by Aaron Crash
“Say the Texas machine-gun twins,” Steven quipped. “Saw your email address. Funny.”
“Not so funny. We told you we like guns. The real kind. One N.”
“So you don’t know about Republic of Texas tattoos. Okay.” Steven then asked, “What about the Sounder? The me is the we. Does that ring any bells?”
Chazzie felt nauseous. Of course, that might make sense. “Yeah, we know about the Sounder. It’s a whole mess of Morphlings, more like a cult than anything else. Juice Juice runs the whole show.”
“Wait, the fucking guy’s name is Juice Juice?” Steven let out a sigh of disbelief.
“Not really a guy. More like a power-hungry murderous pig. We’ve kept tabs on Juice. He’s taken little jobs before from Primes, but it sounds like he’s entered the game in a big way. Wow.” Chazzie thought of something. “So my sister and I went to a big secret thing with Morty back in Chicago, with our Prime. Morty is super pissed someone tried to take you out during the Conclave. That might mean the Great Lakes Prime is off our suspect list. Javier Jones wasn’t there, though. Word has it, he’s in Texas on super-secret business. Could be he’s out here hiring muscle, stamping them with old-school tattoos, and then sending them after you. Since they came from Texas, you might think Carlo Bart is the problem.”
Steven put it together. “If I took out Carlo Bart, then Javier Jones might come after me. If he killed us both, he’d double his existing territory. Regardless, he doesn’t have Carlo Bart to mess with anymore.”
“Sounds possible.” Chazzie didn’t like it, though. Her daddy had shaved with a silver razor. On it was stamped Occam. He said he’d had it made to remind him the simplest solution was almost always the right one. The minute you started making shit up in your head, you were going off the rails into what you wanted to believe rather than reality. That kind of shit got you killed or ass-fucked.
“How about we go talk with Juice, and you have a sit-down with Javier. We have his number, and we could give it to you. Better yet, we know where he is in Corpus Christi—well, relatively. You could bump into him and chat.”
Steven hit her immediately with a, “No, I don’t have plans to go anywhere on your recommendation.”
“You’re right, Steven. We haven’t proven ourselves yet. But you have to understand, we are going to be as careful as you are. If Carlo Bart hears of us trying to align ourselves with you, he’ll cut us into chum.”
“On your boat. I can hear the water,” Steven said. “My big takeaway from this? If I have any hope to take out Carlo Bart, I’ll have to get him alone. He has quite the army in his pocket.”
“Good luck with that,” Chazzie said.
“I have to go. But thanks for the information on Javier Jones and Juice Juice.” Steven hung up.
Pru rose, changed into her partial form, and grabbed her double-barrel shotgun. Cracking it open, she slid in two shells. Chazzie was getting cold, so she stripped off her bikini, went Homo Draconis, and put a claw on the skeet shooter.
“Pull,” Pru said.
The thrower flung clay targets out over the ocean. They shimmered in the moonlight for a second, until Pru shot them both. Her gun smoked.
“Most likely, Carlo Bart is onto us,” Pru said. “He hired Juice’s Sounders and sent them after our boy Steven without telling us.”
“Yeah, and another thing he didn’t tell us? He sent that hit squad in Chicago, and it was Connie Kant, Maria Diablo, and Wyatt. Steven took out Connie, that’s why she’s dropped out of sight. Bing. Bang. Boom.”
“And the Republic of Texas tattoos?” Chazzie asked. “Why, I betcha those are to stop people from scrying them. Steven and his Escort have something similar without a doubt.”
“Okay,” Pru said. “We have our hypothesis. Now, how are we going to prove it?”
“Find out who hired Juice,” Chazzie said simply. “If it’s Carlo Bart, we’re in trouble. If it’s Javier, we help Steven end him, and then set up Carlo Bart for the same fate. If we turned over four Primacies to Steven? Well, he’d have to take us seriously, if not take us on.”
Chazzie sighed and blew flames from her pink, scaly nostrils. “And just when I think the game’s getting boring, it gets a tad too exciting.”
“Better dead than satisfied,” Pru said. That was another piece of scripture from Bob Wayne. She tossed her gun to her sister.
Chazzie caught it, and they changed places. Chazzie had to smile. Holding a gun soothed her, and they weren’t dead yet.
“Steven was right,” Pru said, thinking out loud. “If we separated Carlo Bart from his army, Steven could take him out. But we’d have to get CB far away. He has troops all over this great state.” She tapped her talons against her snout. “You know, our other choice is to get Steven alone and let his enemies remove him from our equations. If Steven were gone, we could then focus on knocking off Javier. We wind up with the same territory. And Carlo Bart has been easy enough to manipulate.”
“Maybe,” Chazzie said. But then she thought of their brief time in the elevator with the Drokharis scion. He’d been handsome, confident, but not an asshole. What would it be like to be married to someone she could respect? The thought scared her. It meant surrendering up parts of herself she’d kept hidden away. After a lifetime of conniving and scheming, most of her was strong. But what was still weak was downright fragile.
Chazzie let out a breath and more flames. “Bottom line, we have to see where we stand with our Prime before we start betraying anyone else.” She raised the rifle and shouted, “Pull!”
Two more clay targets went spinning off into the night.
Chazzie shot them both. “I hate that goddamn Juice Juice and his creepy cult.”
“Me too,” Pru affirmed. “But sometimes wanting it all and wanting it now ain’t too pretty.”
“Amen to that, sister. Amen to that.”
FIFTEEN
Steven and his Escort made it to Raton, New Mexico, and the Heart’s Desire Inn.
While the rest of his Escort slept in their rooms, Steven and Mouse were with Sabina outside, behind the bed-and-breakfast. The Dragonskin rituals were far from pleasant.
In the frosty night, Steven held Sabina to him. He, the Latina Magician, and Mouse were huddled under a cottonwood in the backyard next to the back garage and the alley. The old Victorian rose up above them, silent and still under the starry sky. All the other houses in the small New Mexican town were dark as well. The low scrubby mountains around the little village were lost to the night.
Steven sat as a Homo Draconis cradling Sabina’s naked form. Mouse knelt in front of them as a human dressed in boots, jeans, a blouse, and a coat.
He breathed fire onto the metal brand Mouse held out to him. Once it was red hot, the blonde pushed it into Sabina’s gaunt belly. The Latina Magician twisted under the fire, keeping silent even as tears dripped from her cheeks and onto her chest. The burn would continue to ache after Mouse removed the brand, and that pain would help her channel the Animus back into her body. It was only through such suffering that she could become a Dragonskin.
Mouse dripped Elftears from a vial that glowed blue. Then she murmured the Magica Cura spell. The magic would repair the tissue and ease the pain slightly, but the pain would linger.
“What are Elftears?” Steven asked in a hushed growl. His voice box was a lot bigger when he was in his Homo Draconis state.
“Not sure,” Mouse said. “They help in the healing process, definitely, but I think their effects are more about the Animus involved. She is literally changing who she is, and that takes powerful magic. I’ve heard stories about some Dragonsouls injecting Elftears for a nice little trip to la-la land. For me? Jim Beam worked just fine.”
Liam Strider had given them the vial of strange liquid. Steven didn’t know where he’d gotten his supply. The name, though, was strange. They lapsed into silence.
“I don’t think I can keep doing this,” Sabina whispered. “It hurts, Steven. Every day, it hurts, and I
’m so hungry. I’m so done with these pinche rituals.”
“I have to leave now,” Mouse said. “If I stay, I will not say the right thing. I know myself. Good night, Steven. And we love you, Sabina, but… you don’t have to do this. No, I take that back. See? I want to be supportive. So it’s off to bed I go.”
Mouse eased herself through the back door of the old Victorian, going quietly so she didn’t wake up the woman who ran the B&B or anyone else. It was a nice place, lots of interesting knickknacks, decorated for Christmas, with a big pine tree in the living room. The breakfasts were supposed to be epic. They had the entire place for their group, something Sabina had booked months before. She said she hadn’t known why but was following her strange visions. When you used divination magic to overcome your blindness, the results could be confusing as past, present, and future collided.
After they’d pulled in and gotten their rooms, Aria was polite, but Steven knew she’d rather have been in the Best Western. She said the beds were a bit too big for the rooms and the decorations very American, comfortable flirting with gaudy.
Steven found the B&B a nice change of pace. All the high-end hotels were all about the same and ran together in his mind.
Sabina sighed. He watched as she took a fresh grip on her self-control. “No, I will get over this. I will not give up. I won’t. I was dead. I’m alive. And I must remember that part of being alive is hurting. This is reminding me I’m alive.”
“We’re here for you.” Steven kept his growls low.
“Si, I know. And I feel that, even from Mouse, who hates what I’m doing. And Aria, who thinks I’m not worthy. But I have to do it. I have to serve you.” Sabina shivered.
Steven covered her chest with his big claws. His scales would give her extra heat.
“You don’t have to be a Dragonskin to serve me,” he said. “You know we appreciate your magic. And there’s Regina to think about.”
That made Sabina smile. “Si, our daughter. Will you marry me, Steven? When I am finished with the rituals, when I can achieve True Form, will you put the ring on my finger, give me a child, and love me forever?”
He bent and nuzzled her with his big scaled head. “I will do that with or without the ring or rituals. But if that is how you want it, I will do it.”
She grabbed his massive arm and hugged it to her.
Steven thought switching the conversation might get her mind off the pain for a minute. And he had a question. “What is the difference between a Dragonskin and Morphling? Both can shapeshift, right?”
“Magicians, Morphlings, and Warlings are all humans who have some Dragonsoul blood in them. For example, I can access the Animus inside me to cast spells. Zoey can shapeshift. A Warling has access to the Pugna abilities: DarkArmor, DragonStrength, and the others. But to really get the benefits of a Dragonsoul, a human has to go through the rituals of changing themselves mentally, physically, spiritually.”
Steven thought about other Morphlings he’d fought. “Karlos Butcher was able to become a giant eagle and a snake, but he preferred being a boar. However, he could’ve turned into a dragon, right?”
“Yes and no,” Sabina said. “When you shift into your True Form, there is magic that helps you function. As a Dragonsoul, you defy physics, all that weight and muscle and solid bones.”
“And a Morphling wouldn’t be able to fly.” Steven got it. “I keep thinking of Zoey as a werebear, but she can turn into other animals, can’t she?”
“Depends on how well she can use her Animus. Most Morphlings prefer a specific form. It’s like becoming proficient with a battle-ax. You can be very good at the ax but fail with the sword. For Morphlings, it’s like that.” Sabina caressed his scales. “I’m tired, Steven. This is hard, but I have to do it. I have to.”
She cast a divination spell to see, retrieved her robe, and gave him a long hug. She retreated inside, leaving Steven alone for a minute.
A big grizzly bear rambled out of the alley. She stopped and gave Steven a long look. It wasn’t bright enough to see her eyes, but Steven knew it was Zoey.
She came up, sniffing him, rubbing her big body against his. Steven shifted into a human, pulled on his clothes, and petted her rough fur. He scratched her chin, then took two big handfuls of fur in his hands. She kept bumping into him, making happy noises in the back of her throat, growling some, and then rolling him over. She licked his face with a tongue like sandpaper.
Even though she was in full bear mode, she still smelled slightly sweet, like Zoey in her human form. Yes, there was a definite musk there, but he liked it.
He managed to get to his knees and hug her to him. “If anyone is watching, they’ll think I’m insane, wrestling with a big bear.”
Zoey pulled back. Those eyes bore into him.
“Did you need some bear time?” he asked.
She nodded. And those eyes turned sad.
“I got some more information on the Sounder. And I heard about Juice Juice. You were running with them, weren’t you?”
Another nod. She made whining sounds in the back of her throat. Zoey got in front of him and collapsed in a heap on the ground.
Steven stroked her back. “After your parents died, you didn’t have a Prime to serve. And this Juice guy found you. It was probably okay for a bit, but then they started doing things you didn’t want to do. But you’d rather stay with the Sounders than be on your own.”
Zoey didn’t shift human, and she didn’t growl. He’d guessed right. He continued to talk, trying to piece together what her life had been like before she’d been abandoned in the chamber. “So what you said before, ‘the me is the we,’ that was their motto. You were supposed to forget about yourself, and maybe you did sometimes, but in the end, it wasn’t the life you wanted.”
Zoey shifted human. Her fur turned into skin, and she grew smaller until she was a naked woman, holding her knees, on the dry brown grass. Steven took off his coat and draped it over her.
Zoey straightened, still on her knees, and Steven held her to him. Both were kneeling when they came together. Steven held her, feeling the muscles of her back. They had some privacy, and it was late, past midnight, so Steven wasn’t too concerned about being caught.
“Juice took me in,” she murmured. “I was so alone. Everything you said was right. Everything. I heard about you months ago, and how you were powerful and wanted to change things. I loved hearing stories about you… how black your hair was, how strong you were, soaring through the clouds, how nothing could hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anymore, Steven. I don’t want to be scared anymore. I don’t want to lose anyone anymore. I want you to own me.”
Steven thought about his conversation with Tessa in the kitchen back at the Infinity Ranch. The idea of being “owned” was about being safe and protected. It was the idea of permanence in an uncertain word. It was belonging. And in this case, it was love.
“I’ll protect you, Zoey,” Steven said. “I’ll do my best. But I want you to own yourself in the end. I want you to have the strength and confidence to stand tall, alone, no matter what happens to me.”
Zoey stiffened in his arms for a moment. “Alone. That’s a hard word for me. I know the humans like to think being alone is okay, but being part of the pack, the Sounders, was nice for me for a long time. Even before the Sounders, we served the Prime, our master. To stand tall and confident alone? I don’t think I can. Or maybe I don’t want to.”
Steven wondered if he shouldn’t have said anything. “We don’t have to worry about that tonight.”
“I don’t want to worry about that ever.” Zoey kissed him, making it clear she wanted him again.
They hurried from the backyard, up the steps, and into their bedroom upstairs.
She lay back on the bed, legs spread, lips spread, her pearl ready for his mouth. Thick golden-brown pubic hair formed a luscious triangle between her legs. He brought her to bliss before he got on top of her. He grabbed her arms and pulled them over her head. She liked to
be held down. When she was pinned, he sucked on her big nipples. She was big enough and tall enough he could reach them easily. So big, so hot, she smelled so good.
And she was strong. He could feel the hard ridges of her muscles through her skin.
Before long, the headboard banged against the wall, and a shelf of knickknacks went tumbling down. Steven almost lost himself to an orgasm, but he stopped in time.
Zoey giggled, tightening herself around his length trapped in her wetness. “We have to be a little quieter. And I hope we didn’t break anything.”
Their door opened, and Tessa came creeping in. “Uh, what are you guys doing?”
Zoey blushed a bit.
“I think the kids are calling it recharging nowadays,” Steven said.
He gazed into Zoey’s blue-green eyes. “Are you okay if Tessa joins us?”
“I love Tessa! Sure. And I’m that way.”
Tessa came over, stripped off her T-shirt, and shucked off her panties. “What way is that?”
“I like boys. And I like girls,” Zoey said. “I just like to be touched and kissed and made love to. Will you kiss me, Tessa?”
“I’m that way too.” Tessa got on the bed. She gave Zoey a passionate kiss, touched her breasts, and traced her fingers down Zoey’s hard abdominal muscles.
Then she kissed Steven. When Steven went back to fucking Zoey hard, Tessa held her, held the headboard away from the wall, and held Steven when he finally went over the edge. Animus swirled around them.
They fell asleep together, but the bed was just too small for the three of them. Steven finally slipped away a few hours later, with dawn in the sky. He crawled into bed with Sabina. He tried not to wake her, but that didn’t happen. She circled a hand around his length and worked him until he was hard. And then it was sex with Sabina.
He made a mental list. First sleep, then breakfast, then Aria, and then Mouse. They all needed to maintain their Animus levels.
According to Sabina, that night would be the last peaceful one they’d have for quite a while.
