by Wol-vriey
Ma questioned her again.
The goddess nodded, her beautiful face serious. She spoke emphatically now, gesturing with a delicate white hand at a bottle in a cabinet, pausing occasionally to sip blood.
Ma turned back to Malone. “Goddess say dragon sperm cure.”
Now Malone was confused. “Dragonreich?”
Yang Yang finished up her bowl of blood and froze again into immobility.
Ma nodded. “Powerful secret ancient remedy. Not modern drug abusers think.”
“Only problem is,” Jade added, her pretty face serious, “she warns of great danger if we use it. She says it’s better we let Posh die.”
Malone stared at the once-again motionless white sculpture. “And of course—she didn’t say what the danger was.”
Jade nodded, then shrugged.
“Can’t she just fucking speak plainly?”
“She goddess,” Ma reminded him. “Immortal enjoy puzzling mortal.
Malone grunted. He pointed to the twitching woman on the floor. “I honestly can’t think of any danger worse than this mess she’s in.” He looked from Jade to Ma. “I say we do it.”
“No good,” Ma said. “Better let her die. Goddess never wrong.”
“Let’s do it, Ma,” Jade said. “She’s a friend of mine.”
Ma nodded. “Okay, do, but not blame me if skinless girl explode, infect all with falling-off skin.”
CHAPTER 33
Malone, Posh, Jade, Ma
Jade got the bottle of dragonreich down from the cabinet shelf.
She tipped six tablespoon’s measure of the powder into a large soup ladle, then dissolved it in water.
Using the legs of a stool, Malone rolled Posh over on her back. Then he wedged a handful of chopsticks between her skinless lips and forced her mouth open.
Jade dangled the ladle over Posh’s lips and dripped the milky liquid between them.
Posh moaned as the liquid filled her throat. From out of her cocoon of pain, her eyes gaped sightlessly at the ceiling.
“Don’t spit it out,” Jade said. “It’ll cure you.”
Posh managed to nod. Malone heaved a sigh of relief when she swallowed and kept swallowing.
“That’s the dose the goddess advised,” Jade said when the ladle was empty. “Now we wait.”
***
The shed strips of Posh’s skin lay about her like flayed snakes. Her raw face was a portrait of Hell’s torment.
They waited.
It happened slowly, from the inside out. White substance filled out Posh’s flesh. It looked like putty, like wet plaster. It built up on her like it was being poured into a mold.
The white substance became new skin over Posh’s face and arms. She grew hair out of her scalp again.
On her back, eyes shut, she breathed gently, a sculpture in white clay.
“Except that she’s all white, she looks normal enough,” Jade said. “I wonder what the danger—”
“She’s not done yet,” Malone whispered.
Jade saw what he meant. Posh’s body was now swelling. It burst through her clothes, spraying skin strips everywhere.
“This very not good,” Ma said.
“She’s growing a tail,” Jade said.
“And teeth and claws,” Malone said.
Posh, eyes still shut, grew larger and larger. Her skin visibly altered into glazed ceramic. Patterned with roses.
“She becoming dragon,” Ma said.
Malone considered. Yes, a ceramic/clay dragon.
Large white reptilian wings grew out of Posh’s back.
Malone looked questioningly at Jade.
“No,” Ma interjected into the loaded silence, “she not overdose. Goddess say one ladle.”
Posh stopped growing. She sat up on her haunches like a dog would. She looked around. Her eyes were snake yellow; her teeth transparent nails; her tongue hung out of her mouth like a dog’s.
Her wings flapped slowly behind her.
She looked from one to the next of them. Like she was making up her mind about something.
Then she bent and picked up her shed-skin-snakes and ate them.
“This, danger goddess warn of,” Ma said calmly.
Malone turned to look at Ma. Aged face serene, she nodded back. “Yes. Much best kill her before. Now she attack.”
The white ceramic dragon wolfed down all her erstwhile skin.
Then she looked at Malone. Her gaze caressed his face, inquiringly.
Malone sighed. “She remembers me,” he told Ma. “We’ll be . . . oh no!”
He’d noticed that Posh was inhaling air, her body visibly swelling.
The woman-dragon swung her head toward Jade.
Malone was a second faster. He dove at Jade, barreling into her before the blast of fire hit her. Incandescence streamed over them both. They crashed to the floor together.
Ma screamed. Malone looked over at her.
Damn! he thought. Immense clawed feet clinking as she walked, wings gently beating, Posh was advancing on Ma, herding her into a corner.
Ma looked at Malone in confusion. “Immunity spells not work! She not Chinese dragon!”
This was the second time Malone had ever seen Ma Cure flustered. The only other time was during the golem incident. This was more serious than he’d thought.
“We’ve got to help Ma,” he told Jade over his shoulder.
She didn’t reply.
Malone looked back. He winced. The fall had knocked Jade out. A thin line of blood ran from the forehead cut where her head had struck a table leg.
Malone leapt to his feet.
Smoke billowing from her snout, Posh was now snapping at Ma, while Ma fended her off with a stool.
Then Posh swiped the stool out of Ma’s hands, grabbed her with sharp white claws.
Ma gaped at Malone from around the woman-dragon. “Do something! There is . . . arggghhh!”
Posh had bitten into Ma, bending her head so she chomped down on Ma’s body.
Malone ran across the room. He remembered Posh had a gun in her handbag.
He got the blaster out and spun around.
Carrying Ma in her mouth, Posh was attempting to climb out of the window. She was having difficulty, however,—Ma’s head and legs wouldn’t go through the window the way Posh held her clamped in her jaws.
Malone sighted on Posh’s wings, then hit her with a long pulse of fire.
The flame glittered like glazing on her porcelain pinions. It zipped like lightning around her painted ceramic body, then faded harmlessly away.
Posh ignored it. She continued trying to force Ma’s head and legs out of the window. Blood overflowed her jaws from the myriad punctures her jagged teeth had made in Ma’s torso.
Malone was very worried. He knew Ma’s head wouldn’t die if her borrowed body did, but if Posh bit into her head . . .
Malone shot the woman-dragon again. Again, no effect. He stared at the gun in disbelief, then looked at Ma helplessly.
“Fire not kill dragon!” Ma shrieked, flopping like a toy in Posh’s mouth. “She child of fire! Use Dead God sword!”
Posh jerked Ma back then and rammed her entire body against the window frame. The whack knocked Ma out cold. It also broke Ma’s right thigh. Blood flooded the window ledge.
Malone rushed and got down the Dead God’s sword from its wall hanger. He rushed back at Posh-dragon.
Encouraged by her success in breaking Ma’s right leg, Posh was now backing off for another charge at the window frame.
Sword raised overhead, Malone stopped his charge and quietly waited for her to reach him.
Posh backed up closer to him. Her flower-patterned tail swayed beside Malone like a gator’s. Her huge white wings looked like unfurling sails.
Malone brought the sword down. But not on the ceramic dragon woman.
He realized he couldn’t kill Posh—it would be a hell of an asshole way to repay the woman who’d saved him from certain death.
Instead
, he chopped through Ma’s chest.
The Dead God’s Sword separated flesh from flesh like it was slicing paper. Ma’s head and shoulders dropped to the floor as Posh rushed at the window again.
This time she had no trouble getting through. A moment later the woman-dragon was airborne with her grisly burden, then a mere speck in the night sky.
Malone walked over and picked up Ma’s remains.
“Thanks for saving Ma,” Jade said softly.
Malone looked over at her. She was just getting up, holding her head and scowling.
She winced. “Thanks also for giving me the world’s biggest headache.”
Malone smiled. “You’re welcome.” He held up Ma’s remains. “What now?”
Jade walked over and took the grisly burden from him. She chanted in Chinese a bit. Ma’s neck and shoulders fell out of the paper loop that connected it to her head.
She walked over to the cabinet that had held the bottle of dragonreich. She cleared a space on a shelf and placed Ma’s head on it.
Then she turned and grinned at Malone.
“She’ll keep till I find her a new body. She won’t be awake of course, but . . .” She shrugged. “Better than being dead.”
She looked pointedly at Malone. “What are you going to do about Posh? She’s EXTREMELY dangerous now.” She winced. “You really should have killed her. Now she’s likely to go around eating people.”
Malone sighed. Jade was right. “I’ll keep an eye out for her. Hopefully she’ll just join the other dragons, or break herself to bits on a rock when landing.” He frowned grimly. “If she makes a nuisance of herself, I’ll hunt her down.”
Jade shook her head at him. “You’d better.”
Wow, Malone thought, what the hell was I thinking? That chick is likely to start eating her way through half of Boston. He remembered Ma’s perplexed look. Damn! Even the Chinese aren’t safe from her!
***
“That sure is one sharp sword,” Malone said while Jade hung the Dead God’s Sword back on the wall.
“It’s from the Old Country. It once belonged to Emperor Taizong of the Tang Dynasty. Before succeeding to the throne, he was a great soldier and adventurer. The legend is, he found the sword in the Tianshan Mountains, in a cave filled with beings not entirely human. They were all dead, but perfectly preserved. One of the corpses spoke to him in his mind and told him to take the sword.”
Malone nodded. “Lots of strange things in the Old Country.”
“Much stranger things here,” Jade said. “I never ever saw anyone become a dragon before. And she’s made of porcelain, like a china plate.” She grinned. “That still makes her Chinese, I guess.”
***
Jade found Malone an old black kung fu suit to wear. It had white knot-buttons and drawstring pants. She also found him a pair of slip-ons.
“Nice fit,” he said, buttoning up the jacket.
“They used to be Uncle Cheung Lee’s. He once had a body about your size.”
Malone smiled tightly.
He picked up Rachel’s head and headed for the door.
“Today’s a day for headless women,” Jade quipped.
Malone grinned wearily back at her. Now that the day’s rollercoaster of excitement and its corresponding adrenalin rush was done, all he wanted to do was sleep forever.
“You sure you won’t just crash here tonight?” Jade asked. “You look almost as shit as Posh did before we supposedly cured her.”
Malone shook his head. He tapped the plastic-wrapped head under his arm. “Her mum lives in North End. Easier to reach from my place if I wake up late.”
He hugged Jade.
Leaving, he paused at the door. “Just in case I forget to mention it later: When you get Ma her new body, make it an adult one. You know how she’s always complaining about not being able to have sex.”
Jade laughed. “Yeah, Ma would like that.”
CHAPTER 34
Malone
Malone’s car was still where he’d left it when he’d come to consult Yang Yang over Rachel’s disappearance. He ignored the shocked looks of those prostitutes out daring the night’s cold, threw Rachel’s head onto the front passenger seat, then got in.
Jade had packed him some medicines to accelerate his healing. While driving back to Beacon Hill, he chewed on one of these—a ball of brown gummy substance that stank like unwashed armpit and tasted like peppermint.
‘Horse medicine balls,’ Jade had called them. Malone now almost believed she’d meant that literally.
This time of night most of Boston’s streets were deserted.
Once out of Chinatown, Malone drove under The Grid for as long as possible. Looking east, he saw distant sparkles of moonlight diffracted through dragons’ fiberglass bodies.
No point making a snack of oneself.
Leaving The Grid at Derne Street junction, Malone momentarily drove through a patch of darkness—a beetle obscuring the moon with its immense bulk.
He ignored it. Beetles were safe, so long as they didn’t take a shit on you. Then the sheer immensity of their bowel evacuation overwhelmed any attempt to evade it. Like being buried underground.
Malone had seen that happen once. A parked school bus drenched in a mountain of white poop that had drowned the kids inside before they could be rescued.
He kicked the unpleasant memory from his mind.
He looked at Rachel Fischer’s head and smiled. America was safe from her proposed war of conquest, at least. There was no way Frank could take over the entire dragon-fucked US of A. with only three hundred battle-ready robots.
***
Home again.
Malone turned onto Joy Street and rolled home. He parked the car outside his bungalow with great relief.
He got the key from the glove compartment and let himself in.
The first things he noticed once he put the light on were the bloody bones strewn everywhere in his office.
Malone immediately got out his gun. Shit! there’s a fucking dino in my house. This is what I get for not living under The Grid.
Tense—tiredness once again forgotten—he quick-ly scanned the carnage.
In addition to the bones, there were lengths of intestine draped over his stuffed gorilla chairs. Then he realized that the hill of ash in the middle of the carpet had previously been his office table. And saw that the wall behind it had a burnt patch on it.
That meant dragon.
But in a house? In my house?
Then it hit Malone. In dismay, he smacked his forehead. Oh, good heavens, no! She didn’t come back here, did she? But Posh had called herself his new girlfriend.
He forcibly calmed himself. He walked to the office’s inner door and listened. No sound of tramping, clinking feet.
He felt relief. Maybe she’d left.
To make certain, he walked quickly through the bungalow, checking each room.
He pushed open the bedroom door and found she hadn’t left.
Posh lay naked and asleep in Malone’s bed. Her body was fully back to normal now. Her skin was pink and pure again.
Her breasts rose and fell with her unlabored breathing.
Malone smiled when he saw her face. Yeah, she is great-looking. Nice breasts too.
He held back from smoothing her tousled auburn hair.
He sat beside her on the bed, entranced by how cute, how innocent she looked in sleep. Posh dozed on, oblivious to his presence.
Malone thought.
The bones scattered all over his office told a different story about this lovely woman in his bed.
Two hours ago, she was a dragon, spitting fire and attacking people.
Malone now realized his huge dilemma. She looks fine now—cured. But . . . the goddess said GREAT danger. but, maybe she just meant Ma.
But does one incident count as GREAT? But I can’t just kill her, and I can’t kick her out, either. But she said she’s a hooker . . . okay, used to be—she’s retired. But she mentioned a pi
mp. What about him? Sheeeit! This is fucking complicated. Okay, so she stays. At least this way I’ll be able to keep an eye on her. And kill her if she attacks anyone else.
Even thinking this last however was hard for him. Deadly or not, Malone suspected killing Posh would prove extremely hard for him to do.
Yeah, you are my new girlfriend, he thought, realizing he was already falling for Posh.
CHAPTER 35
Sara & Jeff
There was a dragon on Sara Fischer’s front lawn. It was there courtesy of the Forks, and although it wasn’t harming anyone, it was making everyone in the Fischer Mansion nervous.
Sara—who never drank before lunch—had already had four whiskies today, and it wasn’t yet eleven. Just the sight of the HUGE creature with its see-through body like solid water was unnerving.
The Forks were out there with the dragon. They weren’t ‘pronging’ it. This part bothered/scared Sara. The Forks were talking to the dragon.
Standing by her living room window, she could clearly hear their modulated hums as they spoke; then in the pauses between these, the beast’s own replies.
Its answering growls were indecipherable as language, but were clearly meant to be interpreted as such.
Sara could cope with the Forks humming, but this dragon was taking liberty for license.
This fucking beast has to go, she thought angrily.
“Come away from the window, Sara,” Jeff slurred drunkenly. “You’re just agitating yourself.”
The erstwhile US president was the person least bothered by the dragon’s presence outside.
Leaving the drapes open, Sara went to sit beside him.
Jeff took her hand and patted it. “You know, I see it clearly now. Earth is Hell now. The dragons are God’s fire; but solid and alive—not the lake of brimstone we’ve always believed in.”
Sara snorted. “If we’re in Hell, where’s Satan?”
“In New York.” His booze-gaze cleared for a moment. “I’m serious, Sara. The Devil does live in New York City now. I met him once.”