Taurian

by J. S. Wilder

  “Look, buddy, you lost your phone or something? I can call you a cab or the bus stops back a mile.”

  “I have no phone or bus.” Taurian pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t have time to wait that long. He had to get to Dena…now. “Your car…” wasn’t that what Dena had called these things? “Will suit me fine.”

  The man narrowed his eyes. “I ain’t no taxi driver. Have you been drinking or taken anything illegal?”

  Why was the human getting so agitated? “I am a Renjerian and demand you give me a ride to Dena’s.”

  Instantly, the car pulled over and Taurian jogged to the passenger side. The man leaped out of the car and brandished a silver weapon at him. “Hands on your head.”

  Must be a new way to ride. Taurian obliged the man. “Please hurry. The Tryn has my friend and I must obliterate it before it makes more demons.” And if he was too late, he’d burn this city to the ground. Sorrow choked him at the thought of Dena hurt or dead and believing with her last breath that it was him.

  The man slid around the car, then pushed Taurian toward the back of the car. “Inside.”

  When the car roared down the road, a sick sensation pressed against Taurian’s gut. They were going the wrong way! “Dena’s house is west of the direction we are headed.”

  “Don’t know who this Dena is, but hope she has enough money to bail you out.”

  “Where are you taking me?” Was this human working with the Tryn? Taurian bit the inside of his cheek and tugged on the bracelets to try and free himself. His mind screaming no and rage building like a grass-fire in his veins.

  “I’m taking you to the station for evaluation and lockup.”

  “And how long will that take before you release me?” Taurian asked and gritted his teeth to keep from snapping at the wire cage between them.

  “Depends on how soon we can get ahold of this Dena of yours and if she decides to bail you out of jail.” The man turned onto a side street. “Best case, you’ll be out in a few hours.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Taurian smacked his hand against the metal cage between him and the uniformed man. His captor jerked at the sound.

  “Cut that out or your bail will include paying for a new barrier,” he grumbled, then clicked a black box on his shoulder. “This is Officer Johnson, I've got a possible drug user who's already bent my car's cage, over.”

  “Copy,” a crackly voice answered. “We'll have a room on standby for you.”

  Johnson adjusted the collar of his blue uniform and turned onto a busy street and mumbled to himself, “Just three more days ’til my vacation and a break from this shit.”

  With a snort, Taurian clicked the silver door handle and pushed against the door, but it refused to open. He tapped the window release, but that didn’t budge either and he ground his teeth from not unable to escape.

  “Nice try, but they're locked, asshole,” Johnson spat. “Otherwise, we'd have to scrape your guts off the road.”

  “Look, someone's in trouble and needs help.” Taurian raked a hand through his hair. If he could shift into his Renjerian form, then he'd rip this car apart and fly to Dena. He smashed his fists on his thighs. “I don't care if you believe me, just send help, soldiers...anything.”

  In the tiny mirror anchored to the front window, Johnson met his stare. “You know you sound fucking crazy, right? What would the army do for you?”

  “Try and stop an alien from becoming legions.”

  Johnson laughed and shook his head. “Man, whatever you're on must be some new shit. Aliens, bah.”

  Shots rang out overhead. The car skidded to the side of the street. Five men held guns and fired into a building.

  “Stay here.” Johnson clicked the black box on his shoulder, climbed out of the car. “Suspects firing on Bourbon Street.”

  He raised his gun, aiming at the closest gunman.

  A bullet punched into Johnson's arm, knocking his gun underneath a truck across the street.

  Taurian gritted his teeth and punched the roof inside of Johnson's car.

  “Stupid pig,” the gunman smirked. “Let's send him back in a body bag.”

  “And have every cop after us?” another young man asked. His black jacket had crimson slashes across the arms. “You crazy, man.”

  These fools were going to kill Johnson if he didn’t do something! As much as he was irritated at being detained, the officer was just doing his job. It was no reason to murder someone.

  Taurian smashed against the door to get out of the car. The metal popped, but didn't open. He had to get Johnson to safety before something worse happened.

  “Aren't you tired of cops?” The gunman kicked Johnson in the stomach, then fired another shot into the officer in the side. He laughed. “How many bullets does it take to kill a pig?”

  Pedestrians ran away, a few screaming. In the distance, a wailing sound echoed and four of the armed men tore off down an alley, disappearing. Good, only two lunatics to deal with, but he had to hurry.

  Taurian sat back and thrust his legs at the door with all of his strength. The door ripped off and slid a foot away. He darted out of the car toward the group of men around Johnson.

  “What the fu—” the gunman fired at Taurian.

  The bullets stung his chest like a spiked dolfish, but didn't have the power to knock him off his feet like Dena’s shotgun.

  “Get out of here!” Johnson shouted.

  No way would a Renjerian turn from a fight and let an innocent get hurt or worse. Taurian plowed into the gunman, knocking him to the ground.

  “He's wearing a fucking vest,” the downed man screamed, “shoot him in the head!”

  Taurian stomped on the man's hand. The man squealed like a baby boar until he released the gun. When Taurian stooped to retrieve the weapon another guy shot at Taurian. The bullet whizzed next to his ear, grazing his neck.

  “So you want to play too?” Taurian turned to the man. A bullet struck him in the forehead and Taurian wiped the blood off his face.

  “Wha—?” the other man paled, then ran away.

  Taurian chased after him. Within seconds, he caught him and dragged him back to Johnson.

  The officer was bleeding, but conscious.

  “Have you called for help? What about a physician for your injuries?”

  Johnson nodded, his eyes wide. “How—you were shot in the head a-and there's only a small mark.”

  “I told you. Aliens.” Taurian grinned.

  “Shit!” Johnson moved to scoot behind his car, but winced.

  In the distance, a wailing sound grew louder. The two gunmen trembled as three cars with flashing lights screeched onto the street.

  “I'm sorry,” Taurian squeezed Johnson's shoulder, “but I must help my friend and cannot go with you.” He glanced back at the approaching men and woman. “You will be all right? And enjoy your vacation?”

  Johnson chuckled. “Yes, I will. Go save your woman.”

  Taurian nodded.

  “Stop right there,” one of the officers yelled as Taurian jogged away.

  “No, it's okay, Carl. He saved my life,” Johnson said. “Let him go.”

  “What the hell happened to your squad car?” the woman asked. “Was that the druggy you called in?”

  Their voices carried on the wind as Taurian raced through the city streets.

  “You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

  Taurian smiled to himself briefly. Later he'd check on Officer Johnson and make sure the man recovered.

  A buzzing noise vibrated behind him. Taurian dashed ahead to a side street, but the small two-wheel vehicle followed him. He clenched his fists and faced the driver. If it was one of the shooting goons from earlier, he'd send the guy back to Johnson and the other officers.

  The driver revved the engine, then sideswiped him, nearly missing him as he leaped backward. With the engine idling and both stopped, she flipped up her helmet. She had taupe skin with bright eyes and glowered at him. “
You the one who gave my Grams such a hard time?”

  Her yellow helmet had the same black painted skull on it as had the old woman's door.

  “Listen, I have to reach—”

  “You don't look like a dragon to me.” The woman cocked her head, examining him up and down.

  “That's because somehow I became human when I landed here,” He growled. “I have to reach my friend...she's in trouble.”

  “Right, that's why Grams called me. Before you took off, she was going to ask me to give you a ride, but after your actions, I'm not sure I want to help you no matter what she says.”

  “Don't believe me or your Grams just take me to Dena's and I will return the favor somehow.”

  “Hmm,” she tapped her finger to her lips, “having a dragon, even a delusional human, might come in handy sometime.” She snapped her fingers. “Give my Grams some of that famous dragon treasure and a future favor for me and I'll take you wherever my bike can go.”

  “I vow I will make it so.” He clapped his hand to his throat.

  “Whoa, dude, no need to be so formal. So where to?” She patted the seat behind her.

  “Dena's.”

  “Ah ha, address?”

  When he frowned, she shook her head.

  “Street name or subdivision?”

  “It is northeast of here by twenty degrees from here.”

  She crossed her arms. “Yeah, that's not helping. Got a last name for this Dena of yours?”

  “No.” He didn't know that much even yet he felt closer to Dena than he had any other female.

  “Right. Okay, then.” She pulled out her phone. “Anything you can tell me about her? Where she works maybe?”

  “She's a doctor...for animals.”

  After tapping on her phone, she smiled. “Got her. Let's go.”

  Taurian climbed behind the woman, then stopped her before she lowered the screen on her helmet. “Thank you...I don't know your name.”

  “Ash, short for Ashley.” She lifted her chin to him. “And you are?”

  “D'Kohralx Vorian Myrx Taurian.”

  “Wow, that's a mouthful. And I thought my last name Thibodeaux was bad.”

  “Call me Taurian then.” He paused for a moment. “How did you track me down so easily?”

  “Grams said she linked your aura to mine or some mumbo-jumbo.” Ash shrugged. “Me, I followed the loudest commotion in the city. Figured a dragon prancing around town would make some noise.”

  She lowered her shield and motioned for him to hold onto her sides. The bike lurched beneath them and zoomed down the road. Their speed surprised Taurian and he almost felt like they skimmed above the ground…nearly flying. If he remained in human form, he was going to procure one of these bikes.

  The sun darkened behind clouds, and Taurian prayed he wasn’t too late. Dena had been with the Tryn for hours. He swallowed back the burning bile that shot into his throat. Somehow she had to be okay. His heart clenched at what he’d find. He couldn’t lose her, not after he’d just found her. A weight pressed down on his chest and he couldn’t take a deep enough breath. The wind whipped at his clothes and hair.

  Outside Dena’s house, the metallic scent of blood coated his tongue. The house was dark and quiet. His heart refusing to beat until he saw her. He had to know if she was okay and held her in his arms. Then he’d never let the crazy woman go again.

  “Want me to wait for you?” Ash asked.

  He climbed off the bike and shook his head. His voice refusing to work. Please let her be okay. He dashed to her door and stopped. The coyote they had rescued earlier lay in a pool of blood on the porch, having to hang off the side. Its injury reopened and it wasn’t breathing.

  “Dena!” He pounded on the door, splintering the wood as it caved open.

  Darkness and silence greeted him. The heavy stench of burning sulfur choked the air. The Tryn was here! With Taurian’s chest heaving from fear and sorrow, he strode forward with hope a small thread that pulsed inside his heart.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Taurian crept through Dena's house using his Renjerian night vision. He didn't want to alert the Tryn to his presence. Though the sulfur stench wasn't as concentrated which meant it might already be gone. And that meant either it had taken Dena or worse. He shook from the image of her lying dead with blood pooled around her.

  He inhaled, trying to distinguish where Dena might be located, but with the lingering Tryn, coyote blood outside, and the spilled chemicals across the wooden floor, it was impossible to make out anything else.

  After he checked the kitchen and examination room, he passed the living room. A hitch of breath sounded from Dena's bedroom. Taurian bolted down the hallway and kicked open her door.

  Dena kicked him in the gut, then brought down a knife into his shoulder. He bellowed and grabbed her wrist, squeezing it until she released the blade.

  “What in blazing turn are you doing?” He grunted from the pain and jerked the weapon out, hissing through his teeth. Blood seeped down his arm.

  She threw a small silver weapon at him, but he dashed to the side. “Exactly what it looks like, filthy Renjerian.”

  The truth hit him in the sternum. It happened to Earthlings often when the Tryn ran rampant. Their infection didn't affect Renjerians the same way. Their poison, if left too long, would kill his kind. But humans, it could take over and control them. They even invented a word for it. “Dena, you're possessed.”

  She darted toward him, slashing another blade across his thigh. How many of the damned things did she have insider her?

  When she came at him again, he grabbed her arms and pinned them to her sides. The knife clattered to the floor. She kneed him in the groin. Pain radiated through him and he doubled over. She slipped from his grip and backed away.

  “Bastard!” she screamed. No telling what she would do if he did.

  He panted through the aching pain.

  “Such a big, bad dragon.” She laughed. “Stuck here with us humans until you die.”

  Pushing through the pain, he blocked her fist with his forearm, then scooped her into his arms. “Which won't be tonight.” He lifted her up when she kicked at his shins.

  “Put me down!” she squealed.

  “Be still.”

  She thrashed in his arms gnashing her teeth near his neck, but he held her upper body slightly away from him.

  Somehow, he had to get her unmoving so he could figure out how far gone she was. Soul cleansings only worked if newly affected. He carried her to her bed and laid her down. Over her bed was a window with long thick curtains. With his knees locking her arms in place, he yanked on the curtain’s cord, breaking it off. Then twisted the cord around both her wrists as she kicked and fought him. His heart hurting as he wrenched her arms over her head and tied them to the bedpost. Then he looped the bed sheet to her feet and fastened the end to the footboard.

  Even tied down, her body bucked, and she spat at him.

  “Dena,” he wiped his face, “the Tryn’s parasites are controlling you.”

  She laughed deeply, hoarsely. “Is that what you think? I think maybe you’re not man enough for me, dragon.”

  “We’ll see about that once you’re cured.” He strode from her bedroom and filled a glass with water. He had no dragon fire breath to purify it with. Steadily, he carried it to her window and opened the blinds, letting the water reflect the moonlight. “Yzrik Ome Matroviuth Domea,” he chanted the ancient Renjerian prayer words. When the water shimmered in the cup a moment later, he returned to her.

  “Drink.”

  “I’m not thirsty.” She turned her head away.

  Fine. They were going to do this the hard way then. He placed the water on the table beside the bed then climbed on top of her. With the weight of his body pinning her across the waist, he held her chin with one hand then poured a bit of the water into her mouth. She spat it out, soaking his shirt. Three more times he tried to get her to drink before she choked down a mouthful. Then he d
ipped his fingers in the water and traced the triple-star symbol of the physicians from his planet from her forehead to her cheeks and down her chin, avoiding her teeth.

  A seizure gripped her, and she foamed at the mouth, convulsing. He held her down without being too forceful and holding out hope that he wasn’t too late and the parasites would dissolve.

  Except, she wasn’t calming. Her body rocked side to side and her eyes rolled up in the back of her head. Something was wrong. His gut tightened as he watched her spirit in her gaze fade further away from him. If he didn’t do something soon, the parasites would kill her.

  “Dena, fight.” He bent forward and kissed her forehead. “Fight for me, for us. Don’t let the bastard win.”

  Forever it seemed, he went back and forth between the prayers of his people and hers and telling her to battle this enemy inside her. Nothing worked.

  Sweat beaded his brow as her body abruptly stopped moving.

  Had she done it? Hope blossomed in his chest and he slid his hands off her arms. But she wasn’t moving. Wasn’t even breathing. Her lips were turning a blue-cast color and her skin was so pale. His heart ripped in his chest and he let out a roar that spun from sorrow and grief. It morphed into a dragon’s cry and scales erupted across his skin. Wings sprang out across his back.

  No! If he returned to his Renjerian form now, he’d crush her under his weight. His height would bring down her roof on top of her. He couldn’t harm her even if she was dead. He gritted his teeth to stop the change. If he went outside, he could change, but doubtful her neighbors would be okay with a dragon.

  Lightning boomed in the distance, calling him home. But he couldn’t leave. Not like this. Not with her dead and he couldn’t save her. He’d wanted to show her his world and she’d said she’d love that. Now she never would.

  He choked back fire and let his burning tears fall on her face. Dragon tears could heal a human, but Dena didn’t move. The parasites should be gone with the holy water and if she were still alive, his dragon tears would restore her health. Yet, she still thrashed, her hair damp from sweat.