Madness Unleashed (Dragons of Zalara Book 1)

by ML Guida

  8

  Damon clutched the titanium box underneath his arm. He still tasted Hera’s sweet taste in his mouth, but he couldn’t figure out what had happened with the plant in his quarters and then the box in sickbay.

  Anonghos escorted Damon to Excalibur. “Do you want me to go with you? I can be your back-up.”

  Damon shook his head. “No, it’s too dangerous.”

  “Anonghos, something’s going on with Hera. I need you to keep an eye on her, but don’t tell Taog.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “Because he’ll put her in isolation.”

  Anonghos gripped his arm. “What happened?”

  Damon quickly told him what occurred in his quarters. “You saw what took place in sickbay.”

  Anonghos’ cheek twitched, and his eyes darkened. “Do you think she’s dangerous?”

  “No, I don’t. She’s vulnerable, Anonghos. I need someone I can trust to watch over her. I’m not sure how this thing is going to go down. I can’t do this if I have to worry about her.”

  “What about Cosima?”

  Damon sighed, then hung his head. Warring feelings swirled inside him. His loyalty for Cosima would never die, but something had changed. He’d felt more drawn toward Hera then he’d ever felt toward Cosima.

  But your mate won’t be down below, the voice said. You’ll be powerless.

  Tiny pulses of biting pain raked up Damon’s spine. He shuddered and gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to cry out. He turned away from Anonghos.

  “The voice is back, isn’t it?”

  Damon slowly raised his head. “It never went away. When Hera is around, it loses power, along with the pain.”

  Anonghos clutched his shoulder. “I promise I’ll keep her safe.”

  Damon smiled. “Just don’t make her mad. That’s when she nearly dumped a plant on my head and threw a box against the wall.”

  He smirked. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I don’t have the same problem with women as you do.”

  Damon saluted him. “Later, bro.”

  Anonghos grabbed him and gave him a zeeker hug that gave Damon hope he might just survive this.

  No, you won’t, the voice said. Unless you do as exactly as I say.

  Damon jerked his head. “Just watch her.”

  “I will.”

  Damon entered Excalibur, hoping Anonghos would keep his word. He was an excellent security officer, but sometimes, he only saw things in black and white. He wanted him to protect Hera–not arrest her.

  He sat the box next to him and ignited the engines. The Orion’s doors slowly opened, and he flew Excalibur out of the hanger. Dread slowly dripped down into his soul. This wasn’t going to end well.

  The voice laughed inside him. You’re right. It won’t.

  Damon thought of the Hera, and the voice’s smugness diminished. He smiled. Maybe there was hope.

  Damon carefully landed Excalibur on the space station’s landing pad. Once again, he was met with no movement. He grabbed the box. Another wave of pain gripped him. Taking deep breaths, he counted backward until he could gain control. He licked his lips, tasting Hera’s sweetness. Thankfully, the pain lessened.

  He headed out of the doors, determined to capture one of the evil things. He pulled out his eruptor and eyed the deep shadows with trepidation. What if another one of those things attacked him? Would he have two voices driving him crazy?

  You’ll soon see, the voice said.

  Damon drew on his strength and tried to block out the taunting voice. He focused on the task at hand and thought of his mate. It was the only way to stay sane.

  He gripped the eruptor and slowly made his way to the shadows. The dreaded chirps were back, and he froze. The voice inside him had gone strangely quiet, which had to be a bad omen. He couldn’t see anything, but he knew they were there; he could sense them. He slowly crept inside, pressing his back against the wall. He cradled the box next to his chest, determined not to drop it. Maybe he’d get lucky and step on one like he had before, but so far–nothing.

  He went further into the darkness, his eyes readjusting. The chirps grew louder, almost as if they were beckoning him. A few feet away, something moved. A flash of gold made him gasp. He shook his head, not sure what he was seeing. Had those things morphed into something else?

  He broke out in a sweltering sweat, and his hand that was holding the eruptor shook. Blazes, all he wanted to do was to capture one of the damn things and head back to the Orion and Hera.

  The gold grew brighter. He aimed the eruptor, but as it moved closer, he realized it wasn’t one of those things. It was blond hair. By the Fates, it was Cosima.

  Not caring what happened, he drew on dragon speed and rushed toward her. “Cosima!”

  She fell onto her knees. “Damon? Is that you?”

  He gathered her in his arms. “It’s me.”

  “Damon…Taog…where is he? I must get to him.”

  He tensed. Her voice had changed. It was harsh and desperate, not soft and loving like usual.

  He put the eruptor and the box down. She watched him carefully as if she was about to pounce on him. He clasped her shoulders. “Why?”

  She tilted her head back and screamed. Panting, she said, “The ship. I…need… the ship. Or they’ll…kill Greum. I can’t lose…him.” She clutched his arm tight, her fingernails digging into his flesh. “Help…me.”

  You will go with the her and take over the ship, the dreaded voice echoed.

  Damon shook his head. “I know what they want. They want you to kill the captain and take the ship. You have to fight this, Cosima.”

  Sharp pain dug into his spine, as if a knife was being dragged down his back. Obey me, the voice insisted.

  He tensed, trying to block out the pain.

  She laid her forehead on his chest. “You’re infected, too. Aren’t you?” Her warmth breath wheezed on his skin. “Been…trying,” she said. “Can’t fight…it.”

  “Yes, you can.” He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. Her eyes were glazed and her pupils wide.

  “No!” She jerked her head free of his grip. “They’re torturing him in the dungeon. They’re killing him! Take me to the captain now!”

  Her voice turned venomous, and she slid her hands to his throat, nails scratching his skin. Death flickered in her eyes. He easily broke away from her.

  Lucky for him, she wasn’t a dragon. Zalarian women were not shape-shifters but possessed other powers. Hers was the gift of sight.

  She lunged for him, screaming, her hands curled into claws.

  “I’m sorry, Cosima,” he said as he pulled out his eruptor.

  She swung her arm, nearly missing his face.

  Gritting his teeth, he fired the eruptor, stunning her. She cried out, her body shaking violently. He stopped firing, and she collapsed onto the ground.

  He rushed over and cradled her in his arms. Tears leaked down his face. “Forgive me.” He thought about taking her back to the Orion, but she’d only be in extreme pain and dangerous without Greum.

  He lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the Excalibur, then tied her to a chair. She’d be safe for now. The only way to save her was to retrieve her mate.

  His telicator buzzed. He answered. “Damon.”

  “What’s going on down there? Did you capture a creature yet?” Taog asked.

  “No, but I found the queen.”

  “Is she alive?”

  “Barely,” he muttered. “I had to stun her.”

  “Why?”

  He flinched at the captain’s accusatory tone. “Same as me, Captain. She wants to kill you and take the ship. The only way to help her is to find the king.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  Damon hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was to venture into the dungeon. It was well guarded and no one had ever escaped.

  “Damon, answer me!”

  He clutched the telicopter tight. “He’s in the dungeon. Befor
e Cosima passed out, she said they were torturing him–killing him.”

  “Damn it,” Taog grumbled. “There’s nothing you can do, Damon.”

  He’s right, the hate voice said. He’s dying. Then the evil laugh made Damon stiffen.

  He turned his head, trying to concentrate on the captain.

  “Capture a creature,” Taog said. “Then bring it and the queen on board the Orion and get the hell out of there.”

  “Captain, I can’t do that. I need–”

  Cosmia let out a blood-curdling scream, blocking out his answer. He jumped back, losing about nine dragon lives. “Blazes.”

  “Damon,” Taog said softly. “Is she dead?”

  He brushed the silky hair out of her sleek face. “No, but I fear she soon will be.”

  “You need to get her to Tryker.”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  You can’t save her.

  The damn voice was prying on Damon’s fear. It wanted him to panic, but he pictured Hera’s lovely face and pushed it back.

  Misery slammed into his gut, and he gasped.

  “Damon, are you all right?” Taog demanded.

  He gritted his teeth. “Yes. The creature is…using its tentacles to crush me on the inside.” He took a long shaky breath. “Captain, I have been thinking. Like Hera, maybe Greum can heal the queen.”

  The queen twitched again, and he was afraid she’d come out of it again. She moaned, twisting her head from side to side. The damn creature must be stimulating her, forcing her to wake.

  “She’s in pain. I’m not sure how much longer she’ll last.”

  Not long, the voice said. Unless she obeys us.

  Damon clenched his fist, wishing he could plow it into the hateful creature.

  “Damon, this is Tryker. Listen to me, it won’t do any good bringing the queen back without a creature. The most I can do is sedate her. And you saw how well the sedatives worked on you.”

  “But she’s not a dragon.”

  “If I thought it would help her, I’d suggest you bring her on board immediately.”

  “Then what do you suggest I do, Doctor?”

  “Complete your mission. Capture one of the creatures. We need to examine it and discover how Ualan became free of it. Can you do this?”

  “I don’t know, Doctor. I think I should go after Greum.” No matter how much it pained him, it was the right thing to do. He could deny his queen nothing.

  “No,” Tryker said. His voice was desperate. “I need the creature. Damon, it’s not just about saving the queen but all our people. I have to find out how to destroy it without killing the host. Will you do this?”

  Damon cursed under his breath, wanting to shut out the doctor.

  “Answer me!” Tryker demanded loudly. “Will you do this?”

  “Don’t have much of choice, do I?”

  “No, you don’t,” Taog interrupted.

  Cosima moaned, and tears slipped down her temples. She was in agony. He kissed her forehead. “I won’t fail you, my queen. I promise.”

  Yes, you will the voice said. If you don’t do as I say, she’ll die. Kill the captain and take control of the ship.

  Ignoring the voice, he reluctantly left her in the ship and proceeded outside. Like before, he cradled the box to his chest and held an eruptor in his hand. Squeaks came from the shadows where he’d found the queen, and he slowly proceeded. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. He sniffed. The whiff of fire was heavy in the air. Someone had transformed into a dragon. Fighting wasn’t on his agenda.

  Another squeak spurred him to move. He went deeper into the shadows, but with each step he took, the smell of fire grew stronger. Heavy footsteps drew near. Damon’s heart beat faster.

  He looked around for the creatures, but so far, he hadn’t located them. The squeaks faded as if they’d moved. Or perhaps they were hiding, not wanting to be found.

  Through the darkness, two angry red eyes peered at him. He sucked in his breath. Whoever it was had to be possessed–Zalarians’ eyes were gold, not red. He looked over his shoulder, debating whether he should return to the ship, but without a damn creature, they’d be no closer to saving his people.

  He gritted his teeth and surged forward; not even the low growl failed to make him turn back. He aimed the eruptor at the red eyes.

  “Stay where you are,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  But the red-eyes moved closer. The outline of a dragon formed–pointed ears, jagged spikes on its spine, and a long black tail. Crap, it was the king–the most powerful dragon on Zalara.

  Get back to the ship, fool. Or you’ll be killed.

  The king opened his mouth, and a stream of fire burst out. Damon dove to the side and rolled, smashing into the side of the building. The agony of white pain smeared through him. The scorching heat barely missed him, but the heat swept over his shaking body. Then a ball of fire lit up the darkness like a glowing sun. Damon was breathing hard, and sweat trickled into his eye.

  Behind the king, the treacherous things were clinging to the wall. It was as if they were watching, waiting to see if Damon would obey and run.

  He narrowed his eyes, then stuffed his weapon into his belt and set the box on the ground. “I’m not going anywhere. Let’s do this.” He drew himself up to his full height, then transformed. He roared, pulling back to his upper lip into a sneer.

  The king answered with a louder roar that echoed in his ears, then flashed out his massive wings.

  Damon wasn’t as strong as the king, but all he needed to do was to get around him to get to those blasted things. He only needed one–just one.

  He opened his wings, then thundered headlong toward the king, who waited stubbornly, as if he was a wall of protection for those miserable creatures.

  Damon took a deep breath, then exhaled a flame. It was only a matter of few seconds before he reached the king, who easily ducked. The things weren’t so lucky, and a blaze slammed into them. They screeched and fell onto the floor–stunned–but he knew they weren’t dead. Otherwise, his people would have sizzled them into crispy critters.

  The king swung his tail and smashed it into Damon’s face. Pain exploded in his snout, and blood burst into the air. He flew backward, somersaulted over and over again, then landed on his back. The king lunged, stretching out talons that tore into Damon’s thick, scaly hide as if it were tissue. Misery kicked the crap out of him. The king raised his talon, but Damon managed to thrust his leg and jabbed his foot hard in the king’s gut. He howled and moved, giving Damon chance to escape.

  Damon rolled onto his side and staggered to his feet. Even in dragon form the pain was intolerable, and dizziness swirling around him, he fought not to pass it. Not giving the king chance to attack, Damon swiped his tail and knocked him onto the ground. Greum moaned and for a minute, his eyes turned back to gold. He looked at Damon with remorse.

  Damon hesitated, thinking about helping him, but it had to be a trick. The voice had said they were torturing him, and who knew what those things could have done–Kamtrinians possessed no mercy.

  As if the king had heard him, his eyes turned back to a burning red. He jumped onto his feet like he wasn’t in any pain, but Damon must have hurt him more than he thought he had. Deep bloody red scratches were on his gut and across his chest. Or had he?

  Greum walked around as if he was sizing Damon and his back was as torn up as his front. The gashes must have been horrendous when he was in human form to leave such marks on his hide. The things must have tortured him, driving him mad. The king wasn’t himself. He narrowed his eyes and snorted, puffing out smoke. Drool dripped from his jaw. He was too dangerous to take back to the Orion.

  When the king moved behind him, Damon took a chance. He stretched out his wings and flew toward the things still on the ground. The king roared, and flames hit him in the back. Damon screamed but didn’t give up. He swooped down and seized one of the things, then soared into the air with the king on his tr
ail.

  Prepare to die, the voice said. But for the first time it echoed with fear.

  Ignoring the agony rippling through him, Damon flew toward the titanium box. The thing screeched in his hand, and a flapping sound stole his breath. He looked over his shoulder, and a swarm of the creatures were behind the king. Drawing on his dragon strength, instead of heading for the box, he made for the forest, hoping to lose them in there.

  He dove in out of the branches and leaves. Behind him, wood splintered, crunched, and crashed. He stole a glance, and the king was flying diagonally, crashing into branches, while the thick leaves slapped those things, slowing them down.

  He didn’t know why and didn’t care for now. He whirled around and sped toward the box. Any minute, the king would break free. The Excalibur was only a mile away.

  Another roar echoed behind him. The king was free!

  You’re dead. The king will kill your captain.

  He couldn’t hold onto the blasted creature and fight the king, but he had to try. Not that he thought it would work, he released the thing. He inhaled deeply, then blew onto the creature. Luckily, the thing fell to the ground unconscious, but it wouldn’t be out for long.

  He only had minutes…

  Hoping he was wrong, Damon dove toward the ground, and in mid-air he transformed. He braced himself for the hard landing, every instinct telling him to change back into a dragon, but he couldn’t stun the king in dragon form. He smashed into the ground, and the agony of bones crushing seized his breath. He wrestled to pull out the eruptor, pain running up his arm. Gritting his teeth, he rolled onto his back and fired, hitting the king as he’d stretched out his talons ready to tear Damon into the pieces.

  The king screeched, then his wings collapsed, and he crashed onto the ground with a dead thud. His eyes fluttered shut.

  But the things picked up speed. Damon fired a wide spray, and like before, they dropped to the ground, flopping around like frogs.

  Damon climbed to his feet. The unconscious creature he’d burned fluttered. He seized it. The thing moved its stinger, but it barely moved. He stuffed it into the box as fast as he could. Time was against him.