California Imperium

by Aaron Crash

  Mouse flew down, going for him, the tip of her sword aimed at his left arm.

  “Magica Incanto!” he called out, dispelling her magic. The force field vanished. “Excrucior!” He lashed out with the chain-whip. He caught Mouse on her right thigh, just enough to draw a line of blood. A beat later, he cast another spell. “Magica Cura!”

  She came down, healed, but she struck him head-on. Her momentum sent them careening across the rocky top of the Aussie mountain. Their swords got lost in the tumult. Steven wound up on his back, with Mouse on top of him. They looked into each other’s eyes, Steven as a human, Mouse as a Homo Draconis. Her tail swished through the air lazily.

  Despite her serpentine appearance, he saw the soul inside her. This was Mouse. This was a woman who fought herself to be better even as she fought for him to make the world better.

  He felt love fill him. “Cheater,” he whispered.

  Mouse shifted human. “Fucker.”

  She bent and kissed him while rubbing her sex on his. When they were both ready, he slid inside her. She rode him in the way she liked the best, on top, her little breasts bouncing, a hurricane circle marking her chest, though it was cut. She had another on her arm. She said it was a reminder not to do anything stupid.

  Once they were done, gasping, full of Animus, Mouse got off him. She helped him up and they hugged. He traced the muscles of her back down to her full hips and tiny little butt. He could grip a single cheek in one palm.

  The very idea got him going again.

  Mouse felt it. “Dragonsoul males. I will never, ever understand you. Again? You could go again and again.”

  “I have to,” Steven said. “I have a zillion wives.”

  “Two fucking zillion.” Mouse pressed her head to his chest. “You haven’t forgotten about me. You treat us all with so much love. And this new plan of yours is a real corker.”

  “You got that word from Finkfuss.”

  Mouse leaned back. “Fair dinkum. I think he’s too manly to betray us. He’s the windiest windbag who ever windbagged, but I think he’s okay. And the Three Queens are nice. I guess. They have kids. I’m not what you would call kid friendly.”

  “Mouse,” Steven said. “I want to talk to you about Zoey.”

  “Our overgrown golden retriever?” Mouse laughed. “I love her so much. She’s my polar opposite. She is so open, so friendly, so not sarcastic. I checked her snark levels. They were zero.”

  Steven gave Mouse a last squeeze. Then stepped back. He needed to really talk about this, and he wasn’t sure Tessa was the right person. When it came to these things, Tessa might have too much of an open mind.

  “I get it.” Mouse raised a hand. “I get exactly what you want to talk about. Old Blood and Guts Aria Khat is worried about Zoey’s tactical skills. Yes, Zoey flipped during the last fight. Every single battle I’m in, I feel like she does. I’ve learned to overcome it. She will too.”

  After a quick chuckle over Aria’s nickname, he grew serious. “It’s not just that. She needs me in a way that I can’t sustain. Yes, what I feel for her is intense, and I love her too, but how can we help her be more independent?”

  Mouse turned and walked to the edge. The views from the top of the mound were stark and amazing. The greenery of the rainforest, the other mountains in the distance, the deep blue of the sky above.

  Steven approached. He saw Mouse’s shoulders slump.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Like I said, I’m Zoey’s polar opposite. There’s a part of me, Steven, that doesn’t want to be liked, that doesn’t want to be around you and your Escort and all the witty fucking banter. There’s a part of me that wants to drink myself to death, alone, completely alone, hating myself and the world. It’s strong. Some days, it’s so strong.”

  Steven wasn’t sure what Mouse needed at the moment. He walked up to her, got close, but didn’t touch her. She reached back for his hand. He gripped it.

  “We all love the work you are doing on yourself,” Steven murmured. “We love you and what you add to the witty fucking banter.”

  Mouse let out a long breath. “I say all that to tell you that Zoey is on a journey. We don’t know where it will end. She is trying, Steven. You have no idea how hard it was for her to leave you alone at the lighthouse. But she did it. And she will continue to push herself.” The slim blonde laughed. It was a bitter sound, not happy at all. “You and your fucking revolution, Steven. It has us focused, working, improving every aspect of ourselves. Because we know how hard you push yourself. Yes, you have this stupid, magical Drokharis blood, but hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard. That’s from Tim Notke, and it’s true. The guy just might be a Dragonsoul.”

  She drew him up to her, not turning. Now she wanted to be held. Mouse could be prickly, but then she also had such a softness to her, which was why she hated battle. But just because she didn’t like combat didn’t mean she wasn’t good at it. She was Mouse. And she bit. Hard.

  He inhaled her almond scent. “So Zoey will figure herself out?”

  “She has to,” Mouse said. “We all have to. Because we have to be at our best. That’s how we’ll change the world.” A sob shuddered through her. She turned, clinging to him.

  She wept against his chest. Steven had no idea why. Nevertheless, he wasn’t surprised. Mouse was a volatile woman, and while she tried to be tough, inside, she was anything but. This wasn’t the first time he’d held a weeping woman, and it wouldn’t be the last. Yet every time, it felt like such an honor to hold them while they cried.

  When the storms of her sorrow finally passed, she looked into his eyes, face streaked with tears. “You are going to do it. You are going to change Dragonsouls forever. Talking with the Five Widows, hearing their stories, thinking about mine, I’m so fucking glad. I feel so fucking honored to be doing this with you.”

  He bent and kissed her tears. They were salty on his lips.

  She wasn’t done. “You know what I think of all this King Arthur bullshit? It’s just one more set of secrets, just more lies, even if they wind up being the truth. No dragon who’s ever lived has been like you. They wanted their mysteries and their money and their pussy. You want more, and I’m so glad.”

  Steven thought for a minute. “Maybe the Dragonknights weren’t so bad. Maybe they did want to make the world a better place. Isn’t that what the holy grail is all about? A holy thing that can improve the world? Let’s see what we find in Bali. It might surprise us both.”

  Mouse sighed and smiled. “Always the optimist. Another map and another quest. Give us a round of secrets, barkeep, I’m thirsty for drama.”

  He laughed at that.

  The slim blonde smirked. “Speaking of which, I talked to Denise and Fimi. They, uh, trust me for some reason, and I wasn’t being my normal terrible self, so we had a moment. They like Bud. Both of them. Which is probably the result of some kind of brain damage.”

  Steven struck his head. “Oh, right. That explains their whispers to each other. Well, if they like him, they should get him. Bud is going to lose his mind.”

  “Wait,” Mouse said uncertainly. “You would give up your wives, just like that?”

  He shrugged. “I need warriors, not wives. They like Bud. I know they like me as well, but that’s because of my Dragonlord mojo. As long as Denise and Fimi are willing to recruit Dragonskins, they can do what they want.”

  “They can do who they want.” Mouse laughed and threw herself against him. “This is why I love you. This is why. You would willingly give up those two beauties.”

  “Pru called them chickies.” He thought about his time with the Wayne twins, when they’d fantasized about the two new women being added to his Escort. That probably wasn’t going to happen now, and he wasn’t disappointed. There were still dozens of women in the Primacies that he’d collected who he’d not met yet. Dozens of gorgeous women.

  He held Mouse close. “You’ll just have to keep me satisfied.”

  Be
ing so close to her was having a definite effect on him.

  “That I can do.” Mouse went to her knees in front of him as the Australian sun warmed them both.

  THAT NIGHT THEY FLEW to Bali on the Dashell R. Jet.

  Uchiko kept to herself in one of the front seats with her surgical mask on. Aria, Tessa, Mouse, and Zoey were in the back bedroom, some on the bed, some on the chairs, chatting, laughing, and talking.

  The inside of the Dashell R. Jet was cream colored with black accents. The bathroom was spacious, and there was a kitchen and a configuration of six seats with a sofa. The jet had crystal glasses and china plates, all stored away in ingenious storage spaces. The bedroom was done in grays and had a TV that could be raised and lowered with a remote.

  Steven went to the front and sat down next to Uchiko. He could see into the cockpit, where Skylar sat at the yoke, flying the plane through the night sky.

  He shifted his right hand to be a claw and intertwined his talons with Uchiko’s.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  For a second, she faced him, both eyes different and yet so piercing. Then she closed them. “I have been to Bali before. I have been in the jungles, and I have seen mysteries and secrets that I do not understand. I am far older than I appear. When I smell the night flowers, when I feel wet heat on my skin, the memories will come to cut me. I do not think I can fight the memories by myself.”

  He leaned over and kissed the reptilian side of her face. “Then I will help you fight them, Uchiko.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  PRUDENCE WAYNE COULDN’T be happier to be out of the desert. They’d booked one of the La Serena Villas on South Cahuilla Road in Palm Springs. The tiles inside were painted, and they had their own private pool and an outdoor living room with a gas fireplace. They’d hired a caterer, who’d brought enough food for an army. They wanted to impress their guest, Javier Jones, and his mystery associate. Hopefully, the evening wouldn’t turn into a gunfight. But most likely, it would. Because dragons, duh.

  Sabina fixed herself a small plate of grilled vegetables, Spanish rice, and a single strip of tequila-braised chicken breast. That girl. Now that she had achieved her True Form, she was a full Dragonskin and could eat what she wanted, but she wasn’t.

  At least she was having something.

  Pru and Chazzie were too nervous. They had guns hidden around the outdoor living room. It was going to be a gorgeous sunset, splashing down red rays on the desolate San Bernardino Mountains rising above them. It would get chill, but the place had space heaters overhead.

  Javier rang the doorbell like a human, and Chazzie escorted him in like a human. Javier was a tad shorter than Steven, but wider, thick with muscles. His stubble wasn’t quite a beard, and his beard wasn’t quite stubble. His blue-black hair was streaked perfectly—every other strand altered between the devil’s darkness and angel white.

  He stood in a gray suit with a black shirt, all silk, all luxuriously expensive. Sunglasses hung from the collar of his shirt. He smelled of sweet hickory smoke.

  Sabina sat in a chair, her plate half-finished, and she held her white cane regally.

  Pru stood, and she felt herself captured by Javier’s long dark eyelashes, thick and rich enough to capture souls. They were the eyes of both a lover and a killer.

  He grinned. “Hola, Prudence, Chastity, and Senorita Gonzales.”

  Sabina spoke a long string of Spanish, Javier answered, and then he gestured to Pru. “Sit. Please. We do not have to stand to talk.”

  Pru did sit on a table near the fireplace with a view of the pool, their villa, and the mountains.

  Javier sat. Then he struck. From out of his coat pocket he plucked a mass of clay and slammed it down on Pru’s arm. Two things were stuffed into the clay. A blasting cap and a piece of crystal with a dark brown something inside it.

  The surprise turned to fear inside Pru when she tried to shift away but couldn’t. Hello, mystery magic courtesy of Javier Jones. Her arm was trapped in the plastique explosive, glued to the table.

  Chazzie stood over the desert dragon, her Smith and Wesson .44 Magnum pressed into the back of his head. The click of the hammer pull would’ve made most men fill their trousers. Not Javier. He seemed completely unconcerned.

  “Wrong play, JJ,” Chazzie hissed. “You do not want to fuck with the Texas machine-gun twins. You’re going to stop whatever bullshit you’re playing at, or I’m going to find out what color your brains are.”

  “Hickory, I would imagine,” Javier said softly. “I have a detonator in my pocket. The detonator has a mercury tilt switch. If I fall over, if I shake too much, the C4 will explode. You might not die, Chastity, but your sister most certainly will. The quartz is actually lodolite, and it will stop her from shifting.”

  Sabina whispered, “Magica Divinatio.” Green light spilled across the living area from her eyes. It mingled with the soft radiance of the pool.

  The light show was pretty. Too bad Pru could hardly breathe from the fear. Sweat trickled down from every crack and cranny.

  Javier stayed seated, both hands on the table. Pru noticed how rough the nails were, not pampered at all. They were the hands of a working man, and yet this man didn’t need to work. He owned a great deal of Mexico and most of America’s southern deserts. He spoke in an even, lightly accented voice. “Your bruja doesn’t need to look for the truth. I will tell you.”

  Chazzie ignored that. “Tilt switch, eh?”

  Pru got enough spit in her mouth to say, “I bet you could shoot him and keep him upright.”

  “Be a lot of blood on you, sis.”

  “It’d be a gunfight. Blood and brains come with the business.”

  “You carrying your .9 mm on your right side?”

  “I am. In that little holster you gave me for Valentine’s Day last year.”

  “Shame. Your right hand is a mite compromised, sister. I think I should shoot him, Pru.”

  “I think we should’ve shot him the first time we saw him.” Pru thought about yanking her hand away, and that might work, if she were fast about it. Yet all Javier would have to do was shift into his True Form. That would trigger the tilt switch, and his scales would protect him from the worst of the blast.

  “I’m just going to shoot him now,” Chazzie decided.

  Javier interrupted the interplay. “Careful, Chastity, your revolver is a large caliber weapon. If you had come with something less showy, a .22 perhaps, I would not have a chance. As it is, the shot will do terrible things to my head, and that will in turn affect my body. It would be a gamble. But listen, chica, I did not come here to kill. And I did not come here to die. I came here to talk.”

  That pissed off Pru. “Then why in the fuck are you fucking with us, Javier?”

  He grinned, and it a was pantie-melting, self-assured, badass thing to witness. “I did not want to die tonight. Steven is collecting Primacies, and I have three he might want. And you are the Wayne twins. You are working for Steven Drokharis, the most powerful dragon the West has ever seen. I am determined to weather the Drokharis storm. Others will not.”

  Chazzie lowered the hammer and stepped back. “You know, now that I see it from your point of view, I have to admit, you’re a fucking genius to hold dear Prudence hostage like that. Okay, you wanted to talk, let’s talk.” She came around and sat down with Pru, even took her sister’s hand. Both their palms were sweaty, embarrassingly so.

  Sabina sat behind Javier. You couldn’t look into her eyes, they were blazing so bright. “He thinks he dreamed the lodolite Incanto, but it wasn’t really a dream. It was Spider Finger.”

  Javier tilted his head in surprise. “Like the movie Inception?”

  Chazzie sighed. “We don’t do popular culture. You got the wrong Drokharis wives for that. So, the lodolite was your idea?”

  He nodded. “I gave two bracelets to Roy Right. He has a coalition against Steven. He invited me in, and I accepted. Roy’s plan has worked so far. Liang Pope cast the spell
Roy gave him, and Steven lost his powers because of his proximity to the Americos Chambers.”

  Pru thought about that, though thinking was hard with her hand stuck in a bomb and no way out of it. Unless Sabina could do some shooting. There was a .380 Browning taped under her table. That didn’t seem like the right play, however. Javier had information, and he was itching to share it with them.

  He waved a hand over the plastique. “This was to show you that the lodolite magic works. And for insurance. I joined Roy Right’s coalition to get close to them, but I stayed back because I do not want to help them. I want to join with Steven.”

  Chazzie sat back and tried to look bored. Javier might’ve been fooled, but Pru knew her sister was shitting bricks. “But, JJ, you never call. You never write. This feels all too much like a trap.”

  He nodded.

  Before he could say anything, Sabina spoke again. “But why come with vinegar when he could’ve come with honey? He could’ve eased himself in here, promised the world, and then lured us in. Coming in with the promise of violence and strength is the bolder move.”

  “Brujas.” Javier grinned. “They can see so much.”

  “I don’t see why we don’t just quit and go get our nails done,” Pru complained. “Sabina can see everything anyway.”

  “¡No manches!” Sabina snapped. “I can’t see everything. Just some things. It’s not magic.” She turned sheepish. “Uh, wait, it is magic, but I can control only so much.” She left her chair to prowl across the tiles until she was standing behind Pru.

  She felt the heat of the Latina Magician’s body behind her. She could smell her scent, sage and lavender. Well, this was going to be distracting.

  Javier leaned forward. “I will not be a dog for Steven. I will be his equal in this. We will change things, but I am not one to take orders.”