by Aaron Crash
A face appeared in Steven’s mind. The features were shadowy and indistinct except he had two diamonds were his eyes should’ve been.
Come, oh lost son. Come, heir of Stefan Drokharis. Come to us. And perish like so many have perished before you.
This was some villainous bullshit. Roy Right, presumably, and Steven knew exactly what he needed to do.
He’d better do it quick, however, because Sabina’s dose of Animus was leaking out of him fast.
He jogged up to Aria and Tessa. For a moment, it was just the three of them again. They’d come a long way since their first fight on the plains of Colorado by the St. Vrain River.
And Steven would be triple damned if he was going to die in California of all places. And to die in L.A.? Yuck. Never. Gross.
He told them his plan. Aria nodded. Tessa laughed. This was going to work.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
PRUDENCE HAD LEARNED a very simple version of Magica Cura while living with Steven Drokharis. Chazzie and her time in Odessa had made it clear that they wouldn’t be able to pull the strings of their puppets all the time, and sooner or later, they’d have to fight and fight big.
The war zone on the beach was testament to that.
“Magica Cura,” Pru whispered and felt the Animus leave her.
Chazzie didn’t pause. “Come on, sister, we have to catch up to them.” She stayed human, and in her hands were the M4s with taped flip-clips for when a girl needed a little extra lovin’.
Pru couldn’t switch to human because she needed her Homo Draconis strength to carry the M60E6, which was a gas-operated, disintegrating link, belt-fed, air-cooled machine gun. She wrapped the belt of NATO ammo, 7.62 millimeters of sting, around her arm. It wasn’t going to be enough bullets. She’d have to make do.
The Texas twins caught up to Steven, and he told them the plan: runnin’, gunnin’, and funnin’. Not a lot of talk. Good. Pru was too keyed up to chat.
They sped through the cave. Aria’s fancy new knives lit the way.
When they came to a dead end, Tessa hissed, “Incanto.” The magic hiding the secret passageway melted away. The narrow crevice opened into the Americos Chamber. The master’s chamber.
The place stank of decayed seaweed and sea elephant corpses. The right side of the cave was open to the ocean, and the waves were rolling in. The left side of the cave sloped down to the sand. The ceiling wasn’t so high, only about thirty feet, but it arced over them, creating a roof of multicolored stone. In the center of the big chamber, covered by sand, harassed by the surf, were the three statues around a table. Okay, that was new—a table instead of a basin. Carved into the stone was the eye, and that was where Steven needed to get to, according to Cactus Bill. He was out in the thick of things, fighting next to Javier Jones. Poor Bill, he wasn’t much of a combat Magician, but Steven had called all hands on deck for this one.
In front of the three statues was Roy Right’s coalition of Dragonlord Primes: the leader stood in a suit and sunglasses. Beside him was Abner Savedra, barefoot, shirtless, in jeans, showing off his thick muscles and hacked-up skin. Looked like he’d spent 1988 inside of a blender and then the next thirty years picking the scabs. He was an ugly mess of scars. And then there was Jem Osprey, a huge biker dude with enough earrings to open his own piercing shop. Pru had heard about the earrings. Douchebag.
Roy laughed and did the villain thing. “So, Steven Drokharis, did you really think you could—”
The Wayne twins followed Steven’s plan and opened fire. Roy Right and his coalition took cover. Chazzie’s dual M4s rattled in each of her arms. As for Pru, she let the belt of NATO ammo dangle as she chipped away the statues, trying to put a round in Roy Right’s sleazy ass. She did manage to blow the sunglasses off his face, but it was a glancing blow.
Tessa had both of her Peacekeepers banging out death.
Aria, in her partial form, coughed out lightning bolts.
Steven sprinted toward the table. He nearly made it. Then the ocean surged in and took him out at the knees. Swimming on the surf was the pale dragon, the eunuch, and Pru had to smile. Wow, she was seeing Bruno Illick for the first time. It was kinda fun to meet good gossip in person.
The party had just gotten interesting. Then? Even more so.
Pru’s legs were kicked out from under her. She went down with only about two feet of ammo belt left. A wound opened on Chazzie’s forehead and blood dripped down. She stopped firing, wincing at the blow, but neither saw who had struck them. There had been a flash of orange and then a blur.
Uchiko appeared out of nowhere, her sickle-chain whirling around her head. She flung the curved blade at the blur. A burst of orange later, the kusarigama was knocked away. Then Uchiko was battered to the ground.
Whoever or whatever this thing was, it moved like greased lightning and was as tough as Texas nails.
Pru saw footprints appear in the sand, one after another after another. From the claw marks, this was some Homo Draconis moving at the speed of light. Pru tsked. “Fighting and then running away? That’s just rude.”
She raised her machine gun, anticipated where the next footprints would be, and opened fire. The dragon was cut down, her thigh muscles mutilated. She rolled through the sand and then into the next wave, which dragged her body out. The speedster wasn’t going to be a problem now that she had legs full of bullets.
Pru tried to make sure Uchiko was okay, but the ninja and her sickle-chain were gone. Back into the shadows for that girl.
Chazzie was having a hard time seeing. She’d gotten to her feet, but the blood in her eyes made her wince. From out of the shadows ran a short, squat guy with a baseball bat. It was one of Savedra’s Willbreakers. He went for Chazzie. Pru shot at him, but her bullets sparked off a shield in silver sparks.
Chazzie, though, had better luck. Her M4 rattled out magic rounds. He might have had the bat, but it was Chastity Virtue Wayne who hit the home run. Her bullets thunked into his chest and lifted him off his feet. She then fired into a Warling advancing on her with knives. More shield spells blocked her bullets, saving knifey boy from numerous perforations.
A short, wide black man was near him, his hands glowing purple. Where did Savedra get his Willbreakers? They all looked so similar, like gym rats whose parents fed them nothing but coffee, cigarettes, and protein powder. Pru had clipped an M67 hand grenade to her gun. She yanked it off and threw it onto the sand, and the resulting explosion took out the Magician. Without the shield, Chazzie found her target, and the Warling with the knives was blown back against the wall and into the sand.
Dammit, if they could feed an easy kill to Steven, he could absorb the Animus, and yet there didn’t seem to be an easy kill in the master’s chamber. And no feast, either.
A crackling crimson ball of energy struck Chazzie in the chest, hitting her dead-on. She went down, dropping both guns.
The world seemed to stop. Chazzie was down. Might be dead. And to lose her sister? Pru wasn’t going to be walking out of this battle if that happened. She’d fight until someone put her out of her misery.
She swiveled her machine gun. She only had a foot of ammo belt left. That was roughly twelve bullets, since each link was around one inch, give or take.
Steven was ten feet from the Ever-Seeing Eye, and he wasn’t looking good. He was out of Animus and he looked it.
Between him and freedom were three of the most powerful Dragonlords on the continent. Behind him was the deadliest Dragonsoul assassin on the planet.
There was no way Steven Drokharis was ever going to make it to that table.
SAVEDRA GRITTED HIS teeth. His Willbreakers were probably dead. The Wayne twins hadn’t paused. The minute Roy Right opened his mouth, they’d fired on them, forcing them all to take cover behind the statues.
Roy had shield spells glowing around him, and they were deflecting the gunslinger chick’s bullets as well as her spells. The Indian woman’s daggers crackled with electricity, and he watched her take out Eckles
in his bear form. She’d opened his throat with one length of lightning and stabbed him in the heart with the other. She then turned into her partial form and drove her tail into George’s lupine snout before breathing fire onto his long body, igniting his fur. The smell and smoke drifted through the cavern.
“Dammit.” Savedra turned to the NorCal Prime. “Jem, we have to—”
“We don’t have to do anything,” Osprey spat. “You have to die.”
The NorCal Prime grabbed Savedra. Osprey’s hands shifted into claws that ripped into Savedra’s shoulders.
That treacherous son of a bitch.
Osprey drove him into the statue of the Magician. The big biker’s face extended into a snake’s grin, that maw full of teeth. He snapped at Savedra, nearly taking off his nose.
The NorCal bastard had made promises, he’d sworn oaths; breaking them must’ve wrecked his Animus, but he didn’t care. Savedra grunted. He could at least respect his fellow Dragonsoul’s commitment to his grudges.
Savedra ducked Osprey’s next lunge, rolled across the sand, and went True Form. He was a black dragon with muddy brown scales on his back. The bones of his spine would rub the ceiling, but the SoCal Prime had no choice. Osprey followed suit, turning into a massive maroon-and-gold dragon. The stink of him, pine trees and ocean, swept into Savedra’s nostrils.
The pair faced off above the statues and table. Steven Drokharis, Roy Right, all of it was forgotten.
Osprey breathed fire, and Savedra countered with ArcticWind. The steam, spit, and fury enveloped the cave. Savedra cracked his tail and struck the ceiling, bringing chunks down. The entire Americos Chamber shuddered from their fight.
STEVEN FELL TO HIS knees. He rolled to avoid the muddy-brown dragon’s foot, then shivered when a rain of icy water hit him. Another wave washed in, knocking him over and throwing water on the battling dragons above him.
He needed to get to the Ever-Seeing Eye, but he was out of Animus again. Then he felt it, his strength flowing out of him even more.
ShadowStrength.
A voice laughed from somewhere, in his head maybe? Roy Right. Diamonds for eyes.
Steven blinked. Then Uchiko appeared at his side. “Use me again, Steven-dono.”
An arrow hit her shoulder, and she went down with a cry. The pale dragon, Bruno Illick, stood in the surf near where it opened to the ocean. He was in his Homo Draconis form, a white bow in his pale fists, a leather quiver full of bone arrows on his back. The thing didn’t look good. He was missing scales. His pink eyes were oozing pus from an infection. Had he flown directly from Bali to California?
Steven used the last of his energy to cast another AnimusChain spell. He touched Uchiko, and yes, he did pull from her, but he didn’t take all of it. Only enough for a single spell.
“No, silly man, take it all!” Uchiko demanded.
So he did. She crumpled. An instant later, “Incanto!” Steven dispelled the ShadowStrength.
An arrow thudded into the dirt next to him. Bruno had to duck as Pru used the last of her bullets to keep him down. When she was out of ammo, the pale dragon flung white Impetim missiles at her. Tessa protected the twin with her pink shields. The gunslinger then took her turn and tried to put a bullet in Bruno. He disappeared back under the waves.
A line of midnight blue energy tore across the sand, flinging it aside and radiating under Tessa’s shields. It was some kind of area of effect Impetim spell from Roy Right. The blue magic swirled around Tessa’s body, lifted her up, and slammed her down on the sand. The Impetim magic didn’t go away; it held her there, like snakes made of sapphire light.
Meanwhile, Savedra and Osprey, the California Primes, continued to fight, making their way around the cave, causing chaos. Aria dodged a black tail, ducked under the golden-maroon beast, and rolled across the sand.
The Indian woman shouted to him, “Steven! My Animus! It is yours!”
Steven found Aria’s energy and channeled it into him. She collapsed onto the sand. Two more of his Escort lost in seconds.
Steven took off running across the sand. Arrows tracked his footsteps. He dared use SerpentGrace to speed him along, and then a bat hit him, across the face, and he hit the ground, his bell rung.
Roy Right stood over him, holding a steel baseball bat. Where had he gotten that from? His suit was soaked black, his sunglasses were off, and the diamonds in his eyes twinkled.
Sabina’s voice drifted into his head. The Dragon Slayer took his eyes. He is not Roy Right. He parades around as a Dragonlord, but he is so much more.
She wasn’t in the room, he could feel it, and he thought that the message might be from the past. With the Latina Magician, that was quite possible.
Lightning crackled above them, from the muddy brown beast and from the golden-maroon worm, ripping through each other, drawing blood, removing scales, crisping flesh.
“Probably shouldn’t have teamed up with those guys,” Steven wheezed. “Probably should’ve avoided the Dragon Slayer a thousand years ago.”
“What did you say?” the creature parading as Roy Right demanded.
Then Roy let out a scream. An ear vanished in a mist of blood. Bullets tracked down his head. That was from Pru, walking toward them, firing both assault rifles, in outstretched arms. She blasted Roy with the M4 in her left hand. She raked the pale dragon with the M4 in her right.
Seeing the pink Homo Draconis with dual M4s made Steven pause. The Wayne twins were something else.
Pru cried out. She wailed, shifting into her human form, naked and fragile. The assault rifles fell from her hands. Either the pale dragon or Roy Right was draining her energy using AnimusChain.
She gritted her teeth, fighting to stay conscious. “Take what’s left, my Prime. Take it and kill these sons of bitches.”
“But I’m too late. If we both take your Animus, you might die!” he yelled.
Tears gleamed in her eyes. Her voice came out rough. “My life for you, Steven Drokharis. My life for you.”
He reached into Pru’s swirling pink core. He saw that her energy was being siphoned to the pale dragon in the surf. He also saw that her reserves were huge, and she’d been filled with Animus from numerous kills.
He took her remaining energy, stealing it away from Bruno Illick. Pru sank to the sand. A wave picked her up and rolled her across the room next to her sister before it retreated.
Steven was submerged for a time, and he held his breath, but he got his feet on the ground. When the surf rolled back, he leapt up. Roy Right had recovered from Pru’s bullets.
Steven shoved past him and dashed forward.
He cut his left hand on Samael’s Lash, dove, and slammed his hand down on the Ever-Seeing Eye. A wave of energy blasted out of the table. The statues exploded into fragments, and Steven felt the force of the energy fill him.
He had full Animus. Finally, the party could begin.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
PRUDENCE CAME CONSCIOUS. The ocean must’ve pushed up next to her sister. She was still in the master’s chamber, which was terrible, and there was still a huge battle going on, awful, but Chazzie was there. She crawled and held Chazzie’s cold hand.
Pru didn’t have the energy to check for a pulse. She was done for, out of Animus, but she didn’t want to be out of the fight. She’d given Steven everything, and it was the right thing to do. He was the Dragonlord she wanted to serve, in victory, sure, but even in defeat.
She figured she’d get up and battle more in a minute but needed a bit of rest. She and Chazzie had done their duty. The straight-up fighting sure felt cleaner than the scheming. Pru had to laugh at herself. Was she becoming some noble Dragonsoul goody two-shoes? She hoped not. Then she fell away into nothingness, which was a nice place to be.
And if Chazzie were dead? Pru didn’t plan on coming back.
“Excrucior!” Steven stood on the table, whirling his chain-whip sword over his head, blocking Bruno Illick’s arrows and then laying blades down on Roy Right.
But the old beast grew out of his suit, growing bigger, bigger, until he wasn’t in his True Form, but he was the biggest Homo Draconis that Steven had ever seen. Midnight blue scales covered him, and he had two great horns sweeping back from his head. Those diamond eyes flickered with hellfire. Bone spikes rose from his skin across his arms, over his shoulders, even spitting out of ribs. The skin opened to allow them through. This was FleshForge, without a doubt. He looked positively demonic. He yanked Samael’s Lash out of Steven’s hands and threw it behind him.
Savedra finally got his teeth into his foe’s golden-maroon throat. The resulting chomp rained blood down on them, and Jem Osprey hit the sand, human and dead. The next wave took care of the corpse.
Savedra roared in victory until Roy Right’s midnight blue starbursts crackled into his flesh. Savedra, already shredded from his fight with Osprey, staggered back, turned human, and fell into the sand. His fingers worked at the sand spasmodically. He wasn’t dead yet, but that was only a matter of time.
Roy wasn’t happy that his coalition had fallen apart at the most inopportune time. He’d stolen Savedra’s energy and strength, and now the blue demon lunged to rip Steven apart.
Steven shouted, “Impetim!” and peppered the huge Homo Draconis with his spinning black stars.
Roy staggered back.
Tessa ran and leapt onto the table. She must’ve cast Incanto to dispel Roy’s magic coils. She also had healed herself at some stage, though her T-shirt was still bloody.
Despite it all, the gunslinger and Steven were the only good guys still standing. The women of Steven’s Escort lay scattered across the chamber.
Bruno Illick’s quiver was empty. He waded in to stand on the sand, a pale beast, breathing hard. He roared and pulled back on the bow; nothing was there for a minute, but then a shadowy arrow appeared between his fingers. The shadow became flame.