Denver Fury: An Urban Fantasy Harem Adventure (American Dragons Book 1)

by Aaron Crash

  The woman made of ink reached out to Steven. “My child, my nameless love, we had to hide you away and trust the gambler’s luck would hold out. We sacrificed all for you, because Rhaegen Mulk would’ve killed you. Your way will be impossible, for you will think you are human, but you are so much more. My husband, your father, promised he could cross even the threshold of death to speak to you, but that this would be my only time to tell you how much I love you, how great you will be, how lucky I feel to have held you in my arms, if only for a brief time.”

  Tears of ink spilled from the eyes of the liquid woman.

  Steven felt his own eyes fill. He reached out, and the ink woman’s hands spilled over his.

  Her voice broke through the crashing winds and the din of the dragon battle under them, however small. “My nameless child, on the eve of your third decade, your training will begin, and if we are all fortunate, Rhaegen Mulk will not have discovered you. For if he knows your true nature, he will come for you, kill you, lest you threaten his supremacy. If we are indeed lucky, he won’t know about you. Less lucky? He will think you are the offspring of some Dragonsoul Ronin and not much of a threat. But if he guesses you are the last of the Drokharises, he will spare no expense in your destruction. Like so much of the lives of Dragonsouls, secrecy is key.”

  She glanced behind her, and Steven knew her time was growing short.

  The five dragons—one of them surely Rhaegen Mulk—had pinned Stefan to the ground and were ripping into his charred, reptilian flesh with their long snouts.

  “Even now, your father is being murdered by Rhaegen Mulk and his vassals. Know that he loved you. Know that I love you. We will both die, casualties in this war, but that does not diminish our love for you. You are now the last scion of the Drokharis family. While your fate will be difficult, your destiny is full of awe and wonder. You will change things for all time, my nameless child. You are the last of us. And you will be mighty.”

  Another frightened glance. “I must flee. I love you. I long for you to see this … They are coming. Rhaegen Mulk has murdered everyone else, and now he is coming for me.”

  The ink tableau spilled away and shifted into another scene, this one of various murders. It was like a movie montage, as scene followed scene. It was all war and butchery.

  Two women, both armed with swords, fought an endless stream of foes, some armed with medieval weapons, others with guns …

  Mixed in with humans were what appeared to be shape-shifters, werewolves, werebears, and weretigers. Even a wereboar or two. Wave after wave of foes died at the end of the flashing swords until a dragon appeared above. The two swordswomen were then engulfed in the flames of a dragon, roasted alive.

  In another scene, a dragon swooped down and a man with a bow fired an arrow, radiating magic, into her chest. The shaft hit home in her heart, and the dragon fell to splash into a lake of ink …

  Another shift, and men with automatic weapons gunned down a dozen women fleeing. Were there children with the women? Steven didn’t want to see that. He had to glance away.

  The scene shifted to show two dragons fighting, back-to-back, unleashing their deadly breath, ripping off the heads of attacking humans, Homo Draconi, and Dragonsouls alike. The pair were holding their own until a man rushed forward with a familiar weapon. The Slayer Blade. The man, flanked by soldiers with assault rifles, cut through the leg of one of the heroic dragons, dodged another blast, and slashed into the belly of the other.

  Behind him, a woman raised her arms and inky missiles shot from her hands. The missiles flashed with a dark magic and levelled both of the dragons. They shifted back into women, dead women.

  Steven’s heart hurt from watching all the murders.

  The scene changed again …

  A couple, Stefan and Persephone, were on a dark street made of the dark fluid, with tall buildings rising around them. In her arms, the woman held a baby wrapped in a blanket. The family was approached by a man Steven knew instantly by his walk alone. No one walked like Joe Whipp, part slouch and part strut. He was wearing his long overcoat, which he loved, since he thought it made him look like a hard-boiled PI from a 1940’s noire novel. Both mother and father kissed the bundle and then placed it reverently into Joe Whipp’s arms.

  Steven’s adopted father’s voice filled the room. “I’ll keep the little guy safe, Stefan. You know me, I’m lucky, and I don’t expect my luck to run out anytime soon.”

  Spoken like a true gambler.

  Stefan Drokharis stood up straight, trying to be brave while he held his weeping wife, who had succumbed to her sorrow.

  The tableau was wiped way and a final, tragic scene began to play. Persephone, alone and afraid, stood in the round living room of the St. Vrain tower that had been smashed apart. Now, Steven knew what had caused the damage. Five heavily armored men wielding swords blasted through the door and charged directly at her. The biggest one, a long-haired man with a scraggly moustache, drove his sword through her chest with brutal contempt.

  Steven realized he was watching his mother die. Rhaegen Mulk had killed her, twenty years before, after slaughtering Stefan Drokharis’ Escort and vassals.

  The minute her heart was pierced, the ink was blasted apart. The black liquid roared around the room once more. The grimoire flipped open, and every bit of ink was sucked inside the pages. In seconds, the unnatural obsidian cloud was gone and so was the shrieking breeze.

  The book slammed shut. Everything went silent.

  Steven covered his face with his hands. He didn’t cry. He was too full of fury, wonder, and loss.

  NINETEEN

  Aria stood near the landing platform at the top of the Hilton Antlers hotel in Colorado Springs, which was possibly the main Aerie of the Drokharis clan now long dead. Rhaegen Mulk had slaughtered them all, with the help of his vassals: human mercenaries, Morphlings, Warlings, Magicians, and other Dragonsouls. He’d taken down Stefan Drokharis and had murdered his wife in the St. Vrain tower. It had been difficult to watch, but she wondered at Steven’s reaction. He stood, hands over his face, clearly upset.

  Again, doubt filled her. Could this Dragonling really hope to ever match the awesome might of Rhaegen Mulk and his brutal, bloodthirsty Primacy?

  Tessa, sobbing, went and held Steven. But the Dragonling stepped away from her. “This is bullshit, total bullshit. That fucker killed them, killed them all, but why? Why?” He stormed around the room, and Aria watched as scales erupted across his skin. He was changing into his Homo Draconis form, then back into human, and she approved of his fury. He needed to vent, to rage, and he needed to use that primal fury to fulfill his destiny. It was the only way.

  Steven approached her, and his eyes were the slits of an angry serpent. “Aria, you saw that, you saw what Rhaegen Mulk did. You should know why!”

  Aria stepped up to him. “I know only a little. But I must confess, I’m as surprised as you are by the sheer savagery. Dragonsoul Primes must kill to protect their Primacy from threats. I would assume Mulk saw your father as a threat, and he had him eliminated. Your parents knew what was coming, and they gambled that having a human raise you for the first two decades of your life would keep you safe. Their gambit paid off. Otherwise, you would’ve been slaughtered along with the rest of the Drokharis clan.”

  “The eve of your third decade …” Tessa said somberly. “Your twentieth birthday, starting your third decade alive. That was when the guy broke in and tried to kill you.”

  “Your father’s luck held out,” Aria whispered. “If Mulk knew about you, he would’ve come himself to kill you, and nothing would’ve stopped him. Your parents must’ve kept your birth a secret. Only your father’s skill as a sorcerer could’ve accomplished that. You come from a powerful bloodline.”

  “A scion, me,” Steven said. He was calming down, getting control over his shape. He went to the book and lifted it. He closed the chest and laid the tome on top. Leafing through the pages, he muttered, “There’s more now. More about me, les
sons for me, stuff on controlling my powers. I have all this Animus, but it’s been leaking away because I don’t know how to harness it. It’s like gaming for hours, getting a buttload of experience points, but not knowing how to invest those points. Dammit, that sucks so hard.”

  “Like not saving when your PC crashes and having to redo stuff,” Tessa agreed.

  “And we don’t have much time,” Steven said. “But, Aria, how are you connected with this? The time for secrets is over.”

  Aria felt a cold sweat break across her skin. An anxious feeling boiled in her stomach. “Who I am doesn’t matter. I’m not connected to what happened to your family, Steven, you have to believe me.”

  Steven approached her, as did Tessa, both of them staring intently at her.

  Aria was naked and felt it—and not just in the flesh. She felt that her secrets were on the verge of being laid bare, and she chafed at the notion. She maneuvered around them, took the Spanish flag, and draped it around herself. “Sunday at midnight,” she said over one shoulder. “That’s when I’m supposed to marry Rhaegen Mulk. My father, in India, he is very traditional. Arranged marriages still happen there, even today, among humans and Dragonsouls alike. I’ve only met Mulk once … He is arrogant, strong, cruel.”

  Aria squeezed her eyes shut, holding back a lifetime of unshed tears. Her wretched engagement made her look so weak. Would Steven even want her anymore as a part of his Escort now that he saw how vulnerable she was? How broken she was?

  “Why at midnight?” Tessa asked.

  Aria answered. “Dragonsouls marry in the dark of night, on a Sunday, when the world is hushed, and humans are sleeping. With their holy day finished, we have our own.”

  Steven’s face seemed like a mask. “I still don’t get this connection between Denver and India,” he said. “I just don’t understand.”

  Aria idly tucked a strand of hair behind an ear and tried to explain. “While most of the portals have been closed between continents, a few have survived, but their existence is a closely guarded secret. One portal links Mumbai and Denver, and so the Primes, Mulk and my father, have been scheming to trade resources and information, using spies to help one another. Both have grand aspirations of conquest on their respective continents. What better way to get what they want than through a secret alliance between cities that seemingly have nothing in common?”

  She let the question hang in the air. When no one said anything, she continued with the hard truth. “But first, there had to be a show of faith. I was an offering to Mulk.” She clutched the flag tighter around her. “Nothing more,” she finished.

  Tessa, being a clever woman, put together the pieces. “You went to Steven to help you, is that right? Somehow, you sensed what he truly was, and you thought he could help you fight Mulk so you wouldn’t have to marry him.”

  Aria nodded. She opened her eyes and stepped away from them. “Yes, but I didn’t know Steven was the last of the Drokharis clan. I didn’t know anything, only that he was a Dragonsoul who didn’t understand what he truly was. A truly strange thing in a world with so few true male Dragonsouls.” She swallowed hard, trying to alleviate some of the fear she was feeling. “Now, it’s only a matter of time before Mulk discovers who you are, Steven. Then, nothing will stop him.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he said. “He sent a Skinling to take me out. This Edgar Vale douchebag. I think my father’s protection spells are keeping my true identity hidden. That gives us some time, but not much.” He exhaled a shaky breath. “For now, let me read more. Up here, I think we’re relatively safe, and if I can learn more about how to channel Animus, next time Edgar comes, we can put him down like a rabid dog.”

  He grinned. “At least I’m on my way to becoming a Dragonsoul. I have the start of a Hoard.” He waved a hand around. “This is all my junk now, right?”

  Aria nodded. “It is. You own this Aerie and everything in it.”

  Tessa picked up a fistful of gold coins. “Yes! Lunch is on Steven!”

  “Yeah, but it’s not like we can go to Subway and get sandwiches in return for gold coins. We’re going to need to find buyers for all this stuff. Problem there, if suddenly pieces from the Drokharis Hoard show up on the open market, Mulk is probably smart enough to notice and put two and two together.”

  A thrill soothed some of Aria’s fear. Steven was as clever as Tessa. “I will continue to finance us. Monday, however, when my father learns I did not marry Mulk, I will be penniless.”

  Steven walked over to her and took her hand in his. “You’re not marrying that murderous dick. I’ll die before I see that happen.”

  “You can’t fight him, and neither can I.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and she hated herself for it. She reached up with an angry fist and obliterated the traitorous tear.

  “We’ll see about that,” Steven said. “But first, I need to become powerful enough to take care of Edgar Vale. Then I’ll set my sights on Rhaegen Mulk. I’ll read, you guys can rustle up some food, and then we’ll drive to the last marker on our map. Okay?”

  Aria stepped into the safety of Steven’s arms. The flag fell away. The heat of his body and the touch of his skin sealed the deal. She would give herself to him and not look back. He was the last scion of the Drokharis clan. He could protect her when no one else could. She knew it, and she reveled in her decision.

  She gave him a long, slow, sweet kiss.

  Their passion made Aria dizzy, and she laughed at herself.

  He broke the kiss. “I’m serious about the food,” he said. “I’m starving. It’s not like there’s room service for the hidden suite of a Dragonsoul.” He grinned. “At least, I don’t think so. But there must be human access to the hotel, somewhere.”

  “Another secret passageway! Cool!” Tessa burst out.

  Aria smiled widely and let herself love not only Steven but the clever barista who had secrets of her own, so deep even she didn’t know what they were.

  ۞۞۞

  While Tessa and Aria searched for a secret passageway down to the hotel proper, Steven settled down on a couch with the book. They’d put the room back together and he glanced around, somewhat in awe that all the treasures in this place were his now. He’d always wanted to own a real sword, and now he had bundles of them. He thought one of the pictures was a Rembrandt—his life was definitely about to change. No more college classes for him; instead, he’d have to learn about the world of high-end art auctions.

  He thought about what he’d be doing on a normal Saturday afternoon. Generally, he’d be studying his ass off before going to his cleaning job. Weekends were for office complexes, lots of toilets, and lots of vacuuming.

  His boss thought he was sick. Steven found himself rich instead, and reading a magic book written by his dead father. His real father. It made him grin. He didn’t have any of Joe Whipp’s blood in him, and that was worth any sort of violence and drama. He was the son of Stefan Drokharis, a Dragonsoul and a powerful Magician. Or maybe a sorcerer, he wasn’t sure—not that it really mattered.

  “Steven Drokharis.” He smiled as he said his real name out loud. He closed his eyes. It felt right. He would change his name legally, once he faced down Rhaegen Mulk and put an end to that asshole’s evil. But to do that, he had to study. His days as a college student were probably over, but if his time in school had taught him anything, it was how to study. He didn’t skip to the new stuff. Instead, he reviewed what he had read before, skimming pages, noting sketches, and rereading the dragon-shaped skill tree.

  He paused. More of the branches had been filled out, and he saw the first three abilities of each. As before, the skills were listed beneath the image:

  Transformatio (Head of the Dragon)

  Partial Transformation

  Homo Draconis

  True Form (Dragonsoul)

  Pugna (Tail of the Dragon)

  DarkArmor

  DragonStrength

  SerpentGrace

  Exhalants (Left Wing of the Drag
on)

  Inferno

  ElectroArc

  Toxicity

  Veneficium (Right Wing of the Dragon)

  Magica Defensio

  Magica Cura

  Magica Impetim

  He so wanted to try True Form and become a full dragon, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet. The combat skills were interesting. He’d managed to enhance his armor somehow, but if he could become stronger and faster, that would be useful. Checking out the wings of the skill tree, he recalled the ink tableaus and what they had shown him. The sorceress had used magic missiles to kill the two Dragonsouls who had been a part of the Drokharis clan. That had to be Magica Impetim—Attack Magic. And the Toxicity exhalant? That had helped kill his real father when the five other dragons had teamed up on him.

  He thought about the shape-shifters that had been Rhaegen Mulk’s army as well as the numerous warriors he’d seen, strong and fast, skilled in a variety of weapons. And the sorcerers hadn’t seemed like Dragonsouls, so how did that work?

  From another room, Tessa gave out a woot of triumph. “What has two thumbs and finds all of the secret passageways? This girl!”

  Both of the women came out of a hallway covered in dust. “We found a way down to the fourteenth floor. What would you like to eat?” Aria was still naked.

  Steven realized he was staring a bit too long and getting turned on. “I’ll eat literally anything.”

  “No time for that, big boy,” Tessa teased. “I have plans on what we can get. And yes, Aria should put on some clothes. I’m getting a bit distracted myself.” She playfully smacked Aria on her bare butt.

  Aria grabbed Tessa’s hand and pulled her into a kiss. Lust and hunger played around in Steven’s belly until hunger won out. “Guys, uh, stop that. I have to concentrate.”

  Tessa cupped one of Aria’s little breasts. “Clearly, we’re not guys. But we’ll behave.”