Hunting Down Dragons (Moonlight Dragon #2)

by Tricia Owens

  The curtains swirled. Something within it punched out at me, connecting with my shoulder. I punched back and hit only soft cloth. I tried to scramble backward and felt my hair seized and yanked, pulling me toward the black shrouds. I kicked out and hit nothing.

  I couldn’t fight what I didn't understand. Without an identifiable target I was flailing against ghosts. Fear begged me to dump all of my energy into Lucky and blast my way out of there. But something, a niggling voice in the back of my head that sounded like Uncle James', warned me that I couldn't do that. For all the power the Oddsmakers possessed, and I had no doubt that they could literally cause anything to happen, I wasn't seriously hurt. They weren't out to kill me. This was a lesson.

  As soon as I came to that conclusion, something that felt like a brick slammed against my head. Though I fought it, terrified of being unconscious in this hideous place, I didn't stand a chance.

  Lights out.

  Chapter 3

  Fingers touched my face before they drifted down to my jaw, to my neck.

  "Ow," I said, and batted the hand away.

  When I opened my eyes I thought I was still wrapped up in the Black Drapes from Hell. I was surrounded by inky darkness. But when I tipped my head back, instead of looking up at the demented Sistine Chapel, my gaze was filled with stars.

  "I've never known anyone who was bitten by a vampire," Vale said from where he squatted beside me. He was careful how he squatted because he was still naked. Bruises were already beginning to darken the skin of his upper arms and I bet there were matching ones forming around his ankles.

  "I've never been someone who was bitten by a vampire," I retorted. "And by the way, I was lied to. That thing wasn't sexy and it damn well didn't sparkle."

  "Just be glad vampirism isn't an infectious disease, Moody."

  When I reached for my neck to feel the wound, he caught my hand and steered it away.

  "It won't scar. They can't afford to leave behind proof of their existence. I can already see that the holes have closed up."

  Good, because I sure as hell didn't want a creepy vampire's love bite as my souvenir from visiting the Oddsmakers.

  The Oddsmakers. I sucked in my breath and sat up to look around us. We were surrounded by miles of scrub and little else. The fact I could actually see stars gave me an idea of where we weren't.

  "How far are we from the city?" I asked, fearing the answer.

  Vale sighed and turned his head to gaze to the distance, to my right. "Far. We're near State Route 357." When I gave him a blank look, he smiled humorlessly. "The Extraterrestrial Highway." He thumbed behind him. "Area 51 is that way."

  I stared at him. "Are you pulling my leg? What are we doing out here? Where are the Oddsmakers? Those were the Oddsmakers, right? Not random, sadistic monsters?"

  "Those were the Oddsmakers, as much as I could tell. They never fully show themselves, so identification is all but impossible. As to what we're doing out here…" He shrugged. "This is where they conduct business. Beneath the Air Force Base. About eight miles down, or so the rumor says."

  "All of that just happened beneath Area 51?"

  He nodded.

  I had to laugh, I mean really laugh. It made total sense, actually. You could perform all the magick you wanted beneath the country's most infamous secret military base and if anything ever leaked out you could just blame it on aliens or government cover-ups. It was ingenious

  "If I weren't so scared of them I'd admire them," I said after I'd calmed down.

  Vale, though, scowled at me. "What the hell were you thinking back there, taking them on with your sorcery like that? Do you realize what they could have done to you?"

  "But the important thing is that they didn't. I think it was a test to see if I'd give in and turn dragon and attack them. Since I didn't, I proved I'm not a so-called traitor, and you and I are here, in the boonies. Wow, those guys are assholes, come to think of it. They didn't even leave us a moped or skateboards…how the hell are we supposed to return to Vegas?"

  "We'll manage," Vale bit out.

  Boy, he really was pissed, and from his point of view I could understand why.

  I sobered. "I'm sorry for getting you into this."

  His lips twisted bitterly. "This wasn't all about you, Moody."

  "What are you talking about? They told me they want me to do some sort of mission for them. You were kidnapped to put pressure on me."

  Vale studied me for a few seconds, then abruptly stood up and strode away. "You're right."

  Of course that only convinced me that I must be wrong. I climbed to my feet with a groan, a myriad of tiny aches making themselves known throughout by my body.

  "Wait. Vale, why did you say this wasn't all about me?" I tried my hardest not to stare at his bare backside. "Is it because you're the heir to the Gargoyle Throne? And thanks for telling me that, by the way. I appreciated learning it from a disembodied voice."

  "I'm not the heir," he said with an impatient wave of the arm. "My brother will inherit."

  "Fine, you're the dashing, wastrel younger brother. Why didn't you tell me who you are?"

  He turned and glared at me. "Does it matter? I have nothing to do with politics. I'm on my own; otherwise I'd be back in Europe."

  "But that's why the Oddsmakers grabbed you, isn't it? Because of your position?"

  He turned around again, putting his back to me and hiding his expression. But I wasn't about to let him get away with it. I grabbed his arm and tried to spin him. I'd forgotten how strong he was. He didn't budge an inch. He turned on his own to study me with annoyance.

  "It's my business, Moody."

  "Apparently it's mine, too, since we were both snatched by them." I hesitated, and then laid my hand on his bare shoulder, just above the giant, finger-shaped bruises on his arm. "I'm not your enemy here. I think I've proved that a couple of times now. I want to know who you are. Not just to protect my own butt but because…well, I just do. You're interesting."

  His dark gaze held mine. "Interesting. That's like telling a guy he's swell."

  "Hey, I've gotta play coy. That's what Cosmo tells me."

  "I think we're beyond coy. I'm naked."

  "And I haven't looked lower than your chin for at least ninety seconds."

  His lips twitched. He ran a hand over his face. "Remember when your friend Orlaton told you that gargoyles traditionally possess the souls of demons?"

  "Sure. I thought he was being paranoid."

  "He was right, Moody. The gargoyle that sits atop our throne isn't my father. It's a demon that overthrew my father—killed him—and replaced him. No one's supposed to know that because it would put me and my brother and other gargoyles in danger."

  As I gaped at him, he continued.

  "The original gargoyle curse, cast nearly a thousand years ago, turned a stone statue into a flesh and blood man but kept him trapped in a cycle of transformation. That's why I have three forms: gargoyle, statue, and man. But somewhere along the line a sorcerer decided gargoyle forms would provide a great place to hide a small demon army. He bound a handful of lower tier demons into the form of gargoyles. They can't shift into human forms, however they look like gargoyles and they turn to stone like gargoyles. They did a lot of damage to the gargoyle reputation, which Orlaton and others are aware of. Trust me when I say I didn't appreciate it when I was possessed by Vagasso's demon. It struck too close to home."

  I nodded. "You and I are two peas in a pod, tainted by the actions of some bad apples."

  "The Oddsmakers know I'm not a demon, but they're aware that the current king is. They have me under constant surveillance because they think I might start a war against demons."

  "Wouldn't that be more your brother's goal, since he's the one who's next in line to inherit?" A thought occurred to me. "Can he inherit? Demons don't die."

  "Exactly. The current Gargoyle King is under the thumb of its human handler, and the Oddsmakers believe that either my brother or I will eventually go
after him to regain control of the throne. My brother probably will, but that will be his battle to wage, not mine. Too bad the Oddsmakers don't want to believe me about that."

  "Why were they torturing you?"

  Vale looked away and muttered something.

  "What was that?" I prodded.

  His brows drew down fiercely. "I said they wanted me to look pathetic so you'd do what they said."

  His humiliation burned off him in waves. He'd hated being used as leverage against me, and I sympathized. I would have felt exactly the same way had I been the one up on that wall.

  "Well, they pretty much failed," I told him, which brought his head up, surprise on his face. "When I saw that they'd been torturing you and yet you still looked ready to punch someone in the face that just inspired me to fight them, too."

  He shook his head slowly. "Moody, I didn't want you to fight them."

  "See? Your reverse psychology worked. You were brilliant."

  He opened his mouth, then shut it. "Moody, you're something else." He briefly touched my hip. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was. To me, my family status doesn't matter. Here in Vegas I'm no one special. I'm just Vale."

  "Okay, Just Vale."

  I smiled and he smiled back, looking relieved. But there was no way I was going to forget his status. As an heir to a throne he might have enemies, known or unknown. In fact, I recalled Melanie asking him if he had any, back when we were trying to figure out why he'd become possessed by a demon. He'd given us a guarded denial then, which I'd found suspicious but had consequently forgotten in the stress that followed. Vale wasn't 'just' anything, and I'd do well to keep that in mind.

  For the time being, though, him being a gargoyle prince wasn't something I could bring myself to actively worry about. I had enough on my plate as it was.

  Vale swung his arms gingerly, loosening muscles that still occasionally trembled as if from exhaustion. "The Oddsmakers told me at the end, before they kidnapped you, that I could earn my freedom by convincing you to accept their mission. Though they never told me what it is."

  "They were cagey with me, too," I said sourly. "It makes me want to flip them the bird."

  But Vale grew irritated again. "You can't act out against them, Moody. They let us go tonight because they need us to do something for them. But remember how easily they brought you here. They can do that at any time, no matter where you are. And they don't need to release you. We're among the rare few who have left that place alive."

  I hated that he was probably right. It left me feeling helpless and like a pawn in a game with anonymous online players. Any last hope that the Oddsmakers might be a benevolent council of wise, old magick users who had only the best interests of my kind at heart had been thoroughly incinerated. Those guys were a menace, and unfortunately they were a powerful one and I was caught up in their machinations.

  "I won't do anything too rash," I said, which was the best I could give him, "but I have to tell you: I don't trust them. They told me Vagasso isn't a problem and to go on like he doesn't exist." I gave Vale a skeptical look. "I'm not delusional, am I? Vagasso did summon a dangerous demon in his quest to take over the world, right? I didn't dream that?"

  Vale's mouth thinned. "You didn't dream it."

  "It sounds fishy to me that they want us to lay off him. Do you think they're protecting him for some reason?"

  "I wish I had more answers for you, Moody, but I don't. Trust me when I say it pisses me off." He raked a hand through his seemingly always tousled brown hair. "We need to get out of here."

  I sighed. "If only I could have Lucky fly us back."

  He cocked his head. "But…your familiar is a Chinese dragon. Its form is serpentine."

  "Right. Wings aren't traditional Chinese, but I'm a half-breed." I shrugged. "I guess having my dad's blood has made me and my dragon mutts. Fat good it does us now, though." I squinted across the desert. I couldn't make out a single light that signaled civilization. "You plan to walk all the way back? I know you don't have a phone on you. At least, I really hope you don't since the only place you could be carrying one is..."

  He gave me a dirty look. "You're not the only one with wings."

  "Ah." What he intended sounded nerve-wracking but I couldn’t deny that I was curious to see what it would feel like. "Alright. I’m game."

  He smirked. "I thought you'd be." His smile faded and I braced myself for more bad news. His gaze turned intent. "It's good to see you again, Moody."

  I managed to hide my surprise. "I think I would have preferred a Starbucks, but this'll do for a second date."

  "I can do better than this or a Starbucks for a second date," he scoffed.

  I hid my smile. "That remains to be seen. In the meantime, I'm glad you're here, Vale, and that you're helping me."

  "Don't thank me yet. We don't know what we're going to be doing."

  "Whatever it is, I'm glad to be doing it with a friend."

  He touched my hip again, a skim of his knuckles over the fabric of my shorts. "Let's get out of here."

  He crouched on the dirt and in the next breath he had transformed into what at first glance could have been mistaken for a hairless, adolescent gorilla. With wings. And a nasty snarl. Size-wise he wasn’t impressive, but beneath his mottled gray-green skin rippled some serious muscle. Vale in his gargoyle form could probably lift a car. I only needed him to lift me.

  I held my arms out, hands dangling, feeling like an awkward scarecrow. "How should I—"

  He launched himself into the air and flew behind me. I flinched as his claws curled around my arms, but their hold was surprisingly gently. I let out a whoop as my feet left the ground and Vale flew us over the desert. I couldn't help wondering what the security guards at Area 51 thought of us.

  Actually, they'd probably seen more interesting things.

  Chapter 4

  While we might have been able to fly all the way back to Vegas that way, it wasn't practical. Vale, after all, was naked. Vegas was pretty progressive, but they had a thing about full frontal nudity when it was out in the open and no one was making money off of it. Not to mention by the time he released me my arms would have been permanently stuck in their upright position, making me look like a cast member of The Walking Dead.

  "You have a plan?" I asked the gargoyle.

  As a matter of fact I do, Moody. Relax.

  Relax. I was flying through the air, carried by a gargoyle, after having been slapped around by an albino vampire and other creepy crawlies. Sure, I'd relax. As soon as I woke up from this crazy nightmare.

  Though we were following the Extraterrestrial Highway, making occasional swoops out into the desert to avoid being seen by the few cars that passed us, I could sense that the gargoyle was taking us somewhere specific, not simply following dirt roads.

  Sure enough, around 30 miles later, we came upon a handful of trailers and a white building with bold blue trim and the words Little A'Le'Inn painted on the side. The parking lot held half a dozen cars with Nevada plates. A heavy duty truck supported a small crane from which hung a UFO the size of a kiddie pool. Both truck and UFO looked like they hadn't been moved since the Roswell crash.

  "Hey, I've always wanted to visit this place," I whispered excitedly as the gargoyle carefully set me down at the edge of the parking lot.

  The Little A'Le'Inn was something of a mecca for UFO hunters who were curious about Area 51. Not too far from the café was the location of the infamous black box. The mailbox was gone after being subjected to too much vandalism, but its history as being a meeting place for UFO hunters and for delivering mail to aliens lived on. I wished Melanie were here. She would have loved this.

  I worked out the cramps in my shoulders while Vale transformed back to his human form. Seeing him tall and naked again took a moment to get used to and I shamelessly looked my fill.

  "Think you can get me some clothes from in there?" he asked, oblivious to my staring as he studied the darkened trailers. "Those are guest a
ccommodations."

  I hastily lifted my gaze. "Guests stay in the trailers? Weird. Let's see."

  We crept around the property until we found a trailer with an open window and a screen slid partly aside. Yay for pleasant desert nights. I called up Lucky, giving him enough energy so he was a light gold, skinny dragon that fit easily through the open window.

  "You'd better hope there aren't women staying in here," I whispered to Vale and grinned as I imagined him trying to fit into some girl's hot pants and tank top.

  Fortunately for him, Lucky found a pair of black board shorts and a man's Miami Dolphins T-shirt, along with a pair of tennis shoes. My dragon dumped them at Vale's feet with what I thought was a touch of attitude. Was Lucky jealous?

  My dragon familiar wasn't an autonomous being. He lived only when I gave him life, that is, when I fed him my life energy. The intelligence he possessed was my intelligence.

  Or so I'd always assumed. But thinking back, there were times when Lucky had acted while I was distracted with other things. He'd made decisions that I don't recall having consciously made. Did that mean he could read my mind? Or did it mean he thought for himself?

  I eyed the wisp of my dragon as he hovered in the air beside me. While I was far from afraid of him, I felt a touch of unease about the situation, like I'd just watched a monkey learn how to fire a gun.

  Vale finished dragging on the clothes and shoes. It all fit him well enough, though I mentally complained that the shorts were too baggy in the seat. Vale had a great ass. It needed to be seen.

  "Much better," he said.

  I shrugged without much enthusiasm.

  He smirked at me and led the way as we crept back to the parking lot.

  "Now, how about a ride?" he asked.

  "You're so lazy," I chided, but I obligingly found a newer Toyota Camry that probably had good insurance which would cover the tow back to its owner.