by Sarah Noffke
“It does not,” Mama Jamba scolded and pursed her lips at the dragonrider.
Wilder indicated her short stack of pumpkin pancakes with his fork. “Then why aren’t you eating any of it?”
“I don’t eat any of my creatures,” Mama Jamba stated smugly, then cut into a pancake and took a bite. “Especially sheep because they’re so cute.”
“You know, if you can’t sleep, count sheep,” Lunis began, quoting another Mitch Hedberg line. “Don’t count endangered animals. You’ll run out.”
Most at the table laughed.
Mama Jamba nodded, like this was a perfectly good idea and not a joke. “Sheep are good for many things. Dumb as rocks, but cute. I did pretty good with those creations.”
“Dumb as Wilder,” Lunis corrected. “That’s how the expression goes. I’m pretty sure.”
The other dragons with their heads inside the dining hall regarded Lunis with keen interest. Sophia was pretty sure the new dragons didn’t know how to respond to his flippant and playful style while also being under the elder dragons' influence. It would take time before their real personalities came out and the dragons acted naturally. The same was true for the new riders as well.
“Well, thanks for making this happen, Trin.” Hiker took a roll from the basket and buttered it.
“It was all Sophia’s idea,” the cyborg stated.
“You did all the work,” Sophia replied. “Hopefully, we can do something festive for Christmas too. I think it’s good to take breaks and celebrate with each other.”
Ainsley nodded. “I agree. Now we have new faces, and the table is filling up, which is nice.”
Hiker glanced down the table where the three new riders sat on the other side of Mahkah. Quiet was across from them and the chair beside him where Evan usually sat, empty. “Yes, I envision that this table will be full not too long from now.”
“Oh, can we hang stockings from the mantle?” Lunis asked, having finished his vat of potatoes. “I want one with my name on it.”
“What do you want for Christmas?” Wilder asked the blue dragon, looking over his shoulder at him.
“Peace and cheer,” Lunis answered at once and quickly added, “So, for you to off yourself.”
Wilder laughed. “I should have seen that coming.”
“You really should have,” Sophia replied.
“What is the ultimate stocking stuffer?” Lunis asked quite seriously.
“What?” Mahkah took the bait.
“A severed foot,” Lunis answered, and the whole table laughed at another of his Mitch Hedberg lines.
The laughter seemed to be infectious, or maybe it was the flowing wine, but it went on as though it would never stop.
Running feet made everyone pause and tense, although most still wore gleeful expressions.
A moment later, Evan sped into the dining hall, looking awful. His brow dripped sweat, and it drenched his shirt. His face was long and his eyes wide as he whipped his head over his shoulder as if something followed him. His chest dramatically heaved as he bent over to collect himself.
Trin jumped up from her seat. “Evan! Where have you been? No one has seen you for ages.”
“Hey mate,” Wilder chirped. “I didn’t realize you’d been gone.”
Evan rose and narrowed his eyes at Quiet, who hadn’t turned to look at the commotion and was simply digging into the haggis. Evan pointed with an accusatory expression on his face. “You!” he seethed. “It was you behind that trick with the angels.”
“Angels?” Hiker questioned. “What about angels?”
“Stone statues of angels that if I looked away from them transported me to distant places in the Castle,” Evan replied. “I’ve been lost all this time.”
Wilder shook his head. “After a hundred years, you’d think you’d know your way around this place better.”
“Are you all right?” Trin looked Evan up and down.
He nodded and eyed the spread on the table. “I’m starving.”
“I was about to eat the last of the chips.” Wilder picked up the platter. “Since I guess no one else wants them.”
Evan grabbed them and delivered a challenging look as he sat in his usual place. “Not a chance, mate. Those are all mine. Everything here is mine. I’ll even eat the haggis at this point.”
Trin also returned to her seat and gave Quiet a speculative look. “Did you really play that game on Evan?”
The gnome mumbled something and stuffed a bite in his mouth.
Mama Jamba nodded. “We all have to be humbled sometimes, especially the mouthier we are.”
Evan rolled his eyes. “There’s no winning with that short guy. He’s going to torture me no matter what I do.”
“Maybe don’t give him so many reasons to punish you,” Sophia offered.
“That could be impossible,” Wilder stated.
Hiker shook his head. “Well, I’m glad you’re back. I was starting to wonder.”
“I’m grateful that you were worried about me, sir.” Evan crammed a handful of french fries into his mouth.
“I didn’t say worried,” Hiker corrected. “It’s good to have everyone at the table for this celebration though.”
“Including me,” Lunis added.
“Everyone,” Hiker repeated and held up his goblet of wine. “I think this calls for a toast. We’ve had a small victory, and I’d like to acknowledge that.”
“We have?” Evan asked, confused.
“We did.” Wilder indicated himself, Sophia, and Mahkah. “You were fooled by stone statues.”
“They moved, man,” Evan said in a convincing voice. “Like, came after me.”
“You also suffered from hallucinations,” Wilder added.
Hiker cleared his throat, still holding his goblet high in the air. “Anyway, as I was saying, we have much to be grateful for. We’ve pushed the Rogue Riders back yet again. We’ve earned back our reputations as defenders of good. We’ve welcomed new members to our ranks. Cheers.”
There was a collective chorus of cheers around the table as they all clinked glasses. Sophia smiled, thinking that things were coming together for the Dragon Elite. Hiker was right. One day, the table would fill with riders. One day, the world would fully rely on them as the supreme source of adjudication.
First, well, they needed to refill their reserves and take this opportunity to enjoy each other. There would be time to save the world tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.
Today, it was time for them to preserve their spirit, and there was no better way to do that than to be with the ones they loved.
Chapter Fifty-Six
“Hold her still,” Nathaniel ordered the two Rogue Riders needed to restrain the Warrior for the House of Fourteen.
They’d used a few restraining and stunning spells on her, but she seemed to tolerate them like hard liquor.
The large woman thrashed back and forth, nearly knocking one of the dragonriders holding her against the nearby wall. Her eyes were red with vengeance, and her cheeks puffed out from her efforts, fighting the others as they restrained her hands.
Nathaniel had tried to avoid what he was forced to do next. If he was going to get information out of the Warrior, then it was best to have her conscious, but it appeared he needed to deplete her first. Weaken her and try it again.
Raising an eyebrow, he gave a pointed look at the dragonrider on the other side of the Warrior, who wasn’t struggling as much once restrained. “Do it,” Nathaniel ordered, knowing that the other man knew what he had to do at this point, per their earlier discussion.
The large dragonrider nodded and picked up a stick leaning against the wall. Before the woman could push back in her chair and complicate matters more, the Rogue Rider brought the weapon swiftly across the Warrior's head, sending her chin straight down at once. She went still immediately, passed out.
Nathaniel sighed. Thankfully Trudy DeVries had been knocked out and hopefully would give them less trouble when she awoke
, no doubt bleary-eyed, with a giant headache.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
“What was she doing when you found her?” Nathaniel asked the Rogue Rider who had snuck up on Trudy DeVries, a known Warrior for the House of Fourteen.
She’d busted Nathaniel more than a few times for selling illegal magi-tech and various other business dealings she deemed “amoral.” That had made it harder not to beat the woman senseless upon learning that she’d been spying on the Rogue Riders. However, Nathaniel needed information.
Versalee had recently cut him off for whatever reason. She’d left on a secret mission to secure “something or another that will be important for the Rogue Rider’s future,” and she wasn’t answering any of his messages. He knew she got them. Knew she was okay, for the most part. However, her clipped replies made him think the leader of the Rogue Riders might be double-crossing him.
What if she’d made a deal with the House of Fourteen behind his back? Offered him and the dragonriders in Las Vegas in exchange for immunity or something? That had been his first thought when they’d found the Warrior for the House of Fourteen prowling around. The Rogue Riders were the Dragon Elite’s problem, as evidenced by them trying to make a mockery of them recently on Las Vegas Boulevard.
A mob of angry magicians had overrun Nathaniel and his men, enforced by the Dragon Elite. One day, they’d get their reckoning. One day he’d make them pay for trying to make him look bad. First, he had to find out why a Warrior was in his territory or at least the area he was trying to secure.
Las Vegas had proven harder than he imagined to get reins on. The fae weren’t the problem. They were dumb as bricks and didn’t seem to mind that the Rogue Riders were infiltrating the city. The magicians had been the bigger issue, which further fed Nathaniel’s suspicions about the Warrior for the House of Fourteen since they were part of their domain.
The Rogue Rider who had knocked Trudy DeVries over the head and made her pass out had also caught her spying. He combed his hands through his greasy brown hair. “She followed me down here, into the underground city.”
Nathaniel slapped the guy on the side of the head. “I told you to be more careful. We can’t have anyone knowing this is where we’re setting up our operations.”
The guy flashed Nathaniel a seething look when he recovered from the assault, but he didn’t dare return the attack. There weren’t many Rogue Riders at Nathaniel’s disposal, but the ones under his authority didn’t cross him. That was the other thing. Versalee had taken the bulk of the dragonriders with her, saying that she’d need them and also spoke of recruiting more.
However, Nathaniel didn’t know how many more were out there. Only the Dragon Elite would know that apparently since they had access to the globe that showed the demon dragons. But still, there couldn’t be too many out there.
“I caught her following me, boss,” the guy replied. “My dragon snuck up on her and knocked her out with his tail when I told him what was going on. So I think it’s okay that she followed me. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have her.”
Nathaniel narrowed his eyes. “I don’t accept your rationale for being incompetent, but at least you’ve finally mastered telepathy with your dragon. It’s about time.”
The guy shrugged. “It only works half the time, but it’s better than it was before.”
Nathaniel shook his head and glanced at the other guy stationed beside Trudy DeVries. “Keep an eye on her and let me know when she wakes up. I need to find out who sent her here and how she knew to follow a Rogue Rider.”
He nodded dutifully in reply as Nathaniel made for the aluminum door and beckoned the first one to follow. It smelled like garbage in the underground tunnel outside the small concrete room where they held the Warrior, and darkness blanketed the graffiti-covered conduit.
The passageways that ran under the city of Las Vegas were wide enough to accommodate the dragons, but some of the larger ones had to duck inside them. The tunnels used to be home to the city’s bums and low-lives, but Nathaniel and the Rogue Riders had run them out pretty quickly. Now it was their domain, and although it wasn’t open, light, or pleasant, it was a place for them to grow stronger and take over Las Vegas.
Versalee knew that they had taken up residence in the underground warren, which was another thing that made Nathaniel suspicious of the Rogue Riders’ leader. The Warrior for the House of Fourteen might have simply followed someone down there, but it was also possible that she knew exactly where to look.
“When you were up there, leading a Warrior down here,” Nathaniel began, nodding up to the ceiling where the city was humming above them, “did you find any more recruits?”
The guy nodded. “Sure did boss. Word is spreading. The criminals in this city seem keen to have our protection from the authorities in exchange for a cut of their profits. I think people are starting to like what the Rogue Riders can do for them.”
Nathaniel grinned. “It was only a matter of time. We keep them out of jail, and they keep our pockets full.”
“What about regulating their crimes though, boss?” the guy asked as they strode down the darkened tunnel in the direction of the main room. There were dragons up ahead, lounging against the spray-painted walls and chewing on various bones. “Isn’t that part of it?”
Nathaniel grimaced as a dragon slung a half-eaten dead rat at his feet. He lifted his boot and stepped over it. “Yeah, we’re not doing that. Versalee had talked about it, but we’ve decided we don’t care how criminals operate. Our game will be protecting them from the police in exchange for their profits. Who cares how they conduct their business, as long as we get paid?”
“Copy that, boss,” the guy replied. “What do you want me to do now?”
“Go figure out how to fly your dragon already,” Nathaniel growled and turned into the main room. It was a large concrete space filled with the various things they’d stolen, and where most of the Rogue Riders hung out, played cards, fought, or slept off their hangovers.
“Yeah, about that,” the guy began. “I hoped that someone could help me…maybe you?”
Nathaniel kicked the makeshift table where one of the dragonriders was giving another a tattoo. All the equipment slid across the floor and both guys tensed, the needle nearly stabbing the one getting the tattoo in his arm. “Is that the best use of your time, you idiots? Why don’t you make yourselves useful and prowl the city for criminals? We’re not going to build a reputation decorating our arms with pig’s faces.”
The tattooist stood, his eyes shifting with fear. “It’s a dragon, boss.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “Seriously, you’re a horrible artist. Go up to the city and find some drug dealers and prostitutes.”
“Yes, sir.” The guy gathered up the tattoo equipment. The other man rubbed his arm where his unfinished tattoo was located and frowned at the bad artwork.
Nathaniel turned to the other guy. “No, I can’t help you learn how to ride your dragon. Figure it out on your own, like the rest of us.”
The guy combed his hands through his hair again. “I just thought there has to be some training of sorts. Or a book or something…”
“We’re dragon-freaking-riders,” Nathaniel spat. “Not stupid nerds. Now get out of my sight and don’t return until you can ride your dragon.”
The guy didn’t hesitate before speeding off. Many of the Rogue Riders in the main area followed him out, probably not wanting to suffer Nathaniel’s wrath.
That’s how it should be, the redhead thought proudly. He didn’t know who he could trust anymore, but he held authority over his men. So if Versalee double-crossed him, he’d take her down. Regardless of what happened, he would take over the city—one criminal at a time. Soon, he and the Rogue Riders would own Las Vegas.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
“Hey, will one of you lame-os hand me the bacon?” Evan pointed at the silver platter on the far side of the table, sitting right in front of Cooper.
Sophia shook her head and held out h
er hand to the newbie dragonrider before he could comply with the request. She narrowed her eyes at Evan. “Why don’t you try that again? This time, with no name-calling.”
Evan rolled his eyes, pinned both his elbows on the table in the dining hall of the Castle in the Gullington, and leaned in Cooper’s direction. “Would you, person who acts in ways that are lame, hardly says anything, and acts like we’re going to cut you for showing a personality, hand over the bacon?” He flashed a wide smile at Sophia and added, “Pretty please…”
Wilder laughed and took a bite of bagel. “You’re so charming that it hurts sometimes.”
Evan leveled his gaze at him. “That’s because you’re a wuss who has a low pain threshold.”
“It’s true,” Wilder chirped. “That’s why I’ve wanted you to cover your face. Looking at it pains me.”
“Because I’m so handsome and it pains you that you have to live in my shadow for many more centuries to come,” Evan boasted.
“The idea that I have to stand you for any amount of time, let alone centuries, is the excruciating part.” Wilder turned to Sophia. “If it gets too much to bear, will you put me out of my misery?”
She shook her head, unamused by the guys’ usual antics. Something had her worried…well, a lot of things. “You both have to figure out how to live with each other for the rest of your days.”
“I might kill you if you don’t get out of my chair,” Hiker boomed as he strode into the dining hall and pointed at Wilder, who had taken up residence in the leader of the Dragon Elite’s chair.
“Oh, sorry, sir,” Wilder stated. “Cooper was in my usual chair next to Sophia, and I didn’t know if you’d show up for breakfast.”
The newbie dragonrider jumped to his feet. “I-I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know we had certain seats.” He scrambled for one of the empty chairs on the other side of the two other new men. There were at least twenty open seats on the far side of the table that stretched the room's length.
“We don’t,” Hiker growled, his chin low as he stared down at Wilder, taking the now empty chair next to Sophia.