Dragon Moon: Lia Stone: Demon Hunter - Episode One (Dragon-born Guardians Series Book 1)

by Austin Hackney

  “Zombies?” I said, cringing back from the semi-putrid flesh of the men who held me.

  “If you like,” he replied nonchalantly.

  That’s why I didn’t sense them. They’re dead.

  The zombie thug on my left spoke, his voice like mud and gravel. “You wanna kill it, boss?”

  “What?” Dr Moratu looked back at me. His expression had changed from fierce anger to pitying derision. “No. Just let her go. She’s not what I thought. Her coward’s blood would be useless. We have little but a few hours until the zenith of the Dragon Moon. There are more important things to do now than mess about with humans. Let her go.”

  I shook my arms free as they released me, forcing myself toward Moratu, panting, tears stinging my eyes against my will. My whole body shook with terror.

  “You can’t do this,” I said.

  “Oh, please.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m letting you go, girl. So go, before I change my mind.”

  I didn’t move. I was powerless, and I knew it. But was I really going to leave, abandoning my grandmother, and allow this fiend to unleash the demonic powers into the world?

  In a flash, Dr Moratu whipped out his blade again and pressed it against my neck. He spoke quietly.

  “You are becoming a nuisance,” he said. “These are your options. Leave. Or die. Choose.”

  I pulled away from the blade. “I’ll be back,” I said. “I’ll stop you.”

  “Jolly good,” he sneered. “Run along.”

  I looked one last time at the figure of my naked, unconscious grandmother, and at the Dragon Moon flickering behind clouds.

  And hating myself, cursing the day I was born, I ran.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I RAN HARD, OUT THE temple, up the stairs to the backstage area of the theater.

  I didn’t even think to head into the storeroom and change back into my 21st century clothes. I guess I was too frightened I might get caught. Maybe the police were still searching for me. The only thing I could think of was getting back to safety, returning to the place where the portal had opened and hoping to get back through it into my own time.

  As I plunged along the corridor, searching desperately for the way out, I stumbled into the foyer.

  It was carpeted in plush red, chandeliers glittering from the stucco ceiling, and buzzing with conversation and laughter; people in fine dress and sparkling jewelry, flushed with excitement.

  I stopped only a fraction of a second before shoving my way among the people, disregarding the protestations of top-hatted gentlemen and the squeals of sequined ladies.

  Grandma. I was running away from Grandma. But you have no choice, Lia, I told myself. If you’d stayed you’d have died and there’d be no hope at all. At least now if you can just get back you can get help. There’re the other Dragon families, and there’s Joe Summers, if he’s still alive.

  Dodging the attempts of the doorman to snatch me, I tumbled down the steps and onto the street. But Victorian women, even servant girls, didn’t run through the streets without attracting attention.

  It was strange enough that I was parading in public without a consort or a chaperone. Most likely I’d be taken for a street girl, given that my clothing was now thoroughly soiled and my hair a total nightmare.

  “Oi, you there!”

  The voice was rough, an edge of cockney in the tone. I knew the shout had been directed at me, but I lowered my head and quickened my pace. I wasn’t far now from the corner of Old Compton Street and the alleyway. Just leave me alone. Give me a break. One minute more and I’ll be there.

  But whoever it was had no intention of giving me a break. He shouted again and this time I heard his thumping footfall as he broke into a run behind me.

  My adrenaline pumped faster. I quickened my pace again and then risked looking back over my shoulder. Freaking hell. It was one of the men who’d seen me with the prostitute before. I’d locked eyes with him briefly, and now he’d seen my face.

  “Police!” he shouted, agitated, urgency exciting his voice. “That’s a murderess, that is!”

  Murderess? What the…? A whistle blew. I broke into a run. No time for ladylike.

  I wasn’t a sporty type and never showed any interest in the teams either at high school in America or at my new University.

  But running for your life is a hell of a lot more motivating than running after a freaking ball.

  “Police!” the voice shouted again. “It’s ‘er wot done in the whore! Ran off and left her dead in the street, she did!” He was further away than before and breathless. I’d out run him, but it wouldn’t be long before he sent the police after me.

  I didn’t kill her! She fell because she was drunk. She tried to drag me with her.

  But it didn’t really matter one way or the other. If the cops got me, I’d have a lot more explaining to do than just what happened to the unfortunate woman.

  My legs burned and my chest tightened with exertion. At last I skidded around the corner into the alley. As I got back to the spot where I’d met the prostitute, two policemen rushed toward me from both directions.

  What the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t just snap my fingers and poof, I’m back!

  I was almost doubled over, the stabbing under my ribs sharp. The policemen slowed down. They closed in, hyenas gathering at a carcass.

  Hell.

  “So, young woman,” one said, pulling handcuffs from his belt. “The criminal always revisits the scene of the crime. That’s as good as a confession in my book.”

  He clamped one of the steel cuffs around my right wrist and it clicked shut.

  “Hey, wait!” I snatched my other hand away, but I was too weak and exhausted to resist.

  Two others grabbed me, treating me as roughly as the zombie henchmen had done, holding me still and yanking my other arm forward so the policeman could latch the other cuff into place. The cold steel closed around my other wrist with a definitive click.

  “You have the right to remain silent, but I must warn you, anything you do say may be taken down and used in evidence…”

  But he never finished his sentence.

  The cuffs dissolved from around my wrists. A thudding pain at the back of my head left me in shock. I lost my sight, my mind spinning into darkness.

  The last thing I heard was an astonished voice saying, “Bloomin’ hellfire, Jones! Where… where’d she go?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “WELL THAT WORKED, AT LEAST,” said a voice in the darkness.

  My head throbbed with pain and all my limbs were stiff, almost paralyzed. But the pain eased and my limbs relaxed. I was lying on the floor. I sat up and opened my eyes.

  “Welcome back. We need to talk.”

  “What? Who are…?” I said as I dragged myself upright, rubbing my face and then looking toward the man standing nearby. I was in Grandma’s study again. The salt circle had been completed. Candles were lit. The room was fuggy with incense. “Joe!” I said, recognizing the detective. He was looking a little disheveled and his tie was pulled down, his shirt open, and the beginnings of a black eye bruised the side of his face. He raised the eyebrow above it, and then winced in pain.

  “Me.”

  Joe lifted up a hefty leather-bound book in one hand and in the other a hazel wand. “I remembered what you said about a handbook. If you’d told me it was called a grimoire, I might have found it sooner. First time ever. Casting a spell, I mean. And it worked. Aren’t you going to thank me?”

  I knew I should be grateful, but all I felt was anger. I stood, snatching the book and wand from him. “These aren’t yours,” I said. I dumped the stuff on Grandma’s desk and then span round to him. “You’ve got to help me.”

  “I thought I just had.”

  “He’s going to kill Grandma.”

  “Who’s going to kill her?”

  “Dr Moratu. He’s an occultist. He’s got Grandma in Victorian London.”

  “Ah. Soon after you went in through the portal, a c
ouple of heavies jumped out. Looked like zombies dressed in Victorian clothes to me, but I didn’t have much chance to take notes. Luckily, seems they only wanted my VIBE.”

  “They’re his henchmen. I met them, too. But listen, Joe. Tonight’s the Dragon Moon, remember? He’s going to sacrifice Grandma to unleash the demonic powers.” I glanced at the cabinet clock. “He’s starting the ritual now. The sacrifice will be at midnight.”

  He glanced at the clock, too. “Well, we have an hour to save the world. Shall I call Flash Gordon?”

  “How can you joke at a time like this?” I realized I’d raised my hand to him. I swear I could have slapped him.

  “Whoa!” said the detective, stepping back. “I think you’d better slow down and explain what you’re talking about. Right now I don’t know whether I should call the Police Department or an ambulance.”

  I hissed, rubbing my face and said, “Look, it sounds a bit crazy, I know, but you’re in the Paranormal Department now, right? So you’d better get used to crazy. It’s your new normal.”

  “Lia, let’s be clear. This is my first ever serious paranormal case. I’ll be frank with you, I get that I have to keep an eye on werewolves, zombies, the odd vampire that steps out of line. Ghosts and things-that-go-bump-in-the-night. That’s my remit. I’m in this with you, as I said, but I don’t have much power against demons.”

  “Right now lives are at stake. Actually, the whole freaking world is on the brink of permanent destruction, so I don’t exactly have time for lengthy explanations. I just need help to avert cosmic disaster. That fall within your remit?”

  “Okay,” he said. “What’s going on and what do you want me to do?”

  I opened my mouth to answer but found I didn’t know what to say. “Look,” I said at last. “We need to go back through the portal and stop Dr Moratu murdering my grandmother and ushering in the end of the world.”

  “Fine,” said Joe. “And how exactly do you think I can help? I’m not even psychic.”

  “Well, I don’t know! We’re wasting time! It could already be too late. We need to contact the other Dragon families…”

  “And how do we do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I felt like screaming. But screaming would do no good and I knew it. “We have to do something. You have to do something,” I said turning on him. “You’re the freaking detective!”

  “I don’t think so,” he said calmly. “Just remember that I know who you are.”

  I moved closer to him, scrutinizing his impassive face. “What do you mean by that?” I said.

  “I mean, you are Lia Stone. You’re one of the Old Ones - a Dragon-born being in human form. I also know what you’re supposed to be doing here. I’m no Guardian. I’m just a regular human cop who’s been dumped into a back-end department to keep him out of trouble. Now, it seems to me that if either of us is the one who should be doing something to save the world, the lion’s share of that responsibility should fall in your direction not mine.”

  I stepped away from him. “I don’t have time to lose,” I breathed.

  “Then stop wasting it.”

  “What the hell d’you want me to do?”

  “I want you to do whatever it is you people are supposed to do. Fix this. Go slay a demon or something. Isn’t that what that’s for?” he lifted a finger and pointed toward the psychically sealed cabinet.

  I realized he’d figured out what was in there, although I didn’t know how: the demon-slayer, the ancient blade of Albion, the sword wielded by the Pendragon himself. Excalibur. My heart beat faster and the rush of adrenalin surged through every cell in my body, but I shook my head.

  “You don’t understand,” I said. “I can’t do it. I can’t even lift that out the freaking box! I might as well be as human as you are, for all the difference I can make. Until I’m initiated, right? There’s nothing I can do.”

  “So what you mean is you’re giving up. You’re going to let your Grandmother die and the world as we know it come to end because you’re too afraid to even try?”

  “Aren’t you afraid?”

  “Strangely calm, actually. But then again I’m not wholly convinced you’re telling me the truth. I’m keeping my options open on ‘the girl’s insane’ theory. I’m tempted to have you hauled away under Section one way or the other.”

  “You know I’m telling the truth,” I said, shocked at the thought that he might not even believe what I was saying. “You brought me back here with a spell!”

  “To be honest, I really didn’t expect it to work. Sure, I’ve done a bit of homework. It’s all part of the job. But are we really going to stand around here and discuss my career choices when all the demonic forces of hell are about to be unleashed?”

  I wanted to slap him, to spit in his face. But instead I clasped my hands together and said, “Joe Summers. You’re right. I’m afraid. I’m very, very afraid.”

  He was suddenly serious. “Okay,” he said. “I believe you. But you have to do something now, do you get it? I can maybe get you back there with the spell book, but that’s all. Believe me, I’d do more if I could. But I can’t. You have to decide, Lia. You have to decide between saving yourself and the rest of the world.”

  I knew it was true.

  If I didn’t even try, then the demons would overrun everything. Human life would be hurtled on a trajectory toward total destruction. And where would that leave me? I’d go down with the human race. And I figured I wouldn’t deserve better. At least if I tried, I’d die knowing I’d done the right thing; that I hadn’t just stood by denying who I was meant to be and watching the people I was meant to protect perish in hellfire.

  A strange feeling came over me, then. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to describe it. It was as if something had flipped in my brain. I was still afraid, but I could observe the fear at a distance, almost as if it belonged to someone else.

  My mind switched into a sharper focus. I’d made a decision, and I’d wasted enough time already.

  Lia, I thought. You can be afraid. You are afraid. But fear will lead you nowhere. Courage is facing your fear and doing stuff anyway.

  The expression on the Joe’s face changed. He’d seen the change in me.

  Through the darkened window, I saw the moon outside. The clouds cleared and the silver disc shone bright and fierce in the darkness. The Dragon Moon.

  “I’ll do it,” I said. “You just get me back there.”

  I snatched up the book and the wand from where I’d thrown them down on Grandma’s desk and shoved them back toward the detective. He took them.

  “I’ll try,” he said.

  As he ruffled through the pages, I walked over to the cabinet and opened the psychic seal, lifting the lid. The sword Excalibur lay in its bed of velvet. I stood for a moment looking at it, in awe of its ancient power and the responsibility it represented.

  Then, taking a deep breath, I reached down and lifted it out. To my surprise it came up easily, its weight and balance feeling right in my hands. But before I hadn’t been able to lift it at all, I thought, amazed. Where did I find the power?

  “Lia?”

  I turned back to Joe.

  “I’m ready,” I said.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE LAST THING I SAW was the Joe’s face, knotted with concentration as he recited the words of the spell. But this time the transposition wasn’t like before. This time I knew what to expect, and more than that, I was in control.

  I didn’t understand how I’d already come into so much power even before I was initiated. I have Dragon genes in my DNA, I reasoned. True, they can’t be fully expressed until I’m initiated, but I was holding myself back, blocking their expression. Maybe weakness is sometimes just fear getting in the way of strength.

  The room dissolved around me and I passed briefly through darkness and infinite space. Then, suddenly, my feet were firmly planted on solid ground as the world formed around me again.

  Joe Summers, you
missed your vocation. I was right back in the occult temple, the air still heady with incense. The domed skylight was open. Moratu was there, standing at the altar, dressed now in a crimson robe with occult sigils emblazoned on it in gold and purple embroidery.

  Grandma still hung in chains and the Rite of Sacrifice was well under way. My heart slammed into my ribcage. The long, silken sleeves of Moratu’s ceremonial robe slid down his arms as he lifted them above his head, hands clasped around the hilt of a knife.

  “No!” I yelled, leaping forward, the blade Excalibur gripped tight in my right hand. Moratu’s arms lowered, and he turned to face me.

  “I thought I sent you home, girl?” he snarled.

  “Yeah, well, I change my mind,” I said. “The party’s over.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying,” the occultist said darkly, but his eyes flicked to the blade I wielded. I had no idea if I’d actually be able to use it, but I didn’t have to let him know that. The Dragon Moon was bright and full, illuminating the room through the open skylight. My initiation moon, I thought grimly. More like my death moon.

  Moratu also looked up, following my gaze. I took my chance.

  I ran toward him swinging the blade in a wide arc, a trail of blazing energy hanging in the air behind it. But he was fast and strong. As I swung the blade, he skipped nimbly to one side. The momentum of the sword’s weight dragged me after it and I lost my balance, stumbling forward, tripping, and landing spread-eagled on the floor. The blade slipped from my fingers, spinning across the marble tiles.

  Great, I thought. Very superhero.

  But there was little time for sarcasm. I swirled round and flipped back to my feet. But I guess my display of idiotic incompetence convinced him I posed no real threat.

  The occultist turned back toward the limp form of my grandmother. Intoning an incantation in the ancient language of the Old Ones, he lifted the dagger again, ready to plunge the sharpened steel into her frail heart.