by Meg Ripley
There was also a chance it was Sabrina, coming to talk to him face-to-face since he wouldn’t answer his phone.
He opened the door to find a small, old man standing there. He had a large bag over his shoulder, and he held a few sheets of paper in his hand. “Hello, I’m selling magazine subscriptions to raise money for our ministry. Could you spare a few moments to look over the selections?” He shouldered past Lance and into the apartment.
“I really don’t have time.” Lance was aggravated, but it was clear that the old man was a little confused. He wandered through the living room, studying the place like he’d never seen a decent apartment before. “Maybe some other day.”
“No, no. I won’t be back another day,” the old man explained. “I only have so much time in each neighborhood, you know. Here, just take a look.”
“Listen, I said I’m not interested.” Of all the times for something like this to happen, it had to be now. “Please, just go.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” The old man whipped his bag off his back and wrenched a massive dagger from the confines of it. His thin arms quivered underneath its weight, but the determined look in his pale eyes showed that he meant business. There was something about the blade that sent a stab of fear through Lance’s system.
Still, Lance knew this man was no match for him, even if he stayed in his human form. “Set the knife down, buddy. We don’t want this to turn into a big ordeal.”
“It’s already a big ordeal, dragon. Surrender now, and meet your death with dignity.”
Lance let out a snort of laughter. “You’re kidding me, right?”
But the front door opened behind him, admitting three more men. Another one came in through the sliding glass doors, and yet another charged down the hallway. They had been planning this, waiting in the wings for the right moment. Unlike the innocent-looking man who had claimed to be selling magazines, these men looked like real hunters. They wore dark clothing enhanced with homemade armor, and each of them had a weapon of some sort. They were burly men, and they were serious about their task there.
As Lance sized up the situation, he cursed himself. He had been so preoccupied with the business over Sabrina and Max that he had let his guard down. These people never should have been able to come anywhere near his apartment without him knowing about it, but here they were. He was outnumbered, but at least he knew he was fighting humans. “I don’t know what this is all about, but you’re all making a huge mistake.”
Another man came through the doorway, closing the door behind him. Lance immediately recognized the dark eyes, his slicked back hair, and the set of his shoulders. It was Max, but back in human form. “Oh, it’s not a mistake at all, dragon. We know what you really are, and we’re here to wipe your kind from the face of the planet.”
“Max,” Lance growled. Of course, it was him. He knew Lance’s secret, and what better way to get rid of a dragon then to call in the hunters.
“Let’s get him, boys!” the old man crowed.
Lance didn’t see the man who whacked him from behind with a makeshift battle axe. He fell to the floor, dizzy and confused, but his body knew what to do. He changed quickly, his lean human muscles swiftly thickening and strengthening into those of a dragon. He felt the fire in his chest and the anger in his heart, and he pushed himself back to his feet before he had fully shifted. Spinning and flinging out his tail, he knocked his assailant to the ground.
The man’s head smacked audibly against the coffee table, and he fell to the floor unconscious.
The spikes on the back of Lance’s head brushed the ceiling. “Stop this now, Max,” he demanded. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“It does,” Max assured him. But he stood behind the other men with his arms crossed.
“Are you going to let them all fight your battle for you?” Lance demanded. His teeth were sharp against his tongue, and he longed to dig them into someone’s flesh.
“It was my battle first,” the old man corrected him. “I’m Wade Emerson Holland, and I’ve been hunting your kind since I could walk. I’ve found you now, and we’re taking you down!” He charged at Lance with his dagger in the air.
He had it aimed correctly, but he couldn’t get close enough before Lance’s strong forearm knocked him aside. Fortunately, he landed on the couch. Lance couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry for the old man, since he was most definitely human.
Another of the hunters thrust forward with a thin sword, but the metal bounced right off Lance’s scales. A spear thrown from the man who had come up the hallway skidded off the dragon’s nose, narrowly missing his eyes by only a few inches.
“Why did you bring such medieval weapons to fight with?” Max demanded. “This isn’t some gothic play, you know.”
“We’ve only had our research up until now,” Mr. Holland countered. “What more do you want from us?” He scrambled to his feet and poked the dagger at Lance once again.
The dragon smacked at the hilt with the back of his hand, sending the knife clattering across the floor. He turned back to Max, “Call this off. You know it can’t end well.” The men were still coming after him, and it was only a matter of time before these meager efforts weren’t enough. The hunters would become more voracious, and he would have to do something serious to stop them.
“Not on your life.” Max stayed by the door while the hunters gathered themselves and attacked at once.
Lance deflected knives and spears. He shoved men into walls and watched as drywall dust rained down on their dark clothes. He threw them across the floor and bowled them into furniture. Lance instantly dashed their dreams of being badass fantasy warriors, and he secretly relished it. The hunters who had killed his parents were probably long dead or at least retired, but he felt a power surging through his blood at the idea of taking these men down. Above the din, he heard a noise that he never would have picked up with his human ears.
It was Sabrina.
In the corner of his eye, he saw Max fling the door open. Sabrina was there, tears streaking her face and her eyes bright with fear. “What’s happening?” she demanded. “Uncle Wade, what are you doing here?”
Somehow, Lance hadn’t put together their last names amidst the fight. These weren’t just any dragon hunters that Max had found on the internet: it was Sabrina’s uncle who had come to do him in. Had she given him away? Had she finally decided that her uncle deserved to have a dragon’s skull hanging like a trophy above his mantle? His mind churned as his body fought instinctively, using claws, teeth, and tail to fight off the assailants.
Uncle Bill, in human form, sat at the worn kitchen table and shook his head. “There’s no point in trusting any humans, son. No matter how nice they may seem.”
“But some of them are really into dragons,” Lance countered. He was seventeen, and he had read some of the fantasy books in the library. There were some that treated dragons as enemies, as humans had done for centuries, but there were others that treated them as heroes or creatures to be revered. “I think there must be some good ones out there.”
“They like the idea of dragons,” Bill corrected. “Facing a live one would make them shit their pants right before they called the police. That’s why you and I have to stick together. We’re all we’ve got.” A cough racked his ribcage. He spat something into a tissue and tucked it away in his pocket.
Lance knew the truth. Bill had been coughing up blood for weeks. “All the more reason you should go to the hospital and get checked out.”
“Ha!” The exclamation caused another violent cough. “And what do you think will happen to me when they start poking and prodding and injecting me with medication? I’ll shift, at least partly, and the next thing you know you’ll have to visit your old Uncle Bill in the science museum. No, Lance. Don’t trust a single one of them. They’re all scared, and they’ll do anything to keep their own hides.
“Give in, dragon!” The other hunters, as tough as they looked, had been dispatc
hed, lying in various awkward positions in the apartment, their faces bleeding and their broken limbs twisted. But Wade had not yet given up. Despite the cut on the side of his head that shed blood like a waterfall over his ear, he had taken advantage of Lance’s distraction. He stood immediately before the dragon, the tip of his blade slipping between Lance’s scales. “Tell me now where the rest of your kind are, and I’ll let you live.”
“A man like you would never set me free.” Lance knew that he wouldn’t be free no matter what he did; he never had been. The idea of the hunters had been haunting him his entire life. Leaving Illinois and his past behind had not changed a thing. He would always be hunted, always be different, always be an outsider.
“I might.” Wade’s hand shook slightly, but he kept the point of the blade on its target. “If I have a good reason.”
“There’s no reason to keep a creature like him alive!” Max roared. “Just do him in now, before he does the same to you!”
But Lance knew that would never happen. He flicked his clawed fingers, which would slice the thin skin of the old man’s throat in an instant. But this man was Sabrina’s uncle, a relative and someone she loved, just as he had loved his Uncle Bill. He couldn’t kill the old man, no matter what happened.
“Just tell me how to defeat the other dragons,” Wade said quietly. “I know there are more.”
Lance shook his scaly head. “There are no other dragons.”
“Of course, there are! I haven’t spent my entire life chasing down just one dragon. There are plenty of you, and you’re all over the world!” Wade’s jaw was set firmly, though the skin over it was loose. He pushed the point of the dagger upwards a little.
As a dragon, it would take a lot more than that to hurt Lance. But if he made it out of this alive, he would have some interesting scars. It was just as well that he didn’t think he would ever get a chance to take human form again. “Plenty? There might have been plenty of us at one time. But it was people like you who have hunted us nearly to extinction. You think you’re doing the world a favor by ridding it of monsters, but you’ll see the real monster when you look in the mirror. Humans are the blight of the world, Mr. Holland, not dragons.”
“Stop this, please!” Sabrina stepped forward, her hand out, but Max grabbed her by the waist and pulled her backwards. His arms covered hers, keeping her pinned.
“Stay out of it, sweetheart. You’re only going to get hurt, and this is something your uncle has to do.”
“You should listen to him, Sabrina.” Wade kept his eyes on Lance as he spoke to his niece. “He’s a good man, and he wants what’s best for the world, just like I do. Killing this dragon might seem cruel to you right now, but I promise it’s the right thing to do.”
“Go on, then. Kill me.” Lance spread his forearms wide and tipped his chin back, giving the hunter clear access to his chest scales.
“I would much rather know your secrets,” Wade whispered. His seafoam eyes lifted to Lance’s, begging.
“There are no secrets to tell.” The Club, the Darkblood Society, the memories of his uncle and parents, even Max’s true identity, would all die with Lance. It was the fate he had always hoped he would avoid, but there was no denying it now.
“Stop! There’s no need for this! He’s not going to hurt anyone, Uncle Wade. Just let him go!” Sabrina broke free of Max’s grasp and charged forward.
“If you keep interfering, you’re just going get hurt,” Max said through clenched teeth as he hurried after her and tackled Sabrina to the ground. He grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her back, making her cry out in pain.
Lance roared, a violent noise that shook the walls, as he stormed forward. Max was on his feet quickly, leaving Sabrina on the ground, and where one moment there had been an angry man, there was a coal-black dragon.
Wade shot forward to lift Sabrina from the floor and then staggered backwards with her, the sword hanging limply from his free hand.
“You’ve hurt her for the last time,” Lance promised as he sized up his enemy, deciding where his weakest point was. “I won’t let you do it again.”
“Doesn’t seem like you’re the person to stop me,” Max teased. He stood calmly waiting for the attack, refusing to be on the offense first. “You couldn’t do it last time.”
“I didn’t want to.” There was a difference. Until recently, Lance had spent his entire life wondering if there were truly any other beings like him on Earth. He knew then, but it didn’t make them any less special. He didn’t want to be the dragon who killed a fellow shifter, not if he didn’t have to. But it was clear that Max wasn’t the kind to give up a fight.
“Tell yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night.” Max laughed and flicked his yellow eyes at Sabrina and her uncle. “I promise I won’t have any qualms killing you, and then I can do whatever I want with them. There won’t be anyone else to stop me.”
Lance opened his mouth to ask about the rest of the Darkblood Society and what they would think of this, but he snapped his jaws shut again. If there was any way the two humans survived this, Lance couldn’t risk them going after The Club. With no further words, he barreled across the room and into Max’s chest, sending him sprawling backwards into the living room wall.
The drywall crumbled under the impact, and several pieces of wooden framework fell as Max leapt to his feet and dusted himself off. “You’re going to lose your deposit if you keep this up.” It was his turn to attack, and he came forth with his claws swiping the air.
Several of his dagger-like nails slashed Lance’s shoulder and one sliced through the thin skin of his wing. Lance howled in anger and sank his teeth into Max’s neck, but he didn’t have the right angle; his teeth slid down the scales uselessly.
Like two armored tanks, the dragons clawed and thrashed and bit to little avail. Lance’s body was beginning to grow tired—after all, he had already battled several other hunters and was running on very little sleep. His muscles grew heavy and sluggish, and he knew the end was near. At least he would die in battle, a more honorable death than slowly slipping away in a hospital bed while the nurses wondered why his skin was so dry.
Max had him by the shoulders, and a swift swipe of his tail sent Lance to the ground. The air shot out of his lungs in a rush, and his spines crunched against the hard floor. Max was much larger, and he had him pinned down. “Are there any last words you’d like to say before I finish you once and for all?”
But Lance couldn’t speak, both because his body wouldn’t let him and there were no words that could truly capture it all. He had let his uncle down; he had let himself down. The Darkblood Society had turned out to not be the amazing life-changer he had hoped for. He had learned his lesson about humans, even though it was too late now.
Most of all, he had let Sabrina down. Human though she was, his heart sang out for her in his last moment. She had shown him that there was more to life than just existing, even without his family to share it with. Sabrina knew his secret, but she was the type of person that was worth sharing it with.
“I have something to say!”
Max pushed himself up on his forearms to look at the old man, who had come forward as their private battle ensued. The blade was still in his hands, and he shoved it directly into Max’s chest. The metal screeched against his scales, and Max let out a mournful wail.
Hot blood washed down over Lance, a red so dark, it was nearly black. It steamed as it gushed down onto the floor and drained Max’s body. The black dragon stiffened for a moment in shock before clutching uselessly at the hilt of the dagger. He keeled over backwards, thrashing, with the knife sticking straight up out of his chest.
Lance sprang to his feet, his energy renewed. There was still an enemy to fight, but Wade was far less of a challenge than Max had been. Fighting humans instead of other dragons almost seemed unfair, but the circumstances certainly warranted it. He readied himself, his tail thrashing against several pieces of pottery on the side table and sendi
ng them crashing to the floor as he advanced on Wade. He hadn’t wanted to kill him, but believing he was about to die himself was changing his mind.
The old man held up his hands. “I surrender! I give up! I don’t wish to harm you!” His voice quivered.
“That’s not the message that knife has been delivering,” Lance countered with a slight bob of his head toward Max. “I can thank you all day for killing that bastard, but it won’t stop you from killing me.”
“Actually, you already did. Stopped me from killing you, that is.” He continued to shuffle backwards until he was next to Sabrina.
Lance narrowed his eyes. “How’s that?”
Wade put his arm around his niece’s shoulders. “I know you were trying to protect her. I saw what he was doing and how you reacted. Dragon or not, I can see that I made a mistake about you.” He glanced at the large, dark form that took up most of the living room floor. “And about Max.”
Looking from Sabrina to her uncle and back again, Lance melted back into human form. He had worn himself out in his dragon body, too tired to feel threatened any longer. Sabrina ran to him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his face repeatedly. Lance held her, but he watched Wade carefully. “What happens now?”
The dragon hunter slowly sank into the leather recliner behind him. He had never looked particularly young or vibrant, but he suddenly seemed far older as he ran a bloody hand through his gray curls. His skin had paled so that he looked like a sheet of vellum. “I don’t know.” He put his head in his hands. “I truly don’t know. I’ve done so much work. I’ve dedicated my entire life to a single purpose, and now I discover that I was wrong about everything.”
Lance guided Sabrina to the couch, where he gently pushed her down onto the cushions and allowed himself to sit down next to her. She kept her hands on him, unwilling to let him go, and he didn’t mind. “You weren’t wrong about everything. You did find a dragon, after all. Two, actually.” He smiled a little.