swept his tail around to knock it onto the steps, where it continued to glisten with a multicolored light.

  Tessa’s Peacekeeper roared three more times—pop-pop-pop—knocking book golems off the staircase and clearing her way to the tome they’d come in search of.

  Mathaal breathed out another wave of ArcticWind, trying to freeze Aria and Mouse in their tracks, but both were exceptional flyers, and they dodged the blizzard blasts, swooping, wheeling, and rolling. Aria would still be feeling the effects of the initial cold attack, and yet you’d never know it. She was as tough as nails.

  A sheen of icy frost coated the walls, the bookcases, and even some of the golems—trapping the strange creatures in place.

  “Enough of this!” Mathaal boomed like a clap of thunder. “I don’t know who you are, but I will not be bested by three dragonlings and an ape.”

  Those words both hurt and infuriated Steven. This poor thing didn’t know why he was suddenly fighting, and that was a sad thing to ponder. However, he’d called Tessa an ape, and Steven wasn’t about to sit back and let that shit go unpunished.

  “Magica Defensio!” Steven shouted. He brought his shield down on top of Old Matchstick. He then took to the air and drove his body weight down onto the shield. Aria and Mouse joined him. They had the ancient Dragonsoul squished under their weight, but he was bucking and thrashing like a bull crossed with a boa constrictor.

  Steven ducked the spiked tail.

  Aria was nearly thrown off, as was Mouse, but somehow they held on, their combined weight keeping Mathaal down.

  Right up until Old Matchstick spewed poison gas from his mouth. Noxious green fog rolled out from his terrible jaws, clinging to the ground in a circle around him.

  Tessa, wheezing from the attack, scooped up the book and quickly darted up the stairs. Unfortunately, a fistful of golems blocked her way.

  “We need to leave!” Steven yelled. “Now!”

  Mouse’s shout echoed his. “Tessa, jump, and I’ll catch you.” Mouse launched herself off the shield, taking wing like the pro she was. Tessa, without so much as a moment of hesitation or fear, leapt off the staircase just as the golems rushed her, their legs churning, paper arms outstretched. Mouse swooped in, catching the barista in her claws, then pumping her wings as she soared up, up, up—toward the night sky overhead and the safety it offered. And best of all, they had the tome.

  Steven held his breath, as did Aria. The poisonous gas had completely filled the bottom of the hole, and writhing tendrils of green were clawing their way upward. Mathaal seemed completely immune, but Steven knew he and Aria wouldn’t be half so lucky. He needed to do something, and he needed to do it yesterday.

  With a grunt of sheer will, Steven slammed down on the shield one last time, then used the magical platform to push off, taking to the air, his wings flapping. Aria followed close on his heels. Dragons weren’t helicopters, so they couldn’t rise straight up. But by banking in a continuous flight, they could spiral upward. Problem was, Mathaal’s toxic gas was gaining some real momentum and rising just as fast. Steven had the idea that if even just a bit of that poison managed to get into his lungs, it would kill him immediately.

  Judith might’ve been powerful, but she was nothing compared to the forgetful fiend below.

  Steven banked hard right, dodging the first copper awning, as did Aria, but Mathaal merely smashed right through it. He was howling, beyond words, screaming and screaming and screaming. Then he fell silent.

  The next sound started as a mutter, then a growl, then an odd reality-bending whomp followed by a split second of eerie quiet. Then a strange sound filled Steven’s stomach with absolute dread. What fresh hell was this crazy asshole summoning now?

  His question was quickly answered as a beam of eye-searing light as thick as a redwood erupted from the bowels of the hole. Steven glanced down, just a peek. No, that light didn’t come from the hole, but from Mathaal’s open mouth. The beam was breathtaking—filled with every color and none at all. That blast was ice and fire, poisonous gas and lightning, and a terrible unearthly power that defied all reason or logic. To be hit by that much energy would melt the flesh from his body, turn his bones to ash, and then scatter those ashes to the four winds.

  ChromaticFury. Had to be.

  The deadly energy beam carved through the air in wild arcs, smashing into walls and stairs. The only thing that saved them was the fact that Mathaal was mostly blind and thus couldn’t aim for shit. That and pure, stupid luck.

  Mouse and Tessa reached the top of the hole, and Mouse immediately turned into her Homo Draconis form. She’d remembered Uchiko’s warning about using flight on the island.

  Aria reached the top next, then Steven, and they too went from winged beasts to half-dragons, dropping down onto the loamy earth of the island. Without missing a beat, they all sped away from the lip of the hole, darting into the cover and concealment of the dense jungle. The sound of the ChromaticFury still rang in Steven’s ears. He continued to feel that world-ending energy prickling his cells.

  Uchiko stood dead ahead, blocking the path. She had another kusarigama in her hands.

  Would they have to fight their way past her again?

  “Go!” the Japanese Dragonskin said, surprising the absolute crap out of Steven. Finally, a break. “I will talk to Mathaal,” she said, steely gaze fixed on the mouth of the pit behind them. “I’ve been successful before, calming him.”

  Steven turned to look over his shoulder.

  Mathaal emerged from the terrible pit, but he didn’t change shape. However, the minute he got more than a dozen feet off the ground, he struck the same force field that Steven had hit on his way in. Mathaal slammed down onto the ground, transforming into his Homo Draconis form, as white, wrinkled, and aged as his True Form. The dude’s beard drooped all the way down to his groin—a small miracle that, since he was naked—but Steven was surprised that the guy was pretty fucking ripped for being a geezer.

  Mathaal drew himself up and breathed out a line of ShadowFlame. Trees all around him burst into bonfires.

  Uchiko sped forward, swinging her sickle-chain. “No, Mathaal, these are not your enemies. I am not your enemy. It is I, Uchiko of the Onari Guard. I will help you back to your home. I will help you repair the damage. This is all just a terrible mistake. You’ve forgotten yourself again.”

  Steven faltered, watching the odd scene unfold even though he knew he needed to run like a maniac. Mouse, Tessa, and Aria kept right on going, though. “Almost out of time, Steven,” Mouse called back. “Our gate back to Nebraska opens in less than ten minutes. Move your ass!”

  Right. The timer. Liam Strider would be creating another portal, and if they weren’t there, they’d be trapped on the other side of the globe. Steven shook his head, then turned away from the old man with his awesome power and made for the path. He triggered SerpentGrace, quickly catching up with his Escort despite them having a significant lead. After a few minutes of balls-to-the-wall sprinting, they broke out of the underbrush and onto the sandy white beach. Without stopping, they all transformed into dragons—the three that could, anyway—and Mouse carried Tessa over to the rocks in the middle of the ocean.

  The gate was already open, sending out a buttery yellow light across the dark waters of the Indian Ocean. But that portal was closing, getting smaller, smaller, smaller.

  Mouse launc
hed Tessa through the portal and then flew off to get another run at it from the right angle. Aria folded her wings in along the sides of her body, soaring toward the portal like a cruise missile on a crash course. She transformed into a human at the very last moment and sailed through the opening with ease, though her landing was going to be rough as hell.

  Steven knew he couldn’t slow down. No, he was going to have to hit that Nebraska dirt hard. Oh well. Following Aria’s example, he tucked his wings in and threw himself into an insane dive, a humid wind pounding at his face. Five feet out from the portal, he went human and tucked himself into a ball, saying a silent prayer for the best. He soared through the portal unharmed but hit the ground like a cinderblock tossed out of an airplane. He bounced and flopped and rolled, and with every fresh hit it felt like every bone would snap. He’d be lucky to have skin when he was done.

  After taking the pummeling of the century, Steven eventually tumbled to a stop. He was on his back, one arm twisted up beneath him. Not broken, but holy crap did it hurt.

  Liam was on his knees in front of the portal, twenty feet away. Blood poured from his nose, from his ears, from his eyes. He looked like the effort of opening the gate and keeping it open would kill him.

  Steven couldn’t breathe, but pushed through the pain and propped himself up on his elbows. He squinted and searched for his escort. Tessa and Aria were already back on their feet, but what about Mouse? The portal, built out of the smoke of the fire, was only about two feet across.

  Luckily, she was a tiny woman. She came barreling through, feetfirst, and landed like the superhero she was, using her legs to brace her fall. She stood up, naked except for where the strap of the Slayer Blade crossed her chest. “Well, that was certainly exciting.”

  Tessa raised a book into the air. “We fucking got it. Holy shit, we got it.”

  They were triumphant. However, Steven couldn’t help but wonder about Uchiko and her friends. Had she been able to calm Mathaal, or had the ancient Dragonsoul unleashed his ChromaticFury on her as well?

  RHAEGEN MULK SAT NEXT to his wife while she slept in their bed at the very top of the Wells Fargo Building in downtown Denver. He’d had construction workers working constantly to repair it after the Edgar Vale disaster ... No, Steven Drokharis was the real disaster. But he wouldn’t be around much longer.

  Denver’s lights twinkled through the wall of windows. Candles flickered about the room. The soft scent of incense wafted across the expensive sheets and luxurious furniture. He was a Dragonsoul with a Hoard and Aeries across the state. What did the Drokharis whelp have? Nothing but a slow, painful death on the horizon.

  While Gideon Scaramanga couldn’t find the Dragonling and his Escort, Mulk knew that Steven would reappear on his radar. But he couldn’t help but wonder why they had gone to Nebraska. There had been rumors that was where Liam Strider had run off to. Was it possible Steven had sought the Ronin out? Mulk certainly hoped the pair would become friends and stay close to one another. Murdering them both at the same time would be very convenient.

  Not to mention satisfying.

  Mulk sipped coffee from the silver cup. He’d added a little cognac to it, to ease what he had to do.

  A knock on the door.

  “Come,” Mulk said.

  Gideon Scaramanga stepped into the room. In his hand was the wretched, scorched steak knife. “I am ready, my Prime,” the Magician said solemnly.

  Judith opened her eyes. Gideon had healed her, but he couldn’t fix the skeletal damage the magic bullet had done to her face. Her beauty was gone. Half of her face was bone and scar tissue. She might be able to regain some of her motor functions, but she’d always walk with a limp from her battles. It had been a miracle that she’d lived through the onslaught at all. Not even Elftears could help her.

  But Animus still clung to her soul. And it might be Animus that Mulk could use.

  Judith turned to Mulk. Tears shone in her one good eye. The other eye was gone, lost to her destroyed face. “Rhaegen, we knew that it might one day come to this. I believe in you, in your Primacy, and with my blood, you will find the last of the Drokharis clan and destroy him. His death will keep all Dragonsouls safe. The Conclave need never know.”

  And Mulk had made sure that they didn’t. Gideon had been casting protection spells, wiping minds, and keeping the secret hidden. At the same time, Mulk had found more than a few allies to help him end the Drokharis threat. The next time he hit Steven Whipp, they would have dozens of Dragonsouls fighting with him and the Terror Trio. Throw in the last of his human mercenaries armed with magic weapons, and Mulk would finally have the victory that should’ve been his from the beginning.

  There was only one last piece to suss out ... the exact location of their enemy.

  Gideon thumbed his steak knife. “I can’t guarantee that, with her Animus, I will be able to find the Dragonling. With Sabina, our spells intertwined, and we overcame Stefan Drokharis’ spells. What is protecting him now? I can’t say. But I think it is weaker, far weaker.”

  “It’s a chance we have to take.” Mulk stood and gripped Judith’s hand. She had been such a fine member of his Escort—the very first woman to believe in him. And now, he was going to sacrifice her. Strangely, he felt nothing. He would replace her. He would continue to fight. She was a casualty in a war with no end. Besides, he couldn’t keep her alive. Her ruined face would always remind him of her failure. A cruel fate for both.

  “I could leave,” Judith said suddenly. Fear glimmered in her one good eye. Clearly, she was having second thoughts. “I know seeing me like this must be difficult for you. I could live out my days in exile.”

  Mulk shook his head. “Marrying me is forever. You know that.”

  She closed that eye for the final time. “I understand.”

  “I loved you, my Judith,” he said mechanically. “Farewell.”

  He nodded at Gideon. Who plunged the steak knife into her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  STEVEN SAT OUTSIDE the house, in the dark, watching bats fly through the air. Tessa had healed the burn on his arm and the scratches on his neck, but it had done nothing to soothe his troubled heart. He sat in jeans, no shirt, enjoying the cool air and the hypnotic droning of night bugs.

  For weeks he’d thought he knew exactly who’d killed his real father. He had one enemy, Rhaegen Mulk. Come to find out that an entire collection of dragons had agreed to murder the Drokharis family. Shit, maybe all of the Primes had been in on it. There was no way to know just how deep this conspiracy went. Not at this point. Best-case scenario? It had only been a secret cabal of uber assholes, not the entire Prime Conclave. But that still meant the next time he squared off against Mulk, he’d probably be battling dozens of other dragons too. And that? There was no way they could survive that. None.

  But what were his options? Run away? Become a Ronin? Forget that Mulk and his lackeys had murdered his father and mother?

  No. Steven had to protect his Escort and their families. Good news there, Tessa’s family and Steven’s mother were still okay. He wasn’t sure if Bud’s security team had done the trick, or if Mulk didn’t want to dick around with humans. Either way, Bud might be ghosting them, but their families were safe.

  Steven thought again of what Aria had said the night she’d first kissed him. Her words echoed out of the past.

  But I must warn you, this kiss might destroy us both. This one kiss might change everything forever. If I am lucky. If you are damned.

  He’d felt both lucky and damned, for weeks. Yes, being a Dragonsoul meant war, but it also meant love. He couldn’t imagine his life without Tessa, Aria, and yes, even Mouse. While the blonde could be infuriating and snarky as hell, when it came down to it, she’d sacrificed herself over and over. She was a team player even though most of the time she hated the team.

  That was some irony there.

  For once, they’d had to cook for Liam. Opening that gate had wiped him out. He didn’t have an Escort to re
supply him with Animus, and there was no killing to be done, so Liam would have to collect Animus slowly. Steven couldn’t imagine living like that, not with the life he had to lead and the battles he had to fight.

  Yet if the battles ended? If Dragonsouls could live in peace? Then love and sex would be the only optimal way to get Animus. Steven liked the idea. Yet how could he change the Dragonsoul culture that was thousands of years old ... maybe older? Mathaal had talked about the apes coming down from the trees. How long ago was that? Who were Icharaam and Rahaab? So many unanswered questions ...

  Or maybe Old Matchstick was simply insane and nothing he said meant a thing.

  Twenty years would be a long time stuck down in that hole.

  When Steven had asked Liam about the Conclave, Liam thought the idea was ridiculous. Dragonsoul Primes did not mix with each other in any meaningful way. There might be a truce now and again, but a full-on council to decide the fate of rogue dragons? Liam wasn’t sure he believed any of what Mathaal had said. The Yellow Ronin had known the location of the ancient beast, he knew of his power, but he had no knowledge of the actual details concerning Mathaal’s captivity.

  Steven, though, knew Old Matchstick had been in his right mind about the Conclave. And Uchiko had backed up his story with her own history. He thought about going back and trying to enlist her and the Onari Guard in his fight, but he couldn’t imagine that would be a possibility. Their honor ran deep, and he doubted he could convince them to break their vows again.

  Mouse came out and sat next to him. She was in a button-down shirt and cut-off jeans. He wasn’t sure where she got the clothes, but they hugged her curves just right. The rest of the house was dark and silent.

  They didn’t say anything for a long time. Eventually, it was the blonde who broke the silence. “Do you think of me as Mouse or Melissa?”

  The question caught him off guard. What was she talking about? Then he remembered the conversation they’d had when they’d fought with the bokken.

 

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