“I agree,” she whispered, planting a line of soft kisses down the length of my neck.
I couldn't help but feel a bit aroused – and then a little guilty for my natural reaction to the woman I loved. We were on the clock, so to speak, and it didn't seem like the most appropriate time for a little quickie.
Whispering in my ear, she said, “That's why we need to let him come to us. If he's killing Rangers, all we need to do is be the bait. We simply have to put ourselves in a prime location to be attacked and wait for him to come for us.”
Damn. I hadn't even considered that. I was so busy trying to formulate the perfect plan to identify or draw the killer out, that I'd overlooked the simplest, most obvious, and probably most effective way of doing that. That was one more reason why I loved that girl. She was usually a couple of steps ahead of me.
“In the meantime, let's have a little fun,” she said, sliding her hand down and grabbing my crotch as she kissed me.
No, I knew we weren't going to get it on in the alleyway – we were actually both a bit more modest than that. But we did make out like a couple of horny teenagers. All the while though, we were alert. Our bodies tensed and ready. We were listening to the noises around us, filtering out the benign from the potentially ominous. We made out for about ten minutes, but attracted no unusual attention – people in Hollywood were used to seeing people doing far worse than we were doing in darkened alleyways.
If the creature that was murdering our Rangers was hunting tonight – as we suspected he might be – we'd made ourselves a prime target.
Let him come to us. We were content to pretend to be distracted and just wait it out. If he was out there, he wasn't going to be able to resist. Given that Rangers were his target, there was a finite number in the city at any one time. It wasn't like he was running around murdering random people. He obviously wanted to kill Rangers. For what purpose, I had no idea. But he very obviously had a specific type.
And what better way to lure a killer than to let him think he was going to catch us off guard and unaware?
It was a perfect plan. I hoped.
A sound pulled our attention to the end of the alley. We looked and saw a homeless man headed our way. He was swerving and staggering drunkenly as he walked toward us. We both kept our eyes on him – just in case, but the man collapsed to the ground at the entrance to the alley and didn't get back up. I was a little concerned that he'd had a heart attack or something, but he rolled over and screamed incoherently at the pavement below him.
I looked at Onda and raised an eyebrow, asking with my eyes if she thought that could be our guy. She simply shook her head. I didn't think it was – the murderer didn't seem to me like the type who'd rely on a ruse or some sort of subterfuge. Given the reports about the attacks Quint had us study up on, I felt like the attacker would be more straightforward. Bold. He was killing Rangers, which implied a level of ferocity and skill – not to mention intelligence – uncommon in most of the creatures we hunted.
No, the idea about the homeless man on the ground at the head of the alleyway didn't feel right. Hollywood had a lot of problems, a lot of homeless people. And by all appearances, this was just another homeless man.
“What if he doesn't take the bait?” I asked. “What if the killer has moved on?”
Onda shrugged. “Then we have to figure something else out,” she said. “But without knowing who or what –”
She got quiet and her body suddenly grew tense. We both did. There was an unusual sound echoing around the alley. It was odd and yet, persistent. And was obvious enough that even the homeless man at the end of the alley managed to sit up.
“Who's there?” he called out.
Onda and I reached beneath our coats and drew our swords at the same time and I realized a split second later what the sound was – steel scraping along concrete. It was a sword. The moment the realization hit me, a dark shadow of a figure dropped down from above, smoothly and silently landing on the ground behind us – only inches away from my beloved.
There wasn't a doubt in my mind that this was who we'd been looking for. This was the man who'd been killing Rangers. Except, he wasn't really a man. With an anger and horror dawning in my soul, I looked upon the man standing before us and knew he was Dragonborn – and a traitor to our people.
“My, my,” the figure said. “Two for one deal tonight. My lucky day, I guess.”
My body reacted on pure adrenaline and instinct. I pushed Onda out of the way and lunged, driving the point of my sword at the man. It was a clumsy and awkward attack, but my primary goal was to get Onda out of the way since her back was to him. Unsurprisingly, the man moved out of the way before the point of my blade got anywhere near him. But Onda was safe, that was what was important.
In a flash, she was back on her feet, her sword at the ready. She quickly drew her long dagger with the curved blade and the man before us flashed a predatory grin.
“You two have some spunk,” he said. “I admire that. I can use that.”
“Why are you killing Rangers?” I asked.
The man shrugged. “Because they refused to get with the program.”
“And what program is that?”
His face grew serious and there seemed to be genuine anger in his eyes. “Reclaiming our homeland,” he said. “Breaking these shackles they've put on us and ruling like we were meant to rule.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
The man stood before us, looking as non-threatening as possible. He hadn't yet drawn a blade, he simply stood there looking at us, as if he wanted to have a conversation.
“I know who you two are, Glyn and Onda,” he said. “I know quite a bit about you, actually.”
“And who in the hell are you?” Onda spat.
“I'm somebody who can help you attain your rightful spot at the top of the food chain,” he said.
Onda and I shared a look, not knowing what he was blathering on about. I was beginning to think he was out of his mind and was simply raving.
“Tell me this,” he said. “Why is it you're here? Why do you serve in the world of man?”
“What does it matter to you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Call it curiosity.”
“Because we believe in our mission,” Onda snapped. “We believe what we do is honorable. Noble. We believe in standing up for those who cannot defend themselves.”
The man applauded. “Bravo,” he said. “The brainwashing has apparently worked well on the two of you.”
“Shut up,” I snapped. “Draw your blades and let's do this.”
He shook his head. “I have no desire to kill either of you,” he said. “No, as a matter of fact, I want you to join me.”
“Join you in what?” I asked.
“In ruling this world,” he said simply. “Why should we fight for these humans? What do they provide us?”
I stared at the man, completely flabbergasted. To do what we did – to be Rangers – was the highest honor among our people. We were not meant to rule the world of man. We were meant to defend it. And in large part, defend it from creatures that were there because of our people.
“Unless you've forgotten,” Onda said. “We are here atoning for the mistakes of our people. We –”
“Yeah, I've heard the same speech from every single Ranger I've killed,” he said. “You all are true believers and I guess I have to respect that. But I can give you so much more. I know the two of you better than you think. I want you by my side.”
“Who in the hell are you?” I snapped.
“He's Shadow Clan,” Onda said.
I looked from her to the man who smiled and inclined his head to her. “Indeed.”
“The Shadow Clan is just a myth –”
“Yet one more thing I've heard from all of the Rangers I've killed,” he said. “I assure you we are quite real. We are legion and we will take over Chondelai. And once we do that, we will rule the world of man as well. Now, you can either b
e a part of that – or not. I make this offer but once, so choose wisely. And believe me when I say, I would rather have the pair of you by my side than be forced to kill you –”
Onda was in motion before he even finished his sentence. She closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, slicing with her sword as she thrust with her dagger. The man was fast – possibly faster than even Onda. His blades were in his hand without me being aware that he'd even moved. Steel rang on steel as he parried her attack and danced back a few steps.
“I would rather this not happen this way,” he said.
“The Shadow Clan are a disease,” Onda spat. “A blight on our people. You need to be cut out like cancer and killed. Every last one of you.”
The man sighed. “Believe me when I say, I don't want this.”
“We do,” I flicked my wrist and launched one of my throwing knives at the man.
He got his sword up in time, but reacted a moment too late. My dagger glanced off his blade and ricocheted upward, leaving a slice along his cheek. The man put his fingertips to the cut and looked at the blood on his hand. Then, he looked at me and I saw the rage flare in his eyes.
“So be it,” he said.
The man threw something at me – a small dart of some sort – but I was able to block it. He launched one at Onda and she too, was able to deflect it. He closed with Onda, his swords weaving in an intricate and almost hypnotizing dance. But she was more than ready for him and parried his every thrust and slice. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she lured him in, using his momentum against him, and then drove her elbow straight into his nose.
From where I stood, I could hear the bones break and the man grunted in pain, taking several quick steps backward. I took a moment to look at the dart he'd thrown at us and noticed that it was an injectable – filled with silver. Our weakness. If those darts had hit their mark, he would have killed the both of us. I stooped down and picked one up off the ground.
“Not very sporting,” I said. “Silver injectables? That's how you're getting the drop on the Rangers you've been murdering.”
Blood flowed from his nose and there was a look of dark rage upon his face. “I'm not in this to be sporting,” he said, his voice carrying a hard edge to it. “I'm in this to win.”
Onda flowed across the ground smoothly, silently, her blades whirling in a deadly spin. The man looked startled for a moment and then recovered quickly, deflecting her attack. I wanted to finish this – finish him – so I waded in to press our attack.
The man wasn't some legendary swordsman. He wasn't the bogeyman we were thinking he was, given his half dozen or so Ranger kills. He was a skilled swordsman, yes. But he wasn't a god. He was simply somebody who exploited the weaknesses of others for his own advantage.
The man danced backward, parrying our thrusts and our slices. He was good with the blade – damn good with the blade – I had to give him credit. But he wasn't immortal and his essence could be snuffed out the same as any of the rest of us.
He backed himself up against a wall. And with Onda and I closing in on either side of him, he had nowhere else to go. His eyes searched all around, looking for an escape route or something he could use to his advantage – but he had nothing. He had nowhere to go.
It was over for him.
But when he looked at me, a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. I could feel the intake and build-up of energy within him and knew exactly what was about to happen.
“Dragonfire!” I called.
Onda was on the move before I'd even finished speaking. The man opened his mouth and I could see the glow of the fire within him. If I didn't move, I was going to be burned to a cinder. But then I saw that it was a feint. A ruse. As I watched him moving, I saw his true plan unfold.
“Onda, no!” I called out.
But it was too late. Believing I was about to be burned alive, she'd rushed in recklessly. Her concern for me was so great, she allowed herself to be careless – which was exactly what the man had been counting on.
As Onda closed on him, he turned his attention to her and lifted the point of his blade. It was all happening in slow motion, but I sprinted directly for him to stop what I knew was about to happen.
I was too late.
The point of his blade pierced Onda straight through the chest. She'd been moving so quickly that he used her momentum against her this time, and she'd been moving so fast, that he let her impale herself upon his sword. I watched in horror as the point of his blade burst out of her back in a spray of blood. Her eyes widened and she looked at me, as if unable to believe what had just happened.
I cried out and drove the point of my blade into the man's side. He grunted and then twisted his body, letting go of his own sword. My momentum carried us forward and I drove him to the ground, driving my blade even deeper into his body. The man cried out but had the strength to punch me, landing a hard shot that knocked me off of him.
He yanked my sword free of his body as I was getting back to my feet, my twin daggers in my hands. He looked at Onda, who writhed upon the ground, his sword protruding from her chest. I took a step toward him, but the man turned and fled, clutching the wound in his side.
I rushed to Onda, dropping to my knees beside her, tears welling in my eyes and a strangled cry of anguish escaping my throat. She looked at me, her eyes wide, her expression one of acceptance.
She knew she was going to die.
Chapter Seven
Vanessa
Hollywood was one of those places I tried to avoid, if at all possible. But it was my best friend's birthday, and Kelsey had heard there was a movie premier going on and she just had to go and see. Given that it was her birthday, and the movie featured one of her favorite actors – Ryan something or other – there didn't seem to be a way I could say no.
Personally, I didn't have the time or inclination to keep up with such things, but it made her happy. And if my best friend wanted to stand outside for hours on end with the hope of catching a glimpse of her Hollywood sweetheart, I'd be right there with her. That's just who I was. Not that I actually thought we'd see him – we were going to be surrounded by hordes of people all trying to do the same thing.
But, we made a night of it. We grabbed dinner, had some drinks, and then stood beside the red carpet – after pushing and shoving our way to the front to get the perfect view. We watched as the cars pulled up, endured the endless flashes of the paparazzi, and got to see the celebrities making their way into the theater. Kelsey was even able to snap a quick picture of Ryan something or other – along with his beautiful blonde bombshell of a wife. But she got to see him, and that made her happy. Which, of course, made me happy.
“So – what do you want to do now, birthday girl?” I said, feeling my energy start to wane, but not wanting to ruin the fun for my best friend.
“You know what? I'm actually tired. I think I want to head home and go to bed,” she laughed. “Does that make me old?”
“Maybe a little,” I said with a wink. “But if you're old, so am I. At least we can be old together.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said. “I've been putting in so much overtime at the office lately, it's really starting to catch up with me. Seriously, this is killing me.”
“Trust me, you're preaching to the choir, Kels,” I said.
Kelsey lived in Long Beach and just needed to hop on the Blue Line train to get her home. I would simply call an Uber. We'd been smart about it and neither one of us had driven, just in case we had a bit too much to drink.
As she headed for the train station, I waved goodbye to my friend and then waited for my Uber. Which because of the red-carpet event, meant that I would be paying more for it thanks to Surge Pricing – and there would be a wait. Annoying, but one of the things you had to deal with in the big city.
I had some time to kill, so I walked down to a little coffee shop, but found it too crowded for my liking. I'd been around a crush of people all night long a
nd was kind of over it, so I waited outside. That's when I heard a cry of pain ring out – a woman's cry of pain.
Being a nurse, I was trained to react to danger. My first instinct wasn't to call for help – it was to find out who'd been hurt and to help. Because that's what I did.
The sound came from an alleyway a block or so down, so I took off running in that direction. When I turned the corner, I nearly ran into a homeless man who was rushing out of the alley. He was mumbling something about swords and dragons to himself as he rushed out of the alley.
Ignoring him, I rushed down the alley to find out who'd been hurt. He kept walking faster, as if to get away from some danger – or maybe from something he'd done. I had to admit that my first thought upon seeing the man was that maybe he'd hurt a woman.
But there was no time to ask questions. If somebody was hurt in the alley, they might need immediate help. As I made my way down the dark, gloomy alley, it occurred to me that perhaps I should have stopped and thought about how dangerous it was to go in alone like that. But I didn't. I rushed headfirst into the situation, and stopped short when I found a woman on the ground, bleeding. A man hovered over her, trying to stem the bleeding from her chest with his hands. He was frantic, sobbing, and doing everything he could to save her.
There was no sign of an attacker – which made me think again, of the homeless man who'd been rushing out of the alley.
But there was no time for that. That was going to be a matter for the police. The woman was badly injured and needed help, so I got down on my knees next to her and started examining her injuries. The man looked at me, his face a mask of grief and confusion by my presence.
“What happened here?” I asked, pulling up her shirt to get a better look at her skin. When the man didn't answer, I looked up at him and snapped, “I'm a nurse. I may be able to help. But I need to know what happened, so pull yourself together.”
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