by T D Raufson
“You have a plan they don’t know about,” she said.
“You’re a dangerous woman.”
Her smile deepened. She enjoyed danger, too. He could see the flush running down her chest where her blouse opened.
“Why are you following me?”
“Have I not proven that you need me? I know I need you.”
“I don’t need a human. You know what I am. You know what I plan. Why do you want to help me?”
“I see what you can be. I see what you can make me. I want to be there with you.”
He had no idea if she was telling him the truth, but the blood was pounding in his ears. His anger; the lack of action; the difficulty to get the other dragons to agree were all driving him. They were just like Melissa, paralyzed by years of being human. It was pollution. He would purge the human pollution from his dragon blood.
They were at the front of the conference center before he realized where he was going. The smell of the city and its human occupiers was not the refreshing smell he needed. A valet was next to him in a moment opening the door on one of several limousines that were on station. The young boy motioned toward the door, and Nethliast made his decision.
He stepped into the limousine and gave the driver directions to take him out of the city. He needed to see the countryside. He needed to see his legacy. It was dark now, but he would still enjoy the drive. The blonde was in the door behind him. He looked at her and held up his hand.
“I’m not in the mood for company.”
She pushed herself into his hand and climbed in beside him.
“Take us to the Perlacher Forst,” she ordered as she closed the door, and the limousine pulled away from the curb.
“You’re lying to yourself.” She took over the conversation. “You’ve been alone too long. You’ve forgotten that, at times like this, it’s important to share your emotions. You’re angry. You need to break something. Why else would you be out here? You’ve had to hold back those emotions too long. I want you to let them out.” She was next to him on the seat, and he could feel her emotions. She pressed herself into his chest and kissed him before he could move back.
The passion in the kiss ignited his own desire, and his anger flared. How dare she? He thought of Melissa and how she had spurned him, how she had driven him to do this alone. He grabbed the woman and pulled her head back roughly. Before she could act, he transitioned into his scaled partial dragon form and was upon her. In a moment, he was taking his anger at the conclave and his irreparable hatred of Melissa out on her. He had no idea he was so angry. She was exactly where he wanted all humanity. They would pay. They would be subjugated, just like this woman.
He pushed her frail form away from him. His anger and lust dissipated, he relaxed into the drive and savored his conquest. She stared at him for a moment. Nethliast didn’t care if she cried or screamed, but her reaction surprised him. She laughed. He could feel a twinge of his anger ignite again at the base of his neck.
She pressed the intercom button near her head and instructed the driver to drive to an address in the suburbs of Munich. She sat on the far side of the seat and displayed his conquest to him. He looked at her a moment and then turned his attention to the darkness and the receding city.
When the limousine reached the address, Nethliast transformed back into his human form and handed her his suit coat.
“Cover yourself.”
“Pick us up here in the morning,” she told the driver, who nodded and left them there.
She walked to the door of the modest house and invited him in with a gesture. Inside, the lie that she was a normal woman continued. Everything looked quaint.
“So, this is not you. This is a show for your neighbors and friends. Who are you? What’s your name?”
“Rebekka Kluge.” She thrust her hand out to him as if they had just met. “Until a month ago this was me, quiet, suburban witch, who presented nothing to the world and practiced dark arts on evenings and weekends with friends. It’s far easier to be invisible, but you know all about that.”
She shrugged off his jacket, handed it off to him and walked to the stairs where she looked at him over her bare shoulder. It was not as challenging or exciting this way. He was not as angry, but he could not deny his interest so he followed her up into her inner sanctum.
—
As the late evening swallowed the neighborhood and he released Rebekka to the black sheets of her bed, Nethliast was thinking of the other conquest he had set into motion when he walked out of the conclave. He had told them that in the morning things would be different. Things were already different. He looked over at the resting woman who had swept him into her web. She was dangerous. Fully relaxed, he lay back against the satin to think about dangerous women and the changes dawn would bring.
Chapter 7 - Betrayal
July 16 – 2145 EDT - Signal Mountain, Tennessee
Sneaking into a house to capture a full-blood dragon queen had never been on his bucket list, but these days it seemed like everyone was a soldier. Carlos Sanchez was not special anymore; he was Private First Class Sanchez, and he was part of a team. His drill sergeant had taught him that much in the first few weeks of training at the old military school in Virginia. Now, as he slipped across the manicured lawn and hid in the shadows of the house, he wished he had been able to complete all of his training.
Based on the schedule, Carlos’ class was several weeks away from graduation and had only started their combined training. His squad had just formed under him when they were rushed onto the buses, assigned real ranks and told they had a special mission to complete. Carlos had no idea where the rest of his class was now, but he and his squad were crawling toward a stone mansion with the simplest of instructions: Capture the dragon inside.
It wasn’t like they didn’t know what they were doing. There had been specific instructions for his squad after they were away from the camp, and Carlos replayed those instructions through his mind while he waited for the order to go. Between quick capture drills on the way to Tennessee and waiting for instructions, they had been able to gather some information on their target. That was how he knew it was the dragon queen.
That realization came with mixed feelings. The fact that his squad was selected to capture the queen made Carlos proud and nervous at the same time. He was so nervous about it that he kept it to himself. His squad didn’t need to know or be worried about whom they were capturing.
Inside, behind the blinds and fancy curtains, was the dragon queen; Carlos was fine keeping that information to himself while they moved into position. He didn’t know the scale of the operation beyond this target, but, from conversation with the officers he knew the rest of his class was assigned locations just like this one. Operation Talon was designed to capture key dragon hostages. Why capturing dragons would help pay the humans back for their treachery escaped Carlos, but that was something else his drill sergeant taught him: It didn’t matter if he understood.
Carlos inhaled the damp summer air, shoved the negative thoughts into the back of his head where they belonged and walked around the wall until he was at the back door. It was time to complete this mission. Carlos reviewed the plan in his head before committing to action. He and Petros were breaching the house to make the capture, Petros would breach from the front, and he had the rear entrance. Cowart, White and Gordon were backup in the van if they needed them and to make sure they could get out clean. Satisfied with the plan Carlos exhaled the tension out of his body. It was time to test their training.
“Petros, set to move?”
“Set.”
The house was one of several large mansions on top of the mountain. It was secluded, which meant neighbors weren’t watching what was going on. That was good for the privacy-minded, but it also made this type of operation easier on the assault team. All they had to worry about was whoever was in the house. The guard at the gate was dead, Petros had taken care of that while Carlos was scaling the back wall. All they had
to do now was surprise the target, subdue her and then call in the rest of the team with the van to take her to the warehouse.
He reached up, touched the handle to the back door, and carefully turned it to see if they were trusting people who believed their neighborhood was safe. The knob resisted his turn. No, they were going to make him work for it. He hadn’t been trained to pick locks. Anything he did would make noise, but he was already too far down this path to turn back now.
“Go!”
Carlos focused on the spot on the door just beside the lock and cast the first spell they had taught him for this mission. The invisible force hit the door. Splinters of wood flew from the doorframe around the deadbolt and a loud pop filled the air. He cringed at the noise but continued to move. They could not delay at this point without aborting the mission.
It was just a matter of time now. Once they had breached, the faster they found her the easier this would be. If she was asleep, they had a chance. He pushed the door open, and stepped into a laundry room. Beyond the doorway was a small kitchen, probably used by the staff. There was no one in the room as he passed through it. A thin door with a small circular window in it led into the main house’s kitchen.
He hated not knowing where she would be in the house, but they had not had the time to gather any better intelligence. They had watched her fly back into the yard while they were waiting for the sun to set. The car in the garage hadn’t left, and she hadn’t flown away while they were waiting for clearance to move, so she should be here.
He walked through the kitchen and into the dining room. There were three entrances to the large room with the antique table and matching buffet: the kitchen, the living room and a foyer leading to the front door and staircase. He could see the front door standing open, announcing to anyone outside that something was not right in the house.
The foyer was empty. He had entered through the kitchen, leaving only the living room on that floor. It was mostly dark. A single lamp lit the immediate area around a high-back chair in the middle of the room. Another chair sat next to it and had its own table and lamp. There were several fine rugs hanging on the wall, and dark wood filled the room. He stepped through the open doorway into the room focusing his power to trap his target sitting in the chair.
Without warning, his head exploded in a flash of pain. He was suddenly blind, gripping his head and kneeling on the floor. He had lost any contact with the magic he had been preparing and was forced to roll away from the next strike of the fire poker aimed directly at his now throbbing head. The cast iron, hooked end whistled just above his skin as he rolled forward. He didn’t have enough room to complete the roll, and his feet smashed into the small table. The lamp tipped to the floor and shattered, showering him and the rug with chunks of stained glass. Panic and pain finally overcame his human side, and, instinctively, scales flashed out across his body to protect him. His head became more draconic and his fingernails changed to black claws. Energy surged through him as the transition reminded him that he was more than human. He jumped up, turning to find his attacker while his enhanced vision scanned the room for life. He had to find the threat and neutralize it as soon as possible. In the heartbeat he had gained as he jumped to his feet and turned toward his attacker, he cursed at being caught in his human form and wondered why he had not transitioned before.
As he completed his turn, he saw her. His target was standing in front of the doorway into the kitchen. Emerald scales covered her from head to toe, and a wicked pointed tail thrashed at the air behind as if it was looking for a target. Lightning was erupting from the black talons at the end of her fingertips, and his body was already reacting. He could feel his muscles contracting, and he could do nothing to avoid the highly charged bolt that bounded toward him. It struck him in the chest and vaporized the center of his shirt. His armored chest protected him from the searing heat as it threw him off his feet. His muscles were trembling as he was hurled over the chair and against the wall. Unimaginable power coursed through his body, destroying vital organs as they reacted to the overstimulation. Landing on the couch beyond the chairs Carlos watched the dragon queen release another bolt into Petros, who had entered the room just as she had attacked. Her movements were smooth compared to his novice reactions. He was quickly neutralized and flopping against the wall. As she spun around to face any other opponents who might be in the room, her tail drove into his stomach pinning him to the wall. Petros’ body slumped against her tail before she extracted it and left him crumpled on the floor. The queen moved toward him with her tail poised over her shoulder to strike if he moved.
Carlos could not get his muscles to stop twitching. What breath he could command into his lungs smelled of burning fabric and some other odor he could not describe. He could barely move his head, but he looked down at the smoking circle on his chest. His muscles seized one last time, and everything went black.
July 17 – 0625 CEST – Munich, Germany
Nethliast looked across the pillow at the halo of blonde hair that encircled Rebekka’s head. Bile rose in his throat as he thought back over the events of the night. He had fallen to Melissa’s level. The witch had soiled him. She had drug him into her human pit. She would not drag him any deeper. He was nearly out of the bed when he looked back at her. What type of woman would track him down as she had? At the same instant, he struggled with a desire to stay with the woman and a drive to leave and never look back.
“Don’t even think about leaving me behind.”
The seductive German accent whispered up from the pillow. The one eye he could see over its satin top blinked at him accusingly. He said nothing in response to what he convinced himself was a joke. There was no way she could know what he was thinking. He continued his exit from the bed and collected his erratically discarded clothes for something to do. He didn’t care about this woman. He wouldn’t care about any female, especially a human female. Perhaps, after he had taught the humans a lesson, he would find a female who deserved his seed, but this woman was not her.
He had made up his mind. This woman was not going to affect him. He transformed himself and covered his naked body with a new suit. He left the bedroom and promised himself he was not returning to it.
He reached the door and had almost left Rebekka behind when her voice stopped him.
“Wait.” She was standing at the top of the stairs. Her eyes drooped a little, and her small frown chilled him. “You need me.”
“I don’t need you,” he shouted.
“Right, you have all of this under control and don’t need any help. Yesterday is an excellent example of how much you don’t need me.” She walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. He remained at the door and didn’t answer her. She suddenly reminded him, again, of Melissa. Anger flared at the back of his neck. He didn’t need this. Today everything would be different. Even Melissa wouldn’t stand against him anymore. He held all of the cards.
Rebekka rattled a few dishes in the delicate pink kitchen to start a pot of coffee and then returned to the living room. Her nakedness, and her absolute ease with it, tickled another region of his brain and wanted to merge with the trickle of anger he had just felt.
“You may come if you wish, but I don’t need you.”
“Fine, coffee’s on if you want any. I’ll be down in a few minutes. The limousine will be here shortly.” She turned her back on him and walked away. As he wondered why he was still waiting and why he wasn’t on his way out the door, he heard the water in the bathroom upstairs. While she showered and dressed, he wrestled with the argument, and still refused to admit any understanding of why he had not left. Was it because she was powerful? Did she really know what he was thinking? He finally settled on the reason he was happy with, the limousine was not there yet. He was not afraid of any human. He looked over his shoulder as if she might be watching him in her antonymous lair.
Before he could decide if she was watching him, she returned, dressed in another attractive business suit. The lavend
er skirt and jacket brought out purple flecks in her eyes. She filled a travel mug with coffee and looked over at him.
“Can you be a little more careful with my clothes? I can’t just change my form and throw on another Armani like that.”
Her chiding joke stung, and he suddenly felt like a little boy who had soiled his pants. The flame of anger prickled again at the back of his skull, and he wanted to rip the suit off her to teach her to respect him. He moved toward her, still thinking to punish, and she turned to the door without a flicker of fear. His anger flared with nowhere to go.
“Limo’s here.” She walked out the door without a backward glance.
All the way to the conference center, she sat in one corner of the back seat and stared out the window over her mug of coffee. Nethliast settled into his own thoughts and put her out of his mind. Soon he would take his place at the head of his empire. He didn’t need her.
When they arrived, Nethliast left the limousine alone, though he knew she was beside him as he walked through the doors and headed to the meeting room. Valdiest crossed the lobby to intercept him. His face was a sour snarl.
“You left me there with them after that. You need to learn your place. That’s twice you made me look like a suckling. I will not be disrespected like that. It is hard enough to keep them all in the same room and to move them to your ideals without outbreaks like that.”
Nethliast noted the sudden change in pronoun the old king had applied. The ideals obviously were no longer theirs, but his alone.
“You can’t let him treat you like that.” A whisper to his right poked at the anger in his head and, like oxygen rushing into a firebox, it flared and threatened to consume him. He controlled his anger before speaking.
“Yes, sire. I expect you handled that much better than I did. I was frustrated, and I don’t have the experience of your years.”