Sword of the King

by Megan Derr

  "The villain in his tower," Ken murmured. "What is it with these syndicate people and high places?"

  Blaze grunted as he pulled onto the main road, blithely disregarding traffic laws as he made for the city. Ken hoped Blaze remembered the way, because he definitely did not; when they'd followed Leo to Rafael's cabin the first time, Leo had made it damn near impossible to keep track of the twists and turns. "Ego, obviously. They're high above the pits."

  "Uh huh," Ken said. "So I guess we need some sort of plan past 'kick their asses'. I hope you've got one, cause I sort of suck at the whole planning ahead thing."

  Laughing, Blaze replied, "No shit. But I don't really have much of a plan myself. I know that they're going to have to secure the dragons first, and Erie, Nev, Cam and Conway will be going ballistic. That is, if they're not unconscious, and the last thing you do with a drugged-out dragon is trust that he'll stay that way. Cam, especially, is a wildcard. So they'll be taking them to holding cells, which for St. George means the warehouse district. The pits are located close by so I actually know that area, sort of."

  "Good," Ken said. "So we get the dragons back and then go for Raf and Amr. Sounds like a plan to me."

  Blaze grunted in agreement, and they lapsed into silence. The Challenger sped along the winding roads, until they finally burst out onto a main highway and Blaze kicked the speed up yet another notch. "So what was that shit with Amr?"

  "What shit? The part where he's still alive? Believe me, I'd love to strangle—"

  "No, I mean that thing where you're immune to his weird 'everybody bow before me' powers."

  Ken grimaced. "Oh. That."

  Blaze shot him a quick glare, then put his eyes back on the road. "Yeah, man. That. Why are you immune?"

  "The same reason there's always a small group of people immune to anything, I guess—shit happens. Amr's power is a sort of ... I think psychic resonance is the new, popular term for it. It's not the same way that demons, imps, and other high level paranormals can communicate with thought. That's magic-born. Take away a demon's magic, and no more telepathy for them. But with knights and dragons, it's pure mental prowess. Knights, owners, masters—whatever you want to call them—send out psychic vibes at an extremely low level that says 'fear me'. Royalty, like Amr and Cam, send out even more powerful vibes, as you've obviously witnessed. But there's always a small percentage of the population immune to it, nearly all of them dragon owners of one type or another. We send out the vibes, but we don't receive them as well or at all. They call it 'Lancelot's Blessing', cause Lancelot was the first one to exhibit the immunity back in the good old days of yore."

  "So you and Rafael are both immune? That seems like amazing coincidence."

  "Rafael isn't immune, he's just a top dog himself. Not as top as Amr, but enough to resist. Two stubborn assholes cancel each other out, more or less."

  Blaze said nothing. Ken cast him a curious look, but at the stormy look on his face, decided not to press it.

  "So what did Amr do to me, then?"

  "Activated a block. It's only effective with Amr. Other royals will still have that 'I am special' effect on you."

  Blaze nodded.

  Silence fell again, and Ken was in no hurry to break it. He went back to staring out the window as they sped toward the city, anxiety gnawing at his gut. Was Nev okay? What had the drugs done to him? Ken wanted to throw up, thinking of Nev back in the hands of a syndicate, of possibly being thrown into a pit. They'd keep him drugged, which would make him sick and lesson his effectiveness. He'd be vulnerable as fucking hell.

  Obviously there wasn't time for them to actually start pitting him, but just being locked up again would be enough to send Nev into a panic. Goddamn it, Ken should be there with him. He never should have let Nev be taken at all. Fuck fuck fuck.

  And then there was the ass-kicking he was going to get when Rick showed up with his brothers in tow, and possibly more of the clan as well. Ken wondered if they'd kill him right then and there, or if they'd haul him back to the Cross lands for something of the slow and torturous variety.

  He did not even want to think about Amr. Stupid fucking Amr, who needed to be punched in the face just for being so goddamn aggravating. Ken nearly had a panic attack thinking of what would happen if Leo decided to kill Amr. Not that Ken cared about Amr, but Cam would go ballistic, and the aftermath would be a lot worse than growling and destroying a room and injuring a few people. It would be a bloodbath.

  "We need to get them back," he said. "Fast."

  "Tell me about it," Blaze said. "We're in the city now, and the warehouses we want are ten minutes away. Just be ready for anything."

  Ken nodded, sitting up and keeping an eye on what he could. It was doubtful anyone could pick out Blaze's Challenger in a busy city, but fuck if he was taking chances anymore.

  With traffic and a road fucked up due to construction, it took them closer to twenty minutes to finally reach the warehouses. Blaze parked just outside the gates, and shoved coins into a meter machine.

  "Really?" Ken asked, laughing.

  "You'll thank me when there's no bored cop ticketing us for it when we come out of here with guns and dragons blazing."

  Ken just laughed harder as they walked toward the gates, where no less than six armed guards stood waiting. "Seriously, man? You were doing like fucking ninety on the highway and you're scared of a meter maid?"

  "Never had a speeding ticket in my life, but I've had like six parking tickets, so fuck you," Blaze snapped–right as they reached the guards, drew their weapons, and started firing.

  Three guards were down before the others could react, and the others didn't draw their weapons fast enough. Ken shot the fourth guard, then abandoned his gun when the fifth got too close, settling for using his fists instead.

  By the time number five was dealt with, Blaze had killed number six and was hauling them into the guard post. Ken helped him drag them all inside.

  "We won't have long once they see the guards are missing, even less once they notice they're dead," Ken said with a grimace as he fished out keys and cards, passing half of it over to Blaze. He shook his head as he back away from the bodies. He hated all the killing that happened in such situations. Leaving the guard post, he followed Blaze to the gates and swiped his card. "Where to now?"

  "This way," Blaze said, jerking his head toward the east end of the long strip of warehouses.

  They started walking, guns still drawn as they quickly made their way to wherever the hell Blaze was leading them. It was rather sick and sad that all the gunshots they'd fired had drawn no attention. Sick and sad, but not really surprising.

  Blaze slowed as they reached a set of warehouses marked with red lines across the top, where the rest had not been marked at all. Ken lifted one brow in silent query, but Blaze didn't respond until they ducked behind a building to scope their target for immediate threats. "Those are the holding pens for dangerous dragons—typically the ones that aren't breaking well to the drugs, or to being dragon at all, or those that have lost a master."

  "Ah," Ken said. "Never a dull moment."

  "I blame you," Blaze said. "My life wasn't this aggravating until you showed up."

  Ken grinned and checked both of the guns he'd brought. "I'm going to assume by 'aggravating' you mean 'interesting'. You're welcome." He didn't wait for Blaze's reply, just darted out of cover and headed for the holding pens.

  What he didn't expect to find was absolutely no guards around the building and the door wide open. He spied a couple of cameras, but that was it. "Maybe I'm wrong, but if this place holds all the 'do not touch' dragons, why the fuck is the door open?"

  "I smell blood," Blaze said flatly, and brushed by him to go inside.

  The entire place smelled foul. How the hell Blaze picked out blood from the rank mess, Ken didn't know and didn't want to know. "What the fuck is that smell?"

  "Neglect," Blaze said flatly. He paused in front of the first door; it was made of steel bars with
barely enough space to fit maybe a couple fingers between them. Blaze gestured into the room—cage, really, even if only the door had bars—and Ken stepped close to see.

  What he saw made him want to throw up, made him want to cry. The dragon inside was so thin Ken could see her bones, and she was covered in her own filth, food, blood, and debris from the floor. Her eyes were glazed over, a sign of illness. Worse, the soft, barely audible crooning sound she was making was a sign of madness. She was probably a human who had not been of a high enough percentage to adjust well to the change. Anything below forty percent was a gamble, but many were forced to change anyway just as pit fodder to start training the better dragons.

  Blaze made a low, rough noise and lifted his gun. Ken stepped back and covered his ears as the gun went off. Turning away, Blaze continued on down the hall. After the first few pens, Ken stopped looking—it hurt too fucking much to keep seeing the broken, battered dragons within them, and they were going to need the ammo for other things.

  He was definitely going to do something about it later, though.

  A familiar roar drew his attention, and Ken bolted past Blaze, following the sounds of an angry Nevada. He turned a corner, ran down another hallway—and nearly collided with a terrified looking man in a white lab coat. A white lab coat stained with blood.

  Ken raised his gun. "Freeze!"

  The man turned toward him, eyes wide and terrified. "Help! It's gone crazy! I don't—"

  What he didn't, Ken never found out, as Nevada came launching out of the room and immediately buried his teeth in the man's throat. He was dead a moment later, and Nevada dropped the body, growl so deep that Ken's chest vibrated with it. Nev swiveled his long neck, eyes bright, burning—

  He froze when he saw Ken, nostrils flaring as he caught Ken's scent. Making a sound that was partly a cry of joy, partly an awful mewl, Nev ran down the hall toward him, shifting only just before he threw himself into Ken's arms, toppling them both to the ground.

  Ken held him tightly and buried his face in Nev's throat tears of relief stinging his eyes. " Are you okay, Nev?"

  Nev growled softly, and slowly untangled them. "Nev okay. Head hurts, but okay. Ken okay?"

  "I'll live," Ken said, even if, between his side and his head, he was in so much pain he just wanted to pass out. Ignoring the aches, pains and dizziness, he stood and tugged Nev to his feet. "Where is everyone else?"

  "Where's Erie?" Blaze said, his voice breaking.

  Nev rumbled soothingly at him, then turned and ran back down the hallway. He growled impatiently when they did not run after him fast enough. Going past the room he'd burst from earlier, he turned right at the end of the hall and stopped. "Heard Erie here."

  "Erie!" Blaze bellowed. "Goddammit, lizard, answer me!" He stopped, anxiously looking around, banging on every single door on the hall—then froze as smoke came billowing out of one of them and somebody screamed.

  Bolting toward the door, Blaze raised his gun and fired. "Erie, get the fucking keys." A moment later, a trembling hand shoved a ring of keys through the bar. Blaze nearly dropped them, fumbling as he fought to figure out which key would work. Finally he yanked it open, then reached into the pen and pulled Erie out.

  "Blaze," Erie said softly, and it was clear just by looking at him that Erie had taken the brunt of the physical abuse—probably because while he was no pushover, he was susceptible to the drugs Leo's men had used, and not as strong as Nevada. Blaze cupped his head with both hands, kissed him hard.

  "You're okay, Erie. No one is going to hurt you again. Can you shift?"

  Growling, Erie kissed him again and bit his lip, lapping at the blood. It seemed to be exactly what he needed, because with another soft growl he shifted to dragon form, scales already glowing scarlet and making the air around him hazy with the heat.

  "Now we just need Conway and Cam," Ken said.

  Blaze shook his head. "Leo would have kept them with him. There's no way he'd ever let Cam out of his sight, and he'll keep Conway to teach Rafael a lesson."

  Ken grimaced. "Let's get going, then. Where was it you said we're going?"

  "The Pentacle Building, that's where Leo lives and works," Blaze replied. "Let's get moving."

  Erie moved forward to take the lead, his scales singing and burning everything he touched. Blaze followed a few steps behind him, leaving Ken and Nevada to cover the rear. "This place is awfully fucking empty."

  Blaze sneered. "Given the state of the dragons, I'm not surprised. I know Leo doesn't see them as anything more than expensive dogs, but shit—this is fucking ridiculous. Most of these dragons can't be saved. I—" He broke off, voice rough. "I hate this shit."

  Ken didn't bother replying; Blaze knew he agreed.

  The trip back to the car was uneventful, and Ken marveled again that security was so lax. But no doubt all the real muscle was with Leo.

  As they reached the front gates, however, Ken saw the real reason everything was so fucking quiet. At a glance, the man seemed ordinary enough: average height, build of an athlete, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He had a small town, good boy sort of look to him. Wholesome was the word, Ken decided. He looked completely wholesome, except, of course, for the sword in his hand and the silver dragon at his side. Beside him, Blake lifted his gun and demanded, "Who the fuck are you?"

  "A friend," the man said with amusement.

  "Nice sword," Blaze said.

  The man laughed, and smoothly returned the sword to the sheath on his back. Next to him, his dragon laughed, a chittering, clicking sound.

  "I repeat," Blaze said. "Who the fuck are you?"

  Ken shook his head in wonder, and reached out to push Blaze's gun down. He'd only seen the sword for a second, but he would know it by reputation anywhere. The curse carved into the blade was unmistakable: He who bears this sword is destined to kill his closest friend. Only one person carried that sword. "Fuck, you're Alec le Savage."

  "Guilty as charged," Alec said with a wry smile. "You must be the Ken I've heard so much about. Your father gave me a call, asked if I would come help you since he had a feeling you weren't going to stay put and wait like he ordered."

  Blaze heaved a sigh and put his gun away, resting a hand on Erie's head. "You're another fucking knight."

  Alec laughed. "Yes, I'm sorry. I used to live here, so I know the city—and the pits—well."

  "Used to live here," Ken repeated. "Where do you live now that you got here so fast?"

  "Georgia," Alec replied, then smiled. "My lover is a sorcerer. I took care of most of the warehouses, since I knew they'd bring the dragons here. Haven't been here in a long time, though. They moved the holding pens. I'm glad you found your dragons. Now, shall we head to St. George HQ?"

  Blaze didn't bother to reply, just led the way out the gates and toward his car—which definitely would not hold all of them.

  "I've got my own ride," Alec said. "Meet you there." He didn't wait for them to reply, just walked down the street to where an indistinct, beat-up looking red sedan was parked.

  Ken got Erie and Nev settled, then slid into the passenger seat, barely getting his seatbelt on before Blaze plunged into traffic. "How the fuck have you never gotten a traffic ticket?"

  "Talent," Blaze replied. They pulled up in front of a tall looking building that was, Ken realized after staring at it for a moment, shaped like a star. Ken was dumbfounded—what was wrong with a plain old square shape? Shaking his head, Ken clambered out. The dragons shifted back to their dragon forms as soon as they climbed out of the car.

  All around them, people stared and scattered; Ken thought he even heard a couple of them scream. Ignoring all of it, he walked with Blaze and their dragons into the Pentacle Building.

  They were met with guards, but the three dragons quickly took care of them. Ken left them to it, ignoring the screams and the growing panic. In a city ruled by a syndicate no normals would be in the area and abnormals would know to get the fuck out of the way. He slammed the button for the
elevator, and waited impatiently, Alec and Blaze on either side of him.

  The elevator chimed and opened just as the dragons rejoined them. They piled inside as two more elevators opened to reveal more dragons and masters. Ken saw a gun, lifted his own and fired a shot. He saw the man drop, his blood smearing across the lobby floor as the elevator doors closed and they began their ride to the top.

  "Rick wasn't kidding; you have no taste for subtlety."

  "Because a man who carries a sword operates on subtlety."

  Alec laughed. Blake seemed content to ignore them both, staring off into space, clearly lost in thought—probably about who to shoot first and how much they should suffer. Ken might be the more impulsive between them, but Blaze was by far the more deadly. Ken had spent one very long, very brutal year in the pits. Blaze had never known anything else.

  The elevator dinged and Blaze raised his arm, firing rapidly before the doors even finished opening. When Ken stepped out a moment later, ears ringing from the gunshots, he saw two dead men and one who would be shortly. Blaze pushed past him and kept going, firing more shots as he walked down the hall.

  More men came out of the double doors at the very end, and Ken started firing shots of his own, tossing one gun away when it ran out of bullets and pulling out his second. He needn't have bothered; by the time he'd done so, Erie and Nev had taken over the duty of clearing the way.

  Dragons came slinking out a moment later, their black scales shimmering with dark reds and blues and greens. Triple blacks, Ken realized.

  "Blade, kill," Alec commanded, his voice soft, but laced with steel. Blade growled and launched himself at the dragons, moving with sinuous grace. Joining the fray with Erie and Nev, he wasted no time in going in for the kills he'd been ordered to make.

  The dragons roared, screamed, and whimpered. Fire, ice and wind filled the hallway, forcing Ken and the others to hug the walls to avoid being in the line of fire. Erie snarled as one of the dragons clamped down on his leg, his tail flashing and fire bursting from him. The black dragon held fast, countering the fire with ice, but in the next moment Nev was on it, biting the back of its neck. Shaking loose, Erie lunged for the dragon's soft throat and tore it out, jaws dripping blood as he growled and moved on to his next victim.