Kristen chose a direction at random, Shadowstorm was still below them—waiting for them, no doubt. She assumed he wanted to use the steam to tire them, but she felt certain that he wanted to face her. Apparently, she’d made the wrong choice. As soon as she started down the left path, another wave of energy seemed to surge through the pipes and burst one of those directly ahead.
Steam immediately filled the tunnel.
“Let’s push through,” Drew shouted over the hiss of steam.
“No!” she yelled and turned the other way.
“He’s herding us to him,” Jim protested.
“Better that than being cooked like dumplings,” she responded and strode on. There was no need to explain that she felt sure he was guiding them to him and that she intended to go along with it.
The team followed until one of the pipes in that tunnel also erupted. She had been damn close to it at that moment and immediately turned her skin to steel but could still feel the heat through her protective layer of metal. There could be no doubt that one of her teammates would have second- or third-degree burns if they’d been the ones to lead.
“Turn back,” she ordered.
“I saw a stairway though there,” Keith hollered.
“It’s too dangerous. Turn back.”
“But—” She ignored his protests and turned quickly, caught him by the arm, and dragged him from the steam-choked passage. She didn’t want to use her aura on her team—partly because it would split her focus and make it harder to track Shadowstorm, and partly because she thought they deserved better than that—but she was sorely tempted. Her adversary wouldn’t have had any reservations about using his aura to keep humans from danger. In fact, he’d probably think that not using his aura would be wrong. Like letting a killer walk free when you had many jail cells.
But Kristen wasn’t him, not yet anyway. So she avoided the temptation to make her team feel terrified at the prospect of facing a dragon made of shadow and storm that had the knowledge to control the steam veins of the Motor City. Instead, she treated them as equals, and they pressed on.
She led them down the third tunnel. They made it perhaps thirty yards when they discovered the end blocked by fallen rubble. She was dumbfounded as she’d honestly thought Shadowstorm was leading them to him. Why send them down a collapsed tunnel?
“We need to go back,” Drew said, stating the obvious before anyone else could.
They spun to begin their retreat but one of the pipes in the tunnel they were in ruptured and filled the tunnel with steam.
“Shit!” she cursed. “This is my fault. I thought he was leading me down there for a fight.”
“Why fight the Steel Dragon when you could simply steam her alive?” Jim asked morosely.
“We have to take those stairs that Keith saw.” Drew gestured down the tunnel and then toward the left.
“How the hell can we get through that?” Keith rubbed his head. “It’s like pea soup. I can’t see through it at all. Plus, it’ll steam us like broccoli.”
“The pipe ruptured on the left,” Jim said. “I think if we stick to the right, the temperature shouldn’t be that bad.”
“Then we follow the wall with our hands until it turns to the right, hold hands, and cut across to where Keith saw the stairs.” She tried to keep her voice calm despite the rising temperature in the tunnel.
“That sounds good,” Drew said and took point.
“Sure, if by good you mean it sounds like a great fucking way to end up on a dragon’s plate next to a cup of melted butter,” Keith said but he fell into step behind the team leader.
Kristen let them go first. If she led the way with her steel skin, she wouldn’t be able to tell if it was safe for humans.
They entered the steam. Even with her night vision, she could hardly see through the billowing clouds of heated vapor so it wasn’t much of a surprise when Keith vanished.
It was terrifying—definitely and unequivocally terrifying—but not a surprise.
“Rookie!” she called into the superheated mist.
“End of the line, Steel Dragon,” Keith said, and she found that he was right. Her hand reached the end of the tunnel. It was time to leave the guiding brick wall and move out into the steam.
“Here we go, Wonderkid,” she said over her shoulder and stepped forward.
It was a supremely disorienting experience. Although Drew and Keith talked loudly to maintain audio contact, it was easy to lose a sense of where she was. By the time she touched the opposite side of the hallway, she was drenched in sweat and practically hoped Shadowstorm would attack her there and then.
But, of course, he didn’t. He understood human emotions better than people did—after all, he’d exploited them for centuries. That knowledge was a tremendous advantage as he undoubtedly knew that her fear, anxiety, and exhaustion would be the first blow against her. Although, as she moved through the steam and her lungs began to burn and her breath turned ragged, she began to wonder if he really did want a fight. Boiling her alive under the city seemed like it might do the job for him.
She tried not to lose herself to these thoughts, but it was a struggle. If any of her team passed out, she wouldn’t even be able to find them in the steam. The horrifying thought seemed to echo in her mind.
But ultimately, the fear was needless. She made it through to where Drew and Keith waited for her. Footsteps from behind her told her when Jim emerged. All of them were sweating, red-faced, and exhausted but alive.
“I don’t think we’ll make it through much more of this.” The Rookie tried to catch his breath.
“I have a feeling we won’t need to go much farther.” Kristen could feel Shadowstorm. He was close—so close—and unbelievably angry. She somehow knew that he could sense Keith, Drew, and Jim in a way that she could not. Their survival did not please the callous dragon.
“All right, let’s go.” Jim nodded toward the stairway.
“Hold up.” Drew touched the pipes that ran through the tunnels. She hadn’t realized there was more to this subterranean warren than only the steam pipes. Electricity was present, cable, and even fiber optics by the look of it. He passed over each in turn before he settled on a larger pipe than the others. “You guys know I love this city, right?” He touched the selected duct tentatively with a finger.
“Not as much as Kristen and I do, but yeah, sure.” Jim raised an eyebrow. “Why, what do you plan to do?”
“Take water away from way too many people.” Drew stepped back from the pipe, raised his rifle, and fired three times. The first bullet didn’t break it, nor the second, but the third cracked it and water began to spray on the wall beside them.
“All right. You’re all hot and you stink. Hit the showers.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. As she passed through the cold spray of water, she turned her skin off briefly so she could better appreciate the refreshingly cool and—best of all—clean, water.
The team all did the same and looks of relief settled on their faces.
All except Drew. He didn’t look proud of what he’d done.
“It’s gonna be all right, big guy.” Keith patted him on the shoulder.
“I know. Its only…it’s a school night.”
Jim chuckled—more of that laughing in the face of death. “It’s damn near one in the morning. Any kids still up to take a shower probably won’t go to school tomorrow.”
The team leader actually smiled at that—a rare sight to see—and nodded. “Let’s do this damn thing. Are you ready, Steel Dragon?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said and tried to sound like she meant it.
They descended the stairs to a landing, reversed direction, and continued.
When they finally emerged in a tunnel, it soon opened into some kind of underground station. Kristen had no idea what the room was for. Perhaps it had once been used for trains or perhaps this was where the construction equipment that must have dug these tunnels had been housed whil
e the workers slept.
Either way, it was a large, cavernous room, close to the size of a basketball court. Compared to the passages they had been in, it seemed practically endless and could easily have accommodated something the size of a rec center. The floor was surfaced with old tiles, some cracked here and there. The walls were brick, although sections had been tiled over long before—lending credence to the abandoned train station theory, even though Detroit didn’t have a subway. The ceiling was raw stone crisscrossed by wires and pipes. Wooden scaffolding lined most of the walls, abandoned decades before. Bare bulbs hung above them but barely illuminated the space. Pillars dotted the room to support the tons and tons of stone and brick they’d passed through.
There was, however, still sufficient light to see Sebastian Shadowstorm standing in the middle of the space. He wore a black gi with a red sash across his waist and his trademark black gloves piped in red. His arms were folded across his enormous frame. In the stark light of the naked bulbs, he seemed to be more shadow than man, his shoulders so large they eclipsed his legs from the light. Only the red of his belt gave any hint that he had the body of a human. His hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and his goatee framed the cruel rictus that defined his face.
“Kristen. You made it,” he said, his voice cold and humorless, so different than the kindly tone he’d used when they’d trained together. Of course, she now understood it wasn’t really training but a dissection of her abilities.
“Sebastian,” she replied and attempted to sound as cold and furious as he did.
The flinch of his scowl told her she had at least partly succeeded.
“We’ve wasted time enough, don’t you think? Come now. It’s time you died.”
Chapter Seventy
Kristen raced toward Sebastian. She couldn’t wait for him to attack. If he struck one of her friends even once, they’d be dead.
He anticipated her attack, of course, and swung a massive right hook into her gut as soon as she entered range. She careened across the room and against a wall of tile that immediately shattered and revealed the raw brick behind it.
Before she could scramble to her feet, he launched his assault. His arms blurred as they struck her ribs repetitively and pummeled her ribcage like it was nothing more than a punching bag. If she were human, she’d be dead.
But she wasn’t a human.
She kicked off the ground and pounded her steel forehead against his skull.
He reeled back, dazed by the blow.
Using the brief moment of advantage, she pushed off the wall and tackled the larger man, who fell heavily. He was obviously unaccustomed to facing a foe who could do such a thing and she was able to batter him a few times before he managed to throw her aside.
His strength was unimaginable. Despite the fact that she was made of steel, he hurled her with ease. She twisted in midair like a cat and came down on her feet hard enough to crack the tile.
“Ah, Steel Dragon, I miss our little sparring matches. I forget what it’s like to fight a foe more massive than myself. A fun little challenge.” He chuckled but the sound cut short when bullets raked his chest.
Drew had fired a couple of rounds.
Shadowstorm cursed but the weapon had done nothing to him. Instead of blood, shadow itself seemed to leak from the wound.
Kristen couldn’t let herself gawk, though. Instead, she bounded forward, vaulted up, and caught him in the chest with her steel knees.
He toppled back but unfortunately, she wasn’t able to stay on top of him this time.
She landed beyond him. In the time it took her to turn, he was able to kick her in the small of the back.
The blow felled her, and she gasped as pain seared along her spine. He really did know how to hurt her despite her skin. She couldn’t believe she’d actually trusted this monster. While she had thought she’d been the one learning, it was him discovering her weaknesses.
When she turned and lashed another kick, Shadowstorm had gone.
He stepped from the shadow of a pillar behind her, his hands clasped together, and struck her across the shoulders.
Her dazed mind reeled at what she thought she’d seen as she sprawled and struggled to stand. It looked like he had moved from shadow to shadow…but that was impossible, right?
“What are you?” She finally managed to push herself to her feet.
“You insolent little bitch, I am your better.”
Bullets caught him in the shoulders and he roared and turned.
Jim had obviously been the marksman and he simply ran off, sticking to the perimeter of the room, and grinned like a child who’d stolen a slice of pie before Thanksgiving dinner.
Kristen noticed that again, blood didn’t issue from his wounds but some kind of black smoke. It looked like blood did under water, only jet-black.
Though it wasn’t blood, she still karate-chopped the injury with every ounce of her strength behind it.
Shadowstorm roared in pain and stumbled forward. The blow hadn’t knocked him over but it had hurt. That might be better.
Unfortunately, when he turned to her, she could see the wounds from the first bullets had already healed. She often forgot about dragons’ legendary healing abilities. So much of her own powers were spent avoiding any injury at all. This was possibly the worst way to be reminded that she wasn’t the only dragon who could shrug bullets off.
But not all bullets…
Her thoughts immediately turned to the bullet in her pocket. She couldn’t fire it, but maybe she could still use it as a weapon.
Thinking in the middle of the battle cost her dearly. Her adversary vanished into another shadow and reappeared beside her friends.
“Keith!” she shrieked as the dragon picked the Rookie up like he was nothing more than a soccer ball.
Images of him ripping her teammate in half flashed before her eyes but apparently, humans were below even this level of notice. Rather than tear him limb from limb, he hurled him at her.
Kristen caught him—she had to, or he’d snap his neck—but when she did, Shadowstorm raced forward and slammed his fist into her gut.
She doubled over in pain but as she did so, she fumbled in her pocket and retrieved the cracked dragon-scale bullet. She could use this. If she could only wear him down a little more she could—
A massive uppercut connected with her chin. The dragon struck her with such force that she rocketed into the ceiling. She plummeted amidst a rain of stone and prepared for a hard landing.
But while the rocks struck the floor, she didn’t have the opportunity. As she approached, her opponent kicked to arc her across the room once more.
She impacted hard with the tiles and sensed that this was it—he would move in to finish her now—when gunshots erupted in a concerted barrage that echoed almost painfully loud in the underground chamber.
Shadowstorm roared.
Drew, Jim, and Keith had managed to triangulate him. Despite the Rookie’s burned hand, he managed to fire as well. The dragon seemed momentarily distracted as if he didn’t know what to do about the onslaught of projectiles.
He whirled constantly in an attempt to target his attacker, but each time he faced one of the three men, they moved and left the other two to fire. Soon, he was draped in a cloud of his shadow blood.
This was Kristen’s moment—her single opportunity—and she grasped the bullet in her hand with the point protruding through her steel knuckles. She’d punch him in the temple or the chest, whichever was open, and hope that he felt the same burning she had from the terrible weapon.
There was no time to think it through. She raced toward the cloud of blood and toward Shadowstorm’s screams of pain. Her fist raised, she leapt high and let gravity add even more momentum to her finishing blow.
A dragon’s tail lashed out from the cloud and struck her across the chest. She pounded into the tiled floor and rolled.
He began to laugh. She could hear him clearly as her friends had evidently run out o
f ammunition and had to reload.
“A cute battle, certainly, but enough is enough,” he roared from the cloud of shadow-blood.
She slid her hands under her and pushed herself to her feet. When she looked at her adversary, he wasn’t shrouded in a cloud of blood but the energy he put out when he transformed.
The light seemed to leach from the room as the form in the center grew larger and larger. A nightmarish cloud of teeth and claws, lightning and storm clouds, spawned the dragon that stood amongst them a moment later, deep under the heart of the Motor City.
Her heart sank when she realized that she’d dropped the bullet. She looked around frantically while her mind reminded her that the tiny point of dragon claw was her only chance against this beast.
“Are you looking for an exit, Kristen?” Shadowstorm rumbled, his tone amused.
“More like an end to this battle.” She located the bullet. It was her only hope now that she was trapped facing this monstrosity. She shifted closer to where it had rolled against a pillar and was lodged between a tile and the ground.
“There is but one end, you worm. If you hold still and surrender yourself, I can give it to you more quickly.”
Shadowstorm—in the largest dragon body she had ever seen—attacked.
Chapter Seventy-One
He struck Kristen with the force of an eighteen-wheeler. The space wasn’t large—not by dragon body standards—but there was still enough for him to pump his wings once and propel himself into her. She catapulted wildly into some scaffolding. Instead of the heaviness of steel, she seemed to weigh what a pebble would compared to the monster she now faced.
She pushed herself out of the equipment but more of it collapsed around her as she tried to untangle herself. Shadowstorm caught her in one of his claws and plucked her from the tangle of broken wood like a farmer would pluck an apple from an orchard.
“I like your steel body, Kristen,” he taunted and squeezed her in his fist. He flexed his aura and tried to make her feel terror in every fiber of her being. Obviously, he thought her less than dragon if he believed that would work. “It has more heft to it.” He hurled her across the station again. Her momentum carried her through a pillar and she struck a second with her shoulder, stopped, and fell.
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