by Riley Storm
Victor flung up his arm to block a punch from the now-nearest shifter while he flipped his balance around, pulled his leg back in from behind him and shot it out in a high-kick in front of him.
This time, the blow connected. It was too fast and too unexpected for the Ursa to react, even with his finely-honed senses. There simply was too great a gap between that of a Drakon and one of the other shifters.
Still, four on one should be enough to even the odds if they were seasoned fighters. Only the relative youth and inexperience of the Ursa was protecting him at the moment.
Something struck him in the side, and he spun away, both forearms vertical in front of his face, protecting it as he disengaged, buying himself a few moments to reassess.
One of the Ursa was heavily impaired. The flat of Victor’s foot had connected with his nose, and blood streamed from it. Already, swelling was puffing up the man’s eyes, and soon he would be visually impaired as well.
The other trio, however, were all on their feet and looking none the worse for wear.
“Stop this!” Cheryl ordered from the doorway, where she waited with a staff member of Leblanc, but it was pointless. There was no separating the shifters now, not once combat had been engaged.
Blood had been drawn, and neither side would settle until it was over.
“Well, come on then,” Victor taunted as the bear shifters of House Ursa approached, this time with more wariness in their steps. They had been surprised the first time around, but they wouldn’t be caught quite so off guard again. He needed to end this, and soon.
Instead of waiting for them to approach a second time, Victor kept the initiative by going on the attack. He rushed at the outside shifter on his left, moving quickly. His right hand came up, aimed directly at the shifter’s face.
Instinctively, the bear shifter brought both arms up to block the blow—which left him wide open for Victor’s true strike as his left fist came whipping around and slammed into the Ursa youth’s ribcage. He felt something give way under his knuckles, but there was no time to stop and assess the damage.
Victor planted his foot and spun away, keeping the stunned figure between himself and the other two as they rushed to attack. Now behind his initial target, he stomped on one knee. The shifter screamed and fell to the ground, his right leg mangled and unable to support any weight.
At this point, if it were a real fight, Victor would snap the man’s neck. It was right at his waist, perfect height to take him out of the fight permanently. He had to resist the urge to do so, because his dragon was screaming at him to twist until vertebrae snapped.
This was the man who had dared touch Cheryl! He must pay!
But Victor was in control, not his beast. He would not be controlled by anyone. A brutal cuff to the side of the head sent the bear shifter tumbling to the pavement where he lay still, only semi-conscious.
Angry roars erupted from three other throats and the bear shifters leapt at him. Arms grabbed at his arms and tried to grab purchase around his throat. The combined weight of three bear shifters bore him to the ground. With his arms held down, there was no way for Victor to brace himself, and his head hit the concrete. Hard.
He saw stars.
One of the bear shifters rolled on top of him. Victor’s vision cleared just long enough to see a fist descending toward his face before it impacted, and his world went white for a brief second.
“Ow,” he mumbled, then rocked to the other side as another blow descended.
Enough.
Victor’s hand flashed out and he grabbed the next fist as it came for his face, stopping the shifter cold. He snarled and fingers like steel closed hard around the big, meaty fist of the bear shifter. Something popped. The man grunted, but instead of crying out, he simply wrenched his arm to the side and then slammed Victor in the side of the face with his other fist.
Right. Two of them.
Tiring of this game, Victor lunged up with his free hand, clamping it over the bear shifter’s face. He then forced a drop of water out of his palm and up the attacker’s nose. Not enough to give away what he was or what he could do to any of the nearby humans, but just enough to force the bear shifter to roll off him, hacking and coughing as he tried to clear his nostrils and lungs.
He was on his knees before the next shifter came at him. Instead of trying to block the attack, Victor rushed at the big Ursa, wrapping him up in a bear hug, pinning his arms at his side. Then he squeezed.
The Ursa roared, pulled his head back and slammed it into Victor. The water dragon stumbled back a step, recovered, and then returned the favor with all the force he could muster.
The bear shifter dropped to the floor in a pile of limbs, unconscious.
“Ouch,” Victor cursed, forced to squint slightly from the pain the blow had given him, a feedback loop driven directly into his brain. “Now I remember why I don’t use those on the regular.”
Two of the Ursa were out of the fight completely, two others worse for wear. But as he crouched in preparation to renew the attack, he caught a glimpse of Cheryl. She had the expected look of anger and shock but hidden deep in the normally playful brown of her eyes was something else. Something that Victor realized only just then he didn’t enjoy seeing.
Disappointment.
He could handle her being angry. Upset. The loathing and disdain she exuded whenever he was around were normal, and if anything, he enjoyed egging her on, trying to make it worse.
But this was something he just did not like seeing.
“Take them and get out of here,” he said tiredly, gesturing at the two unconscious shifters. “Otherwise, you join them. It’s that simple.”
The leader, who—it turned out—was the one he’d broken the nose of, watched Victor warily for several seconds, as if trying to ascertain what his real motives were.
“If I wanted you all on the ground, you’d be there by now,” Victor snarled. “Take them and get out of here!”
The leader nodded sharply, gestured at his comrade, and together they grabbed up their friends and retreated. Victor stood still, staring at Cheryl without speaking until he heard a vehicle start up behind him.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” he said quietly.
Why are you apologizing?
Because it was the right thing to do.
Cheryl was a human. No matter what he thought of her, she was a human, and a woman on top of that. While she wasn’t weak, this sort of primitive action wasn’t something she needed to be exposed to. Not in Victor’s old-school mind.
The disappointment he’d seen on her face came home to roost in full-blown shame, confusing the water dragon even more. What was going on with him? Why couldn’t he keep his brain focused on the task at hand—recovering his treasure?
Instead of saying anything, however, Cheryl just shook her head and whirled, heading back inside.
“Wait! Cheryl!” he called and went after her.
Though he still couldn’t understand why.
Chapter 14
“Wait?” she hissed, spinning around, the door held open in her hand.
The staff of Leblanc had already headed back inside. They seemed far less fazed by the events than she was, leading Cheryl to believe this was more of a regular occurrence here than she would have guessed.
“Yes, wait. Let me explain,” Victor said, catching up to her.
“Explain what?” she said, voice dripping acid. “That you felt the urge to nobly leap to my defense, like some sort of old-timey knight who must defend my honor because I’m a helpless damsel? Oooo, won’t somebody please spare the weak female from the sight of blood! Woe is me, whatever shall I do! Should I lock myself away in my tower now, never able to leave because of the things I have seen this day?” She glared at him, daring him to answer.
“They touched you,” he said icily.
Cheryl waited for him to continue, to explain, but Victor just stood there stubbornly, as if those three words were enough to justify his e
ntire set of actions.
“One of them put his hand on my back,” she growled. “Sure, it wasn’t welcome, but it wasn’t exactly anything that needed you to come beat him up.”
“You didn’t want it,” he said stubbornly, some of the harshness fading from his voice. “I could tell that.”
“Of course, I didn’t want it. But it would be the same as if you’d touched me. I wouldn’t expect them to come and beat you up if it had been your hand on my back,” she said, wondering what the hell was going on with him. He was acting so weird.
Victor hated her. She knew that. Yet here he was, adamantly insisting he’d been in the right in coming to defend her because…because one of them had put his hand on the small of her back? That made no sense. Why would he care about that?
She watched him absorb her words. There was a flash of…something. Cheryl wasn’t sure what, because she’d never seen that sort of look from him before, though it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. Victor never reacted to whatever had played across his eyes, so oblivious she had to wonder if he even realized it happened.
“They should have stopped,” Victor growled adamantly.
“And you shouldn’t have fought them!” she shouted. “Violence isn’t the answer, you primitive caveman!”
“What would you have me do, then?” Victor asked, standing up tall, as if that was going to help his case.
“Do? I wouldn’t have you do anything, except maybe listen to me! I told you I had it under control. That I was handling it. They were going to leave. I’d explained my situation, and they listened. Unlike you, I might add. But then you came in like a wrecking ball and just had to screw things up even more.”
“I was helping!” he snapped, anger narrowing his eyes.
“Helping? Helping?!” she laughed mockingly. “In what way were you helping, you obstinate asshole? You just made everything worse! Like you do with everything!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Victor challenged, his own voice increasing in level.
“It means that ever since I’ve known you, all you’ve done is butt your head in and fuck things up. First the Outreach Center. Now this. What’s next? Are you going to go to my home and burn it down as the final fuck-you to me? What did I ever do to you, Victor? What? Ever since you first saw me, you’ve been trying to fuck me over for something. I’ve never met you!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, fighting back the tears that were building at the corners of her eyes as her frustrations finally boiled over.
“You blackmailed me!” he started, but she shook her head, raising her hand.
“No. Do not act like I started this. This is on you, Victor. You need to grow up and take some responsibility. I don’t know who you think I am, or what that person did, but I am not them. You need to get that through your head. Stop pretending like you’ve done no wrong.” She sniffed, shaking her head. “You need to grow up, Victor. A lot.”
Then she pushed past him, heading toward her car instead of back inside. There was nothing left for her in there. Before she could go more than half a dozen steps, however, a high-pitched noise grew rapidly, revealing itself seconds later to be the sound of a very expensive engine.
A beautiful, sleek car pulled up into the valet parking. Cheryl had no idea what it was, but just looking at it made her wallet feel lighter, as if she needed to pay simply to view it. The engine died.
“Oh, great,” Victor muttered.
The driver’s side door opened upward, not outward, and a figure emerged. One that Cheryl knew, though she’d only met him once, and not when his face had worn such a mask of anger either.
“Aaric,” she said, trying to force a smile onto her face. “How are you?”
“I think you know,” he snapped. “We need to talk. Inside. Now,” he added in a blisteringly furious low tone when she didn’t immediately start walking.
“No.”
The big man looked down at her in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“I said no. I’m not going inside. I have nothing to say to either of you. I have done nothing wrong. It’s this asshole who’s fucking everything up,” she said, tossing a thumb over her right shoulder where she assumed Victor still stood.
“Then both of you. Inside. Right. Now,” Aaric rumbled.
Cheryl thought about ignoring it and heading home, but there was something dangerously uncertain in Aaric’s eyes. He was pissed.
What is it that I could have done to upset him? Cheryl wondered. Curiosity won out, and so she turned on her heel with a sniff and headed back for the entrance, ignoring Victor completely.
One way or another, this was bound to be interesting, if nothing else.
Chapter 15
A growing feeling of dread came over Victor as he followed the others inside.
“Everyone out!” Aaric shouted as he entered the restaurant.
Patrons and staff all stopped to stare at the current head of House Draconis, though they were not aware of the power he currently wielded. Standing at his side, Victor just shrugged.
“I’d do as he says, people,” was all he added.
Nobody moved.
“Now!” Aaric thundered.
For a moment, Victor thought the fire dragon was going to unleash a stream of flame across the restaurant to encourage everyone to depart, but Aaric maintained enough calm not to do that, thankfully.
But when only a few people started to get up, Aaric grabbed a table and flung it across the restaurant with casual ease. He didn’t speak, but then, after such a display, nor did he have to. The restaurant emptied in good order.
“Was that really necessary?” Cheryl asked calmly. “They were just enjoying their food or trying to earn an honest dollar. You didn’t have to take over the entire restaurant just to talk to us.”
Victor wanted to correct her. To tell her that it wasn’t to talk to them. It was in case either he or Aaric lost his temper and did something they couldn’t explain away. A precautionary measure, which spoke to just how angry Aaric had to be. Something had gone wrong, but the question still remained as to what.
“I just came from the proposed site of our new mine,” Aaric said, shooting Victor a knowing glance.
The blood in Victor’s veins chilled somewhat at that mention. He knew what the purpose of the mine was. Why it was so important. And why it had to be completed as soon as possible.
When Aaric had first been awakened, it had been by a pair of elder dragon shifters who were nearing the time they would pass on. Evil had been coming, they had said, and the dragons weren’t waking naturally to fight it. So, they had awoken them on their own.
Aaric had tracked down the evil which turned out to be a vampire, a species thought extinct since the end of the Roman Empire nearly fifteen-hundred years earlier. As he’d told Victor, the vampire had found something at the site where the Outreach Center was going to go. Something more ancient than the vampire, and perhaps more powerful.
A Naagloshii. A native-American skinwalker. Shapeshifter. An evil creature, who, if it had returned to full power, would have been more than a match for Aaric.
But the dragon had prevailed in time, killing the vampire and re-entombing the Naagloshii. This mine they were going to dig, on the complete opposite side of Plymouth Falls, was going to be the new location of the tomb. Somewhere the vampires would never find it, or be able to access it, buried under hundreds of feet of earth and rock. Hidden forever.
Victor had seen the tomb, had felt the power within. He believed that. What he had a hard time believing was that vampires were back. Aaric had warned him, had told him, but he had no proof. There hadn’t been an attack in months. If they were truly back, they would know that they should attack now, before more dragons were awoken. If House Draconis reached its full strength, the vampires wouldn’t stand a chance.
All that aside, if something had gone on at the mine, then Victor understood why Aaric was so worked up. But what could have gone wrong? And why would he bring Cheryl into i
t? Unless…
Unless she’s already started to fuck with the other projects.
“Yes, I remember seeing the site plans for your mine,” Cheryl said calmly. “But what, may I ask, does that have to do with me? I’m not in charge of that.”
“Then perhaps you could explain why this ‘stop work’ order has your signature on it?” Aaric hissed, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket and shoving it at her. “There should have been dozens of people on site, digging deep. But when I arrived, it was empty. Nobody was there!” he bellowed.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Victor knew he was screwed now. She’d started things early. The liar! She must have known he wouldn’t play ball with her entirely and had gone ahead and started messing with everything else.
“Oh. That. Well, maybe you should ask Victor here about that one,” Cheryl said calmly, refusing to take the piece of paper. “I’m sure he can explain.”
Aaric’s head swiveled around like a turret. “You had a hand in this? You? You know why that mine is so important. Why we must get it dug as soon as possible. So why would you interfere?”
Victor inhaled, buying himself a few seconds as he searched for the right words.
“She’s trying to play you,” he said at last. “I had nothing to do with the mine specifically. Cheryl here is trying to extort more from us on the Outreach Center, and she threatened to interfere with our other projects if I didn’t do as she wanted. Except,” he growled, “I did agree to her demands. So, I’m not sure why this went ahead after all?”
He specifically did not mention what the demands were or why she was making them. There was still a chance he could salvage this if everyone played ball. All Cheryl had to do, was not mention the downsizing, but instead stick with the language he’d used, the vagueness.
“Is this true?” Aaric snapped, head whipping back around.