by Aaron Crash
“And when we win,” Steven said forcefully, “I’ll need an Aerie in the Great Plains Primacy. Aria agreed that there would be a lot less drama in Wyoming than there is in Colorado.”
“And more sheep.” Mouse sighed.
They stopped at a diner off I-80, ate greasy highway food until they almost burst wide open, and then got back into their vehicles. Liam ate little, turning his nose up at the homespun American food. Tessa liked him all right, but he could be a snob at times. He was an art collector by nature, though, and a couple hundred years old, so she could forgive him a little snobbery.
They skirted Cheyenne and turned off the state road at around 3 p.m. The entrance to the Double-Circle Ranch was a stretch of barbed wire hooked onto a fence post. Tessa got out, lifted the post connected to the barbed wire, and let the Orange Crush and Liam’s F-150 through. She then replaced the gate.
The road was two strips of dirt in the grass, growing ever greener thanks to the afternoon thunderstorms. Clouds gathered in the west, promising them more rain. She could smell the ozone in the air, and that elusive scent of moisture that made the grasses sigh.
It was another twenty minutes of bouncing over the unmaintained road before they pulled into the gravel driveway.
The ranch itself was a single level of rambling rooms. A few of the windows had been boarded over. The blasted gray siding needed paint. Really, if she were being honest, the entire house needed to be burned to the ground and replaced. However, it did have a nice garden in the back. Stone retaining walls were overgrown with weeds and cactus. The minute Tessa saw the back garden, she nodded. It was perfect. They’d need to fortify some of crumbing walls and they’d need to add some cement, but it would do nicely for what they needed.
All the official “ranch” buildings were in ruins. There had been a barn, but now it was mostly moldering, weather-beaten boards and bare beams. The wood might’ve been red at one time, but now it was all a dull gray. A few aluminum sheds were clustered around the corral, but heavy snows had collapsed their roofs, and the corrugated metal was heavily rusted. A John Deere tractor leaned heroically against the wind, but the green paint had long ago faded.
Tessa called the landscapers, but the ceaseless wind made talking difficult. She finally huddled next to the house, on the front porch, to coordinate their schedule. They could come the next day, and with the amount of money promised, they said they’d bring their full crew and hire outsiders to help.
The real estate agent that had brokered the deal gave Steven the combination to the lockbox, and he got them inside. While humans hadn’t lived in the house for quite a while, the rodents of the region had made themselves at home. Mouse droppings were thick in the corners.
Aria and Mouse frowned at the interior.
Mouse let her sarcasm flow. “‘Join my Escort,’ he said. ‘I have the entire Drokharis Hoard,’ he said. ‘You’ll live in the style and comfort you’re used to,’ he said.” She rolled her eyes. “Steven, I’m glad you’re good in bed because you don’t have much else going for you.”
Aria remained silent.
Tessa walked by Mouse, but not before kissing her on the cheek. “Oh, sweetie, just you wait. Steven is going to make this work. You’ll see.”
Aria’s frown deepened. She looked like she wanted to bolt, sprint south, and find the nearest five-star hotel.
Liam came in, but immediately sank to the floor and pushed his back against the chipped drywall of the living room. “I would be surprised if this house survived the coming fight. Until then, I’m going to pretend I’m back at home. Luckily, I have a good imagination.”
Tessa found Steven in the master bedroom, which had a glass door that led to the backyard’s garden.. He looked out over the weeds and stone walls. “This couldn’t be more perfect.”
Tessa walked up and held from him behind. She stroked his strong, muscled chest and kissed his ear. “The Double-Circle Ranch. It’s the sign for infinity. We’re supposed to be here. I can feel it.”
“I can too,” he murmured.
They spent the rest of the evening unpacking supplies Liam had brought, stocking the kitchen with food, and getting the pumps to the well water working. They had power, so they had light, and the ranch had a septic system that had just been cleaned. There wasn’t another house or human settlement for miles and miles. Like Steven had said, they couldn’t have asked for a better location.
If only Tessa didn’t screw up the spells. And that was a big if.
Liam and Mouse bedded down in sleeping bags in the spare rooms, while Steven, Tessa, and Aria slept on the floor of the master bedroom. Not exactly the lap of luxury, but Tessa had hunkered down in worse places than this more than once. Not long after high school, after still another fight with her mom, she’d ended up sleeping under the 31st Street Bridge near the South Platte River, just outside of Denver. Compared to that, this was heaven. Plus, she had Steven and Aria with her.
Tessa’s dreams that night were intense—lots of fire, shouting, and holes that opened in the night sky, breaking through the stars. Dragons poured out, and none of those dragons were friendly. In the nightmares, the winged serpents descended upon the gray house like flies to a corpse.
She was jerked awake, sweating, throwing punches at the air. She reached for her gun belt; the feel of the leather soothed her. She touched Aria, who was asleep, but when she reached for Steven, he wasn’t there.
A moment of panic, and then she saw him standing out on the porch, looking at the garden.
She slid open the glass door. The air was chill, but Steven didn’t seem to feel the cold. He was dressed in jeans, but that was it. When she huddled into his arms, they were fire around her. Curled up against him, the cold wind felt like a mere nuisance at most.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked.
“No, I couldn’t. If we survive, I’m going to call this place the Infinity Ranch. We’re going to do great things here, Tessa.”
Feeling him talk, listening to his words, soothed away her nightmares.
He continued. “I like the idea of building my own Aerie. Being given my father’s wealth, so easily, well, it never sat right with me. I never liked charity, and that’s what it felt like.”
“I never minded charity,” Tessa murmured. “It kept me and my family fed. It’s like with Bud. He wanted to help us, and I think that’s cool.”
“He’s going to drive up in a couple of days,” Steven said. “I told him to stay away, but he insisted. I’m hoping he’ll get here when the fighting is over.”
“Knowing Bud, he’ll get here at the worst possible time, do something stupid, and wind up helping us.”
“That guy,” Steven mumbled, a rueful grin stealing across his face.
Tessa laughed. “Yeah, that guy.” She paused. “I know something we could do to help us sleep.”
“Read some more of the second volume?” Steven asked playfully.
“While I love the second volume of the illustrious Drokharis Grimoire, I have something else in mind. It involves less page-turning and more bodily fluids.” Tessa felt herself getting excited at the thought of having Steven again, all to herself, outside under the stars.
Steven chuckled. “I think I could get on board with where this is heading.”
They made love on sleeping bags they pulled from out of the master bedroom. Tessa’s doubts were wiped away in the heat and sweat and the Animus coursing through their bodies.
This was life. This was their castle. And they were damn sure going to defend both. After they finished, she fell asleep, too exhausted to dream. To worry.
The next day was a flurry of activity.
An armada of workers came, pouring cement, painting the house, and doing repairs. Steven and Tessa directed their activities, and though the last of the men didn’t leave until after dark, they’d gotten everything ready.
Liam was looking a little better as he cooked them dinner—polenta and vegetables. The main course was eggplant stuffed
with a spicy pork mixture. Liam might’ve been a little stuffy at times, but one thing was certain: that Ronin could cook.
Another night of fitful sleeping as they waited for the cement in the garden to dry. The workers had cleared most of the weeds, and what was left was a labyrinth of low walls. A few of the guys had built a little shack out of the barn wood. They had special plans for that. The house itself looked better with fresh paint, though the siding was so dry and dilapidated the light blue paint was spotty in some places.
Tessa, though, knew that when Mulk attacked, he wouldn’t be worried about the house. Nope. She couldn’t help but grin. He would have other things to worry about ...
THE NEXT MORNING, STEVEN held Mouse’s phone. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused on the Animus warming his chest. This was it. He stood in the center of the garden. The concrete was set. It was time. His Escort and Liam Strider stood on the back porch, watching him, a mixture of emotions warring across their faces. Fear mingling with determination. Sadness waltzing with hope.
He turned on the phone’s GPS function and called Mulk.
Mulk answered immediately. “Melissa, what deal do you want to make with me this time?”
Steven laughed. “Sorry, pal. Melissa can’t come to the phone right now. This is Steven Drokharis. I want us to meet, somewhere private, where you and I can end this. You against me. No one else. Settle it like men. Like fucking Dragonsouls.”
Mulk was silent. He then laughed sharply. “Oh, no. I am going to bring hell down upon you, boy. I am going to eviscerate you and your Escort. I am going to make boots out of your skins.”
“Tough talk. Maybe you’re scared to face me alone.” Steven made sure Mulk could hear the smile in his voice. “Time and time again, you’ve underestimated me. You name the place, and we’ll be there. If you want our armies to fight? Fine. Let’s do it.”
“You will die. I was going to murder your mother and your bitch’s family, but now I don’t have to. Now you can feel my wrath directly.” Mulk’s voice was soft and hateful. “Tomorrow, I’ll meet you at sunset at your father’s St. Vrain Aerie. I might as well kill you in the same place where I killed him.”
Steven pressed the phone against his ear, fingers curling, threatening to crush the device as fury filled him. “But it wasn’t just you, Mulk. It was the Dragonsoul Conclave as well. You know, I’ve thought about contacting other Primes, to let them know how you fucked up by not killing Stefan’s son. What would they do to you then?”
He could almost taste Mulk’s surprise. But the old Dragonsoul recovered quickly. “Your family was a blight on all dragons. Sure, we all wanted the Drokharis clan dead. Does it gall you to know that your own kind hated your father? That we all reveled when we spilled his blood across the earth? You are simply a piece of forgotten business that I will take care of tomorrow night.”
Mulk didn’t stop. He was in full-rant mode. “And call other Primes. The minute they know of your existence, I might be punished, but they will stop at nothing to end you. You and your pathetic Escort are alone. Four against fifty of us? You will die, Steven Whipp. You will die, and I will drink the blood from your veins.”
“It’s Steven Drokharis, asshole. And I’ll see you tomorrow night. There, I will avenge my father and send a message to every Dragonsoul that thinks I’m going to be easy game.” He hung up. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Again, he checked to make sure that the GPS was turned on and that the tracking app was fully functional.
Mouse said that Mulk tracked all his wives, all the time.
Steven was betting on it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
THE DAY DRAGGED. NO word from Bud, but he was probably on his way, which was a shame. However, Steven couldn’t worry about that. He tried to eat, but nothing tasted good. He wanted the fight over and done with. Problem was, they had no idea when Mulk would show up with his army. Mulk had said it would be his fifty against Steven’s four. He didn’t know about Liam Strider, which was definitely a good thing.
All that was left to do now was wait.
Steven found an old lounge chair, and he set it up on the driveway, in the gravel. Clouds swept through the sky, driven eastward by the winds. A few raindrops dropped, but that wind was too intent on cleaning up the heavens to let any real moisture fall.
The sun crossed from east to west until the shadows grew long.
Still, Steven sat in his chair. He knew Mulk would attack before he left for the supposed St. Vrain Aerie rendezvous. Mulk, no doubt, would think he had the element of surprise. But that motherfucker didn’t know the meaning of the word.
Steven, Tessa, Aria, and Mouse were all at full Animus. Liam, though, was still low. That would change soon enough.
Steven’s Escort was in the house, patiently waiting in various locations, while Liam was ... elsewhere.
Steven didn’t think Mulk would show up in cars. No, he would descend upon them from the air—an army of scaly dragons with him—and he would try and end the fight quickly. He’d commit all his forces right away, Steven was sure of it. Mulk wasn’t subtle, and he also vastly overestimated his own abilities while underestimating Steven’s. Besides, he wanted Steven dead as soon as possible, if only to keep his failure a secret from the Conclave.
Aria came out of the house, gaze fixed upward. Clouds littered the skies but nothing else was there. She came over and ran a hand through his hair. “I wanted to ask you a question, Steven.”
He leaned back into her touch. “What’s going on, Aria?”
“Nothing,” she said softly. “But I have to know, with this next challenge facing us, do you regret our first kiss? It was that kiss that brought you into this and to this moment. Would you change it if you could?”
Steven got up from the chair and took Aria into his arms. She was so tall, they were about the same height. He felt the muscles on her back and then dropped his hands to touch her hips. “Before that kiss, Aria, I was working three jobs, going to school full-time, worrying about money, and wondering when the lack of sleep would kill me. I never had time for anything. It was brutal.”
He grinned. “Mulk is going to hit us hard. This is going to be tough. Would I trade in this life of violence and adventure for my old, boring deal? Nope. Not a chance in hell. To borrow from Mathaal, I’m a stellar creature of the heavens. I’m a Drokharis. I haven’t lived like one, but now? I will live and die as a Dragonsoul Prime. Because that’s what I am.”
Aria pressed her lips against his, sighing. He knew she’d been worried he might blame her. Never.
Shadows raced across the ground. From out of the sky, tearing through a cloud, came Rhaegen Mulk and his vassals. There were two dozen dragons, and each one had a rider on its back. Most of the riders were Kevlar-clad mercenaries, but he recognized three men: Gideon Scaramanga, Karlos Butcher, and Kai Charon. That last one was hard to miss, dressed in purple.
There were a couple of male dragons, sporting whiskers from their scaled chins, but the biggest one by far, with the longest beard, was a dark blue color, almost black. That was Rhaegen Mulk. He alone didn’t have a rider on his back.
Steven leapt from his chair and immediately unleashed a burst of raw Animus, morphing into his True Form. He roared, “Magica Defensio,” and cast the new shield spell he’d learned from the second volume. The black-tinged force field shimmered in front of him.
Aria fled back into the house. As planned. Good.
Steven took three great strides, then threw himself from the ground, wings beating furiously as he gained altitude. Time to go greet his guests ...
The men on the back of the dragons opened fire. Green streaks of enhanced bullets marked the air. The first struck Steven’s shield and broke through but only clipped the very top of his wing. He shifted the shield to protect against magical attacks.
Good thing he did. Gideon’s scarlet scimitars whipped through the air but bounced ineffectively off Steven’s upgraded shield. The next round of green bullets from th
e assault rifles fared no better, dissipating as soon as they hit his shimmering barrier.
A rust-colored male turned and let out a blast of lightning. Steven triggered SerpentGrace and hurled himself into a blazing-fast barrel roll, wings tucked in against his sides. He dodged the bright skeins of electricity by inches, then dropped at once, narrowly avoiding a rain of fire, which came courtesy of an emerald-green Dragonsoul dead ahead.
An orange female swept in from the right side, and a tan dragon came in from the left. Steven leveled out—his wings catching a strong air current—and shifted his shield spell back to protect against melee attacks. The orange female slammed into the force field. It was like watching a runaway semi hit a brick wall. Her neck cracked, and her eyes rolled up into the back of her head as she went unconscious, dropping out of the sky. She wasn’t dead yet, but if she hit the ground, she would be.
Steven, powered by mystical speed, whirled and drove his fangs into the tan dragon’s throat. At the same time, he caught her claws as she went to shred him. He didn’t chomp down through her jugular but let himself fall. He was twice as heavy as the female. With their combined weight, she couldn’t keep aloft.
Wind whistled through his ears. Some of Mulk’s forces went to save the orange female. Others stayed on target.
But Steven still had his shield. He shifted it again to protect himself from the magic missiles and the conjured bullets of his foes. Mulk swept in and breathed out a blinding blizzard of ArcticWind. Steven simply twisted the tan dragon around so she took the brunt of the attack. And then he threw her to the ground right next to the shed the workers had built the day before.
Steven fully opened his wings and swept across the ground, inches above the sagebrush. He headed toward the house. The dragons, the mercenaries, and the Terror Trio were all converging on it. They’d seen Aria flee inside. Good news. That could only help their plan.