by Amelia Jade
The car turned a corner, the driver accelerating slightly to beat oncoming traffic. Vanek was pushed back into the seat.
“Because he’d had a physical two days before that showed him to be in excellent health. If it was just that, I’d probably overlook it. But combined with the social media posts from a number of people who don’t know each other, I think it’s a pretty good bet it’s been hiding out there.”
“I thought these things needed life. Why go hide among the dead?”
“How the hell would I know?” she snapped, the sound of shuffling papers reaching his ears through the phone as well. “Just go check it out. This could be your chance to kill it.”
He nodded. She was right. It bore checking out. “I will. I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Good. Report back within the hour.”
Vanek pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at it in a mixture of surprise and anger. “I can’t be there that soon,” he said at last. “I’ll give you an update in the morning.”
“May I remind you, Vanek, that this is an Outsider we’re talking about?”
“No, it’s a potential Outsider sighting,” he corrected. “And I am on my way to see my mate, and tell her everything. I will go check it out after that.”
Colonel Mara sighed, the noise loud enough to make the phone crack a little. “Vanek. I know she means a lot to you. I get that, more than anybody else over here does. But you need to think about this. This is an Outsider. The thing that needs to be killed if you want to avoid becoming a hunted fugitive. Please stop making me be the bad guy, and do what needs to be done.”
Vanek glared out the side window as her words hit home. There was a definite truth to what she was saying, and he couldn’t avoid it. The Outsider was truly the primary thing of importance, much as he hated saying anything but Harlow occupied that spot. But the facts were clear. If he killed the Outsider, he would have all the time in the world with Harlow. But if he didn’t, it wouldn’t matter that Harlow was his. They would be torn apart anyway, and he would be abandoning her, just like she felt her father had.
His growl was so loud it rattled the windows and drew a concerned look from his driver. Vanek snapped at Colonel Mara, getting directions, and snarled them at the driver, his anger at not being in control of his own decisions getting the best of him. The SUV swung around and tires screeched as the driver, anxious to get rid of him, sped off toward the indicated graveyard with as much haste as was legally possible, and perhaps even a bit more.
“Fine,” he said icily. “I am on my way.”
Vanek hung up before she could respond, and almost immediately his guilt started setting in. Colonel Mara wasn’t the bad guy in all this. She was just following orders. She stood to lose just as much as the rest of them if Kallore was forced back to sleep, ripping the longest mated pair apart from each other. They were being pitted against each other by her superiors, the shortsighted fools.
The car sped through the city, the buildings growing shorter and the light in the sky growing dimmer as they moved away from the core. They were nearing their destination and he finally accepted he could avoid the inevitable no longer. Pulling out his phone, he took the cowardly way out, not feeling strong enough to use his own words.
Vanek: Hey Harlow, I’m sorry about this, but I’ve been unavoidably detained. Hopefully no more than half an hour, though it might be a bit more. I am coming though, and I’ll explain why when I’m there. Too many words for text.
Almost immediately her reply came back.
Harlow: Oh, okay V. Hurry back.
It was followed by a smiley face. He closed his eyes, gripping the phone tight. She was absolutely perfect, and he didn’t deserve her. Once this was all over, she was going to have his full attention and devotion.
“We’re here, sir,” the driver said nervously, eyes flicking between the road and the rearview mirror as they slowed to a halt in front of the graveyard. It was dark out now, and nobody wanted to be near a gathering of the dead without the sun to protect them.
“Thanks. No need to wait. I’ll call for another one. Not sure how long this will take.”
He hopped out of the car without another word, looking at the land in front of him. A medium-height wall surrounded the place, built of individually laid stone, stretching out to his right for some distance. To his left it stopped after maybe four hundred feet before making a turn and heading back into the distance, marking one corner. The graveyard itself was peaceful, covered in trees filled with green leaves and gently rolling hills. Tombstones covered the majority of the graves. Others closer to the center had larger markers, including a few actual buildings, if he didn’t miss his guess. Mausoleums to the dead.
With a quick burst of effort he cleared the stone wall and the short metal wrought-iron fence that had been set into the top of it, landing on both feet on the other side. Senses aware and dialed up to their maximum, he set off into the graveyard. Fire came to him, and he balled his fists to keep the flames hidden from anyone who might be looking.
Vanek wasn’t going to be caught off guard, that was for certain. If the Outsider was here, things could get really nasty, really quickly. His eyes pierced the dark with ease, but the external…skin? Armor? Whatever it was, of the Outsider was a matte black, unreflective and nearly impossible to see unless they moved. He needed to be ready for anything, anytime, if he hoped to succeed.
Moving lightly on his feet, he glided across the graveyard, keeping a watchful eye out for any signs of movement no matter how small. They had learned with Corde that the creatures weren’t aimless beings, despite their faceless appearance. They could think and strategize, possibly better than the red dragons could.
If they learn to organize better than blue dragons, we’re in big trouble.
He circled the property using maximum stealth, staying to the outside perimeter. The larger structures nearer the center kept him wary, as they could hide anything within them. Ensuring that the outer areas were secure first before heading in was the smart move.
To his knowledge, three Outsiders had escaped the military’s cordon of the portal in the mountains through which they’d come. So far, as best they could tell, they’d only been fighting one of them. But that didn’t mean they hadn’t linked up since the last time one of them was seen. Vanek needed to be ready for anything, and he began to wish Corde was with him.
A thorough search of the perimeter revealed nothing, forcing Vanek to start heading inward to the cluster of buildings at the center. He approached warily, eyes scanning every direction he could, but nothing moved. An owl swept by overhead, giving him a quick startle, but he recovered swiftly, keeping his eyes on the buildings.
He explored the first, a small little building with steep sloped roof. The door was solid stone, and showed no signs of having been moved in quite possibly centuries. The grass was built right up to it, and the door was weathered and beaten-looking. He gave a careful push, just in case, but it didn’t move. Shrugging, he moved on to the next.
Each little building revealed the same. Closed doors of wood or stone, and no signs of having been opened at all since they were first erected. Eventually he was forced to give up. Whatever those people had thought they’d seen, he could detect no sign of it. The graveyard was full of the dead and nothing more. It wasn’t the first time people had accredited supernatural happenings to graveyards, and he doubted it would be the last.
Frustrated at the lack of Outsider presence, and for having wasted nearly an hour of his time creeping around the eerie resting place of the dead, he headed for the exit, determined more than ever to reveal the truth of his purpose to Harlow. She needed to know what he was, and even more so, what being with him entailed.
Vanek hadn’t forgotten the fact that these monsters were attracted to the very lifeforce that gave him, Harlow, and every other living thing their existence. As a dragon, he had two differences compared to normal humans, both of which seemed to bring the Outsider like ho
ney.
First, he was superior genetically. Taller than all but the biggest humans, he was also far stronger, without the need to work out to attain such feats. His reflexes were more than just enhanced; they bordered on instantaneous. It was often his brain that couldn’t keep up to his body that required him to rein it in a bit. He could run faster and for longer than any human who had ever lived, and heal from wounds that would kill a human, all while doing so with record speed. What that all translated down to was that his lifeforce was like the sun compared to the twinkling north star of a normal human.
That much power contained in one vessel had already been shown to attract the Outsiders. First Kallore, and then Corde, the creature had come after them. With Kallore it had used brute force, only to find itself repelled. It had adapted, trying to use cunning and human laws to keep Corde out of the battle, but that too had been thwarted. Vanek wondered what approach it would take with him.
Why is it going to be me though?
The question hadn’t occurred to him before, but as he headed up the roadway to the front gate, it did now. He kept his senses focused outward though as he approached the caretaker’s hut, noting the light. Someone was burning the late-night oil as well. His strides increased as he grew closer, anxious to be within the light. Although dragons weren’t scared of the dark, he still felt more comfortable in the light.
Why hadn’t the Outsider gone after Corde or Kallore a second time? Instead it had seemed to jump from one to the next. It was just assumed that he would be the next target, instead of either of them. But why? There didn’t seem to be an obvious answer to it, but he knew there had to be one. It just wasn’t visible to him yet. He made a mental note to ask Colonel Mara about it, to see if she or anyone else had any theories on that front.
As the caretaker’s hut came near, Vanek ensured he was walking as silently as possible. He didn’t want to disturb anyone and be forced to answer any number of questions. All he wanted was to sneak past, summon a cab, and get to his mate’s side, where he belonged.
As he passed the door propped open in the summer heat, a thought that had been niggling away at the back of his head fin
ally burst forth into clarity. It was of his phone call with Colonel Mara, and something she’d said.
“…the elderly caretaker of the place was found dead yesterday morning.”
If the caretaker was dead though, then who—
The brick wall burst outward as a black shape over six feet tall came at him in a blur. He managed to dodge the first blow, and the second. But he’d been taken completely by surprise, and the Outsider pressed its advantage, striking again. And again. Eventually it connected, and Vanek was struck down by a backhanded slap of an arm, the black exterior making direct contact with his skin. He screamed as bright blue energy surged from the center of his body into the Outsider.
The matte-black body of his opponent cracked and split as it absorbed his lifeforce, the being inside growing larger with the increase of power. Tendrils of armor shot outward and back in on itself, looping around to begin stitching the holes shut in a disgusting display of self-healing as the armor regrew itself around the slightly larger frame.
Shaking his head, Vanek felt rock dust and fragments go everywhere in a spray of debris. A quick glance behind him showed that he’d been knocked sideways into a thick granite headstone on a nearby grave. He hadn’t even noticed the impact. His entire body ached, feeling heavy and weak after so much of his life had been ripped from him unwillingly.
The Outsider came forward. It was tough to call the lurching, humping, rippling gait a walk, but it somehow managed to move as fast as he could. Vanek tried to get up, but his muscles wouldn’t respond. He was too weak. Never before had he felt like this, not even after the worst of his fights with other dragons. His body was whole, but it was powerless.
One of the monster’s arms straightened, elongating itself into a razor-tipped lance that in a few moments would plunge into his heart, killing him and giving the creature his considerable lifeforce. It could then use that to kill the other dragons, opening the way for invasion that was expected in a few years’ time.
In that instant Vanek realized why the Outsiders hadn’t attacked the general human populace. They were scouts, this was known. What they hadn’t suspected was that they were also assassins. Sent to rid the world of its most potent defenders while escaping the notice of the general masses.
It all made perfect sense. If humanity as a whole became aware of them, they would unite and do whatever it took to defeat the Outsider scourge. Trillions of dollars would pour into weapons funding, and the Outsiders wouldn’t stand a chance when they came through the portal. They would be met by a united humanity and its fiercest fighters, backstopped by an army over seven billion strong. It would be a slaughter.
But if these scouts were to rid them of the dragons, while forcing the military to act alone and in secrecy, then they would simply be able to roll over humanity’s defenders with ease.
All of which meant that Vanek had to survive. He had to get up. Humanity needed him.
The lance drew back as the bipedal terror loomed up over him, preparing to end his life.
Get up.
The muscles refused. No matter how much the world was depending on him, he just…couldn’t. His eyes closed as he prepared to accept his end.
I’m sorry, Harlow. I won’t be making it after all.
Harlow.
Humanity might need him. But Harlow was waiting for him.
Vanek roared in righteous anger, and a blazing greatsword leapt to life in his hands. He swung it wildly from his slumped position as the lance darted toward his chest. A bright blue nimbus surrounded the sword as it sliced through the air. When it hit the black armor of the Outsider, a violent explosion blew apart the lance and sent the creature hurtling through the air into the darkness of the graveyard.
He stared at his hand for a moment as the sword vanished and his fatigue returned. What the hell had just happened to him?
There was no time to contemplate it though. He had to get out of there. Reaching for his pocket, he withdrew his phone intending to call Colonel Mara for backup.
“Shit,” he snarled, looking at the bent piece of plastic and metal. It must have gotten destroyed during the fight at some point.
Weakly he got to his hands and knees, but his elbows wobbled and gave out under him. Vanek was weak and vulnerable. It was an unsettling situation, one that he never wanted to repeat. But he wasn’t going to die today. Not here, not while Harlow was waiting for him. He had a date.
One hand after the next, he dragged himself up the paved driveway of the graveyard, heading for the gate. Thankfully it was unlocked and he pushed himself through, eventually making it to the street.
A passerby stopped, running over to him to ask if he was okay.
“Just. Drunk. Need a cab,” he said, letting the natural slur of his voice work in his favor. There was no time for police, or cabs. He needed to get back to Harlow.
His vision blurred and he realized he was growing weaker. The bystander called a cab, at which point he assured them he’d be fine. They didn’t like it, but they left him alone, moving on.
Eventually a white and black checkered vehicle arrived, and he managed to pull himself inside after great difficulty, and with more than a little help of the driver. Realizing he wasn’t going to stay awake for much longer, Vanek made a tough call. He needed help.
Giving the driver the address of the penthouse, the buzzer, and Corde’s name, he slumped across the back seat, utterly spent. Corde could call Harlow. They would let her know.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out.
Corde
He was whistling to himself when the buzzer started sounding repeatedly.
“Odd,” he muttered to himself, pushing his blond hair back out of his eyes. It had been growing longer as of late, and he kept meaning to get it cut.
Walking over to
the speaker on the wall he pressed the button to speak. “Yes, who is it?”
“Uh, hello sir. I have a man here. He gave me this address and your name, said to call you.”
“What man?”
“I don’t know, sir. He’s asleep in the back of my cab. Seems drunk.”
Corde frowned at the speaker. What the hell? “What does the man look like?”
“Big. Very big, sir. Long black hair. Lots of muscles. Insisted I bring him here to you.”
Vanek. It had to be Vanek.
“Pull into the underground parking. Lowest level, right up to the private entry gate. I’ll meet you there,” he said, heading hurriedly to the elevator.
Vanek wasn’t much of a drinker. Red dragons weren’t as a general rule. That was the purview of the black dragons and their bronze cousins. Which meant that something was very, very wrong with Vanek. He wasn’t asleep.
He was unconscious.
The elevator whisked downward while he tapped his fingers in exasperation, wishing it would move swifter. The instant the bell chimed and the door slid open he was on the move, bare feet slamming against the asphalt underneath as he raced for the gate that marked the start of their private parking area.
The white and black patterned vehicle was waiting for him, the back door open. The driver just sort of stood there, looking helpless as he viewed the limp form of Vanek.
“Thank you,” he said, reaching in and pulling Vanek out, lifting him into a firemen’s carry. “I’ll take it from here.”
“Uh, sir, there is payment.”
Corde snarled at the added frustration, but he couldn’t stiff the man. It wasn’t his fault. “Leave a bill at the front desk with my name on it. You’ll get paid double.”
Then he raced back for the elevator and took the two of them upstairs. Laying Vanek on a couch, he tried to wake his friend, tapping his cheek and even pouring a glass of water over his face, but it didn’t work. Vanek’s mighty lungs still rose and fell in slow rhythm, but whatever had happened, he wasn’t responding.