The dragon wasn’t a humanoid version of some animal like Demetrius’s wasp-man form, or Zuha’s snow leopard-woman shape, it wasn’t even like his own fantastical new form, which while draconic, still bore a decisively humanoid element. The two-headed dragon towering over them all from the burning mansion of House Vespa was just that—and it should not have existed.
The body was easily the size of an African elephant, if not two, and the enormous bat-like wings fanning from its shoulder blades only made it seem bigger—maybe the size of a small house. The entire body was covered in glossy, sharp scales that seemed deepest black until the light touched them, then shone with red highlights. The talons of the forelegs gripping the edge of the mansion were each as long as Zuha’s scimitar and the tail thrashing behind it was easily the length of a school bus. Both of its heads rose up on serpentine necks, maws bristling with fangs, eyes glowing crimson.
“Styx!” Demeter screamed up at the dragon. “You’re dead! House Draco is dead!”
Maxwell stepped forward, ignoring the screaming, bleeding people around him to look calmly up at the dragon. Or at least calmer than anyone else in the yard. Wilburn noticed that his hands, which he’d hidden behind his back, were shaking.
“House Lyra offers its condolences for your loss, Styx,” he called up, raising his voice for the first time since Wilburn had arrived.
The dragon snorted, flames and sparks shooting from the nostrils of both heads. “Save your condolences, Sonnet. House Draco more than earned its fate.”
Maxwell took a step back, and when he spoke, his voice trembled. “Y-you? You murdered your own House?”
“Our House is reborn!” the dragon, Styx, bellowed in both of its voices. “You have insulted, belittled, and dishonorably attacked our new psion.”
Demeter’s wailing rose at this point. “You’re mad! You’re mad!”
Both of the dragon’s heads swiveled to take in the Ingrams. They stiffened, then fell over, stiff as boards. “House Draco charges House Lyra to bear witness to the fraudulent activities borne of House Vespa.”
Maxwell rose up, as if he were a soldier about to receive a medal in front of a cheering crowd instead of standing amidst burning wreckage. “House Lyra will bare witness and spread the word of House Vespa’s treachery.”
“T-traitor,” Lemuel snarled through clenched teeth on the ground.
Maxwell’s lip curled as he glared down at him. “The psion of House Draco acquitted himself honorably. You, on the other hand, tried multiple times to violate the sanctity of this duel. What befalls your House now, you have more than earned.”
As they spoke, Wilburn slowly rose to his feet. He was bleeding from multiple injuries. Several of his blue scales had been ripped clear off, exposing bloody flesh underneath. It was hard to gauge just how badly hurt he was though. He was so much bigger than before and he had nothing to compare his current state with. If any of those machine guns had shot him while he’d been in his human form he would have been torn in half. His bellua form was clearly made of stronger stuff.
The others rose back up and, looking them over quickly, nobody seemed seriously injured. The woman, Athena, was very carefully not looking at him, but had taken up point beside them, her gun at the ready. Hadn’t Demetrius said she was a stripper? Even with her slutty clothing she looked more dangerous then than just about anyone else on the field.
He realized he was staring and looked away, to find that his entire party was gaping at him, Stacy worst of all.
He grinned, baring a maw of fangs. “Hey everyone.”
“W-Wilburn?” Stacy asked, the tone and attitude she adopted when she played videogames completely gone. “Is that you?”
“Hey, Stacy,” he replied, and his voice rumbled with power and authority. He liked the way he sounded now.
Stacy froze for a moment, then burst free of the others and threw herself into him, wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her face in his stomach, shaking with dry sobs. “Y-you’ve got a l-lot of explaining to do,” she said into his belly.
Zuha rushed to meet them then, Demetrius’s unconscious form, still insectile, slung over her shoulder. The blonde rushed to her side, followed by the Korean girl, but Zuha bared her fangs and brought them up short.
“You’ll want to take him with you,” she said to Wilburn. “You claimed him. He’s yours.”
Wilburn didn’t want him. He’d claimed Demetrius because he didn’t know anything else he could have done to him and in the heat of the moment that had seemed the thing to do. Now though, he had no idea what he was going to do with him. Throwing him off a cliff struck him as a good idea though.
He suppressed that urge. Plenty of time to figure out what to do with everyone once they got out of there alive. If they got out of there alive. The dragon seemed to be on their side but he wasn’t about to bet everyone’s life on it.
An armored car is waiting for you at the front. You should go now.
Wilburn jumped, then stared up at the dragon. The voices, the pair he only ever heard in his mind palace, had just spoken in his head. And he was pretty sure that they’d come from Styx.
It’s rude to stare at us, Burngrave, the voices said in his head, and one of the dragon’s heads winked at him.
The voices…even that little playful tone. Styx, the two-headed dragon, was his House Lord and the primus who had extolled him. It was her voices that were in his head, helping him construct his mind palace. Promising that they only wanted what was best for him. He took a deep breath and nodded. There wasn’t much point in doing anything else. Either he trusted Styx or he didn’t and whether he did or did not, the dragon could probably kill him by sneezing.
That solved that for Wilburn. Crouching down, he wrapped his free arm around Stacy’s thighs and picked her up, ordering everyone else to start moving. He took the rear, just in case some of House Vespa’s men decided to resume hostilities while Zuha hurried to take point, Buddy and Bernard guarding their flanks as they moved, grabbing weaponry from fallen Vespa men as they passed.
Athena stayed by Wilburn’s side, and as before when they’d met on campus, something about her drew him to her. A light in her mind and chest. He coveted it a little, but more than that, a part of him wanted to stoke it, understanding that it was like a spark eager to become a fire if only it were given the right fuel. She glanced at him, and once again, for the briefest of seconds, something warm peaked through those cold eyes. Then she was focused again, a killing machine in a micro-miniskirt.
No one stopped them as they wound their way around the roadway created between the two walls surrounding the manor and to the exit proper, where the second strangest thing Wilburn had seen that day waited for them.
“Is that a tank?” Siobhan asked, staring at the vehicle ahead of them.
The vehicle in question resembled a tall green box of heavy metal with a v-shaped front that gave it a vaguely whale-like appearance. It sat on eight tall wheels, had a flat top and fencing of all things placed around the exterior, presumably so that people could walk around on top while it was moving, and a big ass gun on the back. A glass square seemed to have been wedged into the front to serve as the part where the driver sat.
“That’s an M1253 Stryker,” said Athena. The group collectively turned to stare at her.
She shrugged.
A hatch at the rear of the vehicle opened up and a voice called out from inside. “She’s beautiful alright, but you want to stare at her all day or you want to get the hell out of here?”
Buddy and Bernard took up positions near the hatchway as if expecting an attack to come at any moment while the girls hurried on inside, carrying the unconscious Demetrius and helping Stacy down from his arms. Soon, only the two males, Zuha, and Athena remained at his side.
“You’re going to need to turn back or it’s going to be a tight fit,” Zuha said as she resumed her own human form, saving them several inches of space.
&nb
sp; Wilburn nodded and tried to shapeshift back…absolutely nothing happened. He furrowed his brow and concentrated. Still nothing. He looked down at himself, sure that maybe he was missing something, that maybe he was transforming and not realizing it. He wasn’t.
He was at least seven, maybe eight feet tall with a tail at least that long and a wingspan easily double that. Very, very not human.
His stomach sinking, he said, “I’m stuck.”
She gave a nod and a sympathetic smile. “This happens to a lot of people the first time they use this ability. It’s okay, you’ll just need a little psychic lubrication.”
He blinked down at her. “And how do I get that?”
The look she gave him should have been illegal in every state and US territory. “Sex, of course.”
Both of the men with them coughed. Athena blushed. So did Wilburn.
“Uh, not the time or the place, I think,” he said, sidestepping the whole ‘he was a dragon’ issue.
Zuha laughed. “We’re all going to have to really squeeze in there.”
They managed, barely, by having Wilburn lay on the floor with his wings, legs and tail curled up and everyone else resting their feet on top of him. By the time they were all situated, Wilburn’s head was pressed into the cockpit and whatever feelings of badassery and triumph he’d been experiencing before were well and thoroughly put out.
The driver beamed down at him from her chair and Wilburn did a double take. She was tiny, smaller even than Stacy. African American with bright pink hair like cotton candy and three stars tattooed on her cheek. “Feeling good down there, Boss?”
“I’ve been better,” Wilburn rumbled, and she laughed.
“I’ll bet! My name’s Shine and I’ll be your getaway driver this afternoon. Let’s get out of here before the murdering starts!”
Wilburn scowled, a memory tickling at the back of his mind as the Stryker rumbled to life and pulled away from the burning house. Pink hair…He did a double take. “You kidnapped me!”
The driver beamed at him. “And now I’m your getaway driver. Funny how things work out.”
He couldn’t talk. It was as if his mouth had forgotten how to make words. He managed a “Y-y-you—”
Only to be cut off a second later. “I’m happy you remember me. It’s Burngrave now, isn’t it? Good to finally meet you and have it matter.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“Who are you and what is going on?” he demanded, sounding much more impressive now that he’d kicked his stutter.
“You probably know more than me at this point,” Shine said. “I just do what the boss ladies say. They say pick you up, I pick you up. They say drop you off, I drop you off. I’m taking you to a private airfield now. Your girl, Frostbite’s, got a private plane waiting to pick you up, courtesy of House Leo.”
Wilburn scowled. “I thought House Leo didn’t like her.”
“Houses are complicated messes. Families, politics, and business all rolled up into one. I don’t know what they’re up to now, but I think you may have an ally there. Don’t quote me on that,” Shine said, and suddenly looked nervous. “The Boss Ladies wouldn’t care for it if they thought I was swaying your opinion.”
“You’re her, their, famulus?” he asked.
She nodded. “But I know even less about their plans than you do, so don’t ask. Couldn’t tell you even if I did.”
Wilburn was left cramped and uncomfortably contemplative as they drove. This morning had given him a lot to think about.
Chapter Eighteen
It turned out that House Leo was, or had members who were, part of an elite club with a private airfield and Demetrius had his own private jet. No customs, no hassle, just hop in and go. Nobody even batted an eye at the eight-wheeled-gun-toting vehicle or the towering dragon-man who stepped out of it after a bevvy of beautiful women. Shine stayed with the Stryker and hauled off as soon as they were all out. Where she’d come from and where she was going, none of them had been able to get her to say.
A plane was already waiting for them. Apparently it had been waiting for them since dropping Zuha off last night. Wilburn tossed Demetrius’s unconscious body on the plane’s floor to recover and let the pilots do their thing. The girls all got themselves situated, leaving him once again, stuck. None of the chairs were big enough for him and even if they had been they had no way to accommodate his tail or wings.
Sensing his budding distress, Zuha took him by the hand and guided him to the rear of the plane, where she pushed open a door to reveal a bedroom, complete with a flat screen TV and a king-sized bed. Only after he’d ducked inside and made to close the door behind him did Wilburn realize that Athena had been sticking to his side the entire time. She followed him in and stood off to the side, standing at attention like a soldier, eyes fixed on the closed door as if guarding them.
Zuha gave her a cursory once over, then climbed up to stand on the bed so that she was of a height with Wilburn and pulled his draconic face to hers for a kiss.
When she pulled back, she was beaming at him. “I am so proud of you. That was amazing. I wasn’t there to help you and you handled everything perfectly! You even took the psion of House Vespa! Do you have any idea what this means? How powerful you are?” She shook her head, not waiting for him to answer. “And I can count the number of days you’ve been a primus on one hand. You even bound some famulus on your own.” She pulled him back into her and kissed him again.
When she pulled back, it was with a sultry expression on her face. “Now, let’s see if I can’t reward my master and help you change back.”
Wilburn wanted to—oh God he wanted to—but… “What if it doesn’t work?”
Zuha shook her head. “You won’t be stuck like me. You’re far too powerful.”
“If I’m so strong, then why am I stuck now?” he asked.
“It’s like you’re using a whole new muscle,” Zuha said, caressing his face. “You’ve used it for the very first time and got a cramp. That’s all.”
They started to resume their kiss, her hand caressing his broad shoulder, when the fingers found a spot where a scale had been torn free and he winced, breaking away.
“Sorry,” she said. “You o/kay?”
“Yeah,” he said, then remembered that they weren’t alone in the room. He glanced over at Athena. Her expression hadn’t changed, but she seemed to since him looking at her. She met his eyes and said, “I don’t know if there’s a first aid kit or not, but I can treat those hurts if you’d like.”
“No need,” Zuha said. “Once we charge up your batteries and let you rest, you’ll change back and the worse of those injuries will be gone. You’ll be down to bruises and a few cuts at most.”
Wilburn nodded. “That’s reassuring.”
But he didn’t start kissing her again. A threesome was one thing, doing it while somebody stood by and watched? He wasn’t sure he was up for that.
Zuha seemed to sense his discomfort and grinned past him at Athena. “You. Come here.”
Athena looked to him first and only at his nod did she obey, coming to stand before Zuha, who towered over her from her position on the bed. “Why are you here right now?”
Athena scowled. “I want to make sure Burngrave is okay.”
“The last few days have been confusing for you, haven’t they?” Wilburn asked, a little taken aback by her use of his primus name but not altogether displeased.
Athena shrugged. “Not a lot has made sense.” She glanced up at him, cheeks flushing. “Not even you throwing yourself between me and those Browning M2HBs.”
When they both just stared at her she said, “The giant mounted machine guns.”
Wilburn gave an uneasy chuckle. “Yeah. I kind of thought we were all going to die there when those were aimed at us.”
Zuha smacked him on the shoulder. It would have been harmless except that she hit a part where his scale had been shot off.
> “Ouch!”
“You didn’t know you could survive that?” she demanded.
“Who looks at a bunch of machine guns and goes, oh yeah, Bro, I can take that?”
She struck him again. “You are not allowed to get yourself killed! No dying!” She struck again and he caught her wrist.
He met her eyes. “No dying. It’s a rule. That goes for you too.”
She scowled at him, but the purring that suddenly sounded from her chest ruined the effect. Her face turned scarlet.
Wilburn kissed her. She kissed him back. Their tongues glided over each other, dancing between their mouths. When they broke apart, both were out of breath.
And Athena was staring at them, a small flush creeping into her cheeks.
“Why are you here?” Wilburn asked again, gently this time. “We’re taking off in a few moments. Unless the Houses have missiles, we’ll be safe in the air.”
“I need…I want to take care of you,” she said quietly. “You saved my life. You…cleared my head. It was like being in a fog. Everything and nothing made sense.”
Zuha gave a slow nod. “Demetrius must not have done as good a job binding you as he thought.”
Athena scowled. “I don’t really get that but…I’m bound to you now, aren’t I?” She looked up at Wilburn.
“We are bound,” he said, and that earned a small smile.
Then she was biting her lip and blushing like a school girl.
“What is it?” he asked.
She looked like she didn’t want to answer, but the words came out anyway. “I heard you talking before. About what you need to get un-stuck and change back.” Her face turned even redder. “I want to help. You saved my life. I think you saved my mind. And…” her hand went up to rub at her tattoo. “I really like dragons.”
Zuha gave a bark of laughter, jumped from the bed, and pulled the taller woman into a hug. “Let you in on a secret?” she said in a mock-whisper. “I like dragons too.”
Psychic Awakening: A Dragon Shifter LitRPG Harem Psychic Thriller (Primus Vitae Book 1) Page 12
