dragons breath 02 - dancing with flames
Page 1
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title page
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Dragon Terms Glossary
Dragon Clan Names
About Susan Illene
Acknowledgments
Table of Contents
Title page
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Dragon Terms Glossary
Dragon Clan Names
About Susan Illene
Acknowledgments
Dancing with
Flames
by Susan Illene
Dancing with Flames
Copyright © 2016 by Susan Illene
All right reserved.
This book, whole or in part, may not be copied, scanned, or reproduced by electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying or the implementation of any type of storage or retrieval system) without the express written permission of the author, except where permitted by law. Please do not participate or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials. Purchase only authorized editions.
www.susanillene.com
ISBN-10: 0986336122
ISBN-13: 978-0-9863361-2-6
Images obtained for the creation of this novel’s cover were licensed for use from Teresa Yeh photography and Jeff Brown Graphics. Design by Claudia McKinney at Phat Puppy Art.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events portrayed within its pages are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not meant to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead, undead, or mostly dead is purely coincidental.
Dedication
To the marigolds that return every spring, long after those who planted them are gone.
Chapter 1
Bailey
Traveling down city streets in a post-apocalyptic world could come with all sorts of challenges—testing my driving skills being one of them. There were cracks and potholes in the roads that I couldn’t always avoid, causing my truck to bump along with jaw-rattling annoyance. Damaged vehicles, fallen trees, and downed power lines also made regular appearances that required careful maneuvering to get around.
Then there was the hazardous trash, debris, and broken glass littering the pavement that seemed to flourish now that there was no one in charge of picking up the refuse anymore. Even if you got past those obstacles, you still suffered from the smell. In some areas, the strong odor coming from the rotting food and human waste was so overpowering it could make you gag. I hadn’t realized how valuable government services were until they were gone—and unlikely to ever come back.
How had we reached this point in the span of four months? Another dimension had collided with ours, bringing numerous natural disasters and fire-breathing dragons with it. Oh, and let’s not forget magic, because why not? It had been used by sorcerers to banish dragons in the first place, after all.
Who would’ve guessed some of those mythical creatures we grew up hearing about might have actually been real? I’d never dreamed civilization could come crumbling down so fast, or that I would have such an important role to play in the new era that arose after it. Times were dark, but I suspected they were about to get even darker.
“Look out!” Conrad yelled from the passenger seat of my truck.
I slammed on the brakes as a frantic, middle-aged man with short, graying hair dashed onto the road fifty feet ahead and waved his arms. His blue-collared shirt was covered in sweat, his jeans worn and dirt-encrusted, and wild desperation filled his eyes—not a good combination. Conrad and I scanned the area, searching for any signs of an attack. It wouldn’t be the first time we’d been ambushed while driving through town.
“See anything?” I asked Conrad.
He frowned. “Nope, no one.”
Not necessarily a good sign—they could be hiding. Through my open window, nothing moved aside from a black cat sitting on a porch across the street. It stared at us with disdain, flicking its tail. This neighborhood appeared cleaner than most and only had light structural damage. Other than a few burned down homes and a crater in the middle of the street ahead, it was still habitable. A strong sign people lived nearby, though none other than the one guy had revealed themselves.
The beleaguered man came over to the side of my truck, gasping for breath. I grabbed my pistol from the console and pointed it at his chest. “Don’t come any closer.”
“Please,” the man said urgently, lifting his hands high. “I have to talk to you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you want?”
“My name is Keith Barbour, and I live a few blocks from here.” He nodded toward the east. “I’m looking for the dragon slayer. Are you her?”
My gaze hardened further. “Why do you ask?”
I had only taken down a handful of the beasts since my first kill a month ago. Sure, a few people were always lurking nearby to witness my battles, but I hadn’t realized how fast word would spread. Norman—a suburb of Oklahoma City—had lost over half its population in the last few months from people either dying or fleeing town. Those who remained stayed out of sight unless they wanted to be seen. The ones who did show their faces for long, well, they tended to have less than altruistic plans in mind. I had learned to trust no one outside my close circle of friends.
“I heard on the radio there’s a dragon slayer in town. Hank said it's a woman driving a black truck and wearing some kind of weird leather get-up." He cocked his head at me. "How many of those with that description you think are driving around here? Though, I did expect you to be...uh, bigger."
Damn Hank and his need to report everything.
The descripti
on was close enough, though our only surviving radio announcer had probably said more. I was part Cherokee Indian, part Malaysian, and part white. That combo gave me straight, black hair, brown eyes with a slight slant to them, and perpetually tan skin. No one could ever quite nail my features down, so most people just described me as mixed. I was used to getting comments on my petite size, though. Nobody thought I would have the strength to kill something five times bigger than me—sometimes the dragons were even larger than that—until they watched me do it. Little did they know super-human strength came with the job.
“Keep an eye out,” I ordered Conrad.
“Don’t worry.” He grinned, holding a shotgun he’d grabbed from the backseat. “Ain’t nothing getting’ by me.”
He was a guy I knew from college before the apocalypse, but we hadn’t become good friends until after all hell broke loose. The dark-skinned nineteen-year-old was a few years younger than me, but he’d come in handy more than once in dangerous situations. Nobody had my back more than he did, which was good since I slayed dragons as a profession now and ran into trouble rather often.
I lowered my pistol a fraction and addressed Keith. “So what do you want from me?”
Some of the tension in the man’s shoulders eased. “A dragon took my neighbor’s five-year-old son a few days ago. It’s been back every night since, showing up around sunset looking for more of our kids. We’ve been keeping them hidden in an underground storm shelter, but when the beast can’t get to them, it tears up our neighborhood instead. We’ve tried shooting at it—” he paused to shudder, “but it’s like trying to stop a tank with a pellet gun. The dragon just kills anyone who gets in its way.”
This was different than any other story I’d heard. Dragons attacked and burned humans on a regular basis with horrifying results, but they had a reason for that—even if it wasn’t a great one. They were angry about getting banished to another dimension for a thousand years. Over there, they had lived in a barren land with not much in the way of food sources. It had been a struggle to survive for all that time. When they returned four months ago, they came back with a terrifying vengeance—despite the fact it was sorcerers who had sent them away, not us. But humans got the blame as well since we stayed on Earth while they suffered in Kederrawien, the dragon dimension where they came from.
Regardless of the animalistic nature of the beasts, they were much smarter than people assumed. Most humans didn’t have a prayer of taking one down without major firepower, such as rockets, and the element of surprise. Acquiring either was almost impossible at this point. The military had stopped their air strikes months ago and Oklahoma—as well as much of the country from what I’d heard—now had to fend for itself.
A small number of dragons had a taste for human flesh and would prey upon people for food rather than animals, but they always targeted adults—more meat on their bones. This was a whole new angle for them to seek out children, and a rather unsettling one if it was true. Not that dragons snacking on anyone sat well with me, but I’d had to adjust to a lot of horrible things since their arrival. Death took on a whole new meaning when you faced it every day.
“You’re sure they’re after your children?” I asked, skeptical.
“Yes.” Keith nodded. “Heard about some other neighborhoods havin’ the same troubles, too. There’s been at least a few kids taken in the last week or so. We think the dragons can smell ‘em.”
I closed my eyes, mourning the lost children. There was no way they could have survived dragons taking them. All the beasts had to do was hold and carry them for a few moments before their skin would begin to get scorched. Dragon bodies were way too hot for humans to touch, which was why you did not want to be captured alive by them.
Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes again. I couldn’t let the dragon take any more children. I had planned to spend the day gathering food supplies. All the grocery stores had been picked clean, but there were a few gardens planted before the apocalypse that Conrad and I had found growing unattended. At least twice a week we went to pick any ripe vegetables to bring back to our neighborhood. We also had some fruit trees we checked on frequently. When you had almost thirty mouths to feed and winter approaching, you spent almost every spare moment looking for ways to survive for as long as possible.
“We’re going to need to take a look at your neighborhood,” I said, resolved to commit my day to this. It was for a good cause, and it would be worth it, but I had a feeling more and more people would be seeking me out now that they knew what I could do.
Relief filled the man’s eyes. “Oh, thank God. I’ll show you the way.”
***
“Is it me, or is it hot?” Conrad asked.
He crouched next to me where we took shelter under a pavilion. We’d set up a lure in the large open park next to Keith’s neighborhood with the hope of drawing the dragon away from people. I would need plenty of room to maneuver while fighting and Conrad would need a place to hide once it got started. Only one of us was impervious to fire.
“Yeah, too hot for late September.” I scrunched my nose. “This bait idea of yours better work. I can still smell it, and it’s at least two hundred feet away.”
Conrad had gotten the grand idea that the best method to draw the dragon to us was to put out the rotting carcass of a dead possum we’d found on the road. The rancid stench would overpower the hungry dragon’s senses and bring him toward the park. Their kind might prefer bigger meals, but they liked easy ones even better. We had hung the roadkill from a tree branch where flies now buzzed around it. I had developed a strong stomach, but I still tried to avoid looking at the poor animal too closely.
“I got a cousin who hunts alligators down in the Louisiana bayou—or at least he did,” Conrad paused. For a moment, the pain of not knowing what became of his family flashed into his brown eyes, but then he shook himself. “Anyway, he used to swear by this trick. I figure since dragons are sort of like reptiles, it might work.”
“Let’s hope so,” I said, wishing my sense of smell hadn’t become keener since I completed the rite of passage that all born slayers had to perform. Basically, it involved killing a dragon and eating its heart. And yes, it tasted like chicken.
“It’s coming. It’s coming!” Keith screamed from across the street. He stood on his porch and pointed toward the north where a green dragon approached low in the sky, soaring not more than fifty feet above the rooftops.
I gestured for him to take cover and lifted my crossbow. Conrad had already raised his. We’d been training on them for weeks with Aidan—a dragon shape-shifter who’d become my secret ally against the pure dragons—but this was the first time I’d actually put my new weapon to use in live combat.
Sweat beaded atop my forehead as I waited for the creature to come closer. Its body was about the size of a juvenile elephant, and it had wide, leathery-green wings that spanned at least twenty feet. The closer it flew, the faster my heart pumped and the more my instincts drove me to attack. I was a slayer and my sole purpose in life was to kill the fire-breathing beasts who threatened humans.
The dragon soared lower over Keith’s neighborhood, and I held my breath. Was it searching for the children? The wind shifted, and the creature’s head turned toward the park. It had caught the scent of our bait. I gripped my crossbow, holding it steady though every fiber of my being wanted to forget the plan and dash across the field. The dragon was coming. Just a few more seconds and it would be close enough. I didn’t have Aidan here to help this time. If I was going to pull this off, I had to make sure I had the advantage.
As soon as the dragon flew into the park, I let loose my zaphiriam bolt, made of a special black metal with red veins that could pierce dragon scales. It was also impervious to high heat and fire. The bolt clipped the edge of the creature’s left wing, not even slowing it down. The beast probably thought a bug hit it.
“Damn it all to hell.” I was so going to ask Aidan for a different range weapon.
No matter how much I practiced with the crossbow, it didn’t feel as natural to me as a sword. Aidan had mentioned that not everything would come easily, even as a slayer, and that some weaponry wouldn’t be a good fit for me at all. It was a matter of trying different things until I found the ones that worked.
Unfortunately, pistols and rifles weren’t an option since lead bullets hardly fazed dragons. We couldn’t replace them with zaphiriam because the metal was too hard to make effective ammunition. The accuracy wouldn’t be as high, and it would wear out the gun barrels too quickly. Aidan couldn’t manufacture bullets in his clan’s forges anyway since his skills were limited to blades, such as knives and swords. For everything else, he relied on the weapons makers at his fortress to craft what he needed, but dragon shape-shifters didn’t use firearms, so we were out of luck there.
There was no help for it now. The beast had landed next to the tree with the bait. This would be the next best chance to take it down while it was distracted with food. I dropped my weapon and leaped to my feet.
“Bailey, hold up,” Conrad hissed, aiming his own crossbow.
“Hurry!”
As the dragon chomped down on the hanging bait, Conrad let loose his bolt and nailed the beast in its belly. The creature let out a loud roar, dropping its food.
“Got that bastard!” Conrad grinned up at me. “Now that’s how it’s done.”
Of course, it would work just fine for him, dammit.