The Steel Tower (Dragons of Midnight Book 2)

by Silver Milan

  Ariel focused her attention on the incoming vampires and unleashed invisible attacks that sent waves of the creatures flying into the air, their bodies ripping apart.

  Witches among the vampires fought back, throwing black missiles that appeared as smears of Death her way. Ariel deflected them easily. He could hear bullets ricocheting away from her as well, and holes appeared in the stage around her. Ordinarily defensive shields of Air created by humans and lesser shifters weren’t powerful enough to block bullets, but with the huge amount of Strength she could Siphon through that bone chest, the gunfire couldn’t touch her.

  More black missiles kept coming, and more bullets, so that soon all she could do was defend, even with the immense reserves of Strength flooding into her. There were simply too many witches among the vampires. Plus, she was probably growing exhausted: funneling as much Strength as she was through her body would quickly burn out even the most seasoned of Wayfarers.

  She glanced askance at the pride members. “Run! I can’t hold them!”

  “We won’t leave you!” Cliff said.

  “You have to!” Ariel said. “Jett will get me out of here. Now go!”

  Reluctantly, the lions and other shifters released their prisoners and turned and fled.

  “White Swords, go with them,” Jett said from the corner of his mouth, keeping Savanna pinned. “I will protect her now. Mathis, get Gwendoline out of here.”

  Flame and Brazen had transformed into humans. Viper, Cliff and Razor went to them and helped the injured dragons limp toward several waiting trucks. Jett hadn’t noticed the vehicles before, but apparently some members of the pride had been waiting outside the walls and breached the gate during the fighting.

  Gwendoline had reverted to human form as well, and Mathis helped her into one of the trucks.

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Mathis called to Jett.

  “Go!” Jett said.

  The other lions and shifters reached the trucks and loaded into the beds, then the vehicles sped toward the entrance.

  Still fending off the vampiric Weaves, Ariel released the many Wayfarers she held, letting the Air binds dissipate so that the witches fell to the ground.

  “Run!” she shouted at them. “If you want to live!”

  The freed Wayfarers dashed for the main entrance, calling at the trucks to wait for them. Jett doubted the drivers would slow… the witches were on their own.

  Releasing the Wayfarers apparently freed up some of Ariel’s reserves, because the black missiles coming at her began to deflect farther away from her body. But the Death works quickly closed again as the vampire witches among the horde focused everything they had on her.

  Savanna had stopped moving underneath Jett.

  Just in time, too, because Ariel was nearly overwhelmed. There were so many black smears coming at her that they formed a permanent cloud in front of her.

  Jett released the dead dragon and vaulted across the field, landing directly in front of the stage and placing himself between Ariel and the vampires. The Death Weaves hit him and fell away harmlessly.

  “Get on my back, lioness,” Jett commanded as the seemingly endless horde of vampires closed.

  Ariel transformed, leaped onto his hind leg, and nimbly scrambled onto his back.

  “Dig in your claws to hang on,” Jett said.

  She did. It felt like a light scratch.

  He took flight.

  Jett made it only to the wall before a powerful bolt of black lightning struck him from below. It tore right through his wing. He plunged.

  He landed just inside the wall with a thunderous crash.

  “Jett!” Ariel said. “Are you all right?”

  Pain jolted through his entire right side. That lightning had hit more than his wing.

  He raised his head, resting it on top of the wall, his long neck forming a bridge between his back and the walkway.

  “Climb my neck,” Jett said. “Get out of here. Go.”

  He swiveled one eye to peer at her, but she didn’t move. Behind him, the vampire vanguard was quickly closing. Smears of black Death were ripping across the sky toward them.

  Toward her.

  “Go!” he commanded. He tried to let compulsion flood his words, but he was too weak to summon the Ability.

  Ariel reverted to human form.

  “No,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I won’t leave without you.”

  “I can’t let you die,” Jett said. “I’d never forgive myself.”

  “I won’t leave without you!” she repeated.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” he lied.

  She hesitated, perhaps sensing the lie.

  The Death missiles were almost upon them.

  With a growl he slid his head away from the wall and twisted his neck until his jaws were right above her. Then he gently scooped up her naked body in his mouth and lifted her over the wall.

  “Jett no!” Ariel said.

  He dropped her, and she transformed in mid-fall before vanishing from view. She’d survive. She was a shifter.

  “Someday you’ll understand why I did this,” Jett said.

  Then he withdrew his head from the wall and turned to face the horde.

  The Death missiles struck, rolling away from his scales harmlessly.

  He breathed fire as the first of the creatures came within range, and their bodies lit up, the screams echoing across the field. Jett wouldn’t sell them his life cheaply.

  The vampires began to split up, moving to either side, obviously intending to outflank him. Some of them were already scaling the walls beside him.

  He breathed his flames and swatted the vampires with his limbs and tail, but it was no use, there were too many.

  He felt vampires leaping down onto his back from the wall. He beat them away, but more simply crawled over him. It was a sickening feeling.

  Something large clasped around his neck and he began to shrink.

  What?

  He clawed at the collar that pressed into his large neck, expecting it to loosen as he became smaller, but it shrunk with him. He had heard of these. Special restraining bands that could be applied to a shifter in dragon form, which would decrease in size along with the shifter as he returned to human shape.

  Soon it was done and he lay naked inside a ring of vampires that left him a space of about two paces in every direction. He had a large bloody gash running up his side where the black lightning had struck him earlier, but he was already healing, albeit slowly.

  He scrambled to his feet.

  The ring of vampires maintained their ground. Some of the women among them leered as their gazes dropped to his crotch.

  Beyond them, the slumped form of the red dragon stirred. The vampires ignored her as she groggily rose to her feet, and then swung her massive head toward Jett. Her eyes flared red, and she approached, lumbering. She began to shrink as she did so.

  Soon the dragon was gone, and the vampires parted to form a small corridor to allow Savanna to join him in the ring. The naked woman seemed not to notice the lascivious looks many of the male vampires were giving her.

  “But I killed you,” Jett said.

  “How can you kill that which is already dead?” a mocking voice called from somewhere within the vampire ranks.

  The ring of creatures parted once more, though this time giving far more clearance than they had Savanna.

  A man and woman casually approached, the man dressed in the regal clothes of a king. He wore a silk shirt of scarlet and gold over gray leggings, with tall, silver-rimmed boots at his feet. An ermine-lined cloak fell from his shoulders. He had a single gauntlet of bone on his left hand; it was tight-fitting, like a glove. In his right, he carried a bone scepter topped by an onyx. His big eyes, glimmering with cruelty, shone the bright blue of the midnight moon, surrounded by the pale, flawless skin of an ageless face that could have been chiseled by Michelangelo. His long nose hooked down at the bottom like a Falcon’s beak, above b
lood-colored lips whose fangs were currently retracted, hidden away so that he almost appeared human.

  Aldam, member of the Council of Seven. Vampire king of the Middle East.

  “As salaamu alaykum, Jeddah,” Aldam said, speaking the traditional Arabic welcome.

  Jett nodded slowly. He understood now why Savanna had smelled the way she had, and tasted of rot. “Why am I not surprised to find you here?”

  Aldam shrugged. “The Wayfarers are our ancient enemy. Vampires and dragons should band together, as we did centuries ago, and this time not stop until we’ve wiped them out forever.” He bared his teeth in a feral grin. “Oh, but I’ve forgotten. You’re no longer in a position of power. You’ve abandoned the Council of Seven. Abdicated your throne.”

  “Let me slay him, sire,” the small woman standing at his side said. Jett turned his attention on her. Her beauty was striking. Her eyes were a blue to rival Aldam’s, and her face was just as flawless, just as pale. She wore a black, sleeveless dress that accentuated her figure and revealed her ample bosom. A dark blue cape hung from her shoulders, the hood lowered to reveal black hair that flowed down the front of her body to her hips. A tiara of dragon bone held her locks away from her brow while a bone necklace adorned with a blue agate gem sat on her throat. The look was completed by bone sleeves that enveloped her arms entirely.

  “So you’re the one who did this to me,” Jett said. It took a very strong witch to injure a dragon.

  She ignored the question, and continued speaking to Aldam. “When I raise him, he will be yours to control, like Savanna Kettleburn.”

  “No, Isabel,” Aldam said. “If you make him undead, his blood will be useless to me. We wasted Savanna already, though I suppose we had no choice in that regard. The infiltration of the Tower required her death. But this one… we can keep him all to ourselves. Feed, and let him heal. Then feed all over again. Speaking of which... open him up!”

  A vampire couldn’t drink Jett’s blood directly, even while he was collared… he could simply harden his skin against their fangs. But with the help of a witch…

  The woman, Isabel, spread her arms wide. Jett hovered into the air, and his arms and legs separated, forced apart by invisible Weaves of Air until he was spread-eagled. Isabel widened her fingers and pinpricks of blood emerged from the tribal tattoos on his forearms. Crimson droplets floated away from him, toward Aldam.

  The vampire king opened his mouth and his canines deployed eagerly. Soon Jett was connected to him by the streams of blood that flowed from his forearms to Aldam’s fangs.

  Jett found himself growing weaker by the moment, and he thought he was going to black out. He was convinced that Aldam wouldn’t be able to control himself. With the taste, and the sheer power of Jett’s dragon blood flowing through his veins, Aldam would feed until Jett was dead.

  But then the flow stopped and Jett plunged to the ground, free of his binds. He hit hard, as if the invisible strings had been abruptly cut.

  28

  Jett looked up, wondering if someone had killed the witch, but from the satisfied expression on her face, he realized that Isabel had purposely dropped him.

  Aldam’s eyes sparkled a bright blue and he wiped his lips with the back of the palm that held the scepter. The vampire king was far too weak in the Strength to be considered a witch, but with Jett’s dragon blood flowing through his veins…

  Aldam glanced at the ring of vampires. His eyes roved their ranks for a moment, then he lifted the hand sheathed by a bone gauntlet and crushed it into a tight fist. A score of vampires were pulverized where they stood, bodies imploding as if squashed by giant, invisible fingers.

  Aldam nodded gleefully. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” His flaring blue eyes dropped to Jett, who was kneeling before him. “Yes, we will keep you alive. Your blood will power my conquests.” He raised his scepter and glanced over his shoulder. “Clothe and chain him.”

  A vampire minion rushed forward and tossed a folded garment at Jett’s feet, dropping a pair of boots on top.

  “Dress!” the vampire hissed.

  His side was healing well, but Jett didn’t want them to know that, so he flinched in exaggerated agony as he pulled on the plain black shirt and pants, and slipped on the boots.

  When he was clothed, another vampire wrapped shackles around Jett’s hands, binding his wrists together in front of him.

  “All of this was staged,” Jett said. His eyes flicked toward Savanna. “You weren’t really going to execute me, were you?”

  “Of course not,” Aldam agreed. “It was all for show. I wanted to start a war between the Wayfarers and Midnight. While you dragons fought the witches, I would strike from behind, taking out the headquarters of you both, starting with the weaker of the two: Midnight. Nothing would have happened to you while you were inside the chest. We’d cut the feed to the lid camera, show a fake video clip of your beheading, and then produce a headless body at some point, with the features altered to resemble your own. Meanwhile, you would have been mine to do with as I pleased. But your little troop of lions and dragons has spoiled my carefully laid plans. Pity.”

  “Midnight will never let you get away with this,” Jett said. “When my brother finds out you’re keeping me prisoner, he’ll send an army to take this place. You’ll face an attack on two fronts: the Wayfarers and the dragons.”

  “I have already sent someone to take care of your brother,” Aldam said. “We needed an insider at Midnight in case Gabriel refused to start the war, after all. In fact, I believe you have already met her.”

  Jett thought immediately of the vampire witch who had attacked him outside the Blue Hurricane camp. The witch whose body the pride had never found, and who had left all those dead crows lying around her fallen minions.

  “Yes, I see you have met her,” Aldam said.

  “Somehow I don’t think my brother has anything to worry about from the likes of her,” Jett said, showing more confidence than he felt.

  “We shall see,” Aldam said.

  “Even if my brother doesn’t come, the Wayfarers will,” Jett said. “They’ll retake this tower.”

  “Oh, they can have it,” Aldam said. “We have to abandon it now anyway, after you and your shifters forced us to reveal ourselves. It’s value to us is of little strategic importance now.” Aldam glanced at the black clouds that ate up the sky and frowned. He looked back at Jett. “Can you walk?”

  Holding his side, Jett took a few tentative steps, then nodded. He was still playacting more than anything else, pretending his injury was worse than it was.

  “Good. Because I wouldn’t want to give you the honor of being carried by one of us.” Aldam stepped forward and shoved Jett toward the ring of vampires behind him. The creatures parted, forming a corridor across the field.

  Jett entered that corridor. Aldam walked on his right, Isabel, his left. Savanna followed behind them like a zombie: she hadn’t said a word since her revival.

  Jett scanned the walkways that topped the wall beside him, but saw only vampires up there.

  “If you’re looking for your friends,” Aldam said. “You won’t find them. My scouts tell me their vehicles drove away as fast as they could, taking the only road from here. None of them turned back. Your friends have abandoned you.”

  Jett gazed down the field, past the aisle formed by the parted vampires.

  “We’re returning to the Steel Tower?” Jett asked.

  “Temporarily,” Aldam answered. “We’ve dug a passageway underneath. It leads from the Tower to a satellite coven we’ve created outside the walls. A forward operating base, if you will. Big enough to hold a thousand vampires. After that, when night comes, we head to the Belgrade airport and take flight to the Middle East. We will be long gone by the time the witches arrive.”

  They reached the end of the vampire ranks and an honor guard broke away, surrounding Jett, the king, Isabel and Savanna as they proceeded toward the Steel Tower. Behind them, the vampire horde retre
ated from the field and followed.

  As Jett neared the main entrance, the dark cloud that blotted out the sun began to recede, and the vampire host clambered up the Tower exterior in a rush, its members vanishing inside every opening—windows, vents, balconies.

  Aldam paused just inside the Tower, in the grand hall that composed the foyer, and positioned himself and his honor guard off to the side so that the other vampires could enter without issue. The ordinary LED lights overhead had no effect on their bodies. Jett suspected the Wayfarers would be upgrading those, soon.

  Jett couldn’t help but gaze at the mural painted into the ceiling. The dragon at the head of the vampire host had been painted over, replaced by an image of Aldam so that it seemed the vampire king was facing off against the witch.

  “That’s a good way to have the Wayfarers start a war with you,” Jett commented.

  Aldam shrugged. “I’ll tell Queen Yvonne it’s fairly obvious another coven did that, looking to place the blame on me. I’ll say it was probably Raquel.” Vampire Queen of Africa.

  “How very Machiavellian of you,” Jett said dryly.

  “Thank you,” Aldam said, as if Jett had paid him the highest compliment. The sarcasm was apparently lost on him.

  The vampire host continued to rush inside, flowing down into the stairwells leading to the basement. When the last of them had entered, rays of sunlight burst through the entrance, and Jett knew the black cloud had cleared from the sky completely.

  Aldam waved toward the entrance, and the two vampires stationed there shut the tall doors with a resounding thud, blocking out the rays of natural light. The vampire king crossed the entrance hall with his escort, and waited for the stairwells to empty as those vampires that had entered via the upper levels made their way down. When it was clear, two members of his honor guard went first, followed by himself, Isabel, and Savanna. Jett followed behind them, with the remaining vampires of the escort crowding in after him.

  Aldam and his witch just made their first mistake: letting me out of their sight.